Minutes turned to hours. Soon the club was shutting down for the night, the security guards making one last sweep of the nightclub.

A guard of robust stature walked up the stairs leading to the rooftop lounge alongside a leaner yet still muscular guard of slightly shorter height.

“Ay Tommy, what did Michelle think of the gift I sent her,” The smaller guard taunted sarcastically and pulled up the virtual receipt for a five-foot-tall teddy bear on his phone. “What do you think about that eh?”

“What do you mean? Am I supposed to be impressed that you can buy a teddy bear or something?” The robust guard mocked.

“Ha, you keep being snide. I already got this delivered to your house earlier last night. Janice should have already got it in the mail and gave it to Michelle.”

Palming his face, Tommy exasperatedly exclaimed “Jesus Christ Carlos, where the fuck am I going to put that thing. It’s fucking huge!”

Laughing obnoxiously Carlos replied, “Then I guess that you’ll just have to let Michelle keep it. Think of it as an early birthday gift.”

”Her Birthday is in two months, Carlos!” Tommy nearly shouted.

“I Know! That makes it even better!” Carlos exclaimed as he broke into raucous laughter.

“You…!” Tommy choked in annoyance. Taking a deep breath he deflated in defeat, “I’ll deal with that later. Let's just get this sweep over with. The sooner I don’t have to see your face the longer both of us will live.”

Both guards had soon made a cursory sweep of the rooftop lounge before they arrived at the far left of the lounge, near the edge of the roof.

“Hey Tommy look at this,” Carlos took out his flashlight and shined it at Archibald who was passed out on the lounge chair. “We got a drunkard passed out over here. Here, wake him up so we can finish the sweep.”

Walking over Tommy retorted, “Why don’t you wake him up, you got here first.”

“Nah, you’re just so much more charismatic, I look too scary.” Carlos had already started to walk away, “I’ll finish up with the sweep while you wake him up.”

“You son of a bitch.” Tommy threw his hands up in defeat, “Fine, go finish the sweep. I’ll handle this.”

Reaching down and grabbing the shoulders of Archibald, Tommy started to shake him awake.

…

Opening his eyes, Archibald felt like he was on a boat in the ocean. His head whipped back and forth. “What the…” He gasped as his eyes adjusted to a blinding white light.

“Oy wake up, club’s closed, you aren’t supposed to be here. If you go down to the reception area you can get a server to call you a cab,” The guard moved his hand away from Archibald's shoulder and the flashlight down from Archibald's face.

Mentally adjusting himself to his surroundings Archibald shakily recalled what had happened. “What the fuck was that pain. I didn’t drink nearly enough to get alcohol poisoning. What on Earth happened? I know that I have drank more than that before.”

“Oy did you hear me? Club is closing, you better get out of here.”

Archibald looked up as he heard the clearly impatient and annoyed voice. “Yeah, yeah I heard you, I'll head down,” he wearily responded

“I’ve got to get home soon. My head is still killing me, no doubt it’s due to dehydration. How long have I even been unconscious for? Fuck this whole night was a mistake. I’m better than this.” Quickly reaching into his right pocket, he checked the time,” 3:17 Am?! I need to go now,” he concluded. Standing up as fast as he could, Archibald said a few words of thanks and walked past the exasperated guard and down into the club that was now lit only by overhead lights.

Arriving at the reception area, Archibald quickly found a male server that was about to head out.

“Hey wait for a second, can you call me a cab.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Face deadpan, the server responded with a tightened tone.

Noticing the server's frustration, but being too exhausted to care Archibald merely nodded in confirmation while the server called a cab.

In around ten minutes the cab had arrived. Hastily, Archibald walked out of the club. The city lights washed over him, there were scarcely any people or traffic. Looking back he noticed the luxurious neon sign over the club entrance had dimmed down. The word Envy was faintly discernible. Turning back around, Archibald approached the cab and opened the back door, and sat down. Soon after he gave his address the cab set off.

Looking out of the left side window of the cab a maze of buildings and lights peered back at Archibald. The bright lights of the buildings illuminated his indifferent expression in a monotone of yellow light.

Tiring of the bright lights, he pulled out his phone to see if he missed any calls or messages. Lo and behold, however, there were none. “What a surprise,” Archibald mentally remarked sarcastically, “The birthday boy goes missing for four hours and his friends don’t care at all, what a sad sight.”

