Post by Krähe on Dec 9, 2018 8:24:51 GMT -5
[Off Camera...for obvious reasons]
Jarring flashes of light and images flash behind my eyes like a bad movie reel. When did the sun get so bright, or is that just the lights? Why is everyone yelling? Am I the one yelling?
“Help someone FUCKING HELP ME! SHE CAN'T MOVE!”
Yeah that's me yelling, and there's all the blood. Why is there always so much blood in these nightmares, was there really this much in reality?
A slender broken body cradled to my chest, before it was pulled away, and I am left...empty. Once upon a time it was my small body that she cradled to her chest, but she can't move her arms.
Empty, the whole world has gone empty.
They swarm around me once they take her...checking me for injury. It must be all the blood, but the blood isn't mine. Most of it at least.
Pain slashes through my unconcious ripping a hole in my reality to reveal a different body straddling me. She asks for stories. Brodie always wants a story...even in my dreams it seems.
This time she wants HER story, but that isn't my story to tell, and I don't know all the chapters. Hell, right now I barely know my own story. It's all jagged fragments inside my broken dreams, but her sweet violence is nearly impossible to resist, so I give her bits that shine with HER in butchered verse.
Then with the teasing promise of peace she slipped away, and I slipped back into my old familiar jagged bits that I had exposed to her. Each word dragging me down the rabbit hole of all things better forgotten.
But oh was it better to have all those jagged bits than the eternal ache of the emptiness.
“You have to leave Zac, you have to go baby...They'll take care of me, but you have to go…I'm so proud of you.”
That voice, that calming voice once made everything alright, but now it's echo racks over me like barbs and hot coals. Flaying me and smother me with screams that were never heard.
Another voice whispered in echo of memory.
“Would your mother be proud of you?”
Yes Siberia, my mother is proud of me even when I fail so completely that it tears the world apart, and that destroyed me a long time ago.
The smell of sunshine and spice tickles my nose, as if the thought had summoned her. Then her soft touch shifts my nightmares once more, and for a moment I can breathe again...I truly am a bastard to bring even her memory into a place like this. Dragging her into my nightmares is sure to earn me a spot in Hell's VIP section, but I desperately soak in the warmth of her presence into my coldness anyways. Like sitting in the sunlight on a cold day.
Even I can only be so selfish though, so when the time comes I let the sunshine fade away.
Then I was back on that hospital floor, and everything was crumbling. If I could just shut out the lights, if I could just stop the yelling, if I could have stopped the bleeding, if I had just walked away...I could have fixed this.
But I failed.
Something stings me in the neck, and strong hands push and pull me. I never got to say I was sorry, before it all went black.
No going back. Sometimes you really can never go back home. Especially when you destroy it.
“Because I could not stop for Death, she kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality.”
The next time I woke up was in a car, and she was driving. Her brown eyes sparing me only a glance before they returned to the road. Vaguely I noted that she seemed tired, and that struck me as far more odd than waking up to Munin driving me off to parts unknown.
Then there was the silence.
It was heavy laying over us like a wet wool blanket, and even more so uncomfortable. I knew something was wrong, and then it began to come back to me.
Little by little, each horrifying piece after another, the puzzle started to come together in the silence of that car.
I broke and choked...I died.
And when I was done she passed me a pack of cigarettes and a water. I never asked where we were going. I didn't care.
“Buddy...awake?”
Am I awake? I fucking wish I knew.
A yellow balloon, a card, and someone feeling remorse for me?
Yeah, this is definitely a dream.
It's odd, even though this is just a dream...I wish I had more words to give him, but I just can't seem to hold onto them. They fly away like fireflies in the dark.
Flying away in the dark…
“Krähe…”
There she is again...that voice. I know that voice calling me back from the darkness again. She never seems to let me slip away completely. Maybe we really will continue this ride until eternity.
“Munin…”
Eyes managed to crack open, but were met with darkness and dim lights. The sound of machines and the smell of antiseptic filled his senses. The hospital.
“This a dream?” The words came out in a rough mumbled manner. He wasn't even sure it was his voice at first.
Her voice was unmistakable though even in the darkness, her chuckle a familiar caress to his mind.
