Sunday 14 May 2017

Those That Dream Of Demons - 06




“Hello this is Wolfe Reality, my name is Riley. How can I help you?” The help desk operator called answered when I called the company.


“Hi I recently bought a game Vigil Until Dawn, it was for my younger brother but I didn’t realise that he literally couldn’t play it. So I would like to cancel my order.” I summarily my situation quickly.


“We can do that sir, however, you won’t be refunded for the one-month subscription you paid for when you got the device, the uninstallation is free and can be done whenever you require it.” Riley smoothly explains what the deal is to me.


“But I can be refunded for the capsule itself?” I throw a question.


“Yes, we can clean it and have it reused easily sir.” He answers and I nod to myself.


“Uhh, there’s no point wasting a month's subscription, I might as well play it until that ends.” I say to the operator.


“Exactly sir, I’ve got one myself at home and it is amazing, have a good morning and I’ll record your number to call back when your subscription runs out, bye!” He cheerily hung up. I take my kit and I pack my bag to go to the gym, it’s a Friday morning and Dominic has gone to school, then going to home to see mum and dad. Little fucking spy.


A few sharp knocks bring me to the door, I peer through the peephole and see a woman. Her hat was blocking her face but I could tell by the figure. She’s wearing a white long sleeved shirt, a checkered white and black tie with a big black overcoat.


Oh and stab proof vest that said ‘Police’ on it.


As she was going to rap my door again with her fist, I throw it open. Her partner must be watching the fire escape in case I run and if I have to run I would choose her that I am physically larger than rather than an unknown potential threat, not that I’ve done anything that would warrant the police knocking on my door, still. She looks rather pissed off at me. We stand there for a few seconds before she releases a venomous tone into the air, which sounds like the words


“Well? Aren’t you going to let me in?” I flinch a bit at the sound of it and make way. She makes her way to the kitchen and starts inspecting the place, “How long have you been back then?” She interrogates me, I ignore her for now and look at her face. She took her cap off when as she walked through the door so I can clearly see her face now and... Of course, all the pretty ones treat you like shit. She has hazel eyes, black hair, caramel skin and red lips. She talks in a clear British accent of southern England but her heredity is not of the United Kingdom.


“Well?!” She slightly yells out with irritation written into the tone of her voice, oh god is she someone I was dating before I got deployed? Please don’t be that awkward, please, please, please, please just be a friend.


Wednesday 10 May 2017

Those Who Dream Of Demons - 05





“Holy shit,” I mutter at the screen, it’s been awhile since I’ve been gobsmacked. He will love it, he’s a proper gamer and would love the realism taken to the next level. I place an order for it and head home.

It’s just my little brother and me living together in a two-bedroom apartment, it has a fully functional kitchen but that also doubles as the dining room, which happens to also be the living room. It’s a little small but I call it compact and everything is where I need it to be. Truthfully we don’t live together but he enjoys spending more time with me than he does at our parent's house, it’s also closer to his school. I just can’t work out if they’re doing it for my benefit of not being alone, his for being closer to school or theirs to get us out their hair.


I sigh as I walk back in, I can hear the TV on and the sounds of gunfire, I don’t know why he likes these warry games. You would think with what happened to me he wouldn’t play it in my house but, I guess that’s what I like about him. He doesn’t give a fuck and will just treat me as his brother regardless of what’s happened to me. “Hey, Dom.” I collapse into the sofa next to him.

“Hey, Ric.” He doesn’t glance away from the screen and proceeds to get killed in the game, he releases a disappointed sigh and respawns. “Gi’me some Tac advice.” When I first got back and he said that I had no clue what he was on about, but I quickly picked up that he wanted me to guide him into winning.

“Left… Climb that ladder… Hide in the corner and listen.” We both listened for footsteps and we did hear a couple, after confirming it wasn’t teammates by the map I gave my advice. “Cook a flash, turn the corner slowly and aim at the legs.” He did exactly that, and we were both brought to the respawn menu. This time we both sighed.

“It would’ave worked if the game was more realistic, and people gave a shit about their avatars and not throwing them around like fuckin’ slabs of meat.” He whined and I nodded.

“Which reminds me, I bought you a game. They said it’ll be here and installed within the week.” I explained, he looks at me with a skeptical eye trying to work out what kind of game would need to be installed and not just bought.

“No, no, no, no. NO!” He shouts tossing his controller to the side and placing his hands on his face in sadness.

“What?” I stand up again and take the bag of groceries with me to the kitchen counter and begin unpacking them.

“Look, Eric, I love you to bits but you’ve practically placed a fuckin’ fifteen-pound steak in front of a wolf but chained with the wolf to the fuckin’ fence!” He cries out exasperated, it must be a good game if he’s acting like that. “I can’t play it, it’s age restricted.”

“So?” I scoff at him like that’s stopped him before.

“Look you muscle fuck, it’s able to tell your age since you have to physically step into a fuckin’ pod, so it will know I’m underage.” He talked with his hands and making chopping motions as he said each word slowly at the end.

“Oh.” I finally understood.

“Dick.” He complains and respawns in the game. It looks like I’ll have to call them tomorrow to cancel the order and I thought I’d get out of Tac advice.

Sunday 7 May 2017

Those Who Dream Of Demons - 04





I release the bar above my head and land on the floor, rolling my shoulders I take a deep breath and contemplate my next exercise. I glance around the gym and see around twenty other people, the majority male while physiotherapists flitter between each patient. It’s encouraged for other patients to interact with each other during their exercises, as it gives them motivation, encouragement, safety if the weights fall on you and keep some people coming back to the gym to complete their rehabilitation.

But I’m by myself, my own fault of course. I threw a ten-kilogram weight at someone when they grew frustrated at me for generally being slow when they ask me questions, they were patient at first but eventually, I was just in the way.

