The Infernia Ambigua Archive:
Revelations for a Revolution

a graphic poem -
Joseph J. Weaver L.IF.E., HeRD.



1
Revelations
I think! Often I think. I like to think, but then again I don’t. Sometimes I like to think with my head resting firmly against the porcelain god of remorse. The mirror! Yes! A mirror can produce a heavy load of thought. It makes me think quite a bit. I think a lot. So do you. I think?
I am thinking about telling you a story. You may already know the tale. Then again you probably don‘t. Unless, of course, you’ve already been there. It’s a fable as old as time itself. You may have taken this journey. Not everyone has seen that silver platter. I’ve seen a lot, but no platters yet. No gold.
If I tell my story will you listen? Probably not! I know your attention span. It’s a long story. It’s the story of my life, but where to begin. I’m not exactly sure where to start.
I’d ask you where to commence, but you don’t have a clue. You think you do, but you’re wrong. You don’t know the correct answer. I think I know it too, but I’m wrong. I’ve been wrong a lot, but I may be onto something, large, off the scale here.
It is early in our adventure, we don’t always see the same way, but at least we can agree that the birds and worms do not quite get along.
One step forward is always two steps backward. Right? That statement does not make sense does it? It will soon enough. I think?
Do you think? Well, do you? I’m not to sure that you think. I thought that you think. I think? I think. I thought. I thought that I think. I think? If you don’t think, and I don’t think then, I think what we thought wasn’t thinking. I think then, we thought, that you were wrong.
Quit thinking! You’re getting confused. Wait, do not quit thinking so fast. Well, quit thinking so quickly. I think you should slow down, and think about what I have to say.
Forget the past, but don’t be Rome.
Are you thinking? Yep! That’s what I thought. I knew it. I knew you were a thinker. You are on your way.
So, where do I begin. Wow! Deja vu.
So, where do I begin? I’ll tell you exactly where we begin. Yes! I know where to start. I think? Yes, I think this is the end. So, we thought? Well, I think it’s the end, or maybe the beginning. I think it’s the end for us. For you. Yes, it may be the end, at least till we begin. I should say till you begin. It’s the end for you my friend. It’s the end till you begin to think for yourself. I think? My friend?
So, where do I begin? I can tell you where we begin. We begin at the beginning of the end! You think? I don’t.
I’m not to sure what lay before us. I just know that in the end we were right, we were always right. Sometimes it just takes a friend, possibly of foe, to open that door. We’ll be fine, you have a good heart. You are on your way. Everything is gonna be just, well, just alright.
What is this we stuff? We! Who is this we? It’s just you brother alone and on your own. It was always you, or was it me. I think you were wrong. I’m right. You were wrong! It’s both of us. It was all of us. Always has been, and will always be us. You are me, and I am you. We together are us, and us is unstoppable. Us, I mean we, yes we are unstoppable together.
We shall prevail. Together we fight till the end. We will fight for what is ours. I think? We will beat this life thing. Yes, with our brain we can win. I think? We will beat life. Will we beat life? I think.
Before we can be victorious in our battle against them we must forge. Together we must beat the battle from within. It will not be the easiest of tasks, but it’s a battle that together we will end. You think?
So, where do we begin? How about we start with yesterday. It was six, seven, ten years ago. An eternity. Wait! It was yesterday. Yes in our head it happened yesterday. I think? Maybe, or not.
2
In the beginning, there was you
The white rabbit fled into the hole. Unfortunately I was too late.
Life always comes back to that hole. Born just to die, I guess it’s a toll we all have to pay. Life never takes a break, always riding you into the darkness.
Ask Wyatt or Isaac about life, they can tell you. We have been marching down someone else’s road for far too long. I’m sorry I don’t want that life. I’ll just grab my happiness, and take that other path. Yes, that’s what I will get from all of this.
Let me tell you a little about Wyatt. Let us not forget Isaac. I mean, they are about to take this journey with us.
Isaac is your you average white male. His hair is a brown that sometimes gives that tint of red. His look says there’s a hint of Irish Blood somewhere in that DNA. His complexion pale, freckly as well. He has a build around two hundred and fifteen pounds. A body that tells us he was fit, very physical, but that was a long time ago. Think of a bland person full of personality when you picture Isaac, bursting with useless information. He is the type to study history, so afraid of the future. Isaac is part of dying breed, still having faith in Christian mythology. A sheep is what he is, being led around, still by those pigs. His potential is there. Free he could be, if only he would just let go. For a second that’s all it would take, but for now he remains one of those poor, sapless masses. I could sum up Isaac by saying he is the kind of guy that would watch Navy Seals, and enjoy it.
Wyatt, similar in nature to Isaac, is a wee more free spirited. Wyatt is definitely a thinker. He is a man with more time that he can handle, yet still yearns for the hours to be bestowed up him.
This is confusing I know, but Wyatt himself is just as confused.
