by Ruby Castañeda
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is a multi-media piece with several things highlighted in black. To read what has been highlighted, simply copy what has been highlighted and paste it in another document, or the Google Search Box.
Troy’s face changes from a catatonic expression to one of pure horror.
HAROLD
Oh God… oh God please save us. (His voice is choked, like every syllable is a struggle to
manifest.)
Confused, everyone turns to Troy. He’s standing, his legs straight like he was bolted into the
ground. His body is quivering, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. The air suddenly feels cold and
stiff. Reluctantly, Amalie stands up, slowly approaches, arm outstretched to touch his shoulder.
AMALIE
Troy… is everything ok? (She stares out the window, her expression suddenly falling.)
The trees are bending, as if a constant, heavy gust of wind is tugging them. Some trees were at
a near ninety degree angle. The grass is undulating like a bluish-green wave. Despite this, no
leaves are falling, and the cabin isn’t making its usual creaking. Before Amalie knew it, everyone
else had gathered around the windows.
ALEK
Wgat’s wrong witg tge wind? Tgis didn’t gappen before. Is tgis some weird weatger event? (He
turns his head to Howard, eyes pleading.)
HOWARD
I… I don’t know
TROY
I’ll go check it out. (Troy gets up, his hand nearly twisting the knob before Howard suddenly
jerks up.)
HOWARD
Hey! Get back here! It’s not safe.
Troy ignores his plea, opening the door and stepping outside. The forest smelled off, like warm
metal. He braces himself, expecting a gust strong enough to take his breath away.
But he feels nothing.
His clothing and hair remain undisturbed, as if he was still inside the cabin. Reluctantly, he
continues to step off the porch, nearly tripping on the loose steps.
Nothing.
He looks on, wide eyed, watching the trees bend and strain, thrown around like toys at the
hands of something impossible. He looks up. The clouded sky is motionless. Yet, it’s getting
darker.
AMALIE
Troy! Come back inside! It’s not… (She steps outside, before stopping dead in her tracks.) s…
safe. (She turns her head to the door, where everyone is staring at her.) Uh… I think you all
need to come outside.
Reluctantly, everyone begins to step out the door. Crystal comes first, followed by Naya and
Alek, holding hands, and finally Howard. Crystal peers up at the sky, then at the trees. For a
while no one speaks, no one moves. Suddenly Naya begins to wildly tug at Aleks hand, her
eyes filled with instinctual frenzy.
NAYA
Guys we need to go NOW!
Finally, the realization kicks in, and like a herd the group begins to scramble down the hill
towards the cars. As they do, the force twisting the trees begins to strengthen. A few weaker
oaks and pines are torn from their roots, their bodies dragged into the woods behind the cabin.
The sky grows darker, as if the sun itself is being eaten. The air is filled with a cacophony, not of
animals or plants, but of static.
Midway down the hill, Troy stops. He thought he had heard something, like someone
calling his name. He recognized the voice, but he couldn’t pair it with a face. He watches as his
friends’ figures grow smaller and fainter in the encroaching dark, until they all but disappear.
Despite this, he feels a pair of eyes on him, their stare filled with an artificial warmth. Slowly, he
turns around. Someone is standing in the woods. They are wearing a distorted jersey, the only
thing that’s recognisable is the red color and its gold lining. Even the numbers, once front and
center, were nothing but a mass of yellow and white. The thing seemed to shine like embers,
being the only thing still visible in the dusklight. Troy couldn’t see ὅς legs, ὅς arms, or even ὅς face.
All of which was obscured by the writhing woods. Troy binks, and suddenly ἕ turns back
into the woods, vanishing behind the cabin.
TROY
Hey! Wait! Come back!
Troy stops running, turning back around and running into the woods. He only takes a courtesy
look back at the cars below, before rushing into the twisting forest.
The remaining group tumbles down the hill, Amalie reaching her van door first. She digs
her heels into the dirt, stopping just inches from her door. She scrounges her bag, frantically
tossing old candy wrappers and recipes until she pulls out her keys. Crystal barrels down
behind her, not stopping nearly as elegantly. She slams into the black van, although the thick,
old thing didn’t seem perturbed.
CRYSTAL
- I can barely see anything anymore. Why is it getting so dark?
Howard races, just barely avoiding tripping over the cracks in the asphalt. He leans against his
small car, breathing heavily.
HOWARD
(Every few seconds, his sentence is interrupted by his own breathing.) I… have no… idea. I
think…we might… be in the… eye of a… storm. (He throws his hands on his knees, taking a
moment to catch his breath.) Sorry… I haven’t run that fast in… a while. (He apologizes, mainly
to himself.)