“Maybe it's a dream...maybe it's not.” The voice moved closer to the side of his bed with the click of heels, and then she was there sliding into the chair beside him. Her exotic features made more striking in the soft blue light of a nearby monitor.
“Why...here?” Why couldn't he just get his mouth and mind to work like he wanted. He felt drugged...Munin was here. The chances of him being drugged, and not just dreaming, increased exponentially from her presence alone.
“You are here because I need you here, and it has been the best place for you to be...I know you hate it Z, but I need to crack you open just a little.”
Well dream or not that is bullshit, and he sure as hell didn't want to be in this hell hole of a bed.
“Leave?” He tried to make it sound more like a demand, but his raw voice had it coming out as a plee.
Vaguely he noticed the dull ache of distant pain. Desperately he tried to latch onto it like a lifeline, but he just couldn't seem to hold onto it. Suddenly the pain was slipping out of reach, and with it his thoughts.
“Not yet hun, but soon. Enjoy the lack of pain while it last, because tomorrow is a new day.”
I want the pain Mu...It let's me know I'm alive.
Those words never make it past my lips, as I am dragged back into darkness, and finally the dreams stop.
[Lights...Camera On...Reality]
A woody shrill pierced the silence and was quickly followed by grunting frustration. Then the sound of squeaky new shoes on a recently mopped floor.
A murky voice, sounding more and more human as it finally came completely clear, “It was almost as impossible to find a nurse’s dress that fit as it was to find you, buddy!”
Vision was still an issue, everything Krähe saw was blurry, but the voice-somehow familiar. Perhaps even trustworthy?
“Let me tell you man, this is not going down as planned. I spent the last hour handing out Jello®. But I’m here now! Everything’s going to be fine!”
The figure stopped at the equipment, standing back, presumably inspecting the tubes and leads from the monitors to Krähe’s body.
“Do you think any of these are, like, vital?”
Krähe was trying to find a voice which had not yet broken the silence.
Distracted, the figure turned to face Krähe, “Funny story, I infiltrated this place and saw like a dozen guys who are nurses. I could have just worn scrubs! Even the women are wearing scrubs. I had to go to a costume store for this, buuttt, I’m a sexy nurse, so it makes me feel better about myself!” the figure turns back to the monitors, “Eh, fuck it, what’s life without risks?”
The figure silenced all of the monitors and grasped all the wires in one fist and gave them all a good yank, ignoring the adhesive, hair, flesh, and everything else in between.
“Gotta tear them all away quick like a bandaid! Now, the next question is whether or not any of these fluids are actually keeping you alive. Hmmm. This looks like a saline drip and this stuff here… Hmm. Grape jelly? Not sure.”
It might have been nice if reality gently coaxed Krähe back into consciousness, but instead he got this. An impromptu wax job by a man dressed up as a sexy nurse. Gentle may have been preferable to most, but oddly enough this exactly what Krähe needed.
Grey eyes flew open and the promptly slammed shut once more with a guttural curse. The bright florescent lighting of the hospital felt like it had tried to literally sear Krähe's eyeballs from his head. Considering Krähe's opinion of the establishments he would probably insist that it was intentional.
“Jesus fucking Chriiist”
Reality hit him like a head on collision, and the experience was similar to that of a man coming of water starving for air. That feeling of burning lungs suddenly filling with air. It's the sweet pain that lets you know you're alive, and Krähe welcomed it with open arms.
Then he opened his eyes, and stared into the tasteful cosmetically enhanced eyes of Willie Pete. How the man had managed obtain that perfect mysterious smokey eye look was beyond Krähe, though he did have to admit of only to himself that it did add more depth to the man's brown eyes. One thing he knew for certain...
“There is no way this is a dream. My subconscious mind will not be responsible for this.” His voice was rough but clear and lucid, as his grey eyes began to examine the room around him.
His eyes paused briefly on the card and balloon with raised eyebrows, as if that were somehow more surprising than Pete in a sexy nurse outfit.
“This is a rescue mission!” Pete said, examining the tubes, “I hope none of these are a catheter. Ready?”
RIP!
Krähe let out a muffled concuffony of curses as all of the tubes were ripped free. Willie slapped a Spongebob Squarepants Band-Aid® on Krähe’s inner elbow, stopping the bleeding with its incredible absorbency.
