Is It Live Or Is It Subconscious?
A
Second Daina-n-Jerry Story
"Admittedly, it was a slight error in judgement on my part," I said, looking down at Jerry.
He looked up at me, his head in my lap, and said, "A
slight error in judgement? That's like saying
The Chicago Fire was a slight error in fire safety! You fucked up big time, so
admit it."
"The smell of cardboard is actually pretty stifling
in here," I said, trying to change the subject. "We'll probably keel
from that long before we get battered to death, anyway."
"Don't talk to me," Jerry replied darkly,
giving me a "how could you talk about something that dumb at a time like
this" look as he spoke.
If you're
wondering why I, in my sprite form, and Jerry, in a slightly reduced form
(reduced enough to fit his head on my lap), are belittling my decision-making
processes and dicussing our imminent demise from the
inside of a cardboard box, let me back up briefly and give you some
background...
Naomi had never really noticed it until today.
Actually, she had, but it had never really meant anything
to her before. Daina had doors all over her
subconscious mind and only when one was bored did one go looking behind them.
This one had a very official "Do Not Enter--This Means You, Naomi"
look about it, which was as good as an invitation inside for Naomi.
She tried the knob, but knew before she did it was
locked. With a grin, she shrank herself to sprite form and reached into the
lock.
"Why do you bother,
A few seconds later, Naomi had grown back and was opening
the door cautiously. She closed it behind her and looked around. The room had
nothing but more doors. These, however, were named. One said "Kathy"
on it, but it was dusty and seemingly welded shut. That was a deterrent for
sure, Naomi thought with a smirk. Of course, the only Kathy Naomi could think of was the one Daina'd been
friends with in
The other door was unlocked and read "Jerry".
It looked normal and seemed to thrum slightly. Naomi opened it without
hesitation and saw what she expected.
She looked around suspiciously, then went in and shut the
door behind her.
Alan had not expected company.
He could hardly call it company, however, since this was
more of just a mental intrusion.
Jerry was busy enough being the congenial pain in the ass
that he was, so Alan had been fairly unoccupied with the world about him when
he felt the door crack open in Jerry's subconscious. Unlike Jerry, Alan was a
ghost and was able to see these things and be a part of them most readily, so
he concentrated, made his presence in Jerry's subconscious fairly unobtrusive
and waited for it to fully open.
A woman slipped around the edge of the door...a black
woman. Already, Alan was unimpressed. She was very short, no more than about
5'1", and obviously intent on not being noticed. She peered around in a
quick case of the area, then slipped in. Alan had to
admit that had he not been paying attention, she might have gotten into Jerry's
subconscious unnoticed.
She also might have escaped alive, he thought with an
evil smirk. He had no need for actual weapons, since he, too, had unlimited use
of Jerry's imagination, but the thought of feeling his knife slide across
someone's throat again was too much to pass up.
The knife formed in his hand and he advanced, slowly
coalescing into his subconscious body behind her. The minute he'd formed
completely, he grabbed her from behind around the neck and placed the knife tip
at her throat. "Say, goodbye, bitch," he said, pleasantly.
"Goodbye...asshole," she said, then she disappeared. She reappeared again, only to shove
him against the wall with her seemingly negligible bulk and cram a strange
looking gun against his crotch. "Fuckin' blink,
even," she taunted him, "and I'll give new meaning to the phrase
'blow job'."
Alan stared in surprise at this woman, whom he towered
over by at least a foot, then phased out. She fired, true to her word, but he
was already reintegrating behind her. "Momentary truce," he said,
somewhat intrigued.
"Who decides when the moment is up?" she asked,
not turning around, but stiffening her back.
"I do," he replied coldly.
"Fuck that," she replied, turning on
him. "And fuck you."
"Hardly," Alan scoffed.
"Don't overestimate your capabilities," Naomi
replied smoothly.
"Don't overestimate your appeal."
"I'd have to overdo it to satisfy us
both."
"I doubt you could do anything to my
satisfaction."
"I doubt you have anything for my
satisfaction."
Alan glared scrutinizingly at
the woman, relaxing his knife hand only slightly. She glared back, but kept her
weapon still. "I know you," he said, finally.
"I know," she said. "You're that Alan
kid."
"And you're that Naomi wench."
"I hate the hell outta
spoiled rotten human brats like you who think just 'cause they kill a person,
they're suddenly mercenary material," she said, taking a step toward him.
"And I hate the hell outta
has-been fairy wanna-be's like you who think just
'cause they can perform some laser light shows with their bods
that they're suddenly wizard caliber," he retorted, taking a step toward
her.
Oddly, and perhaps frighteningly enough, the two smiled,
hers a wary smirk, his an appraising leer...but both
grinning conspiratorially.
"How do you do that?" Naomi asked. "When I
shot at you..."
"What, fade out?"
"Yeah."
"I'm possessing a person,
not a being a person's possession. Ghosts can fade in and out as they please
anywhere they want. Didn't you do the same?"
"I'm an entity, not a ghost. All I did was shrink to
sprite size fast enough to throw you off for a moment, then I grew back.
Acquired trait," Naomi shrugged.
"So, how did you get in here?" Alan asked.
"Used the Link," Naomi shrugged.
"The what?"
"The Link, stupid, between Jerry
and Daina. They're good friends, they form a
mental link, it bridges things like gaps in
understanding and all that. It's a mind thing."
"So I noticed," Alan nodded, glancing toward
the door. "And you can travel this thing whenever?"
"Of course, I'm an entity. A complex thought
pattern, Daina says." Naomi paused as an odd
look crossed her face, then added, "Hey, listen...i'm
getting the spritely mischief thing going on here. Wanna help me fuck something up, or are you too housebound
to your posessee?"
"I ain't bound to nobody,
least of all Jerry," Alan said, straightening up haughtily.
"Good," said Naomi, opening the door again and
holding it open, "then let's get evil, shall we?"
Alan gave her another mistrustful look, but he was not to
be outdone by some smartass dark sprite. If things didn't work out, he could
always kill her or take it out of Jerry. He shrugged and sauntered through the
doorway into the Links Beyond.
"By the way," Naomi asked, as they disappeared,
"can you really put Jerry to sleep?"
"Of course."
"Good. That'll help a lot..."