Post by Tahoe on Oct 12, 2016 18:03:10 GMT -5
Tahoe- blue
Zeppelin- red
He'd been running for hours now, though it didn't seem to matter; no matter how far or how fast his legs carried him, it was always a few paces away. He didn't know exactly what it was, had no clue where it came from- couldn't even remember at what point it started chasing him… or why.
The soles of Tahoe's feet were burning now from a combination of skin-to-ground pounding and the massive amounts of vibrations being produced from every moving thing in the area around him. The wind blowing through the trees shook the birds and the squirrels from the branches, his movements made the bugs before him scatter and twigs underneath him snap. Gooseflesh was raised on the back of his neck and his heart was pounding beyond that of his raised blood pressure while terror continuously eked into his nerves. He'd been going for so long now without an end in sight, without a break from the massive anxiety clogging his mind- ripping at any shred of hope or morale that could have existed within him.
There was a change quite suddenly, a shift in the flow of the endless circuit. A shadow grew beyond his racing body, an ink-like blackness bleeding into the soil of the forest; it rolled outwards and sideways until it covered the entirety of the forest floor. Fallen pine needles dripped ichor, inconspicuous stones were slick with ebony goo, twigs and branches bowed beneath the heavy tar that blanketed them. What he saw was impossible, realistically improbable. Organic things didn't just get overcome with unknown matter- almost like the black goop was a conscious animal in itself that purposefully covered everything based on some whim or instinct.
“F***!”
He shouted, hopping over a rather ominous-looking pile of leaves. Tahoe wasn't inclined to cursing or unkind language, but under the current circumstance his usual polite filter was gone. When he came back down, his feet landed heavily in the thick sludge with a wet splashing sound. His calves were covered in the slime now, and the flesh of his feet was completely covered. Tahoe tried to lift his right foot in order to continue his escape, but there was resistance. His left foot met the same fate of sluggishness, still moving yet halting in its advancement.
“No, no, no.”
Tahoe's voice was rising as did his already extreme levels of panic. The beast was just behind him now, slower in its movements. The anthromorph knew that the monster was not slowed by the muck and instead moved with a precision and agility that could only come from being in familiar surroundings- he didn't know how he knew it, maybe it was on a based subconscious level. He was reverting back into the most primal of mindsets, exercised and known well throughout earth's history; prey.
Contrary to his own nature, Tahoe planted his feet firmly apart as best as he could in the slick grime and stretched his muscle-strewn arms out to his sides with his long fingers bent to ready his black claws. His cast his wide eyes about in a frenzy to search the shadows of the forest for the creature stalking him, but it was not there. If this had been an ordinary enemy, Tahoe would have scared it off already- or talked it down, or ran back to Nakoma. But this was no everyday denizen of the dome, and it was highly suspect that it was even a creature of this mortal realm. As it was, this was a kill or die situation and Tahoe had never been so frightened in his life. There was something distinctly evil about it although he had not seen it. Not metaphorically evil, but in a literal sense. Its mere presence warped his very soul and set his teeth grinding with the feeling of being utterly doomed beyond more than the physical sense.
Movement to the right made him whip his tail and gnash his great needle-pointed teeth at the empty air. There was a second, no, half of a millisecond in which the scene before him disappeared and was replaced by the quiet forest of ordinary life. It was so sudden and so quick that Tahoe was sure that it was wishful imagining.
“What do you want?!”
He shouted into the trees once more shadowed by the gray tones of the tainted air. All was silent except for Tahoe's heavy breathing and the sound of his heartbeat like a war drum in his ears. No birds sang, no wind moved, no vibrations alerted his muck-covered feet. Seventeen heartbeats passed before Tahoe had an answer. Breathing, heavy and labored. It was to his back. He whipped around and faced off against a wisp of smoke ten paces away. It blended into the ashen trees and the charcoal leaves, barely a collection of smoke amongst the gray backdrop. The smoke was breathing deeply but otherwise stayed still.
“What do you want?!”
He repeated, his voice lower and more menacing-a threat. One that he couldn't possibly hope to deliver upon nothing but the idea of a nightmare. If he touched it at all, he knew that he would just pass right through unless the wisp wished it otherwise. He had no power to demand answers here in the dark creature's domain, it had the power and the authority although it was miniscule and unassuming. Something lurked within it, something that mirrored the opening of the void itself- a passage to true and unimaginable suffering.
“I want you to stop running.”
The voice was distinctly female with a strange accent and echoed around him rather than from the small pillar of mist just beyond his reach. A voice like a secret that conjured to mind images of obtuse fog and curling fingers of turgid heat. He lifted his head a little higher than was necessary and opened his jaw wide to deliver a crocodillian hiss to the beast; he'd never done that before, and didn't know that he could do it. What was happening to him?
The wisp drifted a little closer to him as if cautious, but Tahoe was not fooled by its innocuous demeanor when he could still feel the darkness leaking from it like a squeezed sponge,
“Why are you running? You're the one that keeps calling for me.”
He had no idea what she was talking about; he would never call on such a malevolent thing as her. A string of mist extended from the main body of smoke and Tahoe instantly recoiled from the touch, his great show of aggression forgotten in the face of the terrorist coming so close to touching him. He was sure that a connection would mean his demise, that all of the goodness and beauty of this world would be sucked away from him like a straw in a drink- happiness would never again exist. And finally when he left this world, his eternal soul would be forever cast into the pits of pain and horror for all of eternity. No escape, no reprieve, just endless pain- forever.
The wisp slowly retracted its ghostly arm and instead floated around him in a circle like a wolf to the lamb,
“Who are you?”
The echoing voice was cast into a whisper. Tahoe bit his bottom lip and felt the familiar prick of his teeth against flesh that drew fresh pearls of blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw a confusing myriad of patterns and colors against his eyelids that only increased his fear, so he opened his eyes again and followed the circling wisp with them,
“God. That's what everybody else calls you- but I don't think you are. Everything that's happened- it can't be real. You can't be real.”
Tahoe had no idea what she was talking about, but the theoretics were beginning to jumble his sharp thoughts into piles of hastily assorted words and ideas.
“I am real...”
He croaked weakly. The top of the wisp cocked itself to the side in a human manner, almost like a head tilting in consideration.
“It's you. You aren't real.”
Anger filled the space between them by physically manifesting into the color of dull red splashing their surroundings. The thing laughed humorlessly,
“That's funny. I know that you're the one that's supposed to dictate reality and all of that good stuff, but I would argue that any conscious form would be real. A thought, a feeling- nothing you can touch. Since I am these things within a skin-bag, I would consider myself very real. It's you that I'm questioning. I don't know if you have thoughts and feelings, you may just be a trick of the mind. Or a dream. Prove it, tell me something that would constitute the truth of your existence.”
The wisp stood completely still now and waited on Tahoe's answer. He didn't quite know what to say to her sudden bombardment of ideas and demands. Her tone hadn't risen past a calm level, but something in the voice commanded that he speak or be eliminated.
“I..”
His voice trembled and she laughed again, a cruel and mocking sound,
“You're shaking like a leaf. Am I really so terrifying? After all, you are much bigger than I am. If you're supposed to be God, maybe I'm the devil to have you so scared.”
Tahoe's eyes narrowed and he locked onto that one statement out of everything. She was the devil. There was no other explanation for any of this.
“You're not real.”
He said quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut once more and brought his fists up to the side of his head to try and banish the dizzying pictures behind his eyelids. Satan was standing only feet from him. Not some goat-hoofed beast with great horns and fire for eyes, not some viciously mad ghoul from the underworld, but a small flicker of smoke and death and hopelessness debating the definitions of reality.
“We've already established that I've real. We haven't established that you are. You just keep repeating yourself like some sort of robot- which you might be, now that I think of it… possibilities are endless no matter the improbability.”
Tahoe opened his eyes once more and felt a sudden compulsion to fight for his eternal soul. She was evil incarnate, and she was playing tricks on him; eventually she would get bored and obliterate him. Lucifer did not offer mercy, second chances, or reward for cooperation. Really, he had nothing to lose.
“I am Tahoe.”
He stated plainly as he rose to his full height over the tiny thing. She floated back a small step and ignited a feeling of victory within Tahoe's breast.
“Begone, devil. You have no power here.”
He snarled and made to jump at her, but she slipped easily to his side in a slow dodge with a light giggle chiming musically through the air,
“Not the smartest thing, are you- tin man?”
He snarled again and reached for her with his claws extended, but again she slipped easily away.
“You're actually slow, as well. I wonder if your body operates at the same speed as your brain. Must be some malfunction in your programming. I wonder, if I open you up, will I find blood or sparks?”
Her voice rose higher in a show of amusement, yet Tahoe kept coming at her. He was moving as fast as he could, which was very fast indeed. She must have been warping time or… physics… or whatever made people fast and slow. He saw his arms moving and leaving trails of color behind, it was amazing and beautiful and for just a moment he forgot the devil and his fear- all he focused on was the beautiful rainbow that he made in the air.
