Escapism (The Escapism Series) (7 page)

  “Uh-huh.” I was consumed by sensory overload and my skin felt surprisingly enlightened. Every sensation instilled an awakening unlike the prior. Facing Kiran, I reached to touch his face.

  “Why does everything feel freaking fantastic here,” I asked while my fingers slowly edged down his neck.

  “Because we’re in between worlds, a portal that divides civilized order on either side from pandemonium—” Kiran gasped, unable to complete his train of thought as he staggered on. I pressed my cheek against his, and his lips brushed my skin. “—a divine world where our unconscious desires are driven from.”

  I attempted to restrain myself long enough to digest my surroundings.

  “Mmm,” Kiran moaned as he reopened his eyes. He looked absolutely mesmerized, just like how I felt.

  “I need to leave.” I felt a bolt of panic rising from deep within me. “How do we go back?”

  “I’ll take you back, Xenia. You’re overwhelmed,” he replied. He walked and I followed. The long stretch of grass vanished in a series of light flickers as we reappeared in my car. Kiran waited for my reaction—post traumatic response, to be exact. I felt a lot in the moment, but nothing that I could express.

  “Where d’you live?” I asked, while starting the car, attempting to re-establish some normalcy.

  “No questions?” he seemed surprised.

  “I want to go home,” I cried.

  “I understand,” he said, nodding sympathetically. “You can drop me off by campus. My car is still there.”

  I huffed, looking at him as the corners of his lips twitched, fighting a devilish smile.

  “Actually, I do have questions. Who was that guy you were with?” I had to know, mostly because I felt his hostility as though I had wronged him somehow.

  “He’s Orion,” Kiran said, simply.

  “What is he?” I swallowed a lump in my throat.

  “Wouldn’t you rather know what you are first?” he asked, bemused.

  “I can travel between worlds?”

  “Yes, you can. You are a
Diplozoe
.” He enunciated each word. “As am I.”

  “And Orion? He’s also like us?”

  “He’s a little more than that, but essentially, yes,” he chuckled, continuing, “Simply put, we can travel between two worlds, even if we are lacking a fragment, because we’re
special
.”

  “Can everyone travel like we can and, more importantly, what’s a fragment?” I asked, desperately trying to understand.

  “Not everyone,” he said, continuing, “We’re an evolved race of human beings, Xenia. You’ve known all your life that you were different because our capabilities aren’t
normal
as defined by this reality. You suppressed your true nature, how, I still wonder,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I’ll explain more tomorrow.  It’s too much info to digest in one day.”

  “How can we be normal? This all feels—and sounds—freakish.”

  “The reality of normal is, and always has been, fabricated, Xenia.

  We exist in a world whereby powerful beings brainwashed us from birth, attempting to distract us from reality. Humans have been conditioned to welcome distractions, of any kind, in an attempt to mask the harshness that is reality. Most of the ritualistic things we do on a daily basis bear no relevance to the betterment of human kind. But one thing for sure is that
we
are the real norm. Our minds were freed from centuries of captivity. The powerful Elite Society of Mortals—ESOM, our mortal enemies—failed to suppress the inevitable evolution of humans.
We
are normal.”

  I closed my eyes in an attempt to distance myself from the present moment. I was afraid of what else I’d uncover had I asked anything more.

  “Honestly, I really think you’ve had enough for one day. We can resume our Q & A tomorrow. Would you like that?”

  “I guess. There’s just one more thing I need to ask,” I pried.

  “Sure. Why the hell not? Shoot.”

  “Does Orion despise me or something?”

  Kiran took his time, casually checking his cuticles before he responded, “Let’s just say he’s a little envious of your potential as a Diplozoe.”

  “So he hates me because of something I have no control over and only just found out about?”

  “Hate is a strong word,” he said, bemused. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

  “Huh.” I was unable to appreciate the magnitude of the situation while in shock. “I want to know about Orion.”

  “Know what exactly?”

  “Is he evil?”

  “Not in the strictest sense,” he snickered, continuing, “First things first, how do you know him?”

