Curse From Eve p.2

Last time…on Curse From Eve. (read the first part or you are going to be VERY confused) 

I never know whose past it’s going to be or what I’m going to witness. I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m real within these planes. I’m skeptical about religion or superstitious nonsense, but ever since that fateful day where the traumatic, the abnormal, and the completely batshit insane had all collided into the no-place that was There.

I had to sleep. There was no denying how heavy my mind was and the migraine was starting to blur my vision in its intensity.

I changed into my pajamas and swallowed a mouthful of Tylenol Sleep PM. No drug, prescription or over-the-counter, stopped me from going There but I needed to sleep. I had gotten used to going to sleep even when my mind was so objected to it. It was less about bravery and more about giving up the fight.

I climbed into bed and sunk my head into my pillow. I was diving off the plank into a sea of unknown beasts as I succumbed to fitful slumber.

 

We now continue…

 

I woke up to…

Oh, God.

Really?

I had woken up in a tiny room plastered with pictures of half-naked women and a teenage boy that was…enjoying the artwork.

I could be relieving the memories of some hotshot metropolitan businessman’s vacation in Hawaii, maybe the first kiss memory of a 70-year-old accomplished author circa 1930s in vibrant color (those were always rather entertaining and astounding), or even a front-seat viewing of war brutality and a PTSD veteran’s traumas as he sings his fallen comrade to final rest…

…but, no. I get to see a teenage boy jack off in 1970.

There was no use trying to shield my eyes or put my fingers in my ears because I wasn’t really corporeal here. It was like I was a camera floating in Z space. I didn’t control the view, I was just along for the ride.

This is one ride that made me want to puke.

The kid couldn’t have been more than 14, so this felt all kinds of wrong. I didn’t control the flow of time here (nor did I in real life, but you know what I mean). I saw the things I never wanted to see.

Finally, he finished and rolled over to go to sleep. The room was now dark and quiet, so I was probably going to see a different scene now. I learned the cues from all my time in this realm. When any action, however menial or perverted it may be, is completed, I am presented with a different scene.

However, this time I was just watching a dark room and now listening to a kid snore.

Huh. This was different.

Maybe I had to…

Somehow, someway, I was now controlling my being or whatever word of the English language would explain my existence here. It was confusing not to assign it a word, so let’s go with aura. Usually that word was reserved for people that believed in star charts and chakras and other bullshit, but this was my reality. Uh, dream reality.

Nah, pretty sure this is its own brand of bullshit.

I hadn’t exactly tested the legitimacy of the things I saw. Because I could hardly tell anyone that I saw that I experienced their past in my dreams. That was the kind of shit that got you frequent flier miles at the nearest psychiatric hospital.

I shifted my aura slightly in each direction, getting a sense of what exactly I was in terms of mass or defining shape. It really did just seem like I was an invisible camera or like I was wearing a VR headset with no…head.

It seemed like I had to explore if I was going to move on from here. I don’t know how this newfound lucidity was affecting my body, but I had a hunch that I had to progress.

Only…there was a closed door. I usually snapped from what room I was viewing the relevant event in. There was no traversing through doorways usually.

Until now.

Well…if I wasn’t exactly corporeal, I could just…

I turned my aura toward the door and willed myself beyond it.

I passed through it like light does a window. I was now in a dark hall, a very narrow, dark hall. This wasn’t an average family home, because there were about twelve more doors, six doors on one wall matching up with six doors on the opposite. It was eerie how tiny the walking space was for a house that had twelve rooms with what I was assuming twelve occupants.

Funny I mentioned psychiatric hospital. But I doubt that the teenage boy would have been allowed to decorate his walls with swimsuit models.

I suddenly realized that this didn’t need to be a mystery.

I willed my way into an adjacent door.

However, when I stepped through the door, the very texture of the walls and floor had disappeared. I was staring into blackness before me and below me. It was like a video game glitch when a player character falls through the world map into the void.

That’s when I realized that I had to treat this realm differently. Each room would have to be tied into the person’s memory for me to be able to witness it. And right now, this character probably didn’t know what happened in these other rooms or if they were even occupied.

It was a video game world and the main character hadn’t explored these rooms yet for them to be accessible for me. But if they were the main character, what did that make me?

I shifted back into the hall and looked around.

Maybe it wasn’t just being here in the moment to witness. Maybe I had more control than I thought, at least over the map.

Could I know what day it was in this memory?

And suddenly I knew.

May 9th, 1973. 11:32pm.

Where was I?

McCarter’s Blessed Rejuvenating Ranch. 

Whose memories were these?

Nothing.

Guess that wasn’t the right question.

Can’t ever be easy, can this.

I threw caution to the wind and just wished it was 9:00am.

Suddenly, the hall was now lit up and boys were waiting outside their rooms. The people in these memories could never see me because I wasn’t technically visible or real in this world and they never had any sense that they were being watched. This was merely a mind capture of real event being played out in front of me.

The boys were all similarly dressed in slacks with white button-up T-shirts tucked into their belted waists. Each boy wore an expression of seeming obedience. Except…that each of the boys in their identical rigid postures and impeccable uniforms was giving off fairly Stepford Wives connotations.

I also noticed as I drifted down the state of the hall that, horrifyingly, a few boys didn’t have a face.  There was complete silence and the boys that had eyes had glassy, unblinking gazes seemed like wax figures in their abnormal stillness.

A figure suddenly appeared at the very end of the hall.