Putting his phone away, there was hardly a fluctuation in his mood. After all, he didn’t expect more from his friends. In reality, they were more of a social group that benefited from each other's connections, there were hardly any positive emotions or bonds between them.

“Hah, I may have hundreds of acquaintances and connections in all the right places but I haven’t had a true friend since high school,” Archibald mentally sighed. “Even then I’ve long since faded out of contact with my high school friends.”

Once again looking up at the buildings passing by, Archibald found himself zoned out, thinking about his earlier drunken exclamations as they continuously resounded in his mind. In some weird way, it felt cathartic to express himself like that. Rarely did he express himself openly, he usually prided himself on being stoic. “I guess everyone has their breaking points. Even me… Maybe I need a break, a chance to do some soul searching...” Archibald mentally sighed as his thoughts trailed off, his earlier outburst still resounding. Vaguely, he felt that he had missed something crucial, but he simply couldn’t clearly grasp or truly understand that vague feeling

Finally, after what seemed like the hundredth or so mental replay of his drunken emotional outburst, Archibald found that the cab had stopped in front of his family’s mansion in Paradise Cove Bluffs. Only the truly wealthy lived here, and by virtue of his parent's wealth, Archibald had since he was 18 when they moved from New York. The only reason he would come back here was that university was out on summer break.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“We are here, that will be forty dollars and fifty cents.” The taxicab driver intoned, his emotionless eyes visible to Archibald through the reflection of the rearview mirror.

“Here’s fifty-five. Keep the extra as a tip.” Archibald passed the cash over and exited the cab. Walking towards the gate of the mansion he heard the cab pull away behind him.

Putting in the code to the gate, Archibald soon found himself walking over the luxuriant tiled walkway and neatly trimmed hedges lined with palm trees to the mansion's front door. Plugging in the door code, he was presented with the familiar sight of large floor-to-ceiling sea side windows, white walls, black koa wood ceiling, and hardwood floors upon the opening of the door.

Automatically the lights turned on, revealing the sparse furniture and decoration, the overall feel of the mansion was cold and spacious. None of the usual attendants were there late at night. “Less like a home and more like a hotel as always” Archibald emotionlessly observed. He was used to sights like these, as such, he tried to make his room far more familiar and warm. If he was truthful with himself, however, his standards for warmth weren’t very high.

Still feeling his headache, Archibald fetched himself a glass of water from the kitchen. Soon after he trudged up the glass stairs,” I’ll probably slip and die on these things someday,” and into a hallway. Soon after he found himself at the door to his room.

Opening the door he walked into his room and was presented with the familiar sight of his bed pressed against the middle of the right wall. The queen-sized mattress, the red satin sheets, and white fluffy pillows never looked so comfortable. Holding off from simply collapsing on his bed, however, he walked to his oaken wardrobe at the feet of his bed where he promptly took out a set of black and red flannel pajamas. Quickly changing, Archibald sloppily threw his black windbreaker, black jeans, white shirt, and underwear into the laundry bin located on the left side of the room next to the door.

Noticing that some clothes didn’t make it in the bin Archibald mentally noted to pick them up tomorrow.

Finally, laying down in his bed Archibald gazed out of the windows on the wall opposite the door. The scene presented was only a screen of black, the sea not visible at night. Shifting his head to the left, he moved his gaze to the top of his oak nightstand upon which a picture of his younger self and his parents lay framed. “I wonder how much like them I really am…” Archibald muttered absentmindedly.

“Ahhh, fuck my heads spinning,” groaning from another abrupt wave of headache pain Archibald resolved to sleep it off once and for all. “This better be gone by the morning or I’ll have to go to the hospital or something.”

His exhaustion overwhelming the pain from the headache. Archibald soon shut his eyes, shifted into a comfortable position, and promptly fell asleep.

…

“Wake” a lone voice whispered.

...

“Wake” a multitude of disjointed voices joined to form a rising chorus.

...

“WAKE!” a thousand voices seemed to crescendo at once.

“What!” Screaming Archibald abruptly shot up, his mind in disarray, his back a puddle of sweat. Panting heavily Archibald quickly looked around him. “Wha-what is this,” Archibald breathlessly looked at the black void surrounding his bed, but that wasn’t all. “Why…why the fuck am I outside my body,” looking down at his still sleeping body Archibald was stunned. Looking at his arms, he looked seemingly normal.