“Sorry pal, I only look the part,” Willie pushed up a linen cart, “And here’s the bad news,”
“It gets worse?!” Krähe stammered…
Willie shifted his weight to the opposite hip in a very feminine way, “I can’t attest to the cleanliness of these sheets. Still, escaping with me is a fate greater than, well, whatever they have planned for you.”
Then it became a kind of wrestling match as Willie insisted on helping Krähe out of bed, attempting to cradle him, for the voyage over to the linen cart. Krähe fought it until he realized that his legs weren’t up for the trip and finally submitted. For a moment, Willie carried Krähe like he were his child and he felt ‘mama-bear’ courage immediately set in. With a thud, Krähe landed in the cart and Willie threw a sheet over the top of the cart.
“Ok, now we just gotta play it cool.”
As Willie pushed the cart to the door, one of the wheels decided to start squeaking, as if it were begging for attention.
“If it’s not a grocery cart, it’s a linen cart, I always get the bastard one with the bum wheel!”
Out into the hall they went, but Willie forgot to replace his mask, the one only narrowly hiding his beard. As they went, unsurprisingly, Willie began to gain attention. Unaware of his beard speaking volumes about his gender, Willie assumed it was the wheel gaining the attention.
“Wheels, right?” he said, in his best Miss Piggy voice, to a doctor as he pushed the cart by.
This was perhaps one of the most surrealistic moments of Krähe's life. Definitely in the top ten along with another instance that involved an icecream truck and a male gigolo in a banana suit, but despite how outlandish the situation was Krähe had never felt more awake, and more in need of a drink.
Willie looked over his shoulder and saw two big men in suits speaking with the doctor he passed. The doctor pointed and it was followed by two knowing looks from the big men in suits. Willie turned his attention forward and picked up the pace just a bit. Meanwhile, the bum wheel was starting to skid sideways down the hallway.
“Just a normal, everyday nurse walking down the hallway, nothing to see here…” Willie said aloud, mostly to himself.
The men in the suits started following Willie, matching his pace, and when Willie noticed the pursuit, he kicked off his high heels and firmed up an already white knuckle grip on the cart.
“Hold onto your butt!” Willie yelled as he started sprinting with the cart.
Immediately, the two men started sprinting as well, giving chase and calling after Willie, “The bearded lady! Stop!”
“It’s a good thing I shaved my legs, makes me more aerodynamic!” Willie said as he planted his feet, drifting the cart around a corner.
The sheet flew off the cart to reveal Krähe with wide eyes, looking up at his mascara clad bearded savior.
He glanced behind them to see the men in black chasing them through the sterile white halls. Then turned his eyes back to Pete with wild grin painfully tugging at his dry lips, followed by a reckless hoot of laughter.
“Pete you're one crazy fucker! Can't think of anyone else that could pull this off.”
“I’m not entirely sure I can, but your optimism is inspiring!”
Before another word could be said, the bum wheel finally gave in, folding over and breaking loose. The wheel flew beneath Willie’s feet, causing him to slip. The men in suits were dangerously close, but more importantly, they were nearing a plate glass window ahead. Willie got his feet underneath him long enough to realize what was about to happen. He lept into the cart with Krähe right before the cart crashed through the window.
“Hold on!”
And there, both Willie and Krähe, in the cart, flew through the air as they navigated a two story drop. There was a moment, admittedly, where the two shared a short embrace as they both screamed bloody murder, right before crash landing in the back of a dump truck en route out of the parking lot. The two men in suits stopped at the window, looking out to see the wreckage in the dump truck as it drove away.
“Are...are we dead? Is this what being dead is like?” Willie groaned, not wanting to move.
Krähe sat up, wide eyed and covered in filthy linens, with an unwanted view up Willie’s skirt.
“More like hell?” Krähe guessed.
Willie finally sat up, proud of himself, “I think we did it! I think we escaped. Didn’t go exactly to plan, but close enough!”
Krähe slowly sat up as well despite his bodies protest. His body wasn't hurting him nearly as much as he thought it would, but then again he had no idea how long he had been out.
“Close enough for me. Now to find pants, and a drink...Not precisely in that order.” With a rough chuckle Krähe fell back against the questionable sheets and enjoyed the ride.
