A Heart In Two

By C. R. Merz

INT. RESEARCH OFFICE - NIGHT
Two large desks support a chemistry station and a computer. The computer screen illuminates SAMUEL, 30’s, lab coat. Samuel leans his head against his palm.

SAMUEL
This is an unsolvable equation, why am I always at the center of it?

ROBERT, 30’s, scrubs, knocks on the open door.

ROBERT
Still working on the crazy world-changing invention, Sam?

SAMUEL
I wouldn’t use "working" as a descriptor in this scenario.

Robert slaps his hand on the desk and hunches over to see the monitor.

ROBERT
Sam, this is some next-level tech, why haven’t you released it yet?

SAMUEL
Something just feels unfinished; it’s not good enough. I can’t seem to find the answer. Maybe I should just scrap the whole project.

ROBERT
What's with the pity party? You’re a genius; you can figure it out. It just might take a little extra time.

SAMUEL
That’s what they said about the last invention, and look where that got me.

Robert arises and paces.

ROBERT
As long as I have known you, you have been a brilliant mind and have created things most could only dream of.
(rubs his face)
So why do you insist on belittling yourself?

Samuel types on the keyboard.

ROBERT
One mistake doesn’t mean that you just hang up the towel. We are inventors, and failure is kind of our thing.

SAMUEL
Why should I be the one to release something that could save the world? That weight crushed me last time, and I failed Robert—and I failed big.

ROBERT
Are you listening to yourself, Sam? Save the world. No failure could possibly be big enough to justify not saving the world.

Samuel focuses on the computer.

ROBERT
Do I need to remind you that the “crushing failure” last time led to the discovery of a permanently renewable source of energy?

Samuel smashes his fist against the desk.

SAMUEL
But how many died to develop that technology, all because of my lack of foresight?

ROBERT
Sam, is this still about Anna? You know you can’t keep holding yourself responsible for that. No one could have possibly known that outcome.

Samuel slides lower into his chair.

SAMUEL
That outcome was preventable. Just look at this diagram—it spells it out.
(Voice quivers)
How many inventors can say they have blood on their hands, Robert?

Robert stands with arms crossed.

SAMUEL
Even more than that, how many can say that blood is from the one they loved, the one they promised to protect, their reason for living?

ROBERT
We could pore over our shortcomings for years, Sam. Agonizing over possible outcomes would take a lifetime.

Samuel laughs.

SAMUEL
Look at you, giving me philosophical advice. Where was that insight when Anna died?

Robert whips the chair around.

ROBERT
Yes, you have blood on your hands, but we all do. All of us should have seen the signs.

Samuel stands up, throwing his research notes on the floor.

SAMUEL
When will it be enough, Robert? Don’t you think I have given enough? Enough of my time, enough of my life, enough of the ones I love for others' sake.

Robert paces.

ROBERT
I get it, losing Anna was hard, and more than that, it was heartbreaking. But it wasn’t just you who went through those things; we all did.

Samuel slaps his chest.

SAMUEL
It was my job to cut the power when things went haywire, but I didn’t because of the potential to save others' lives. I gave up everything for other people; now I’m done.

Robert grasps Samuel’s shoulders.

ROBERT
Anna would want you to continue to save lives; that’s why she loved you, Sam.

Samuel pushes Robert away.

SAMUEL
Don’t you dare bring Anna into this—she was my wife, not yours. How could you possibly know what she wanted?

ROBERT
She was my sister, Samuel. I loved her just as much as you did. I grieved just like you when she was taken from us, but how does resting in the grief solve anything?

SAMUEL
So you think she was taken from us, and who took her, Robert? Me? Was I the one who robbed you of your sister?

ROBERT
Sam, you know I didn’t mean it that wa—

SAMUEL
--Just leave, Robert. I am done here.

ROBERT
Sammy, you can’t just quit like this; people are looking to you for answers.

SAMUEL
I am done sacrificing everything for others. Look to someone else. Now get out of my office.

Robert looks at the research.

ROBERT
I thought you were going to be someone Anna could be proud of, someone worthy of her love. I guess I was wrong.

Robert storms out of the room. Samuel flops down on his chair and looks up at the ceiling light. Samuel whips his hands over his face.

SAMUEL
Anna, what would you have me do?

Samuel looks at the photo on his desk.

