8-01 The Gilded Cage
The tree leaves rustled in the summer breeze. It was as if the whole wood was speaking to him, warning him but he wasn't listening. Instead he was spitting muddy strands of brown hair out of his mouth as he scrambled up the embankment. The construction team had moved large amounts of earth around the park and you could start to guess where they were going to build the ski jump. The rain had started and turned any exposed dirt into a ski jump in its own right, which happened to include the steep gouge in the earth that Toki was trying to negotiate. He didn't know any other way through this part of the wood and so tried yet again to scramble up the slippery slope. Fuck the Olympics! Why did they have to have them here anyway? He dug his fingers into the earth and began to climb up the embankment on all fours. Large clods of dirt and rock fell away and the water trickled down to create new mud in their vacancies as a teenage Toki finally made it to the top of his obstacle. His front was covered in cold mud from a fall so he wiped his dirty hands on the back of his jeans without a great deal of success. The slight elevation gave him a view of the tree tops way off in the distance, back towards the village….. where black smoke climbed higher and higher into the damp summer sky.
Toki simply knew that the black turret of smoke off in the distance was his father's church. His father appeared on the mound beside him, his long black robe remained impervious to the wind and rain and he spoke to Toki, without uttering a sound.
"When a man challenges the will of God, it is no more effective than a house cat challenging the will of a lion." His father conveyed telepathically. "Once we succumb to our greatest fear, the fear of our father, then there is no room in our hearts to fear men."
Toki continued to stare off into the distance as the sound of hooves drew nearer. A snow white horse appeared out of the trees with its head as the body of a beautiful blonde man. The polished tip of a spear glinted in the dappled summer sun as the beast strode lazily to the bottom of the embankment, swishing its long, golden tail in a very James Dean fashion. Toki gawked openly at the majestic creature whose hooves and coat attracted no mud and whose hair and tail did not wilt in the rain. Toki suddenly became embarrassed by his own shabby appearance and tried to wipe the muck from his face, again, without a great deal of success.
The centaur placed one hand on what would have been his hip and shifted his weight to his other back leg. It then brandished the spear at Toki, pointing it straight at his young chest. The beast spoke to him in a familiar voice "Hello, little Toki. What secrets bring you to my wood?"
Toki blushed with secrets and disapproval radiated from the black robe next to him. He looked to his father who met his eyes in the same discerning way they always had. Toki repeated his father's words diligently to chance at his approval "I am filled with the fear of my father and so I have no room in my heart to fear men!" he recited obediently.
The centaur laughed haughtily, "I expect that is true!" Toki blushed again, this time at his ironic choice of words. "And for that reason you have something I want, for as you can see, I am more than a simple man." The creature explained.
"What could I have of value to you?" the brown hair boy asked in earnest.
The centaur lifted both corners of his pouted mouth in an eloquent grin.
"Your pagan heart." It replied and planted the spear in Toki's chest.
Toki awoke with a start. His heart beat out of sync for a few moments as his adrenal gland righted itself. He put a hand to his forehead as he forced his way back to reality. He stared blankly at the new model planes and didn't recognise his own ceiling for a conscious brain caught up with him and seemed to say 'oh god, not you again'. Having a consciousness that detested you was exhausting.
He sat up and positioned himself on the edge of his bed with his head in one hand. His long hair skimmed the faded white and pink stipes on his shoulder blades, the worn away brail telling the story of his past. His brain was awake but his body was not and it took a great amount of will power to stand and walk the ten feet to his bathroom. He lit a cigarette and checked his phone, it was 4:36pm; how long had he been asleep? It felt like he had run a marathon the day before as he threw a robe on over his pyjama pants and willed his sagging body down the stairs for some coffee.
With each step into the realm beyond his bedroom, a piece of the jigsaw puzzle that was yesterday afternoon materialised and slotted into place. There were blank spots, though, where the pieces had been lost forever but the general picture forming was not a good one. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and sat for a moment, his body was already drained of its power. He rested his head against the banister and tried to smoke but his arm was too heavy to bring to his face. Instead, the blue-grey chemical trail streamed gracefully up into the atrium of the living room until the last of the ash had fallen from the filter. Without the ability to escape into sleep his psyche began to tear itself apart. Battling both the outside world and the inside world was too much to bare and he could understand how some people sort the silence of death, however, better the devil you know than the devil you don't.