Jarring flashes of light and images flash behind my eyes like a bad movie reel. When did the sun get so bright, or is that just the lights? Why is everyone yelling? Am I the one yelling?
“Help someone FUCKING HELP ME! SHE CAN'T MOVE!”
Yeah that's me yelling, and there's all the blood. Why is there always so much blood in these nightmares, was there really this much in reality?
A slender broken body cradled to my chest, before it was pulled away, and I am left...empty. Once upon a time it was my small body that she cradled to her chest, but she can't move her arms.
Empty, the whole world has gone empty.
They swarm around me once they take her...checking me for injury. It must be all the blood, but the blood isn't mine. Most of it at least.
Pain slashes through my unconcious ripping a hole in my reality to reveal a different body straddling me. She asks for stories. Brodie always wants a story...even in my dreams it seems.
This time she wants HER story, but that isn't my story to tell, and I don't know all the chapters. Hell, right now I barely know my own story. It's all jagged fragments inside my broken dreams, but her sweet violence is nearly impossible to resist, so I give her bits that shine with HER in butchered verse.
Then with the teasing promise of peace she slipped away, and I slipped back into my old familiar jagged bits that I had exposed to her. Each word dragging me down the rabbit hole of all things better forgotten.
But oh was it better to have all those jagged bits than the eternal ache of the emptiness.
“You have to leave Zac, you have to go baby...They'll take care of me, but you have to go…I'm so proud of you.”
That voice, that calming voice once made everything alright, but now it's echo racks over me like barbs and hot coals. Flaying me and smother me with screams that were never heard.
Another voice whispered in echo of memory.
“Would your mother be proud of you?”
Yes Siberia, my mother is proud of me even when I fail so completely that it tears the world apart, and that destroyed me a long time ago.
The smell of sunshine and spice tickles my nose, as if the thought had summoned her. Then her soft touch shifts my nightmares once more, and for a moment I can breathe again...I truly am a bastard to bring even her memory into a place like this. Dragging her into my nightmares is sure to earn me a spot in Hell's VIP section, but I desperately soak in the warmth of her presence into my coldness anyways. Like sitting in the sunlight on a cold day.
Even I can only be so selfish though, so when the time comes I let the sunshine fade away.
Then I was back on that hospital floor, and everything was crumbling. If I could just shut out the lights, if I could just stop the yelling, if I could have stopped the bleeding, if I had just walked away...I could have fixed this.
But I failed.
Something stings me in the neck, and strong hands push and pull me. I never got to say I was sorry, before it all went black.
No going back. Sometimes you really can never go back home. Especially when you destroy it.
“Because I could not stop for Death, she kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality.”
The next time I woke up was in a car, and she was driving. Her brown eyes sparing me only a glance before they returned to the road. Vaguely I noted that she seemed tired, and that struck me as far more odd than waking up to Munin driving me off to parts unknown.
Then there was the silence.
It was heavy laying over us like a wet wool blanket, and even more so uncomfortable. I knew something was wrong, and then it began to come back to me.
Little by little, each horrifying piece after another, the puzzle started to come together in the silence of that car.
I broke and choked...I died.
And when I was done she passed me a pack of cigarettes and a water. I never asked where we were going. I didn't care.
“Buddy...awake?”
Am I awake? I fucking wish I knew.
A yellow balloon, a card, and someone feeling remorse for me?
Yeah, this is definitely a dream.
It's odd, even though this is just a dream...I wish I had more words to give him, but I just can't seem to hold onto them. They fly away like fireflies in the dark.
Flying away in the dark…
“Krähe…”
There she is again...that voice. I know that voice calling me back from the darkness again. She never seems to let me slip away completely. Maybe we really will continue this ride until eternity.
“Munin…”
Eyes managed to crack open, but were met with darkness and dim lights. The sound of machines and the smell of antiseptic filled his senses. The hospital.
“This a dream?” The words came out in a rough mumbled manner. He wasn't even sure it was his voice at first.
Her voice was unmistakable though even in the darkness, her chuckle a familiar caress to his mind.
