Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Phantasms

    I did my best to push out this false narrative.  How did I know that it was false?  Because I was too afraid that it was true.  Things that I find that I want desperately to be true or terrify me that they are true, tend to be the most illusory things of all.  The trouble is...I could be doing that to myself right now.  The doctor offered me a patriarchal pat on my restrained shoulder.  The only place he felt safe touching me.  Just because my name is Balthazar, does not make me guilty of patricide.  I did avoid revealing the connection out of a desire to create suspense.  What can I say?  I have a penchant for the dramatic.

    After several more minutes of exposition, he continued to tell his version of the events of my life, but the words dulled out.  The more he spoke, the more his words became more mundane and less of a huge personal reveal, the further I felt my mind escaping the cage that I was in.  I could hear the voice of Monica just at the periphery of my consciousness.  There were words that were gradually becoming more comprehensible which she was speaking to me.  I used all of my energy to focus on her and not to let the medications suck my mind further into darkness.  “Wake up Johnny,” I could hear her say, and the blood rushed to my head slowly at first.  The blood gradually poured upward into my brain.  It was like waking up in the strangest way possible. 

    It was as if someone threw a bucket of ice water onto me while sleeping, all happening in slow motion.  The mind is aware that the ice water is shocking the system, but the eyes have not fully opened.  The ability to form a conscious thought is not present, but the shapes and colors of the world around me began to fade into view.  The picture and audio get crisper slowly, but the whole time the rudeness of awakening of ice water carried with me at a speed that made the whole process seem like an eternity.  I don't think I have enough good similes, metaphors, and analogies to describe the whole thing correctly.

    That is what it felt like to get awakened for yet another time.  I was on the ground of the carnival and Dayton, Clarence, and Monica were all staring at me with shared looks of terror.  While it felt good to see them again, I was beginning to feel shameful in the way in which my mind was scaring the people around me.  Dayton offered me his beefy hand to pull me up with one of those self-assured smiles that could disarm anyone.  It made the bitter pill that is my insanity, much easier to take.  At least, what we could call insanity anyway.  The definition was becoming much more abstract and more of a general guideline than a hard and fast rule. 

    After we regrouped and I shared what I had experienced, there was a long and very awkward silence that followed that little revelation.  I left out certain specifics of that dream.  What surprised me most were the next words that were spoken.  They were by Clarence, and I shall never forget them.  They were: “There are some carnival folks performing a vivisection on the right over there.”  They were words that almost didn’t register with me, combined with the gravity of the big reveal of the institute.  Then, we all shared horrified screams when we turned our heads over to see what Clarence had witnessed. 

    There were three carnival folks holding down one of the fair goers, and they were using an electric bone saw to start carving up the person they were holding down.  It was an early twenties man with a goatee, and he appeared to be enthralled by the act.  The demonic laughter poured out of his mouth while the others angrily shot profanity at him.  I couldn’t tell what anyone’s angle in this situation was, or who was actually in control.  Once I could focus my eyes totally clearly, I could make out that all 4 of them were sporting glowing yellow eyes.  We suddenly became the focus of their attention.  They ceased their bizarre surgery and started moving toward our group. 

    This would normally be a great time to sit down and have a strategic meeting to discuss group synergy and fundamental corporate strategy.  The most efficient way to minimize losses and provide maximum growth to our professional agenda is to improve our business acumen.  We could formally declare an itinerary and delegate certain tasks to each member of the group to coordinate a final plan of action.   

Naturally instead of that crap, we ran like hell. 

    The way back to the car was blocked by a fiendish mob that was circling and descending on us like hungry wolves.  We somehow ran as a single unit through the horror show doors as it was the least obstructed path that we could see.  I plowed through the tent flap in front of the double doors and bowled over a podium where a pissed off looking host was trying to ask for tickets or kill me.  I couldn’t really tell. 

    The haunted house was filled with all sorts of amusing traps and spooky things that would have been kind of entertaining had this not happened.  The black lights that were kept on keeping the area darkly lit but still visible were flickering.  It was hard as hell to get a clear view of where I was going.  I kept knocking into shelves with glass jars filled with little alien specimens or props of something.  I tried my best to keep from crashing through the displays and tripping myself up.  I could hear Clarence yelling from the left, “Everyone this way!  Through the spider tunnel!” 

    I did my best to run in that direction without even being able to see where my feet were landing.  I think Laurie or Dayton were also struggling to find their way out of the fake spooky laboratory as well because I heard crashing sounds around me as well.  Several props were dropped from the ceiling, and they were triggered by pressure plates or some other mechanism like that.  As I was running, I saw a stretched medical bed covered with fake (I hope) blood and a scalpel laying on it.  I slowed down and grabbed it.  I then continued my run toward the spider tunnel which was illuminated with a green light near a fog machine. 

