Authors: Frederic Merbe
Tags: #love, #life, #symbolism, #existential fiction, #dimension crossing, #perception vs reality, #surrealist fiction, #rabbit hole, #multiverse fiction, #meta adventure
The suite stinks of filth and liquor
and is permeated with the scent of sex. Littered with a banquet's
worth of half eaten meals, empty bottles, and nude sex kittens
waiting to appease Yakutoms demonically gluttonous appetite for any
sort of self indulgence. Of which he is never sufficed, and
demonstrates within five minutes of returning to his room. Changing
the album on the gramophone of a broken jukebox from old rock and
roll, to doo wop, to some kind of jazz that he says is the infusion
of melody with the electronic synthesis of the primal subconscious
to form a new pattern of music.
Huffing his satchel a few times, and
finishing a bottle and a half of dark liquor, then devouring a pot
roast platter with no help, as he snarls and growls and gurgles
like a monster. Then putting on a foul mouth comedian's album
before taking four of the whores to kiss and hug in his master
suite. Anna gets up to slam the door behind him, then enjoys the
comedian, and Cider says he's heard of him.
The debauchery lasts for hours with
continuous groans and moans and sometimes screams. The two of them
have been uncomfortable for the last two. Unable to even covertly
communicate as they sit in a room surrounded by sleepless goons
who're unwavering in watching them. She realizes, the whole suite
is filled with what seems to her to be like a soup of sensory
stimuli, of fragrances, foods, fabrics, music’s and hues of
illuminated shapes all over the walls. And that the two are sitting
in the middle of it as unbound hostages, waiting forever for him to
stop feasting on the women as he does his satchel.
“
You look nice but why are
you blushing Carrots?” he asks, to see her face flush, one of his
favorite things to see. Sometimes preferring when she's only a
little upset, so he can lighten her tightened face from
it.
“
Nothing to worry about,”
she says, not wanting to seem scared or suspicious to the six
unflinching goons around them.
“
Oh, okay, I was just
thinking it could’a been you thinking about me, but if it's another
guy,” he says teasingly.
“
There is no other guy,”
she shakes her head at him.
“
Yeah, I guess not,” he
says.
The master bedroom doors fly open
and Yaku emerges, bathed in his carnal over indulgence, to
ravenously delight his gluttonous desire for meat. This happens two
more times with each lasting for a few hours less. Trying anything,
to do anything but hear the animal groans and growls, so she
follows Cider’s lead in picking things to eat of the feast. The two
begin bickering amongst themselves about their predicament and what
to do. Standing close while picking through the tables feast like
foraging field mice. Unsure of what any of it is but seeing that
the plates of food share the glowing colors and shapes of the
panoramic view of city from seen his suite's windows for
walls.
“
You don’t know where
that’s been,” she says, slapping a piece of meat that Yaku touched
from Ciders paw.
“
I think I do,” he says
wiping his hand to his shirt.
“
What are we gonna
do?”
“
What else can we
do?”
“
We better make it outta
here. I don’t want that guy touching me. Okay,” she says pointing
her finger in his face.
“
He seems
alright,”
“
What?” she says
“everyone’s alright to you, idiot. Alright? like that lunatic on
that battlefield.”
The two pick at their
plates then take a nap until Crash! Boom! the heavy wooden doors
swing open, slamming against and cracking the walls on either side.
Startling Anna awake to lift her head from a plate with blueberry
filling blurring the vision of her right eye. Cider slides out of a
grease cheeked slumber, jumps to his feet and says, “Oh,” then sits
down and slides right back to sleep.
“
Cider!”
“
What?” he asks, looking to
his to right to see the glutton emerging, his ambient bending
demeanor demanding devout attention. Dripping fresh from bathing in
lustful descent of demonic soul devouring, dehumanizing self
indulgent depravity. Leaving the women drained of their energy as
lifeless corpses on the bloodless bed and floor behind him. Yaku’s
naked, unblinking, brimming with a deep purple aura emanating from
one of the few places on his body not painted with ink. The scar
tissue stretching across his chest to his left shoulder is pouring
a glowing flow of violet light that follows him as he walks to see
the sight through the wall high windows view. Not even glancing to
any of the glazed meats or glasses of whiskey, or meeting either of
the two in the eye. Standing stiffly in stark silence with his
tattooed back to them for minutes, only staring out to the self
illuminating metropolis closely resembling the food filling Yaku's
room and stomach. His presence is atmosphere dominating, feeling
almost like he has his own gravity as the dust in the air is
swelling in slow uneven circular cycles around him.
Did I just eat a school or something,
she asks herself eyeing the blue pie she wiped from her forehead,
then looks over to the window.
“
Cider, Cider look,” she
says, kicking his foot and pointing toward the thickening lines
forming into spectral faces and figures as though from condensing
moisture across the translucent walls and windows. Contorting to
flow with expressions of agony and sorrow toward Yaku, who's
tessellating with astral looking purplish energy. Drinking in the
lifeforce converging on him as though he is the spectral faces in
agony’s center of gravity.
“
What I need the both of
you do is go to a club,” Yaku says, his voice now of an unshakably
certain tone.
“
Sounds fair enough?” Cider
agrees.
“
For what?” she
asks.
“
You two not being from
here will have no trouble gaining access and staying close to the
bartender, where my men will be recognized. You must take the bar
area when the time comes,” Yaku says.
“
See I told you he was
alright, just a bar fight,” Cider says.
“
When? what time?” she
asks.
“
When the lights go out,”
Yaku says.
“
I don't know, that sounds
a bit sketchy,” he says.
“
It is...sketchy. The club
is used as a rival clan's base of operations,” Yaku
says.
“
So why are we doing this?”
he asks waving his hand even though Yaku’s
only seeing the skyline through the
window.
