A younger man who, in face, looked just like Brody, only slightly askew, had his lower body de-skinned in see-through status. This was the mask hiding behind Brody’s body. He had his death mapped out. The whole time, he had control. Every thought he had was duplicated through his actions. He didn’t choose to hang himself because he didn’t want any brain cells to die before he did. He didn’t blow his head off with a shotgun for the same reason. He didn’t ingest anything fatal if swallowed because, again, it would kill brain cells. No, he wanted his brain to go on just as strong as it was pre-death. The way he chose was ironic to his cause. The way he chose was obscene, obscure, and unthinkable all in one. His way was starvation. His mind outlived his body. He had lost two hundred and three pounds. He would have won the Biggest Loser contest if they would have been having one, but nonetheless, he kept exercising the entire time to ward people away from his plan. His excuse was that he was fasting for the mentally sick. He was trying to reach his spiritual realm so others could benefit mind-wise from his sacrifice. He lasted three months, living off of nothing but oxygen. Even dead, he didn’t look anorexic. He went before his body deflated. There were times, long ago, that he was constantly in Harmonia’s room, deep in relaxation. Now the truth reveals itself: biorhythm feedback does increase your longevity.
The innards had wrapped around each other like boa constrictors at a mass feeding ceremony in some deep, dark jungle. They shut each other off, making his body starve even more. That is why he didn’t look starved. They never let anything out, and stayed inflated. His stomach had shrunk five times smaller, but that was because he overate just before fasting. His heart is what finally gave out. It was three times smaller than normal. Too much intense working out made it blow an artery, and he had an aneurysm in his chest cavity. That was all it took, but he was already wired to this sepulcher apparatus, being kept alive mentally before his body deflated and shut down physically.
Purpose now expelled from the man; Brody was Chester’s biological son. He crouched down on the walkway and cried. Lars went over and comforted him to a stand, finally resting Brody’s head between his enlarged man-bosoms. The emotional patch turned a light blue on Brody’s chest, suggesting the emotions that were being visually displayed through tears. He felt sad, but only for a second, because he had more to do.
“How are we supposed to know how to control this robot-man we are in? There aren’t any instructions, and no manual for us to read. Not that I like to read that well anyway, but none of us know how to operate this thing. I have a hard enough time driving a car,” Treach said as he looked to Brody for the answer, and then spoke again. “You are the chosen one. Think us through this one.”
“I will. Just give me some time. I am going to go back upstairs; I have been down here for a while. Everyone is probably wondering where I am. Oh, by the way, I gave every person upstairs the same dosage of my new concoction I call Lethe. It will probably be a week or two of my giving it to them before it takes effect, but once it does, you will be able to come upstairs and hang out. Everyone will be like zombies; they won’t even remember their own names.”
“Man, that will be cool. Are you going to change the eating schedule around to fit midnight snacks into the equation?” Lars asked after Treach translated.
“You know I will. Just for you, but let me do my thing. I will let you know when the time is right. In the meantime, I want you to keep playing with the dream machine and see if you can figure anymore of your dreams out. I will give you some more USB sticks to save your data. I will have to wait a day or two, though, so no one gets suspicious.”
Brody left as Treach continued talking to Lars. “Wow, that kid is the chosen magistrate of Trendago. Even his dad, who designed this robot from head to toe, says Brody is his surviving prodigy. The coolest part is, we know him, and he likes us! We better do what we can for him. I can’t wait until that drug he gave everyone upstairs kicks in. I have something in mind for Bonnie.”
Treach was unhooking the machine from Chester to put it away as Lars pointed at it, then back at himself like he was mute or playing charades. Treach said, “What, you want to put this on you now? Why didn’t you want to do it while Brody was down here?”
Lars shrugged then held up the first two fingers from his left hand. Treach commented. “Oh, I see, you want to play a game. Okay, two words?”
Lars nodded affirmatively. Then, he put the palms of his hands together and the back of the closest was held against his cheek as he tilted his head toward his shoulder, pinching them.
“You are starting to go to sleep?”
He shook his head back and forth.
Negative.
“You are getting sleepy?”
Negative.
He stuck the forefinger from the other hand into his ear.
“You want me to plug you in?”
Yes.
“You want me to plug it in after you go to sleep. Oh, I get it. This thing makes you nervous.”
Lars took his hands and jiggled his fingers upside down under his armpits.
“You are going to dream about a gorilla?”
Negative.
“You want to become a gorilla?”
Now Lars looked at Treach like he was a rah-tard.
“You want me to tickle you?” Treach moved in to oblige as Lars held one finger on his hand up while shaking his head, yes. “What, tickle?”
Lars rolled his head like Treach had finally gotten it right.
“Tickle? You want to tickle me? Oh, it tickles you to have stuff put in your ears. I get it. That is why you want me to wait until you are asleep. Okay, will do.”
It didn’t take long for Lars to pass out. He was quick to get into snoring-mode as Treach geared him up. He had to adjust the plug and double it up so that it would stay in the gargantuan hole of Lars’s mid-ear.