Naya and Alek appear last, still holding hands, although Alek was less running with her, and
more carrying her. Alek looks to the motionless sky, the blue creeping through the clouds
growing more and more gray. He stares at the road in reluctance. Something in him tells him
he’s done this before. Naya already has her keys out, and is frantically unlocking her car. A song
plays in the distance, empty and echoed like a tornado siren. However, the song was of a
melody, one familiar, yet unrecognizable. Everyone’s ears start to ring, but most try to ignore it.
Howard looks to the sky to find the sound, but it seems to be coming from every direction at
once. Howard stares back at the cabin. His blood goes cold.
HOWARD
Wait! Did any of you see Troy come down?
The frantic panic abruptly halts, as everyone stares at Alek and Naya. Alek is searching the hill
they had just come from, while Naya looks at everyone else.
NAYA
I thought he came down with you guys! (She starts to hyperventilate.) He was behind Amalie.
HOWARD
I thought I saw him stop midway down the hill, but I was descending too fast to check.
Something pale crosses Crystal’s vision, faint and obscured. She turns her eyes back to the
cabin. Just to the right of the cabin, in the woods, she sees a small, choppy form of something
pale tan and blue. It’s Troy, vanishing into the underbrush. His body is just discernible from the
weeds. His black suit and hair nearly renders him invisible.
CRYSTAL
Holy 2417 I see him! (She struggles to point to his fading figure.) He’s going into the woods,
behind the cabin.
AMALIE
What! Why? (She exclaims.)
HOWARD
He’s insane! (He motions to the trees. Over time, the movement of the trees has become more
obvious. They are gathering around a single location, one behind the cabin.) He’s going to get
himself killed!
ALEK
I’ll get gim. I may be a wrestler by nature but I gave a running geart.
Before Alek can start, Crystal runs back up the hill.
ALEK
Gey! Crystal stop! You’ll gurt yourself! (He tries to run after her, but stops himself after realizing
she’d probably outrun him DATA_MEMORY_ERROR.)
CRYSTAL
Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine. You guys get ready to leave. If things get risky, leave without us!
(She nods to Amalie, who holds the keys in her hands. Amalie is pale, watching as Crystal runs
back up the hill.)
Troy walks further within the woods, the overwhelming mix of static and a far off melody
draws his brain into an unwilling trance. Every step he made seemed predetermined, studied,
and done, again, again, again. He feels like a moth drawn to the warm glow of electricity, guided
by strings to his destruction. Yet it is a compulsion, as if he was born for this very moment.
Every time he gets close enough to just make out the familiar figure’s jacket, ἕ would vanish,
traveling farther and farther into the woods. The trees here are a strange combination of
bending, and completely still. Those that didn’t move twitched erratically. As he walks, the forest
grows more and more even, more and more… twitchy. Some of the trees are sunken and
melting into the floor, and all of the trees are evenly spaced. A swarm of birds flies across the
sky, panic stricken. They are covered in a pitch black liquid, making them stark against the
blackening sky. Troy swore the bird’s wings were dripping letters and numbers.
The figure suddenly stops, standing still and facing away from Troy. ἕ was facing a
clearing, although ἕ was bulky enough that Troy couldn’t see much further. He could see most
of ἕ now. The figure stands strong and tall, being just a little taller than Alek. ἕ was tanned, with
dirty blond hair. Troy noticed a scar on the thing’s left arm. He couldn’t help but remember
standing at that party, his old roommate’s left arm in a sling. ἕ had just won the state, at the cost
of his arm. Despite this, ἕ was in high spirits, chatting about how the Polot Parrots will surely
win another game, that ἕ will get better soon. Troy shook his head, struggling to snap out of his
daze. He waits, the figure does not move. Despite his better judgment, he wants to see ἕο face.
He wants to remember ἕο name. Hesitantly, Troy holds out his hand, and quietly approaches
the figure. Every step, a strange cacophony of voices grows louder. The clinking of glass, the
laughing of many voices, the clicking of dress shoes on tiles, the sound of… bugles? The smell
grew stronger as well, the smell of a warm buffet and fancy alcohol, mixed with the undertones
of hot metal. The smell increases to a sickening degree, to the point that Troy’s nose starts to
burn, and his stomach starts to churn. Yet he is too entranced to look away.
I can’t remember I can’t remember I can’t remember
Cut!
Troy abruptly turns around. Nothing is there, yet he feels a dozen eyes on him. The trees extend
out forever, vanishing into black. He remembered that voice, but from where he couldn’t recall.
