Written 2.-3. 2. 1999.
Stephen King's Black Tower may have affected the story a bit. I hope you can avoid taking it personally that the story is in "you"-form even though it makes assumptions about the hero. And feel free to have fun drawing psychological conclusions about me, or just possibly recognizing parts of yourself.
You hear rapping at the window. You walk to it and raise your hand to open it, when someone - something - grabs your wrist from the other side, through where it used to be a window screen. The hand - and you recognize the thing that grabbed your arm to be a hand, although it seems to be glowing blue - makes an attempt to pull you through the window, but stops when the puller in its other end notices that your hand won't go through the glass, a fact you might have told it yourself if someone bothered to ask you...
The hand releases you and pulls itself back through the window. You rub your wrist. Nevermind that it moves through glass, the grip was real and tight. A face emerges on the other side of the window. It's blue, too. It looks like a spirit or something, straight from a fantasy book. Maybe Peter Pan who fell headfirst into a bucket full of blue paint? The thing beckons you out.. out through the window? It nods, but you don't remember saying anything aloud. "Are you reading my mind?" you think. It shakes its head. You feel like like a cartoon character that glances at the audience (after the other character walked in through a door it drew in the wall or something like that), thinking something like "Yeah, sure."
You are confident that either someone put LSD in your Coke or you're asleep, but you decide to open the window. Well, whaddayaknow, there's a rainbow bridge outside. Well, not exactly that, but a very colourful thing it is and it's hanging from thin air. The spirit's standing on it, too. It's tapping its blue foot, arms folded. It grins when you gape at the... platform.
"Well, are we off?"
Its mouth didn't move.
"Of course it didn't. I'm not real real, I'm inside your head, silly." It taps its temple.
"And make that 'she', I'm not exactly a neuter and you make it sound like I was an animal."
Not a neuter? Well, it doesn't seem to be wearing anything and... wait a second, you're going crazy, aren't you?
"Nope."
You wonder if you could get out through the window, but the spirit shakes its- her head. "Have you ever heard of astral bodies?"
Suddenly, a powerful voice booms: "Oh. Silly me." A giant pencil emerges, draws you an astral body and a thread going from the forehead of it to your physical body's forehead.
The spirit disagrees, again. "Oh, that's so old-fashioned. How do you suppose we'll be able to make a decent tour if we have to watch for /that/ all the time?" It - she - points at the silver thread.
The voice booms: "Oh, alright. Have it your way." And the giant pencil turns around, exposing the gigantic rubber end. It removes the thread and you feel relieved. "There. Happy now?" the voice sounds a bit hurt.
"Certainly. Thank you." The spirit curtseys at thin air, then grabs you by the hand again and this time you have no trouble walking through the window, nevermind that it's open.
You wonder what'll happen to your body in the meanwhile.
"It'll be raped by a group of lusty blondes who appear the minute you turn your back. What did you expect? It'll just hang around and seem a bit absent, maby go to sleep or watch TV or discuss politics or do something else that doesn't require mental activity."
You nod. "Where to, now?" you ask.
"We're going inside a head. Follow me." The spirit slides, glides or, well, moves on the rainbow bridge. And she's fast, about running speed without even moving her legs. You scratch your head for a while, then try to do the same. First you almost succeed in falling flat on your stomach, but get the hang of the thing soon. You slide after the impatient spirit.
Your speed increases fast and you can no longer see your surroundings clearly. You close your eyes, feeling dizzy. When you open them, you're not moving anymore. You're on the doorstep of a huge hallway of... of a very expensive hotel, coloured dark red, gold with hints of black and white... no, a gothic cathedral of light blue and white and grey... the waiting room of a hospital... The scenes change rapidly - and endlessly. You close your eyes again, trying to clear your mind.
When you're thinking about practically nothing, you decide to take a glance at the room. Now it's staying still, at least. There are dozens of different doors all around you. Standing beside one is the blue sprite again. You notice that she has a key hanging from her neck. She bounces to you and pulls the key string over her head. She sets the key to your hand.