SAMUEL
I always hated it when he was right. You’re probably rolling over in your grave.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT
Robert walks past Samuel’s office and looks inside.

Samuel picks up the research notes, sets them on the desk, and begins working on them.

INT. RESEARCH OFFICE - NIGHT
Robert enters the room and sits down a box of papers. Robert pats Samuel on the back.

ROBERT
I guess Anna was right to believe in you after all, even if you’re a stubborn jackass.

Robert’s Renewal

By C.R. Merz

Just a few more moments and I would be off to the dinner date I had so meticulously planned weeks in advance. As I tidied up the remainder of my inventory into its designated space, my manager walked in as he usually did to inspect my progress.

“Impeccable work as ever Robert,” he said.

“Thanks, boss, I was hoping to leave a touch early,” I said smirking.

“About that,” he paused. “I am going to need you to stay late, our closer called in,” Tim said somberly.

I stood there looking at him for what felt like a year.

“Are you serious Tim? You know I’ve been planning this date for weeks,” I huffed.

“I’m sorry Rob, I just can’t close this store by myself, and you always deliver exceptional work,” Tim said.

“Man, I can’t believe this,” I stated, pacing.

“Look, with the celebration being today I will even close early. Can you push the date back an hour so we can take care of things here?” Tim begged.

“Tim, you owe me big time,” I said pointedly.

I walked to the breakroom of the store and opened my phone, which housed a squirrel sticker Tiffany had given me, each click of a number making my throat swell up in frustration.

“I’m so sorry Tiffany, something came up at work. I don’t think I can make it to dinner in time,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, we can just meet up at the Big Big Tree for the Black Cat Day festival tonight. It is totally fine,” she said.

I closed my phone to end the call and sat on the chair in the breakroom.

“I can’t believe that of all the days it had to be today,” I thought to myself.

It didn’t take long for Tim and me to get the store in working order. After carrying the last set of boxes to the back, I could see Tim poke his head around the corner.

“What do you want?” I said.

“I’ve got the rest of it Rob, so why don’t you head out now? Thanks for staying late,” Tim smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. I have some time before the celebration so I think I will use it to hit up the Fortune Teller Parlor,” I said mildly frustrated.

“Best of luck man,” Tim said as he locked the store's door behind me.

I got into the car and twisted the key, starting the engine. It was always best to let the old girl run for a bit, so I fidgeted with a squirrel plushy Tiffany had bought while the car warmed up.

“I wonder what her obsession is with these things,” I turned the squirrel around a few more times. “I guess they are kinda cute in a rodent sort of way,” I said amidst a chuckle.

 After what felt like ages, I was able to throw it in gear and headed towards the Fortune Teller. It was a pretty ride through town passing by the BBT Bar and some black cat shops celebrating the event. A few minutes later I arrived at the Fortune Teller Parlor. Looking at the clock I could see that I had an hour before I needed to be home to pick up the necklace she’d given me for the festival.

As I walked towards the Parlor, I could see a couple smiling and holding hands as they got into their car. I couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Tiffany could have been here if I wasn’t late.

“The show must go on,” I sighed.

I knocked on the door and a pleasant and joyous voice rang from inside the building.

“Come on in, my child,” Lauren chirped.

“Hey Lauren, I was hoping you had some good news for me after the rough day I had,”

“Hmm, late. That doesn't happen very often with you, son,” she said as she held my hand palm up.

“I never understand how you can tell all that by just looking at my hand,” I said in awe.

“A wise teller never reveals their secrets,” she said, winking. “What can I do for you, child?”

“Well, I was hoping you had some good news about making it to the festival tonight.”

Lauren looks at my hand more closely and takes a moment to ponder.

“Hmm,” she emoted.

I gulped, knowing that couldn't be good. My brain now racked through the possible horrible outcome she may have been about to predict.

“Ahh,” she exclaims. “An unwelcome sign betrays the outcome of tonight's events. Look beyond the exterior meaning and you will find comfort in the things in which you once found pain.”

I paused and looked at Lauren for a moment.

“Ok, what is that supposed to mean?” I inquire.

“It wouldn’t be much of a fortune if it were spelled out plainly, now would it?” she said, patting the top of my hand.

“Ugh, I wish it were simpler than that,” I said.

“The things we must learn to think deeply about often bestow upon us the greatest blessings, my dear,” she said, hushed but friendly in tone.

