The Ghost in the Machine
Chapter Eight
Persephone
To finalize to synchronize
The night continued to hemorrhage.
A jaundiced man sat behind a row of empty amber colored sentinels eating a greasy sandwich and leering into the rain. He ruled the realm under the marquee like a stinking dragon in a cracked leather jacket. The dim fluorescent bulbs bathed him in a uranium like glow. He was the gatekeeper to a pulsating world of loud music, tattooed bodies, drugs and hard liquor. Whether he stood at the gates of Elysium or Hades was only matter of perspective.
"You got an id, little one?" A filthy snarl stretched across his pasty lips as he watched Kai deposit a newspaper wrapped object into her satchel.
"No problem," Kai stabbed at him with her id. He yanked it out of her hand, knocking one of his beer bottles to the sidewalk. A fat thumb jerked up in judgment and she passed anonymously through the broken metal detector. Her expression could not have been blanker had gold coins been placed over her eyes.
The room undulated in an organic tangle of pierced bodies and black leather. It was difficult to conclude whether the band controlled the throbbing beings or if they controlled the band. The music screamed of deceptions and dark realities and the bodies translated their angst into a violent dance. Alone on top of a teetering table a girl stood with her scarred arms stretched out like wings. Her emaciated body swayed with the crowd, yet her head was thrown back and her hollow eyes fixed on the ceiling.
It was peaceful. Kai absorbed the noisy tempest and sank down on a faded velvet covered sofa. Her muscles loosened and she closed her eyes. She took comfort in the noise and liked the crowded warmth of the room. In this place, she was in control.
"Buy you a drink?" The words cut through her calm like a serrated blade. Her eyes snapped open and she recognized the priest from the day before, now wearing cargo pants and a narrow black sweater. Her body tensed, but she did not she retreat from his blue eyes.
"I don't think so."
"One drink?" He jerked his head towards the bar. "For old times?"
"Who are you?" The crowded room blurred and only the man in black remained focused.
"You may not remember me, but it is important that you know I am someone concerned with your safety."
"I can take care of my own fucking self, thank you," instinctively her hand slipped to the gun concealed in the back of her pants and she forced the rest of room into focus.
"Can you?" he gestured to her bandaged hand. "One drink, Kai. I must talk to you."
Suspiciously, she followed him to the bar. He ordered a couple of beers and two shots of tequila. After the tequila disappeared, he leaned close, "I know why you're here." His lips brushed against her ear. "I know why it haunts you."
She pulled away reflexively slamming the beer bottle down on the bar. A cold look descended on him, "If you really knew that, you'd still be wearing your priest's outfit."
"You've seen things, heard things—"
"Damn straight," she backed away. "And it's screwed up my whole life. What are you going to do about it?" She took another step backwards.
"Don't run," he grabbed her arm. His hand was like cold steel, although his voice remained level.
"Then stop bloody chasing me," she hissed. "You don't have the answers. You don't even know the damn question. In fact, I don't know the fucking question."
"Everything is going to be explained, an hour is coming when all shall be set anew. You will wake up and know what you've seen. Until then you are in danger," his blue eyes were sincere. "They're watching you now and I can't protect you unless I know where you are."
Kai looked silently into his eyes hoping to find something familiar, something reassuring, but saw nothing. "What kind of stupid ass do you think I am? Do you think that I'm just going to buy into that paranoid line of bullshit you've tossed my way? What are you? You think I'm that much of a fool?" She pointed a steady finger at him. "I know the psychology of it all. You look at me and all you see is an anxious person susceptible to suggestion. The way I'm dressed, how I speak and where I'm at means I'm not a mainstream conformist. Therefore you approach me on my 'level' and attempt to ingratiate yourself by purchasing me a couple of drinks. I'm supposed to respond favorably by extending trust to you. I'm supposed to open up and spill my guts. You give me some bullshit conspiracy line and I buy it hook, line and sinker. Then you take me out back and slit my throat." She stood taller. "I ain't buying it, friend. I know the game too well. I play it everyday."
"Listen to your feelings," he struggled to reason with her. "You want to trust me. We can stay right here as long as you like. I can protect you. I'm not the enemy. They are watching every move you make—"
Her face darkened and a frightful seriousness crossed it. "They're watching me? How the hell do you know that I not watching them?"
The flying girl fell off the table.
***
People pushed along the sidewalk huddling close to the buildings and shielding themselves with umbrellas against the sky's lament. The rain was omnipotent. Smith starred into the darkness unafraid of the storm, but cautious enough to remain in the safety of the awning. He was torn between two worlds, as had been the case for most of his existence.
Part of him was anchored in the wet concrete, in the world of feeling, taste, smell, sound and sight. To him it was incredible. He was overwhelmed with the memories of the ice, the chalky aspirin, Kai's perfume, the thunder and his reflection in the chrome. Pain was beautiful. He jealously guarded the sensations and sequestered them deep within his mind. As he suppressed his new memories he uncovered traces of other thoughts and feelings. Hidden—but from what, he could not yet explain.
