Saturday, July 30, 2011

Fear and Loathing, Part 3

“So that makes four of us living here, if you count Phantom.” This time, having taken the used lollipop out of her mouth, Allure moved to put it in the trash.

Phantom didn’t look at Allure, but it was clear who she was referring to, “Don’t mind her. She says things to get attention. Actually, anything she does, she does to get attention.”

“So you’re Phantom?” Fenrir asked.

“He’s a quick learner,” Allure said, moving closer towards him, “His name’s Fenrir.”

“Is he here because of Claire?” Phantom asked.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”


“You don’t need to worry about me” she remarked, “Intangibility comes in handy, in situations like these.” With that, her form and clothes grew paler, to the point that they were barely visible. Then she flew towards the kitchen, passing through the door, instead of opening it.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fenrir asked.

“She’s just upset ‘cause Claire was a good friend of hers,” Crusty remarked.


There was a silence, as everyone’s thoughts veered in different directions. Fenrir was embarrassed at his insensitive question. Allure was bored, as all this talk about death had gone on for too long. And Crusty was simply aloof, content to watch her T.V.

The silence was only broken by the sound of the television, which suddenly burst into a clamor. “DY-NO-MITE!” the main character yelled. The T.V. was the only one laughing.


“There’s one more of you, isn’t there?” Fenrir asked.

His answer was a scream on the second floor.

Yelling, “Stay down here!” Fenrir changed into his half-wolf, half-man form. Leaping with a speed and agility greater than any human could achieve, he quickly reached the door where the scream came from. Changing into his full-wolf form, he pounced at the door and and broke it open. He was met with another scream.


“W-Wolf?” she cried, not sure whether it was a question or a call for help.


It was only after looking at her slender, frightened form--her messy, chestnut brown hair, her quiet brown eyes--that he realized she was alone.

Changing into his human form, he chuckled, “Uh, sorry. Thought you were in danger.”

He heard another scream. This time he saw it come from the television.

“I’m just watching a horror movie,” she said.

“Why? Not that it’s my business, but--”

“Why would I watch horror movies, at a time like this?” she asked, voicing his thoughts, “They call me Mercury Stone. Merc for short. I--” she looked down at her necklace for a second, “I have an alien stone, that’s powered by fear, mine or anyone else’s. In times like these, it pays to be prepared, no matter how scary preparation might be.”

“I should’ve asked, how
couldn’t you be watching a horror movie, I guess,” he said, looking at her.

“Yeah,” she said, looking at him, trying to muster a laugh, “That makes sense, I guess.”


Looking around her room, Fenrir noticed all the horror memorabilia cluttered everywhere. Horror DVDs lined an entire bookshelf, with a few left over to litter the floor. There were a few posters placed haphazardly, Fenrir’s favorite advertising some crazy B-Horror movie called, “Earth Vs. Spider.” There were even a few books, H.P. Lovecraft being the most prominent author. Next to one of the books, he saw an empty pack of cigarettes, along with a lighter.

“Aren’t you a little young to be smoking?” he asked.

“It helps me calm my nerves,” she said, “when I go overboard on trying to collect fear. Claire used to light the cigarettes for me.” She walked over to the cigarette pack and lighter. Picking up the cigarette pack, she threw it in the trash can. She looked at the lighter, making the flame spark up, for a moment, but it quickly subsided, “I still haven’t gotten used to these things, yet.” Fenrir gave a moment of silence to the way that the smallest of things are changed, when someone you know dies.


Then came another scream.

Fenrir pounced into ready position, only to see that the scream was coming from the television. One of the H.P Lovecraft books flew into the television set, causing the screen to break.

“Oh, no,” Merc said, “Not again. Ugh.”

“That was you?” Fenrir asked, looking at the broken television set.


“That’s what the necklace does, mainly. It telekinetically attacks something that’s frightening me. Sometimes, it even makes me a telepath.”

Fenrir smiled, “That’s great. If anybody comes in here looking to tussle, you’ll probably be able to handle them, then.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Merc said, “but I just don’t know much about this thing yet.”

“How’d you get it?” Fenrir asked.


“Phantom gave this to me, less than a year ago. We’d always been friends and, well, I’d always told her how much I wanted to be a super hero. She says she picked it up from a street-punk one day. It didn’t come with an instruction manual, obviously.” She grabbed at her gold-chained necklace and looked at the stone inside. She glared at it, hoping she could somehow force it to reveal her answers.