The test tube had broken from the blundering mad scientist who dropped it and the embryo inside was cut in half by shards of glass. The diploid process was in effect as the doctor scooped up the little blobs of jelly and placed them on a Petri dish then looked at them under the microscope to ensure everything was all right. The microscope revealed another embryo had stemmed from the main one. It quickly mutated into the same size as the first and seemed just as healthy this soon into the incubation. Back into the sterile environment they were placed; the doctor handled them through the glass with gloves like how the demi-dogs were fed. He was not going to let this discovery ruin his chance at raising his status because he was the overseer to this clone-like project.
After birth, the twins were separated and put in foster homes. Even apart, they could feel when the other was happy or sad, angry or overjoyed. Coming from the same zygote, they had a sense of what the other was feeling. Every time Lacey was physically beaten, it affected Lars, especially when she died. He saw her falling out of the helicopter and was stricken by a cold fear he had no control over. He was with her all the way down, even when she hit the ground. She didn’t die instantly, though. At first, her heart stopped from fear, but then re-started after she landed on the ground and bounced back up, then landed again. Each time it stopped, Lars could feel his heart stop. He was so drained by the incident; he wasn’t sure if he would be able to continue living, especially when all this was taking place while he was forced in the dark. He didn’t know what was hitting him. It felt like surges of electricity that were coming from nowhere. They kept pulsating time and again. She was going through a long, enduring death. It lasted a good hour before he knew she was no longer living. All the while, he cried, smiled, and laughed because he wanted her to be at peace with his emotional offering to her. She did go out in peace. She, being in the dark as well, never saw any of it coming, but knew exactly what was going on, having been conscious the entire time.
Darkness came back and there were flickers of light that probed through t
he stillness. They got stronger the closer Lars was sucked into them. He could feel the repulsive strength of the light. It had to have been a strong force to be able to move him. He tried to resist as it overcame him with tranquility. The pipe he had been holding onto for dear life had bent, and steam was forced out of it into his face. The heat scalded him in the face as he felt his skin boiling from the inside out. It was a deep burn, past third degree, so devouring it made him cry, and he wasn’t much of a crier.
As he let go, the warmth from the white light soothed him. It sculpted his face back into what it was before and made the pain diminish. He didn’t understand what was going on. There was light everywhere around him, but it wasn’t the kind of light that can be made by man. It wasn’t even the kind of light that could come from a lunar or solar source. It was more comforting than any of those had ever been, even on the best of days weather-wise. There was an angelic being that emerged from the center of the light. Its body’s silhouette blotted out part of the light. As soon as it got close enough, he could see that it was a she-angel with long, wispy, white hair. Was it Lacey? She came and pecked him on the cheek without even getting close to him. He stood back, mesmerized by the calmness of this place. He didn’t have any idea where he was. At first glance, it appeared to be somewhere the Good Book promised, but it was not populated with any other angels. There were no pearly gates, roads made of gold, no endless fountain to drink from or temples that reached to the top of the heavens. It was just her and him, out in the middle of the nothingness that surrounded them with nothing but whitish-gray light all around.
The light shut him out and he was sent back. The angel waved good-bye to signify her peace. She smiled without moving her face, and he was in awe. Her beautiful soprano voice sang hymns of heavenly grandeur, but he never made out any words. It more resembled humming, but in an unearthly way. This was his new view of transcending from his body, the closest he would get to heaven before he died.
When he came back, he could feel that he was trapped beneath the straps of a leaning table. He was situated under some eyeball-looking lens that stemmed down from a telescoping aardvark’s snout-looking metal apparatus. He felt sick to his stomach. The machine was warming up for round two. He now understood what chemotherapy patients went through when they were getting their bodies filled with radiation. He couldn’t move, but felt strong enough to endure the next jolt of whatever the eye was going to spit at him. He turned his head over to see a yellow suit standing on the other side, through the looking glass, of this room. He could only see the mid-torso, no face to pinpoint who was putting him through this hell. He tried to sit up, but the straps and his drained strength wouldn’t let him. He felt himself fade in and out; the light kept pushing him back. On the final time, he broke the straps and sat up. There was no one around. He wearily, with a cloudy head, tried to locate equilibrium. The room started to spin, literally. It was moving, but not by itself. The entire place, he and the room, was moving. This made him all the more nauseous. So nauseous he…
Lars woke up, but couldn’t move. He had tried so hard to control his dream from the inside; it wore him out physically. He laid there on the cot as Treach looked down from the screen in awe. “What was that all about?” He had tears running down his cheek as he continued. “That was Lacey, wasn’t it? You are gifted, Lars. Thank you for helping me let go of her. Now that I know she is at peace, I am kind of jealous. She got there before we did. Never having done anything wrong, she is back in heaven. If that weren’t the case, the light wouldn’t have been white.”
“Yeah, she made it. I had a feeling she would. That is why I am so peaceful. I didn’t used to be this way.” His lisp disappeared! He was talking just as normal as anyone else. A miracle had occurred. It was because of the deep recesses in his mind that he was able to reach. Through biofeedback, he was able to sort through all those things that made him feel guilt. These were the same things that clogged his mind with dark spots. They had taken over his bad childhood memories and left him with a speech impediment. Once letting go, and accepting that he isn’t perfect, Lars came back blessed. He reassured Treach. “It is true. That stuff does work. Brody is a genius.”