    I didn’t even have a clue where Mercedes was.  I didn’t have a clue where to find her either.  Before I could even focus on a plan for regrouping, I could hear voices screaming through the area calling for murder, calling for death, calling for the return of all-day fast-food breakfast menus.  I skittered through the tunnel and weaved around many giant plastic and robotic spiders that were either rolled or spring loaded for the purpose of jump scares.  As I was running, I could see hands trying to pull me down by my ankles around the sides of the tunnel.  The hands were only 6 inches from the ground, which probably meant the lunatics outside were belly-crawling to get their hands on us. 

    I made it through the tunnel and the light of bright fake full moon was my navigation point as I stumbled through a lazily constructed cemetery.  There were skeleton hands poking up from the cheap imitation sod and a mausoleum door that kept creaking open.  I could see one of the doors that staff would use to get into and out of the show, and it looked like there were fists pounding at it.  Somehow there was a locked door between me and a horde of angry possessed people.   It was after a couple of minutes that I saw the light of one of the service entrances peeking out near the end of the cemetery display.  I bolted at full speed to my destination. 

    I burst through the door, which I kicked open with no regard for whether it was locked.  I was kind of lucky that the door wasn’t sturdier than it was.  I could have been seriously hurt.  Shame on you, Johnny.  It was when I could smell the sweet freshness of outside air that I could see Clarence and Laurie beating off a handful of possessed loonies.  I had no clue what exit they took to get out of there.  Clarence was armed with a mop from the supply cabinet, and Laurie had a broom.  I howled like a barbarian berserker (or what I hoped was a historically accurate depiction thereof) and joined the fray to help my friends. 

    Clarence jammed the mop head into the face of what looked to be like a devout religious old woman.  Her hair piece and crucifix pendant both flew off.  I guess her faith might have been a bit lacking to have gotten to this point.  She staggered and fell backwards.  Clarence yelled, “Got to run.  We can’t fight this one out!”  Clarence mercifully stepped over the elderly woman to spare her further pain.  Clarence was leading the way toward the car, and we were right there to follow him. He made some distance past her, but when I followed, I didn't bother dodging her as I used her prone body as a launching pad for my jump forward.

    Laurie used the broom to sweep a long blonde-haired surfer-type guy off his feet.  He tumbled down and in an exaggerated fall, shattered his arm on ground by landing in the most peculiar way possible.  He let out this “Whoah,” that made it sound like this was some kind of silly extreme ride or something.  The ways some people get their thrills, I tell you.  She quickly followed Clarence, and I was right behind her.  I had to admit that she had some kind of kung-fu type skill with a janitorial device.  I had to do my best to keep him from dragging me down with his wild pawing when I darted past him.

    While we began running one of the demon possessed approached me from the rear side.  It was an Asian man in a leather jacket with a walking cane in his left hand.  “I am a demon, Johnny!”  He announced this like a game show host doing his typical greeting to the studio audience.  I didn’t waste any time; I just reacted.  I took the scalpel that I found and jammed it into his eye. “Oh No!  That was really inconsiderate!” He said as I pushed him, and he lost his balance and fell backward.  I really hope that he was a demon, I would just feel awful if he was just saying that to be funny. 

    Our run became a mob scene as we started to gather quite a following behind us.  We had a decent amount of space between us and certain doom, but not as much as anyone ever wants in one of those situations.   We rounded the corner of one of the stretch of games booths and then I saw Dayton in his full glorious battle mode.  He had one of those monsters in each hand holding them up by the throat.  He then proceeded to throw their limp bodies into a small crowd of the other demons.  I just want to point out that the use of strength was superhuman, and the speed to have gotten this far ahead of us was equally inexplicable.  I mean this guy looked like a regular at the all-you-can-eat buffet.  Somethings just make no sense, I guess. 

    Dayton seemed confident that our arrival meant that it was time for us all to gather and run as a group.  Where was Mercedes?  That question was immediately answered when I saw her driving the car up, barreling people over as she rode toward us.   Laurie let a triumphant “whoop.” I also heard Clarence and Dayton giving her praises as well.  I was starting to get a strong burn on my side from running so far.  I think the camp food was slowing me down and sticking to my ribs a bit too much.  We very quickly and awkwardly scrambled into the car.  The mob was just 20 or 30 feet away when we peeled out leaving the forces of evil to let out a collective, “Aw, shucks!” 

    The horde of people from the fair tried to give chase, but Mercedes did a fine job putting distance between them and us.  She was able to navigate the windy back roads without issue, and it seemed like the night was going to be without any other events.  I was in the back on the driver’s side next to Laurie.  The feeling of her next to me frightened me for the first time.  Rather than comfort, I suddenly felt like her touch could pull me back into the psych center at any moment.  Thinking about that fact just unnerved me.  