Meanwhile, Phantom sat in the kitchen, cutting up an apple. Every second or so, the knife would slam against the cutting board, and the apple would make a satisfying crunching noise.

“You sure do like your knives, don’t you, Phantom?”

Phantom whirled around to see who was talking, even though she knew who it was.

“What are you doing here, Allure?”

“It’s my kitchen, too, isn’t it?” she asked, taking a step closer to Phantom, “I was just coming in here for something to eat.”


“Mhm,” Phantom remarked, not really satisfied. But she went back to cutting her apple, nonetheless.

“Thanks,” Allure said, taking a piece of apple from Phantom.

“I can’t really say ‘you’re welcome,’” Phantom replied, as she finished cutting her apple. Reaching into the cabinet, she took out a small bowl which she then put the bits of apple into. She could hear Allure take a bite of her apple. “Are you okay?” Phantom finally decided to ask.


“About what?”

“About Claire’s death.”

“Yeah,” Allure said, “I just wish everyone would stop talking about it so much. Really, aren’t you the one with the problem?”

Phantom rolled her eyes, sitting down at the kitchen table, “Please, Allure, you’re being too sensitive.”


“All I mean is, you always went around in black. You always had your morbid side. But now it seems like it’s consumed you. Are you feeling guil--”

“Sorry I care about people,” Phantom said, taking another bite out of your apple, “I guess it makes me weird and morbid that I don’t brush off the death of a good friend.”


“I’m not asking you to brush it off. Just don’t let it take over your life.”

“Oh, take over my life? You’re acting like it was years ago. It was yesterday, Allure. Claire died yesterday. And you’re just sitting here like nothing happened. For Christ’s sake, you’re using your powers on a guy you just met the day after our friend died!”

“You can’t just turn off pheromones, Phantom. That’s just not the way it works. My power is to make people attracted to me, just like yours is to phase through things--and out of reality, if I’m telling the truth. Did you turn your powers off when Claire died?”

“You’re impossible,” Phantom said.

“I’m impossible?” Allure asked, “I’m not the one who invited the alien into our dorms, only to take all its stuff. I’m not the one who kicked it out of our dorms. I’m not the reason that thing’s out to get all of us.”


“That thing wanted to take over the world,” Phantom said, “I saved the world by taking its stuff. And then I helped a friend out who wanted super powers. I did what I had to do.” Phantom held back tears, “Claire’s death isn’t my fault. It’s not my fault.”

“Yeah,” Allure said, “It is.”

Back in the living room, Crusty gazed into the television, ever-more enthralled with the meaningless machinations of the characters. Sometimes it amazed her, the way those two-bit characters managed to get out of their troubles.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Turning her head to see what it was, she saw nothing. She saw nothing more than the dark of night. She gazed back into the television. Must not have been anything.

Merc, still up in her room, sighed, putting the stone down. “Maybe I’ll never figure it out. My whole life is centered around this thing, and I don’t even know where it came from, or how exactly to use it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure all that will come in time,” Fenrir said, patting Merc on the back, “What say you and I go downstairs?”


For the third time tonight, Fenrir heard a scream.


“You guys have got to stop watching horror movies,” Fenrir said, rubbing his head for a second.

“But my television’s broken,” Merc said.

“Yeah, I know. But Crusty’s watching television downstairs.”

“No, you don’t understand. Crusty never watches horror movies. They scare her too much.”


Realizing there was nothing outside, Crusty turned her attention back towards the television. There was something so all-consuming, something so delightful--


Something knocked on the window. Turning around to look at it, she saw nothing. But this time, she wasn’t satisfied. Leaning close to the window, she thought she was able to make something out. It was a strange figure. Didn’t look human. She put her nose right next to the glass, as close as she could get without touching it.

Then it attacked her. She screamed as it leaped through the window at her. It looked like nothing she had ever seen before: slimy with eight legs, it proceeded to hop on her face. She grabbed two of its legs and threw it onto the ground.

“Super strength, anger, and mercy. I have two of these things.” With that, she kicked the alien hard. She saw as the thing burst open, its green blood spilling all over the floor.


That’s when she felt something crawling up her spine. Leaping up, she fell back-first onto the floor, feeling the cold green blood oozing along her back. Two more were coming at her from opposite directions.

She was too preoccupied to notice Fenrir and Merc rushing down the staircase towards her.

“What the Hell’s wrong with her?” Fenrir asked.


“She’s fighting aliens,” Merc said.

“But there’s nothing there,” was all he could spit out.

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