“Ow!”
He looked at his hand when he felt the sting of a fine cut open his flesh and introduce his thick blood into the world.
“I suppose you are a man.”
He stared at the wisp once more, coming fully back to his senses.
“In that case, Tahoe- something is very wrong with you. It appears that there is something very wrong with me, as well.”
The wisp approached him once more and quickly pushed him to the ground with her extended smoke-arms. She was tiny, but he went down easily and gracelessly onto his rump- now he was coated in demonic ichor all on his backside.
“Bear with me here, turtle. Do you really think I'm the devil?”
“Yes.”
“Interestingly enough, I'm not. At least, I don't think I am. Unless I'm living inside of some sort of disfigured reality while acting in another. But that's all a little complex for you; suffice it to say that I was born as a shifter, and have always been a shifter for as long as my conscious mind can remember. I have a mother, father, three siblings, a best friend, a cat, a few dogs, a few horses, a snake, and a menagerie of other loved ones and acquaintances. So you see, I'm not the devil. Technically speaking.”
Her words were dizzying, and it was becoming very hard to keep track of the things she was saying in relation to everything else that came before it. Tahoe forced himself out of his dim confusion by gritting his teeth and opening his eyes wider, using pictures in his mind to connect to the words echoing around him. He was going crazy, he had to be- the situation and the feelings and the warping were so alien as to be completely inconceivable to a sane and steady mind. Tahoe wondered briefly what had happened to cause the loss of his sanity but he quickly forgot the thought when she next asked him a direct question that he could answer.
“What do you see? Explain how the area looks, how I look to you.”
Okay. He could do that. Tahoe still wasn't sure whether this was Satan playing him or if he had gone insane, but there was nothing much he could do right now besides run. And he was so tired of running.
He lifted his hand from the ground and presented it to the wisp,
“There's black ink everywhere. On my feet, my legs, my hands...”
He gestured around them,
“The trees are gray and covered in shadows like all the color has been drained from the world.”
He pointed at her,
“You're a ball of smoke with a voice that echos.”
Said ball of smoke said nothing for several minutes, and Tahoe stared at her expectantly. To sprout lies or the truth, he knew not. Finally, she seemed to come to some conclusion which was indicated by a breathy sigh,
“Quite the opposite for me. The trees are gold, the ground is covered in snow, and you look like a very big man-alligator with starlight coming from your eyes.”
Well.
“I knew something was wrong when the snow wasn't cold. I'd never seen snow before, not in person, but I know it's supposed to be unbearably freezing. I have a guess here...”
The wisp floated down toward the ground to meet Tahoe's eyes evenly.
“If I were a gambling woman, I'd place money on the possibility that we're both hallucinating.”
But, why would he be hallucinating? And how would two people be hallucinating at once? He'd never done it before, so he wasn't completely sure on how tricks of the mind worked; she could be telling him the truth or she could be lying.
“Prove it.”
He whispered with a little fear tinging his voice. She sighed again,
“Close your eyes.”
Suspicious but curious and no longer quite as afraid, he did as she instructed,
“Clear your mind of all thoughts, picture nothing- tune out the world. Focus on your breathing, feel it and nothing else.”
“There's shapes behind my eyelids.”
“Cover them up with a black blanket. You can do it.”
Tahoe concentrated on his breathing first. In, out, in out. He ignored the feeling on being inside his body, which was much easier than it sounded. Once he had that down, he covered his mind with a blanket of onyx. In, out, in, out. It was just him-nothing existed.
“Tahoe, wake up.”
His eyes snapped open and his vision filled suddenly with the browns, yellows, and reds of the autumn forest. The smell of crisp wind was in his nose, the sound of a woodpecker hard at work somewhere near, and a girl crouched before him.
“Can you see me now?”
He nodded dumbly and rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't imagining anything.
“Good. Now, listen closely because this won't last long. We must have walked through some sort of strange hallucinogenic cloud, probably airborne through plants or something. Or it may have been in the water- point is, we're both tripping. It's pretty suspicious, and I don't know if it's harmful or not, so we should stick close. We're both too vulnerable to be running around. I suggest we hide under that slate overhang and ride it out. When we're sober again, I assume you'll try to murder me, so we'll deal with that in the morning, I guess. For now, you just look scary- I'll do the rest. Deal?”
What else could he do but agree? The girl was silent as she looked him up and down with a thoughtful expression,
“You may be slow, and kinda weird looking, but you sure are a pretty thing. My momma always said that pretty don't ride, and it sure don't last. I suggest you take this opportunity to hone your critical thinking skills, otherwise you'll be up s*** creek in ten years.”
She stood up and looked around before heading towards the aforementioned slate shelter without any sort of indication that she'd said anything offensive or otherwise to him. Tahoe's vision began to waver from reality back to the color-drained world of his imagination, but at least now he knew that it wasn't real and therefore he wasn't scared. That is, until the feeling that something terrible was about to happen filled him once more. Funny how anxiety can cripple an otherwise sane and stable person, funnier still how altered states of mind seemed to magnetize and exaggerate emotions until they filled one up completely and dominated the spirit. His eyes once more saw the muted grays of the forest, but now they were less menacing and gave off the impression of ageless elegance, like a black-and-white photo rather than the shadows of a horror film.
He slowly got to his feet and made his way to the girl now sitting cross-legged under the watchful stone and he found that his soles no longer suctioned into the black muck of the ground and instead he walked upon it naturally. His body descended into a cross-legged position astride the girl, now no longer a wisp but a color-drained version of herself.
“It's strange, well, stranger than you would imagine the original situation to be. I'm not usually this talkative. I can't seem to stop talking, actually. I'm starting to annoy myself.”
She glanced up at him, and he felt that she was expecting him to reply, as social customs dictated.
“I um...”
He got lost for a second in her black eyes when he took notice of them, like the deepest pit of secrets- mainly, he was distracted by the way his reflection caught in them and began to swirl around and around like a spinning top. He must have gotten too close to her face for comfort trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at because she shoved his shoulders quite suddenly and like a leaf in the wind, he toppled onto his back from the sheer force of the action.
“Are we going to have a problem?”
Her voice was venom and he tried to sit up to apologize but he was hampered by the wicked blade of a hatchet waiting to greet him upon arising. He went cross-eyed from staring at the point hovering just in front of his nose,
“No, I'm sorry- I wasn't trying to scare you, you're eyes were doing something weird and I was trying to look and see and I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me.”
She left the axe hovering before him for a few more seconds, which seemed much longer in his altered head; eventually she pulled away and he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Well, at least now I got you talking. What's the point of being so big when you get scared so easily?”
“I don't… usually. I guess I'm just in a weird place right now.”
“Do you also usually try to kiss strangers? That's dangerous here, you should really stop doing that.”
“I wasn't trying to kiss you! I wouldn't do that!”
“Are you saying that I'm not pretty enough to kiss?”
“No! You are! I just-”
She let loose a full-bellied laugh at his stuttering defense,
“I'm just f***ing with you.”
She slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and he flinched, to which she laughed some more. Tahoe didn't complain or comment and instead looked at the ground. Normally, he tolerated being made fun of- he was used to it. Sticks and stones, as they say. But now, he was beginning to get irritated at the brash girl that circumstances had thrust him with- annoyance simmered just on the brink of becoming something stronger but she quickly deflated him,
“Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me.”
She scratched her head and shrugged,
“I promise I don't usually act so casually with strangers, nor am I ever this happy. It's a little frightening, to be honest. Personality morphing doesn't usually happen with things like this.”
Tahoe mustered up a fake smile for her, only because he couldn't find a real one in his usually brimming arsenal. It was meant to be reassuring, but he knew it looked more like a grimace.
“It's okay, I don't feel myself, either. I promise I'm usually nicer.”
He stuck out his hand for her to shake, a proper introduction and apology all in one. She stared at it long and hard enough for Tahoe to second-guess himself and begin to withdraw but she lashed out lightning-fast and grasped his forearm. Her hands were quite tiny, he noticed. It was rare that a person could get a good grip on any part of his arm, but her palm barely held onto half of the inside of it. He was confused for a moment and his fist assumption was that she was about to cut the appendage off, but she stared into his eyes with conviction and neutrality- no malice to be found in her expression. Tahoe grabbed her tattooed forearm as well, easily circling it with his entire hand,
“I'm Zeppelin.”
