Thursday, October 9, 2008

CHAPTER 10

G66



After the man in the gray hat had left them, Jane and Ray stared at each other. One of the peons immediately responded as instructed to him previously. He looked at Jane and said, "He wants your blood, not the boy’s." The other peon joined in eerily, accompanying the first simultaneously as he said, "Not the boy’s." Ray called out to Jane in protest but he was silenced quickly by the name the peons spoke. "The man in the gray hat says silence Ray." Both versions of the same voice were raised and then fell again, "The man in the gray hat doesn’t ask for much, Ray." Ray struggled without so much as a whimper escaping from his borrowed lungs. The peons turned back to Jane, "Ray will have to die though, if you do not self inflict... giving your blood freely... as a sign of submission." Jane was already so delusional... she was glad to hear any explanation, no matter how untruthful it seemed. "All that the man in the gray hat commands is respect.", they took turns layering the sentence carefully with both voices, and then just one peon finished, "... and you haven’t shown him any of it."
She couldn’t talk and she didn’t want to. She was glad Ray was not speaking too, because any sound she heard from him brought her closer to breaking down. She could sense pain emanating from him like a physical shower. He was worse off than the tapestry of bodies which bothered her so much before.
The man in the gray hat returned. There was a madness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Perhaps it was the new voice that managed to remain in his head- taunting him, "I’m coming to get you..." "Come to get me", he thought back, "I’d rather you were visible so you can be destroyed." Uncannily enough, a peon entered the room and approached him. "Sir", it said, "Something else is breaching the main entrance." "What is it?", the man in the gray hat asked. "It appears to be a very large man.", the peon replied, "He’s wearing an old fashioned goalie’s mask and carrying a particularly large blade." The peon added, "We do think it’s human- though it smashed at least half of the doorway to pieces just before I left to report to you."
The peon had been just a tad bit descriptive, which struck a chord in it’s master. "Smart ass!", the man in the gray hat thought. He walked over to the wall and picked up a sword. The peon just stared in mild anxiety as his head was sliced off. It was the first kill by his own hand, and Che’ra’s face appeared in his mind as it happened. Something had changed- he knew it. He had lost something.
It was true. When the peons looked at the man in the gray hat they became afraid now. He had lost a hold on things; a hold on them. Rage stirred up inside of him and he grasped for the will to contain it. He was making noises now that he had no control over. Fleeting sporadic screeches escaped from his gut. The peon’s heads twitched along with each screech and a frantic tension of confusion took over the room. Jane and Ray locked stares with each other. "The devil is 6!", yelled the man in the gray hat. The peons stumbled into action, awkwardly raising machetes where Ray struggled. Jane continued her stare. She was trying to do anything at all. She was searching for whatever it was they were afraid of her for.
The peons came down on Ray. He didn’t scream as the blades cut through him. He continued to look at Jane. She picked up the knife in front of her because it was the only thing she could do and as she did so, both peons were struck down. It was the man in the gray hat. The cries of a wild bird filled the room as he ruined his suit. It was splattered with blood and the armpits were soaked in sweat. When he was finished there was a calmness about him. She had picked up the knife, which meant she would draw her own blood- he knew it... and she did. Jane could tell Ray was still alive, even if not for long, there was life in his mangled body. As far as she could tell it was her last choice.
She put the knife against her arm and cut a gash into it. As she did so, the man in the gray hat whispered, "God is 7." The blood spilled out of her wound onto a bar and then dripped down below. "Thank you, Jane.", the man in the gray hat said. "I’d introduce you to Gerald but I’m afraid I have some more pressing business at the moment." Then he looked over at Ray and said, "I’ll send someone in to patch you up, Son." Ray moaned, "Nooo. No. Nooo."
The man in the gray hat left. Peons immediately entered the room and walked over to Ray. He pulled his right hand out of the handcuff. It slipped loose because it was missing a pinky finger. He looked around for anything he could use to fend them off... he didn’t want to live. Ray felt something laying across the bars and grabbed a hold of it. He had picked up his own left arm, which had been severed off earlier. He began to try and beat the peons with it. They took it from him easily and said, "Ray, the man in the gray hat wants you to be quiet and let us carry you off." "Fuck him! Fuck the man in the gray hat! He’s not my father!", Ray screamed. He almost couldn’t believe that he managed to raise his voice. He disobeyed a direct order that was given in the name of the man in the gray hat! But... he had no will to do anything else but let them carry him off. No will to stop them from rebuilding him into what they wanted. He was dying, Ray thought...and death was simply... remaining in Hell.

The Motorcycle Killer



At first there was a large pounding on the main doors of the institution. It echoed powerfully, filling the first corridor and then traveled down the walkways in all directions. Novocaine and Domingo heard it in mid-prayer. They stopped and listened. Everyone stopped and listened... The peons stopped their banging outside the door. "What do you think that is?", Domingo asked. Novocaine said, "I don’t know man, but I hope it’s friendly with us." Novocaine looked at the door and then to Domingo, "They stopped trying the door. You think we should cut the lights in here?" Domingo nodded his head. "Just in case.", said Novocaine. And then the room was dark.
Peons tried to keep the entrance closed but the incredibly large man- thing busted through easily. The Others who were still alive gawked at him with their mouths open. It wore a goalie mask and trounced through the crowd of attackers with the ease of a man amongst children. His big knife reached anyone within 10 feet of him as he made his way toward where he knew he’d find Jane. Jimmy, Jack, Tyrone, and the other Others tried to draw fire from the peons that the big goalie couldn’t reach. He was shot many times but showed no sign of slowing down, although blood began to stain his clothes from the inside out. The big thing instinctively knew which hallway would bring him to Jane, and he was attacked steadily all the way down. The crowd of peons in front of him quickly transformed into a trail of dead.
Novocaine and Domingo heard his arrival grow closer as the silence turned into a massacre. People and walls broke all around him and returned to silence after his passing. They watched the door as the huge shadow steadily walked by. A high pitched screech resounded from further down the corridor. Novocaine and Domingo looked at each other. "I have got to see this!", Domingo whispered. He crawled over to the door of the hallway and after a perplexed look, Novocaine followed. They creaked open the door and looked outside.
Up the hall to where the corridor opened up stood a man wearing a plain gray hat. He was standing perfectly still holding a sword at his side as a much larger man- type thing approached like a stalker. Domingo let out a quiet, "Whoa...", at the sight of it. It turned it’s head and looked back at them for a split second, not slowing it’s pace. The mask was splattered with blood and it concealed the man- thing’s face completely. Novocaine and Domingo shuddered as the head faced forward again. The man in the gray hat commanded it to stop and barked a question at it. He asked, "What are you for?", but the creature didn’t reply. It simply cut him in half and proceeded on without slowing. The hips and legs were flung against a wall and bounced back from the impact. One hand still held the sword, and the face was alive but it held a look of complete shock. The gray hat was still on his head.
Domingo and Novocaine looked again at each other. "I think that’s our Uncle Tom.", Novocaine said, "You see that gray hat on his head?"
"Yeah, man", replied Domingo, "He’s supposed to be one bad dude."
They walked over to where he was lying and stared at both halves. Novocaine was the first to say it, "He’s still alive."
"Yeah... does that mean we gotta kill him?"
"I can’t kill him. I’m a law unto myself... and this man... This man stands for false survival. He would want us to kill him, but to kill him, I would hand him myself..." After a pause Novocaine noticed that the man in the gray hat had stopped bleeding at the waist. "Maybe we should take his legs though.", he said, "Just in case."



G66




It was only a moment after Ray was taken away that the voodoo chanting, echoing through the chamber, began to rise steadily. As the chanting grew louder and more complex, the light below the bars grew brighter and Jane could feel it growing colder below.
She recognized him as he emerged through a corridor. He was hurt, she noticed first... and he was wearing the mask. He paused for a brief second, and then reached down and snapped the handcuffs from the bars. He picked her up, easily cradling her in one arm, then bounded out of the room.
Novocaine and Domingo were each pulling one leg of the man in the gray hat, dragging his lower half down the hallway. Then the man in the gray hat, who had been staring off into space, turned his head until it focused on what was happening. They were taking part of him away.
When Novocaine heard the screech from behind he shouted, "Lets go, lets go!" They started running down the hallway of scattered corpses dragging the hind section behind them. The man in the gray hat propped his torso up with his arms and in a rage, propelled himself forward.
Domingo and Novocaine heard the screeching get louder. When Domingo turned his head to glance back he yelled, "Oh shit!" The man in the gray hat was leaping from his arms to his torso, but right behind him was the big hockey player carrying someone in his arm. "Drop it!", Domingo yelled, "Get out of the hallway!"
Novocaine and Domingo crashed through the hallway doors just missing the one man stampede. When they looked back in the hallway they saw the man in the gray hat laying face down. Under his hat was just a mush of blood where his skull had been.
The Others had the main entrance secured when Domingo and Novocaine made it back. Parts of peons were scattered around from the attack of the big goalie, and the rest of them were just watching from a distance. "Did something big and insane run through here carrying a girl and a big knife?", Novocaine shouted, "Cause I’m pretty sure that’s our girl, ya’ll." Jack ran out the door toward the woods and soon after everyone followed. The creature left a good sized path which even the gators were avoiding at that point.





G66





A hand the size of a small child took grip on a few bars of the spiral, and in one swift motion spread them apart like butter. It then raised itself up through the hole it created, first arms and then legs, placing itself perfectly on the spiral floor. It was a massive thing, white as paper and stocky like a weightlifter who used way to many steroids- and he stood 20 feet in the air. You could tell it was a he because of it’s genitalia, not it’s face. The head was bald and the features seemed exaggerated, perhaps simply by the muscles that controlled it. There was an intelligence attached to the eyes that surveyed the room. He listened to the chanting that continued to echo throughout. It was familiar to him; all too familiar.
The creature couldn’t tell where the chanters were, but he spoke aloud just the same in a sinisterly obnoxious tone, "You guys suck... A lingering impenetrable lifeless drone... and there’s 33 of ya." The chanting stopped, but that didn’t make him any less upset. He stomped off through the corridor sneering, "I’d kill you if I gave a damn."
The big creature didn’t have any hair on it’s massive white body. He looked like an oversized man and although he was as wide as a bus he wasn’t fat. It was strange to see blue eyes and a dimple in the chin of such a creature.
He instinctively walked through the right door to a computer screen bearing his name. It read simply, "Gerald". He pushed the oversized button even though he already knew what his purpose there was for. He had to go to some warehouse and kill everybody, starting with some girl who should have been waiting for him, handcuffed to the spiral chamber. After he was done with that he’d pretty much rule Earth Reality ‘cause he’d be the most powerful immortal there. ‘It’s the same old bullshit’, thought Gerald. He rolled his eyes, "... And of course, no surprise, the girl’s not here. Anybody named Jane here?", he called out loud in frustration. He knew she wasn’t there- he would’ve felt her.
Yep, the same old bullshit. Somebody was using him to get what they wanted, so he’d use them back to get what he wanted- until he got bored. Then he’d return to his own hole in the universe. It was stupid as hell and he was bored to death, but at least now he’d have a little more territory to roam around in for eternity. Of course, eternity was a joke in itself. The truth was- he didn’t have any control. He never really did... but he couldn’t figure out who’s thumb he was under. It’s not like he ever met anyone stronger or more powerful than he was. He was the cheese... and that was it. The sad fucking truth.
After getting an address he didn’t need, Gerald pushed his way through the wall of bodies. That felt good. The rage and it’s release always felt good. He glided down the hallway and noticed a familiar face. Well, it was more like half a familiar face at that point, but it was slowly reconstructing. Gerald noticed that he was still wearing that stupid gray hat. ‘They all wore that.’, he thought. ‘That guy’s such a program.’
"Gerald...", the upper half of the destroyed man raised himself on one arm, "My legs..." "Go Gerald yourself!", snapped the creature. He seemed honestly irritated as he quickened his pace, "I’m busy picking up after you morons!" Gerald sprinted the rest of the way. Instead of leaving via the entrance way, he bounded through the main wall, screaming as he did so. ‘Feels good’, he thought, ‘But it’s nothing like living matter.’ Gerald turned back to the building and then he looked down at himself. He was naked. Turning back through the hole in the wall, he pulled a drape down from one window and tied it around his waist. For a moment he considered slaughtering everyone in the building, but it occurred to him that he was on his way to do that anyway.
Gerald took off on a bee line to the warehouse. He could sense it’s exact location and the distance to it. There was no need for roads because he could smash his way through a forest faster than a car could drive. Yet, where others may have found some excitement, Gerald sped toward his target with the dull ache of nothingness riding him all the way.

Reunited



There was a motorcycle waiting for Jane and the creature when they reached the road. It was a huge, black one with various dents from prior activity. The creature mounted it and took off with Jane secured under his arm.
As they drove down the road, Jane felt the cool moisture of her friend’s blood all over her body. She noticed golf ball sized holes through the jacket he was wearing, and she looked up to see holes in his mask also. She reached as well as she could to hold him, although she wasn’t sure he would feel it. He did though... and perhaps for the first time ever he felt an emotion. Something pulled at him from the inside, replacing the pain of embedded bullets. Jane didn’t notice the new substance dripping off of her savior’s mask because the tears landed on her hair, which was already caked in blood.
The motorcycle pulled to a stop outside of the main warehouse. After a few steps towards the door, the motorcycle killer collapsed, and fell back on his knees to protect Jane. She crawled over beside his huge chest knowing he was just about to die. He stopped her from taking the mask off, but she broke down crying and he felt weakness numb his body. They were both in tears as she lifted off his mask. Mangled by bullet holes, there was more blood than skin. As she kissed him, blood filled her mouth. "I came back for you...", he managed to gurgle between breaths. Then he pointed towards the door and said, "Now stay alive." At "alive" he died, leaving her to scramble to the door alone. Jane could feel the old medium stirring up. Something bad was going to happen. Something real bad.


