Tumblefields [ONC 2021]

12 - Epilogue

"I have outlasted all desire,
My dreams and I have grown apart;
My grief alone is left entire,
The gleamings of an empty heart.
- Alexander Pushkin.

12 - Epilogue

Jojo sauntered over to the sofa, five beer bottles hooked between his fingers, and began placing them down in front of his friends. The basement room was, for all intents and purposes, his own little apartment in his mom and dad's sprawling house. Complete with its own kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.

He had considered moving out, getting a place of his own closer to the centre of town, but he could never find the energy to search for something he could afford. The basement was cheap, secure and he could always raid the refrigerator, upstairs, if he forgot to buy food.

Mikey and Todd battered the console controllers in their hands as they battled against each other while staring at the flashing images on the sixty-five inch, eight-k screen, attached to the wall. Jojo had it good here. Why bother rocking that boat.

Tink watched the other guys play at soldiers, sat on the edge of the sofa, impatient to take his turn. He wouldn't last long. Tink had no sense of self-preservation. Flying in to battles without any regard for his own safety or with anything that Jojo could call tactics. Much like Tink was in life.

Abel sat at the end of the sofa, clutching the latest comic book in his hands, ignoring the mayhem on the screen and on the sofa beside him. Quiet, studious, Abel was the loner of their little team of would-be adventurers. If the team ever got outside to even attempt any adventures.

"Get off my back, man!" Mikey slammed his shoulder into Todd, attempting to put his friend off the game. "No fair! Give me a chance to breathe, damn it!"

"No mercy, bruh. No mercy." Standing, Todd hammered the buttons with his thumbs and Mikey's character disappeared in an explosion of blood and guts. Todd punched the controller in the air. "Smithereens!"

Mikey dropped his controller to his side, raising his hands to his face, trying to ignore Todd's victory dance. Jojo laughed as he tipped beer into his mouth, lifting a foot onto his coffee table as Todd thrust his crotch towards Mikey's distraught face. A beep from his phone caused Jojo to lean forward, picking it up and checking the notification.

"Almost time. Switch over to the browser." Pointing towards the remote control in front of Tink, Jojo dropped his phone back on the table. "Here comes the big, secret announcement."

"I hear it's about those girls. You know those girls." Without lifting his head from the comic book, Abel nodded towards the phone. "Some big reveal."

"Nah, man. Those frigid bitches are old news." Tink looked around as all eyes turned to him. "What? So, the Zoo Crew got themselves offed? Big deal. I cried no tears."

"So, because none of them wanted to sleep with you, they're frigid?" Dropping his controller onto the coffee table, Todd shook his head at Tink. "Bruh, you're an asshole."

"And? No, none of them wanted a piece of this." Tink thrust a hand, knife-like, towards his crotch. "Not even the fat bitch. And two of 'em were lesbos, anyway. Striking out there was a no-brainer."

"Did you just dis three women in two sentences? Just because they didn't want your dick?" Looking across Todd's thick form, all muscles upon muscles, Mikey grimaced at Tink. "Todd's right, you are an asshole."

"I'm only saying what y'all are thinking." Throwing up his hands, Tink flopped back on the sofa. "Them girls got what they had coming."

"Tink. Get out. You've been warned, more than once, by all of us." Jojo had had enough. Tink had always rubbed him up the wrong way and he had only waited for an excuse to move him out of the group. "You got no respect, man. No respect, no friends. Get out and don't come back."

Tink leaned forward, a grin on his face until he saw Jojo's set features and that look. The unblinking eyes that begged Tink to test him. Throwing up his hands again, Tink jumped to his feet, pushing everything from the top of the coffee table before storming towards the private back entrance to the basement. He slammed the door, cracking the dirty pane of glass.

"Good riddance." Folding the comic book closed, Abel tossed it onto the now empty coffee table. "Beyond time you did that. Oop! Showtime!"

They had set the tv's browser ready for the announcement and, as it refreshed, a live feed began automatically. A masked face appeared in front of a burnt out building, the blackened timbers reaching like fingers towards the sky in the background. The masked person paused, staring into the camera.

"Tumblefields is gone." A voice, electronically disguised, blurted from the speakers. "And the Tumblefields Challenge is no more. So sad. But many mysteries, secrets and questions remain after that fateful night, six months ago. What really happened within the walls of the abandoned madhouse?"

Jojo found himself sitting forward and he could see the others as rapt with attention as he was. True, many questions did remain about that night and the days leading up to it. People still talked about those girls, in hushed, fearful whispers. He pushed the thoughts aside as the masked face lifted a briefcase in front of the camera.

"But I don't care about none of that. I'm only it for the gruesome horrors." The distorted voice laughed and the masked face shook the briefcase. "I have in my hands ten thousand dollars, cash money, for the first person to brave these ruins and find the two skulls reported to remain within. Five grand, per skull. I'd do it myself, but where's the fun in that? Tumblefields Challenge is dead! Welcome to Tumblefields Challenge two-point-oh!"

-+- -+- -+-

Nurse Ogawa had seen many terrible injuries in her long career. So many. The injuries that the girl in the private room, at the end of the corridor, had suffered six months ago were beyond anything she had ever seen and she hoped she would never see its like again. The other nurses would talk in whispers about that poor girl, but not Nurse Ogawa. She had more respect than that.

Breezing into the room, Nurse Ogawa always tried to give the impression that, despite what life had thrown at her patients, there was always a tomorrow, somewhere down the line, when hope and hard work could make their life better. She didn't always believe it herself, but she never let it show.

"Good morning, honey! Let's have a look at your charts." Picking up the metal board hanging from the end of the bed, she examined the notes from the night before. "You having trouble sleeping, honey? I'll see about stronger sleeping medication for you tonight. How are you?"

"Bad dreams." The voice came, not from the patient, but from the special laptop on the trolley table.

In the months after her admission, the patient had had no voice until this wonderful new device came for her. With the one finger she had left that had any movement or feeling, she had learnt to use the special braille keyboard and the unique software to give her back her voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. That's awful." Nurse Ogawa busied herself, checking the patient's pulse and temperature, writing it down on the charts. "I hope the new medication will give you sweet dreams, huh?"

"Bad dreams." The synthesised voice repeated as the patient tapped out the words with a finger missing pieces of flesh. "Every night."

"Why, we all have bad dreams, honey. I'll talk to your doctor and see what I can do." Detaching the colostomy bag, dangling from the side of the bed, Nurse Ogawa replaced it with an empty one. "We can't have you having those nasty bad dreams, can we?"

"She coming." The patient's ravaged hand slammed against the table in frustration before tapping out more words. "She's coming."

"'She's coming'? Who's coming, honey? A friend?" Nurse Ogawa held her face set in a smile, even though the patient couldn't see her. She never showed pity to the patients, only happiness.

"Rachel." As soon as that word came from the speakers, the patient typed again and again and again. "Rachel. Rachel. Rachel."

That one word continued to come from the speakers as Nurse Ogawa allowed a frown to reach her forehead. For some reason, it felt as though a chill wind had passed through the room. It couldn't be an open window.

This room didn't have any windows