An odd name, but who was he to judge? An odd handshake as well, but strangely satisfying- it gave the impression of equality rather than the subtle battle for dominance that a handshake provided. They let go of one another and some of the tension eased out of Tahoe, a sense of safety among the panic still mysteriously eating away inside of him. They sat in silence for awhile and just stared at one another, not in any form of romantic way- just studying features and oddities. The substance inside of them allowed the two to bypass social taboos for some unknown reason, and it also gave the impression that they could feel each others' energies, though Tahoe was loath to acknowledge that it may not be an imagined ability. Zeppelin was the one to break the almost meditative silence when her eyes widened and she whispered,
“Turn around slowly and tell me that I'm seeing things.”
Uh-oh.
Tahoe inhaled deeply and did as she directed to find that she was not imagining anything- there was really a very large bear lumbering towards them.
“Just stay still and he may not see us.”
Tahoe whispered without looking at her.
“He? That's definitely a girl.”
“I'm not going to ask how you know that.”
“Because she has boobs?”
“Wait. I'm looking at a bear, what do you see?”
“A human. Well, more or less. She's just standing there.”
“So is the bear. Nope, now he's moving toward us.”
“Regardless of what we see, there may actually be something coming towards us that is neither.”
“What do we do?”
“Run.”
Both of them got up simultaneously and scurried away, two bodies now pounding the black muck to escape the unknown-bear-human-whatever thing that may or may not exist. Just like before, Tahoe felt something following him. He could not see or hear it, but he could feel it in his feet.
“Oh s***, what is that?!”
Zeppelin glanced behind them and caught a bust of speed to get farther away from whatever she saw. Tahoe's heart was pounding hard in his chest. The gray trees around him were shifting in his peripherals unnaturally, and they began once more to blend into ominous shadows. He couldn't explain exactly what it was, but something about the trees filled him with paranoia. The mysterious emotion was confirmed when a skinny young tree bent in a sprightly fashion and reached for him with branches grasping like arms. He shrieked and dodged it, nearly knocking into the much smaller girl with him. Intellectually, he knew that it was a figment of his mind; but instinctively and emotionally, his nerves were reacting just as an animal would. He kept trying to tell himself that it wasn't real, but more trees attempted to grab at him and the mantra could do nothing against induced base terror and reactionary impulse. He could no more stand still and see what became of him than he could turn into a bird and fly away.
He looked at Zeppelin farther ahead who was much faster than him and found that she was practically pushing off of the trees with her hands in order to keep her feet from touching the ground as much as possible, her head was bent to watch her foot falls despite the speed in which they made impact. Finally they broke the tree line and came upon a small meadow of wild-flowers, a respite from the groping trees. Zeppelin sprung into the safety of the tall grass and sprawling wildflowers and let loose a string of loud curses. Tahoe slowed down and studied the way the girl jumped as if playing hop-scotch, though he couldn't see what was harassing her from the way the grass reached past her hips. He couldn't run around the tree-line because there were trees, and he needed to get away from the things that were still following them, so he went in after Zeppelin but instantly regretted his decision. At least he could dodge the trees; he couldn't get away from carnivorous plants. He could tell himself that he was imagining things again and let the grass bite him, because things you imagined couldn't physically hurt you. Except that the grass- adorned with tiny mouths filled with razor-teeth fixed to the top of each blade- did hurt. Every time one bit him, which was quite a lot, it hurt tremendously. It felt as if he were being quickly eaten by a pack of minuscule dogs, the stinging bearing greater pain with the sheer number of bites. They had to get out of the clearing as quickly as possible. Zeppelin was almost to the end, but Tahoe was in the middle of it.
He made no noise, though he wanted to scream- instead he saved his breath and galloped through as if his life depended on it.
Zeppelin dashed into the forest once more and he followed. A tree hit his shoulder with a snap of its thick limb and it felt as if somebody had actually punched him. If they could be hurt by hallucinations, what would that thing behind them do once it caught up?
Tahoe lost track of time, but they'd been running long enough for his entire body to ache with the loss of his over-adrenalization, but at least they were out of the woods now and instead they were running along a vast and empty field that looked well-groomed from the constant grazing it received.
“Wait, Tahoe. She's not following.”
Zeppelin's voice was dry and airy. Lo and behold, Tahoe could not feel her familiar vibrations just behind him. Zeppelin skidded to a stop and almost toppled over, and Tahoe almost crashed into her. They stood together with hands on knees, breathing deeply and glancing suspiciously about them. It was quite some time before either of them could talk, but Tahoe was the first to speak,
“It hurt.”
Zeppelin noticeably swallowed a mouthful of saliva and nodded before replying,
“I've thought about that. I think that the pain is part of the hallucination, completely manufactured by the chemicals that go to our nerve endings- they say pain is in the mind. What if the substance altered our nerve perception- what we see becomes what we feel. Even if we know it's not real. I'm no scientist, but it makes sense.”
Tahoe stood straight once more, but said nothing. Zeppelin continued,
“Truth be told, I was planning to outrun you. But then those wildflowers started to bite and I figured that even if I outran you, something else would have eventually found me. You can't escape your own brain.”
At her admitted treachery, Tahoe whirled on her with a rare glare that was usually reserved for his brother when he was being an ass. She would have left him in the dust to get eaten, and Tahoe would have defended her if she had gotten caught. He wouldn't make the mistake of trusting her again, that was for sure.
“What? Most people would do the same. I'm not evil, just practical. Besides, I couldn't shift- so I couldn't run any faster than I was already running. It gave me some time to think… I believe the only way to get out of this nightmare is to go to sleep.”
It made perfect sense, but it wasn't a guarantee- and how would they even be able to try in their condition? Zeppelin seemed to be reading his mind, because she instantly reassured him,
“We could try, all this running has worn me out. And I can usually go to sleep in any situation, maybe you can too. Either way, I'm going to try; you're welcome to join me.”
“Where?”
“We'll make a shelter, we seem to be passing through a clear wave; everything looks normal enough. I'm going to take advantage of it. Now, if you would be so kind as to get a long and thick branch for me, I'd greatly appreciate it.”
She was right, though Tahoe hadn't noticed until she pointed it out. The grass was green, the sky was blue, and all colors were rightfully restored to where they belonged. Zeppelin was already marching off into the field to do god knows what, so Tahoe did as she bid; he wasn't a prideful man, and he wouldn't challenge that she was the brains of this operation. He would be the muscle, but he wasn't quite up to par with his usual imposing self at the moment. He scanned the now-still trees for his quarry and found it quickly. Autumn winds usually brought down dying widow-makers, so they were lucky in that aspect. He made his way to the branch and hauled it up easily over one shoulder; it was much longer than his body and thick enough to do, he supposed. Tahoe and his branch made their way back to Zeppelin who had gathered a rather impressive armload of long sticks in such a short amount of time.
“That's perfect. Lean it up against that big rock over there with the thin side toward the sky.”
And so he did. She began to place the sticks against each side of the large branch and sent him off for longer sticks when she passed the middle. When they were done in rather record time- given their need for haste- Zeppelin began to pack mud and grass onto the sticks. The mud bled between the sticks and fastened them to the branch. The finished product was a long and hastily put together lean-to, but it was sturdy enough to work and cut off enough daylight for them to take a nap.
“I hope this works.”
Said Tahoe with his hands on his hips, studying their handiwork. Zeppelin pointed to the sky and he followed her finger westward where he saw a quickly-rolling cloud of gray. Tahoe groaned and threw his head back in exasperation,
“Why didn't we just find a cave?”
“Because a cave would take too long to find, and we'd be right back where we were. At least out here, there's very little to hallucinate about.”
“The roof will leak.”
“Sleep on your belly.”
“I'll get dirt in my mouth.”
“You're pretty whiny for a grown man.”
That shut Tahoe up. She was right. He was complaining when he should be grateful that they had a plan at all. Hell, maybe if it hadn't been for her, he'd still be running around. And maybe if it weren't for him, she would have already been safe and dry in a cave, or with her group. A wave of guilt rolled over Tahoe and he silently slipped into their temporary hut to lay down on his belly like she'd suggested. She climbed in shortly after and true to her word, she was snoring softly in a short amount of time while he maintained his wakefulness. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, but the familiar tornado of feeling was washing over him just as a gentle tide of thunder boomed lazily above their heads. Panic and fear clawed their way back up his throat, but he beat the emotions off with much more success than the last few times he'd tried. Maybe he was already getting the hang of this.
From what he knew, hallucinogens were supposed to be fun, or else people wouldn't take them. But this wasn't fun- and the way Zeppelin had pointed out the physical aspects of it made him assume that it was far from normal. And Tahoe had never heard of any sort of plant that naturally released such potent fumes; maybe they existed in the far corners of the Amazon. But if they did exist, it would beg the question of how they got into the dome. Unless it wasn't a natural occurrence at all.