Inside the Main Warehouse
I saw her walk through the door and I just about flipped.
The warehouse was mine! I didn’t have to exert any force at all to obtain it because everyone was already leaving. They were scared shitless of an attack on the place. I couldn’t believe it, I mean, some peons had told them that soldiers were coming! What a joke! Well, my men and I already had our stockpile set up, so whoever was coming would have a nasty surprise waiting for them.
So there was a knock at the door. I had one of my men open it as we took aim... and she walked in... all by herself. I couldn’t believe how pale she looked, behind all the blood on her face. Her eyes were wet and red but the expression on her face wasn’t sad... it was focused. "Sir Jane?", I said, feeling distant and ashamed at the same time. When she looked at me I could tell that she knew how I had changed. It wasn’t in her expression- that was a vacant ghost. It was in my head. Everything she knew about me just appeared in my head and I froze, lost, staring at myself from within.
She looked right through me and to us all said, "Something bad is going to happen..." She wasn’t looking at anybody; nobody that was there. It’s like she chose not to know me anymore. She started to stagger toward where a few stragglers were leaving via the sewer exit. "It’s coming soon...", she managed- and then she left.
I let her go. I didn’t know what else to do. All I could think about was that dull sting of a lost self who wouldn’t look me in the eyes because it couldn’t. I could see that everyone around me looked scared, but it wasn’t the usual fear. It was a deep fear, an unknown fear. I could feel the worm in my belly. It was eating me alive and all these men beside me would be eaten too. Distant voices approached me asking for orders. ‘Orders to do what?’, I thought. "Kill", I said. It’s all I ever said in these dark times. I called out, "Bring me a mirror!" The personal mission appeared to me. "Bring me a mirror now!", I screamed.
Somebody announced that the satellite picked up an approaching force. "Taking account of the size and speed picked up by radar, we imagined it was a helicopter!", then they said, "We should go- they’re gonna bomb us!" A second later somebody yelled, "No, it’s not a plane. It’s on the ground." "That’s impossible!", somebody said. "Nothing on the ground could move through a swamp that fast!"
Men started lining up around me, aiming their weapons at the north wall of the warehouse. I felt someone hand me a mirror. It was almost a full sized mirror and I thought, ‘Well, it’s almost perfect.’ It was quiet in the room except for some nervous breathing, but I wasn’t really with them anymore. I brought my mirror over to the corner and sat down, trying to see if the worm made it’s way to my eyes. "It’s here!", someone screamed! Silence...
The creature ripped through the west wall like it was kindling. I looked up for a moment to see it... I recognized it. I saw it pick up my first commander and bite his head off, then it threw his body against a wall like a tomato. I looked back at my mirror. My reflection was telling me what was going to happen next. Sure enough, the huge man/creature destroyed everyone in the warehouse except for me- just like my reflection said. It walked over to me and I looked up. "Gerald", I said matter of factly. Then I got down on my knees before his 20 foot frame and said, "End my suffering."
"You arrogant son of a bitch!", Gerald scoffed, "What do you think you are Translator, a God?" He grabbed me, his hands crushing every bone in my body. I fell like a lump to the floor, feeling the worst pain in my life attack from a thousand angles. I couldn’t speak or even think, but I could see and hear. Gerald said, "Welcome to your suffering... know-it-all." Then he turned and ripped a hole in the floor where the sewer ran.
Jane heard it when it broke into the warehouse. She hadn’t made it far enough. The screams were only the equivalent of a couple blocks away. There was no one running down the sewer corridors anymore... she was lost. The dirty little bulbs lining the walkway went out for a second, then came back on, but only flickering. From farther off Jane heard the floor to the warehouse rip open and the sound of something large moving through the sewer quickly. She began to run but a voice called out, "Ma’am, please come with me!"
It was a guy in a black coat and what looked like a Batman mask. She held her hand out when he motioned for it but instead, he picked her up over his shoulder and started running. The distant roar was getting closer fast. It would only be a moment more... The man in the Batman mask was yelling his thoughts as he ran through the blackness of the sewer, "30 yards... 30 yards more..." As he got closer he started screaming, "Fish!! Fish!!", but the thing behind them had caught up.
When Gerald reached 20 feet behind, he spit at them. Both Jane and the Batman toppled over and rolled to a stop, narrowly missing a fall into the waste below. Gerald walked up to them with an arrogant stride through the sewer water. To Jane he said more than asked, "You’re the demon whore?" He was repulsed by her. "You’re a scrawny little piece of garbage!", he snapped harshly, "You gotta be kidding me!" Jane looked back at the creature and was struck by how completely irritated it seemed. His body language clearly showed that he was let down and quite upset about it. Gerald recovered though. He was just about to finish his disappointing venture, but the fish got him... or rather they stopped him.
Over 300 spores shot out of the muck below, entering the great creature from any orifice available. Gerald, caught off guard, fell into the sewage and began thrashing about. Only his lower half was submerged, but the muskies took advantage any way they could. Many shot spores into his anus and others tried to chew off any reachable flesh!
Gerald felt the strange sensation of them entering his body and it disgusted him. He tried to pulverize them but he had lost control of some parts of his body. His legs were frozen and when he thrashed his arms they’d only extend part way. It didn’t take long for him to change the tide though; it never took Gerald long. He pulled his lower half out of the sewage and extended his body so it was as straight as possible. "Lobe Finned Fish!", he grunted and then vomited a few all over himself. "You’re a bunch of minnows!", he chided, "You wanna know what I think of minnows!?" Gerald focused all of his strength on his innards, using them like bowels to squeeze out the fish. His grunting could be heard throughout miles of sewer, but bits of fish started to fall out of his orifices. After a moment, a mush of sardines passed through his colon as he vomited chunks back into the sewer water. After a few minutes his body was clear of them, but the so called demon whore had moved on. The fish stopped attacking Gerald when re-entry became impossible– he knew them now!
The Lobe Finned Fish were confused. ‘What the hell was that thing?’, one exclaimed. ‘And how did it know our species?’, returned another.
As soon as the fish had begun their attack against Gerald, the man in the Batman mask took off again with Jane over his shoulder. "Just around the corner is another fish- stop!", he stated seriously, "Hold on." When they got to the corner, he called for the fish again and then jumped off the sewer walkway. Instead of falling into sewage, they landed on the backs of many large fish. The fish had formed a make shift raft out of themselves, allowing them to move quickly in a uniform motion.
Jane climbed off of the Batman’s shoulder and sat down on the fish. Their thick texture felt so alive beneath her feet; energy radiated through her like a battery on a re-charger. She thought about the motorcycle killer, she thought about me, she thought about Gerald. Her mind wasn’t worrying about how to deal with us, it was considering us... that’s all. She wondered about us, and let herself feel us as she thought. The motor cycle killer was dead. She knew that I was going to die... and she needed something from me... something... or she was going to die.
The Batman character was making unearthly sounds at the fish, and then listening to their silences pensively. "Do you know a Darkwing?", he asked Jane. "No.", she said. "Well... the fish are bringing us to him.", returned the Batman. "They’ve been tracking this Darkwing’s movements for over a day. They say he’s important and you have to meet him now." The Batman turned to look at her, " They say you’re important... and I... you..." He stared deeply at her and then pulled his head away. "I trust the fish- they’re a law unto themselves. You’ll make it.", he finished. The fish pulled to a stop and Batman motioned for Jane to follow him. He climbed up to remove a sewer cap, and then they were both above ground. It was less than a minute before the shadow of Darkwing loomed overhead.

Darkwing


A full moon. The trees and buildings were outlined embers of reflected light. The visual environment almost calmed him down enough to stop shaking, but he was still a nervous wreck. She had been following ... the whole time. Darkwing didn’t know what she was planning to do, or whether he was putting everyone’s lives in jeopardy by leading her to them, but somehow he felt like he had to continue. For as long as he had been flying he only saw her twice. Both times she was just a glowing green fleck in the distance maneuvering through the air like a flying saucer.
He was tired... he was so tired... but the show had to go on. He knew it. Across the horizon Darkwing noticed a sunrise beginning and it was gonna be a pretty one. His instinct told him to fly 300 yards southwest, and his gut pinpointed her location. In the street by the parking lot were 2 figures- one he knew was Jane. The other surprised him a bit. It looked like somebody dressed up like, Batman? The Batman character started waving to him as he descended towards them.
Miles behind Darkwing, she watched. She saw him descend towards 2 people. A thrill of excitement started working it’s way through her. She would enjoy these people!
Just as Darkwing reached them, the ground opened up violently. A 20 foot mammoth of a man climbed out of the crater and made a beeline for Jane. Darkwing threw himself between them and grappled for the creature’s head. Gerald was livid! He grabbed Darkwing’s head and crushed it like a tomato, then he hurled the body against a building. There was only debris of blood and bone embedded in the wall. Gerald turned to see Jane and the Batman running. He leapt forward only to fall on his face. Cursing, he noticed that his legs were bound by tree roots and stone. He tried to pull a leg out but it didn’t budge. "What the crap?", he said out loud. The roots started winding around more of his legs and up his torso, tightening and merging with earth and stone that piled up from below. Gerald was in awe, "How did this happen?", he asked himself. Then he saw her...
She was by the building where Darkwing was obliterated, hunched down where his remains were puddled. She ripped out the part of the wall that Darkwing was smeared on and let it topple to the ground. Then she turned around and squatted. A stream of flourescent green liquid saturated the area below her. The moist area had what seemed like a halo of light emanating from it. Gerald just stood there bound and watched.
The remains of Darkwing began to shift. Fragments of bone formed to complete bones, and then pulled together as a skeleton. Skin, tissue, and organs pulled themselves into the skeleton and reformed to become operable. The mold of Darkwing’s face started out like jelly and proceeded to bake itself into true flesh. The big black wings extended themselves undamaged. The demon whore watched until the white balls of his eyes rolled over to pupils, and then dilated from the incoming flash of life. Darkwing was alive.
She faced Gerald as he broke through the remaining holds of wood and stone. Before he had a chance to pull his legs out, she hunched over on all fours and charged... smiling. She was faster than Gerald had expected and ran right through him, tearing a huge hole through his mid section!
Gerald was in shock and appalled at himself for letting her run through him. He reached around and felt his inner organs hanging from the outside of his back. Quickly, he focused on a gravity center within, which began to draw his guts back inside.
She stood and faced him with a huge smile on her face. It was a mischievous smile, like a cat showing off a kill to it’s human parent. Pride beamed out of her eyes! Before Gerald even finished healing, he insulted her, "You’re about the ugliest thing I’ve seen in this place. Are you going to smile about that too?" She nodded her head and then reached under his cloth and grabbed his penis. It immediately became erect, and Gerald hauled back and smacked her across the street. No one had ever been so brainless to him before... so crude! In his new rage he easily broke through his binds. Shaking himself off, he complained out loud for just himself to hear. "That was disgusting...", then in her direction he raised his voice, "and you’re disgusting!" Gerald was fuming when he looked over at the hole in the building where she was thrown and yelled, "I hope you’re dead!"
Gerald knew she wouldn’t be dead. He had her figured out already. Simply put, she was one half of the same entity. The supernatural half, or if so preferred, the demon half. All he had to do was kill the little human part, and then dismantle the demon- No sweat! He had done it before many times... and lo and behold, just 6 blocks away, stood that delicate half. The poor little idiot was staring right at him. He took off at a pace which would leave her dead in 3 seconds.
As he bounded off toward Jane, her other half emerged from the hole in the wall and glanced over at her. Their eyes met and immediately the 2 became one... Far beyond the simple law of entanglement, when 2 conscious parts of the same thing become aware of each other an irresistible attraction binds them instantly.
Gerald noticed, a split second before he pummeled her, that the girl instantly became much taller and wider. On impact, she was thrown 3 blocks and landed in the middle of the road next to a sewer cap. Sir Jane felt her body twisted in ways it hadn’t been before. Flourescent metallic fluid swirled all over her as she felt bones bend back into place. Although she reconstructed quickly she could smell death all around her. Her body felt powerful but she was completely unfamiliar with it. It was as if she could only move in forward or reverse... and Gerald was walking up to her with a vicious swagger. She managed to pull off the sewer cap before he arrived.
Gerald looked down at her like a neighborhood bully, "You’re pretty lucky for being a real idiot." He said flatly and then got to the point. "Death’s not so bad. Maybe you’ll be cuter on the other side." Gerald glanced at the sewer cap in her hands, rolled his eyes, and then lifted his foot to smash her. He stumped it down and missed... nothing!
Sir Jane had dropped into the sewer hole. She shot through the filthy water like a torpedo lighting up the corridors with her flourescent glow but Gerald smashed into the sewer also– before a human could finish sneezing. He was on her trail instantly, trying to catch up with the glow in the distance.
Gerald almost felt amused at her escape. He really miscalculated that one... but usually idiot demons just stood there and got pummeled. A pre-god for 30 seconds and she had the know how to stop drop and roll– better than the last infinite number of brainless losers. He decided he’d kill her quick... when he caught up.


The Author


Darkwing walked up to me, a lump of flesh in pain, and said, "You can still be good for something. I know you’re hurting but she needs you."
Even after seeing Sir Jane rejoined he knew she didn’t have a chance, so he searched the warehouse for me. Something about me was necessary... He found me broken and bleeding in the corner, and I really just wanted to die. In fact, that was the first thing I said when I noticed he was there.
"I wanna die."
"You can’t die yet, man."
"Why not?"
"Sir Jane needs you."
"I’m in pain... horrible pain."
"Only for awhile... You’ll have a chance to die, but first you have to step up, man."
"Step up?"
I noticed that he had wings at that point. It didn’t surprise me. I sort of knew it without knowing it, if you know what I mean. It dawned on me though, right at that moment, that my heart and eyes might be of some value.
"Does she need my heart and eyes?", I asked.
I noticed a tear stream out of one of his eyes and it really confused me. "You can care?", I murmured, "for me?" It was a strange idea. I felt vacant... but when he nodded in agreement I felt something well up inside of me. Somewhere lost in this physical pain was my humanity... and well, Darkwing, he damn near found it. Although I didn’t have any emotion left I knew it was somewhere inside of me- and with that knowledge I asked him to pick me up.
Even the gentle cradle of his arms filled me with such intense pain I wished out loud for death.