I tilted my head back and looked around the room. I noticed a squirrel filigree amidst the cats.

“Is that new?” I asked.

“Ah yes, the squirrels. Friendly little creatures who work hard and often signal renewal. I love their balance between duty and playfulness,” she cheerfully explained.

“I guess so,” I said while looking at my watch. “What? It's been over an hour?”

“Oh dear, time sure does fly,” she remarked.

“Thanks, Lauren, but I have to go,” I exclaimed.

I ran out of the Parlor and into my car.

“I don’t have time to let you warm up,” I said in a panic.

Fortunately, the car ran just fine. I drove as fast as legally possible to make it home. I need to have the necklace Tiffany bought me or I would look like a jerk.

I zipped into the driveway, slamming on the brakes. I turned the car off. As I jumped out of the car, I stumbled in my flustered state. I regained my balance and headed towards to front door as I flipped through my keys. Inserting the house key, I whipped open the door and made a beeline for the kitchen counter.

“I know it’s here somewhere…come on, come on…” I said, growing more desperate with each word.

Finally, underneath a pamphlet showing the Black Cat Day Celebration schedule which read End Ceremony beginning at 19:00, I located the chain necklace Tiffany had given me and put it around my neck hurriedly.

“Argh, 19:00 is in, like, 15 minutes. I can’t be late again,” I shouted.

I ran towards my door and whipped it open, then ran towards my car in the driveway. Two feet from the car I heard a shriek and squeak from below my feet.

“A squirrel!” I exclaimed.

Nearly stepping on the creature, I shuffled quickly to avoid it, only to be chewed out by the furry little beast.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this,” I scoffed.

After regaining my balance, I jumped into my car and inserted the key, twisting it with vigor.

Click and then nothing. I twisted the key again, and a click was all I could hear.

“AHH,” I screamed and slammed my hands against the wheel.

My mind began to race. “How am I supposed to make it in time? That’s nearly a 20-minute walk...”

The squirrel jumped on the hood of my sad, dead vehicle. I poked my head out the window and chastised the squirrel.

“Get out of here, you rodent,” I snapped.

The squirrel again chewed me out before hopping away. I kept a close eye on it, making sure it didn’t return. As I followed the squirrel with my eyes, I noticed a sign that read Spring Special Segway Rentals starting at $19.99.

“That’s it,” I exuberantly stated. The segway rental store near the Fortune Telling Parlor was only a five-minute minute run from my house.

I ran as fast as I could and managed to make it there in three minutes. Sweat pouring and through puffed breaths, I made my way to the counter for the rental.

“One segway as quick as you could, please,” I requested.

“Of course, let me just run the rental papers,” the cashier smiled.

The wait felt agonizing. Looking around, I noticed the cashier wearing a squirrel pin on her lapel.

“These squirrels with be the death of me,” I thought.

“Alright my dear, the paperwork is now done. Yours will be the first on the right,” she said as she handed me my set of keys. “Wait dear, you may want t--”

I was already on my way out before she could finish the sentence. I saddled up the segway and headed full throttle towards the celebration. Looking down at my watch I could see the time was 18:55.

“I am so close, only about two--,” my ramblings were interrupted by a low screeching sound. As I looked down the battery gauge turned red, and the image of a sad face appeared on the screen followed by the words low charge please connect to the charger.

“Seriously,” I huffed. “I guess I’m running.”

I could now see the top of the tree, which invigorated my cadence. Nearer I drew to the top of the hill, sensing the commotion of the celebration above. As I crossed the top of the peak the rumblings of the crowd fell to a dull murmur. Troves of people were now moving past me.

“Did I make it too late?” I somberly said.

I frantically looked through the crowd in an effort to spot Tiffany but to no avail. As the crowd poured past me, I again looked at my watch, the time reading 19:10. No one remained at the celebration.

“It’s only me.” My voice began to waver. “You’re late again,”

I reached to grab my chest. My grip clutched the chain necklace Tiffany bought me. It snapped with a metallic click.

“Damn it, not only do you break your promises, but you break gifts too!” Tears began to well up in my eyes as I looked at the broken chain on the ground.

“You idiot,” I stammered through tears.

“Who, me?” an all too familiar voice chimed.

I quickly turned around to look at where the voice came from. A moon-wrapped silhouette glided with great elegance from behind the tree.