Tahoe had only been taken to the labs once when they morphed him and other than that, he'd been left alone for the most part. It was just a guess, but he thought that maybe they didn't want to damage him too much. After all, his shift was unseen as far as he knew- here, at least. So, he had a rare shift. Physically, he was large and healthy; no need to screw that up. Mentally, he was sound and he didn't cause trouble, so he didn't stick out. Perhaps the keepers finally took notice of him and decided to start screwing with him after two years of leaving him in relative peace. This drug may have been some sort of air born experiment- maybe a biological weapon that was convenient to test on them. Tahoe's thoughts were coming to him as fast and sharp as if he were sober once more, but he dared not open his eyes to test the theory out. Rain began to patter against their thatched roof and sure enough a few droplets began to fall against various parts of his body. At least it would keep the majority of the rain off. Tahoe contemplated waking Zeppelin up to discuss his ideas, but he had the distinct impression that she would not be pleased if he roused her unless it was absolutely necessary.
Against his better judgment, he opened his eyes and turned his face towards her. There was no color again, and he briefly wondered what exactly prompted his mind to empty the world of all vivacity. Shockingly, one color did remain despite everything else being black-and-white; the red color of Zeppelin's tattoos stood out. It wasn't a bright cherry red, nor a warm apple, but a deep rustic red- like blood. That's when he realized that he wasn't looking just at her tattoos, but actual blood seeping through her skin where her tattoo was. A lump formed in his throat. She didn't seem to be in pain, and was snoring contentedly in her deep slumber; he knew it was a trick of the mind. It had to be. Unless she was actually bleeding, that somehow the keepers had found some impossible way to remotely injure people. That was a far-fetched idea, but as Zeppelin had said: the world is full of possibilities, no matter the actual probability. Or something along those lines.
He knew that he should wake her just to be on the safe side, but at the same time he knew that she was not actually hurt- though his thundering heart would disagree. The healer inside of him was impulsive; it wanted him to knit together he flesh and stop the loss of precious life-liquid. He had the sudden urge to take out the bone-knife in his tattered pocket and cut open her arm to make sure nothing was lodged into the muscle. There was no logic or reason behind the impulse, just a strong desire- no… a need almost impossible to ignore. His hand clenched into a fist and he stared at the girl with wide and disbelieving eyes. If he started cutting, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop; like he was possessed by some mad surgeon's soul. It was the most frightening thing that he could imagine- murdering somebody, hurting them, doing nothing while their life dwindled away and him being perfectly capable of helping. Everything that he truly feared in this world was rolled up into one peacefully slumbering woman. Without hesitation, he shook Zeppelin's shoulder and pulled his blood-soaked palm away when she groaned and rolled onto her back to crack her eyes at him,
“This better be good.”
Her voice was heavy with sleep and her tone was scornful, but he replied with absolute conviction,
“Something is wrong with us. You're bleeding, and I need to cut you.”
Understandably, she rose onto her elbows and drew the sharp hatchet from a belt loop,
“Explain.”
She growled.
“I don't want to hurt you, but I have the need to- it doesn't make sense, but it's like I'm starving and a piece of steak is being waved in my face.”
Zeppelin began to scoot out and away from him, but Tahoe held up a hand to halt her,
“No, you're safe here, don't go back out there. If I leave, I'm afraid that I'll come back and do it. The safest thing is to stay awake and watch me, I think. Keep your blade out- kill me if I try anything. Just… I don't know what is happening. I think I have a good idea, though.”
They stared at one another for a long while before Zeppelin seemed to agree with his conclusion and slipped back into the hut. She kneeled now instead of laying down, Tahoe himself was much too big to do the same. All he could do was lay there and swallow back the urge to attack her; it was easier when she had a frozen pendulum ready to swing at a moment's notice over his neck, and he had no doubt that she would not hesitate to strike him down quicker than he could move.
“What's this idea, then?”
She said quite suddenly. Tahoe noticed a steady rain drop hitting her on the shoulder. He breathed deeply,
“I think the keepers poisoned us. Don't ask me why, or how, but they did. They're running a test of some sort- happens all the time. It only happened to me once, not too long ago, when they changed me.”
“I've been meaning to ask you about that. I assumed I was hallucinating.”
“No, I've really got a tail and everything. They mess with your DNA and take away your shift so that you're always half man and half beast.”
“So, you think they gassed us somehow, and they're watching us?”
“Yeah, I think so. I met a few people when I first got here that have been taken into the labs for drug tests. Hallucinogens, mostly. One of them thought they wanted to use it on a large population; possibly on rebel groups. Makes you go crazy most of the time, changes people.”
Zeppelin tucked some hair behind her ear and looked guiltily at him through her lashes,
“And ah… did these people say how it was given to them?”
“Needles, gas, food, IVs, every which way.”
“Gas, huh?”
She chewed her lip and remained silent while she thought about what Tahoe had revealed, and just when he thought that their conversation was over she spoke up once more,
“I think that may have happened to me, then. This whole time I wasn't sure if it was real...”
Tahoe's blood lust began to increase to a noticeable level, he didn't want to just cut her anymore but he wanted to disassemble her. He wanted to see her organs and muscles underneath that oh-so-thin layer of skin. He licked his dry lips and shook his head to clear the stray and intrusive impulses from his head,
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don't really want to talk about it.”
Tahoe's thoughts blanked out, and he had the distinct impression of not being connected at all to the movements of his body and the command of his brain. He felt his chest vibrate with the low baritone of a dark voice that he'd never before uttered,
“Help me take my mind off of what your heart looks like in my hand.”
The voice itself was not threatening, but almost soothing and steady in its darkness. The words themselves were full of promise and danger. Zeppelin straightened up and brought the blade of the axe closer to his neck, practically kissing his adam's apple.
“Careful, or else I may want to see how your vocal chords can make such nice sounds.”
Her threat was as level as his, her voice dripping venom and confidence. Tahoe's body chuckled at the challenge, but his heart was reeling as he fought to take back control of himself. It was horrible, much worse than anything else that had happened throughout the day. There is no feeling quite like loosing control of everything so thoroughly that you can't even control your basic bodily functions.
Zeppelin didn't seem as fazed by him as she should have been under normal circumstances, and instead matched his morbid curiosity with her tale. She told him everything, weaving words and descriptions as only a practiced story-teller could do. By the time she was done, color had once again bled into his eyes and he was once more completely inside of his body,
“So let me get this straight- You thought that you'd lived in the labs for more than fifty years, died, and was brought back into a parallel but similar universe where God wanted you to try again. And this whole time you thought you were being stalked by Him?”
She nodded her head in confirmation, and Tahoe couldn't help but let a huge grin splatter his face.
“So, earlier, when you thought you were chasing God, what exactly were you going to do?”
“Open his throat.”
Tahoe spat out a bark of laughter at her, and her frown deepened,
“That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. How did you fall for that? And how were you planning on killing an all-powerful and immortal being?”
Zeppelin's back straightened and her nostrils flared,
“Don't laugh at me. It all felt so… real. It all actually happened; maybe that's just how powerful the drug was. We don't have any grasp on how the other world works- they can try all they like, but they'll never know. Who's to say what is and isn't possible? And who's to say that God can't be killed if he exists?”
“You have a point. And if I hadn't met a few people who went through similar experiences, I might actually believe you. You're pretty convincing. All you needed this whole time was reassurance, I think.”
“That's very reassuring to know. You can't really tell right now, but on the inside I'm having a little bit of a second existential crisis. It's a little overwhelming at the moment, given the circumstances.”
Tahoe sobered into a straight face while the black and white began to come back along with his new-found hunger and the detachment that went along with it.
“How are you feeling?”
She asked with a hint of concern when his face gained an expression of almost manic happiness,
“Like I want to peel off your skin and filet the muscles from your bones. How are you feeling?”
He heard himself say casually. To her credit, Zeppelin didn't bat an eyelash at him- didn't take the bait either, much to his disappointment.
“I feel like I want to get the hell away from you. Other than that, I'm actually starting to feel normal again. I have a theory here.”
She tossed her waist-length hair over her shoulder and gestured to herself,
“Since I've had previous exposure to this, or something like this, I may have a shorter fuse than you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, and I honestly can't help but feel a little too close to you- but if I leave, you'll probably try to find me. You may even get to me before it wears off.”
“That sounds fun. We should try it. You go ahead and run off, I'll catch up.”
He grinned at her with his massive fangs flashing cockily at her, his voice cheerful and full of childish excitement.
“I've a better idea. Since it would be perilous to your health to leave this place, you just stay here- I'll go my way. Maybe I'll catch you around and see if you're a little less murdery when you're sober.”
Tahoe's voice was cooing now, as if she were an ignorant child and he was the wise adult,
“That's a great idea, Zeppelin. You just run along now. I'll… catch you around.”
Zeppelin rose up on her knees and Tahoe's possessed mind was planning on giving her a five minute head-start. She would have gotten a longer one but she was just too quick to allow. To his surprise and his relief, Zeppelin struck him in the temple with the heavy butt of her axe- she was too quick for him to react any other way than promptly passing out. He heard her backing out into the downpour right before loosing consciousness.