    I thought she noticed it as we were bouncing down the bumpier parts of the road on the way back.  She gave me a curious look and finally waited a moment to see what I might say.  I couldn’t find the words.  “I really hope that you don’t think that if I touch you, that you might pass out again.  I am sure whatever happened back there was an isolated incident.”  I perked up a bit, hoping that her assessment would be accurate.  She smiled at the sight of my mood improving.  “Just don’t send me time travelling to the Jurassic,” I replied.  The joke landed better than I had hoped as the entire group in the car shared some much-needed laughter. 

    As we approached the camp, we slowed down to a crawl and turned the headlights of the car off.  We were hoping that our little clandestine outing wouldn’t attract any attention from the rest of the camp.  What we did was a bit stupid and dangerous, and it kind of put the rest of the camp at risk.  On the other hand, the leadership at the camp would have been fools not to have expected us to go a little stir crazy.  We had no communication with the outside world, nowhere to go, and no access to streaming series to binge on [popular streaming network name removed.] 

    The car was returned to its original position, and we slowly and quietly exited the vehicle.  I also grabbed the backpack with the magical knife I forgot to use. We all exchanged the type of looks that you can only share with those you have had a shared trauma with.  I found my legs shaking considerably, as I began to walk down the road to the center of the camp.  The plan was to make our way around the lodge and creep up to our cabins where we could lie our heads and pretend that the last couple of hours was just a pleasant fishing trip. 

    As we walked down the hill, I could feel a rough hand clasp down my shoulder.  I knew before I turned around that it was Ralph.  I turned to see his stony and very displeased looking face glaring at me.  “Johnny, I see you were eating a bowl of stupid for dinner tonight.  I must have missed that on the food line.”  His voice came out as a near-feral growl.  Ralph didn’t mess around with safety protocol.  Something in voice gave me a deeper fear of Ralph than I had ever had before.  It seemed more hateful than concerned.  I think he realized that I had come to this assessment.  I thought I saw his face soften a bit before Laurie tugged on my arm and said, “we’re so sorry Ralph, let’s just hit the sack.”  I think the rest of the group was just pretending to ignore the not too veiled hostility. 

    After a few more uncomfortable moments, we made our way back to the cabins.  I was still bunking up with Monica, who was waiting for me when I got back.  She looked at me, took a deep inhale, and handed me another necklace.  This one was just a ton of different shells with no discernible pattern or design.  Randomness made manifest.  I took the necklace with a gracious nod.  “This amulet will try to keep your dreams from straying into the hands of those who seek to do you harm.  Dreamless sleep is out of the question given all that has been going on.  However, you won’t get the luxury of being in an incorporeal form in this dream.  You will be made flesh.”  I gulped hard at that last sentence.   “I just need to get cleaned up and I will be right back.” 

    I walked over to the bathroom building and thought hard about a few things that had never crossed my mind previously.  Why was it that I would be in dreams or in a teleporter and sometimes be whole and sometimes be a ghost?  What would determine how much of my being was present, or if I was paralyzed?  There was no rhyme or reason to explain why certain things were as they were.  I puzzled over the time when Monica mentioned that the scientists said they teleported, “the spirit of the bottle.” (when referring to the champagne bottle they teleported) Perhaps there was a part of me that was being teleported insofar as my spirt, body, or both together.  Perhaps depending on the nature of the voyage, it would determine what parts or totality of my being gets teleported.   

    The influx of thoughts had me almost smiling with interest when I was brushing my teeth.  It was when I looked into the mirror that I saw something that truly frightened me.  I swore that I saw a yellow glow in my own eyes.  It was like my own thinking was becoming perverse in a way far beyond that of watching anime characters acting licentiously.  It was the kind of thinking that distorted all reason in myself.  It was like I was crossing into a threshold of forbidden thought.  I was suddenly filled with a supernatural amount of hate.  The type of hate where you feel an uncompromising distaste for anything living or joyous.  The kind of hate where you see happy people enjoying themselves, and wish nothing more than to ruin it.  It was like that but so much more amplified.  Worlds more. 

    I suddenly hated the reflection in the mirror.  I wanted nothing more than to smash the face of the snarky man before me.  My hand instinctively flew into a fist and shattered the mirror.  There were shards of mirror stuck in my hand.  The yellow in my eyes flickered in intensity at the pain I had caused myself.  Something in me, really, really enjoyed it.  It was then, a tiny speck of reason caught my consciousness and pulled me to safety.  Like a safe space that your mind saves for the type of moment where you might do something completely irreversible.  I noticed that the shell necklace on me was vibrating.  In fact, I didn’t even realize that I had donned it.  I yanked it off my neck without another moment’s hesitation.  As soon as it released from my neck, the bile and loathing I felt melted away like an ice cube on a hot summer sidewalk. 

