Essay Five: Rational Discourse in the Face of Fear
Essay Five: Rational Discourse in the Face of Fear
Treble had seen some rather awful things before. In fact, well within the last few hours. He’d seen so many terrible and ungodly things over the course of the last two or three years that there were moments where he was convinced someone was going to rouse him from his coma and he could go about turning all of this into some strange and heinous novel series. So he liked to think very much that he was prepared for anything life, unlife, or otherlife could throw at him, at least insomuch as to be able to turn tale and run when required.
Unfortunately, the truth of the universe is that it is so vast, unknowable, and absolutely dickish that the list of things it has to rattle your cage with is nigh-infinite and full of rather awful words like non-euclidean, extradimensional, and chartreuse (although, given that his own color palette was royal blue over lime green, Treble really didn’t have much leg to stand on). So when he opened the curtains to find a rather matronly woman standing on the other side of the glass, he’d rather set aside most of his survival instincts in favor of a good old fashioned “What he fuck, lady?”
The woman, in that she resembled very much a female of the human species, minus a few key details -namely the flat surfaces of bone where her eyes should be, the too-wide mouth with an impressive collection of teeth sorted in proper rows, the overlong fingers that ended in something akin to either a hypodermic needle or a lock pick, and the rather noticeable fact that her upper half seemed to merge seamlessly with that of an armored spider at the waist- tutted disapprovingly. She tucked a lock of brown hair behind an overly pointy ear. “Now is that any way to speak to a lady?”
Now, Treble had quite a substantial amount of experience in talking, both to civilians and monsters alike. If one gave him enough breathing room he could most likely convince the air around him that it was not, in fact, air, rather a large quantity of sangria, and should settle down in its place rather nicely so he could go about drinking it all. He’d gotten so used to running his mouth at mad beasties and monsters with far too many pointy ends (present company included) that his normal ‘fight or flight’ response had been replaced with something Dusty affectionately referred to as ‘chat or scat’.
Weighing his rather limited options, he opted for the former. “I’m sorry about that, but under normal circumstances I find it’s rather rude to stare in someone’s window as they’re trying to sleep,” he rationalized, gesturing to his two sleeping compatriots. He would have loved to scatter a few more expletives amidst his dialogue, but those fingers were looking less like fingers and more like People’s Exhibit A.
The woman tilted her head politely to get a better view of the two napping girls. “Ah, I see. Yes, I suppose I would be rather cross if someone were to show up unannounced at my bedroom window. Still, though, it begs the question: why are you lot even sleeping here in the first place?”
Treble had to stifle an eye-roll. He settled on a shrug instead. “Well, we’ve been walking around, somewhat hopelessly lost, for what feels like quite some time. That and we were sort of chased in here by… I’m not even sure what it was, but it was big, scary, and… dripping.”
The woman sighed, an exasperated gesture born from having to deal with the same situation time and time again. “Yes, he does have a bad habit of making a mess. I really wish he’d take after his father and learn to clean up after himself.”
Gears turned in Treble’s head as he quietly attempted to make sense of the implications of that statement. “Are you saying… that… he, rather… is your son?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “As it so happens, yes. My kids all seem to have inherited the worst of their parents, as it happens. Would’ve left them all at home if I thought they could go a day without getting eaten.”
Treble very much wanted to steer this conversation away from anything that could eat the thing that chased them around earlier. “If I might be so bold as to ask, where exactly are you going?”
The woman curled her legs under her, in what approximated to sitting down. Treble quickly followed the cue and pulled up a chair. “It seems my husband was sent on an errand by his father, and found himself without a way home. I’m simply trying to find him and bring him back. Which would be much easier without a half dozen little rugrats to corral on the way there, but what can you do? Can’t exactly leave them to their own devices, can I?”
This conversation was both so mundane and laced with so many awful, apocalyptic implications that the cognitive dissonance was giving Treble a migraine. “Half a dozen?” he squeaked. Pausing to clear his throat and adopt a less embarrassing tone of voice, he continued, “And where, exactly, did your husband run off to?”
She raised a curious eyebrow at him. If she’d had proper eyes they might have widened slightly. “Oh?yo Looking to help an old woman find her missing hubby? You’re sweet. But I’d highly suggest against it. He has a bit of an… appetite for your kind. Gets it from his father, I suppose.”
All this talk of ‘fathers’ was ringing some major alarm bells in DT’s head, but he couldn’t exactly pin down their source. “Well, that’s rather kind of you, Mrs...” he trailed off, leaving the question in the air.
