PORTAL #8
The heat from the luxury apartment kitchen agitated every piece of furniture, every room, every inch.
“If you weren't so occupied with your own success, maybe you would've been there for your son! Look around you, Dale! He left because you didn’t give a fuck about his dreams, but your own. It was always about you and what you want. You were out, trying to climb that socioeconomic latter all the way to the top, and look at you now. You're going to be convicted of vehicular homicide. Maybe if you would've put on your pants, and been a father to your son, you wouldn't be in this situation!” Kim Dilwash said, cooking pasta, stirred sporadically. “Do you know how much shit I hear from my parents because of you? I'm treated like shit for staying with you! They think it's all about the money! All I wanted was a happy family, but that wasn't enough for you? You had to be out there, selling your time to others that don't give one fuck about you, me, or our son! How dare you!”
“Will you be quiet woman?! My lawyer promised me involuntary vehicular manslaughter. I paid good money for him too, he has to deliver. I couldn't care less about what your parents think or say, have you ever considered my side? Have you been under the pressure I'm forced to be in so you can spend everything on shit?! I'm going to serve time no matter what baby doll, out of trillions of people, I'm the one served with this plate?” He moved her way, knocking down an exotic vase.
“Dale, you know what the doctor said, Dale.”
“I'm fucking tired of your yelling, your complaining, it's d-r-i-v-i-n-g-m-e-c-r-a-z-y!” He gripped her shoulders, eyes frantic. “Everything I've done is for the family, but like with everything else, you find something, something! And create a big fucking problem! And I have to solve it! Oh don't give me those crocodile tears. You, you with all your cunning ways of getting what you want, you did this to me. You brought me to a point where only misfortune could come to me!”
“Get your hands off me, you murderer!” She shoved him away, grabbed the steaming pot of pasta, and held it before her, ready. “You killed that punk you hated and took advantage of. You did that. You can't take responsibility for your own actions! You're not a man, not even half a man, you're worthless.”
“What does that say about you, huh? You married me. What? Don't you bring some external pressure nonsense out, you know damn well what kind of person you were with. Five years together before marriage, did you really think things were going to change with our son? You gullible child.” Dale went to the dining table, dining ware set by her, in the kitchen, yanked his chair out, and sat. “Now, if you don't mind, sweetie, can we eat dinner in peace and quiet, hmm?”
Kim stood there, dropped the pot on the floor, and walked out the apartment.
In one motion, he swiped the table clean of everything. He flipped the table over and smashed his chair into the wall; red face, jaws tight, self-hate pulsing through his veins, he could not see clearly.
His cellphone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out, and his shoulders dipped forward.
“Hello?”
“Where the fuck you been? I've just received a call from the nightcrawlers. Three fucking days Dale? Three fucking days? You think the power-grids run themselves? Get your fat-ass into the control station right now! Or it'll be your last day, you hear me? I trusted you, Dale, don't disappoint me anymore.”
Sweat beads rolled down his forehead, and he loosened his tie. “Ah, yes, I was meaning to go, but there's just a lot of things going on for me right now. I-I killed one of my employees, my store is closed, I'm losing money, my wife and son-
“You what? Why are you killing our food supply? You unstable idiot, you know what kind of backlash you created in three days of not doing your job? There's beings starving already! I don't care if you have to go through prison walls, you're still under contract, and you're going to fix this! We will eat your soul!”
“Yes, boss.”
The call ended. He threw the phone through a window.
I can't show my face out in public! They'll harass me until I tell them what they want to hear. That I had been planning to kill the fucker for months, just like that ant-fucker on that show. I can't believe people actually waste their time watching that nonsense. They're like headless chicken running around the latest fad or event, like stuff like this doesn't happen all the time throughout history. The world is a vast place, and it's populated by all kinds of people doing all kinds of things all the time! What's the difference if that fucker died, and not some other fucker? NOTHING! Both are fuckers and died fuckers as fuckers should. Get a grip, this is what happens! Your body is gonna die someday motherfucker.
Dale stared at the mess in disgust. What if I get a life sentence? I'll lose my mind. Focus, Dale, you still have obligations. I'm going down there, and I'm collecting what is mine! He went to the refrigerator, opened it, uncapped a beer bottle and drank it under four seconds. Ah, fuck it, I'll drink'em all, then I'll go.
Frandice, Milly, Clorus entered the apartment complex elevator. Milly pushed button number twenty four, the last floor. Ice cold, their hearts prepared for the mission. Something ran through their minds, pulling them closer to the gravity of hate.
The bell of arrival rang and the elevator doors opened. They stepped out and knew exactly where to go; door number 2-4-7.