Godheads




As Sir Jane sped through the murk of piss and shit with Gerald on her tail, she tried to get a grip on herself. A strong part of her wanted to fuck and fight, although she knew she’d be destroyed if she didn’t keep up her pace. She couldn’t tell which parts of her were stronger than others, or whether she was actually possessed by something else. It took all of her concentration just to keep moving.
Gerald had gained. He was just a few yards behind her and tension took her over. The tunnel ahead began to fade. Everything started to go dark as both of her eyes closed... but then she could still see! Sir Jane shot out of the water, grabbing his penis in the process and then she used it’s leverage to swing him into a sewer wall. Before Gerald had a chance to scream, she flew up through a sewer cap up onto the street. From there she listened for him... nothing, but she had to get away! Not taking any chances, she flew off towards a tall building for a better view.
Gerald surfaced. He surfaced before she arrived. Effortlessly, he picked up a sewer cap and threw it hundreds of yards aiming for her neck. A direct hit! Before Sir Jane reached the roof top her head was sliced clean off- then the cap and her head fell to the ground.
Gerald walked over to the head. It was key.. But before he approached the head of Sir Jane, he stopped at it’s body and said, "Consider this a favor. Maybe you’ll be luckier next time... with the looks I mean." He kind of chuckled to himself and that caught him off guard. He had no memory of doing that before. "What are you looking at?", someone cried out. Gerald looked around and saw noone. "I’m looking at you asshole!", he sneered, "I’ll get you too, you flipping baby... you coward!" He walked over and then leaned down to smash her head when a 1000 voices filled his head screaming, "Nooo!"
Then they all screamed something different from another, so his head was packed with noise. ‘What the hell is going on?’, he thought. "Get outta my head!", he screamed, "What the hell kinda place is this? Are you all animals on an Idiot Farm?! Shut up or I’ll kill you slowly!" The voices didn’t shut up and to make matters worse he looked down to find the head was gone. He turned to see a girl in a wheel chair carrying it in her lap towards the body. Gerald lunged, but tripped over something! When he turned around he saw Novocaine and Domingo picking themselves up off the ground.
For a moment he was stunned. ‘How stupid do they make these little people?’, he thought. Gerald was so upset that he couldn’t think. He also found it hard to think because of the stupid little voices roaming around inside his head. He hated it, he hated it all... and it was about time all of this nonsense came to an end.
Annie wheeled up to the body with Sir Jane’s head. Jimmy and Jack were waiting. They quickly grabbed it by the hair and neck then positioned it on the shoulders– the eyes rolled to life. Gerald’s 30 second battle with Domingo and Novocaine proved useful but it had a cost! At first he couldn’t connect, so he roared as he swung his fists. The sheer force of his voice threw them off balance as he swatted them both at the same time. Domingo took most of the impact as he and Novocaine flew across the street. Anybody else would have been dead, but Domingo was lucky only his hip was crushed. Neither he nor Novocaine remained conscious.
Darkwing descended with me in his arms when he saw Sir Jane come to. The first thing she did was scream... then Gerald rounded the corner of the building and went for her. He was focused and expressionless, ready to end the nightmare he was stuck in. Darkwing laid me down and flew over to her.
Gerald looked from Sir Jane to the Others around her then back to her. "You all have a lot of spirit.", he chided, "For something out of a Hitler comic book!" Sir Jane just stood there and let him take a shot at her. She was afraid anything she’d do would harm one of us and she really didn’t know what else to do. As she was hit, Darkwing flew at Gerald’s head. He would have missed if it wasn’t for Tyrone focusing voices into it. Then Gerald fell. If only for an instant- Gerald fell.
Sir Jane’s body flew down the street on impact and dragged my body with it as we collided. She had a hole in her mid section from where Gerald’s fist connected, but immediately after we stopped rolling she leaned over me. I was a head attached to a bag of blood and crushed bone. The pain was unbearable! I didn’t feel human anymore, just pain. By the time we stopped I was 96.7% dead... but I had enough strength to say it. "Take my eyes and heart.", I managed. There was look in her eyes just before she clawed into my chest– it was more than I could grasp.
She didn’t take my eyes. I knew this because I could still see... and thank God I felt no pain. The pain was gone.
Sir Jane looked different. She could have been taller and thicker, but what was most apparent was the color of her face and body. Black. She looked like she was carved out of graphite, until she opened her eyes. They were bright red.
A shutter ran through the last seconds of my consciousness when I noticed that Gerald was standing right over me. He was facing her and for the first time I saw it in his face... Fear.





















To be continued.................
































Thanks for reading Sir Jane an the Replacement System. I hope to make the website thereplacementsystem.com better so that the music and novel can fit together. Right now I’m working on the audio book and waiting for the collapse. I hope it doesn’t come.
The sequel isn’t even close to being finished. Tell me what you think about it if you dare, otherwise just enjoy it. Personally, I never have the guts to correspond with people. I kinda feel like an Other... the semi social kind.

CHAPTER 9

G66



When Jane came to, the room was completely dark. She heard the low hum of voices reciting prayers in an unknown language, although to Jane it seemed familiar. She was sitting down now and noticed that the floor was made of steel bars in a spiral pattern. There was a haze of light reflecting up from an unknown depth and it illuminated the bars slightly. It seemed that the light was gaining luminosity ever so slowly, and it flickered like a camp fire against the bars. Jane saw that the inner point of the spiral began just beneath her and then extended itself until it met the walls of the room... as if she was in the center of a giant grill. Her wrists were cuffed to the steel bars on each side of her. The bars were cold and dead, a complete contrast to the place she had woken up from. She remembered the shamanac figure in the jungle and the way it spoke to her, with it’s voice of trailed echoes. That voice would save her from the surrounding drone of the room’s voodoo prayer, but that voice was gone now... and the light from below was growing brighter.


















Back at Hell


I agreed to see him only because he had come alone and part of me was bound to respect the emergence of guts in anyone. He would have had to walk through our house of hanging corpses accompanied by members of my army... and then he would have to face me.
Novocaine walked into my corner and I could tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t know me. We were strangers. For a split second his smile flashed in my head but I blew it away with an imaginary gun... I used to be so sentimental. "Someone escaped from an institution in Alligator Alley. His name’s Domingo Santiago.", Novocaine talked without hesitation, but he didn’t seem able to look me in the eyes for long. "Domingo said that something strange happened to him while he was escaping. He had a surreal experience with an entity that hopped out of another patient’s television. The name of that other patient was Jane according to the ID tag he saw in the room."
I knew what he was getting at so I just nodded my head. He added, "Some of us are leaving tonight to get her out of there. I wanted to let you know ‘cause I knew you two were tight."
He didn’t know if we were tight. He didn’t know me when I knew her, and I don’t think I talked about her all that much anyway. I wanted to know why they were so interested in her so I asked, "What about Sir Jane is making you all decide to finally risk your necks?" Novocaine dodged my comment with straight talking. He said flatly, "She’s been a prominent figure in some of Jimmy’s more apocalyptic visions. Pat also claims that Sir Jane influenced her to the path she’s leading with The Replacement System."
"Pat’s not someone I’d trust with any rational decision.", I stated, "And Jimmy sees all sorts of shit in his visions. So what makes you so sure she’s important?" Novocaine exclaimed, "I got a gut feeling about it, Man!" His comment forced me to look at his belly and I felt laughter well up inside of me. I fought it and I fought well, but I was strained from the effort... It was painful. When I looked up at him I saw my old friend for a second and he saw a tear running from my eye... then he did something he never should have done. Novocaine looked at me like someone looks at someone who is broken and weak. I saw sympathy in his eyes fully directed at someone he didn’t understand. Someone he wouldn’t understand, and the coward couldn’t look me in the eyes, so how could I trust him to die for me?!
I screamed at him! I let him know I was there- seconds went by before my men arrived to escort him out. My men believed in me. They were pure... that could see that I was strong. There’s not enough time in this day and age to work through feelings, and that’s all Novocaine is- one big feeling. Sooner or later they’re gonna get to him. They’re gonna throw him down on the pavement, stick a gun up his ass and fire. There goes Novocaine... I know all they do over there is listen to music, fuck, and play games. My game’s different. My game protects their game. And they do nothing for me.
There’s only one way I could keep things together without getting us killed. I had thought before that a small, separate military unit could protect all of us but I was clearly wrong. The enemy already had information on us– there were actual billboards of Darkwing! The Others were careless animals without someone to guide them, and I would be forced to extend my hand yet further during these delicate times we were in. When they returned I would assume command over all of us until we stood a chance to survive. It was my only choice.



Darkwing Regains Consciousness



He was lying in bed, sore all over. His eyes focused just enough to notice. The room was changing. Darkwing just stared straight ahead and watched the stucco walls turn to plaster and then brick, stone, porcelain, wood. The furniture in his line of vision appeared, disappeared, then reappeared into something else. The window filled itself in with glass which melted into screen, and then formed into bars only to disappear again. Decorations shifted apart, broke down, and then recreated themselves. Each version of the room he was in took a matter of seconds to form into another... and then he noticed himself.
Darkwing’s arm was forming over and over again in pace with the changing room. Muscular, weak, thin, and fat. Different shades of his own color blending from his present Darkness to a light coffee and cream. He hesitated to lift the sheet a little but it was moving along with his body, changing colors and texture. Darkwing watched his body change and he could feel it shifting in and out of itself like mixing batter. He looked to his side and sure enough, he wasn’t alone in bed. She was changing too... Some of the faces that formed he recognized and could place a name with. Others he couldn’t, but they were all familiar. Darkwing stared at her and the room in a perplexed expression of calm. Her eyes were open, but she paid no attention to him. She looked to be in a smooth ecstacy, with a variety of smiles, each infused with it’s own individual expression.
She decided to look at him and when she did he was taken aback. A stare from the woman he had most loved in all of his existence gripped him like a croc’s jaws. He gasped her name without knowing it, "Leyrana?" Somewhere in his daze he remembered the look in her eyes. It was the only perfection he knew... that look. Pure, unbounded love, gentle and somehow lost from anything in any place. She pulled up close to him and called him by the name she used to call him, "Yihro, oh..."
Darkwing, now Yihro, began to cry softly. She was almost too much to bare. She climbed onto him and cried herself into a frenzy, gently crying his name over and over. They found each other’s bodies and leapt into each other like addicts, both crying and moaning gently at the same time. Darkwing was about to climax but he felt her go limp beneath him. When he lifted his head up to see her, he froze. White friction traveled along his spine spreading throughout his body rendering him weak. Leyrana was not beneath him anymore,... someone else was.
He had known this woman also... an even longer time ago. He had no name to put to this face, but this one was perhaps just as ingrained. His name was Barlow then, and the woman below him had been his victim. He had bought her, raped her, and killed her all in one night. He looked on in terror at her face stained with blood and tears. A desperate gurgling sound ended as her face grew pale and he could feel her grow cold beneath him! He looked down and saw blood soaking the sheets. He looked up and saw his reflection on a mirror- it was him, Barlow!
Darkwing jumped back and screamed although he couldn’t take his eyes off of the dead girl. He sat up on the edge of the bed in a cold sweat, shaking, and sobbing in quiet hysterics. He looked at himself in the mirror across the room and ordered his reflection to change. It wouldn’t. His eyes caught a glimpse of the corpse from the mirror. He felt a chill rush through him. It was smiling. He turned to see the corpse staring at him with a mischievous smile on her lips. She pulled back a corner of the sheet and inside of his head like a thunderous bolt struck, "Lets sleep in, Baby." Darkwing winced, and found the strength to shake his head no- but that’s all... she had him.
Che’ra’ s Find





"Faces are changing a man is still lost in space. Lonely unapproachable now he moves towards his fate. Under the alley of one frozen cold. The lies from her lips over years have kept us all stoned.
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go away...
Swing set is swinging the playground’s empty and cold Grown up unapproachable now Children are tools for the known
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go away...
Image the ultimate drug Well, how do I look and I say in a way You look like you should. You look like you should.
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go
What’s a little life Got a little life let a little life go away...
Che’ra lifted her thumb to her face to catch a single, falling tear. As she eased her hand away she noticed it. There was blood on her thumb. In the back of her mind warning signals went off so she quickly walked over to the mirror on the bathroom door. There was a small splotch of blood below her eye, but it didn’t look like the blood was running from her eye. After wiping it off with a moist towelette there was no blood at all, no damage. Her eyes were bloodshot though... and her skin was worn like dead leather. Dark circles created age around her eyes and stopped where someone’s laugh lines would usually begin.
Che’ra’s gaze dropped lower because she spotted more blood. Just below her knee it had soaked through her pajama pants and some of the blood reached her bare foot. She knew the wound was self inflicted, but she thought it hadn’t been deep enough to need a bandage. Well, she was wrong. After pulling up her pajama pant she had second thoughts about cleaning and dressing the wound. Her blood added color to her life, or so she’d thought in recent weeks.
Che’ra re-poured a glass of wine and sat back down in her recliner. The Replacement System was waiting. She discovered the name of the band from one of her most recent recordings. The breakthrough was a locator she designed to travel around the body under the skin to keep anyone from shutting it off easily. For over an hour she heard her appointed spy nervously spill her guts to the others who were trying to calm her down. The spy was screaming at them to, "Find the locator! It was under my left armpit but now it’s gone! Oh my God, they’ll find you if you don’t just kill me! Please, kill me and burn my body! They’re on to you!"
Che’ra was quite amused at hearing this, and she also noted that they did not kill her spy. They made their intentions clear as they patiently searched for the locator. Their intentions were to question the woman and then take her in as one of their own. Che’ra managed to record and amplify over an hour of music from this band called The Replacement System. It was barely audible when she heard it live, but now she knew a few songs in their complete form... she even had a favorite. It called to her as the wine went to her head. She put on her head phones and lit a cigarette. Then she pressed play.
"She’s out of her body again Staring out at moonlit coves
Wading through the dirt in search of animal bones
Placing the ones she likes deep in her memory Far from the damaged place the doctors use in therapy
They’ll be inside with cocaine and wine Feeding the children on which they will dine...
A friend that she looks on now and then is with a stranger in the barn They’re still trying to find God within a deck of playing cards And when he draws a joker after 20 years of losing face Her old friend’s on his knees again blocking out the stranger’s taste
Replacing it with tree tops and carnivals in the snow anywhere but where the eyes of God might go...
Here in Jane’s dimension of gathered laughs Men of the cloth are roadies for the big rock band
And taxi drivers sit you down and make you think What if someone’s tear drop found it’s way into your dream...
She knows she must go back they’re calling her away Pulled through rotted walls behind eyes afraid
Staring across a room that’s barely lit Waiting for the stranger Ready to get hit
They’ll be inside with cocaine and wine
Feeding the children on which they will dine...