Zeppelin- red
He'd been running for hours now, though it didn't seem to matter; no matter how far or how fast his legs carried him, it was always a few paces away. He didn't know exactly what it was, had no clue where it came from- couldn't even remember at what point it started chasing him… or why.
The soles of Tahoe's feet were burning now from a combination of skin-to-ground pounding and the massive amounts of vibrations being produced from every moving thing in the area around him. The wind blowing through the trees shook the birds and the squirrels from the branches, his movements made the bugs before him scatter and twigs underneath him snap. Gooseflesh was raised on the back of his neck and his heart was pounding beyond that of his raised blood pressure while terror continuously eked into his nerves. He'd been going for so long now without an end in sight, without a break from the massive anxiety clogging his mind- ripping at any shred of hope or morale that could have existed within him.
There was a change quite suddenly, a shift in the flow of the endless circuit. A shadow grew beyond his racing body, an ink-like blackness bleeding into the soil of the forest; it rolled outwards and sideways until it covered the entirety of the forest floor. Fallen pine needles dripped ichor, inconspicuous stones were slick with ebony goo, twigs and branches bowed beneath the heavy tar that blanketed them. What he saw was impossible, realistically improbable. Organic things didn't just get overcome with unknown matter- almost like the black goop was a conscious animal in itself that purposefully covered everything based on some whim or instinct.
“F***!”
He shouted, hopping over a rather ominous-looking pile of leaves. Tahoe wasn't inclined to cursing or unkind language, but under the current circumstance his usual polite filter was gone. When he came back down, his feet landed heavily in the thick sludge with a wet splashing sound. His calves were covered in the slime now, and the flesh of his feet was completely covered. Tahoe tried to lift his right foot in order to continue his escape, but there was resistance. His left foot met the same fate of sluggishness, still moving yet halting in its advancement.
“No, no, no.”
Tahoe's voice was rising as did his already extreme levels of panic. The beast was just behind him now, slower in its movements. The anthromorph knew that the monster was not slowed by the muck and instead moved with a precision and agility that could only come from being in familiar surroundings- he didn't know how he knew it, maybe it was on a based subconscious level. He was reverting back into the most primal of mindsets, exercised and known well throughout earth's history; prey.
Contrary to his own nature, Tahoe planted his feet firmly apart as best as he could in the slick grime and stretched his muscle-strewn arms out to his sides with his long fingers bent to ready his black claws. His cast his wide eyes about in a frenzy to search the shadows of the forest for the creature stalking him, but it was not there. If this had been an ordinary enemy, Tahoe would have scared it off already- or talked it down, or ran back to Nakoma. But this was no everyday denizen of the dome, and it was highly suspect that it was even a creature of this mortal realm. As it was, this was a kill or die situation and Tahoe had never been so frightened in his life. There was something distinctly evil about it although he had not seen it. Not metaphorically evil, but in a literal sense. Its mere presence warped his very soul and set his teeth grinding with the feeling of being utterly doomed beyond more than the physical sense.
Movement to the right made him whip his tail and gnash his great needle-pointed teeth at the empty air. There was a second, no, half of a millisecond in which the scene before him disappeared and was replaced by the quiet forest of ordinary life. It was so sudden and so quick that Tahoe was sure that it was wishful imagining.
“What do you want?!”
He shouted into the trees once more shadowed by the gray tones of the tainted air. All was silent except for Tahoe's heavy breathing and the sound of his heartbeat like a war drum in his ears. No birds sang, no wind moved, no vibrations alerted his muck-covered feet. Seventeen heartbeats passed before Tahoe had an answer. Breathing, heavy and labored. It was to his back. He whipped around and faced off against a wisp of smoke ten paces away. It blended into the ashen trees and the charcoal leaves, barely a collection of smoke amongst the gray backdrop. The smoke was breathing deeply but otherwise stayed still.
“What do you want?!”
He repeated, his voice lower and more menacing-a threat. One that he couldn't possibly hope to deliver upon nothing but the idea of a nightmare. If he touched it at all, he knew that he would just pass right through unless the wisp wished it otherwise. He had no power to demand answers here in the dark creature's domain, it had the power and the authority although it was miniscule and unassuming. Something lurked within it, something that mirrored the opening of the void itself- a passage to true and unimaginable suffering.
“I want you to stop running.”
The voice was distinctly female with a strange accent and echoed around him rather than from the small pillar of mist just beyond his reach. A voice like a secret that conjured to mind images of obtuse fog and curling fingers of turgid heat. He lifted his head a little higher than was necessary and opened his jaw wide to deliver a crocodillian hiss to the beast; he'd never done that before, and didn't know that he could do it. What was happening to him?
The wisp drifted a little closer to him as if cautious, but Tahoe was not fooled by its innocuous demeanor when he could still feel the darkness leaking from it like a squeezed sponge,
“Why are you running? You're the one that keeps calling for me.”
He had no idea what she was talking about; he would never call on such a malevolent thing as her. A string of mist extended from the main body of smoke and Tahoe instantly recoiled from the touch, his great show of aggression forgotten in the face of the terrorist coming so close to touching him. He was sure that a connection would mean his demise, that all of the goodness and beauty of this world would be sucked away from him like a straw in a drink- happiness would never again exist. And finally when he left this world, his eternal soul would be forever cast into the pits of pain and horror for all of eternity. No escape, no reprieve, just endless pain- forever.
The wisp slowly retracted its ghostly arm and instead floated around him in a circle like a wolf to the lamb,
“Who are you?”
The echoing voice was cast into a whisper. Tahoe bit his bottom lip and felt the familiar prick of his teeth against flesh that drew fresh pearls of blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw a confusing myriad of patterns and colors against his eyelids that only increased his fear, so he opened his eyes again and followed the circling wisp with them,
“God. That's what everybody else calls you- but I don't think you are. Everything that's happened- it can't be real. You can't be real.”
Tahoe had no idea what she was talking about, but the theoretics were beginning to jumble his sharp thoughts into piles of hastily assorted words and ideas.
“I am real...”
He croaked weakly. The top of the wisp cocked itself to the side in a human manner, almost like a head tilting in consideration.
“It's you. You aren't real.”
Anger filled the space between them by physically manifesting into the color of dull red splashing their surroundings. The thing laughed humorlessly,
“That's funny. I know that you're the one that's supposed to dictate reality and all of that good stuff, but I would argue that any conscious form would be real. A thought, a feeling- nothing you can touch. Since I am these things within a skin-bag, I would consider myself very real. It's you that I'm questioning. I don't know if you have thoughts and feelings, you may just be a trick of the mind. Or a dream. Prove it, tell me something that would constitute the truth of your existence.”
The wisp stood completely still now and waited on Tahoe's answer. He didn't quite know what to say to her sudden bombardment of ideas and demands. Her tone hadn't risen past a calm level, but something in the voice commanded that he speak or be eliminated.
“I..”
His voice trembled and she laughed again, a cruel and mocking sound,
“You're shaking like a leaf. Am I really so terrifying? After all, you are much bigger than I am. If you're supposed to be God, maybe I'm the devil to have you so scared.”
Tahoe's eyes narrowed and he locked onto that one statement out of everything. She was the devil. There was no other explanation for any of this.
“You're not real.”
He said quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut once more and brought his fists up to the side of his head to try and banish the dizzying pictures behind his eyelids. Satan was standing only feet from him. Not some goat-hoofed beast with great horns and fire for eyes, not some viciously mad ghoul from the underworld, but a small flicker of smoke and death and hopelessness debating the definitions of reality.
“We've already established that I've real. We haven't established that you are. You just keep repeating yourself like some sort of robot- which you might be, now that I think of it… possibilities are endless no matter the improbability.”
Tahoe opened his eyes once more and felt a sudden compulsion to fight for his eternal soul. She was evil incarnate, and she was playing tricks on him; eventually she would get bored and obliterate him. Lucifer did not offer mercy, second chances, or reward for cooperation. Really, he had nothing to lose.
“I am Tahoe.”
He stated plainly as he rose to his full height over the tiny thing. She floated back a small step and ignited a feeling of victory within Tahoe's breast.
“Begone, devil. You have no power here.”
He snarled and made to jump at her, but she slipped easily to his side in a slow dodge with a light giggle chiming musically through the air,
“Not the smartest thing, are you- tin man?”
He snarled again and reached for her with his claws extended, but again she slipped easily away.
“You're actually slow, as well. I wonder if your body operates at the same speed as your brain. Must be some malfunction in your programming. I wonder, if I open you up, will I find blood or sparks?”
Her voice rose higher in a show of amusement, yet Tahoe kept coming at her. He was moving as fast as he could, which was very fast indeed. She must have been warping time or… physics… or whatever made people fast and slow. He saw his arms moving and leaving trails of color behind, it was amazing and beautiful and for just a moment he forgot the devil and his fear- all he focused on was the beautiful rainbow that he made in the air.