  I concentrated hard and a series of flashes slowly resurfaced. The mysterious tattooed guy at Landon’s party.  I envisioned him in detail, examining his tattoos.

  “I met Orion at Styx Nightclub, but we were in Styx and he waved me over. He pulled me in!”

  “Wrong, Xenia. You guided Orion—a Theodiplozoe: one who’s granted immortality by the Gods for servicing of the newly dead—to Styx.  Orion is a transporter to the mortal souls of the newly dead across the River Styx, the only portal to exist between the Online and Offline realms.”

  “Like virtual reality?”

  “Not quite,” he heaved a sigh of frustration. “Centuries back, while the ESOM experimented on Diplozoes after we were first discovered, they studied the human mind uncertain of scientific ways to explain our travels. Picture this—the human mind is like a computer, and then you have the frequency waves, the energy changes that allow shifting to another realm. It was only decades ago that the ESOM decided to reference the shifts using the technologically modern terms Online and Offline. Both the Offline and Online worlds are mirror images of one another. However, your life events, decisions you make, and the people you meet can vary between each world.”

  I was completely overwhelmed. I started to wonder about everything and anything. “What’s the deal with Styx Nightclub?” I asked, mostly because the name was a dead giveaway.

  “Some
mortal
thought it’d be cool to name his club after a mythological place. Little did he know,” he folded his arms over his chest. “The ancient lineage of ESOM originally labeled the River Styx as a mythological place to mask its truth and to portray it dark and forsaken by the gods.”

  Kiran got out of the car. He peered through, resting his arms on the driver’s side window. “I’m just trying to help you understand. I can tell someone else has also led you to the transitory world. Be mindful of who taps into your energy and guides you, but more importantly, be careful of who you guide yourself. You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” he hollered, walking away.

Unexpected Visitor

While I drove home, the radio blared with a collaboration of music as I switched between stations. Every station was on commercial break or broadcasting a storm alert. The sky gradually filled with dark gray clouds as it began to drizzle. The severe storm alert was the perfect cover to stay indoors in seclusion and act as if nothing had changed. After my afternoon with Kiran—I was in need of a distraction. I voice-activated my Cyclopod music playlist to my sound system, turning up the volume in an attempt to drown away the thoughts circulating in my mind.

  The highway was relatively smooth as I beat rush hour and only caught the beginning of the storm. As I pulled into the driveway, my mother backed out. She rolled down her window and said, “Honey, I have to meet with a client tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

  “There’s a severe thunderstorm alert in effect, Ma. Don’t you think it’d be best to cancel your meeting?” I was attuned to her lack of safety precaution when work was involved.

  “She’s an important client,” she said. “I’ll stay at a hotel if the thunderstorm is as severe as they’re calling for.”

  “Drive safely,” I shouted as she reversed out of the driveway, while I parked.

  I unlocked the front door and placed my bag and keys in a wicker basket by the entrance. I gravitated toward the kitchen in search of my dinner. I wondered whether there were any chicken nuggets still in the freezer. To my satisfaction, we had half a bag of chicken fingers and French fries remaining. I placed the frozen goods on a pan with some oil, and popped them into the oven to bake. In our garden, I picked some fresh lettuce and tomatoes to include some organic nourishment for my body.

  I shuffled up to my room while VT’ing Calliope. I usually texted on a global scale and video-texted my close friends regardless of how I looked. “Knock, knock,” I said, sticking my tongue out.

  Two seconds later, my Cyclopod rang. “Hey, what’s up?”

  I desperately wanted to tell Calliope and Marla about my revelation with Kiran earlier today, but it just sounded all too surreal. Instead I asked, “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Marla and I were thinking of checking out a campus bar. Maybe play some pool.” Calliope sounded excited.

  I sat by the window sill looking at the initial pitter-patter of raindrops transforming into gushing, violent balls of water accompanied by lightning flashes in the sky. I smiled, at ease.

