The Eden Projects (EDITING)

Chapter 8. Boogeyman.

Kasper was dreaming.

And he was angry.

If not before, then now, he was angry. With himself, and perhaps the world around him that seemed to mock his existence. In the beginning, when this would happen, he considered the possibility that he had absolutely lost his mind, teetering on the brink of sanity. He would hide, somehow drift away, and wake up in the middle of nowhere, enveloped by an unsettling silence. Copious amounts of time having passed, as if the universe had simply moved on, leaving him stranded in a void of his own making.

So he waited.

Unable to fight his way back to the present, he felt like a ghost haunting the remnants of his former life, trapped in this limbo. 

Kasper was suspended between moments, lost in the ether of his thoughts. He had lost his own corporeality, feeling lighter than air, he could float away at any moment and maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Listening as things went on around him. His old life, filled with mundane sounds that now echoed like the pattering of a child's footsteps down acrid hall. Sliding chairs and baggies sealing with soft "zips," signifying transitions he could no longer partake in. Cups toppling and cabinets clacking, laughter, the noise of chaos that once felt familiar now only deepened his sense of isolation. 

Trash rummaging... 

and screaming. 

Himself, and all the ones he left there, their voices a haunting chorus he could not escape. "You left us" They'd say, they always did. He knew it wasn't real, but that didn't matter. It was there, vivid and undeniable, he had seen it all play out in front of him again and again. This was nightmare from which he could not fully awaken.

Something shook him.

His face burned.

And he heard the footfalls of a familiar giant.

He opened his eyes.

Archer's angry face crowded into it. "Kasper wake up-" He had one hand drawn back into a ball. His lip was swollen to one side, and the dry dye of blood hung under his nose.

"Eh?" Kasper was woozy. But he choked out the word. He had vomited at some point during his trip. The taste of it clung to his teeth and tongue. "Where-" He moved ever so gently.

"Shh..." He threw a hand over Kasper's mouth and flicked the light off. Pointing quickly to his own eyes. Rubies.

"Here?" Kasper whispered and rubbed away the pain in his chest. His own breath bounced off Archer's hand and returned to him with an acidic scent.

Archer let go and nodded, handing him his gun. Tucking the flash light back into his belt. They had a code. If there was danger, regardless of who you were, you deserved a fighting chance. He motioned that there were at least three, moving at the outskirts of the camp.

Kasper understood.

They were in trouble.

"Stay low." Archer whispered and crouched against the wall of whatever building they were next to.

This wasn't where he had sat.

He had moved.

"They heard your shot."

"I shot?"

Archer nodded with a confused look on his face.

I'm awake. The feeling of the drenched bricks settled into his fingertips. Archer was already making his way ahead, covered in dirt and mud; bits of leaves had stuck to the back of his shirt. Did he fall?  Did I do it?