“I figured you would be late. Good thing my fortune was right,” she teased.

I could see a necklace in her hands that held the image of a squirrel.

“Renewal, huh?” I smiled through red eyes.

The Puzzle

By C.R. Merz

A bright red door barred entry to the small yet eloquent hotel room; my hand reached for the keys held in my pocket, shaking in exquisite delight as my plans were coming to fruition. My rough fingers – from my days of work as a mechanic – bristled into my dress pants as they swam nearer to the keys, dry rough skin holding onto the neatly-stitched fibers. Finally, I grasped them and slowly moved the keys toward the door handle, jagged grinding squeaks resounded as the key slid into the mechanism.

A shoof, twist, and then a click released the metal bolt from its resting place. The neon blue glow of a sign reading “No Vacancy” pierced the night sky, illuminating a set of beautiful mattresses covered by what must have been imported cotton. Between the two sat a lavishly wrapped gift upon a deep oak end table. Tonight, my dream would become a reality.

“Ahh, it’s so beautiful.” Her voice, which most would consider angelic, grated against the very fiber of my being.

“Anything for you. You have been the best secretary a boss could ask for.” I wanted to puke in my mouth, that would be a better taste than the filthy lie I had just told.

“I also have something special – look at the end table.”

“You shouldn’t have.” She slithered her arms around me in an unbearable embrace. As she cantered towards the present, I couldn’t help but brush her putrid scent off my arms.

“Go ahead, open it.”

“Is it finally going to happen? Are you really doing this now?”

As I smirked, she seated herself on the bed and began tearing the wrapping off the neatly packaged box. I followed. It was as if a ghoul had found a fresh corpse and had been starving for months. Jagged sections of paper began to fly over the floor as this creature ripped the helpless wrapping apart.

 “What is it?” I remained silent. “A puzzle box?” Her query hastened my jubilee.

The box was a reddish copper with filigree reaching around a six-digit combination lock, as if to say its secret was eloquently kept. As she slid her fingers over the dials, her confusion was satisfyingly delectable.

“Am I supposed to guess?”

“Why don’t we play 20 questions? It’s one of your favorite games, right?”

“Oh, let’s. Am I a date?”

“Yes.”

“I know you so well.” She leaned in for a kiss, I wanted to retreat, but the taste of justice was worth the cost.

“Did the date happen before or after I met you?”

“After.”

She walked her hands up my arms, “Was it…that day?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and enter the passcode. I am sure you know that date all too well.”

She twisted each dial one at a time. Click, click – the first set of digits read “07.” The second two digits slid into place with excruciatingly slow execution: “14.”

“Should I say yes before I enter this last set of numbers?” Her question made my skin crawl. A cold shiver of expectancy crept over me at her query. I was almost there. I couldn’t give away the truth yet.

“Only if you mean it.”

“Ahh, yes, yes, yes a thousand times yes.”

“Just open the box!” I stated, interrupting her celebration.

Click, click, and the last two numbers read “19.”

“July 14, 2019. This is the week after we first met.” She hummed.

“The most important part of our relationship began then.” Shaking with anticipation, I couldn’t wait for the truth to be revealed.

The puzzle box’s latch clanked open, and the filigree swirled as it began to untether the metallic shape revealing a piece of paper.

“It’s a picture.” Her voice was shaking. “What is this?”

“It’s a check. But this check has my signature on it. One that I never wrote. And it’s from July 14.” Her eyes dilated realizing what was in front of her. Tears began to drip down her traitorous face.

“You see, what’s unusual about the check is that it was deposited from my company directly into an account owned by…you.”

“Oh, my god.” She gasped.

Red and blue lights illuminated her face and her tears turned into shrieks befitting that of a thieving banshee. The door flew open. Two large officers grabbed her by each arm and put her in handcuffs. The silhouette of a creature who deserved no better end began to blur amidst the pulsing lights, and all I could see was red. My dream had come true – getting even had never felt so good.

Magic’s End

By C.R. Merz

As I approach the Edonian Corp. building, I see Jeremy and Anya waiting for me. They must have been nervous too; they never got anywhere before I did.

“Look who decided to show up early,” I tease.

“Just shut up and listen. I found a pathway that leads you straight to the office. Take this map. It outlines a straight shot.” Jeremy hands me a marked paper.

“I’ll take the tethered broadcaster. Good luck, Orin,” Anya says.