    I don’t know how I knew to do what I did, but something immediately told me I was using something meant for sleep while awake.  It was like trying to carry on with your daytime activities on Nyquil.  It just isn’t recommended.  I slowly went through the trouble of pulling the shards out of my hand and washing the blood.  It felt like it took quite a few minutes to get all 6 of them out.  The whole process gave me a chance to let the thoughts and hate pass from me more fully.  I had to push the thought that was singular in my mind out.  The thought that scare me more than anything else:  “You are becoming just like Thomas Balthazar.” 

    After I got my act together, I walked back to the cabin and tried to think about pleasant things like being a competitive Uno player or doing parkour in a rainforest previously undisturbed by man.  I made my way back to the cabin and tried to avoid any irritation pouring out about the lack of warning label on the amulet.  Monica seemed to be meditating on the floor and when her eyes burst open, they were wide with surprise.  “Oh, Johnny, I am, so, so, sorry.  I just had no idea the total effect of wearing that amulet before you were drifting to sleep.”  She looked really apologetic, and I had to give in to the genuine nature of her feelings.  And I had to hand her some respect for immediately identifying the problem.

    She handed me a pair of sunglasses.  This drew a puzzled look from me.  I guess I was going to have a beach themed dream tonight.  Before I could ask her why, she just looked at me and said, “these will help in case you end up going where you have been before.   Put the amulet on just before you lay down.”  I complied with her bizarre instructions and laid down on the floor with all the pillows strewn about.   “Do clothes matter?” I asked.  She shook her head, and before I could muster the energy of asking a couple more questions, sleep overtook me. 

     It was a slow transition from sleep to dream.  There was a cascade of thoughts in the black vision that swirled around my head.  Most of the questions were incomprehensible and were disconnected insofar as a larger context.  It was all the mysteries I had been facing were suddenly staring at me as I descended slowly into dream.  The world melted away from darkness to light slowly and steadily.  What followed with the darkness a was an itch and maybe a slight burn.  It was uncomfortable, whatever sensation accompanied the dream state.  I also felt more tired than I had before I started sleeping in the first place.  It was like eating food and getting hungrier as you kept eating. 

    I was in a kind of daze when my surroundings came into view.  I was in a room with chairs in a circle, but the room was not lit.  It was like looking into a dark room with sunglasses on.  It really made idea of wearing them seem impractical.  Still, I trusted in Monica and kept them on.  There was an exit door, and I walked through it.  As I walked past the chairs I was hit with a flood of recollection.  I was in the same room that group was held when Thomas Balthazar had called me out to the therapist.  The place seemed desolate and disused.  I made my way to the exit.  It was just as I approached the door that I noticed a kind of wavy figure sitting on one of the chairs.  In fact, a few of the seats seemed to be occupied by blurs of light.  The kind of distortion in the air when gas leaks.  I couldn’t focus my vision on them, and more I did, the more unsettled I became. 

    After a few seconds of glancing at the waviness in the air, the feeling of itchiness and stinging under my skin seemed to get exacerbated.  I made my way through the door and into the hallway.  I began walking down the hallway, seeing odd waves in the air as I made my way to the nearest door.  The window on the lefthand side of the hallway was shining in some light; barely.  I approached the window and was treated to a familiar spectacle.  It was the chilling horizon of the sky filled with cloudiness and eerie purple light.  I was in the mental institution, inside of the “Neptune Chicago” place I went where I crawled up a sewer drainpipe.  It was a combination of the two absolutely worst places my adventures had taken me thus far.  I almost gasped, but the air was somehow sucked out of my lungs.  In my periphery, the wavy gas leak apparitions stirred in response... 

    I started whistling “Yankee Doodle,” and made my way to the door.  The attempt to whistle, while sounding funny in my head, made matters worse.  It seemed like the distortions in the air were beginning to assemble and descend on my location.  My pace increased to a bit more briskly than it was before.  I managed to find one of the doors leading down the stairs and I pulled it open and bolted down the stairs as quickly as I could.  The dull echoes of every sound from my footsteps to the door were all muffled and dead in their sound.  It was like there was something inhibiting sound waves from travelling at their correct velocity.  I really wished Monica brought me a whip so I could try some experiments regarding the sonic booms that they created.  Oh wait, I was too busy running in mortal terror.  