Che’ra started crying, she had remembered the dream that woke her up an hour ago. It was more of a series of dreams than just one. Each a basic memory of her childhood with her grandmother in whatever usual routine they were in. Cooking breakfast, walking down the street chatting, sewing, and reading, getting ready for the day. In the dreams she saw herself with her grandmother chattering away and then her grandmother’s jaw dropped off, revealing electronics and circuitry. In one dream Che’ra simply laughed, and in an endearing way placed it back on her grandmother’s face... but from dream to dream her grandmother’s condition progressed. Larger chunks fell off of her face and the whirls and clicking sounds of a robotic skull grew louder. Eventually the Che’ra of the dream became completely terrified at the expressionless robot in front of her, still holding a pan of eggs. She screamed, waking our Che’ra out of bed.



Back to Work




Che’ra arrived at the main intelligence center located in Albany, NY. It was less than 48 hours previously that she had first listened to the barely audible mini- concert of The Replacement System, and she was burning to find out anything she could about her grandmother.
Che’ra’s access code was accepted in the main frame but any information she requested on herself or her grandmother was denied. She kicked her chair across the room and screamed, "Aaargh!" Immediately a peon entered the room and she snarled, "Go fuck yourself!" The peon took a second to process the information and promptly left. Che’ra went back to the mainframe and started to experiment, but after 20 minutes the whole system froze and a personal message appeared on the screen: "Che’ra Gonzales return to your room immediately. There is a message for you concerning the condition of your grandmother that is urgent."
For a moment she felt the urge to return. It was a frightened shaky feeling that gripped her but it only lasted a few seconds, then was replaced by what some may describe as a gentle madness. Che’ra calmly went up to the computer and removed her still bloody foot from it’s boot. She placed her foot on the mainframe and used her fingers to reopen the wound. Her blood spilled out onto the mainframe controls and Che’ra whispered out loud, "Take it. Take it all. You already have me."
The screen fluttered and a new message appeared, "Yes Sir... What can I do for you?" Che’ra’s eyes bugged out of her head. She put her bloody foot back in the boot and typed, "Che’ra Gonzales’ File." There appeared on the computer her face and information. "Oh my God!", she screamed, "Oh my fucking God!" A peon entered the room and Che’ra smiled at him. It’s lifeless stare failed to pick up the hints of blood smeared on her face and pooled up on the floor. She said, "Mr. Peon, please go out and find another peon and then have a conversation." The peon stuttered and then replied, "Yes Ma’am." He left the room to find another peon.
Che’ra turned back to the computer. She was already filled with dread, but she had to face it... and there it was: "Che’ra Gonzales- Session 1."

















G66




The cold bars reminded Jane of death. Her bare feet and legs rested on the steel in frigid discomfort as the room remained filled with the chanting of more death. They had been at it for over an hour now, who or whatever they were. Jane could make out the entire chamber with the increasing luminosity approaching from below the bars. All she saw were stone walls lined with unknown tools, except for 8 uniform doorways.
Two peons entered from the doorway in front of her accompanied by the nurse. The nurse walked over to where Jane was at the center of the spiral, and then began counting each spiral bar as she walked from the center of the room. She stopped at the 15th spiral. The peons walked to each side of her and when she extended her arms, they reached into their pockets and each one handed her a pair of handcuffs. The nurse then bent down and handcuffed both her arms on the 15th spiral. Then the man in the gray hat walked in. He walked in like the guy who owned the place, not even paying attention to his footing on the bars below.
"Jane", he said methodically with that indecipherable hint of arrogance, "I’m afraid you’re not responding to our original plan of therapy..." He stared down at her. "We’re going to try something different."
Although the man in the gray hat held a calm demeanor, he was raging inside. As long as this "Jane" lived, his replacement system could not be complete. She was tied to everything. The opposing catalyst with the assumed name Patricia was still invisible to his machines, and only something as sinister as a demonic whore had the power to obstruct such an identity. She was tied to his son Ray. How could she get so close to him? Why was she so strong at concealing what she knew? Did she know herself? He remembered the security tape of her room during Domingo’s escape. "Jane" just laid there in bed apparently unaware of the boy’s presence outside her window. She didn’t stir and yet the boy disappeared from her window in a flash, nowhere to be found. The devil must work through her, he thought. She may have no idea...
‘Never the less’, he thought, ‘she must be destroyed prematurely if she can’t be contained. Gerald will have to be called. It takes a demon to kill a demon... I’ll have to rebuild cities and keep it amused, another pain in my ass. This better work-’ Suddenly he froze, concentrating on keeping his posture in tact. Was he actually talking out loud just then or was he thinking? Frustration welled it’s way inside and began to pry him apart. He knew he had to do something. He was in danger of looking ridiculous... which he wasn’t.
The man in the gray hat whirled around facing the wall, but on his first 2 attempts to make a sound he just gasped and wheezed. Terror turned to fury and a violent screech erupted from his throat, "Aaaarrck!" On cue the peons went to the wall and brought back 2 machetes. The nurse broke out of whatever trance she was in at seeing them and began to pull against the cuffs screaming. They stood on each side of her, and before they struck her down both recited, "Man is 5." Jane passed out.
When she woke up again she was in a different position, not at the center of the floor. Both hands were cuffed as they were before but on a different bar of the spiral. She counted from the bar she was cuffed to until the center, 21. Across the room she saw the peons finish pushing the woman’s limbs through the bars. It was so unreal, yet she knew it was real- she felt it. Jane wished she would have dreamt during her short blackout. Whoever it was she saw in her last dream made her feel like there was something else, something permanently grounded in balance. This was certainly not balance.
The man in the gray hat stared at her from across the room, eyes burrowing into her. She could sense something was off with him but that was all. Jane wasn’t used to the heavy stench of blood in the air, but it didn’t bother her either. She remembered it’s taste and smell from her previous feedings, which were mostly animal, but there was a building sense of cruelty that smothered her. It permeated cell by cell, mounting pressure as it dissolved the outer membrane of her mind. She was beginning to stare off- and that’s exactly what he planned for her to do.









Leaving the Warehouse



It was quiet in the playpen for an hour before they left. The Replacement System had stopped playing, and no one really had any idea of what to say. Twenty people were packing up, readying to go. Tyrone, Novocaine, Jack, Jimmy, and Domingo were among them.
Annie grabbed Jack by the hand, looking her dead in the eyes. There was a pissed off look of desperation on her face, "It’s not fair that you’re going, Jack." Tears welled up as she pleaded, "We both know you’re going because of the guilt. You’re going ‘cause you wanna die, Jack." Jack stared back. "You’d go too, if you could Annie", she thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead she got down on her knees and hugged Annie saying, "I’m not gonna die. I don’t wanna die, Annie... but if I don’t go, I might start wanting it."
"Fuck, fuck Jack...", Annie sobbed. She grabbed at Jack’s coat like a child and tugged violently, "Look at me, Jack! I’m a big cripple... Go on and get your ass out of here!" Annie had broken down and the sight of her started a pain in Jack’s gut. She took her eye patch off and said sweetly, "Baby, we ain’t that different- Look at me!" Jack’s dead eye stared out into space while the other looked Annie in the eyes. Only Jack’s good eye had a tear running from it. "Do you still like this face?", she asked. Annie nodded yes. "And I still like you and your wobbly legs.", cried Jack. Then they were both crying until one of them snorted. Then they started laughing and the other one snorted, which started them crying again. When they looked up, everyone was staring at them dead pan. Tyrone and Novocaine had a tear in each of their eyes. They haphazardly glanced at each other and immediately averted their eyes.
Danny interrupted, "You guys better come back safe and bring Sir Jane with you. And if you see that boy Ray I told you about... you bring him too. I’d go with you too but my lupus is acting up... and besides, Pat needs me here." She took a drag of a cigarette, "Be careful of The Man." Pat looked up and mumbled something unintelligible to Tyrone who looked back shyly at her and replied with something equally unintelligible. Pat nodded somberly. Jimmy walked toward the exit and called, "Come on everybody, we better get going. I’m interested in meeting this Sir Jane in person... and alive." He wondered where Darkwing was really at, or if they were all headed to a dead end.
Twenty people left in 3 vans. They followed Domingo to the spot where the body of the hitchhiker had been on the road. The body was gone, but Domingo pointed out the blood on the pavement and the clothes on the fence by the woods. Domingo relayed the projected path he thought he had traveled from the institution. He suggested driving another 5 miles and then cutting into the swampy woods. He thought they could reach their destination in a little over an hour.
The group cut through the fence to Alligator Alley with wire cutters, and began trouncing through the swamp using special stilts that Bob had made for them. It took them about an hour to cut through to the institution, just as Domingo had estimated. The 20 foot high electric fence proved to be easy enough to pass also. Once again, one of Bob’s inventions proved effective. Neutralizing clay was placed on the fence to outline an area the size of a large doorway. Once it was secured and the bars within tested, the fence was cut away within the neutral space. Only 40 yards to the main doorway.





















Quagmire



He was worn out... mentally and physically. He had been beaten, raped, tortured, and drained over and over again. He suffered pain in the form of pleasure and intimacy because the girth of what she gave was too much for him. Darkwing was cracking and he knew it. He also knew that she didn’t empathize with or understand anything that was going on. Reality to her was something to play with, not to care about. Darkwing had repeatedly exclaimed the importance of what he had come to her for and how dire it was for her to reclaim her alternate self. She looked at him the way a curious child would as he pleaded desperately for her cooperation... and she never said a word. She simply changed the game.
Darkwing was sitting on the edge of the bed covered in someone’s blood when he made his break for it. Like a bullet he shot towards the balcony and leapt up in flight- she was quicker. His head rolled on the ground and his body fell flat. She remained in bed for a moment remembering what happened. It only took her a flick of her finger to detach his head from across the room. So easy... and now she was bored.
The creature rose out of bed and walked over to the head on the ground. She picked it up and looked at it. She liked his face. Casually, she went back to the bed and laid down, cradling the head in her arms. The creature stared into it’s eyes because she knew for awhile they could see. It dawned on her... that she knew too much. She knew all about the man who belonged to the head in her hands and it made her wonder about the rest of the people he knew. She wanted to meet them also...
With a flick of her mind, Darkwing’s headless body stood up on the balcony. She kissed the forehead in her hands then flung it across the room where it appropriately landed on his neck. Darkwing’s eyes changed from glazed to alive and for a split second there was the oddest look on his face.
After he flew off the balcony she chuckled to herself... it was the oddest look. Then she followed along, excited at getting to meet his friends.