Wyatt is a creator, much like myself. He is an idea man, full of imagination. The next Chomsky could be on hand, but the will in Wyatt is weak. Picking up the pen can be more challenging than you think. His need to fulfill himself is strong, always seeking instant gratification. A firm believer in Murphy’s Law, he is, but cannot help himself from questioning the system. Wyatt has heavy hair, his build is slender yet still thick. He spent countless hours to maintain that look, but only finds his health and fitness to come in spurts these days. The answer to Wyatt’s equation is love. At heart Wyatt is just a punk rocker.
As for myself. You know, me. I already told you that the best way to describe me is that I am he, as you are he, as you are me, and we are all together.
Anyway back to that rabbit hole. Back to when you first started to think for yourself, back to that day when you realized. Back to the day started as any other…
Long were hours were spent in our cars, cubicles, and classes. We ticked, and tocked away our nine to fives. Faxes came, and faxes went. Things got delivered, dumped, and discovered. Coffee was drank. Pencils got sharpened. I heard someone slept with someone right before they met someone. There were several unruly clients. There was even a fire drill for Isaac. A bulb burned out in my lamp. Wyatt dreamed of playing Halo.
Thanks to sun the day could begin, and end in such a typical fashion. People awoke contributing there ever so important souls to society. Once more, a thank you to that tick of the clock, we could have another exciting day of talk around that big jug of water.
It is not so much the rising of the sun that we are particularly concerned with on this wonderful day, it’s more of a daemon type thing. We have gathered to here to hear about what happened after that big radiating ball of gas disappeared to shine on someone else. It was a night like you have never known. Well, it would have been, could have been worse than you would ever know.
I was off in my own world doing whatever it is I do. Meanwhile, the other two were off solving their problems left and right. Each one finding answer after answer at the bottom of some empty bottles. This isn’t something too rare when it comes to our clan. There is no doubt that if we‘re not sleeping, we‘re drinking. It is just something that some of us do to in an attempt to beat that tick, and that tock. Oh, that tick and that tock!
I had plans to meet with old ninjas after they were done at the pub, and I finished with whatever it was I was doing.
I caught a ride to pineview with my boy Evan. Pineview, of course, is where it all truly began.
Wyatt and Isaac in there stumbles: journeyed through high wet grasses, and over tall fences on there way to pineview. Isaac pissed, Wyatt laughed. Isaac puked, and Wyatt laughed. Eventually it was in view, that smell that they so pined for. The scent caught up. They were finally home.
My arrival was in complete perfection with theirs. I guess there was no being late for this date.
I jumped out of the car, bumbling up the stairs after the most spectacular of greetings. One step, two steps, four. Why do all my friends live on the second floor? Never mind that, it’s America. Where is the elevator in this day, and age?
We finally made our way into the apartment. It looked just like yours. Things were hot. The party was knocking on the door. Brews were being consumed without a thought. People coming, and oh how these people were going. Music was jamming loud, clear, and distorted. Look! Hot damn those ladies. God damn, I thought the rock don’t ever stop. I was having the best time at the party.
I was so toasted, a pirate I could have been. I, I, I. That is what I thought, I could have been precise. I drink me a beer then take down a winch. Back from the pub, and now the couch. Wow! I am beginning to slump. Look over there I sees me some punch. Off with the ladies, and out with the crowd.
What is happening. A bream came, then a crack in my head. My feet are all wet…
As I regained rational thought I saw a pair of dogs run past me. Wait! I then thought maybe my brain, this thing, in my cranium is not all there. I know these fools own not a dog, and especially not a paradox.
Slap! Just like that back to reality. Isaac, losing control of his physical emotions, had laid down a smack. No more alcohol for that guy, I thought, he has surely had enough.
“Just one more, twenty more, one mores” Isaac said to me.
Punch! That is what I offered him. It was surely making me feel much, much better.
Wyatt, who had drifted away from the alcohol and towards the punch long before the either of us, found himself lost somehow in the bathroom. What was he doing in there? Nothing bad, I thought. He was happy. I heard laughter. Cheer was all around. Why? I knew not.
The mirror had Wyatt by the grips. What is it about that mirror? Oh, that mirror! Was it just this mirror. Could it be every mirror? It was probably the booze.
After so many ticks and tocks of the clocks you begin to wonder. What is your friend doing in that bathroom. Not only do you begin to question him, but your self quite the same. You begin to interrogate yourself as if it was you in the same room. What could he be doing in there? Does the Mirror know something I myself do not. Can it be trusted, tell us something we do not know? Has it heard I am the fairest of them all?Speaking of mirrors, if one dog looks in a mirror, does that make him a pair of dogs? Mirrors, Ha!
Wyatt was finding himself drawn to that mirror. He was drawn to that mirror like nothing before. This moment in his life was at a stand still. Time appeared to carry on no longer. For the first time in a long, long time that tick and that tock came to an abrupt halt.
Wyatt was seeing something in that mirror like nothing before this moment. He was seeing not his just his reflection, rather something beyond it. This site was something far past his own imagination. Wyatt was seeing a new self. At this very tick he realized he was not the person he thought. Wyatt predicted that his life was going to be very simple, to the point. Wyatt was wrong, and he was not about to tell his story alone.