“Can you translate everything that went on in your dream?” Treach asked him to make sure he was fit to help the others as sort of a junior magistrate.
“Yes, I can walk you through the whole thing. I can tell you why Brody is in Chester’s dreams, and why people I haven’t even met yet are in this treatment facility. Don’t ask me how, I just know.”
“Then, can you tell me what I did to get sent to Trendago before the seven-year erase?” Treach wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the truth, but he listened intently anyway.
“The reason you were sent here has nothing to do with what you’ve done while you have been here. Though, that is going to be the death of you. Your review has already taken place. On Earth, you were somewhat of a misogynist, unfair to the opposite sex because of how your Earth mother used to treat you as a kid. She would run off with a different man to elope with about every other year. She would blame you every time it didn’t work out for her. By saying what you did to her, that you wanted to wrap your hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her, it got you sent to Trendago. Threats to humans are just as bad as the actions, whether followed through or not. You had been judged and, ultimately, because it was your mom, the one Christ worked through the most to give you life, you were judged even harsher.”
“But I love my mom, and I would never do anything to harm her in any way.”
“Your Trendago-mom is not your Earth-mom. It is the replacement of your worst enemy’s, Jody Church’s, mom, and you are in the image of Jody.”
“Some say I look just like Brody, except I am bronze colored.”
“Don’t you get it? We were all cast here to look like the person we hated the most on Earth. It was to show how to love our enemy just like we would our neighbor, and how it would feel to walk a day in their shoes, literally. We are only here, living by the mercy of Christ. He died for our sins, while nailed to the cross, and that will never change. He is our one and only Savior, the only being who can free us from this world in which we currently reside because he was freed as well three days after being sent to his grave.”
“I don’t believe that. If that were true, I would have already been judged and sentenced to Nostradama for eternity. I have taken several people’s lives. I shouldn’t have even gotten away with one. If this is the second chance that we are going through here in Trendago, why am I getting a third, fourth, and fortieth chance?”
“Because you didn’t die when you were committing those sins. I quote: The wage of sin is death. The wage of a sinful death is eternal damnation. Had you died in the gang fight, you would have certainly been sent to Nostradama. You better get down on your knees and start asking for forgiveness, brother. There isn’t much time left.” Lars spoke as he looked at Treach. Lars sounded like he had just been gifted with all the answers.
“I still think there is a snag in your perception. I do believe that you just got a little smarter, but I don’t think you were gifted with all that. I like you though, Lars. You are always in control of who you are. No one gets to you. Especially after you told me all about how you were treated while you were growing up. That would be enough to push anyone over the edge.”
“I am a child of God, Treach.”
“Then why are you here?”
Lars gave Treach a look that said, why are you doubting? Lars never answered.
Chapter 9
A Friend in Need
The room was quiet, except for the waterfall in the back. Drake was standing too close to the edge, and this time, he intentionally leaped over. His body fit perfectly down a chute at the bottom of the cataract as it sucked him along at accelerating speeds. He cried out, “I’m coming to find you, Farrah! Your love is my eternity!”
Before, it had struck Isaic as odd that there was water coming in from the top of a slit in the middle near the ceiling but that the room wasn’t filling up with water. A snake slithered by and then disappeared. Where did it go? Where is the water going? Where did the bodies go? Once witnessing Drake disappear, it became all the more apparent. The waterfall was flowing to the depths of another part of this cave system; how far it went down, only Drake would know, that is if he didn’t plunge to his death off some tall overhang first.
Isaic stood up, all six feet, seven inches, and three hundred eighty pounds of his fifteen-year-old body collected its blood flow as he sauntered over to the waterfall’s edge. The water spewed over a shelf of camouflaged rock and down a lit hollow. The crack couldn’t have been more than two body-lengths wide. Bodies as big as Isaic and Zon—well, the majority of the football players for that matter, would fit almost just right. There was just enough room for everyone to squeeze through, if necessary. It was proof enough that Drake was of opportune size, even though he wasn’t nearly the biggest football player.
It just so happened, the three Pasties that stuffed themselves into the hollow were re-united with their souls. The souls had wedged themselves in through the back door where the baby-Pasties were born. The eyes that were lying on the ground started to roll back and forth like being controlled by a strong magnetic force. They jostled for a couple seconds by themselves until being sucked back in from where they had departed. The Pasties, wedged in the wormhole, came to life and started moving around, trying to free themselves. So, there was a time frame on the jewels. Not good. The Pasties were catching on that they could fit more than one soul inside their bodies. They were purposely knocking each other’s eyes out in the other room, as the single-file line of souls from the top of the ceiling was getting thinner. The only problem that stemmed from two souls in one capsule is that they were angry souls. They knew for whom they were fighting, and it didn’t please them a bit to know they no longer had a chance of going to heaven. Satan was now their master.
Good and Evil : Freeland - Part Two (9781628547375) Page 13