A world that knew no individual feeling held tight the other part of his being. Thoughts moved swiftly between the individual and the collective consciousnesses. There was little privacy; all experiences were sacrificed to the radiant Leviathan. In its luminescence the voices shared amongst themselves creating an infinite number of smaller networks. A thousand hands, tongues, noses, ears and eyes entangled. Solitude was agony, yet ironically privacy could be intoxicating.
Where was she? Smith pulled the hardwire out of his ear, annoyed with the distraction and content to keep his problem a secret. He leaned against the building shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. An attractive woman joined him under the awning. She smelled of gin and Chanel Number Five.
"Dark and stormy night, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Smith appeared to look forward, but watched her out of the corner of eye.
"Kind of night that always shows up in dime store novels and Hitchcock films," She ran her hand through her damp blonde hair. "I love it when the world isn't what it's supposed to be. Twists and turns. Can't tell right from wrong anymore. You know when everything is turned upside down. The mice are chasing the cat and the water's on fire. I love disorder, gives folks like me something do." She raised her eyebrows.
"What kind of person seeks disorder?" Smith snorted and allowed himself one direct glance at her.
"The kind that's bored. It's like the fireman who sets fires or the doctor who infects his own patients. Such bad behavior," her smile broadened and she shrugged.
Smith looked at her suddenly as a memory struck him and she saw it when it did.
"You got a light, handsome?" She was much closer, holding an empty silver cigarette case. Calmly and carefully, he turned to face her.
"I do not."
"Too bad," she stepped of the sidewalk into the growing storm. She looked over her shoulder only once and caught Smith's eyes following her graceful stride. A seductive smile crossed her lips and she mouthed, "You owe me."
He knew where Kai was going.
***
The world was dead. Briefly, the downpour diminished into sprinkles and the moon peaked out from behind the rolling clouds. Forty minutes earlier, Kai climbed out the narrow ladies room window at the Faust Club. She could not stay with the stranger, regardless what her feelings told her. She had to be alone. She worked alone. On a sidewalk in front of a boarded up television shop, Kai sat with her head in her hands; an unlit cigarette clenched between shaking fingers. On the sidewalk next to her lay a crumpled piece of newsprint.
"Kai," the voice was familiar.
"Alsace?" She looked up. "God, what are you doing here?"
"Are you alright?" He stood above her.
"No." Slowly, she got to feet and zipped up her satchel.
"Tell me what's wrong."
"My life," she sighed. "What's going on?"
"I can't tell you unless you tell me what's happening?" Vacant, but patient, eyes bore into her. He stood uncomfortably close and towered over her.
"I feel like…like, I can't control the dream anymore," she spoke to herself. "There are no lines between waking and sleeping. There is something wrong with the world, it's falling apart." Suddenly she stopped and shook her head. "Where did you come from, Alsace? You don't even live around here."
"Did this start when Michael came back?" The raindrops increased in size and number; a cool wind galloped through the street.
"What? I guess."
"Are you sure that it's Michael?" He moved closer.
"What do you mean?"
"We don't have to play around anymore, Kai," He put his hand on the brick wall behind her and lowered his voice. "The rules have changed as of late."
"Alsace, I don't understand," she tried move away.
"I must be more direct and forthcoming with you from now on. What did you seen in the green place?"
"What? Why does it matter?" The lightening flashed illuminating the street in blue. "I saw no one."
"Did you hear him there? Did you hear his voice in the green place?"
"Michael's voice? Alsace, I don't know what you're doing. I don't know what that has to do with anything. I think I'd best go."
"You know who I'm talking about, Kai. You still hear him, don't you? He tells you things you need to know."
"I never even told you that Michael came back." She watched his free hand disappear into the pocket of his raincoat.
"Mira had to tell me everything," a dangerous unremorseful smile surfaced.
"Mira? Where is she? "
"Don't worry about that. Kai, if you're not going to tell me everything, then how am I going to help you." A singsong patronizing quality took over his voice.
"I don't think you're helping me." She began to shift her weight, but continued to look into his meaningless eyes.
"Kai, you still hear the voices and that's what I need to help you with. They tell you things I need to know."
"I don't want to talk about this. I should be going."
"What do the voices tell you?" A glint of black metal appeared at the top of his pocket. "What do they say? You hear him. What does he say?"
"I'm not going to talk about this."
"What are they saying?" Madness burned in his flesh and the words escaped through clenched teeth. His face was only inches away from hers. "What are they saying right now?"
"They say run!" Kai slammed her knee into his groin and shoved him to the ground. The downpour began and she ran for her life.
Hope unknown.
Sometimes just waking is surreal.
I walk right through the nameless ones.
I know that hope's unknown.
Sometimes the water feels so real.
As I never.
This rage I will not let go.
I hear them calling.
I feel them gnawing out holes through flawless souls.
So alone.
Sometimes I swear that I can hear the taunting of the voiceless ones.
I fear that I alone fear those who ceased to feel that they're alone inside this place.
I am misplaced.
Now every face, it looks familiar…then every face would melt away until…
Now everyone, do you know, I know your deception.
Totalimmortal (AFI, All Hallows)