After the Truth





She had been staring at the paused computer screen for 40 minutes. It was a compulsion now, a lock in disbelief. There, on the screen, a younger version of herself stood. She was surrounded by white walls and stood face to face with the suspended head of her grandmother. It was horrible... but it worked, Che’ra thought. She couldn’t accept reality after that. From that moment on she was only a pawn in their game. She remembered part of the song, her favorite-
"And when he draws a joker after 20 years of losing face
Her old friend’s on his knees again, blocking out the stranger’s taste
Replacing it with tree tops and carnivals in the snow
Anywhere but where the eyes of God might go."
Che’ra laid her head down on the keyboard for a moment... but just for a moment. She picked it up, leaned back in her chair and lit a cigarette. With her cigarette she pointed to the computer and said, "You’re my enemy now, and I’m going to make a worthy adversary."
Che’ra cut it down to basics. "First thing’s first, What changed me? Duration of time without answers? Grandmother? No. The man in the gray hat? No. Curiosity with the Others? Maybe... but what did I experience from them except the music and a mild observation of compassion? The music came first... The music."
The situation with the spies became clear to her. They had shut off their own locators because of the music. The music uncovered the lie instantly... but it didn’t work instantly with her. "It took me months of listening...", she thought out loud, "but it was barely audible until I reprocessed it. Maybe it lost something through the process? Not until the other day when I heard it clear and live did-" Another electrical charge fired across the best synapse of her brain and she knew purely without doubt that playing The Replacement System live across all media channels was the only chance she had of unraveling her opponent.
Che’ra tapped in to see what plans the man in the gray hat had for those warehouses. It was bad... He was sending a mercenary of some sort to assassinate them after the execution of an Other patient. Her name was known to Che’ra, Jane, but the mercenary’s name was Gerald... and she had never heard of him before. How would one man destroy hundreds of people who would most likely have the means to arm themselves? Maybe Gerald was just a code word for a Special Ops. platoon? Worse yet, everything was going to happen that night. The execution was set for 3:33 AM, and immediately following it would be the destruction of the warehouses.
Che’ra had to act immediately, but she had no way of getting there on time. She was stuck in New York and the time was already 2:16 AM- which meant there was no time. "Fuck!", she yelled. A peon that was guarding her door left with a, "Yes, Ma’am." It gave Che’ra an idea. "Of course, the peons!", she thought. Che’ra used the main frame to connect with Miami headquarters. She ordered all the peons to the warehouse immediately. They were to invade the warehouse without weapons because an armed army would most likely be arriving shortly after they did. Her hope was that The Replacement System would wake them up and they’d spill their guts about the platoon that was following. This in turn should frighten everyone out of the warehouses so that when the Gerald platoon arrives The Replacement System will be spared!
Che’ra went back to the mainframe after giving her orders. She knew the peons would take a long time just preparing to leave. It would be a miracle if they arrived at the warehouses within the hour, so she took another possibility into her own hands. The Replacement System- getting it onto mainstream media outlets- just in case that possibility would die tonight.
Once again Che’ra used the mainframe for information on the warehouses. She knew about the satellite connection there, but it had no audio inputs that could connect to a mainframe frequency. The only use they had made of the satellite was to pinpoint the location of the warehouse in the first place.
It occurred to Che’ra at that point that the man in the gray hat wanted the warehouses in tact for a special purpose. She checked it out on the computer. The purpose of the warehouse was simply described as "Diversion". "Diversion for what?", she asked out loud.
It didn’t matter. She had no time. She analyzed the components of the satellite using the mainframe and found her loophole. If she could change the connection from the mainframe and then reprogram it, it was possible to change the surveillance system to audio via the mainframe. The audio signal would transmit from the hardware of the satellite to the audio inputs of the mainframe, allowing her to transmit through the mainframe across all channels. If she was lucky, The Replacement System would be playing at that exact time. If not, well...
Che’ra went to work with less time than was humanly possible, so she quickened her pace to super human. Her spirit found the strength to keep her fingers moving as fast as her mind. Sweat and tears poured down her face. Her concentration was at the point of painful and she didn’t notice, but she was whimpering softly.
Other thoughts were trying to get into her head but she wouldn’t let them. Thoughts like time and reason. Thoughts about her grandmother, and herself, and the man in the gray hat, and the fate of everything- but she sealed the door shut. She existed for about half an hour in a state of pure mental pain. Her eyes were blood shot and a tear of blood ran down one of her cheeks unnoticed. Her head was hot... it burned inside... it ached. At 3:17 AM she finished making the connection. Immediately she prepared for the broadcast. She could hear The Replacement System, they were playing! For one instant Che’ra lost herself in a trance of the music but she found the strength to slam her hand down on the button that started the broadcast.
It was 3:23AM! The Replacement System was connected to anyone in the world who was watching TV, or listening to the radio... but after 10 seconds they stopped playing! Che’ra heard unintelligible shouts from the warehouse instead. Someone announced from the microphone that everyone had to evacuate immediately- then there were just the sounds of a mass evacuation. "10 seconds", she thought, "Just 10 seconds". It struck her that if the peons warned everyone in time she might never know, ‘cause Che’ra was passing out. Her own screen of vision went black.


Those 10 Seconds



On the night Che’ra broadcasted The Replacement System, there happened to be a lot of people awake and tuned in to some type of broadcasting. Almost 31 and a half percent of the controlling country’s population were awake in fact, which was quite uncommonly high. There was a lunar eclipse occurring between 3 and 3:30 in the AM. It had been unannounced, but for that half an hour many people woke up and stirred about uncomfortably because the tides of their own bodies pulled at them from the inside.
Peace Force members, business men and women, teachers, politicians, and the many unemployed were members of this group- a good cross section of everyone. Everyone had a different reaction, and to varying degrees. Some people felt a shiver run down their spine, and others experienced nervous ticks for a few seconds. There were some who had sudden crying jags and stomach ailments, as well as lightheadedness, and temporary shortness of breath. Oddly enough there were outbreaks of spontaneous exercise, including push ups and jumping jacks. A few people took their clothes off and started to walk outside, but they all stopped short realizing how ludicrous of an idea it was. Everyone acted out momentarily, the majority for not more than a few seconds, and there were even those who didn’t act out at all. Many stared off during the broadcast and for a moment after it, then promptly went to bed feeling tired at last.
There were of course the few who couldn’t sleep for the whole night afterwards. There was the slightest occurrence of complete mental derangement for varied lengths of time, and even a few suicides. In general though, by no means was that the common reaction. It was a mostly subtle change... at least for that night.














G66




She sat there, allowing him to stare into her. "He’s a man wearing a plain gray hat", she thought, "I wonder if he knows that?" Her observations arrived slowly in a fog of sorrow and fear. The idea behind the blood was getting to her, through her, creating a gap in her attention because of it’s presence. She was losing an unknown battle, the battle of awareness... and then he brought Ray in.
It appeared as if the man in the gray hat had little to do with it. Ray walked in on his own accord following 2 peons, but when he noticed her, his emotions fell apart. With flowing tears he ran over to her screaming, "I’m sorry! Oh my God, I’m sorry! They have me! They have me!" Before he could reach her, just before, the man in the gray hat commanded, "Ray stop." He didn’t have to raise his voice... Ray stopped. "You’ll have time for girls later.", he condescended, "There are plenty in Hell."
Ray wasn’t quiet as he made his way to the 18th spiral. He screamed at himself, he screamed at the peons, he screamed at the man in the gray hat because he knew the man in the gray hat wasn’t his father. He was a god... an evil god. The man had dissolved in him and what remained owned Ray. Jane knew this also... although she didn’t know why.
The peons handed Ray the cuffs, and Ray took them. He locked each wrist onto the 18th spiral. Ray was livid, yet he was silent and his body was shaking uncontrollably. In a frantic stupor Ray tried to play the game of his mind. Not to win, but for a possible feel for the controls. Twice he slammed his head against a bar but when the man in the gray hat told him not to, he stopped.
"Aarrraaock!" A peon walked over and laid a knife across 2 bars within Jane’s grasp. Then both peons stood on each side of Ray, just out of his grasp. The man in the gray hat casually strutted across the bars. He looked somber now, stoic. He was holding on to the look of a fallen hero and believing it. "Jane... it’s not your fault that all of this is happening. It’s the fault of your existence... and it’s my fault, for allowing you to exist." He believed what he was saying. It was almost beyond hate. "I am left with my last choice."
Another peon appeared from a corridor and addressed the man in the gray hat, "Sir. They’ve broken through ahead of schedule."
"Are there more than was estimated?"
"No. There are 20 of them."
The man in the gray hat sneered rigidly, "Then what is the difficulty, peon?"
"Everyone’s afraid."
"Of what?"
"Something is screaming into everyone’s heads so they can’t breathe or think."
"What’s screaming?!", the man in the gray hat shouted, "Show me!"
Before he left, he gave the peons watching Ray a certain look.




The Battlefield



They would have been sitting ducks standing on the floor of the room past the main entrance. The stairwells above were full of armed peons who had been waiting to pick off half of the group as they walked in.
The man in the gray hat only viewed the area for a moment before he had to retreat himself. Every peon was either doubled over holding their heads or running about aimlessly in perfect terror. The voice of a demonic whore growled into his ears, "I’m coming... I’m coming now..." The man in the gray hat thought he recognized something in it’s twisted sardonic tone. The fear it evoked was quite unsettling to him.
A peon was waiting in the room where the man in the gray hat retreated to. He grabbed the peon and pulled a sharp instrument out of it’s pocket. "I’m going to impale your ears.", he said with assertion, "After I do, you must take this and impale the ears of every other peon. Any further orders will be displayed on monitors or else written." The peon replied, "Yes Sir." The man in the gray hat looked at the tool for a second and then handed it to the peon, "Impale yourself." The peon concurred, screaming, and then left to carry out it’s duties.
The peons were surprisingly receptive to being impaled. Flashes of pain transformed into the standard dull look they were accustomed to and immediately after, they began to take aim and fire. They knocked off half of the Others, but not before Novocaine and Domingo made it to the corridor that led to Jane. The rest of them were sitting ducks if they left their cover.
Novocaine and Domingo were at top speed. Peons began to appear in the corridors, jumping out from side doorways, but to no avail. Novocaine twisted and turned without contact, peons slipping off him and tripping on themselves. Domingo controlled the impact, using what looked like self-abusive maneuvers to thwart them. He’d fling himself against the wall spinning in a way that flung them across Novocaine’s back. The peons probably would have been better off if they weren’t armed... but they were.
They were getting towards the end of the corridor when they saw countless peons waiting for them up ahead, guns pointed. Twenty or so shots were fired. Bullets sped down the corridor. There were doorways on each side of Novocaine and Domingo. A peon jumped out from each doorway just in time to make an accidental shield for the 2. Novocaine leapt through one doorway. Domingo through another. Both of them were grazed by bullets. They stared at each other through the doorway entrances for a moment then Novocaine yelled, "I’m gonna work my way up through the rooms!" Domingo nodded.
It worked through one room, but then each was left at a dead end. Domingo backtracked to the previous room and then hurled himself across the hallway, practically bouncing himself of the heads of a half a dozen peons. Novocaine met him there and sealed the door behind him, as Domingo tried to shut the hallway door. A bullet ripped through Domingo’s arm before Novocaine threw himself against the door, sealing it securely. "You alright, man?", Novocaine asked, though he could barely breathe. "Yeah I’m alright.", Domingo answered. "I think we’re gonna die though." Novocaine laughed and then he got this concentrated look of thought on his face.
"Hey Domingo."
"Yeah?"
"I think we best start praying."
"Ok", said Domingo, then he paused for a second. "You go first, man. I’m not sure how... right now."
"Alright, man.", Novocaine returned.
He looked to the pounding doors with worry and then dropped to his knees. Novocaine stared around the room saying, "Man, I hope you can get my big ass out of this tight spot. I’ll even do most the work... I’ll appreciate it. You know it- I’m appreciative." Domingo shyly and awkwardly began an accompaniment. He started with, "Yeah... yeah.", once in a while but then started to pick it up a bit. "You can’t tell me that you see no evil out there, man.", Novocaine said loudly. "You can’t say...", Domingo followed. "You can’t tell me that you hear no evil out there?!", he yelled inquisitively. Domingo was getting in the mood. He started talking like he felt it, "I hear it... I hear it loud! It’s growing louder!" The attack on the doors was growing louder...

CHAPTER 8

Annie and Jack


What happened made sense in some ways. After a particularly bloody night Jack went to lay down with Annie and one of her earplugs fell out. Her unconscious mind began to listen to the Replacement System as she slept, which eventually woke her up with a frantic fit of tears.
Just so you know, me and Jack had become irritated with the constant playing of the Replacement System so we wore earplugs regularly to dull out the sound. It had been a few weeks or maybe a few months since we’d been doing that.
Now when Jack woke up she was feeling horribly guilty. She had a sense that she was becoming a monster. It was more than an overwhelming feeling she was experiencing... it was also physical. Her body felt unhinged. Jack held onto Annie to keep from shaking. She wished more than anything for Annie to be healthy... "But you’re not healthy, Annie. You can’t talk anymore. You can’t walk anymore." Jack was crying. She whispered and whimpered to Annie’s dead ears, "I’ve killed a lot of people since we’ve been split up, and now I’m not so sure they deserved it." Jack held her tight and then broke down in quiet hysterics, "Annie. Annie... I cut some guy’s dick off the other night. He was still alive for it... it was bad. He was crying like a little girl, and now- I can’t get it out of my head that maybe he was a little girl. It doesn’t make sense but... Somehow I’ve been cutting myself into little pieces all along, ‘cause I feel bad for each one of them now!" Jack broke down crying with random emotional utterances. She whispered apologies over and over and over again, clinging to her damaged lover as the music broke into her. She wouldn’t put the earplugs in and so she couldn’t help but focus on the words...
"Gone impure in the back of my mind
There is no place to rewind
There is no time to make it clear if it was born it will stay here
Until the day we meet again
I let you down inside my head
There is no change I will resist
To replace the bridge between our ships, baby... save me-"
Jack whispered the chorus to herself and gently squeezed Annie’s arm each time she whispered, "Baby, save me. Chain me to change. Baby, save me. Save me again..." Jack fell asleep in her repetition.



The Next Day



I’m not sure how it happened, but from that next morning and for a week after we could hear Annie and Jack screaming back and forth at each other regularly. Somebody tried to get in the room to see Annie for themselves but the door was barricaded. After a day, some of the Others slid snacks through the door crack but for a whole week there was no communication between them and our outside world.
It really pissed me off that Jack shut down for that whole week because she missed a pivotal night. Before invading a large convention center that night, some members of our squad approached me. They told me that they had thought I was turning evil or insane before- because they saw the torturous works of art Jack and I had arranged using corpses. Then they said that word of it spread across the country in a matter of weeks and that now the satellite picked up broadcasts of it around the world. Private broadcasts-not public... but the powers were afraid... their minds had changed about me and Jack- they wanted in!
There was nothing to it really... everyone becomes enraged and sickened in the presence of true horror. I told them to go along with their feelings and that the rest would take care of itself. It did.





3 Weeks Later


I wasn’t alone anymore, although being alone had never bothered me. I was in the company of 10 or 20 people most of the time... and they wanted me to tell them what to do. I was leading what seemed like a small militant army. Fifty of us had killed with new eyes in 3 short weeks... I even saw my own picture on a billboard. I was an enemy of the man in the gray hat now.
I was thinking about a truly expressive image. I wanted to collect all of the heads from a viosex center and put little gray hats on them. Then we’d break into a closed office building and put a head on each desk for the first shift to discover. We were all conspiring in a group when Jack walked up and asked to speak to me alone.