    I got to the bottom of the stairs and ran across another hallway on the ground floor.  There were more apparitions as I ran further.   I was starting to notice a humanoid shape to the gas-leak monsters.  Perhaps they were people or something?  I wasn’t sure if this was a reverse version of the specter that I was during a few travels.  I don’t think I could have had stronger combination of terror and curiosity possible.  The lower level was filled with glass windows that let in the sinister purple light that really made the situation less comfortable.  Something about that purple light causes chills, itching, and burning.  *Talk to your pharmacist if side effects worsen*.  I made my way around a few corners and wound up going in a couple of circles.  This place was actually full of these specters and it finally happened as I bolted through one of them.  I felt like a bucket of ice cold acid was thrown all over my body.  It was the hands-down, WORST feeling ever.  I tripped and fell afterward. 

    I was shivering on the ground for moments that followed me passing through the phantasm.  I tried to get up and it took a great deal of strength to move.   There was a hopelessness and despair that followed the pain of that experience.  It seemed like this would be the place where I would suffer eternal torment and pain.  I was convinced that there was no point to running away and that I should just accept that the pain was part of my new world.  Before the pain and terrible thoughts could consume me, I could see the face of Monica.  It was a look of pleading.  The look of someone cheering me on with a sense of purpose.  I started to pull myself up to my hands and knees.  I was struggling but the despair waves came back harder.  To make matters worse, other phantasms began to slowly hover in my direction.  Every survival instinct told me that they were going to devour my life-force (or something.) 

    A second face popped into my mind.  Well, a face and a hand.  It was Laurie.  I could see her lying on her cot in her cabin with her hand outstretching while sleeping.  She was smiling the most serene smile I had ever seen.  It made me feel like there was hope, and she could help me find it.  That help was the force that pulled me to my feet.  I was suddenly back in the fight, and I began to return to moving through the hospital at first from a jog and eventually to a full sprint down the corridors.  I deftly dodged every spirit that came my way.  They were slow, and I was now armed with the knowledge of how devastating their touch could be.  Stoic determination and resolve took hold of me, and I finally found what looked to be the front doors.   The main problem was that I wasn’t sure how to open them. 

    There were two sets of doors leading outside, each of them had some kind of key card slot.   I wasn’t able to tell if they would work by just pushing them open but it was worth a shot.  I ran to the doors and tried with all my strength to get them to budge, no luck.  More specters began floating toward the foyer.  I ran behind the main desk and tried to find a key card.  There was a drawer that I had to bash several times to open.  Eventually I got in and dug through the bin searching for anything to open the door.  The situation was getting worse in the evil spirit department.  I found it!  Now to try to get it to open...and...it doesn't work.  There was no functioning power that allowed the magnetic lock to open. 

    I was forced to bolt and ran far off to a large room with a lot of tables in front.  I think it was one of those cafes for visitors.  I saw a food station and plenty more wavy clouds of despair.  There was no stopping for lunch.  I continued down one hall, then another, and then another.  It was becoming a situation that quickly exhausted me.  I took the opportunity to get my wind back where it seemed to be safe enough.  It was becoming a real rat in a maze situation.  I was really hoping for some top-quality cheese for this one. Cheddar.  I am a cheddar man after all. 

    Finally, during all of this draining marathon, I started to read some of the signs posted around and got a brilliant idea.  The laundry room.  I followed every sign to the laundry room, making a couple detours to avoid the looming specters when they grew too many.  They didn’t seem to have a long attention span for following me, but there were just so damn many of them.  It was like being chased by a horde of ADD afflicted monsters.  Mental disability insensitivity aside, I managed to get to the door of the laundry room, and it was actually wedged open with a towel.  Someone had used this exit before. 

    I darted into the laundry room and found what I was looking for.  It was one of those tunnels leading from where the laundry carts emptied the clothing to the outside of the building. I climbed up and into the tunnel, slid down for a few exciting seconds, and landed safely on a pile of towels.  The towel pile was placed outside in a large bin, and I landed with a soundless thud.  When I finally saw the outside world, it became clear why Monica sent me off with these sunglasses.  Even with protective eyewear, the sinister violet light pierced into my eyes with relentless abandon.  I saw nothing but a parking lot and woodlands around me.  There was also 15 feet high chain-link fence surrounding the perimeter of the facility grounds.  I had a slight navigational issue here. 

    The feeling of stinging and itching evolved into a coldness that lurked just under the surface of my skin.  I heard no ambient sounds from the woodlands.  No birds chirping, no trees rustling, and nothing else one might associate with a fine camping trip.  It was worse than coming upon a dead world, it was like coming upon a world that just never lived.  I didn’t see any specters in my immediate field of vision but that meant precious little in the land of madness.  I began jogging across the parking lot hoping to find something that looked familiar.   This was not the same institution that I had escaped from. 

    There were cars parked in the spots and many of them were parked haphazardly.  It looked as though things were falling apart prior to some kind of extinction level event.  I still tried to find some working vehicles that I could use to carry me on my merry way.  I was in luck!  There was a blue Jeep that was parked with two wheels up on the curb.  When I peered into the side of the vehicle, I saw that there were keys still in the ignition.  I hoisted myself up and sat in the driver's seat.  I turned the key.  I was in luck!  Because it didn’t blow up.  But as far as a working ride... it was a wash. 

