Not everything is what it seems, they say.
Well, they sure as hell weren't wrong about that.
Like a drunkard lost in the dark depths of Las Vegas, I stumbled down the road at an irregular pace down the rolling path, furthering myself away from any form of life. This was all completely wrong. It was as if my mind were a simple geometry block game for children, such an easy little game, yet the pieces just wouldn't fit correctly. But this was no child's play, it was a game far more grotesque than any other. It was toying with me.
So consumed by profound thought, I hadn't realised my surroundings. I had approached the comfort of a warm white streetlight. Finally, a hue other than indigo; it's colour had bled deep, and inked into my conscience. The only source of light emitted little, lowly brightness. It wasn't enough to further see the shadows within the alleyways and dark crevacesses within, and what lurked beyond them. With every exhalation, breath gradually turned to mist, escaping my lips at a staccato pace and into the air. I gripped onto the pole of the streetlight harder, a sense of uneasiness suffocating my throat. Widened eyes robotically darted in every direction. Yes, I was aware of the safety of this world but...
There was something here...
Watching...
Waiting...
...
For me.
Then it struck.
A blur of black, prominent enough in the darkness, whipped toward me and locked my head under its arms; completely inescapable and helpless. I thrusted and struggled against it's Herculean grasp, arms batting at the source's force under my neck. All but muffled hollering could be heard, as a sturdy glove clapped over my mouth, almost crushing my jaw.
"Shut it!" the voice gruffly barked.
Pathetically, I complied, and stopped.
"Christ. Lucky this time." It mumbled into it's scarf.
With a sudden jolt, the figure threw me over its shoulder, earning a sharp cry of alarm from me. It strode back into the darkness, as I watched the light's dim glower distance itself further away from my view, and the pungent with of rosy incense lulling my conscience into darkness.
The same musty, rose scent stimulated my senses once again, as my eyes alarmingly opened, instinctively widening at the wash of black over my vision.
It was the smell of cotton that gave me the final idea that something was placed on my head. In a seated position, I felt uncomfortably rigid, my wrists and ankles feeling most pressured, as they were bounded with each other; hands behind back and ankles glued to the seat's front legs. With every panicked breath would the anvil in my chest grow heavier and heavier.
"H-Help!" I cry. There wasn't much I could possibly do, after all-
"H-Help!" A feminine voice mocked. It whimpered pitifully, and earned a snicker from my annoyed groaning and a sharp, irked tut.
"Hey lady! Tell me where the hell I am!" I demand, furiously rattling in my seat.
The voice giggles blithely, clearly not in the mood to answer.
"Why actually, it's sir..." another deep, completely polar voice chuckles.
Complete fatigue and confusion had unnaturally soaked into my brain like bleach, so naturally, I was feeling extremely disoriented.
The black cloth whirls off my head, and exposed is a small, lackluster excuse for a common room. Interesting characters have now been introduced to me; a few raising their brows, some knitting together.
They were all dressed head to toe in inky black, a stark contrast from a brilliant blood red crest pressed firmly into the back of their leather jackets.
"Oh my god... This is a cult!" I shrieked drunkenly, my eyes alarmedly skittered around the room.
An awkwardly-broken waver of snickering hummed around the room at this proclamation. It wasn't until a man with slick black hair, tightened into a topknot, with small menacing eyes gleaming with mischief abruptly swivelled my seat around to face him.
"Hey. M'names Coin Slot. You gon' call me C." He pushed the lip of his bottle to my chest. He spoke with the heavy influence of alcohol washed over inside his conscious.
"I run this shit hole." He explains curtly.
"A-Am I a prisoner?" I asked. His foul breath poisoned my sense of smell.
"Nah. You're gonna be one of us."
Whatever could that mean? I wondered.
"What if I don't want to be one of you people?"
At this, about several guns cocked, and handheld weapons were pointed directly around the circumference of my head.
"You'll have to. No choice."
Instantaneously, my breathing fell and rose inconsistently.
"No more questions from you, uh... " C glanced around as if to say, 'Help me out here, guys.'
"Whass' yo name, kid?" A member of the audience calls out, a voice like the auditory embodiment of roughened granite, despite it being the accent of a woman's.
"I... " My words slow to a halt, realising a profoundly dire thought.
"...Well?" she barks after a prolonged silence. Another member of C's posse shushes her with a sharp glare.
I couldn't remember.
Luckily enough, C seemed to be used to this reaction.
"Kid, you're definitely one of us. Follow me."
The solemn silence that accompanied the strict march down the grim corridors, in polarity to the brightly glowering common room, felt intimidating. It felt inappropriate to even cough at the pungent smell of sewage that reeked within the oppressively small space.
Unnecessary guilt was flowing within me. Members guarded back and front, herding to protect the shaking, helpless lamb I was. My spine tingled as the touch of a warm hand, in contrast, shoved me into a staggering trip forward, as if I were the overfilling contents of laundry crammed into a cupboard. They sure didn't know the definition of hospitality, or even the courtesy to inform me of anything.
The prominent strike of a match echoed into the room, and within receiving a single spark, it's flame fell to the floor. With a sudden billow of smoke and light, the orange tongue dyed blood red, with a mystic sparkle.
C gestured me to sit as he folded himself into a lotus pose in front of the blaze. As if familiar protocol, the people ushered themselves to their positions sitting far at either side of the flames. I took my own place in front of the flames, facing C.
"Let's begin."707Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeRR0E9RHbw