What Was Said




"We went evil", she said. "I didn’t know until I really listened to The Replacement System."
"Why’d you do that?", I asked.
"I lost an earplug for a minute and started to understand."
"Understand what?", I asked.
Jack broke down, "That we wronged people! We tortured and murdered people who we could have saved! They were sick..."
I knew where she was going so I beat her to the punch, "Do you think I’m sick, Jack? Do you want me to take my earplugs out so that I might see the evil of my ways? Don’t you Jack? Don’t you wanna bring me... into the light, Jack?"
"I wanna let you know that you’re losing yourself. I was almost gone, I could feel it."
"How’s Annie?", I asked, "I heard she was awake?"
"She can’t walk but she’s all there.", answered Jack. "She was there when I came to, but she wasn’t all there until I woke up the next morning. She’s-"
"She’s what Jack?", I interrupted, "She’s still alive? How long is she gonna live for if I stop protecting us from them?"
"We weren’t protecting anybody !", she yelled, "We can’t control what’s happening out there! The whole fucking world has turned into a machine and the more we play with it, the more we relate to it! You won’t get it ‘til you pull out those damn plugs!"
" Hey Jack", I said calmly, "Why don’t you get out of the fucking room...", I chuckled about it really. Jack didn’t though... she was a fucking wreck.
"You’re whipped", I added, "When she lets you off your chain come see me."
No response... for the first time- I really wanted to fuck her. It was confusing for me. She was so upset when she left, and I found it kind of amusing. She was doing just what she was programmed to do- I thought it was cute of her.
For the rest of that night and for what seemed like every day afterward, I was horny as Hell. The sexual urges that started with Jack spread to all women in general. I started having random sex with people in the Warhouse, but I tired of that real quick. The viosex centers became a real draw. I fought the attraction for awhile but it was too great. I treated everyone with respect at first, but eventually I let go bit by bit until I thrived on their weaknesses. I came and I killed. Soon, everyone who followed me did too.
I just want to take a second and make it clear that you can’t get something for nothing. If you relax and let life do what it does you’re gonna get slapped in the face. Standing up for what you believe in is the most difficult thing to do in the world. I made a pact to defend my friends, and I stuck by it. Novocaine, Jimmy and the rest of them couldn’t take the pressure. They couldn’t handle the compromise.
The sad difficult truth is so similar to what Jack said. In order to save your friends you have to sacrifice part of yourself. She was right... I had to get to know the enemy in ways that I wasn’t comfortable with... but only a few of us can be trusted with the delicate balance between greater goods and evils. The idea of love is so much more complicated than it’s surface seems. You can’t know love without hate. How can someone do something good for someone until they understand what’s not good for someone? I now know that the pain I am forced to internalize will be what saves us all.



What’s Going On


When Jimmy noticed Darkwing gaining consciousness, he left the rooftop. His old friend had begun a new path and Jimmy knew that he’d be eager to get right on it. Jimmy could almost smell coffee brewing in the warehouse and took that as a sign to return to his routine. He wouldn’t be leaving the monotony after all.

Pops was asleep when Darkwing woke up. He took in his surroundings more like an animal would... then say a man. The huge black wings were the only difference in his physical appearance, but something was quite altered in his demeanor. The way his body moved when he walked seemed almost surreal. It’s as if each minor movement was purposefully guided. His eyes were glowing although he was silent after he came to. They were momentarily ominous until he broke into honest laughter. Darkwing shook his wings off as he walked to the edge of the roof. They didn’t hurt anymore– now that he understood them, and they took him into the air to find her.
Tyrone and Novocaine were hanging out with Pat and Danny regularly during music breaks because they quit going on missions. Jimmy joined them after Darkwing’s departure and together they discussed how they now feared me.
The 50 or so Others that were willing to kill opened up a new, yet smaller warhouse. We called it Hell.
The original warehouses were still full of spiritual and personal conflict but everyone was excited about the prophesy of the fish. Even a fish religion was created and people wandered the sewers trying to catch a glimpse of one.
As for the Lobe Finned Fish, they were traveling through the sewers and working their way through plumbing until they reached bathrooms. They waited until someone used the toilet, shower, or sink and then they expelled their tiny, fetus wrapped selves into any available human orifice. After taking control of the human they traveled from human to human, or returned to the sewer system. They were highly efficient and ahead of schedule.
Che’ra was put in charge of basic operations in Miami, as well as her Albany project. Most of the sleep she got was between plane rides.

Word of the Miami Big Business Torturers spread across the mindset, and the man in the gray hat tried to block any transmission of that information... but he had no intention of halting the slaughters. Those particular non conformers were more efficient than his own Peace Force!
Annie and Jack were nursing deep wounds. Annie couldn’t feel her legs just as Jack cringed with pain every time she felt her own soul. Purposefully blocking out The Replacement System seemed to increase her feelings of guilt tenfold. Both of them were still in shock.

The divine yet wild part of Sir Jane was having the time of her life flying all over the world and learning what she was capable of... She was capable of just about anything. That part of her didn’t remember anyone at all, even the part of herself she left behind.




The Accident Again






Ray was waking up from a dream. He was walking through a forest that grew in the sky. The roots formed clouds that extended everywhere like grass. Ray got down on his knees and pushed his face into the ground until he felt it break through the cloud covering. How he knew how to do that, he did not know. Ray’s exposed head opened it’s eyes to see water and land mass thousands of feet below. He felt the rest of his body sinking through the cloud and he tried desperately to move but his body sunk like a board. Ray freaked out, failing to scream until something pulled him swiftly from the cloud cover. It was Sir Jane... or at least something like her!
It was a woman wearing no clothes, but her body was extremely muscular. Parts of her seemed to be formed of flourescent liquid, swirling in different patterns, and parts of her seemed like particles of light. The dominant color was a flourescent green but it was contrasted against a museum of light. There was an eye in the center of her forehead, but it was closed.
They stood and looked at each other for 2 seconds, and in that time a mischievous grin formed on Sir Jane’s face. She lurched forward, grabbed Ray by the arm, and dragged him through the clouds until she came to this particularly fleshy looking tree. Ray looked down and saw that he was naked. In a flash he was pressed face forward against the tree and he could hear her eerie giggling behind him. To Ray, the tree felt like a soft warm body and in a short time he noticed that his penis was inside of it. He panicked for a second but the pleasure did put him in a somewhat euphoric state.
Slowly, he noticed that the tree was sweating and he could feel it react with the movements of his own body, but something terrible happened. The rage started to stir up inside of him like hot lead being poured into someone’s ear. He struggled against the tree and began to scream in rage and horror, but the tree wouldn’t let go... And there protruding from the trunk of the tree, smiling with those mischievous lips, was Sir Jane. Even as he went into a mindless fit of rage she clung onto him. Those manipulative eyes examining him in such a distant glaze...
Ray woke up screaming. The screams turned into tears after a few seconds, and his body was shaking uncontrollably. He felt dizzy and a wetness in his crotch area which turned out to be his own genetic soup. "I came.", Ray said inside of his head. He hadn’t done that since the white room...



The White Room



After Ray completed the chemical interrogation, he was brought into another white room for phase 2. Electrodes were placed all over his body and someone from a control room could run electricity through them at will. Ray was injected with new chemicals which kept him sexually aroused- always physically, but mentally he was off and on.
The entire room was turned into a movie of Sir Jane. They had extracted images and sounds from Ray’s head and then pieced them together for a very accurate audio/video projection of her. The walls doubled as large screens as did the floor and ceiling. No matter where he stared... She was going to be there.
Ray was tortured like this until he was close to cracking up... right at the brink. The chemicals in his body made him orgasm every couple minutes for the first hour or so, and then it slowed to every 10 minutes. The ejaculations themselves were unnaturally forced and became quite painful after the first couple of hours. To increase the efficiency of the operation, the controller electrocuted Ray at the point of ejaculation- each time.
Back to the Accident and Ray


So Ray had come, and now he was staring at a corpse. "Peace Force...", he whispered to himself, "I remember." Ray looked over at the tree line and saw the gaping space that broke into the forest. He stumbled quite a bit trying to get to his feet which made him think that he must have smacked his head pretty good. Sure enough, it was crusted with blood when he felt it.
After a few steps Ray saw her. She was naked and unconscious ... and nothing like she was in the dream. Sir Jane looked frail. Ray could feel the chemical dream stirring up inside of him. It wasn’t overwhelming but he could tell the violent impulses were directed at her. He took off his big black leather coat and wrapped her in it. She seemed so much smaller than he had remembered. "So this is the demon whore...", rattled off somewhere in the back of his head.
Ray threw her over his shoulder and guessed she probably only weighed about 100 pounds. She had withered away since the last time they had met, but Ray... Ray had almost doubled his size since then. He carried her over to his motor board and pulled the remote control from the coat wrapped around Sir Jane. It started right up, and Ray took off with Sir Jane into the horizon.
















The Institution



"Jane...", whispered a calm and familiar voice, "It’s time to wake up, Jane."
It took her forever to open her eyes... when she finally did her body stiffened and her bowels released. It was him! The man in the gray hat. "You’ve wet yourself, Jane.", he said gently but cooly, "Try to relax yourself." She felt terrified. "Do you remember how you got back here?, he asked. She said nothing. "My son Ray had to find you and bring you back. You gave us quite a fright... Really Jane, running away like that.", the man in the gray hat answered for her. He was wearing a suit and tie with a white lab coat over them. Impeccably white, sterile. She could see his face now, so lifeless... so dry.
"I can see you’re still unstable, Jane.", said his monotone voice, "I’m afraid we’ll have to leave your restraints on until you’re feeling better." He pushed a button on the intercom and asked for a nurse to come down. Both of them were silent until the nurse arrived. "She’s wet herself.", he said to the nurse and then to Jane he said, "It’s good to have you back, Jane." She could tell he really tried to mean it when he said it, and then he left the room.
"Are you doing OK, Jane?", the nurse asked as she changed the gown and sheets. Jane tried to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out. She wondered why. "Cat got your tongue?", the nurse asked. No answer.
Jane knew she was drugged. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, even her thoughts. She was very weary of the man in the gray hat but she knew practically nothing about him. Who was the man in the gray hat?
The whole day went by in slow motion with only occasional visits by the nursing staff. Three of them... and each one acted as if they knew her. The last nurse asked her what she was doing back but Jane couldn’t even express her confusion. The nurse before that one just said, "Hi", in a friendly tone that suggested familiarity. All Jane could do was lay in her hospital bed and watch the television that was always on. They were all reality shows and newscasts, except they didn’t seem real to her at all.
One was called Greatest American Family and they followed the lives of each family member throughout the day. It seemed unnatural to Jane that throughout the day there wasn’t an interaction between any two family members. A group of men and women showed up at the family’s rather small apartment dressed in uniforms that read "Peace Force." One "Peace Force" person knocked and entered the room of each family member, with a case strapped to their chest. Each family member used a credit card to purchase food and drink, or pills from the vender. Then the family members were led separately from the house to their routines. The kids went to different schools, and the parents to different buildings. From there it showed clips of each kid learning attentively at school and the parents eagerly working.
The husband was an upper class worker so they included a clip of him walking into "The Unwilling" room. The clip showed him wink at the camera as he entered, but the rest wasn’t shown on television. There was a caption that read and said, "You’ll know when you get there!" His wife was shown trying to promote herself in the room of "The Willing". After going down on one of her employers she recommended, "Soft drugs for personal and professional enhancement!" The kids were brought home by the "Peace Force" venders and they remained in their separate rooms until the end of the show. When the husband and wife arrived, they too attached themselves to computers and cell phones in separate rooms.
Jane thought the show seemed darkly surreal, but then, her life seemed a bit unreal itself. She clearly remembered meeting the killer in the shack and everything that happened afterwards. Before that it was more bits and fragments that she couldn’t recall enough to paste together. Did she really dream up that hulking figure in a hockey mask... who turned out to be someone she cared for? She missed him– and the man in the gray hat... she feared him.
The television shows she saw that first conscious day were single dreams compared to her fragmented world. She had clues as to who she was but never a complete idea. The people in the television were just the opposite. They had an idea of what they were, but they didn’t seem to be aware of even fragments of their individual selves. The shows all appeared connected in theme, as if they joined together to force a particular idea. It was glaringly apparent to her. One show was "Greatest American Family" so another was "Best Japanese Mother" and "The Ultimate CEO’s".







The First Dream


That night Jane had a dream after she dozed off. The television had still been on when she slept- they always left it on.
The dream was very realistic. She was in her hospital room when the man in the gray hat entered and turned on the light. She tried to move, but she still had the straps holding her down. He walked over and pulled her blankets off. To Jane’s surprise, her body was incredibly muscular and dark in color. She lifted an arm and it easily broke the strap. The man in the gray hat looked annoyed at this. In a scolding voice he snapped, "No! You’re just Jane!" She could tell that she wet herself again, and when she looked down at her body it was frail and white. Then she woke up. She had wet herself... but in the bedpan.