    I gave up on trying to find a ride and began looking for the road out of there.  I noticed a check-in station on the perimeter of the grounds where vehicles entering the grounds would need to stop.  As I got closer, I could feel the icy terror of knowing that there were more ghostly fiends around where the guard station was posted.  It was then I began to come to a slow realization.   These were the ghosts of all the people who were once here, or some kind of imprint of their energy that remained in a dead world.  I tried not to focus on the thought of being one of millions of ghosts left on a dying world. 

    Frustration and desperation yielded way to a slight elation of the mood.  I saw a bicycle propped up against the side of the check in building.  I moved at full steam toward the bicycle and made it a point to dodge the specters who were slowly descending on my position.  I managed to avoid a repeat incident that comes from touching one of these abominations.  I pulled the bike upward from the wall and set it down.  I can’t recall what brand of bicycle I took.  I was in far too much of an emotional state for brand recognition.   

    I hopped on the generic bike and began peddling it past the check in station and down the road leading away from the building.  The thrill of moving at a higher clip was really giving me some kind of joy to find the stinging madness that ate away at the very fiber of my being.  The tires were semi-flat, and it made peddling very difficult.  Despite the challenges of moving on this thing, the joy of being on a bike was making my night easier.  As I passed several specters and hurled profanities their way, I swore I could see Monica telling me to keep pushing on.  I was somehow going in the right direction. 

    I was making quite some distance down the road, and I was out of view from the specters that I left behind.  The vacuum cleaner that sucked all the joy out of this world was still having a serious effect on me.  I could see a few abandoned cars on the road as I continued my aimless trek into the unknown.  I must have been going for miles down the road and the bike was becoming extremely burdensome to ride.  The stinging and burning of my skin began to take physical form.  I looked at the exposed skin on my arm where the T-shirt ended and saw that my skin was forming blisters.  It was a slow burn, but I knew that I could not survive in this type of environment for long. 

    As I made my way down the road, I saw a sign for some kind of power station on my right.  It looked to be down some beaten path that was intended to be discreet.  This was certainly no tourist attraction.  I held my breath in fear and hope as my bike began it’s ascent upwards on a gravel road.  After about 500 feet or so, it became obvious that this bicycle had outlived its usefulness.  I dumped it to the left of the trail and began to walk at a brisk pace.  I wanted to run terribly, but I was winded.  The exhaustion of not having a proper break and a hostile environment made for abysmal bedfellows.   

    I finally made my way to a building with rows and rows of electrical pylons of some sort.  I don’t recall ever seeing such power stations where I lived.  For some reason, the machines were humming like they were still active.  In a world where everything was dead, the fact that a place like this was up and running was more than a little suspect. I slowed my pace down to a walk as fear began welling up in me like never before.  I started to notice the strange shapes of air distortion and a general haze of something.  It looked to be like smoke or fog or something.  It had this odd yellow color, separating it from the violet light that covered everything else.  The sunglasses did a bit of helping from the discomfort of even gazing at the unnatural fog.  

    I could feel Monica pushing me onward into this building.  Every instinct was telling me to just run and hide somewhere that wasn’t yellow and/or purple.  If I had anything in my mind come up, I would have taken the cowards path right then.  The large steel door to the compound was open thankfully.  The door was actually held open by many lengths of bungee cord keeping the door from shutting itself.  Some of the cords looked frayed and like this situation wasn’t going to last forever. I held my breath and crossed through the breach. 

    The inside of the building was some kind of vile institutional gray.  There were white fluorescent lights on the ceiling that were somehow still receiving power.  This place was some kind of last bastion of technology in this wasteland world.  I began walking around the building and discovered hallways and rooms of all shapes and sizes.  The doors were all automatic and stuck in the “open” position.  I found some supply rooms, I found some generic laboratories, and I found a room that looked to be a very small engineering bay.  “HERE,” I could hear Monica’s voice echo out in my head.  It looked like some kind of blueprint.  There were also pages and equations.  I instinctively grabbed as many documents as my arms could carry. 

    My trip around the facility was a bit of a maze situation, but as I roamed, I got the handle of this place.  I could still hear the hum of the electrical generators working around me.  The physical discomfort of being in this world was somewhat abated by my current surroundings.  I noticed that there was some kind of metal and foam padding around the walls and ceilings of these buildings.  I guess there was a way to reduce whatever was distorting the laws of nature around here.  I was almost certain that my trip was turning into a lost cause when I discovered a very large room that I hadn’t seen before. 

