He was in a room full of strangers. They were all holding hands, seated around a red-cloth covered table with a single large black candle burning in the middle, the only light in the little room.
There was a middle-aged woman wearing some sort of ridiculous headdress along with five children who all looked to be about sixteen or seventeen at the oldest, two boys and three girls. The woman was wearing a look of intense concentration while the expressions on the teenagers' faces ranged from frightened to bored to clearly-stifling-laughter to something-like-disgust.
He moved closer and the candle's flame burned brighter and there were gasps, they gripped each other's hands more tightly, and the woman wearing the absurd purple turban announced, "Someone has arrived" and he supposed that someone was him.
He tried to leave but couldn't. He hummed and vibrated within the little room like a fly trapped in a jar but it did him no good.
He moved closer again to the group and the candle's flame flared stronger and he saw that not all these strangers were strangers at all really. One face was familiar and familiarity threatened to bring forth memory and he had to get out of here because to remember was to wake up and that was absolutely out of the question.
"That's a nice trick, how'd you do that one? Lighter fluid? Hidden air-pipe?" one of the girls asked, the owner of the look of something-like-disgust and of the face that looked familiar to him.
This girl had a happy mouth but sad eyes, a button nose but sharp chin, blond hair but with purple ends. She was all contrasts and conflict and as he studied her, he wondered where he knew her from while also doing his absolute utmost not to wonder any such thing.
"Who has joined us on this All Hallows' Eve?" the woman in the absurd headgear asked, ignoring the girl, her accent wobbling between Shoreditch and Transylvania.
I have, he said. But I think you're looking for a Philip? I don't have a name, I'm afraid, I'm just myself...when I'm not being other things that is. Anyway, I really need to get going so if you wouldn't mind, I'll just be on my way.
Nobody seemed to have heard him and he still couldn't leave despite his best efforts.
"Is someone there?"
Yes, still here I'm afraid but I really shouldn't be...I mean, I can't be.
"Told you guys, it's all bullsh-," the girl started to say but the lady wearing the incongruous purple turban cleared her throat dramatically.
"Sorry, it's just, well, it's all a load of bollocks, isn't it?" The girl said equably, her look of something-like-disgust giving way to something-like-condescension.
The others all seemed to be wavering between amusement and embarrassment at their friend's outburst.
"Young lady, you must be open to the other world. A closed door invites no guests," the woman replied, the accent veering harder to the Shoreditch side of things when pressed.
"Yeah Sophie, listen to Madam Kondazian, open your door," one of the other girls said teasingly, and the girl Sophie kicked her under the table while muttering "Shove it, Maisie". This Maisie had thick-framed glasses and braces and a nose-ring and an eyebrow-ring and multiple earrings and he wondered if her head felt as heavy as his did right now.
"There is someone here, children. Perhaps if we shut up, they might speak and we can see if it is He Who We Have Called," the woman said pointedly and the girls obligingly shut up. Madam Kondazian tilted her head to one side and squinted in the universal way of She Who Is Listening.
Sophie? Sophie? The name rang as many bells as the face and he needed to get out of here, escape the infernal ringing of those bells and really...
I mean, whatever you people are playing at, might I just be permitted to leave? I simply can't stay...I just can't, you see!
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