Toki allowed himself to lay up the stairs and rest for a moment, it was far from comfortable but it served its purpose. He lay starring through the railings and examined his memory. He remembered Skwizgaar helping him to his room then... just… leaving. Just leaving him there, in his room, alone. How could he have done that after what had happened? What had compelled him to leave? Toki couldn't remember properly and so closed his eyes and delved deeper into his own mind. He could remember most of what he had felt, heard and smelt in the punishment hole… no, no, the studio, it was the studio, he had seen the studio just everything else had been wrong.
He cringed at the small bursts of memory speeding past his conciseness like cars on a highway. The panicked words that had come from his mouth seemed so utterly ridiculous now. How could Skwizgaar have left him alone, in the dark, with such thoughts still retreating from the corners of his mind? What could have possibly… (One of the cars careened off the road, rolled a few times and burst into flame).
The album.
The band's only real concern; Skwizgaar's only real concern. Of course, the lead guitarist had gone to finish his masterpiece. Toki's needs paled in comparison to Skwizgaar's first and only love; himself. He had gone to transfer from the water of his being to the burnt water, all of the splendour and malevolence that made him, for these were the qualities of a god. That, Toki supposed, and a sense of whimsy.
Toki slowly peeled himself off the steps and managed to return to an upright position. He then used his burning desire for coffee to ignite his leg muscles and willed himself up and into the kitchen. There he found a hammer-assed plumber's crack hanging out of the fridge, it was so grotesque that he stared at it for a little bit too long, purely in morbid fascination. The snout of the creature come up to greet him.
"Schtop scrtarig at my assch you fucking faggot!" Murderface said automatically in the classic aggressive, mocking and confronting manner that conveyed kinsmanship and comradery in the lower tiers of English speaking cultures. It had taken a while for Skwizgaar to figure this one out and it had contributed to his high turnover of bands when he first came to America. Luckily, the swede had passed this information onto the young Norwegian fairly quickly when he had asked Skwizgaar why the other three hated each other so badly.
"It ams like the dead animals on the road sides; Is so fucking disgustings you can't looks away!" Toki retorted with a vigour he didn't know he had at this moment. "Blagh!" he added as he walked towards the coffee pot.
Murderface extracted the processed cheese dip he found at the back of the fridge then straightened up to give his rebuttal. He paused for a moment when he saw Toki's gaunt profile pouring out the brown ambrosia into a Duncan Hills visage of the lead guitarist. The bassist furrowed his brow in an odd contortion that may have been mistaken as concern.
"What isch your deal witcsh him?" Murderface shot at Toki as he pointed to the mug in the rhythm guitarist's hand. Toki looked down at it and scolded himself internally for automatically choosing this mug.
"Not'ing ams the deal." Toki replied as his heavy limbs forced him to take a seat at the kitchen table.
"Bullschit, Toki! Everyone can schee schomthing's going on with the two of you." Murderface almost made a comment on the obviously detreating mental state of the Norwegian but then thought better of it. "You go from bescht friendsch to worscht enemies in the fucking blink of an eye! What the fuck wasch that schit yesterday?"
Toki couldn't muster a response, he was still trying to find an answer to that himself. He rested his forehead in his hand and stared intently down at the wood grain of the table "Not'ings again. Just fucks off Moiderface."
"Nothing huh? Well juscht don't look at my assch the way you look at hisch!" Murderface retorted as he stomped out of the room with the cheese dip in one hand and a pack of Doritos in the other.
The hand on Toki's forehead balled into a fist. That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be here anymore. He needed to escape. Escape the gilded cage of Mordhaus. Escape from this reality. He needed to go somewhere where no one would follow him. He had to make sure no one could follow him.
An idea began to form in his mind. An idea that morphed into a decision and then quickly became a plan. This plan gave his weak limbs new life as giddiness washed over his whole being. He took another sip of coffee then whipped out his dethphone from the depths of his robe.
To: Rockso [Hey, I wants out of this haus. What ams you up to this night?]