“Ow!”
He looked at his hand when he felt the sting of a fine cut open his flesh and introduce his thick blood into the world.
“I suppose you are a man.”
He stared at the wisp once more, coming fully back to his senses.
“In that case, Tahoe- something is very wrong with you. It appears that there is something very wrong with me, as well.”
The wisp approached him once more and quickly pushed him to the ground with her extended smoke-arms. She was tiny, but he went down easily and gracelessly onto his rump- now he was coated in demonic ichor all on his backside.
“Bear with me here, turtle. Do you really think I'm the devil?”
“Yes.”
“Interestingly enough, I'm not. At least, I don't think I am. Unless I'm living inside of some sort of disfigured reality while acting in another. But that's all a little complex for you; suffice it to say that I was born as a shifter, and have always been a shifter for as long as my conscious mind can remember. I have a mother, father, three siblings, a best friend, a cat, a few dogs, a few horses, a snake, and a menagerie of other loved ones and acquaintances. So you see, I'm not the devil. Technically speaking.”
Her words were dizzying, and it was becoming very hard to keep track of the things she was saying in relation to everything else that came before it. Tahoe forced himself out of his dim confusion by gritting his teeth and opening his eyes wider, using pictures in his mind to connect to the words echoing around him. He was going crazy, he had to be- the situation and the feelings and the warping were so alien as to be completely inconceivable to a sane and steady mind. Tahoe wondered briefly what had happened to cause the loss of his sanity but he quickly forgot the thought when she next asked him a direct question that he could answer.
“What do you see? Explain how the area looks, how I look to you.”
Okay. He could do that. Tahoe still wasn't sure whether this was Satan playing him or if he had gone insane, but there was nothing much he could do right now besides run. And he was so tired of running.
He lifted his hand from the ground and presented it to the wisp,
“There's black ink everywhere. On my feet, my legs, my hands...”
He gestured around them,
“The trees are gray and covered in shadows like all the color has been drained from the world.”
He pointed at her,
“You're a ball of smoke with a voice that echos.”
Said ball of smoke said nothing for several minutes, and Tahoe stared at her expectantly. To sprout lies or the truth, he knew not. Finally, she seemed to come to some conclusion which was indicated by a breathy sigh,
“Quite the opposite for me. The trees are gold, the ground is covered in snow, and you look like a very big man-alligator with starlight coming from your eyes.”
Well.
“I knew something was wrong when the snow wasn't cold. I'd never seen snow before, not in person, but I know it's supposed to be unbearably freezing. I have a guess here...”
The wisp floated down toward the ground to meet Tahoe's eyes evenly.
“If I were a gambling woman, I'd place money on the possibility that we're both hallucinating.”
But, why would he be hallucinating? And how would two people be hallucinating at once? He'd never done it before, so he wasn't completely sure on how tricks of the mind worked; she could be telling him the truth or she could be lying.
“Prove it.”
He whispered with a little fear tinging his voice. She sighed again,
“Close your eyes.”
Suspicious but curious and no longer quite as afraid, he did as she instructed,
“Clear your mind of all thoughts, picture nothing- tune out the world. Focus on your breathing, feel it and nothing else.”
“There's shapes behind my eyelids.”
“Cover them up with a black blanket. You can do it.”
Tahoe concentrated on his breathing first. In, out, in out. He ignored the feeling on being inside his body, which was much easier than it sounded. Once he had that down, he covered his mind with a blanket of onyx. In, out, in, out. It was just him-nothing existed.
“Tahoe, wake up.”
His eyes snapped open and his vision filled suddenly with the browns, yellows, and reds of the autumn forest. The smell of crisp wind was in his nose, the sound of a woodpecker hard at work somewhere near, and a girl crouched before him.
“Can you see me now?”
He nodded dumbly and rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't imagining anything.
“Good. Now, listen closely because this won't last long. We must have walked through some sort of strange hallucinogenic cloud, probably airborne through plants or something. Or it may have been in the water- point is, we're both tripping. It's pretty suspicious, and I don't know if it's harmful or not, so we should stick close. We're both too vulnerable to be running around. I suggest we hide under that slate overhang and ride it out. When we're sober again, I assume you'll try to murder me, so we'll deal with that in the morning, I guess. For now, you just look scary- I'll do the rest. Deal?”
What else could he do but agree? The girl was silent as she looked him up and down with a thoughtful expression,
“You may be slow, and kinda weird looking, but you sure are a pretty thing. My momma always said that pretty don't ride, and it sure don't last. I suggest you take this opportunity to hone your critical thinking skills, otherwise you'll be up s*** creek in ten years.”
She stood up and looked around before heading towards the aforementioned slate shelter without any sort of indication that she'd said anything offensive or otherwise to him. Tahoe's vision began to waver from reality back to the color-drained world of his imagination, but at least now he knew that it wasn't real and therefore he wasn't scared. That is, until the feeling that something terrible was about to happen filled him once more. Funny how anxiety can cripple an otherwise sane and stable person, funnier still how altered states of mind seemed to magnetize and exaggerate emotions until they filled one up completely and dominated the spirit. His eyes once more saw the muted grays of the forest, but now they were less menacing and gave off the impression of ageless elegance, like a black-and-white photo rather than the shadows of a horror film.
He slowly got to his feet and made his way to the girl now sitting cross-legged under the watchful stone and he found that his soles no longer suctioned into the black muck of the ground and instead he walked upon it naturally. His body descended into a cross-legged position astride the girl, now no longer a wisp but a color-drained version of herself.
“It's strange, well, stranger than you would imagine the original situation to be. I'm not usually this talkative. I can't seem to stop talking, actually. I'm starting to annoy myself.”
She glanced up at him, and he felt that she was expecting him to reply, as social customs dictated.
“I um...”
He got lost for a second in her black eyes when he took notice of them, like the deepest pit of secrets- mainly, he was distracted by the way his reflection caught in them and began to swirl around and around like a spinning top. He must have gotten too close to her face for comfort trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at because she shoved his shoulders quite suddenly and like a leaf in the wind, he toppled onto his back from the sheer force of the action.
“Are we going to have a problem?”
Her voice was venom and he tried to sit up to apologize but he was hampered by the wicked blade of a hatchet waiting to greet him upon arising. He went cross-eyed from staring at the point hovering just in front of his nose,
“No, I'm sorry- I wasn't trying to scare you, you're eyes were doing something weird and I was trying to look and see and I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me.”
She left the axe hovering before him for a few more seconds, which seemed much longer in his altered head; eventually she pulled away and he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Well, at least now I got you talking. What's the point of being so big when you get scared so easily?”
“I don't… usually. I guess I'm just in a weird place right now.”
“Do you also usually try to kiss strangers? That's dangerous here, you should really stop doing that.”
“I wasn't trying to kiss you! I wouldn't do that!”
“Are you saying that I'm not pretty enough to kiss?”
“No! You are! I just-”
She let loose a full-bellied laugh at his stuttering defense,
“I'm just f***ing with you.”
She slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and he flinched, to which she laughed some more. Tahoe didn't complain or comment and instead looked at the ground. Normally, he tolerated being made fun of- he was used to it. Sticks and stones, as they say. But now, he was beginning to get irritated at the brash girl that circumstances had thrust him with- annoyance simmered just on the brink of becoming something stronger but she quickly deflated him,
“Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me.”
She scratched her head and shrugged,
“I promise I don't usually act so casually with strangers, nor am I ever this happy. It's a little frightening, to be honest. Personality morphing doesn't usually happen with things like this.”
Tahoe mustered up a fake smile for her, only because he couldn't find a real one in his usually brimming arsenal. It was meant to be reassuring, but he knew it looked more like a grimace.
“It's okay, I don't feel myself, either. I promise I'm usually nicer.”
He stuck out his hand for her to shake, a proper introduction and apology all in one. She stared at it long and hard enough for Tahoe to second-guess himself and begin to withdraw but she lashed out lightning-fast and grasped his forearm. Her hands were quite tiny, he noticed. It was rare that a person could get a good grip on any part of his arm, but her palm barely held onto half of the inside of it. He was confused for a moment and his fist assumption was that she was about to cut the appendage off, but she stared into his eyes with conviction and neutrality- no malice to be found in her expression. Tahoe grabbed her tattooed forearm as well, easily circling it with his entire hand,
“I'm Zeppelin.”
An odd name, but who was he to judge? An odd handshake as well, but strangely satisfying- it gave the impression of equality rather than the subtle battle for dominance that a handshake provided. They let go of one another and some of the tension eased out of Tahoe, a sense of safety among the panic still mysteriously eating away inside of him. They sat in silence for awhile and just stared at one another, not in any form of romantic way- just studying features and oddities. The substance inside of them allowed the two to bypass social taboos for some unknown reason, and it also gave the impression that they could feel each others' energies, though Tahoe was loath to acknowledge that it may not be an imagined ability. Zeppelin was the one to break the almost meditative silence when her eyes widened and she whispered,
“Turn around slowly and tell me that I'm seeing things.”