Only…it wasn’t quite they had just walked in from another location beyond this hall. Also, something was very off about the face on new this person. Person? Creature? Aberration?

The eyes.

The eyes were completely black.

Not a hint of white sclera, nor even a fleck of light reflected from a pupil.

But it was as if the cavernous sockets were bleeding a black, viscous ooze.

Emptiness…but leaking, dripping emptiness…

“Full to the brim, aren’t you?”

I startled, but there was no means of closing my eyes or shielding my face because this was There and I wasn’t really here.

The voice that had spoken wasn’t any that I heard, and yet I recognized it. It was raspy and venomous and phased through my ears like music does when it switches channels, only this was not a welcome sound. This was a voice that snaked through my ear canals like a clew of tiny grub worms–unwanted, invasive, and irritating, making my blood that did not flow here…curdle.

The thing that was speaking was looking at Me. At least, the projection of…whatever the thing was, seemed to be addressing Me.

It spoke again, but not in English. The language was not any I knew. It was non-language, gibberish that reminded me of…

...tongues. Speaking in tongues. 

Suddenly, the orderly boys standing by their respective doors starting copying the thing and the hall was perceptively filled with the horrid, chorusing chanting and if I had a head here, it would surely be splitting at the seams from the din of the ranting, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG, RANTING, RaNtING, RaNtiNG,

 

Ŗ̵͈̙̘̟͎͎̝̺͐ͮͤ̊̂̈́͂͢͡͡A̸̴͚͔͕͔̻̬͎͇̱̱̠̘͇̘̾͛ͫ͐̅ͬ͋͝N̸̡̛̯̥͔̹̜̤̥͋ͪ̂̑̑̌͑͋̇͋̽̄̔͛̂ͣͮ́͢ͅṰ̸̟̲̹̖̪̣̼̫̲͎̯̳̬̮̤̟͕͑̏͆ͬ͑͂ͦͨ͗ͫͪ̉͆͠͡I̸̧ͯ̎̓̂̀̍̾ͪ͋ͥ̅̄͊̉̈́ͭ̂̀҉͉͉͇̗͉̤̺̻͇͉̬ͅͅŅ̵̨̳͍͎̳̞̣̤̟̭̅̀̅́̈́̊̎ͤ͗̚̚͡͡G̢̠̠̗̙̪͕̜̘̙̈́ͩͧ̀͑̒͊ͫ͛̌ͦ̈́̿̈̒͛ͭͮ͘͜͜͜ Ŗ̵͈̙̘̟͎͎̝̺͐ͮͤ̊̂̈́͂͢͡͡A̸̴͚͔͕͔̻̬͎͇̱̱̠̘͇̘̾͛ͫ͐̅ͬ͋͝N̸̡̛̯̥͔̹̜̤̥͋ͪ̂̑̑̌͑͋̇͋̽̄̔͛̂ͣͮ́͢ͅṰ̸̟̲̹̖̪̣̼̫̲͎̯̳̬̮̤̟͕͑̏͆ͬ͑͂ͦͨ͗ͫͪ̉͆͠͡I̸̧ͯ̎̓̂̀̍̾ͪ͋ͥ̅̄͊̉̈́ͭ̂̀҉͉͉͇̗͉̤̺̻͇͉̬ͅͅŅ̵̨̳͍͎̳̞̣̤̟̭̅̀̅́̈́̊̎ͤ͗̚̚͡͡G̢̠̠̗̙̪͕̜̘̙̈́ͩͧ̀͑̒͊ͫ͛̌ͦ̈́̿̈̒͛ͭͮ͘͜͜͜ 

Ŗ̵͈̙̘̟͎͎̝̺͐ͮͤ̊̂̈́͂͢͡͡A̸̴͚͔͕͔̻̬͎͇̱̱̠̘͇̘̾͛ͫ͐̅ͬ͋͝N̸̡̛̯̥͔̹̜̤̥͋ͪ̂̑̑̌͑͋̇͋̽̄̔͛̂ͣͮ́͢ͅṰ̸̟̲̹̖̪̣̼̫̲͎̯̳̬̮̤̟͕͑̏͆ͬ͑͂ͦͨ͗ͫͪ̉͆͠͡I̸̧ͯ̎̓̂̀̍̾ͪ͋ͥ̅̄͊̉̈́ͭ̂̀҉͉͉͇̗͉̤̺̻͇͉̬ͅͅŅ̵̨̳͍͎̳̞̣̤̟̭̅̀̅́̈́̊̎ͤ͗̚̚͡͡G̢̠̠̗̙̪͕̜̘̙̈́ͩͧ̀͑̒͊ͫ͛̌ͦ̈́̿̈̒͛ͭͮ͘͜͜͜

 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. 

My head shot up and smacked the top of my headboard’s book nook.

Well, that’s one way to know you’re awake.

My eyes streaming from the pain, I curled up in a ball as I clutched my forehead in agony. My alarm was still screaming, but the goose egg I’d just formed on the crown of my head was being hatched.

Finally, lovely endorphins ebbed the pain away and I could turn off my annoying alarm.

I sat back in bed, my eyes still shut. I listened to the telltale signs of the upstairs apartment waking up. The mother was screaming her Bronxian woes at her piece of shit deadbeat husband. By the muffled sound of walking pumps, she had just gotten home from whatever she had been doing rather than being a parent.

“I concur, she is such a whore.” a voice said beside me.

I fell off the bed as I had a heart attack, seizure, and pulmonary embolism all at once.

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