Anya and Jeremy head towards the doors. I see Anya pretend to fall and Jeremy rushes to her side, yelling for help. The guard at the entrance runs towards them. I sneak by and close the door behind me.

The inner design of the building is immaculate but covered in pipes all over the walls. My heart is racing which makes it hard to focus.

“I’ve never broken into anything, what happens if I get caught?” I think to myself. “But I must continue on, the world needs to know what’s happening here.”

The pipes are made of clear glass, and I can see the whisps of magic energy flowing through them. As I continue onward, I see tankards of vast amounts of magic staged throughout.

“What could possibly use this much magic?” I whisper.

I hear footsteps echo nearer to my location, so I dash into the room and hide behind a tankard. The two guards come to a stop, and I can faintly overhear their conversation.

“Sensor One said we had some movement in this sector, must have been a mouse,” the first guard says.

“Yeah, I feel like we get that at least once a day. Say, did you hear the rumors about Atlee trying to gain immortality?” The second guard says.

“Immortality,” I think. Just then I realize I forgot to check to be sure my magic is still tethered to the broadcaster. I try my best to focus but my heightened emotions scramble my magic tethering to the broadcaster.

“Shut up, we’re not supposed to talk about that, you could get us imprisoned,” the first guard says jabbing the other with his elbow.

I begin to calm my nerves allowing calmness to bring stability to my magic flow. I can feel the tether strengthen to the broadcaster, and I sigh.

“Did you hear that,” the second guard says.

I whip my hand to my mouth, feeling my emotions ramp up again. They’ve got me, all this is over because I had to sigh in the middle of a stealth mission.

“No, and besides this little excursion put us behind on lunch. You know how strict Atlee is with our shift transfers. It’s a mouse remember, that is what the report will say,” The first guard says with mild irritation.

The now-hastened footfalls of the guards continue to dwindle until the sound is gone. I remove my hand from my mouth and try to steady my nerves, reigniting the steady tether of magic.

“Let’s not do that again,” I whisper.

After I gather my bearings, I take another look at the map. It looks like the office is just down the hallway. I poke my head out from behind the tankard just enough the see around the corner. There are no guards to be found. I follow the reddish carpet around the bend for about twenty more feet.

“It has to be right here,” I think to myself.

I look up from the map and feet in front of me stands a door. Gold filigree stretches over a deep dark wood, the name Atlee prominently stamped into the wood. I reach for the handle, but it flutters away as the door swings wide.

“Orin. Good of you to finally drop in,” Atlee hisses. “You thought your clumsy friend could stumble upon the map so easily?”

I remain silent.

“No matter, you’re here now,” he sneers.

“I know, Atlee. You’re planning to siphon our magic power and use it to control us.”

“My dear, unimaginative boy. I don’t need magic to control the masses. I simply have to make their lives easier, and they worship me. There is a piece of Edonian tech in every house across the country. Simpler life is all it took for them to swear their allegiance.”

“If control isn’t your goal, what does stealing magic get you in the long run?” I press, hoping the guard's slip-up will pay off and I can catch it on camera this time.

“Control is just part of the picture,” he snaps.

I close my eyes, focusing on the magic tether, noticing a still faint connection.

“What makes you think that we are willing to give up our magic without a fight?”

“Look around you! I already have it all.”

A set of curtains fall, revealing a huge storehouse holding what must be centuries of magic.

“Evolution,” Atlee sings. “Control only lasts as long as I hold power. To keep you ants from pushing back, I must become immortal. All it takes is to sacrifice the magic of the world, absorbing it into myself. I’ll become a literal god!”

“And you think by washing away our history, our heritage, and our birthright you can become this so-called god? Even without magic, we will remember the past!”

“But for how long? I can slowly write it out of the history books, remove families that speak of heritage,” he says as he picks up a book and begins to tear out the pages one by one.

“I can even outlaw the talk of magic altogether; it will take just a few generations. No one will know it ever existed.” He sets the desecrated book on his desk.

Atlee turns on his monitor. The realization of what I have done dawns as he sees the feed from my broadcast displayed on the screen in real-time.

“I always had a feeling your fake persona was a veil for evil intentions, now the whole world does too.”

A Lost Ambition

By: C.R. Merz

I knock on the door three times per the instructions on the paper.  The door slit whips open. Two beady eyes peer through.