“Shit is getting heavy. Oh, no. I’m lost wondering, and whying. The party is dying, but I’m surely flying. Shit is just getting good. Don do da don don don do da….I am off the boat without a flipper, or a tail. Come on kids we’re going down to Buckingham,” said Isaac in a thoughtless rhythm.
All this insanity from Isaac, not him too. He surely has not gone the way of the mirror. Please not him too. Damn that mirror! Damn.
I’m finding myself in a world of hysteria. My friends have lost what little was left of there mindless thoughts, before this night. They exist previously. Forward.
I need help! I need a doctor! I need a counselor, right now! I need someone on the spot. Who has an M.D.? I need someone who gets up early in the morning. Oh, God! I need a doctor on the spot. The Band is falling apart! Oh, I need a drummer on the spot. Will you be my drummer, Johnny?
What a thought! I forgot Johnny was still around, had not split the party yet. Wait! Who is Johnny? Never mind that.
What is happening all around me? Everything is out of place. My thoughts all jumbled, friends a wreck, and I felt oh so jittery. I am feeling rough. Maybe this is the time of my life? A rush was overtaking me, but this flux said go to sleep. I yawned. Party, I thought!
I am a mess, my friends a mess. Everyone, every possible thing I have ever known were lost, with my thoughts complete chaos. My mind was running through people, habits, and family like not a thing.
A soft sound came over me. I heard Isaac and that’s when it happened. An explosion! Yes! I was now entering the bathroom.
A stallion was crying for help. The television was screaming my name. I did not answer. In most situations I would have acknowledged the call of the telly, but in this moment I was overtaken. It was the reflection, lack there of. The mirror rang out my name. I answered.
I too have now taken victim to the mirror. The bathroom has me! Why? Why have I been taken over by the thing that has my friends.
Noise…
Thank you…
The beat started! I heard it with a fresh feel! It was a folk song about a truck driving man. It was just what I need to hear. It was oh so perfect. Sublime like the chill, and nostalgia that only comes under fullest of moons.
Of course I was feeling this as I rushed through a tunnel. A dark, dark tunnel. I felt as though it was a dream.
Was I ever going to wake? I was falling, and I was not about to stop falling anytime soon. Isaac was there. He was falling too. Wyatt was there, falling along.
The tunnel was long. So long, a pit like nothing I could have imagined before now.
I have seen dark. This tunnel was darker than dark. I have seen fast, and it was faster than fast. This tunnel had no end. It was spiraling into nothingness.
An hour or two had passed. I think? The ticks were now tocking, and the tocks now ticking.
A tunnel this long is not real. Right? Had the mirror consumed us this much? Is it even a mirror? I remember a pair of dogs. I remember a mirror. A pair of dogs mentioned a mirror, a space time continuum. Dogs don’t talk that’s a paradox. What is this gibberish that I speak. I haven’t got a clue.
This space time continuum. Is it real? No way! Maybe I should not worry so much. Things like time, space and continuums are better left to the minds of people like Albert Einstein and Douglass Adams.
This tunnel is never going to stop. So many people I know are finding there way into this tunnel. It keeps repeating itself over, and over again. I am descending into the molten core. I can not find the answer to this black space thing.
I remember a teacher. I remember numbers. I remember them circling me. Oh my teachers. What teachers they were. They taught me so much…
We had the vision, now lets have some fun…
The tunnel slowed after what seemed to be an eternity. There were no ticks. No longer did a tock exist. Time was standing, perhaps sitting, still. Nothing was interrupting this calm. Nothing was moving, but I saw a light.
The only thing that made any type of my sound was my brain. My brain thing was tinging, and tonging. It was quite possibly heading for rock bottom. Bonging, banging, and beeping were all now burdening this thing, my brain.
What was I to do in such striving times. I had questions that needed answers, even answers without questions. I felt like a character I dreamed of a long time ago. Faint memories were passing through my ears with a pressure that no man should ever have to bare. Every thought squeezed in one side of my head and poured out the other like slime, ooze. It absorbed like butter rolling down the side of bread.
God damn! What is this tightness in my head? Where am I ? What lurks in, around, and on top of my brain thing?
Is someone after me, you, all of us?
Paranoia? That is all you fool! It is only paranoia that surrounds this thing you call your brain.
Relax! It is a dream. Just a dream. That is all that is happening.
This is not a joke. Do not take pleasure in my pain. The pressure is getting to me. I am going loony.
Tongs are ringing now, tings stopping by. The house has caved in all around my mind. It is hard to find any sound reason in these thoughts that seep into me like funnel.
It’s moving again. The tunnel is moving. With a great twirl it’s now back in full force with spins, spirals, and swirls.
“Out of control,” Wyatt whispered faintly.
A voice from above then said, “How the hell did we get here?”
Ticks were now tocking in and about. People I knew popped in, and out. How many tocks had ticked away why we floated in this endlessly.
We are suspended in purgatory, perhaps?
