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2021-08-24 17:52:18Janice opened her eyes, which had been closed the entire time she spoke. It surprised Byron at how well the girl narrated her story, more like a memoir than a casual conversation. He wondered if she rehearsed all of this in her cell, eventually deciding that there was very little that Janice didn't rehearse.
“Sorry I'm spending so much time on this crap.” she fiddles with her fingers nervously.
“It's fine. Just talk about whatever comes to you.”
“I don’t think this is what you want to write about, is it?”
“You never know.” Byron gave an encouraging smile. “And it's good to have as much background as possible. It makes for a better book, even if I don't end up writing about any of this.”
Janice nodded, and Byron could tell from the girl's expression she was indeed thinking about what he had said.
“I guess you're right. Besides… I'm not ready to talk about… about what happened to my friends. Not yet.”
“That's fine. Just go at your own pace.”
“I will talk about it eventually, I promise.”
“I know. Don't worry.”
“You're not wasting your time...” Janice looked genuinely worried that she was letting him down.
What a strange girl. He thought to himself.
“I never thought I was.” Byron replied honestly.
“Alright.”
“But time's almost up for today.” The guard announced, pulling herself from the wall and looking to Byron. “You can come back next week.”
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The room beyond the door was simple; squarish and small, able to be crossed with only a handful of strides. The walls were painted eggshell white, and the paint had started to peel, just a little, at the corners. The room had probably, Janice assumed, begun its life as storage.The only things in the room were a small bed covered with hospital white sheets, slightly yellowed with age, and a small machine which filled the air with soft, rhythmic beeping. Tubes ran from the machine to the bed where they attached to the figure tucked beneath the sheets.It was Emily Diamond… the real one.***Adara felt the atmosphere change in her small apartment, the energies swell above her ritual space. She sensed (more than saw) a figure floating overhead in the shape of a majestic grey wolf.Thank you. She mouthed the words silently, not wanting the sound of her voice to break the preternatural silence that had eng
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The flickering light registered first. It seemed to come from all corners of the room beyond the door, all directions until it replaced everything in Janice's world with cold fire. The door slammed behind her with a defiant thud, leaving her alone with whatever was causing the prismatic world. Slowly, images began to come to the forefront.An animated demon perched on a mountain, summoning spectral figures from the ground.A man, standing in a busy street, throws a Molotov cocktail into an oncoming car's window. Janice could now tell the walls had been covered with sheets of thick plastic and an unseen projector was throwing up images on every possible surface. The air was full of noise, a dirty, toothache inspiring static that swelled to a volume which Janice feared would do permanent damage to her inner ear.If I ever get out of here… Janice thought to herself.A 50s era rock band plays
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Looming like the villain in a million slasher films, the House cast its shadow over Janice. She stood now on its front steps, holding the vial of who-knows-what in her hand. She pulled the stopper from the vial and put it to her lips before quickly pulling it away. Whatever this concoction was, it smelled awful.Though she was no expert on drugs (that was always more Julia's domain), she knew that hallucinogenic drugs were often placed in an alcohol solvent for easy ingestion, so she had expected a grainy, yeasty smell. Whatever the liquid was, it smelled nothing like alcohol or grain. It was more like rotten eggs and the lingering fragrance you got after striking a match.“You can't be serious,” Janice said to nobody in particular. She tried the front door and was not in the least bit surprised it refused to yield. The doorknob had no give at all, not even the wiggle you get when you try to open a locked door. It was as though a mere m
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