#futsin writes

“Do you know?”

I nodded. “This isn’t the dream. The school days are.”

Amelia crinkled her nose. “When did you figure it out?” I shrugged, “Leanne asked me if I dreamt of a high school, some place free of all this madness...” she knew I was half-lying and cocked her head, smirking. She wanted the real answer and was amused I wasn’t giving it. Part of my stomach gave and it felt like a relief just to say it.

“When you took my hand.” She suddenly flushed, remembering the moment instantly. “Oh.” She turned on her heel, the gray robes around her swishing across the sandy terrain of the beach. I caught a glint of the jewels in her deep brown hair, the silver chain glowing the orange sunset. “How did you know?” She turned her face back to me for a response. Expectant. I gulped. “Because, in the school, you took my hand like it was nothing. It was physical, but not.... deep. When you reached for me in the dungeon, called out my name, it started to rattle me. Deep, into my soul. And the moment I felt your warmth, it was a pulse that just- it was just knowing, then. I knew it was real.”

It was the night of the All-Night Science Fiction Movie Marathon down at The Princess Theater and of course, we had to go. The projectionist told Rosie Greenbaum, who in turn told Carmine, who in turn told Shirley, who then in turn told me...  that they were playing a new Toho monster movie, the one with the big robot monster in it! So, of course we went and yeah, okay, I paid for your popcorn and no, I don’t resent ya for it. Weirdest thing, though. The guy who gave us back our stubs gave us somethin’ kinda funny lookin’. You know, like somehow we’d swapped bills. My ticket stub was like some kinda golden, glittering thing. Some kinda gimmick? Maybe I didn’t notice at first.

Three movies later and we were cheering with the rest of the bozos in the theater. We were most of the way into The Mysterians, when I felt somethin’ kinda funny going on. You know, that same glitter and gold kind of funny like those ticket stubs we got back.

Next thing I know, there was an explosion and I thought I couldn’t remember when we put our 3-D glasses on.

Then we were somewhere else. Or, I was. I dunno where you were.

You ever have those kind of dreams where you wake up some place completely new and yet you know exactly who you are and what you’re doing there? I dreamt I was a maid in a big fancy house once, and I had to wait on this crazy old woman, but she had a talking dog. It was a weird dream. Anyway, so when I woke up, I found myself in some kind of saloon. And here’s the thing - I was the good guy in a western but it was set in SPACE. Most of me was covered in a jumpsuit like some Air Force pilot, but there were plates of armor on top of that. Some of it was metal, but some of it was like a thick clear plastic. When I started in my seat, I felt two six-guns on my belt and the brim of my hat, and my “dream memory” suddenly told me I was a BOUNTY HUNTER! Hah! Can you imagine that?!

The next thing I know, I’m paying the bartender with one big glowing eye for the drink and he directs me to the Mad Scientist drinking the most disgusting bottle of Shotz Brew I ever seen in my life, covered in mold and fungus from the cap. Mr. Brainiac there tells me that there’s some guy who’s killing all his experiments whenever he sets them loose in some kind of nature preserve on Venus. I says hey, I got my ship payments (I had a spaceship! Oh boy, I can’t wait to see the look on Shirl’s face when I tell her about this), and so we talk, we negotiate and ya know, come to an understanding.

So, I had the coordinates in some kinda doo-hickey on my arm, some kind of communicator radio that let out a sound that went Ping! when I was close to my prey.

Outside the saloon was like one of those costume dramas or musicals. People were singing and dancing. And even though I knew I was some kinda bounty hunter like the cool guys in the movies... me, Laverne De Fazio, was also aware I was in the movies. I know we read in the magazines that they just put a bunch of actors on a set in front of some cameras, and it’s all plywood and paint, but I always wished getting in the movies meant you were actually inside. Behind the silver screen. This place, it was just like it. It is like that.

When I found my ship down the dirt road, it was this beautiful thing like a series of painted vases with little rockets on the bottom and a gangplank leading up into the hatch. It was wild, I can tell you that, feeling like everything was familiar and yet I was someone completely different. That really messes with your head, y’know?

The little thing on my arm going Ping! about where the bad guy was, it talked to my ship in a little chirpy radio voice. My ship then responded in a bigger one that sounded like a great record player. And they were both women’s voices. Man, some progresses we ladies have made in the 28th century, eh? Take that, Buck Rogers.

I strapped into my cockpit and blast off to adventure, then asked my ship to plot a course for Venus and make it snappy. The ship’s voice said I was sounding kinda wacky, so I gave it a thump like Fonzie does to keep it quiet. Somehow I felt like if I didn’t play my part well enough they were gonna kick me out of the movies. After that, I kept my head down and didn’t say anything until a few minutes later, past some trippy universe stuff out in space (SPACE!), the ship was landing on Venus’ surface. There were Ymirs and giant Carrots everywhere, talking with each other and with tons of people. And there was that handsome guy Steve Zodiac, who I don’t think he really exists but I wanted to talk to him. He looked pretty sweet for a puppet. But, much as I wanted to find out if he was still single, I had to go find whatever was hunting Dr. Crazy Guy’s creations when he was letting them out at a nature park on Venus.