A sane man cannot keep up with these thoughts I now had. Not even colossus could handle them with his own bare hands.
Will I ever catch up? I can’t, I won’t. I will never be able to keep up with such ticks, tocks, tokes, tings, bings, bongs, and things.
Should this even concern me? I am a man with nothing left in his brain. I lack all that is sane. My head an empty vessel. My brain, it tramples over me like wheels on a train that weigh a ton by far, speeding faster than my heart.
I hear voices. Paranoia again. That is all. I think? Quit! Thinking is to much for a man of my caliber. Floating is all this sane man needs to do in this black hole, paradox, type thing.
These voices I hear are only my friends. Right? Wrong? Concern is what I need. They could be plotting my death. I am on to them. The voices that plan my death shall have shame brought upon them. Blind they are. Fools they be. Do they know their challenge here. It’s me! Yes, me! Me, me, me. Awesome me. I am me, you see. I will carry this load. I am on my way to a place. I will go, no hesitation. It’s a world that few have, and will ever know. I am prepared for what the this tunnel brings.
What could it be? At the finish of the spiraling funnel. Will it be my demise, or does it lead to a promising new future?
The feeling in my head, and now my whole body, has continuously progressed. Times of serenity ease the pains that pressure my brain. Interruptions are coming though. In forms of bangs, tocks, bongs, ticks, taps, and sounds all the same.
Was I to blame for all this? Pain, this pain, am I to blame? Nothing is left of me. Not a thing. See my son I am now insane, left with my thoughts, and two friends acting the equally sane.
Time is of little meaning anymore. It just goes. We float in space merely passing time, until the next time. Ticks, and tocks no longer belonged to the gods we called clocks. Control was mine, but not for long.
The tunnel was narrowing. I took a look at Wyatt, then jerked my eyes to Isaac. Light was shining all around. I can see with only faint, distorted vision. A man that resembled a western Jesus was meshing into what could only be Satan. Demons, and angels a like crashed into the gods. A town was in view too. A village with people standing upside down. There were dressed up alligators. People pointing, looking, laughing. The bathroom was across from it. I see. This could be our chance. Our way out is coming up. We are about to be set free.
A hand suddenly emerged from the darkness. With one quick scoop it grabbed up Wyatt, and disappeared into the abyss.
I hate to kill the dream, but we’ve lost Wyatt! What do I do? Screw a friend over for the benefit of myself. How selfish could I be. Cold, and calm, a friend. Now in the eyes of chaos turning on a him. Never will I allow such a thing! Not with the morals floating through this brain.
“Isaac turn left from where you are. Take a straight dive for the dark. Follow me. Let us go. Fall into this place.”
3
Someone is Dead
“Four walls that is all I see,” said Wyatt to his lonesome self!
Surrounded by nothing but bulwark, Wyatt found himself in the yellow belly of insanity. He was very unsure of where he could be, how he got there, and how in Boognishes name was he getting the hell out.
“Hello! Is there any body out there. Does no one hear my cries!”
All Wyatt saw was himself reflecting back on himself. Wyatt did not like what he saw. It was not the self he knew. He looked different. He did not look the sane. His image nothing the same. He remembered his thoughts quite different. Right? No. For one reason, maybe another, Wyatt could not even remember before. He looked different. He was certain that it was not him he saw.
“Or is it me, my true self, maybe.”
Wyatt with less direction than myself sat in that box for what he believed to be an eternity. In reality no time had passed. Not a single tick of a clock tocked.
“What is this evil box. It traps me. My soul is no more. At least I’m alive, not dead, but in a box. No life in a box would be such a shame. I’m alive, but in this damn box. I breath, dead I am not. Soon I will be dead, left here to rot. I have nothing but me, and of course, myself. Thinks looking thoughts in my box of a brain. Four corners all the same, four walls. Four walls they hold me. Set me free! Only the cruelest of cruel is at hand. You leave me to hear with nothing. Nothing. Only my thoughts. Yeah, they rot. You hold me captive. No reason. Nothing have I done. Sitting here, trapped, you treat me like an animal. I love. Who are you? Why not set me free. You have no heart. No soul. You are foul. The foulest of cruel. Monkey you want, then beast you shall see.”
With a swift lift of his hand. A tracer followed. He lifted it so high, clenching it into the most fierce of fists. He swung. With the will of a warrior his fist met, what Wyatt thought was glass. With not an ounce of force, resistance, the fall of man, or with anything; not even the stork: he passed through his reflection into a feeling of pure ecstasy.
Wyatt, myself, was the imprisoned. Himself the imprisoner. It was his brain, his mind. That thing. It was working against him, a decameron.
“Tricks, all these ticks,” he said. “Tocks, they are all only in my head.”
The box was anything, but everything unnatural. Wyatt was sure things were not as the should be. He was very far from pineview. He lacked all direction. Wyatt was about to step into something of which he had not a notion.