“Maybe it's a dream...maybe it's not.” The voice moved closer to the side of his bed with the click of heels, and then she was there sliding into the chair beside him. Her exotic features made more striking in the soft blue light of a nearby monitor.
“Why...here?” Why couldn't he just get his mouth and mind to work like he wanted. He felt drugged...Munin was here. The chances of him being drugged, and not just dreaming, increased exponentially from her presence alone.
“You are here because I need you here, and it has been the best place for you to be...I know you hate it Z, but I need to crack you open just a little.”
Well dream or not that is bullshit, and he sure as hell didn't want to be in this hell hole of a bed.
“Leave?” He tried to make it sound more like a demand, but his raw voice had it coming out as a plee.
Vaguely he noticed the dull ache of distant pain. Desperately he tried to latch onto it like a lifeline, but he just couldn't seem to hold onto it. Suddenly the pain was slipping out of reach, and with it his thoughts.
“Not yet hun, but soon. Enjoy the lack of pain while it last, because tomorrow is a new day.”
I want the pain Mu...It let's me know I'm alive.
Those words never make it past my lips, as I am dragged back into darkness, and finally the dreams stop.
[Lights...Camera On...Reality]
A woody shrill pierced the silence and was quickly followed by grunting frustration. Then the sound of squeaky new shoes on a recently mopped floor.
A murky voice, sounding more and more human as it finally came completely clear, “It was almost as impossible to find a nurse’s dress that fit as it was to find you, buddy!”
Vision was still an issue, everything Krähe saw was blurry, but the voice-somehow familiar. Perhaps even trustworthy?
“Let me tell you man, this is not going down as planned. I spent the last hour handing out Jello®. But I’m here now! Everything’s going to be fine!”
The figure stopped at the equipment, standing back, presumably inspecting the tubes and leads from the monitors to Krähe’s body.
“Do you think any of these are, like, vital?”
Krähe was trying to find a voice which had not yet broken the silence.
Distracted, the figure turned to face Krähe, “Funny story, I infiltrated this place and saw like a dozen guys who are nurses. I could have just worn scrubs! Even the women are wearing scrubs. I had to go to a costume store for this, buuttt, I’m a sexy nurse, so it makes me feel better about myself!” the figure turns back to the monitors, “Eh, fuck it, what’s life without risks?”
The figure silenced all of the monitors and grasped all the wires in one fist and gave them all a good yank, ignoring the adhesive, hair, flesh, and everything else in between.
“Gotta tear them all away quick like a bandaid! Now, the next question is whether or not any of these fluids are actually keeping you alive. Hmmm. This looks like a saline drip and this stuff here… Hmm. Grape jelly? Not sure.”
It might have been nice if reality gently coaxed Krähe back into consciousness, but instead he got this. An impromptu wax job by a man dressed up as a sexy nurse. Gentle may have been preferable to most, but oddly enough this exactly what Krähe needed.
Grey eyes flew open and the promptly slammed shut once more with a guttural curse. The bright florescent lighting of the hospital felt like it had tried to literally sear Krähe's eyeballs from his head. Considering Krähe's opinion of the establishments he would probably insist that it was intentional.
“Jesus fucking Chriiist”
Reality hit him like a head on collision, and the experience was similar to that of a man coming of water starving for air. That feeling of burning lungs suddenly filling with air. It's the sweet pain that lets you know you're alive, and Krähe welcomed it with open arms.
Then he opened his eyes, and stared into the tasteful cosmetically enhanced eyes of Willie Pete. How the man had managed obtain that perfect mysterious smokey eye look was beyond Krähe, though he did have to admit of only to himself that it did add more depth to the man's brown eyes. One thing he knew for certain...
“There is no way this is a dream. My subconscious mind will not be responsible for this.” His voice was rough but clear and lucid, as his grey eyes began to examine the room around him.
His eyes paused briefly on the card and balloon with raised eyebrows, as if that were somehow more surprising than Pete in a sexy nurse outfit.
“This is a rescue mission!” Pete said, examining the tubes, “I hope none of these are a catheter. Ready?”
RIP!
Krähe let out a muffled concuffony of curses as all of the tubes were ripped free. Willie slapped a Spongebob Squarepants Band-Aid® on Krähe’s inner elbow, stopping the bleeding with its incredible absorbency.