A Place Called Hell




This was my place. I created it. I accepted the responsibility that only a few can be trusted with- the delicate balance of real power. There was no need to question my motives for taking control. The control was placed on my shoulders from those around me. I was appointed unanimously with no need for documentation.
It was a hell of a thing to carry the stares of those who depended on you. I had finally learned the greatest joys and dilemmas of leadership- those stares. They looked differently at me than they used to. I had been a leader then and they looked to me for direction. Now I was a symbol and they looked at me in an attempt to see themselves. I learned this... and the day I became aware of it was the day I became a symbol.
Hell, as we called it, was decorated with living trophies. The cruelest men wearing the finest suits were chained to various areas throughout our small warehouse. We glued earplugs into their ears so they had no chance of hearing The Replacement System, although that music had never been set up to broadcast in Hell. Our walls were decorated with these men. Men. Men...
Men. I noticed that the higher up the ladder we hunted, there were less encounters with women. There were no women chained to the walls of the place we called Hell. I was convinced it wasn’t for a lack of cruelty that we hadn’t apprehended a true female predator. The truth was becoming observably clear- Women weren’t trusted with the responsibility of holding dominant positions. True dominant positions of the unfolding world required a steady use of cruelty and if women held those positions, they too would indulge in the cruelty process... equally. The mindset did not include women of rank... and so we mainly hunted men.
While I was taking all of this in I became confused. Part of me was arguing with Jack in my head about the effectiveness of cruelty. I was glad she backed out when she did because she could have taken some committed members of the Warhouse out with her if she had waited any longer. She was convincing. So convincing that I could see her point of view with a great deal of clarity sometimes. I didn’t want to use violence the way I had been. I used to avoid fights before this mindset started to ravage all I knew; then I was forced to fight the fights that others weren’t capable of.
I understood the mindset enough to realize there was something wrong about me also. I was male. A male in a world of men... and it stung! Someone could always tell me that I’m doing whatever I’m doing partly because I am a man. They could say I’m tied into the evil around me and they’d be right.
After a while the burden of this knowledge started to burn a hole in me and I spent more and more drunk nights trying to put the fire out. My anger was increasing though. I still made personal use of the viosex centers and afterwards I would carve apologies into my body as punishment. I was learning about pain... in order to eventually end the reality of pain for us all... eventually.
The businessmen chained in Hell eventually starved to death and we replaced their bodies with fresh ones.






The Institution



Jane woke up harnessed into her hospital bed as a nurse was replacing her bed pan. The nurse then pulled out a coil of tubing and said, "You’ll need a catheter for awhile, Jane. You’re still making a mess from tossing around at night." As the nurse inserted the catheter, Jane became nauseous and panicky. She threw up on herself as she was trying to articulate how she was feeling to the nurse. No words came out. The nurse looked at her coldly and like a mother to a brat said, "Cat got your tongue, Jane? If you ask me, I think you’re being a big baby. We all know you can talk. You talked before, Jane." The nurse wiped off Jane’s face and then paused, "You can teach a dog to stop pissing on a carpet if you rub it’s nose in it. We’ll see if we can’t teach you how to speak again." The nurse left the room without cleaning up Jane’s puke.
She was left there strapped into her bed with the smell of vomit for hours. She couldn’t tell how many. The TV had been on. The TV was always on, growing brighter and louder with the hour, or at least so it seemed to her.
He walked into the room, the man in the gray hat. Instead of a white coat he was wearing slacks and a green sweater today. Attached to the green sweater was a gold pin. It read, "Counselor of the Month." As he walked up to her he noticed the vomit on the sheets and his eyes squinted like a repulsed cowboy’s. "Jane, who did this to you?!", he asked with an intensely soft tone, "Tell me who did this to you and I’ll have them stoned... I’ll have them fired, Jane."
She just stared at him open eyed without even considering a reply. Something wasn’t quite real about her situation. She found herself staring at the man in the gray hat and then over just a few feet at the television. ‘They’re both quiet now’, she thought.
"Well Jane", said the man in the gray hat, "There’s only so much I can do... without your help." He walked to the other side of the room then turned his head so Jane could see his profile lined up with it’s silhouette. "Silence is the refusal to encounter one’s own life." He walked back to the door, "I’ll do what I can to help you, but you must trust me Jane. It takes two to build a relationship." With that said he left the room and immediately a nurse entered and changed Jane’s sheets and gown. The nurse chatted with her about nothing in particular and then left.

The 2nd Dream


Jane was laying in her hospital bed staring at the television in her dark room. She imagined yellow buttons in the back of her brain which she mentally pressed until they lit up. When they lit up she felt her body relax and a rather transparent body floated up out of the original one, still strapped to the bed. She felt herself float straight up through the ceiling and enter another room. The room she entered looked just like her own and there was a young man standing in the middle of it. He had a dead expression on his face as he stared at the television, which hung only a few feet away. She felt her body float over and then get sucked into the television. She saw his dead pan expression wake into an intense stare and then she woke up. It was morning.



The Above Room


The room that Jane entered in her dream was an actual room, and the young man she saw was actual as well. His name was Domingo. Domingo Carter Santiago. He was a "patient" at the hospital just as Jane was, and he was just as silent as she. It had been a number of years since he was first admitted. He had been emotionally and mentally shut down for most of that time as well.
The night that Jane’s presence entered his room, Domingo was doing his usual. Not really sleeping, not really awake. He stared. Sometimes at the television, sometimes at the wall or a spot on the floor. He didn’t talk to himself as he had before... too much time had passed and there was nothing to talk to himself about. There was a lingering awareness left inside of him that hadn’t quite faded away, and maybe that’s why he chose to make sense of what he saw.
That night as he stared past the television something jolted his attention to the screen. There were words on the screen that spelled, "Domingo’s Big Break!" Then he saw himself fighting the school bully the way he had years before. As he watched himself dodge the impact of each punch, the muscles in his immobile body spasmed accordingly. The expression on Domingo’s face woke up into the storm. He let the tears flow as he watched himself on the screen. "Welcome to Miami", the screen read and then it flashed to a sewer cap. There was light and music escaping from just around the sewer cap, and then the screen went blank. Domingo remembered himself and he felt an incredible urge to get to Miami. Miami was his big break...whatever was under that sewer cap!
Still standing there, Domingo deadened his expression. He knew there was a possibility that he was still being watched. The moment they saw the slightest bit of life in his eyes it was over for him- he knew it... there would be no hiding how he felt from them. Perhaps they weren’t paying much attention to him? It had been a matter of years since he had given up. His eyes drifted to the window- no bars!
Domingo Santiago did his best to look like a patient as he slowly made his way to the window. He felt it. It was glass. For the hell of it he tried, and to his surprise, the window opened. He peered down to see that he was 10 stories up. It was the first time he had ever looked out of that window- to actually look at something. The next story down had a window with a small 1 foot ledge extending from it, and it appeared that each lower floor was set up the same way. Domingo thought that maybe he could drop from ledge to ledge until he reached the ground, but 50 yards out there was a 20 foot fence that seemed impossible to pass. He imagined it probably had electricity running through it, ‘cause that’s the type of place it was. Domingo started to climb out of the window. The urge to leave was greater than the desire to live. He had to leave... right then.
Domingo lowered himself from his window ledge until his feet were 5 or 6 feet from the next ledge down. He let himself fall and his feet hit the next ledge sending him off balance, but he instinctively let himself drop so that he landed square on the window ledge with his butt. He muttered a silent, nonsensical prayer to himself and leaned back. He looked inside and sure enough, it looked just like his old room, except there was another name plate attached to the TV. Where it once spelled "Domingo" it now spelled "Jane". He remembered the bars on his windows beforehand... he remembered the feeling that came from looking at them for awhile. They were probably doing the same thing to this patient "Jane" as they had done with him. There wasn’t much hope for whoever else was under their control, he thought. Domingo could make out the shape of the patient lying in the bed as it was reflecting a haze of light from the television. The television was blue... but then in bright red letters it read, "Use your gift, Boy!" Domingo’s jaw dropped, and he saw a figure made of television light crawl out of the screen. He stared. It stopped... then it flew at him and connected with a silent explosion.
The next thing Domingo noticed was the 20 foot fence below him. He was flying over it at a massive speed like a projectile shot out of a cannon. "I’m dead", he said- and then he started to descend. As the tops of the oncoming trees approached it hit him, "Use your gift, Boy!". There was no thinking after that. Domingo entered the zone and his limbs grappled with each branch as they flew at him. His descent took on a horizontal slide buying him time to slow down. He felt his flesh getting cut from the scratching of branches but he never suffered a direct hit until he hit the ground, which broke away beneath his weight covering him with mud and water.
Domingo pulled himself up out of the muck onto a dead log. He felt a strange numbness all over his body as he looked into the darkness. There was a bit of light reflecting from the moon onto what surely looked like a swamp. It was too dark to take it all in but he could see movements in the water. Domingo held his breath for a moment. There was movement all around him. Within 5 feet of himself he saw what looked like logs of all sizes moving through the water. Gators!
He checked the log he was on- it was wood. Good. ‘There’s no time to waste.’, he thought, ‘Gotta keep on.’ He found two thin but strong branches, long enough to project out of the muck. Each one had a nob sticking out of it for his foot to stand on. Domingo took his already shredded shirt and tied the cloth from it to secure his feet to the sticks. He had to cut his pants into shorts and use that cloth as well. After they were complete, he used the stilts to keep himself out of the water. Domingo held onto tree limbs and vines for balance and slowly began to make his way through the muck.








The Next Day




There was nothing left of the kid, the man in the gray hat thought. "There was nothing left of him at all.", he said out loud. The patient Domingo had just over 2% of his personality intact, his motor skills were even damaged. The boy barely reacted to a door slammed next to him during testings. Even the peons had close to a percent more programming input availability than he had. 3.14% was supposed to be the cut off which meant- it had to be the demon whore!
The security cameras were scrutinized. They showed Domingo watching an ordinary television show when he suddenly came to. The television show was "Top CEO’s". It was one of the better episodes... but there was nothing to warrant a sudden change in expression, his opening of the window, or his appearance at Jane’s window. Again the cameras caught the look of surprise on Domingo’s face just before he disappeared from Jane’s window. There was no telling what happened to him.




Jane’s Room



The nurse who had left Jane laying in her own vomit appeared at her door. There was a maniacal grin on her face and her left eye was twitching. Cheerfully she said, "We get to go for a walk, Jane. You’ve fucked yourself now!"
The nurse pulled the catheter out from between Jane’s legs. "You wont need this anymore, Precious. You’ll have to make room for other things..." The nurse considered prodding her with her thumb, but the clock on the wall wouldn’t allow it. She made an adjustment to Jane’s bed and then pulled the section out of it which she was strapped to. The section was a mobile gurney, which allowed her to wheel Jane out of the room.
Corridors of white walls changed to corridors of white walls descending gradually downward. They were going downstairs.
"If you don’t say anything soon I get your tongue.", the nurse said drearily. "I’m not that important around here... You are though. I’ll be glad to have your tongue." The nurse seemed to cheer up slightly.
Jane was scared... but she was confused as well. There was always an intangible order to her fragmented life, and this piece of it was no less a shock than any other. But it was more horrible than any other- perhaps.
It took about a half an hour to get to where they were going. The first 20 minutes involved white walls and gray carpet, but the last 10 minutes introduced scenery of a different nature. At first Jane noticed tiny serial numbers printed on the walls. They were printed just below the crack of the ceiling and she only noticed them because she was laying on her back.
"I know all about you, Jane.", the nurse started after a while of silence, "You came from a good family... and they had good values... but they didn’t put you to work quick enough... and you threw away an education."
Jane noticed numbers covering more and more of the walls and then strange symbols started to appear mixed in with them. As they progressed on, the white walls were replaced with light brown stucco slabs. There weren’t numbers on these walls, just symbols of some ancient nature. They were familiar to Jane. Without exception each marking was carved into a wall- not drawn. The corridor began to smell.
"It was only a matter of time before you turned into a lesbian and started dealing drugs." The nurse shuddered and shook, "I hate you lesbians!! Always dealing your drugs and ruining good furniture." The nurse’s eyes were full of tears but she quieted down. This part of the corridor always frightened her.
Jane turned her head to see what she could already smell.


Responsibility



Che’ra was managing on an hour of sleep a day. Her hour of sleep and her 5 minute letter to her grandma were the only moments of free time she had. She traveled constantly between Albany and Miami, but was mostly in Miami after the news.
The news was simple. People were dying all over the city for apparently no reason. This might have been acceptable if only lower class people were dying, but the strange fate already claimed the life of 1 CEO. All of the deaths occurred in bathrooms or kitchens, and all of the people who were at each household died at roughly the same time- always within the hour. The CEO was found in a bathroom with 4 other corpses... cause of death unknown.
Che’ra thought "water supply". She had tests done on the water supply in all different areas of the city. She thought that the water could have prematurely reached the pollution point, but those tests showed up negative. The reports showed that none of the victims had any kind of toxin poisoning. Che’ra checked for new chemicals that might have been introduced, which wouldn’t have appeared on toxicology reports, but they didn’t turn up either. There was another problem too. People were dying in random areas throughout the city. If people were dying from something in the water, the deaths would be concentrated to certain areas.
Che’ra wondered about us Others. She had known about our rebellion and even our whereabouts for a while. It didn’t take her long to find us either. As a safety precaution, all higher level businessmen had tiny locators implanted under their skin. Some of these locators were fused with X-ray cameras complete with audio inputs. The businessmen were told that they’d be rescued immediately if anything ever happened, but Che’ra sacrificed all of them to collect information.
She learned all about Hell. Each one of us plotting against their empire. She had seen and heard me... The man in the gray hat became curious about Che’ra’s find and told her to continue her investigation. After a short time they knew general information on all of us. The man in the gray hat took a particular interest in Darkwing and they had plans to invade the warehouses to get him. All of that changed though when they captured the girl who was always referred to as Jane. The invasion was cancelled, and the warehouses were left officially protected until their usefulness came into play. The man in the gray hat didn’t speak of what that use would be though.
All the cameras ever showed was the one warehouse called Hell. It was the only place they kept the corpses, so it was the only observable area. Che’ra sent spies to the other warehouses, but they never came back. Then she sent spies out with locators attached to them...