A few miles off from where I landed my ship, I was able to find a ravine. A thick yellow mustardy mist filled the place and I had to step careful down a bunch of rocks into a forest. I could barely see more than a few feet ahead of me and it smelled like a dank room full of moldy wet clothes. The trees were straight outta some creepy scary movie set in some castle in England or Germany, and I thought I heard the wind howl like the wolf.

That’s when I caught sight of the tracks of Dr. Crazy’s newest pet; he called it Triphibia, some kind of walking lizard with a pointy beak and wings. I followed the trail in the mud and walked under the trees. The deeper I went, the stronger that moldy smell got, and I found its source real quick when my next step had me slipping around. It wasn’t the mud, it was one of the thing’s wings. There were holes in it like they’d been blasted by some kind of ray gun, but the place where the wing’d been cut off was raw, bloody. Like a big blade had done it.

I drew my six guns and followed a trail of blood after that.

Another mile into the ravine, I came to a clearing where the yellow miasma (hey, I read Weird Tales, I know those kinda words) was a little less thick. And there I saw beast breathing slow and steady in its last moments.

And there you were, standing above it.

I found you in another universe and immediately could tell. Your hair was in a little bun, like that guy in the Japanese movie we saw last year? And you had on a Bellamy shirt of all things, stained in green and purple monster blood, and a pair of tights wrapped in more armor like mine. You had leather gloved hands clutching two rayguns and a giant Viking sword on your back. Somethin’ about you was fierce, powerful. And dang, I kinda liked it.

But you were also in the way and my little radio on my arm was going nuts, telling me that... well.

You were the target.

I remember...

When I found you, at the happiest you’d ever been, it was that really good time we were superheroes. Decked out in the full Clobberella outfit (which you looked great in), kneeling in a backalley in front of a scared little mutant girl who was crying. She’d gotten caught on the surface and was being chased by some scary men that you beat up then stuffed in some trash cans. I don’t remember what you told them, but it was something perfect, I’m sure. After, you were comforting the poor little kid, whose face was covered in too many eyes (all of which were crying - I guess she goes through lots of eyedrops?) and whose hands were like moldy bread. You put a hand on her shoulder and told her, “there, there, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

The girl sniffled with her tiny nose. “I just wanted to bring my mommy something special from her favorite dumpster on the surface. Buh-buh-but those scary humans, they-” and she tightened up, wincing away from you. “Hey. I get scared, too,” you said, “Even with my superpowers, I get scared all the time. It’s why we get to be brave, is because we’re scared.” The little mutant girl looked up at you with a billion eyes and blinked all at once. It was creepy, but in a cute kind of way? And she said, “Really?”

You nodded at her, that smile that knocks me silly every time. But she was still dismayed. “I wanna grow up to be like you, Clobberella. I don’t know if I can.”

Then, you noticed her hands and a particular bit of mold. “Hey... look at your hands. You see that?”

“You mean my gross moldy bread skin?” Her lip trembled.

"People used to make medicine out of it.” And that made her eyes light up. “You mean I can heal people? Like my mom? And my brothers? And that weirdo that tells me to bring him back booze when I go to the surface?” Your smile returned when you lowered your voice to say, “Yeah. And guess what?” Her eyes widened and she whispered back, “Whaaaat?”

“I know a wizard that could probably figure out how you can do that.” “What’s a wizard?” she asked, “Is that like a professor?” “You know what, it is like a professor,” you said, laughing at how she turned the little stretched truth around on you. “He’s a good professor who’ll come up with a way to make your mold cure people. Maybe even cure diseases that haven’t been invented yet! And then you’ll be a hero, just like me.”

It looked like she was going to cry all over again, but the kind of tears that are happy instead of sad. Like, when I find a really good sandwich in the toaster oven. Or when you give me a hug after a bad day.

I saw you take a little sample of the mold and put it in a paper bag floating in the backalley. The little girl asked for a hug and you gave her one, before you sent her back down below the surface. “I can’t wait to tell all the other mutie kids that I’m best friends with Clobberella!” she cried before pulling the sewer cover down.

That was when you turned around and saw me standing there. Usually you’re mad when I eavesdrop. And stare at you. And peep on you in the shower room at work. But, your eye was bright and tearful, and the grin on your face could have lit the entire planet of Trisol for a year, maybe even a decade! And you ran into me, crying out how good it felt and that you were going to go right to the Professor.

Inspiring that little girl, giving her hope, and helping her feel like she wasn’t a freak and that she could feel special? It was even better than getting to use your powers for Good, the way we had that whole week. Well, Mostly Good. We were Okay, is what you had decided when it was all over and people found out Mr. Flimflam’s Miracle Cream had worn off. But we had fun.

I know that was the happiest I ever saw you, Leela. You were incredible. And I was more in love with you than I ever had been before. I never told you that.