  “It’s coming down pretty hard outside. I might stay in and watch a movie. Want to join me? I have French vanilla gelato,” I said, enticingly.

  “Mmmm, gelato,” she hummed. It was her favorite ice cream. “I would, but Marla already made plans to meet some people. Come out with us,” Calliope said, continuing, “Oh, I gave Marla a spare key to pick up my car in case you were napping.”

  “Aren’t you sweet! But I’m not in a social mood today,” I replied. “Have fun.”

  “Oh, we will. Ciao,” she sung in a familiar tune, as if she was preparing to wreak havoc on the town.

  I threw my phone on my bed and, in a moment of relaxation, remembered that I had left the oven on. “Oh, shoot!” I shrieked, running for the stairs and sliding across the hardwood floor in my socks. There was no sign of smoke and the fried goods looked just about right with a brown crispy coating, exactly how I liked them. I squirted some cold ketchup on top and added the salad on the other half of the plate.

  While eating in the kitchen, I decided to watch some television before diving into my movie collection—the appetizer to my main course. I liked nothing more than to be indoors on rainy days, all warm and cozy.

  The lights flickered and thunder crackled violently right before the electricity went off.

  “Great. So much for movie night,” I growled, annoyed.

  I searched the kitchen cabinets for a flashlight. Instead, I found some candles and matches. I lit a candle, carrying it up to my bedroom.

  Everything Kiran had unveiled resurfaced immediately in my dark and reclusive home—I desperately needed a distraction. Luckily, my laptop was charged enough to watch a movie or two. Determined to subdue my thoughts, I crept under my familiar comforter and watched a movie, gradually falling asleep to the sound of heavy rainfall.

  I awoke to the vicious sound of lightning striking the house from its foundation up. A second bolt of lightning sent chills throughout my body. As the rain came down harder, the wind gushed heavily through an open window in my room. I got out of bed to shut the window and decided to check up on Calliope and Marla. Both numbers went straight to voicemail.

  “Hey guys, just calling to make sure you haven’t driven into a ditch or something. Be careful,” I cautioned.

  I flicked the light switch, but it did no good; the power was still out. Lighting another candle, I searched for an emergency kit in the cellar using a stepladder to reach a black bag above the cupboard. Just as I had the bag in my reach, I heard a faint rapping on the door. I lost my balance, nearly falling over before steadying myself with the cabinet door.

  At first, I thought it was the wind rustling about, but the ensuing knocking sound only grew louder. I shuffled up the stairwell with a candle in hand, burning my fingers with the hot, trickling wax. I looked through the peephole and blinked my sleepy eyes to get a clearer image. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  I opened the door slowly, and he stood before me, soaking wet. Even the strands of damp hair plastered in front of his face were perfectly fashioning his attributes.

  “I was just passing through your neighborhood and thought I’d say hello,” he said softly.

  I expected him to call at the most or VT but this was utterly unexpected. Regardless, I was pleasantly surprised.

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “So…
hello
.” It sounded more like a question than a greeting. He took a step back while he swept wet strands of hair out of his line of vision.

  I didn’t want him to leave.

  “You go for long walks in the rain?” I asked.

  “Don’t you?” he asked, playfully. “Actually, my car stalled not far from here and I remembered where you lived.”

  I opened the door slightly wider as he stood on the porch, shielded from the rain.

  “Would you like to come in?” I asked.

  He looked up as if the rain was only a minor inconvenience. “Yes,” he said, quietly.

  I opened the door wider, invitingly.

  “Are you alone?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh. My mother is at a meeting. Apparently it’s worth risking her life—she’s  a workaholic,” I explained.

  Nicholas smiled divinely. “Nice place,” he said, straining to see through the darkness.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “Let me take your jacket.”

  Nicholas gladly removed the layer of wetness that clung to his body.

