He stared straight beyond the glass door, his eyes unmoving, his concentration unwavering. He was conversing with himself, trying to keep up with what things might be new, or affected, by the revelation he had about himself. During the past 9 years, he had made himself believe that the nightmares weren't really that bad, considering the actions done by his veteran friend when he was having the nightmare. The veteran had thrashed violently around on the bed as if he was possessed by something, his hands even punching a hole through the wall. This, he thought, was someone who had seen hell in his dreams. But what did the veteran see? What would the veteran dream about? He knew the answer, of course. It was the war. But back in Nam, all who fought was human. They were mortals, they fear, they cry, they break, no matter which side they were on, they die. Because they were human. But in George's dream, what he was with weren't human. They weren't of this world, and they certainly weren't real. Or were they? This, he could've answered easily enough just by saying "yes", but he wasn't sure anymore. He hated it, he hated the fact that the dream had to come back to him. But why did it hide from his memory for so long? It was truly terrifying for him, so it shouldn't be so easily forgotten. But was it easily forgotten? Well, that might've been untrue. It was said somewhere that most dreams are stored in the short term memory bank or some shit. So maybe he found it hard to keep it at bay at first, but then again, short term memory banks empty themselves after some time, right? If that was so, why did it return to him just now? Besides, there wasn't even an acceptable trigger. The trigger was-------- the humming voice? Of course it was. But why the hell would it bring a forgotten nightmare back? It wasn't as if there was a connection between the sound and the dream, or was there one? Maybe, maybe not. But no matter how George looked at things, there was no connection. Despite that idea, he can't take it out of his mind that it was as if the hum itself has summoned his worst days at will, at the same time bring back all the sensations, the terror, the confusion and even the tears. Well, maybe it still was a good thing that the hum didn't bring with it George's wetting and shitting, or he would already be at home, washing his underwear and pants, or maybe even burning it.
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He could only think of one reason why the nightmare returned with the hum.
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Coincidence.
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It has to be. Just like how his own town with a lady name seemed to seduce some of its visitors, and at the same time push the others away. It was a coincidence. (Town with a lady name? Why does that sound familiar?)
George repeated the phrase to himself. "Town with a lady name." The phrase seemed to have a different depth to it. "Siera. My town." He thought that was it, of course, but hadn't he heard someone else mention the same thing?
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George was about to grasp an idea when a young voice behind said, "Mr. G, I never knew you read this kind of stuff."
George turned around and looked at Max. Max was sitting on a plastic chair, his legs raised, resting on top of the counter. The kid's face was grinning, and George's eyes found what the kid was holding. It was a magazine featuring a woman wearing fatigue tops opened up in the middle, exposing the woman's bare breast.
Max's grin widened when he saw the shock in George's eyes. "I found this here on this table when I entered."
"Fuck," George said as he remembered that earlier, he had tried to look for something to read, then Danny somehow caught his attention and he had just grabbed whatever magazine he got ahold of and tossed it to the table behind him. He didn't even know it was a porno mag.
"Language Mr. G."
George just smiled wanly at him, then bowed his as if to say, "apologies", then went back to whatever he was doing. If there was anything at all.
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Because of the fatigues, the woman was wearing in the mag, he remembered his old friend. The veteran. The soldier. But somehow, he can't remember his name.
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****
Maximalian Wilson stared at the back of the man he loves. A father, that was something he had longed for until a year ago. A mother, that he didn't need. It wasn't in his nature. But a father, he had wanted one. Once, when he was one of those on top, he had gone against his father, as had some others like him back in his home. Back home, he wanted his father to acknowledge him as a complete man, which he wasn't. Being acknowledged as a complete man meant to him the same as being real and not just some part of a play or part of a facade. But then, his father had said no. It wasn't even something to be talked about, and he was only to obey his father. He admitted his father made few bad decisions, and his father had only what was best for him, what was best for them. At first, he didn't have any problem with it, in fact, he once enjoyed the security and perfection of his life. But he had somehow created other thoughts within him, and with these thoughts, a friend had come to him. His friend had known about his thoughts. How, that he didn' t know. But it didn't matter to Max, because someone had agreed with him. He needed to prove himself, he needed to prove that he can do things without his father. He also wanted to make the decision, just as his father did. He also wanted the control a paternal figure demanded, but he needed his father's approval. He couldn't just go and do things his way, no, it wasn't in him to do it. He needed his father's approval. And he had gone to his father to once again ask for his permission. But once again, his father had said no. He did not answer, instead, he just left with tears in his eyes. Then once again, his friend came upon him and told him that he had to do something to convince his father. A demonstration of his strength, proof that he could do what his father does. Max had taken this to heart and heard his friend out. And with his friend's way, he thought he would get his way with his father.
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He had killed the lambs his father had loved with all his heart. He had brought the bloodied knife in one hand, and the head of one lamb in the other, and had told his father that he's not a coward, that he has the strength to commit an atrocity and fearlessly face any consequence. To this, his father was furious and had him leave and never come back. His heart thumped his chest and had tried to bring the knife down on his father, but his father was strong, way stronger than him, and had disarmed him immediately. With this, his father had thrown him out of their home, never to come back, filling his heart with anger. But time has passed and the anger dissipated, and to repent was what he wanted the most. But he knew that no matter how much he repented, he would never be forgiven again.
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This story was what he had fabricated throughout the years. But despite the fabrication, the story wasn't void of truth, in fact, it was still a bit similar to what really happened. An analogy, a means to escape his past and blend in with the people in Siera.
He loves this town, but he's not without personal reasons. He has reasons why he came to this town. And even if the land itself didn't want him here, he needed to be here.
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He had to commit a killing.
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And now he stared once again at the man in front of him, a warm smile touching his face. He watched him warily, not sure whether this man had just started to be a problem, or had just started to become a worthy tool.
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****
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George straightened up, his state of confusion suddenly being replaced by a state of horror. Goosebumps invaded his skin, and it felt like his hairs stood on its end. A cold sensation enveloped the back of his neck as a tingling feeling embrace his head. His knees buckle under him, and his eyes seemed to be on the verge of bursting.
George spun quickly and pushed Max's head down as he shouted, "Watch out!"
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And there he was, holding the kid's head low, his eyes scanning the whole store, the shelves, the drawers, and everything, looking for something, even though he didn't know what he was looking for.
Then George let go of Max's head and watched his facelift up in a puzzled look. Max didn't say anything, but George just said, "Never mind."
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Max was about to say something when the door opened and the store's second customer of the day entered.
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