And I want to tell you that.

The rusting stone bars of the cage rattled into place and gave another crunchy rumble when the leathery hands of the arena keepers locked them in a quick twist. Five dozen nearly faceless persons watched from the stands and their collective gaze of gold and red made Evelyn’s hairs stand on end. She gripped the sword in hand, took a slow breath. They were up there, the expectation was she would fight, and this is what she had signed up for. The caves no longer challenged her and she wanted something to kill that was a greater feat. The maestro of the arena had told her the very best would be there, captured or by their own volition. They were the worst beings in the dungeon world; killing them would be a service. And she’d already slain so many unknowable things in this place, reflections of monsters that her worst nightmares were afraid of. Hers was a path of destruction and burning crusade toward some inevitable victory. This reminder enkindled her inner flame and waves of heat distortion surrounded the blade of her sword.

Yet it extinguished quickly, when the gate to the challenger’s chambers slid open and a princely young man was cast out. Dark skin under the sharp and cold fluorescent bulbs overhead, hair long and tied back, and dressed in regal garb. Immediately, Evelyn recognized him from both Leanne’s description and a shocking series of memories she couldn’t quite put together in the right sequence. All of it sent alarm bells in her blood, that came up as the challenger gate closed, locking Jax Elroy in there with her. Evelyn turned to the maestro in the crowd. “What the fuck is this?!” She cried out, pointing her cooling sword at Elroy, who was trying to catch his bearings. “This is a good man, not an unholy beast.” The maestro’s eyeless face twisted in a grimace, gray crackling flesh showing the disdain within. He hissed back, “you wanted the best, then a metalbard would be good practice.” He gestured to the shadow crowd. “My audience appreciates steel of friend vs friend.” Evelyn had figured the maestro knew more than he let on, about her and Leanne and Luke, more maybe than that uptight Amelia. Friend? This was her friend and she had known Elroy, in the dreams of the school where the bell rung.

“You called me back from the stars. It was you. You did this.”

The words rang in my head like a guilty mantra, echoing, repeating in discordant delays and spirals. I could feel the pit in my stomach grow, the tension since being brought through the mirror had eased only to be replaced with a deep chasm lined with barb wire and hot shame. It couldn’t be true and I wanted to deny it, yet the gaps in memory said maybe. Maybe I had called this slithering unknown thing of deep cosmic origin, maybe I had let him win and pull us into his eternal limbo, a dream world that we had been caught in for so long I now sought escape.

The gray thing slithered around my brain and no matter how far it’s mouth appeared to be, distant and human some fifty meters away, I could hear it moving right in my consciousness. Deja Vu dripped on the next thing uttered in dulcet tone. “You don’t want to move on.” Where I had heard it, I still couldn’t recall. But it felt like weakness and I prayed that’s all it was, a moment of my fall that the Unknowable had taken advantage of and drawn the world into the void. Though I felt fear, I was beginning to realize in each breath, every intake one I had to force to be real because I couldn’t tell the fucking difference anymore, that it was only going to continue being my fault if I didn’t do anything to change it. I had fucked up. Time to do something about it.

My fists tightened, trying to tense the dry blood between my fingers, feeling the tacky sensation. Something to hold onto. I imagined Amelia’s hand on my fingers. The way her eyes bore into me and said don’t give up, we had come too far. I wanted to hear Evelyn’s fiery rage and fuck you to the darkness. See the glow of Leanne’s light, that showed truth and reminded me of the world that is. Be emboldened by Elroy’s endless determination that energized our blood and set us loose like a guitar solo on octane. Take hold of Bruce’s gifts of power to protect, courage to choose discipline, and wisdom to weave into life with knowledge.

I heard the chainmail on my torso rattle before I felt the air on my rising arm. The Beretta extended out as a sword of my soul. Each bullet left in it, I conjured to being part of them. Part of me. The Unknowable thought I’d faced him alone like last time.

The mouth in the mass of gray shadows smiled. It thought this action was pointless.

I proved him wrong seven times in a row, until the slide locked back and the gun was empty.

The impact of that iron fist knocked the wind right out of me, making a joke of my kevlar vest and the years at the gym building my abs. My knees buckled instinctively and I dropped to the dirt, unable to keep from breathing in the swirling dust blowing around us. The wind was picking up and the storm was getting closer. The mean bastard who’d done this to me laughed and I heard the distortion of his false larnyx made of silicon. Blood filled my ears and tears swelled in my eyes, letting me know I’d emotionally lost this bout as much as my body had.

How did he move so damn fast? It was as if his feet skated in a blinding light across the uneven rocks of the ridge, like maglev technology on the damn ground, and he was on me before I even had the clasp of my holster off. Bastard. Damn bastard. Now he was walking back, crunching steps that shook his exo-suit, giving me the indignity of mercy. He’d won and he wanted me to know it before he killed me.

It’s interesting how destabilizing it is to realize I’ve outgrown that story a bit.