Wyatt finally made his way through the box, himself. He was in what resembled a small town. The village felt cold, empty. It looked ancient. It looked Greek, or something, but there was no flare. It reminded me of this movie I saw once, maybe twice. Everything was bland, grey. It looked as though it was built by a monkey who got left behind by time. There was no lack of technology. The buildings were stone in structure, but there were hints electricity and irrigation. Windmills gave little light to a billboard. Wyatt was having trouble making out the sign. It was mostly distorted. Sparks shot out, but a few words stood out. It read:
…is watching you.
“That sounds so familiar, but why,” asked Wyatt to no one?
Wyatt knew that he was in a place of advanced culture, but something seemed set back, outdated.
“Where have all the people gone?”
Wyatt wondered how such an advanced culture in the peak of revolution could have just disappeared, leaving their homes behind.
“A plague. No! No rotting corpses.”
He decided that the villagers had moved on for a reason, and it was probably imperative that he do the same. Following in their footsteps he was on his way.
Wyatt was moving in the direction of the brightest moon when his eyes met another pair. Curiously he moved towards the bright blue eyes. They pierced through the darkness. Razor sharp. The eyes glistened. They sparkled. Pure perfection.
“You are not evil,” cried a young woman’s voice.
“I represent not good, or evil,” replied Isaac
“You must be one of the two.”
“Those are merely words created. Invented. A person can only decide what is right for them. Everyone is good in their own eyes. Anyone that disagrees is evil. It is nature. No one is right. Only bigger, smarter, richer, faster, stronger…”
“You’re views are strange.”
“Step forward. I want to see you.”
“You will not harm me?”
“Not unless you intend to harm myself.”
“I do not. Would not.”
“Could not.”
“Okay, I trust you.”
“Then come to me.”
“Yes, Sir. Indeed”
Out of the blackness stepped a beautiful you maiden. Her beauty, it was unimaginable. Breathtaking, all you ever dreamed for. Her hair was long, a dirty blonde, almost brown really, it can even be red if you want, and it was silky, so smooth. It waved in the wind like that perfect scene, in that perfect movie. It waved with such a finesse that demanded a second look. The hair it was parted. A tall spiraling horn shot from her head. The horn glowed with the brightness of a star. It only added to her naturally derived beauty. Paragon was all around.
As the goddess stepped further into the light, Wyatt was struck with a sight he could not believe. The maiden was not as expected. She was not a beauty, rather a beast.
“What, and why,” babbled Wyatt. “What kind of creature do you be. Not a woman. Not a fawn. Was it you? You placed me in that evil box. Your magic it is evil. You are sick. Foul beast! Your beauty has no hold on me. I see through you. Your evilness. Complete sinestry.”
The beast, beauty replied, “ Although I may not look as you, means my heart lacks anything the less. It beats exactly, spectacularly the same. Do you think I not feel? You feel! Me too. We are no different then the birds in the sky. Can you not hear them sing? You only see the obvious. I sympathize, empathize, and hurt all the while.”
“But your body is that of a mare,” mumbled Wyatt. “ It is not right, not fair. What has happened to your body, my fantasty, yourself.
Oh no…
Drift off little dreamer…
“My body,” screamed the Maiden! “I have the body, the face, and torso of all unicorns. No different then your character flaws. You represent all the qualities of a normie.
“You mean human,” replied Wyatt.
“Excuse me,” said the unicorn puzzlingly?!
Isaac not wanting, me too lazy, to go into details for his own sake chose not to go into minutia.”
“I am without my friends, and family alike,” said the female.
“What has become of things, them, your friends,” asked Wyatt?
“We are unicorns, we are people too,” exclaimed the broad! “When I awoke one day I was all that remained. The light was no more. It is not fair!”
“I am sorry, that is unfortunate. Life does not always go as we plan.”
“Lies everything. A lie.”
“Not all, some speak the truth, but very few.”
“I just do not know.”
“Anymore! Me either.”
“I was waiting, just waiting.”
“Waiting? For what.”
“Things to get better, I guess.”
“That is just sad.”
“I hoped someone, anyone would return for me.”
“What happened.”
“I think I slept. Maybe.”
“You are awake.”
“I awoke.”
“Then.”
“I was all that remained.”
“The last.”
“Quite possibly.”
“Sad.”
“I know.”
“So after you were awake?”
“I waited.”
“How long.”
“Don’t know”
“Damn!”
“I know.”
“It has been hard.”
“I bet.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“So after you waited.”
“I waited.”
“More.”
“Forever. I waited, and I waited. I just kept waiting. I watched. I wondered.”
“Then?”
“I hoped someone would come, again, I wondered.”
“After?”
“You came.”
“Do you know how?”
“Not a clue. I noticed you fighting with what I only assumed was yourself. Your mind?
“You saw no mirrors, not a cage? You saw no walls?” Asked Wyatt.
The unicorn answered, “You, and you alone.”
“Me?”
“Yes!”
“Alone?”
“No, no walls.”
“Just, me?”
“All by yourself. Tormenting, and antagonizing.”
“Torturing at times?”
“Yes!”
“For how long,” asked Wyatt? “For how long did this go on?”
