Chapter 5: Losing Touch with Reality

Iris growled “Just what the fuck do you bastards want from me? I won’t rig another election and I definitely won’t help you create any more terrorists or convince people to shoot-up schools!”

That brown-skinned woman suddenly started laughing hysterically, then she landed a heavy punch into the tied up girl’s solar-plexus. She yelled “You stupid twat! You don’t even know who we are!” and started smacking her around a bit more.

Suddenly, two of the masked men from outside, entered and restrained the crazed ‘boss’. One of them shouted “Vice-Admiral King, stop! It wasn’t her fault! She was just being manipulated! Our orders are to bring her to the Admiral, alive!”

It wasn’t until then that the furious woman heaved out a long sigh and smirked at the teenager, whose face was bruised and battered beyond recognition. Iris spat out a few more teeth, along with plenty of blood, before groaning and gazing over towards the mysterious black orb to her left.

“You little bitch… We were sent to rescue your psychotic ass! After I sacrificed so many of my men, you just fucked off and left us to die in that hellhole! If you weren’t so damn important to Luke… Ugh, supposedly, some sort of ancient, evil being, is returning to Earth soon. We need as many of you Psychers and other freaks as possible, or the world will literally end! Now, come with us ‘willingly’ and don’t try to murder anyone, or I’ll personally put a bullet through your shitty little brain!” After saying that, Vice-Admiral King took out a combat knife and cut the restrains off of the woozy ginger-girl.

Michael started snickering and muttered “Hmmm, hopefully I can remember this dream when I wake up… I might be able to incorporate it into the current arc somehow?”

Then he heard Iris’ voice whispering in his left ear, “Who are you? More importantly, ‘what’ are you?”

He casually relied “My name’s Mike and I guess I’m an author? Considering that you have the same name as a character in a couple stories I’ve written, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that this is all just a dream…”

She started giggling, as the two beefy men dragged her half-conscious body out of the house. Then she mumbled “We’ll meet again… soon.” as that mysterious wisp vanished.

 

Since Michael’s parents and brother were gone for most of the day and they didn’t understand what time he had gone to sleep, they didn’t even notice that he was unconscious for nearly forty hours. He was trapped within a profound dream.

There were six luminous spirits, which appeared as nothing more than small effigies of light. The first one was a bright-green fox, the second was a violet spider, third was a pure-white dove, fourth was a hot-pink kitten, fifth was like a fluffy grey cloud, then there was a crimson serpentine dragon.

Of course, at the center was his own, pitch-black and formless soul. He grumbled “Okay~ then, is anybody gonna tell me what the fuck is going on right now?”

That spider hissed, the vixen barked, the dove made some soft pigeon-noises, the cloud sounded like thunder, the dragon growled and the kitten purred. They all seemed like they wanted to speak with him, but they weren’t even able to communicate properly with each other.

Michael complained “Ugh, now that I think about it rationally… Maybe I’m dying right now? I did eat two pounds of raw chicken livers and then stuffed my face with so much food that logically, my stomach shouldn’t have been able to fit it all… It’s also possible that I hit my head in the shower and went into a coma or some such bullshit. Fuck, I can’t even afford to go to the dentist, so there’s no way we can pay for those kinds of hospital bills; I can only hope that my parents were too late to find me and I just croaked.”

 

Eventually, the nearly comatose man opened his eyes and noticed that his entire body felt horribly sore. He was struggling to breath, as he felt a sharp pain in his lower left-side ribs. It took a few seconds for him to slowly roll off the side of his bed and smack into the tile floor.

“Ow~, fucking shit-cunt-dick-whore-bitch-sauce!” His arms and legs had lost circulation for far too long, so he couldn’t even push himself off of the ground. Then there was the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything for nearly two days, which made him feel as if he had no strength left in his surprisingly muscular limbs.

The room was totally dark and it was the middle of the night, but he could hear a television in the kitchen and living room at the same time. He could also ‘feel’ that his father was sitting on the couch directly above where he was lying; it was actually just a guess, since he couldn’t hear anyone walking around or making noise in the kitchen. Then he could ‘sense’ that his brother was in the bathroom on the second floor, since he could literally hear the shower running.

His mother was in the ‘bird-room’; it was essentially just a wide hallway, with a large computer desk that stretched from his brother’s bedroom door, almost completely blocking off the space behind it. There were dozens of bird cages against the walls, and two extremely annoying parrots, along with plenty of finches, parakeets, lovebirds and doves.

However, there was one presence within the house which he felt was very ‘odd’. “Mew~, meow~, nya~…” A small, soft and surprisingly cold patch of fur was rubbing against his face. It had glowing bright-pink eyes and strange blue fur, which seemed to be slightly bio-luminescent.

“What the fuck? How the hell did a cat get in here? Actually, it looks so small… Nope, I’m hallucinating, because there’s no way there would be a kitten in my room.” It purred quietly and nuzzled its head against his face, causing him to feel as if he were getting frostbite. When he yelled “Ow, shit~!” it abruptly dove inside of his mouth and caused his jaw to nearly break, as it clawed its way down his throat.

After being asphyxiated, he lost consciousness and laid there motionless, without breathing. He stayed that way for thirty minutes, before his heart started beating again and his lungs filled with oxygen. “Ah?!” Michael immediately jumped up off of the ground, with nothing but a pair of boxers on.

He looked around for a few minutes but couldn’t find any traces of that strange and diabolical creature. “Fuck my life, that was definitely a dream… There’s no glowing cat-hair on the floor, so it was a nightmare, not real. I think I might be going insane from overworking my brainbox lately. I’ve written too many characters; I’m starting to have trouble differentiating reality from fiction…”

Turning his rather large monitor on, he also hit the power button on his computer. It started up and shut down sixteen times in a row, then finally began working properly. Michael breathed out a long sigh of relief, muttering “I guess you’re still hangin in there, huh?” and heading upstairs.

Upon reaching the kitchen, he noticed that the lights were out and the television was off. There was only a small light, near the stove, which illuminated the room enough for him to see properly. He unhesitantly walked over to the living room and then headed upstairs, immediately going into the bathroom and taking a long, scalding hot shower.

As he felt the water burning his flesh, he began quietly singing “Hardcore~, OP-ness~… Losing touch with reality~… Hardcore~, OP-ness~… I think I’m dying, cause I can’t pee~… Hardcore, oh god, my life is such a fucking disaster…”

His forehead smacked into the wall and he turned the cold water completely off, but it didn’t hurt. The more depressed he felt, the colder his skin became, until the steam transformed into frost.

However, his ‘mood-swings’ were having an even more dramatic effect on the sky outside. It was already in the low forties, but it swiftly dropped down below freezing and the huge cumulonimbus that was passing over the city, had strangely stopped in place. Then it began snowing; even after he left the shower and went down into his room, the storm didn’t stop.

Dozens of other clouds started being ‘pulled’ over towards the Baltimore area, and while the ones closest to Michael’s house were merely snowing, some of the ones farther away, were actually hailing. One-hundred and twenty-seven people were killed when ice the size of bowling balls began falling through their roofs of their houses and cars.

Yet, after half an hour, and a decent amount of furry porn, Michael managed to cheer up a bit. Thus, the deadly ‘freak-storm’ had abruptly ended, and the temperature started to rise dramatically.

5 thoughts on “Chapter 5: Losing Touch with Reality

    • He was in the basement masturbating to furry porn, obviously the weather channel wasn’t part of his porn-list. Although, there is that one ‘naked news’ thing… But idk, just being naked isn’t enough for a hardcore porn aficionado rofl.

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