Darkwing


He could feel her. He could feel her ever since he was born. That’s how he could always find her, but he didn’t know that until now. She was dangerous though and she probably wouldn’t recognize him, not in this body.
Darkwing was only a third human now. He knew who Sir Jane was and how she had become separated from herself. He knew more about himself. He had to find the spirit that left the girl. He knew the spirit... and he was afraid.
She didn’t have a name; she was a presence. He was a presence as well, like her, from the beginning of the planet ruled by time. They never knew each other directly because they lived only through the being of human life, and only one life at a time.
Darkwing had no idea what she’d be like detached from her humanity. He had learned to submit to the beings he was born in over time, although he was also well aware that outside of the illusion, time didn’t exist. He made a choice and that choice made him too. He was aware of many of the lives he was living now. Those lives seemed less separated to him. Time was a shape changing years into solid layers of relatable knowledge.
Darkwing descended to the base of a mountain with a tall waterfall pouring out into a stream. There were incredibly large trees forming a forest around the stream so he landed in the water 30 yards from the waterfall’s pool. As he wandered toward the waterfall her presence grew acutely inside of him. She seemed everywhere. The water in the pool had an unusual neon green brightness to it, yet it was calm like glass.
Her arm broke through the surface by the water’s edge and pulled Darkwing into the pool. He couldn’t see anything other than a dark shape holding him down easily in the green mixture of water and light. She had him so easily- his struggle was hopeless. Darkwing felt her hands on him. Each touch bore into him past the skin, grating against his nerves. The sensation of her touch was just overwhelming, a concentrated combination of shivers and tickles... so much so that instead of laughing he screamed.
Although he was drowning, Darkwing orgasmed violently. Her hand had brushed against his crotch leaving no control over his body’s response. She was still for a moment, holding him under the water. Darkwing saw her face dimly lit under the water for the first time. She was studying him. He was still struggling to free himself, but only through weak spasms. She reached down and held his crotch as she studied him. He screamed against his will and then stopped breathing. Darkwing knew he was at the end. Only when she released his crotch could he relax and let the calmness of death come over him. It was the most peaceful feeling he had ever had in his life... but she interrupted it.
Sir Jane lifted him like a feather out of the pool and laid him on flat rocks. She knew there was life in him, and she knew just how much to give back.



Ray




Ray was furious. A single sentence echoed from each wall of his skull, repeating over and over again. "They made me what I am." Ray was right; he had been programmed. He should have known when they gave him all the freedom in the outside world, without so much as an interrogation. He could think for himself, but whenever they wanted to they could think for him.
Here he was in a cold, dank room that he had walked in himself, locking himself in! Why did he do it? He remembered walking right in after they told him to. He remembered being repulsed by the room, which was a common prison cell, as he walked into it and then closed the door behind him. There was no escort.
Then there was a knock on the door followed by the entry of 2 peons. Ray waited for them to get closer to him. He was going to kill at least one for sure, until they mentioned his name. One peon said, "The man in the gray hat wants to see you." That’s all it took. Ray forgot about everything he was thinking and feeling before that comment. Without so much as a shrug he left with the peons, completely unaware of the fate that waited for him.


Alligator Alley




They should never have taken that ride, she thought. Now they paid the price.
Her and her boyfriend had successfully avoided the Peace Force for 6 days as they walked and hitched towards Miami, Florida from Albany, NY. It had been a grueling 6 days and it was now over. Her boyfriend lay dead, bleeding on the highway and she was alone. The man who killed him had been their last ride. He wanted to have sex with her but they stood up against him. After the man killed her lover he jumped back into his white van and drove off. She imagined that he forgot to rape her, like someone would forget to pump gas that they already paid for.
The man had threatened them about this place- she looked around. A 10 foot fence off the side of the road with the top slanted toward the jungle within. Barbed wire stretched across the top of the fence. She had seen the many eyes light up red, reflected from the headlights, as they traveled through it. Alligator Alley... The man said the highway was surrounded for 40 miles by gators. He had said the people around there were just as bad as the gators, and then he shot her lover in the heart and drove away. She should have fucked him, she thought.
As she walked toward the fence she thought of how lucky she had been. She was the only one of her friends who wasn’t forced into doing favors for The Man, but then again... it had more to do with her lover than luck. They had been running and hiding the whole time... and it was his idea.
As she walked toward the fence she realized it had been his idea the whole time, and that his idea was over now because he was dead. She took off her shirt and pants when she reached the fence, climbing halfway up the fence, then placed them over the barbed wire. She climbed back down and turned to look back at his shadow of a body. She was only a shadow of a life herself now... but she was going to be something else soon. He would too, she was sure of it. She would bring him back. She would bring him right back.
She cut herself climbing over the barbed wire but the pain didn’t catch up with how she felt inside. She was a dream and a sacrifice because he had turned her into one, and now it was her turn to play. The fear only increased her drama as she removed her shoes and socks before stepping into the mud and water. Each step sunk her in further... She looked around. There was nothing... No red eyes staring up at her, no sound at all. Her death was perfectly still.



Possible Science



It has been agreed upon by many members of the scientific community that the brain lives on up to 10 minutes after death. It has been suggested that during those few minutes a person’s brain may still record what it’s eyes can see, if they are open. Well, it just so happened to be that the boyfriend’s eyes were open and his head was facing toward the fence behind him... where she was.
His glazed eyes watched her subtly discard rationality. You could tell, not by her actions, but by the look in her eyes. She had a lot of his blood on her. His brain registered the connection. She walked over to the fence, and before she made her final climb she looked back at his body. The eyesight was all the brain had left so it made the most of it. Any reflection of moonlight was caught by the boyfriend’s dead eyes, and his brain was able to follow her into the swamp.
His fading brain was able to capture something hers preferred not to. It saw a large gator clamping onto her head and dragging her under the water. The eyes remained fixed on that area for 5 minutes longer than what was previously thought possible. During it’s last minute, the brain noticed something else in the swamp. There was a figure hovering above the water making it’s way out of the swamp. It kept moving closer until it reached the fence, then it looked up. It had noticed the clothes on top of the fence. The brain registered that the figure was not a woman. It was a man, which meant... she was gone. His brain died after that was registered.




The Lowest Level




As Jane was rolled down the last leg of the corridor she was overwhelmed by the powerful smell. It was a smell that made her eyes water. The walls had changed again... this time from stucco to human! The walls were formed from limbless human beings. They were just torsos with heads, sewn together to form a human body blanket. This huge blanket of bodies was either attached to the wall, or was in itself a wall- it was impossible to tell. They were male and female... symbols carved into each. The stumps which used to be legs were sewed onto the shoulders of the body below them. Stumps which were previously arms were sewn to the stumps adjacent to them and the sides of each body were sewn to one another.
Jane noticed that each mouth was sewn shut, but that some of the eyes were open. She forced herself to look closer and her body broke out into chills... they were alive! Many of them were alive, expressing it... horror! Those that were alive tried to moan when they met Jane’s eyes. There were guttural sounds and whimpers starting to fill the corridor, and the nurse began to lose it herself. She wailed along with their painful song. Her face full of snot and tears... terrified.
Jane was terrified also. Their struggle cut into her and she began to absorb it from somewhere in her body. The horror welled up and a numbness followed... but just before Jane blacked out she saw the serial number of the door ahead of her. G66.


The Blackout



Jane was walking through the jungle when it was either very early in the morning, or else just getting to be dark. Fog rolled and lofted on the ground, covering much of the green growth below it. It seemed to reflect a light of its own on the surrounding area, creating a haze of neon green. She saw someone just ahead of her and walked up to them. Jane couldn’t tell which sex the person was by looking at their face, it could have been male or female. They were tall and thin, wearing a loose garment of surreal colors made from what looked like feathers and leaves. Their hair hung to their shoulders and it was partially braided, partially straight and partially dread locked. Jane thought that she noticed the slight bulge of breasts behind their garment.
Cat’s eyes. They were definitely similar to cat’s eyes... slightly larger than human eyes, as the balls seemed to almost pop out of their head. Below the eyes and the slightly indistinct nose, was a slight grin. It wasn’t quite a smirk, and it wasn’t just a happy grin, but it didn’t make them look altogether insane either. The grin spoke, "What do you want?" The voice trailed off into echoes without the intent of evoking emotion. Jane didn’t reply because she was wondering how to say anything at all, out loud. "I’m your doctor.", the voice said, "Now look at my eyes and speak." Jane looked at the eyes and felt the words surge out of her, "I believe my mind is gone.", she said. Their eyes remained locked in a quiet stare for a moment then the grin replied, "No... your mind is right here... It’s you that must be someplace else... I can’t say that I notice you anywhere around here."





Attack of The Replacement System


It had been months since Che’ra sent out the first spies with locators attached to them. These spies were sent to report on the main warehouses of the Others, and to avoid the Hellhouse. Not one of them had come back, and they all shared the same story before disappearing forever. Here is an account of someone who tried to enter a warehouse from above ground:
"I’m entering the vicinity now... There’s no one around, no security as I can tell... I’m freely walking up to the warehouse wall- there is something. I can hear music coming from inside, rock music... Oh my God--" Click. End of reception.
They didn’t all exclaim, "Oh my God.", but always something in a detached, shocked voice. The reception was shut off immediately from each spy who was sent. Che’ra tried to solve the problem by placing the locator in a random part of the spy’s body, and she saw to it that the location of the device was unknown to them. It brought her up to 15 seconds of extra air time before the locator was shut down.
Che’ra viewed the locators in real time, allowing her to listen to everything that happened as it was happening. The locators with visual capabilities never showed a human on their screens. The warehouses seemed always unprotected and the sewers vacant; all except for the music. From the first locator viewed, Che’ra could hear at least the slightest hum of the music. It was just a background drone that was barely audible for the first month. It was enough to spark an interest in Che’ra. After all, it was the only link she had at the moment.
With the 15 extra seconds she extracted by hiding the locators, Che’ra was able to gain a sound sample and amplify it through a computer. She was able to capture an entire line of a song. It was a strange voice singing, " The dark humor of God is what I love most." Che’ra found it interesting but couldn’t understand why it would have such an effect on anyone who might have been there to hear it. She thought she’d have more luck amplifying the music as it was played live instead of processing it on a computer, so she upgraded the audio inputs on her next batch of locators. Che’ra worried for a moment that she was being obsessive. This research wasn’t part of her duties... it was her first ever side project.

Alligator Alley



Domingo took off his home made stilts and looked up at the fence. 10 feet high and the top was covered in barbed wire. He couldn’t believe there were clothes hunched up on the barbed wire just above where he was standing. "The way was prepared.", he said to himself in only partial belief- and then he climbed.
There was a body laying at the side of the road with a large wound in it’s chest. Domingo didn’t know why, but he bent down and closed the eyes of the corpse and then broke down crying. He walked off quickly with a powerful emotion in his gut that he couldn’t decipher. Who was the boy? The dead boy’s eyes looked so familiar to him, but he didn’t know from where.
As Domingo walked down the road he felt the sensation that he was a part of something indescribable. The road was alive, the fence was alive, and he... now too, was alive. By the time Domingo entered Miami he was running on different fuels. He had eaten nothing all day, and only drank from the dew on leaves. He knew his feet were walking in the direction they had to, although there were no directions that his conscious mind could consider... and then he saw it. The sewer cap almost radiated its own source of light for him to see; there wasn’t a doubt.
Domingo was unaware of the sewer’s stench or the darkness that enclosed him, but he could hear the music from the moment he dropped down. He was the only person to hear the music from such a distance- 3 miles away. He followed it without thinking.

"Happiness says the stream ain’t gold
It’s running fresh with life. Falling
from the heavy cloud, pushing, pouring
straight through time. Yeah, things are
looking up I’ve got new shoes
and for this road a guide..."
45 minutes later Domingo entered into the warehouse above him.

Darkwing

Darkwing came to slowly. He felt his back against a tree with branches harnessing his wings and arms to the point of immobility. It looked as if the branches had naturally grown around his limbs. "I’m in trouble here.", Darkwing muttered to himself. "Yes you are!", an electric shock of a voice railed inside of his head. Darkwing winced. Her voice was too powerful, causing him pain. "Oh baby. Please don’t speak into my head!", he thought back to her, wherever she was. It happened again like a lightening strike, "Why?!" Darkwing screamed and he could hear her start laughing, but thankfully it was projected externally. "Why?", she whispered again but out loud. Darkwing was agitated, "‘Cause you’re killing me, Girl!"
She jumped from the top of the tree above him and landed squarely on her feet, immediately staring him up and down. There was an immature, playful look in her eyes that suggested danger and amusement. Darkwing was scared. He didn’t detect any familiarity in her stare and he didn’t feel any towards her either. She was a huge surreal beast to him, like an enormous lion covered with alien blood. "Do you remember me, Baby? It’s Adam.", he tried to muster out, "We know each other. We’ve known each other... just not quite like this."
She just stared at him. She must have been 9 feet tall. Her skin wasn’t quite as dark as his and she was covered in what seemed like flourescent sweat. Darkwing felt heat coming from out of nowhere. He felt it around his entire body and it was slowly increasing in temperature. She was doing it- he knew it. She was gonna burn him. Darkwing got pissed, "Damn it, Girl! What do you think you’re doing?!" His eyes forced light into hers. The heat was rising. "I came here to find you! I came here to bring you back ‘cause you’ve come apart, Girl! Acting like a damn animal! I know you! And you know me!" He was screaming now ‘cause he could feel the burn... From out of nowhere Darkwing screamed, "Let’s sleep in!"
The pain immediately stopped. Darkwing lay collapsed, strapped to the tree. He had no idea what he had just said. The creature before him continued to stare, but with a different look in her eyes. They closed, but the 3rd eye opened up and she began to remember. She remembered one moment with him that occurred in several alternate lives. Rome, Egypt, Africa, America. In a palace, in a shack, on the street, in the woods... One memory with a 1000 faces, just the two of them. A simple memory, him turning to her as they lay together and saying, "Let’s sleep in, Baby."
She was in awe.