Smack! Frandice bashed her head against the door; the other two followed.
“What the fuck are you three doing?” Dale swung the door open. Milly fell inside face-first. “What th- Frandice pounced on him, bit his neck. He screamed and smashed a beer bottle over her head. Clorus kicked in his left knee and pushed him down. Frandice dropped elbows and hammer-fists on his face. Milly twisted his right ankle.
A black cat walked down the main hallway headed towards Dale's door; a toy clown head jingled with the name-tag: NIGHT CRAWLER, on the collar.
The cockroaches launched the last one up to the six. It latched on and hurried up the living latter; the first screaming horrified.
It exited out the hole pushing off the first's face.
The six fell.
The seventh reached down and caught hold of them by one leg. The cockroaches fell back down.
Dis-Jud-Fuzz rose from it's throne. The human dancers vanished, the cockroaches revealed.
“LASER BEAMS!” The ten were annihilated, and Dis-Jud-Fuzz sent the black cloud away; it had shown him something wrong to it's senses. “It will come back to me, and realize it's dependence on me.” It went out to find other remaining cockroaches.
A sense of lost, Willis transformed back into the smoke. There's no other choice, I'm going to end the misery for both of you. Dragon, I tried to protect you, but I'm no hero and no medic, I can't heal your wounds.
“You actually think you can kill me?” The beast said. It jumped into the haze, and was consumed by it.
Air, we need air. And I was so terrified of it, I could not confront it before; it was so simple. We need air! The smoke hovered over the dragon and put her to sleep.
Where is the exit? The smoke searched the house, traveling upstairs to the bedroom. It went under the bed and the ant-city was there. It entered the fields of his sentence; the hole, he and the clown dug, had closed.
Trapped under, huh? No. I have to visit Mr. Dilwash. We have things to talk over. The smoke left the house and onto the streets of the night, searching for the target's location.
It ventured upon the site of his death in the other worlds. The field of reality shifted between the other worlds. All-reality spoke.
You live in my mind. You were gifted with parts of me, intelligence and willpower. You co-create a sliver of consciousness in me, keep the laws my son. There is truly only one narrow way. Do not abandon what is righteous and good. There's been a split, and you only have until morning to fix it.
Reality shifted, and the smoke was inside in a prison cell, number twenty-three.
A man, alone in his cell bed, under the thin prison sheets, tossed and turned, as if shaken by invisible beings.
“Die Willis! Die Willis! Die Willis!” The three sang as they beat Dale.
“I'm not Willis! Stop it! I-it's Dale! It's Dale!”
“Rip the mask off, Frandice.”
“Ha-yah!”
“No! Stop! D-don't pul-my-fac-
“He's bleeding!”
“It's one of those human programmed killer-clones! Who would of thought he had the money? Kill it!”
“We can fly! We can fly!” One cockroach said. The rest of the group in the vault kept quiet and looked away from the one.
“C'mon! We have to get out of here! We can fly! Soar! Soar!”
The nearest cockroach punched the vocal one; it dropped and the others went over to stomp it to death.
Dis-Jud-Fuzz could not fit through the hole in the stone wall mortared with human brains. It stuck in an arm, grasping for anything. I've guided Willis his whole life, I don't see why he hates me so much. I've given him structure so that he could live a sensible life, not that of a wild beast, but he thinks it is tyranny. He wants to destroy me. I can be intrusive, but it's for correction. I'm here to provide service to all, it is from them I emerge as the appointed ruler. I treat everyone the same, but not everyone appreciates me the same. Everyone expects me to be great all the time, but they don't want to hear, I can only become what they create me to be; they don't know they have power, and they gave it to me, and I've done good to hide this so that I continue to rule. They don't know the greatness and power in them does not come from the merits of their being, but of the all-reality.
It's fingers scratched the door into the vault.
It's a good thing most are so delusional, they can not see what is before them! Yes, they deserve to remain under me, I need their life energy to live. I have my own needs to meet, and through them, I will live on. Like Willis here. It found the doorknob and opened the door. Try all he can, my empire is like no other ever seen before, it's been here since the fall of man. I am the adversary and protector.
The remaining seven cockroaches glanced at the door. A large gorilla hand peered in, it's fingers attempting to grow.
“We don't have enough bodies to get us out of here. We have to change course!”
“What feed our selves to the gorilla hand? You think there's way out? This is it, we've come to our end.”
“We tried everything we could, we should prepare to die in peace.”
“I guess you're right, we're stuck here.”