“What do you want?” The voice crackling.

“Umm…”

“We don’t sell ‘ums’ here, son.”

“I’m supposed to get help from Dr. Valintine. My name is Michael.”

He slams the slit closed. I hear numerous metallic slides and twists. The door bangs open. Before me is a thin pale man. Arms wide open, he chants, “Come on in. We’ve got lollipops…minus the ‘lolli’ and I suppose a little pop, but drugs, yeah, I’ve got those.”

“Whoa, I’m looking for Dr. Valintine, the expert in latent traumatic memories.”

“Well…why didn’t you say so?” He whistles a tune as he walks me through the entryway. In the middle of an ambitious yet primitive laboratory, a crude mechanical seat houses what appears to be some sort of digital enhanced goggles attached to an iron band. Cables ran to  motitors that lite the dark room with a pale green hue. He yanks me into a seat and snaps wrist and ankle restraints on me.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

He sticks a cigarette in his mouth, saying nothing.

“I think you have the wro-”

He shoves a mouthguard between my teeth.

 “Bite down on this, son. Oh, and if you make it out alive, we can talk.  Name’s Valintine,” he says through a lit cigarette as he pulls the goggles over my face.

***

Black. No smell. No touch. No sound, as though my body were void of all senses. Terror and dread wash over. Was this all an elaborate rouse to steal my kidney? I might die here, alone. Forgotten.

The hair on my neck stands erect. A putrid stench, like nothing I’ve smelled before, wafts from behind. A voice hisses. “Excruciating isn’t it, to be left behind and forgotten.” The pause between phrases is agonizing. “I would know, after all, you don’t even remember me; we were close once.” I can feel the fingers of this mysterious specter dancing on my shoulder.

“Who? What are you?”

“So many questions. Why don’t you answer one for me first?” the voice taunts. “Why can't you ever complete what you’ve started, Michael?”

“W-what?”

“Tsk, tsk…always the quitter. You’re so good at it, you’ve even forgotten my name!”

“Please! I don’t recall anything.”

The voice says through sloppy growls, “That’s why you’re here.” He continues, “Because you’ve NEVER FINISHED ANYTHING.”

I recoil. Two hands grip me, turning me around. A partially decayed face with blue skin fills my vision, every tendon and gaping hole oozing black mucus. Worms and roaches crawl in and out of a void eye socket. Skin sloughs down a monstrous cheek, writhing as if the skin itself were in agony.

He speaks again, with flesh undulating up and down as maggots slithered through his decaying flesh. “You don’t honestly believe that we just wither away once forgotten?”

I try to speak. My mouth is fused shut.

His fingers brush against my now void face. “I didn’t say you could speak,” he snaps. Now pacing the monster hums “Ahh, where do I begin? How about the start?”

The creature speaks in my voice, from childhood. “I wanna be an astronaut, Mommy!” His voice returns momentarily, “Or how about this one? My personal favorite.” The voice now shifts to my adult voice, mocking me. “I am going to graduate college and get out of the slums! I won’t rot in the same villiage my parents did.” A hideous contrived smile now glints with festering rot. “My! You gave up on that one so quickly, didn’t you?”

He smirks again, muscles contracting through mottled flesh. He unhinges his jaw, forming an ellipsoidal void that can fit my entire being. Desperately I try to pull away, but the pull is inescapable as if the darkness within the creature holds magnetic properties. I am done for; this is where it ends. I try to muster my last scream; only muffled groans are perceptible. The creature’s mouth blankets my vision.

***

 Suddenly, Valintine flips my goggles up, pulling me back into the light. I gasp for air and my body convulses in chaotic rhythms.

Cigarette in hand, he points. “So, you give up on dreams?”

“W-what was?” I mutter through shallow breath.

The doctor takes a drag from his cigarette, “That? A little bit of this, a little bit of that. But mostly a nasty conglomerate of things you’ve given up on, manifested into one vindictive little bastard.”

“Why, so real?” Micheal Said Stammering.

“Well, that’s ‘cause it is. This sexy piece of equipment,” he slaps the chair, “allows the user to experience mental traumas as real beings. Yours, that’s one powerful S.O.B. I see dream specters quite often, but yours son, it’s on a whole new level.”

Smoke plumes upward. “Looks like you’ve given up on much. ‘Bout time to forgive yourself. That shit could eat you alive…quite literally.”