    There it was.  It was this huge purple nexus of energy.  It looked to be swirling recklessly, and it would periodically push this yellow fog out of the center.  I noticed that there were these vents that seemed to be sucking the yellow fog out this chamber and (presumably) right outdoors.   Approaching that swirling mass of  yellow and purple was the most foolish and brave thing I had ever done.  This was not going to be fun. 

    Before I could slowly walk into the distortion, I was struck by a terrible thought:  If this was the place where Thomas Balthazar was taken for mental health treatment; why would such a facility be so close?  It dawned on me like some sickening revelation.  Someone or something wanted to see just how much they could push the envelope.  I think I felt something that resembled pity for Thomas.  I think that he might have just been continuously exposed to harmful substances for the purpose of documenting its effects.  They didn’t keep him in that institution to help him; they kept him there to watch him fall apart and take meticulous notes.  The pronoun “they,” suddenly made me feel small and very much outnumbered in this problem. 

    Every step toward the swirling maelstrom brought more pain and more negative thoughts.  My stomach was in knots.  I had to stop 3 times in 20 feet to keep dry heaving.  My body was rejecting my trek through my stomach, and my spirit was weeping from the terror that lay inside.  I was hit by the thought of getting home through this thing as the equivalent of jumping into the chlorine tank to get into the pool.  There was something raw and unrefined about this portal.  The last conscious thought before I made it into the Aether was:  This is what it is like to go through a Daedalus Gate without any of the protections of the machine that the knowledgeable scientists had constructed. 

    I was ripped through the hole and my body began sucking into it the same way one might think it would occur with a black hole.  My body began to crumple up and twist toward the center in the same fashion that a toilet bowl flushes.  It was just as painful as it sounds, my body was being twisted, ripped apart, and reassembled. The burning echoed in my spine like a thousand cannons firing at once.  This was everything bad about gate travel without the safety nets that I was used to.  Some way, somehow, I was able to clutch onto the documents and blueprints well enough that they came with me. 

    I woke up with smoke pouring off my body.  My clothes were shredded, and I could see the skin on my arms bubbling and blistering from some kind of burning force.  The smell of my own flesh being cooked filled my nostrils, and the dry heaving gave way to full vomiting of phlegm and bile.  This had to be the worst traveling experience ever.  My travel agent was so fired.  I could see Monica’s face wavy in the distance as I kept trying to gasp for air. 

    “Oh God Johnny!  Let me get you some aloe and [some kind of hippie herb I can’t recall]!”  Monica called out looking distraught but determined to provide some kind of aid.  Now I am all about natural remedies as much as the next guy, but I needed extra strength Ibuprofen at the very least.  Probably some Neosporin, and a space blanket.  Oh yeah, and mouthwash.  My mouth tasted like I was feeding off my own flesh.  I couldn’t quite stay awake from the pain, but I could not fall back asleep.   

    I think the shell necklace was taken off, and my clothes were changed by some nice people.  I don’t remember much about the next 12 hours, but they were spent being nursed to health by a conga line of Eastern and Western medicine.  Most of the time I spent huddled on the ground trying to shake off the pain.  I think someone congratulated me for getting documents from the dream world.  I have no clue how any of that paperwork survived.  I just knew that I was in a state of survival mode.  Laurie and Clarence visited me a few times to keep my spirits up.  They were really sweet to me but it was hard to focus on anything they said. 

    Eventually, I gained enough strength to get onto my feet.  Dizziness and headaches were exceptionally strong for the next several hours.  I felt just hungry enough to hobble down to the cafeteria when I could.  Almost everyone I passed walking down there offered me help walking or just came right out and helped carry my weight.  More than I was hungry, I was just thirsty.  I had water dripped into my mouth and almond paste pushed onto my gums, so I was still able to replenish my basic hydration needs.   I finally made it to the cafeteria, where I plopped down on one of chairs where grits and water were served to me.  It took considerable time and effort to eat the food and gulp down the water.  Finishing that first meal was surprisingly helpful to my cause.   

    I spent the next day preparing myself for what was to come.  I got back to my full strength and was eager to help the others around the camp.  I had to look around that evening to find Ralph and get some kind of status report of what was going on.  I was more than a little surprised to find out that day was Saturday.  The camp was running out of time before the grand entrance of our supernatural tormentor.  While I got a lot of encouraging looks and feedback, I could tell the lingering fear in the camp had only grown while I was out of commission.    

    While searching out Ralph, I ran into David McCallister.  He wore an expression of both concern and disappointment.  He turned to me and said, “Johnny, we need to take a minute to talk about what happened and what will happen next.”  I shifted my eyes nervously as if to reply, “who me?”  David could see my discomfort combined with a very weakened physical state from my ordeal.  I think it gave him some measure of satisfaction that I was in so much pain.  Like my punishment was already served.  “We were all ready in the camp to protect your mind, and you and the others vanished.  It was an awkward time that led to a very limited search of the area for all of you.   Luckily, Harold had some kind of hint that his daughter was in one piece.”  I was going to have to check over Laurie for an RFID chip.  

