Telluric

Chapter IX: Heads or Tails?

IX

The room was dark, with gray gleams from metallic objects just barely visible to Noah's dim sight. Feeling numb and disoriented, Noah tried moving his arms. Feeling restrained, he struggled against the table.

A sudden realization caused Noah to gasp in air and begin screaming. He was in the basement of the Porter's house. He lifted his head up and looked down at his legs, which didn't seem to be able to move. Screaming and wailing in grief, Noah saw that his legs didn't seem to be there, instead seeming to be just slices of bloody meat.

But there was no pain, only the distant echo of wailing.

Footsteps then changed Noah's concentration to the stairs.

"Please, help!" Noah screamed out, though the words seemed lost in the deepening footsteps. Suddenly, the light bulb swinging on a single cord flickered on. The light glared and nearly blinded Noah with it's surprising intensity.

The door opened slowly, creaking and sending shivers up Noah's spine. Turning his head slowly, he saw the person enter the room.

It was the Masked Man.

The masked man approached the end of Noah's restraining table and looked down upon him. He put his finger to his beak and signaled a 'hush' sign to Noah.

"What does that mean?" Noah whispered. The plague doctor did not answer. For what seemed like an eternity, the two watched each other as if in a childish staring-contest. A certain intensity and darkness followed this masked man, but also a sort of serenity and tranquility. Noah wasn't sure whether to embrace the man or fear him.

There was no time for that however, as the air within the room began to grow thicker and thicker. The source, Noah soon discovered, was sand slowly pouring from the ceiling. Struggling against his restraints, he watched the Masked Man put up a finger to his beak. Suddenly, he wasn't frightened but tranquil.

And the dirt and sand poured until it was covering nearly half of the room, almost consuming Noah. The masked man watched numbly and did nothing. Suddenly, a pressing darkness consumed Noah's field of view.

And he woke up.

***

Noah tried to forget the black eye. Noah tried to forget the various bruises on his body. Noah tried to forget his slight limp. Noah tried to forget the memories of the previous night, but he also wanted to remember them. He rubbed his arm, getting ready for his final day of school before another weekend resumed.

He wore a sweater and a pea coat to cover up his arms, a scarf for his neck, and he began his trek to school. His short-curly hair that stayed central to his head offered no concealment for his eye, however.

Walking through the morning snow, Noah began having visions of the night before, when he arrived home.

His arrival home was originally numbed by the perpetual bliss that left Noah feeling as if nothing in the world could reach the high he was on. Full of giggles and false hopes, he went on with the business he usually attended to when he was home from school, despite it being about six o'clock.

His father was in the living room, his hand on a bottle of beer, and from the littered cans and glass bottles that inhabited the carpet-space around the chair his father was sitting in, it seemed as though it wasn't his first of the night. Taking a menacing look at Noah, Gregory Fitzgerald approached his son.

His mother seemed to be already up in bed, leaving Noah to face his father alone. Getting all up in his face, Noah smelled the cheap alcohol on the breath of his father's words.