Troy takes a deep, shuddering breath, placing his hand on his frazzled heart. He slowly turns his
gaze back towards the figure.
As he had half expected, ἕ had vanished by the time he turned his head. This time, however,
Troy could no longer see the red jacket. The smells of that forgotten, nostalgic time still clung to
the air, the hot metal growing more and more powerful. Troy decides to examine the opening the
figure had blocked before.
Troy steps into the clearing, the deep seated wrongness in his stomach growing to a
feverish instinct to flee. He had never visited this place, but Howard had described the open
field where he had found that strange laptop. Troy faces the center, only to freeze. A terrified
animal, caught in the flash of a camera, unable to comprehend the glassy, expanding eye.
IIIIIIIIIIIII It stood floating, right above the rotting stump, waiting. The thing was no bigger
than a person’s torso, and hovered just out of reach. A perfect square, with a surface so dark
and indescribable that all light is absorbed. It almost seemed like a tile of the world fell away,
revealing the void beyond. From inside, Troy could hear distorted music and static.
Occasionally, he could pick out voices; singing, laughter, fighting, screaming, sobbing. The
cacophony rises and falls like a collective wail, drawing him closer. He wondered whether he
had found the pit to hell itself. The square drew in everything around it, melting it down like
candy. The stump below it rapidly deteriorated, the wisps of what once was sturdy wood flowed
into the things open maw, vanishing into the abyss. Even his hands were starting to lose their
shape, the joints melding into one another, the fingers being the wrong shape, the wrong
number. He closes his eyes, praying his final moments will be painless.
CRYSTAL
TROY! TROY!
Crystal suddenly grasps Troy’s shoulder, nearly dislocating it in a desperate bid to move him.
CRYSTAL
COME ON 425732! RUN! (Her voice cracks at the end, and a tiny amount of blood drips from
her mouth.)
This sudden movement snaps Troy out of his trance. He shakes his head and bolts, struggling
to avoid looking at the cube. In an instant, the s q a r e x p a n d e
s, suddenly growing to consume the field around it. The music grew louder, to the point Crystal
couldn’t hear her own voice. She runs, clutching Troy’s hand tightly as they race out of the
woods. Looking up she could see the squares multiply, as if they were vines, quickly
encroaching upon them, and threatening to bury them. Breaking the forest, the pair bolt past the
cabin, the squares already starting to eat away at the once wooden walls.
CRYSTAL
WHAT THE 4237 IS THAT? (She yells as if she is talking to Troy, although Troy seems more
focused on the carnage behind them than to her.)
TROY
[LAUGH TRACK][LAUGH TRACK][LAUGH TRACK][LAUGH TRACK][LAUGH TRACK] (Troy
is laughing frantically, his eyes wide in fear and filled with tears. His voice is a cacophony of
sound, not of his own voice but of many. Of men and women, in a tone that is strangely grainy
and… almost pre-recorded. Voices familiar to Crystal, but not in a way she could remember. Troy stumbles, causing Crystal to almost tumble to the ground. At this point they are barreling
down the hill.)
CRYSTAL
COME ON HAROLD, I’M NOT LETTING EITHER OF US DIE. (She pulls him back up, just
before the ground melted into one of the squares.)
Eventually, Crystal can see the spot where they had all parked their cars. To her combined relief
and horror, she could see the small figures of Howard, Naya, Alek, and Amalie standing near
their cars. Crystal starts speeding up, nearly dragging the terrified Troy behind her. She reaches
the flat parking lot, rushes to Amalie’s van. Everyone seems frozen in shock and fear, watching
as the void consumes the woods around them. Crystal throws open the door, nearly throwing
Troy inside.
CRYSTAL
THERE’S NO TIME! EVERYONE GET IN NOW! (She begins tugging people to get inside the
open van, which causes a pandemonium as people snap out of their trance.)
Naya jumps in without hesitation, Alek following close behind. He snatches the back of
Howard’s shirt, causing him to fly inside and almost lose his glasses. Amalie leaps into the
shotgun seat, as Crystal takes the wheel and starts the car, slamming the gas. She takes a
sharp left turn onto the main road, throwing everyone to the side. The void begins to eat away at
the road, the van’s back wheels narrowly scraping the edge of the darkness before Crystal
suddenly speeds off. The speedometer is edging to ninety miles an hour and climbing, but even
still the van is just barely ahead of the encroaching dark. The sky is consumed, the clouds, the
atmosphere, all eaten like ink staining a paper dome. The only light now is the flickering of the
old van’s headlights.