Now it’s eight months later from the time I woke up, I spent two months in a medically induced coma so a total of ten months since my injuries. Although I’ve mostly healed, my body has grown weaker from not training during those two months sleeping and even more so from at least four months taking it easy. I shake my head to try and rid myself of these thoughts, it’s Thursday so today is shoulders and back.‘Rowing.’ I think to myself and making the changes to the adjustable tower, I take a sip of water. Like a machine I work until my limbs are sore and ache, I seem to have a hard time gaining muscle and it requires me to constantly push myself harder every time.

Quickly finishing every exercise I have left I take a shower here and leave, I hate the atmosphere of that place and the people, especially the people. Pitching up their voices when they talk to each other feigning interest, the eyes as you’re evaluated like a piece of meat in front of the physiotherapists. Or is it the fact that I’ve acknowledged and conform to it just to make everything easier on myself, to get this over quickly and not raise a fuss.

I take a deep breath in and exhale it slowly, I push these thoughts out my mind and just focus on observing the street. Playing the game of ‘Who might you be?’ and trudging along to the market. I take the list out of my pocket and begin buying all the ingredients required for tonight's dinner. I stop by a game store and contemplate buying a game for my younger brother who's fifteen. I spend a few minutes looking at the advertisements, there seemed to be a new game coming out, it has a really flashy intro for the developer and title but then the music goes quiet.

I watch two hands covered in thick white gloves move around as though he’s in water, the character slowly climbs its way up a ladder and peeking over the edge is an azure sun. Blinded by the light the scene changes to a speeder ship mid-race, crowds of people are there cheering on their favourite pilot, the camera goes under a speeder and the scene changes again. Now they’re racing around asteroid belt shooting in a death race. In the explosion of one crashing into the belt the camera rapidly zooms out from a mech firing its cannon, it isn’t a standard bipedal with two arms mech. It looks like an AA gun with four legs and it’s dishing out the hurt to a platoon of infantry space troopers. Then an explosion rising up in the background blew everything away leaving the name of the game again.


Thursday 4 May 2017

Those Who Dream Of Demons - 03






I woke up with a headache, I looked around and found a pitcher and jug of water and filled it up then slowly sipped from it. My mind feels muddled as if I slept too long or too little, I tilt my head and crack my neck in both directions while I get to grips with my surroundings. White sheets, white privacy curtains, aluminum frame bed, dull chatter from behind a wall and the smell of disinfectant. I know what this place is but the name is on the tip of my tongue, it’s rather large, houses the injured and heals people.

A hospital.

I smile at myself for remembering what it is, I look some more around my bed and find a controller and press a button. I hear a faint ringing noise from behind the thin plaster walls and the chatter stops. I hear a door click open and a few footsteps scan around the room, “Hello did anyone press the button?” I hear a male noise call out.

“Y-yes.” My voice cracks and I cough to try and clear it, the nurse or doctor heads in my direction and pulls open the privacy curtain, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Excuse me I’ll be a few seconds.” He rushes out the room and I hear him ask for help from a person called “Moira”. And before I know it I’m having a light shone in my eyes, asking for me to wiggle my toes and move my fingers before asking me for a few questions.

“Do you know where you are?” Moira asks.

“A hospital,” I answer quite proudly having figured it out myself she nods.

“When were you born?”

I opened my mouth to try and answer, it was on the tip of my tongue like the name of the place I’m in but I didn’t know.

“Alright instead of that, your age?”

I feel myself go cold, my stomach knots itself over and over again.

“Name of your first pet?” Her voice grows concerned and I shake my head with a no.

“Your parents' names?” I say nothing.

“Your name?” After a few seconds, she probably circles the ‘no’ option on her clipboard.

“Can I have a few minutes?” Moira and the male nurse nod and leave, I turn my legs over the side of the bed so they’re hanging over the ground. Running my hands through my hair I try and work out what’s happening to me. It’s a hospital, but how did I get here? Why can’t I remember my age? My parents, my pets, who I am? I try and swallow but I feel it get stuck in the back of my throat out of fear.

I start hyperventilating I don’t understand, but it isn’t long before they re-enter the room. I think they waited a literal minute, Moira, the male nurse and a new person who looks like a doctor entered.

“Mr. Eric, my name is Logan Lawson, but just called me Logan,” he introduces himself quickly the politely gestures to the female nurse, “this is our resident nurse Moira Jefferson and the lad here is Greg Franklin who is currently training here,” Logan explains but the only part I focus on was my name is Eric.

It doesn’t feel familiar at all.

“I’m sure you have many questions and many more worries, however, I assure you this is just a form of post-traumatic stress, your subconscious is just trying to protect you. I’m one hundred percent sure your memories will come back with time. But first, let's allow the nurses to get rid of the tubes.

After ten minutes I was free of them all, I’m surprised I didn’t notice them until now especially the ones in the more risque areas and I was changed out of what felt looked an apron. Soon I was talking to Logan once again while he pulled out my folder.

“You are a Corporal in the British Army, your name is Eric Forsyth. You were serving in Syria before getting injured by an RPG, you were ambushed and overrun. Do you remember anything?” He asked reading it all from my file without looking at me, he irks me immediately. Shouldn’t he read it then address me after?

“No,” I answer coldly, he sighs and closes the file.

“Okay, I’m going to have to put you onto rehabilitation for one month in the hospital, while I recommend two years total. I’m sure your family will be happy to have you back awake and well.” He gets up from his chair and puts the file away, too many questions fill my head before I can begin to think about family. Do I have a lover? Kids? Brothers? Or Sisters? Am I adopted? Nothing from the Earth to the Sun could gauge the worry I have.



Just who am I?