Let me clear the air, before we go any further. Most people put in my situation probably would've acted the same way I did, but I don't think that does me justice. You see, my bar for weird shit is a little higher than it is for most people. Having a fucked-up dream, waking up and finding a fucked-up note on my bathroom mirror is pretty weird, sure, but I've woken up after weirder things. Let me put it to you this way: if I could've given Claudia any advice before I sent her off to the academy, I'd have told her you should never do a tab of acid before you duel. It sounds like a great idea until you realize you forgot to turn off the pain-synthesizers on the duel disk.
The point I'm trying to make is that my first reaction was unusual for me, because right after I saw the note I knew I needed help. I spent twenty minutes digging around my room for my phone until I remembered that I'd fallen asleep in my clothes, which is when it hit me that checking my pockets would've been a good start.
If I could've given Claudia any more advice before I sent her off to the academy, I'd have told her to have at least one conspiracy theorist's phone number. When there's something strange in your neighborhood, who're you gonna call? The cops? Nobody's going to believe you if, for example, you get hit up by a guy you swear was a shadow duelist, and if you tell them you saw a duel spirit you're just going to get laughed at. Shadow duelists are an urban legend and duel spirits are something lonely nerds talk about to feel better about their shitty decks. At times like these, you need somebody who's at least going to listen to every word you have to say, and it helps when they kinda believe it.
So, I called up Jameson. Jameson was a friend of mine back in middle school, sort of a twitchy kid who wore enough dark clothing that me and my friends let him hang around with us. Even back then, Jameson saw into this whole other world. Half the reason we kept him around is because he'd always have some new theory about the "true meaning" of Duel Monsters, or who invented the shadow games, or what planets aligned to give the game its modern revival. We stopped asking questions pretty quickly, and we learned that letting him talk was more interesting than facing him with an argument. Even so, the arguments he and our history teacher had were the stuff of legend, so you might say I'm grateful to him for helping make it all tolerable.
We stopped talking when I dropped out moved into the city, but we traded numbers and found each other online a few years after he graduated. He hadn't changed a bit, and the second we started talking again it was shadow realm this and orichalcos that. I called him because I needed to hear a voice I recognized, and because I knew he'd have some explanation for what I just saw. I never really believed Jameson's big theories and I didn't have any plans to start then, but I needed a clear head. Jameson would be able to put it into context, even if it was paranormal bullshit Jameson-context, and that would be enough to get it off my mind at least.
Jameson took his sweet time picking up the phone. It was halfway through the canned voicemail message before I finally heard him fumbling around with it, muttering something to himself the whole time. Finally, he seemed to get it up to his ear.
"Is this call being traced?" That's Jameson, alright. Quick, terse, no time for courtesy. I like Jameson.
"I dunno. Hey, James."
"Who is this?" His tone was odd. It didn't sound like he didn't recognize me, exactly. It sounded more like I was supposed to give him some kind of code-word.
"Uh, it's Kim? It's been a while, dude. I figured winning the world championship was a good excuse to call you." A couple weeks late, sure, but it was a good excuse.
"Oh. I hadn't heard. What's this about, Kim?" People who'd never so much as touched a deck of cards in their life knew my name, now. Still, I wasn't offended, since Jameson was the undisputed master of not seeing the forest for the trees. Even though he'd been obsessed with all this paranormal Duel Monsters stuff, I'd never once seen him duel. For all I knew, he never had.
"I had a..." Shit, what's the word? "I had a visitation, Jameson. Something bad, I think."
"What was it?" Jameson was terse before, but his voice got sharp when he heard. Serious, in fact. He didn't give me a chance to respond. "Were they Chaos envoys? Shadow Spirits? Do you have any past lives, Kim? You might be a victim of possession."
"Well, I had this dream where this girl turned into some kind of pale-faced demon. She told me I should listen, and left me a note on my bathroom mirror."
"A dream? Did it leave any markings on you? Do you have the Eye of Wdjat on your forehead? You'd be surprised how common that is."
"Just the note, I think."
"The demon – what did it look like? Describe it to me."
"Well, she had this snow-white face and these really thin red lips. The top half of her head was all covered in hair or feathers or somethi-"
"Damn it, Kim!" Jameson had a habit of getting really into his theories, but I'd never heard him this intense before. Right then I figured it was just something that came with age, like he'd marinated in all this para-dueling shit for so long it was as good as real. It made me feel a little better that he sounded concerned, at least. "Do you realize what this is?"
"I wouldn't be calling you if I did."
"You came face-to-face with a spirit of the Shadow Realm! That wasn't a dream you had, that was her, stealing you away to do who-knows-what!"
I didn't like the sound of that, but it almost made sense – I couldn't account for how I got in bed, or why I could remember going to Top Deck right after dropping Claudia off. Getting sucked into the Shadow Realm or whatever at least bridged the gap a little, not that I was any stranger to missing big chunks of memory. I wasn't exactly convinced, but Jameson was on a roll.
"Kim, I need you to listen to me because this is life or death. Understand me? Life or death!"
"Yeah, sure, life or death." I tried not to sound too put-off, but Jameson was starting to freak me out.
"If I'm right, you've caught their attention, and if you've caught their attention that means you've got something they want. I don't know if it's your title or your soul or what, but letting them get it means they're one step closer to absolution. This is bad, Kim. This is really bad."
"Right, and who're they, exactly?"
"Shadow duelists, Kim. Followers of the Great Destroyer."
"You mean the metal band?"
"No, I don't mean the metal band! And stop listening to that music, it's probably controlled by them."
I tried my hardest not to snicker. Even back in school, Jameson saw evil everywhere. Every song, every corporation, even the hot dog stand down the road were all controlled by some invisible group of assholes or another. "Alright, so what do I do? Line my house with tinfoil? Commune with aliens?"
"Great ideas, but we don't have time for that. I need you to meet me."
"I- what? Jameson, if you're asking me out, I'm kind of in a shitty mood."
"I'm not 'asking you out,' Kim. Besides, I'm married to my work." Now that, I believed. "I can't explain this over the phone. If we aren't being listened to, we will be. I need you to meet me at my house on 34th and Main in two hours. Can you do that?"
"If my car's parked outside, yeah." I hadn't thought about it until just then, but I realized I had no way of knowing if I'd driven back home in my stupor. Or, you know, if the evil ghost who totally transported me home was thoughtful enough to bring my car back with me.
"Good. I need to make some phone calls. I didn't want to have to go on the offensive, but if they're targeting people like you that means they're almost ready to make their move."
"And what move are they gonna make, exactly?"
"No time to explain. I'll see you when you get here." Jameson paused for a second, muttering something to himself. "I don't know you! How did you get this number? Prank caller, prank caller!" He hung up right after, hopefully before I started laughing. Fucking Jameson. Hadn't changed a bit.