Uh-oh.
Tahoe inhaled deeply and did as she directed to find that she was not imagining anything- there was really a very large bear lumbering towards them.
“Just stay still and he may not see us.”
Tahoe whispered without looking at her.
“He? That's definitely a girl.”
“I'm not going to ask how you know that.”
“Because she has boobs?”
“Wait. I'm looking at a bear, what do you see?”
“A human. Well, more or less. She's just standing there.”
“So is the bear. Nope, now he's moving toward us.”
“Regardless of what we see, there may actually be something coming towards us that is neither.”
“What do we do?”
“Run.”
Both of them got up simultaneously and scurried away, two bodies now pounding the black muck to escape the unknown-bear-human-whatever thing that may or may not exist. Just like before, Tahoe felt something following him. He could not see or hear it, but he could feel it in his feet.
“Oh s***, what is that?!”
Zeppelin glanced behind them and caught a bust of speed to get farther away from whatever she saw. Tahoe's heart was pounding hard in his chest. The gray trees around him were shifting in his peripherals unnaturally, and they began once more to blend into ominous shadows. He couldn't explain exactly what it was, but something about the trees filled him with paranoia. The mysterious emotion was confirmed when a skinny young tree bent in a sprightly fashion and reached for him with branches grasping like arms. He shrieked and dodged it, nearly knocking into the much smaller girl with him. Intellectually, he knew that it was a figment of his mind; but instinctively and emotionally, his nerves were reacting just as an animal would. He kept trying to tell himself that it wasn't real, but more trees attempted to grab at him and the mantra could do nothing against induced base terror and reactionary impulse. He could no more stand still and see what became of him than he could turn into a bird and fly away.
He looked at Zeppelin farther ahead who was much faster than him and found that she was practically pushing off of the trees with her hands in order to keep her feet from touching the ground as much as possible, her head was bent to watch her foot falls despite the speed in which they made impact. Finally they broke the tree line and came upon a small meadow of wild-flowers, a respite from the groping trees. Zeppelin sprung into the safety of the tall grass and sprawling wildflowers and let loose a string of loud curses. Tahoe slowed down and studied the way the girl jumped as if playing hop-scotch, though he couldn't see what was harassing her from the way the grass reached past her hips. He couldn't run around the tree-line because there were trees, and he needed to get away from the things that were still following them, so he went in after Zeppelin but instantly regretted his decision. At least he could dodge the trees; he couldn't get away from carnivorous plants. He could tell himself that he was imagining things again and let the grass bite him, because things you imagined couldn't physically hurt you. Except that the grass- adorned with tiny mouths filled with razor-teeth fixed to the top of each blade- did hurt. Every time one bit him, which was quite a lot, it hurt tremendously. It felt as if he were being quickly eaten by a pack of minuscule dogs, the stinging bearing greater pain with the sheer number of bites. They had to get out of the clearing as quickly as possible. Zeppelin was almost to the end, but Tahoe was in the middle of it.
He made no noise, though he wanted to scream- instead he saved his breath and galloped through as if his life depended on it.
Zeppelin dashed into the forest once more and he followed. A tree hit his shoulder with a snap of its thick limb and it felt as if somebody had actually punched him. If they could be hurt by hallucinations, what would that thing behind them do once it caught up?
Tahoe lost track of time, but they'd been running long enough for his entire body to ache with the loss of his over-adrenalization, but at least they were out of the woods now and instead they were running along a vast and empty field that looked well-groomed from the constant grazing it received.
“Wait, Tahoe. She's not following.”
Zeppelin's voice was dry and airy. Lo and behold, Tahoe could not feel her familiar vibrations just behind him. Zeppelin skidded to a stop and almost toppled over, and Tahoe almost crashed into her. They stood together with hands on knees, breathing deeply and glancing suspiciously about them. It was quite some time before either of them could talk, but Tahoe was the first to speak,
“It hurt.”
Zeppelin noticeably swallowed a mouthful of saliva and nodded before replying,
“I've thought about that. I think that the pain is part of the hallucination, completely manufactured by the chemicals that go to our nerve endings- they say pain is in the mind. What if the substance altered our nerve perception- what we see becomes what we feel. Even if we know it's not real. I'm no scientist, but it makes sense.”
Tahoe stood straight once more, but said nothing. Zeppelin continued,
“Truth be told, I was planning to outrun you. But then those wildflowers started to bite and I figured that even if I outran you, something else would have eventually found me. You can't escape your own brain.”
At her admitted treachery, Tahoe whirled on her with a rare glare that was usually reserved for his brother when he was being an ass. She would have left him in the dust to get eaten, and Tahoe would have defended her if she had gotten caught. He wouldn't make the mistake of trusting her again, that was for sure.
“What? Most people would do the same. I'm not evil, just practical. Besides, I couldn't shift- so I couldn't run any faster than I was already running. It gave me some time to think… I believe the only way to get out of this nightmare is to go to sleep.”
It made perfect sense, but it wasn't a guarantee- and how would they even be able to try in their condition? Zeppelin seemed to be reading his mind, because she instantly reassured him,
“We could try, all this running has worn me out. And I can usually go to sleep in any situation, maybe you can too. Either way, I'm going to try; you're welcome to join me.”
“Where?”
“We'll make a shelter, we seem to be passing through a clear wave; everything looks normal enough. I'm going to take advantage of it. Now, if you would be so kind as to get a long and thick branch for me, I'd greatly appreciate it.”
She was right, though Tahoe hadn't noticed until she pointed it out. The grass was green, the sky was blue, and all colors were rightfully restored to where they belonged. Zeppelin was already marching off into the field to do god knows what, so Tahoe did as she bid; he wasn't a prideful man, and he wouldn't challenge that she was the brains of this operation. He would be the muscle, but he wasn't quite up to par with his usual imposing self at the moment. He scanned the now-still trees for his quarry and found it quickly. Autumn winds usually brought down dying widow-makers, so they were lucky in that aspect. He made his way to the branch and hauled it up easily over one shoulder; it was much longer than his body and thick enough to do, he supposed. Tahoe and his branch made their way back to Zeppelin who had gathered a rather impressive armload of long sticks in such a short amount of time.
“That's perfect. Lean it up against that big rock over there with the thin side toward the sky.”
And so he did. She began to place the sticks against each side of the large branch and sent him off for longer sticks when she passed the middle. When they were done in rather record time- given their need for haste- Zeppelin began to pack mud and grass onto the sticks. The mud bled between the sticks and fastened them to the branch. The finished product was a long and hastily put together lean-to, but it was sturdy enough to work and cut off enough daylight for them to take a nap.
“I hope this works.”
Said Tahoe with his hands on his hips, studying their handiwork. Zeppelin pointed to the sky and he followed her finger westward where he saw a quickly-rolling cloud of gray. Tahoe groaned and threw his head back in exasperation,
“Why didn't we just find a cave?”
“Because a cave would take too long to find, and we'd be right back where we were. At least out here, there's very little to hallucinate about.”
“The roof will leak.”
“Sleep on your belly.”
“I'll get dirt in my mouth.”
“You're pretty whiny for a grown man.”
That shut Tahoe up. She was right. He was complaining when he should be grateful that they had a plan at all. Hell, maybe if it hadn't been for her, he'd still be running around. And maybe if it weren't for him, she would have already been safe and dry in a cave, or with her group. A wave of guilt rolled over Tahoe and he silently slipped into their temporary hut to lay down on his belly like she'd suggested. She climbed in shortly after and true to her word, she was snoring softly in a short amount of time while he maintained his wakefulness. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, but the familiar tornado of feeling was washing over him just as a gentle tide of thunder boomed lazily above their heads. Panic and fear clawed their way back up his throat, but he beat the emotions off with much more success than the last few times he'd tried. Maybe he was already getting the hang of this.
From what he knew, hallucinogens were supposed to be fun, or else people wouldn't take them. But this wasn't fun- and the way Zeppelin had pointed out the physical aspects of it made him assume that it was far from normal. And Tahoe had never heard of any sort of plant that naturally released such potent fumes; maybe they existed in the far corners of the Amazon. But if they did exist, it would beg the question of how they got into the dome. Unless it wasn't a natural occurrence at all.