“I’m not too sure,” replied the unicorn. “The days they do not change, this epoch as we no it is gone, they days they no longer moves the same. The suns have all gone. The moons are the last of the light that still shines, if any, on my land. The darkness lingers. With each passing moment the light fades. Moons are slowly being eclipsed themselves. It’s getting cold, colder. Evil lurks where there is no shine. Nothing left shimmers. My horn, my magic, they have been fading as well. The darkness that waits in that evil place where the light does not exist, it waits for the sparkle of my horn to be no more. It waits, and stalks. Only harm can come of the black abyss. I’m sure of this. It wants to hurt me, and probably you. Yes! Definitely, you too.”
“This sounds no good, not for me, or you,” Exclaimed Wyatt excitingly! “What could be happening here?”
“I don’t know,” belted the unicorn. “ My ideas, and beliefs are no longer as I remember. My vision is no longer clear. The darkness, I think, could be residing in me. I am scared, and I fear. I don’t know what to do, or where to go. I have a family no longer, not anymore. I may very well be the last of my kind.”
“Things will get better, probably worse before,” said Wyatt. “This I promise, but we must go, be on the move. We must head out this dark, damp land, and into that that shining light.”
“Climb upon my back then,” said the unicorn. “I travel faster then anything by land.”
With little hesitation Wyatt had boarded her asking, “What is your name.”
“Saria,” She said so proudly.
“Well, Saria, I am Wyatt, and I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance!”
The two rode off into the dark hoping to find light. The view, although dim allowed for a little hope. A small, almost spec like light glistened, but it seemed only to be surrounded by night.
As they marched on Wyatt could not believe what he was seeing. It was land like he had never saw. A view that he could not stand. He did not quite understand. There was little life, both animal and vegetation. Where one ended and the other began he did not know. They were all starting to look the same. It was a dark time for him.
A hamster hurrying by stopped, looked up, and said, “sometimes life’s okay.” Then the modest little guy just scurried along on his way.
Wyatt thought, “he is right,” that hamster. “I’m fine,” he said in his head. “I think everything is gonna be alright.”
Wyatt felt a feeling. Something. He felt his whole reason for being was becoming quite clear. Maybe, quite definitely, there was a reason for his existence. His life had some meaning. He would set this world, the people, he would set them so free. Wyatt was going to lead them from the dark. He was going to show them the way.
Saria believed something quite the same. In her head she was there for meaning. She definitely had a reason.
Saria was sad. It had been an eternity since she had seen the likes of another unicorn. She new that her magic may be the last of that which is pure. Evil magic, black magic, was stronger than ever in this world. Something was not pure at heart, but both were blind by darkness, and beauty.
“What do you call this strange, this strange place,” asked Wyatt?”
“Strange,” exclaimed Saria! “This strange place?”
“This place, yes, this strange place.”
“My home, this place, this strange place?”
“Yes come on, this place that is so strange!”
“Infernia Ambigua! It has been my home, this place. It has been my land, and sky for life, eternity. It has been home for all of a tick, and all of a tock.”
“What exactly are you, though, what do you do? What exactly is your purpose, you know,” asked Wyatt?
Saria replied with comment that set Wyatt aback. She said, “I was born unto a superior race. Higher than that of you, or any normie. We had it so simple The unicorns had it all. Time gave us one task, control the light. The magic that is pure, and white. We are a race of everything that is great. We possessed the power, controlled fate. Black magic it did not exist. Time created white, and we took that white, and created black. Someone corrupted by evil gave our magic away. They used it for wrong. Now with every spell summoned, the darkness it grows.”
“I don’t quite understand,” replied Wyatt. “If the darkness did not exist then how could it have been in the first place. How could one of your tribe be so corrupt without evil in the first place. It makes not one tiny bit of sense. You can not have good without evil. Good it could not exist, without evil it would be just be. Good without evil, it is just not that simple. So simple. Evil is just the same, it would have no place, not without good to blame.”
With an unpleasant interruption Saria began to defend what she did not know, “Time would have never created something so dark, so sinister.”
“Time,” asked Wyatt, “The concept, the idea that moves things forward?”
“Not a concept,” scolded Saria! “My, your god, he is our savior. Father Time. He is the one true inventor. Time has made all that you see.”
“I see dark,” laughed Wyatt.
Continuing into her self absorbed speech Saria preached, “Time our father who art in Denver. You know. First Time made Denver and Infernia. Infernia was without structure and chaos, and darkness was upon the face of the figure eight. And Time said, “let there be light”; and there was light. And Time saw that the light was good; and Time separated the light from the darkness. Time Called the light white, and the darkness black.”
“You’re funny,” chuckled Wyatt. “Have you ever heard of black matter, science, maybe.”
“No,” said Saria. “What is this science that you speak?”
“Oh it’s a long story. We will save it for another time.”
“Time? Our god? You mean Tock!”
“Whatever,” yawned Wyatt.
The two, they clicked. They rode beautifully in to the nothingness. Wyatt had forgotten that he was riding on the glistening white torso of what resembled a horse, he was taken by the beauty. He just let her carry him.