"You'll notice that it fits every lock in here. I'll hang around in case you need anything. I recommend that you start with doors that don't look too big or heavy." She seems slightly worried.
"No problem, I can take care of myself." You hear muffled voices from the other side of a green door. You walk to it, unlock, open and step in.
This room has mirror walls, floor and ceiling, so that it seems to go on endlessly. There are a couple of figures standing and sitting in this room, and in the "rooms" in the walls the same figures are fencing, playing chess, arm wrestling, boxing, you name it. When you look in the actual room (and notice that the rooms don't go on downwards, the floor's not a real mirror, it seems), you notice that the biggest figure's the one who's been shouting loud enough for you to hear it through the door. It's waving its hands at a slightly smaller figure which stands in front of it, arms folded, looking tired.
"...And I can't believe anyone could be that naive!... As stupid, as unskilled, as plain bloody ignorant!... It's a wonder you've survived! What do you call this?" It waves its hands again and the more quiet figure answers something inaudible and shrugs. "Ha! I knew it! If you weren't that sloppy and ineffective, neither of us would have to go through this! It's all your fault, you inane, foolish, weak, defenseless, lazy excuse of a human being!" At the end, the one being yelled at turns from light blue into a bit darker shade and opens its mouth as if to answer something, then snaps it shut, glares stonily at the taller, reddish figure, then looks away again.
There's a third creature in the room. It's brown, and it's watching the two. Every now and then it mumbles a few words to either one of the other two, and that figure seems to get some more inner strength from its words. Frowning, you turn away from the room.
"What was that?" You point back towards the room with your thumb.
"Self criticism." The spirit closes the door.
"Does the other one ever say anything?"
"Very seldom. Sometimes the angry one just gets tired, sometimes the tolerating one laughs in its face. Sometimes not."
"Oh. Are these..."
"Parts of a personality. Yes."
"Then this room was..."
"The embodiment of the process of self-deprecation meets self esteem. Sure, they aren't exactly balanced, but the brown guy usually sees to it that the other one doesn't blow the other away. Well, usually. It's standing for judgement coming from the outside."
"Oh, ok. Onwards!" You grab the key and walk to the door on the other side of the hall. The scribbling on it says "Mommy room". You chuckle, turn the key and enter.
There seems to be a couple of mommies in there, alright. One has smiling children all around her. She looks like a mix of Teresa and Mary and a few others of the sort. The sight makes you smile. You see another mother. Her child's frowning, looking a bit like an adult. The child has a pencil in its hand, and it seems to be solving a crossword puzzle. The mother beams, but looks a bit worried as if leaving the child alone with the crossword would positively mean something would go terribly wrong. Then a skinny mother with disheveled hair comes at you, looking horrible. A frightened child follows right beside her. She has another one in her arms. She walks right to you and quickly gives the child to you and beckons the other one to stand behind you. She looks into your eyes and you can see that things aren't in their place inside that scull.
"Please, take them! I... Tonight, when I was reading the n-.. newspaper, the younger one started to cry. It wouldn't stop, and... I.. I couldn't control myself. I slapped it and I'm afraid I won't be able to stop before it's d-dead!" Her voice trembles. She looks horrified. "Please keep me from doing it... Take the children, save them..."
The blue spirit's behind your back. You hear her inhale sharply, almost a gasp of surprise. She steps by you and takes the children. "I'm terribly sorry. She wasn't here yesterday. This is something new." She ushers the children and the mother to a corner of their own and returns to you.
"What if she'll..."
"It's just imagination. It's not happening now. Trust me."
The smaller child starts to cry again. You feel a bit out of place. "Um, is there a nicer place to see next?"
"Something more comfortable?" The spirit grins mischievously. "I know just the place." She guides you to a door that looks a bit like a jail door. It's unlocked. You step in.
In the room there's a table in the middle and a few holding cells in the walls. A woman's sitting by the table. She walks to you, smiling, and grabs your arm gently. Stroking it with her free hand, she whispers you welcome.