One cockroach, silent and standing on all-legs, eyes fixed on Adira's corpse, lifted it's gaze to the cut tubes. The blue substance dripped on the floor. It had a sort of glow to it, a smell of rotten leafs. The goo held it's attention and called it to taste.
The cockroach went over, and took a sample. The jaws clamped together repeatedly, the lower portion of it's body trembled, and it's eyes glowed blue.
“Hey, what are you doing? What's the matter with you? Stand up right!”
The cockroach's head spun backwards. A high pitched screech, and the cockroach jumped at them. It knocked them over, beat them senseless, and fed them to the gorilla hand. It scaled the wall and up and out the hole it went.
They weren't cockroaches, how could forget their own abilities? I can climb anything! It closed the vault door, and climbed the dirt walls up to the field. They had stupid ideas, like that of a human….that is what they thought they truly were. They stood on two legs like humans, but they were only fooling themselves. It wasn't a conscious thought pattern, but it was there, underneath all the hype and jazz. It was the real cause for the urge to leave, not because they were real cockroaches with honor and integrity and wanted to avenge Adira's and our general's death. They said empty words just to be a part of something greater, so that they could use it for their own purposes of becoming something they are not.
And that is why they are dead now.
The cockroach looked around it's surroundings. The secret city was deserted, only a gust of wind made it's presents noticed. It left the field, and wandered the streets.
They were obsessed with one idea, flight, escape, when the answer was in them. Well, who am I to judge? I was one of them too. I stood on my hind-legs, and I wanted to fly out. They were so fast to know the answer, they didn't allow independent thought. How easy it was getting carried away with fantasies.
The historical records building intrigued the lone cockroach to enter. The place was packed with bookshelves filled by old books. The bookshelf before it was the family records, the end of it too far to see.
I wonder if the cut tubes caused this desolation. I took a taste of the blue goo, and it was as if I had been waken from a deep sleep. It gave me a jumpstart that I didn't know I needed! It's eyes glowed brighter, and a book fell off the top shelf. It landed on the floor, opened to pages 149 and 148.
A picture of the cockroach, with glowing blue eyes and all, was formatted above a series of paragraphs.
That's me. It peered in closer. That's me.
Family tree. Twenty children and four wives. What is going on here? I'm home? Am I still sleeping? It says I left for war, and never returned. The economy collapsed, the infrastructure failed, and they all died at home. I knew I had a family, but the war and everything else had boggled my memories. Twenty children and four wives all dead.
I had forgotten about them and felt no suffering, but now I remember. I remember now. They were the reason I lived for. They brought joy and happiness to my heart. They were the ones I fought to protect. They gave life meaning and hope.
Oh how we need each other, we don't realize it going about our businesses, in our own worlds. We can't live without others, we are stitched together by this experience called life. We must cherish and celebrate our relationships when we can, or when their time to go comes, we won't have those memories.
It's too late for me, and that's my fault. I'm a simple cockroach and I will start over again. The cockroach closed the book and put it back in it's place. I can't stay here though, I must move forward. It exited the building and left the secret city behind, on an adventure to find some safe starting spot.
“There's a new sheriff in town, Dale.” The head attached to the name-tag said. “You only needed to obey, but the sinful nature had it's throne in your temple where you worshiped day and night.”
“Who the fuck's talking? Kitty?” Frandice placed the bloody face-mask over her face, and threw a finger at the black cat.
“It's another one of Willis' contraptions! It's the talking clown head!” Clorus jumped towards the cat.
It rushed forward, pounced off the corpse and scratched her right eye. Milly grabbed the tail and bashed it on the wall. Hiss and the claws dug into her hand.
“Hold it still!” Frandice snatched up a chair and threw it.
Milly collapsed. The kitty sped out the door.
Frandice ran out into the hallway.
Someone had heard the commotion. Coming up the stairs of the apartment complex, armed Officer Willis Malinny and the squadron rose to the occasion. The law claims all on it's own time.
The door to the last floor opened, and they moved in quick.
Out of a corner in the hallway, a black cat jingled towards them.
“Willis! I will kill you!” Frandice ran out into the open, grim mask on display. “Police?”
“Hands up, get on the ground!”
“Willis! You sonofabitch! You can't fool me, I'm smarter than you.” Frandice kept running.
“Get on the ground!”
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
Muzzle flash. Shells hit the floor. Frandice was no more.
“There's two left.” Jimmy said, the black cat rubbing against the officer's boots.
“We got a code 4, talking cat and crazy women. We're gonna need the cleaners and energy-busters.” Willis Malinny spoke into his radio. “The dreamscape is going to be ours, and we're not letting them take it away again. This is a good day, boys.”
TO BE CONTINUED.........
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