Tahoe had only been taken to the labs once when they morphed him and other than that, he'd been left alone for the most part. It was just a guess, but he thought that maybe they didn't want to damage him too much. After all, his shift was unseen as far as he knew- here, at least. So, he had a rare shift. Physically, he was large and healthy; no need to screw that up. Mentally, he was sound and he didn't cause trouble, so he didn't stick out. Perhaps the keepers finally took notice of him and decided to start screwing with him after two years of leaving him in relative peace. This drug may have been some sort of air born experiment- maybe a biological weapon that was convenient to test on them. Tahoe's thoughts were coming to him as fast and sharp as if he were sober once more, but he dared not open his eyes to test the theory out. Rain began to patter against their thatched roof and sure enough a few droplets began to fall against various parts of his body. At least it would keep the majority of the rain off. Tahoe contemplated waking Zeppelin up to discuss his ideas, but he had the distinct impression that she would not be pleased if he roused her unless it was absolutely necessary.
Against his better judgment, he opened his eyes and turned his face towards her. There was no color again, and he briefly wondered what exactly prompted his mind to empty the world of all vivacity. Shockingly, one color did remain despite everything else being black-and-white; the red color of Zeppelin's tattoos stood out. It wasn't a bright cherry red, nor a warm apple, but a deep rustic red- like blood. That's when he realized that he wasn't looking just at her tattoos, but actual blood seeping through her skin where her tattoo was. A lump formed in his throat. She didn't seem to be in pain, and was snoring contentedly in her deep slumber; he knew it was a trick of the mind. It had to be. Unless she was actually bleeding, that somehow the keepers had found some impossible way to remotely injure people. That was a far-fetched idea, but as Zeppelin had said: the world is full of possibilities, no matter the actual probability. Or something along those lines.
He knew that he should wake her just to be on the safe side, but at the same time he knew that she was not actually hurt- though his thundering heart would disagree. The healer inside of him was impulsive; it wanted him to knit together he flesh and stop the loss of precious life-liquid. He had the sudden urge to take out the bone-knife in his tattered pocket and cut open her arm to make sure nothing was lodged into the muscle. There was no logic or reason behind the impulse, just a strong desire- no… a need almost impossible to ignore. His hand clenched into a fist and he stared at the girl with wide and disbelieving eyes. If he started cutting, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop; like he was possessed by some mad surgeon's soul. It was the most frightening thing that he could imagine- murdering somebody, hurting them, doing nothing while their life dwindled away and him being perfectly capable of helping. Everything that he truly feared in this world was rolled up into one peacefully slumbering woman. Without hesitation, he shook Zeppelin's shoulder and pulled his blood-soaked palm away when she groaned and rolled onto her back to crack her eyes at him,
“This better be good.”
Her voice was heavy with sleep and her tone was scornful, but he replied with absolute conviction,
“Something is wrong with us. You're bleeding, and I need to cut you.”
Understandably, she rose onto her elbows and drew the sharp hatchet from a belt loop,
“Explain.”
She growled.
“I don't want to hurt you, but I have the need to- it doesn't make sense, but it's like I'm starving and a piece of steak is being waved in my face.”
Zeppelin began to scoot out and away from him, but Tahoe held up a hand to halt her,
“No, you're safe here, don't go back out there. If I leave, I'm afraid that I'll come back and do it. The safest thing is to stay awake and watch me, I think. Keep your blade out- kill me if I try anything. Just… I don't know what is happening. I think I have a good idea, though.”
They stared at one another for a long while before Zeppelin seemed to agree with his conclusion and slipped back into the hut. She kneeled now instead of laying down, Tahoe himself was much too big to do the same. All he could do was lay there and swallow back the urge to attack her; it was easier when she had a frozen pendulum ready to swing at a moment's notice over his neck, and he had no doubt that she would not hesitate to strike him down quicker than he could move.
“What's this idea, then?”
She said quite suddenly. Tahoe noticed a steady rain drop hitting her on the shoulder. He breathed deeply,
“I think the keepers poisoned us. Don't ask me why, or how, but they did. They're running a test of some sort- happens all the time. It only happened to me once, not too long ago, when they changed me.”
“I've been meaning to ask you about that. I assumed I was hallucinating.”
“No, I've really got a tail and everything. They mess with your DNA and take away your shift so that you're always half man and half beast.”
“So, you think they gassed us somehow, and they're watching us?”
“Yeah, I think so. I met a few people when I first got here that have been taken into the labs for drug tests. Hallucinogens, mostly. One of them thought they wanted to use it on a large population; possibly on rebel groups. Makes you go crazy most of the time, changes people.”
Zeppelin tucked some hair behind her ear and looked guiltily at him through her lashes,
“And ah… did these people say how it was given to them?”
“Needles, gas, food, IVs, every which way.”
“Gas, huh?”
She chewed her lip and remained silent while she thought about what Tahoe had revealed, and just when he thought that their conversation was over she spoke up once more,
“I think that may have happened to me, then. This whole time I wasn't sure if it was real...”
Tahoe's blood lust began to increase to a noticeable level, he didn't want to just cut her anymore but he wanted to disassemble her. He wanted to see her organs and muscles underneath that oh-so-thin layer of skin. He licked his dry lips and shook his head to clear the stray and intrusive impulses from his head,
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don't really want to talk about it.”
Tahoe's thoughts blanked out, and he had the distinct impression of not being connected at all to the movements of his body and the command of his brain. He felt his chest vibrate with the low baritone of a dark voice that he'd never before uttered,
“Help me take my mind off of what your heart looks like in my hand.”
The voice itself was not threatening, but almost soothing and steady in its darkness. The words themselves were full of promise and danger. Zeppelin straightened up and brought the blade of the axe closer to his neck, practically kissing his adam's apple.
“Careful, or else I may want to see how your vocal chords can make such nice sounds.”
Her threat was as level as his, her voice dripping venom and confidence. Tahoe's body chuckled at the challenge, but his heart was reeling as he fought to take back control of himself. It was horrible, much worse than anything else that had happened throughout the day. There is no feeling quite like loosing control of everything so thoroughly that you can't even control your basic bodily functions.
Zeppelin didn't seem as fazed by him as she should have been under normal circumstances, and instead matched his morbid curiosity with her tale. She told him everything, weaving words and descriptions as only a practiced story-teller could do. By the time she was done, color had once again bled into his eyes and he was once more completely inside of his body,
“So let me get this straight- You thought that you'd lived in the labs for more than fifty years, died, and was brought back into a parallel but similar universe where God wanted you to try again. And this whole time you thought you were being stalked by Him?”
She nodded her head in confirmation, and Tahoe couldn't help but let a huge grin splatter his face.
“So, earlier, when you thought you were chasing God, what exactly were you going to do?”
“Open his throat.”
Tahoe spat out a bark of laughter at her, and her frown deepened,
“That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. How did you fall for that? And how were you planning on killing an all-powerful and immortal being?”
Zeppelin's back straightened and her nostrils flared,
“Don't laugh at me. It all felt so… real. It all actually happened; maybe that's just how powerful the drug was. We don't have any grasp on how the other world works- they can try all they like, but they'll never know. Who's to say what is and isn't possible? And who's to say that God can't be killed if he exists?”
“You have a point. And if I hadn't met a few people who went through similar experiences, I might actually believe you. You're pretty convincing. All you needed this whole time was reassurance, I think.”
“That's very reassuring to know. You can't really tell right now, but on the inside I'm having a little bit of a second existential crisis. It's a little overwhelming at the moment, given the circumstances.”
Tahoe sobered into a straight face while the black and white began to come back along with his new-found hunger and the detachment that went along with it.
“How are you feeling?”
She asked with a hint of concern when his face gained an expression of almost manic happiness,
“Like I want to peel off your skin and filet the muscles from your bones. How are you feeling?”
He heard himself say casually. To her credit, Zeppelin didn't bat an eyelash at him- didn't take the bait either, much to his disappointment.
“I feel like I want to get the hell away from you. Other than that, I'm actually starting to feel normal again. I have a theory here.”
She tossed her waist-length hair over her shoulder and gestured to herself,
“Since I've had previous exposure to this, or something like this, I may have a shorter fuse than you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, and I honestly can't help but feel a little too close to you- but if I leave, you'll probably try to find me. You may even get to me before it wears off.”
“That sounds fun. We should try it. You go ahead and run off, I'll catch up.”
He grinned at her with his massive fangs flashing cockily at her, his voice cheerful and full of childish excitement.
“I've a better idea. Since it would be perilous to your health to leave this place, you just stay here- I'll go my way. Maybe I'll catch you around and see if you're a little less murdery when you're sober.”
Tahoe's voice was cooing now, as if she were an ignorant child and he was the wise adult,
“That's a great idea, Zeppelin. You just run along now. I'll… catch you around.”
Zeppelin rose up on her knees and Tahoe's possessed mind was planning on giving her a five minute head-start. She would have gotten a longer one but she was just too quick to allow. To his surprise and his relief, Zeppelin struck him in the temple with the heavy butt of her axe- she was too quick for him to react any other way than promptly passing out. He heard her backing out into the downpour right before loosing consciousness.