    David took a measured breath and set his hand on my shoulder.  It felt like someone slapping sunburn, if that sunburn ran all the way down into your bones.  He pulled back when he saw me wince in pain.  “I want you to know that we can make your dreams safe when you sleep here again tonight.  As long as you don’t go on some hairbrained scheme with your inner circle, then we shouldn’t have a problem.”  He offered a bit of a pleading look that suggested that he wanted or needed me here to maintain control over the situation.  “I won’t stray again, for sure,” I said with honest conviction.  He looked off for a moment as if to frame a totally new line of conversation. 

    He broke a very brief silence with the words: “Harold Felter has discovered far more information from the blueprints and documents than we would have expected.”  Personally I was surprised by this fact, when I assumed he invented those machines.  David explained how the machine in that strange purple Twighlight future was a 2.0 or something, maybe a 3 or 4.   However many iPhones there are currently maybe?  In any event, someone had picked up where Dr. Felter had left off.  “Separating your body and spirit through time can be quite a process, and we believe that you were visited by the specters of a world that cast off its corporeal remains.  You were in a ghost future, Johnny.”  David kind of made a face or gestured that he was doing his best to give me a second hand interpretation.  If I wanted a more specific explanation, I would need to get closer to the source.   

    The trail of information led me to conversations with Monica and Laurie to begin with.  Monica explained that she relayed the dream’s narrative to Dr. Felter along with some, semi-damaged documents.  Laurie said that her father was locked in one of the camp offices with his “old smoking pipe and a bottle of brandy.”  According to Laurie, this meant that the old man was in the equivalent of a cell-phone's “do not disturb” mode.  The only  good thing about this sort run around, was the fact that my body, and to a lesser extent, my mind were becoming more  healed.  The camp food and atmosphere were keeping my spirits and health up. 

    Laurie beckoned for me to speak with her again while making my inquiries.  “I hope your haven’t been having dreams about the mental institution again.”  I gave her a strange look.  “I have been keeping my dreams to purple twilight worlds, and wavy ghost people.” I said trying my best to be adorable.  She shook her head to diminish the relevancy of my most recent dream adventure.  “Sometimes, I find myself back in that place where we spent our time together.  Sometimes I try to talk to you and you barely recognize me.  It is as if we are living two simultaneous lives together.”  She turned her head away a bit shamefully.  She totally missed my eyes bulging out in surprise. 

    “I have had dreams like that myself,” I admitted while reaching my right hand out to pat her left arm.  She leaned into it subconsciously.  She then turned up and shot me a nervous look that I could immediately read as the one that I get the most in knots about.  Maybe where we are right now, isn’t real.  When I glimpsed into her sparkling emerald eyes, I just knew that I was in the world I call home.  It was that feeling you get where you shake off the cold after coming back from work and you know you are safe.  Demon attacks and everything; this felt safe. 

    “My name is Johnny Balthazar,” I finally said after a moment passed.  The look of surprise on her face was a bit more than a small reaction.  She cupped her hand over her mouth like she had witnessed a 10 car pile up on the highway.  “I guess we are both confused about our mutual paternal issues.”  I tried to be funny here I think, but who can tell what constitutes as funny anymore.  “So, is Thomas your father then?”  Laurie asked  her question trying to sound as impartial as possible.  I let out a world-weary sigh and told her what I knew to be the current version of the truth. 

    “My father was a man know as Steven Balthazar.   He was a good father and a kind man, but nothing special.  He worked in a soda bottling plant for a huge portion of his life and suffered from typical kinds of heart disease.  The name Balthazar was a small family name and there were no other Balthazar’s on my father’s side of the family.  It was a name that his father got when traveling through Ellis Island.”  I gave her my rehearsed and honest family story.  “The name Thomas Balthazar is that of a person who is not actually my relation, but the name is the same nevertheless.”  I studied Laurie’s face for belief or mistrust.  I think she was willing to listen to my side of the story.  “The guy calls himself Azmodariel for crying out loud!  He could be saying whatever he wants to play with my head.”  I was starting to get a bit annoyed by my own observations.  Laurie became more confident than ever that I was trustworthy.   

So, there it was, either Thomas had the same last name as a happy coincidence or that he was simply full of it.   Either way, it didn’t fill me up with the sounds of “the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon...”   I chose to avoid revealing it because I wanted to avoid this conversation, but I suppose it was inevitable.  I had to process the shock that I was with Laurie Felter, so I guess the reveal had to be mutually devastating.  Laurie Felter and Johnny Balthazar; what a pair.