“
If you have any doubts,
just remember, maybe they will kill you, but I definitely will if
you do not obey me. So do as your told, and that fate won’t become
yours,” the nude man at the window says.
“
I mean why do you want to
do that?” Cider asks. He takes a snorting and snarling huff from
his satchel before he replies.
“
An old clan boss has
passed away. Leaving his young nephew to take his place, with
another of the elders is to act in the child’s place. It is the
deceased man's good friend and one of the most powerful of all the
bosses. If my plan works then the Asagawa will go to war for honor,
and the elder will have to choose between staying true to his oath,
or succumbing to the will of the other clan bosses, it will cause a
war either way. One that will sunder the might all of the clans.
Mine the most ruthless, the Tenaru, will be victorious in the
scramble of hundreds of warring clans, and I will assume my place
as the ruler of this entire realm,” Yaku says raging through his
clicking jaw, and growling with a rasp creeping into his voice.
Laughing, giggling and being on the verge of tears in just one
sentence.
“
After tonight, the entire
city will erupt into battle. There will be chaos everywhere you
look. It will be beautiful, glorious from shattering glass to
burning ashes,” he's now orating euphorically while twitching and
stroking the scar on his neck.
“
Then I will march
triumphantly through the embers and take my rightful place as
conqueror of all clans. To then hold every square meter of this
Alto in the grasp of my hands. In my ascension I will devour this
entire dimension.”
The spectral violet
light strobes brighter from his shoulder, pulling the air of the
room into ghostly clouds encircling him like a minuscule volcano
erupting in reverse. As Yaku speaks static starts charging through
the air, making the hair stand straight off Anna's neck.
“
Descending everything into
chaos, feasting on millions of souls until I ascend into
immortality. Then forever bathing in pleasures of my paradise, with
unfathomable energy at my fingertips for all of
eternity.”
Anna is scared, even Cider looks as
though he's seen a ghost, and he's seen many and this man is
engorging himself with them by the hundred without even
flinching.
“
Psst,” he says, she shakes
her head no.
“
Psst psst.”
“
What?” she
asks.
“
Is that an alligator
tattooed on his back?” he asks.
“
Or a crocodile,” she
answers.
“
It is a crocodile,” Yaku
says in a guttural tone. Facing her with a suffocating gaze while
still seeming like he's standing miles away. Displaying a divine
focus as though seeing something that isn't there wherever he
looks.
“
Dude, are you a vampire?”
he asks, causing Anna to bursts out of from being scared stiff into
a belly aching fit of bellowing laughter. Cider laughs along, even
Yaku's deep purple light lavenders a little though his manic
expression remains unfazed.
“
I am not a vampire,” he
says grinning.
“
It’s not that,” she says
between gasping and giggling, “not that at all, it's
ahahaha!”
“
What?” Yaku asks with an
insulted tone.
“
He, hahaha he...his. While
giving his...hahaha. Giving his big, hahaha, big grandiose plan,
about...eternity and eternal power..hahaha.”
“
What is it Carrots?” Cider
asks.
“
His ass, his ass cheeks
were twitching and tightening when he was speaking ahahahaaaa,” she
laughs, all three burst into laughter simmering a minute
later
“
But really though are you
sure you’re not a vampire?” she asks.
“
No I am not,” Yaku says
sternly.
“
I think this guy's a
vampire,” Cider says to play along.
“
I am not!”
“
You are,” he
says.
“
No! I’m not!”
“
Are you a robot?” she
asks
“
No.”
“
Are you sure?” she
asks.
“
Actually no I’m not sure.
As I said before our technology is somewhat seamless, so none of us
know what flesh is real flesh, or if the blood is synthetic or
not.”
“
And you drink it?” she
asks.
“
I am not a vampire! stop
calling me a vampire,” Yaku shouts in a demonic rasping tone
reddening the violet with a violently loud outburst. Blowing the
hair back of the two for a second.
“
So what happened in
there?” he asks.
“
I consumed their life
force, their energy” Yaku answers.
“
Are they’re dead,” he
asks.
“
Yes, they are
dead..”
“
And you’re not a…,” she
says.
“
No! whatever, it's time to
go. I must conquer and consume, feast on the energy of everything
my eyes can see,” Yaku says while flaring up the violet ghostly
force gushing in and out of his horribly scarred left
shoulder.
“
I told you he was
alright,” Cider says as the three leave the sour feeling suite of
over indulgences.
Glutton's fill
The two are in a wave club,
already a few drinks in, talking with their lips to the other's ear
to hear each other. A wave club is a voluminous space where a mix
of frequencies and bass filled sounds resound into something
resembling music. Everything is amplified so that the sensory
system of the patron is so over indulged they often spend the
entire nights drooling on their seats, then falling on the ground.
There are all sorts of perception disrupting substances saturating
anything you eat or see, even the aromas laced with pheromones.
having the pungency of a lush rainforest, are made to mask one of
many mild psychoactive intoxicants misted hourly into the air. The
air itself is fabricated to feel like satin and silk against your
skin as you move through it. Gyrations of beautiful women dressed
in primal skirts under strobe lights draw in the mesmerized men and
women like flies to a flame.
Hardly anyone
is dressed, though everyone is luminously glowing against the pitch
black patches of the walls and checkered floor. Otherwise the
lights of the people intermingle into a single tessellating body,
like seeing a forest and not single tree. Those who're dressed are
fashioned in a mix of atomic era and stone age clothes. The women
having different colored hair are wearing miniskirts with glowing
body paint and feathers as clothing. Often gliding around on
rollerskates. Some are only pieces of people, beautifully sculpted
legs and torso, some just the legs, there are even a few hands just
running around eager to please.