All Wyatt could see was Saria‘s pretty face. In all this darkness somehow he found happiness. The death that prevailed all around him was, but a spec. A spec in the far corner of his mind. He was going nowhere. He was going very fast, but taking it quite slow. Time no longer mattered. Not a tick, not a tock. He was on a road to nowhere, but he was surely enjoying the ride. Wyatt had lost all track of his mind. He had no fear, and that is unfortunate, it is. Blind Wyatt was, oblivious to what lurked in and around his head. Maybe he should have thought to fear, just a little. Blind to him he could not see what watched him.
Eyes, black with a pale yellow that lined the rim of them. Dilated, they could see through the dark, and into the light. Wyatt’s eyes had seen the light, but surely missed the black.
Paranoia, you rapturing idiot where is you paranoia. That is what I could not help but think.
“Did you hear something,” asked Wyatt?
“Nothing,” said Saria back to him. “Just the sound of your breath hitting the back of my neck.”
“It strikes me as odd. Very Odd, that it is only us here. You, and me only seem exist. No fear, nothing left to loath. Who tells this tale? It’s not right, not fair. I want to know why I’m in this deep, dark hole.”
“Quiet,” said Saria with a quaint whisper! “You do not want to bring the evil forth.”
“What,” asked Wyatt?
“An evil like no other.”
“What is this evil. This evil that you speak.”
“It is fast It. It is sly, sneaky; it comes from the deepest depths of the dark! It is Amrika that I speak of, a small panther like beast. He is completely black with just a patch of white in the middle of his chest. He where’s a top hat, carries a cane. He wears a monocle to give himself a more elegant look, but it’s all part of his devious tricks. His image is only there to fool you. He is only an it. That is all it ever is, a hypocrite. It came from within the darkness. It is a beast without a soul, or heart. It stalks his prey. Waits, not effected by the ticks, or tocks. He is always there waiting to be woke. Amrika, can shape shift to take on an anthropomorphic form. He, it is a trickster never to be trusted. Amrika, a beast supposedly free, is truly suppressed by all that is wrong. He believes only in himself, forgetting those that got him to this point. In all the whole universe he is the most evil cat. He creates nothing sane. A beast of curiosity, he is nothing but a mess. Amrika only believes in himself, his dreams. He has forgotten everyone else. He does what he likes, listens to no one. It‘s always his way. If you do not agree with Amrika, you‘re wrong. Without hesitation he will invade your space. Amrika will attack you, kill you if you he begin to think about disagreeing. Last I heard he was forming an army, he is striving for revolution, but to him it’s about rebellion, and luxuries. Amrika has no heart, he is in our land, trying to change our way. He won‘t leave, will not let us be. He came from a land they call earth. They say he was not always so evil. He had a loving normie, who took care of him day and night. The normie loved Amrika for all he was worth. The cat started with mice, and birds. He would catch them, kill them, and even eat them raw. Everyone thought this was normal. It’s what animals do. They eat each other. Right? So no harm done, but eventually Amrika turned to normies. Yes! He killed them too. Amrika was supposedly only killing bad normies though. Evil norms that deserved what they got. His normie hid the evidence, but eventually Amrika turned on his owner too. It happened when Amrika’s normie began to doubt him. He did not think it was fair. What gave Amrika the right to judge? He was not the all knowing power. When his normie questioned Amrika the cat ripped him limb, from limb. The normie tried to get away. Amrika was too much for him. He chased the poor norm down, and gnawed him off at the neck. Amrika then, licked up every last drip.”
“Wow, I’m speechless,” said Wyatt!
“Yea, so if you want to live listen to me. Watch your back, and always have an eye out and about.”
“I will do just that. You have given me no reason to doubt. Saria you have been so good to me in just this short period of time. I think you are what I‘ve always needed in my life.”
“Good then, I’m glad to hear. I‘m glad that I found you as well. You are going to help me reach the top.”
They continued to talk as they advanced down that long road. Wyatt grew more, and more fond of Saria with each word she said. This Woman, unicorn, whatever; it was perfect for him. He was pretty sure she felt the same. She seemed so caring, and loving. She had to have feelings equally the same. Right? Am I wrong?
Wyatt and Saria had been carrying on there way for quite a long time. Wyatt did not feel as though they were making any progress. They were just walking in circles, It seemed.
Wyatt was beginning to get a little homesick. This was his first time away from the land he once knew. The people he loved were no more. He had no family left. Wyatt was on his own.
Wyatt felt cold as he realized there was no one left to love him. He thought why even exist if there wasn‘t a person out there that showed him concern. When the bells that died here there would be no funeral. No one would care. He would just rot here in this wilderness. Wyatt thought maybe Saria would show some heart, but he had only knew her for such a brief time.
He was shaking in his shoes right there. He felt weird, uncomfortable as could be. Wyatt was realizing that he was nothing to no one. He was nobody. Without someone he would just be. What does it matter who he is? If you don’t care, why should he?
Wyatt then asked, “Saria, are you my friend.”