She blinked a few times, a rather unnerving sight. “OH! Yes, look at us! Having a rife old conversation about my family, and we haven’t even introduced ourselves! I’m… oh, but I guess you couldn’t pronounce that with only one mouth, could you? Well… just call me Mrs. Last, I suppose.”
“Deep Treble, ma’am,” he offered politely. In fact, he had almost reached out a hand to shake hers, stopping when he remembered both the window glass and the rather unfortunate ends of her fingers. “So, would it be safe to assume that your other, um, children, are also here? Wherever here is?”
“It would, in fact. Although I daresay you’ve met the worst of them. That boy has no respect for decorum or a proper introduction. Not like you,” she said in a dangerously familiar tone. “It’s rare to find someone so small with such good manners. Normally you all seem to just run screaming or throw things at us.”
Something in Treble’s head clicked, and his next question came out in a waver. “Your husband wouldn’t happen to be maybe, a foot taller than I am? Kind of a lot of mouths? Maybe got himself dragged into a different dimension by some overzealous humans?”
“Oh you HAVE met him!” she crooned, clapping her hands happily.
“Yeah, he may have… um… visited my high school? I’ll admit our encounter wasn’t quite so… polite?” he offered in what he hoped was an apologetic tone.
She raised an eyebrow at him again. He didn’t think he would get used to the range of expressions her face seemed capable of if they sat here and talked for a hundred years. Then she sighed wearily. “Let me guess. He ate some people and you all threw things at him?”
“That… is a distinct possibility. He may also have bitten off a sizable chunk of my friend’s leg.”
She shook her head, tutting disapprovingly. “Well, I can’t really blame you, survival instincts being what they are. I don’t suppose he mentioned where he was going, after what I assume to be an unnecessary amount of bloodshed?”
Treble smiled weakly. “Well, in all fairness I don’t think anyone actually died. Most seemed to get… eaten alive? Then they kind of got spat back out. It’s a long story. But no, all he said was he had a message from his father and that he and his army were coming to kill us all something something apocalypse,” he found himself talking in weary tones. At some point he would need to seriously consider what kind of life choices would lead one to become passe’ about the myriad of promised Armageddons at their doorstep, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, convincing this… lady that his manners were such as to not deserve getting slaughtered.
His lack of enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed. “You seem to have a rather… dismissive attitude of the end of your world,” she noted.
“It gets kind of old after the fourth or fifth. I can honestly say I’m more afraid of the things that don’t tout their own apocalyptic schemes to a group of teenagers in the middle of a fight,” Treble explained. He adjusted his seat under him and crossed one leg over the other. “I mean, if you really have some infallible plan to destroy all life as we know it, why do you need to advertise? It’s not like there’s going to be anyone around after the fact to go, ‘You know, we really should have seen all of this coming. He did put up flyers, after all,’” he groaned.
She seemed to find some amusement in that, if her rattling laugh was any indication. There was an unhealthy undercurrent of screaming and dark whispers in it, which he pointedly ignored. “Yes, my husband has always been one to… toot his own horn. It’s no wonder people don’t take him seriously. Although given how many mouths he has it’s no wonder he talks so much. Well, as much as I’d love to continue this surprisingly pleasant conversation, I do have a lot of work to do, you know. Crossing dimensions all by yourself is quite a bit of work, you know. Not all of us have a misguided cult opening doors for us left and right. Unless you would be so kind as to...” she trailed off, her implications obvious.
“Not even if I knew how,” Treble admitted. “My friends would be somewhat cross if I started trafficking other-dimensional entities through our hometown.”
She shrugged her impressive shoulders. “Well, it was worth a shot. Now, if you don’t mind, I really must get back to finding my kids and putting together a way across. It’s really rather tiring, if only one of my… precocious kids would raise an appendage to help. I daresay you’re likely to run into most, if not all of them, before we’ve put enough of this place together to get anyone anywhere. I daresay I’m not even sure how you got here in the first place.”
“If I knew I wouldn’t still be here,” Treble groaned. She stood, and he stood with her.
Another light chuckle. Something screamed. “Well, it was a pleasure talking to you. Hopefully the next time we meet I’ll have a more… approachable form to greet you with. And you’ll have all your appendages in tact. I’ll put in a good word with my kids for you, but they aren’t exactly prone to listening. Goodbye, Treble. Do your best not to die before we meet again.”
“Um, thank you? Goodbye,” he waived politely. She left with a small wave, turning into the darkness behind the glass and fading out of sight.