Toki sipped his coffee again and held the mug in both hands as he waited for the clown's response. He considered the high, skeletal cheekbones of the ceramic Skwizgaar in his hands and smirked at it. That blonde bastard wouldn't get the better of him. What had happened had happened and now Toki would kill the memory and all would be right with the world again.
From: Rockso [Hey baby! I ain't seen you in an age. Thought may bee you wernt talkin to me. But if you wanna hang loose I got just the place ;P ]
[Sorry, I been reel buzy with the Album. I can t take this place no mores. I needs gets out of here for a while. I just don't wants be me right nows.]
[well Doktor Rockso got just the thing 2 help you with that problem. always got time fer Toki :D Meet me downtown, crn. 4th n Slaughter st.]
[ok, I bees about 2 hours. Takk.]
[;P]
Toki smiled broadly and the contraction of those particular muscles felt peculiar after such a long time without a flex. He finished the rest of his coffee and thudded the mug down on the table. He paused for a moment and on a complete impulse, he turned the mug upside-down before he strode with purpose for the kitchen door.
He turned the corner and slinked down the halls and down the stairs. He crept lower and lower into the belly of the dragon where the Klokateers lived. He had to duck behind some pipes or hug the wall when one of them went past. It wasn't that he couldn't be down in the Klokateer's quarters, he just needed to stay out of sight for his plan to work. He checked the doors as he quickly padded bare foot across the cold, damp flagstones until he came to the end of the hall. He opened the large double doors with 'Laundry' painted in red across them in the classically incomprehensible black metal style. There he found piles of folded black shirts, pants, socks and hoods and he hurried to change into a set. Through another door to the right was an inventory of boots and belts where he finished his outfit. He tucked his hair into the back of his sleeveless shirt and clipped the dethphone to his hip. This could work.
Having never done laundry before he had no idea how to fold his other clothes and so just scrunched them into a ball as he nervously strode out of the laundry room.. He moved as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself, all of the weariness from only a few minutes ago had left him. He was utterly exhilarated, he was going to be free! He dumped his clothes in his room, picked up his wallet and tried as hard as he could not to run for the big double doors to the outside. He froze at the top of the steps when he saw that all the other band members and were sitting in the living room while Charles stood trying to explain to them why the post production schedule couldn't be blown out another two weeks just because they wanted to go with Nathan on a Polar Bear hunting trip in Alaska.
"Look, fellas." Charles continued, "You're already three weeks behind schedule as it is…"
"So another two weeks won't hurt anyone." Nathan argued,
"Yes it will, Nathan. There are people dependant on this record being released on time and…"
"Didn't you jus' say it's three weeks behind?" Pickles interjected,
"Yes, but that was factored into the release date a long time ago…"
"Scho why can't you factor thisch in too? Juscht cook the booksch, fiddle the numbersch. That'sch your job, isn't it?!"
"William…" Ofdensen caught something odd in his peripheral vision, a Klokateer using the front door. He turned to see the tiny sliver of light from the large oak door snap shut.
Toki resisted the over powering urge to run and so powerwalked up the long paved driveway to the large wrought iron gates of the grounds. Just as he was beginning to reach the gate it dawned on him just how far he would have to walk to get into town. At that same moment, an open topped jeep driven by another hood pulled up beside him.
"You! Gear! State your number." It said to him. Toki stood rooted to the spot and desperately tried not to break the character that he hadn't bothered to create.
"Ahh… six hundred ands sixty-six." Toki stated.
"And where are you going?" the hood continued.
"Ahh…. Downstown." Toki replied truthfully. He had decided that even if his cover had been blown he would order this servant of his to drive him there anyway, and would threaten him with a swift death if he told anyone. Actually he wondered why he hadn't just done this in the first place.
"I'm going downtown myself so I can drop you there. I've been instructed to collect a case of special alcohol for lord Skwigelf." The klokateer said. Toki was glad of the black hood covering his most disdainful expression.
"Yes, thanks you. That would be very much appreskiated." Toki replied, trying to dampen any authority in his voice. He climbed into the jeep and as they sped away, he watched the door of the cage close behind him in the mirror.
Time to fly.
