Transgression (Prequel #1)

4 - Fortune

Idle beneath the rapidly scrolling overhead of red clouds and wind like a screaming banshee; Alex stared with anonymity into the sickening blood moon peering through the cracks. Unable to whisper or change the direction of his thoughts; chaotic will fueled a desire within him to destroy. His physical body was non-existent to the wind, untouched by its slashing air but prone to the weight of oppression emitted from the abyss. A nauseating trigger in his gut slithered over every pore of his skin, forcing him to crumble to the earth in agony while the sky slowly shattered like glass.

The very structure of this world rained nightmare filled shards of supposed reality to the ground; resulting in the ground itself to snap and fall into another sky beneath his feet. Down he fell in an infinite loop of red clouds until his body reached such immense speed, that the pressure began to crush his internal organs; making it impossible to scream. The impossibly fast rush of air passing by his head had burst his ear drums and nullified any heat in his body. The torture continued endlessly, falling and falling until all he knew became a blur.

Then, as if the previous events had not existed, Alex found himself standing once more. This time, at the doorstep to his apartment. Unlocked, he opened it slowly with a light touch reveal a blinding light, and in that light stood a silhouetted figure unrecognizable as anything more than a shadow. A hushed whisper, barely audible in the emptiness reached out to him.

"Birth."

The aggressive blaring of his telephone threw Alex into a state of panic as he was ripped out of his nightmare. Both feet launched themselves upward with the startling noise, smashing his shins into the underside of the coffee table.

"Fucking hell!" He exclaimed as he leaned forward and used the table to hoist himself up.

The moment he became vertical, a crippling blood-rush went straight to his head and threw his balance in every direction; at the same time his legs attempted to identify the new pain. He managed to catch himself by taking hold of the couch arm and leaning on it, gripping his forehead with a searing headache.

With half closed eyes, he scanned the dark apartment for anything out of the ordinary. A foreboding sense hovered over his head, unleashing an alarm of paranoia that was accompanied by the still ringing phone. Everything he saw was out of focus, moving without going anywhere and a generally fictional feeling. Unable to process anything, his body left his mind behind and staggered towards the phone.

Stumbling over a few crushed cans and boxes of take-out, he arrived at the divider wall and placed one hand on the wall for support and the other on the phone. He hesitated at first, taking a few seconds to look past the wall into the kitchen and witness the destruction that had occurred, inflicted by his subconscious.

The fridge door was wide open, leaking cold air onto the floor which itself was covered in dirt, paper and a strewn about loaf of moldy bread. Before answering, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat while wearily looking behind him. The only window in the living room was on the wall just on the other side of the couch and overlooked the parking lot. The curtain he had covering the window ensured it was dark inside, and the state of the world was a mystery.

Another ring did not shake him from his concern as the memories of the blood clouds resurfaced, and he considered the possibility of his nightmare persisting here. Another ring and finally he ripped it from the hook and pressed the speaker to his ear.

"Mm-hello." He grumbled.

"Morning sunshine." A gravelly voice greeted him.

"Paul? What are you doing calling me so early?"

"Awh jeez. Don't tell me you just got out of bed." He groaned.

"I didn't just get out of bed, as long as my couch isn't considered a bed." Alex joked in monotone.