  “Wait here a minute,” I said, escorting him to the living room. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  I briskly hopped up the stairs to my bedroom, lighting a few candles along the way. To my dismay, I looked in the mirror appalled by my disheveled hair and messy room—I could only deal with one at the moment. I quickly brushed my hair, and applied some blush and lip-gloss. I dabbed some perfume behind each earlobe and on my wrists. The illuminating blush was guaranteed to give me a sheer glow, according to the saleslady from the department store. Even though it was dark, the lights could come on at any minute and I could not run the risk of looking like a train wreck.

  On my way down the hall, I picked up a few things from my parents’ closet before returning. Nicholas stood in the living room examining family photos and the bizarre art that my mother hung on the wall.

  “Something to help you dry off with,” I said, handing him a towel.

  He took the towel to his face and hair.

  “Thank you,” he smiled and examined the clothing in my hands.

  “I thought you might like something dry to change into.” I handed him a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and sweat pants from my father’s trendy collection of clothing that my mother bought for him with the original price tags still on.

  “I don’t know if they will fit, but they’re dry.”

  “Thank you, Xenia,” he said, obliged.

  We stood in the living room awkwardly examining one another. Then, Nicholas began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Oh. Right,” I said, embarrassed. I covered my eyes quickly turning away. “I’ll give you some privacy. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  While heading over to the kitchen, I hit my shin against the coffee table and growled, “Ouch. Damn it.”

  “Are you okay?” he hurried over, with a candle in hand. I could smell the vanilla escaping as the swaying flame melted the wax.

  “I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.” I cringed while rubbing my shin. You would think that after growing up in this house, I would have a better sense of my surroundings.

  “Here, take this candle with you. I’ll light another.” His gentle hands placed the candle securely in my own. The dancing flicker of candlelight, excitedly illuminated his bare chest.

  “We just redecorated,” I uttered with a sigh.

  Nicholas bit his lip, subduing a smile.

  I paid closer attention to my surroundings during my second attempt through the darkness. I searched the wine cabinet for some chardonnay and returned with two wine glasses and a bottle.

  “No plans for tonight?” Nicholas asked while he poured the wine.

  “Nope. I felt like staying in. As a matter of fact, I considered going for a long walk in the rain,” I teased.

  “Rain can be soothing, you know, especially when you need to blow off steam,” he assured.

  “It’s soothing? Being cold, wet, and a lightning target?”

  “It’s invigorating,” he beamed, pleasantly entertained.  “Aside from being cold, wet and a lightning target. You should try it.”

  “No thanks. I like being warm and cozy.” I wiggled into the sofa.

  His eyes intently glossed over my body before he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Well, then, what does Xenia do in her spare time?”

  “I do a lot of things.” Although, I couldn’t think of anything spectacular to say.

  “
Like
?” Nicholas slumped into the couch. His eyes were excited by my sudden elusiveness.

  “Uh, well, I like to work out for starters.”

  “
That
, I already know. And you don’t
need
to work out. You’re in great shape.”

  I flushed a deep shade of red, fortunately indiscernible in the dark. I accepted the compliment as best as I could—a sheepish smile while looking away.

  “I play sports on occasion. I like to read a wide genre of books, mostly classics.”  That was a stretch. I liked magazines, mostly for the pretty pictures inside but he didn’t need to know that.

  He glanced at the coffee table and reached for a book in the wicker basket.

  “Ah. I spot a classic before us,” Nicholas said, examining the book. “You like romance novels, do you?” he winked playfully.

  Horrified, I lunged toward him reaching for the book. “No, that’s actually my mother’s. She doesn’t like it when people touch her belongings,” I snarled.

  “Let me read some of it first,” he hurried over to the kitchen counter and read me a passage.

  “
His mouth caressed her neck hungrily, possessively. She felt a moment’s hesitation when he laid her on the sheets right before he pulled off his clothes. Oh, how she wished there was light
.”

  “Please stop,” I begged, completely mortified. I had borrowed the book from Marla who was hooked on romance novels. Dreadfully, I had become addicted too.

  Nicholas raised an eyebrow while reading the next passage to himself.

  “Hmm. I’ll stop here,” he hummed, returning the book to its original spot.

  We continued our strained conversation in the living room, drinking the much needed wine.