He decided it would be good manners to wait half a minute before he started panicking.
----------------------------
Sugarcoat woke abruptly to being shaken and yelled at, simultaneously. “What?!” she barked, sitting up with a start. The first thing she was was Sunny Flare rubbing the sleep from her eyes and looking around the room in confusion. It took Sugar a moment to remember where they were, herself.
The second thing she saw was Treble pacing back and forth across the room ranting like a lunatic in rather uncharacteristic panic. “Oh my god oh my god there’s six of these things we’re so god-awfully fucked what even?!”
Sunny and Sugar exchanged alarmed glances before the former coughed loudly. For a second it seemed Treble hadn’t heard her, but he paused for a second, mid-sentence, and smacked the sides of his face with his palms. “Ok. Ok. Yes?” he asked, his eyes still a little wild, as he turned his attention to the two girls on the bed. Normally a sentence he would be boasting to a room full of guys, not panicking over in a pocket dimension of unfound nightmares. One can’t be choosy, however, given the circumstances.
Sunny cleared the grog from her throat as she looked for an appropriate sentence. “Ok, could you kindly back up and explain what it is you seem to be freaking out about?”
Treble spared a glance at the window, half-hoping, half-afraid that ‘Mother’ was going to show up again and offer her own explanations. All he saw, however, was his reflection in the glass against the inky blackness beyond, and he seemed to be a bit unwound. Which was not his modus operandi. He ran his hands through his hair, took a few deep breaths, and straightened his collar.
The girls were slightly jealous how quickly he could go from panicked lunatic to roughly attractive teen. “Right, yes. Long story short? That… thing that chased us in here has a… mother. And siblings. All of which are apparently skittering around this hellhole like it’s their own personal playground.”
Sugarcoat blinked a few times, trying to sort out those words in that order in her head and not run screaming. She was doing a rather amicable job. Sunny seemed to have settled on self-preserving disbelief. “A mom? You saw it’s mother?!”
“Had a rather nice conversation with, actually. I guess having half a litter of otherworldy monstrosities and a war-mongering interdimensional tyrant for a father-in-law teaches one no end of patience,” he mused.
“Thee are so many things wrong with that sentence that I don’t know what to start screaming at first<” Sugar said plainly.
Treble gave her a deadpanned stare. “Join the club. Look, She said she was going to talk to her kids about not killing us, but somehow I don’t think these… whatever-they-ares respond well to a time-out. Now, as it turns out, they’re trying to track down their wayward dad, someone I’m actually rather familiar with,” he spat, “And god knows what they plan to do after that. Under normal circumstances, our best bet would be to track him down ourselves and hand him over on a silver platter, before they need to tunnel their way into our dimension and turn it into a feeding ground. But that only works if we can, you know, find the guy.”
“Which isn’t going to happen when we’re stuck in a Cube movie,” Sugar grumbled.
“I’m both impressed by the reference and put-out that I didn’t think of it first,” Treble mused. “But that aside, I have the distinctly dreadful feeling that we can’t afford to just hide out here and wait for them to do… whatever they want. I think our best bet is to find a way out, and go from there.”
Sunny rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, let’s just go right for the exit, please. Not like we didn’t spend half a day looking for the damn thing!”
“Well,” Treble mused, somewhat sheepishly. “Apparently there’s some way in and out of here, that these… creatures don’t know about. ‘Mother’ asked me how we all got here in the first place, which of course I had no honest idea, but it left me with the distinct impression that just maybe there’s a… hole in the framework, so to speak? We managed to slip through once, so I’m guessing we should be able to slip through again.”
Sugar glared at him. “This is the part where you tell us we need to leave the room and go wandering around this deathtrap, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.”
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I can simpatize
That went... about as well as could be hoped. Sometimes it's good to not have charisma be your dump stat.
Well I can certainly say that I didn’t think that the monstrous bastard from the first arc had a wife and kids.
Well, this was delightful. Love the duality of the "We're the Supernatural Event Emergency Response Team. Some days that means saving the world, other days it means helping some Xth-dimensional being find their family."
cue beny hill.
Of course. I should've suspected that the answer to "What kind of psychonaut are we dealing with?" would be "None of the above." Also, never underestimate the power of politeness. You ward off more horrific eviscerations with honey than with vinegar.
That's a pretty great line. Nicely written.
If this "mother" is who I think she is, then they are in very serious trouble.
Ha! I watched two of those!
The first was just confusing, the second made no sense at all.