“Sorry pal, I only look the part,” Willie pushed up a linen cart, “And here’s the bad news,”
“It gets worse?!” Krähe stammered…
Willie shifted his weight to the opposite hip in a very feminine way, “I can’t attest to the cleanliness of these sheets. Still, escaping with me is a fate greater than, well, whatever they have planned for you.”
Then it became a kind of wrestling match as Willie insisted on helping Krähe out of bed, attempting to cradle him, for the voyage over to the linen cart. Krähe fought it until he realized that his legs weren’t up for the trip and finally submitted. For a moment, Willie carried Krähe like he were his child and he felt ‘mama-bear’ courage immediately set in. With a thud, Krähe landed in the cart and Willie threw a sheet over the top of the cart.
“Ok, now we just gotta play it cool.”
As Willie pushed the cart to the door, one of the wheels decided to start squeaking, as if it were begging for attention.
“If it’s not a grocery cart, it’s a linen cart, I always get the bastard one with the bum wheel!”
Out into the hall they went, but Willie forgot to replace his mask, the one only narrowly hiding his beard. As they went, unsurprisingly, Willie began to gain attention. Unaware of his beard speaking volumes about his gender, Willie assumed it was the wheel gaining the attention.
“Wheels, right?” he said, in his best Miss Piggy voice, to a doctor as he pushed the cart by.
This was perhaps one of the most surrealistic moments of Krähe's life. Definitely in the top ten along with another instance that involved an icecream truck and a male gigolo in a banana suit, but despite how outlandish the situation was Krähe had never felt more awake, and more in need of a drink.
Willie looked over his shoulder and saw two big men in suits speaking with the doctor he passed. The doctor pointed and it was followed by two knowing looks from the big men in suits. Willie turned his attention forward and picked up the pace just a bit. Meanwhile, the bum wheel was starting to skid sideways down the hallway.
“Just a normal, everyday nurse walking down the hallway, nothing to see here…” Willie said aloud, mostly to himself.
The men in the suits started following Willie, matching his pace, and when Willie noticed the pursuit, he kicked off his high heels and firmed up an already white knuckle grip on the cart.
“Hold onto your butt!” Willie yelled as he started sprinting with the cart.
Immediately, the two men started sprinting as well, giving chase and calling after Willie, “The bearded lady! Stop!”
“It’s a good thing I shaved my legs, makes me more aerodynamic!” Willie said as he planted his feet, drifting the cart around a corner.
The sheet flew off the cart to reveal Krähe with wide eyes, looking up at his mascara clad bearded savior.
He glanced behind them to see the men in black chasing them through the sterile white halls. Then turned his eyes back to Pete with wild grin painfully tugging at his dry lips, followed by a reckless hoot of laughter.
“Pete you're one crazy fucker! Can't think of anyone else that could pull this off.”
“I’m not entirely sure I can, but your optimism is inspiring!”
Before another word could be said, the bum wheel finally gave in, folding over and breaking loose. The wheel flew beneath Willie’s feet, causing him to slip. The men in suits were dangerously close, but more importantly, they were nearing a plate glass window ahead. Willie got his feet underneath him long enough to realize what was about to happen. He lept into the cart with Krähe right before the cart crashed through the window.
“Hold on!”
And there, both Willie and Krähe, in the cart, flew through the air as they navigated a two story drop. There was a moment, admittedly, where the two shared a short embrace as they both screamed bloody murder, right before crash landing in the back of a dump truck en route out of the parking lot. The two men in suits stopped at the window, looking out to see the wreckage in the dump truck as it drove away.
“Are...are we dead? Is this what being dead is like?” Willie groaned, not wanting to move.
Krähe sat up, wide eyed and covered in filthy linens, with an unwanted view up Willie’s skirt.
“More like hell?” Krähe guessed.
Willie finally sat up, proud of himself, “I think we did it! I think we escaped. Didn’t go exactly to plan, but close enough!”
Krähe slowly sat up as well despite his bodies protest. His body wasn't hurting him nearly as much as he thought it would, but then again he had no idea how long he had been out.
“Close enough for me. Now to find pants, and a drink...Not precisely in that order.” With a rough chuckle Krähe fell back against the questionable sheets and enjoyed the ride.