She replied, “Well, I guess so. We just met, but you are all I know. I have no reason not to trust you.”
“Would you come to my funeral?”
“Excuse me? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh. Well, where I’m from when someone dies there is what we call a funeral. People come together, and talk about the person who has just passed on.”
“Why would you celebrate someone’s passing. It just seems like maybe it would maybe make more sense to celebrate there life why you have the chance.”
“Wow I never really thought of it like that. I guess it‘s just a way to remember someone. What they did.”
“Hmm? I kind of see what you mean. I guess I would appreciate it if people recalled my life, but I‘ve never done anything to be remembered for.”
“You are helping me. I will never forget that.”
“Thank you, but you shouldn’t be so nice.”
“I have to be. So then would you come to my funeral?”
“I’d prefer not to talk about that. Hopefully it’s something we never have to worry about.”
“It is though. It is reality. We all die someday. It’s a fact of life. Death is the ultimate end. We can try to avoid it. We can stall, but in the end death always wins. It gets us all.
“Shut up!”
“What? Don’t get mad. I am just being honest. You have to be honest with yourself or you will never be able to handle life, or death. You can only hide for so long. Eventually the truth will catch up. You can run, and run, but you will lose. We always seem to win the race to the grave.”
“It hurts my head to think like that. I guess though it kind of makes me happy to get those thoughts off my mind. It’s almost like it feels good to hurt.”
“Well my friend there is fine line between pain, and pleasure. It takes all the pain to be able to see the light. It feels good to be happy. We know this because we have all been sad. Some people will fake there happiness, but inside it tears them apart. They walk around like they are happy with the decisions they’ve made, but they are so sad. It’s all because they are too afraid to admit that they are wrong, and move on. You don’t want to be like that Saria. You have got to follow your heart, and always be true to yourself. As long as you are honest and follow your dream, I don’t think you can go wrong.”
“You are so right. You are so good for me. I’m so glad that you got lost, because I don’t think I would have ever been found if you didn’t come along.”
After getting his thoughts off his mind, Wyatt felt like new. He felt refreshed. At least in his head. He was finally going somewhere again. He was carrying on his way, and he was doing it damn well.
Saria was having some thoughts of her own, but she was having trouble getting them out. She kept them all to herself. It wasn’t that she did not want to express herself. Saria was hiding something. She did not want to hurt Wyatt. She could not. Saria had grown to like him to much. She saw his heart was good, and did not want to see it crumble into nothing.
Wyatt was busy taking in the nature as they galloped though the dark forest. He was resting his head firmly, sideways on the back of Saria’s shoulder. He noticed everything was looking a little more green than he remembered. Where they finally making some progress? It seemed so.
They came upon an old wooden bridge fenced by a gate. The gate was around ten feet tall, made of iron, with large stone bricks laid out from either side. A stout troll like man stood proud, guarding the passage. He had black hair, sticking strait up in the air. A large gold ring hung from its nostrils. The trolls ears were long and pointy like that of a bat. His build gigantic, skin covered by large, gray, leathery scales! He wore a brown kilt type thing, with a vine belt. A double sided axe rested upon his shoulder. As Wyatt, and Saira approached the troll, they halted. The troll stuck out his arm.
“Grumble, grumble, grumble,” mumbled the troll.
“Hello there,” said Wyatt.
“Hi,” said Saria.
“Grumble, grumble, grumble,” mumbled the troll.
“Um, so, uh, can we pass then,” asked Wyatt?
“Grumble, grumble, grumble,” mumbled the troll.
Wyatt thought to himself for a second. Then said, “Um, yeah we are just gonna go.”
Saria, then began to step around the troll. The troll strafed in front of them, and said, “Blubble, blubble, blubble. Grumble, grumble, grumble.”
“Maybe he is asking us a riddle,” said Wyatt “Flubble, blubble, grumble.”
The troll then rubbed his belly and said, “Grumble, grumble, grumble.”
“I know,” exclaimed Wyatt. “I’ve seen this one before. Do you want a bush? Should I bring you a small child. Do you need the to know the airspeed velocity of a swallow. What can we do for you. Do you know the answer to the answer, man?”
“I think he’s just hungry,” said Saria. “That’s why he is rubbing his tummy.”
“Then feed him something,” shouted Wyatt! “He looks a little impatient.”
Saria then reached in her satchel that she had been wearing the whole time, and said, “Let me look in my satchel that I have been wearing the whole time. I may have something in there that can tide him over.”
“What you have food,” asked Wyatt? “You never thought maybe, just once to offer me something.”
Saria then said, “well I have nothing in this purse that I’ve carried on my person this whole while. You shouldn‘t get so jumpy Wyatt. You worry to much. Get down off my back we need to talk.”
Wyatt climbed down looked Saria in the eyes. She then said ,“sorry.” Saria quickly flipped her hip. She used her body to shove Wyatt towards the troll. The unicorn took off, sprinting into the woods. As Wyatt tried to grasp what was happening he was swallowed whole by the troll. Just like that gone.