Ah. Nicer indeed. "What is this place, then?" The answer comes from one of the cells:
"Sexuality, my dear, and if you'll just let me out of here, I'll show you all about it..."
The woman keeping your arm warm shakes her head quickly. "Don't. Look if you will, but don't open. It's not time."
Well, you decide to take a look. The first cell, where the voice was coming from, has the strongest bars. You peer in and see a crossbreed of a succubus (or an incubus), Pamela Anderson and Lara Croft, dressed in a tight outfit of black leather. The holding cell's walls are filled with obscene pictures and phrases. Your eyes wish to pop out of their sockets, and they're not the only ones agitated. Gathering all your willpower, you turn to the being who told you not to let that one out and peer at her quizzically.
She shakes her head at you. "'Sex is a weapon one can use to rule the men.'", she quotes. "That's what she's all about. She might not survive outside the cage, but we're not taking any chances."
You frown, but decide to move on to the other cell. Inside, you see... this must be the one that created the early Fir. You lower your gaze. Definitely. She looks miserable. You notice that the cell door isn't locked. You turn to ask the pleasant girl - you can't help it, but after the first cell it's harder to think of her as a woman - the reason for the door to be open.
"There's no need to lock it. We're taught that it's alright, just like me." She smiles and rubs your hand. "The two of us, we're safe roles. And we're the oldest, too."
You shrug. The next cell is empty. There's no door and the inside of the small cage is neat but pretty in a way. You guess this belongs to the cutie beside you. She nods.
There's one more cell. You glance in and see nothing at first. You try the door, but it's locked. There's bubble gum or something in the lock and it seems to be frozen shut as well. Difficult, but not impossible to open. You glance around the cell again. Some movement catches your eye. This one has no form - it's something in between a beautiful flame and mist, a red cloud-like, warming substance. You push your hand in between the bars. It surrounds your hand. A pleasant feeling tingles at the tips of your fingers. The girl beside you lets go of your other arm and you step even closer the bars, moving your other hand inside too. Small sparkles tickle your nerves, embracing your brain, warming up your groin and almost making your legs fail you. You ponder for a moment if you could squeeze yourself through the bars. The girl's hands are stroking your back. She hugs you tightly.
After a wild moment of the very best sex you've had without taking your clothes off, you blink and step back from the cell. You're going to need a blowtorch, a heater, something to melt the ice around the lock.
You wander out of the room. The thing in the first cell laughs at something behind your back. You grab the blue spirit by the arm and order it to tell you where the storage room is, where can you find the equipment to melt down the lock in cell number four? The spirit shrugs.
"You'll just have to wait for spring."
"Look, I'm not in the mood for joking. Tell me, now, or I'll do something drastic, I swear - don't play games with me."
She looks lost, mostly. Suddenly, you hear a high voice from behind your back. You've heard it somewhere before...
"What's going on here?"
Of course, the red thing in the first room. It takes one good glance at you, glares briefly at the blue spirit and flashes into the "jail". You follow right behind it. You could swear it got colder in here when that thing came along...
The red call-it-a-spirit takes one glance at the being in the first cell. She/it moves to the corner and lets out a quiet whine. Seems like you're dealing with the boss here. The aforementioned passes the second cell without slowing down, shakes its head at the pleasant girl and stops at the fourth cell. It turns to face you, again.
"Is this the thing you wanted a blowtorch for?"
You nod. The red rolls its eyes and hisses at the being in the cage. You can feel the warm glow moving away from the bars. Frost is forming in the door. The cold breeze of a creature sweeps past you, mumbling something about self control, and disappears through the door. You're feeling strange. You can't move your legs or arms. You close your eyes again.
Opening them, you're sitting in the same room you left quite a while ago. Or was it that long? According to the clock it's been ten-twenty minutes at most. You rub your eyes. Was it a dream?
The window's closed. Must have been. But... is it just your imagination, or is there a palm print in the glass?