“What the fuck is happening. This can’t be real, it can’t be. How is it possible that I’m outside my body? Wait… of course it can’t be real! Ha! I must be dreaming. Is this lucid dreaming? I’ve never experienced this before. Yeah… that must be it. Can’t people manipulate their dreams while lucid dreaming? Let me try it out, a blue sky seems pretty calming right about now.”

Nervously straining to imagine a blue sky, no visible change occurred. Instead, the voices returned, this time however they spoke no intelligible words. At first, Archibald only heard one voice, so quiet that it would be unnoticeable had it not been completely silent.

Abruptly an irrational and primal fear sprouted and took root within his mind, so insidious that it threatened to consume his sanity. Nearly screaming in fear, Archibald strained to maintain his lucidity. It was a losing battle however, the voices multiplied in strength leaving no respite. Instead, the more that other voices seemed to join in, the more their noise became indescribably horrid and tearing.

Time ticked on torturously and eventually Archibald could no longer hold on. His mind was so lost to fear that nearly all lucid thought had ceased leaving only instinctual fear and dread. His hoarse and broken screams of fear projected into the endless void.

Left with no rational thought Archibald failed to notice that from out of the void surrounding his body, shadows congregated and materialized. Their shapes manifested and were indistinct yet monstrous. Some vaguely humanoid, most not.

In droves, these shadows slammed into his body and melded with him. Each collision pushed him closer to the brink of insanity. His last strain of sane thought threatened to snap and bring his mind down with it.

Darkness clouded Archibald’s vision, each collision with the shadows barely even registering anymore, the voices fading away. Instead, a fresh new hell had dawned, this time it tormented something deeper within him, a part that was oddly lucid and untainted by fear.

Images, each shadow colliding with him projected and burned strange images into his mind, no, his very soul.

“Ahhh!” Archibald screamed gutturally, voice breaking. The pain too much to endure.

Archibald was barely able to catch a glimpse of a strange fractured world through the fragmented images. The world's continents somehow rotated freely in the void of space. He saw an endless mist. Intuitively he knew it was a graveyard of endless beings. Their bodies were unidentifiable while wreathed in the mist. Soon, the images became too much to handle, their information flashing by in his mind too fast to process. Pain from the information tormented his very soul.

With the passing of the images the horrid voices that had initiated this nightmare returned. Their chorus was both intelligible and unintelligible and picked up pace with the images, somehow overcoming the mind bending pain and noise of the images. Barely, he was able to pick out what looked like his younger self, asleep in an unfamiliar bedroom before everything seemed to lose its meaning to a searing scream of pain that rippled across his mind and soul.

Too much. It was just too much. No longer could he endure. With the cacophony of voices rising, Archibald was swallowed. His consciousness thrust into complete void.

…

Shooting up from his bed Archibald awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his heart was racing painfully. His fingers clenched onto his mattress.

Face scrunched in pain and grasping his chest, Archibald raggedly exclaimed “Why the fuck am I sweating so much. My chest is killing me.” Struggling to calm himself, Archibald fretfully wondered just what kind of nightmare could create such an intense reaction. “Fuck, I don’t even remember anything. Why don’t I remember anything? Come on there's got to be something. Think. Think!” Straining his mind, all Archibald could conjure from his memory was one word. Vardure.

“What is that even supposed to mean? Is it some type of plant, drug, object, or something? Some type of machination of a sick mind?!” Archibald mentally yelled out questioningly. Pausing to collect his thoughts and calm himself, “Why is it that when I think of that word I feel a ominous sense of impending doom and fear,” Archibald worriedly reflected.

Looking at the black ceiling of his room Archibald took deep breaths and finally tamed his heart rate.

“This was a wake-up call. This nightmare must be my overstressed mind expressing itself. I need a break, a break far away from anyone I know and all the unneeded stress. I need some time to myself just so I don’t lose my fucking mind. That’s it. I’m going on vacation, for a month, maybe more. The Maldives. Yeah. The Maldives sound nice right about now.”

Slightly calmed down, Archibald removed himself from his bed and set about buying the required plane tickets and booking a nice resort, one right by the beach where he could see the sunrise. He knew some people that worked in high-end travel and he could get the attendants to carry out the rest of the leg work.

Archibald felt that he direly needed this. He wasn’t worried about his parents' reaction or the money required. Hell, they were fine with him doing pretty much anything so long as it didn’t damage his or their reputation.

Going about his day, however, no matter how much Archibald busied himself with his vacation preparation or other tasks the word Vardure stuck in the back of his mind. Its recollection left him with an absurd and ominous sense of foreboding.