OtherWorld House

Chapters 1,2, and a very small portion of 3

 


Chapter 1:
I don't use drugs, my dreams are frightening enough.
-M. C. Escher



"What?" Woodrake's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "What did you say, Smith?"
Smith cowered, knowing the feel of Woodrake's hand and fearing it. "I-I . . ." He swallowed with difficulty. "I said that . . . she killed the guard, sir."
Woodrakes's eyes widened to the point that they were bugging out of his sunken sockets. He slammed his scrolls upon the table. "Say that again!" he roared.
"I s-said-"
"Damn you! I know what you said, fool! How did she kill him? She was behind bars and chained, was she not?"
Smith was grey, wishing, as his knees quaked, that he had never been born at that moment. "She . . . she peeled a piece of wood from her table and slipped it into his drink. He ch-choked to death, s-sir! She laughed when he did, too! I . . . I was so scared I couldn't move! I'm sorry, sir! I'm sorry!"
Woodrake hissed vehemently, and struck out at Smith. "This is all your fault, boy! I don't know how, but it is! All of your 'listening' and 'talkin'' got her all started! She was whipped! Whipped like a dog, and you came around! I ought to throw you in the cell with

"Liberty, I . . . need to talk to you."
I glanced at him, my fingers still flying across the keyboard. "Can't you see I'm on a roll here, Al?" I turned back to the screen. "Madelyn's just killed Friendly with only a wood splinter. Woodrake, of course has just performed a marvelous example of child abuse on little Smith, and she's about to make a grand attempt at escape-"
"No, Liberty . . . I . . . I really need . . . to talk to you."
I bit my lip in concentration. "Just one sec . . . there. Sentence complete. What is it?"
Alex fidgeted, rubbing his hands together slowly. I stared at him, frowning as I leaned back in my seat with a low creak. I waited patiently for about . . . oh, let's round up and say five seconds.
"Look, if I have to wait for another second I'm going to lose the freshness of my creative juices and I'll have to go to jail for the murder of you."
He jumped, his pale green eyes darting around the room before landing on me again, and staying this time around. I examined his nervous stature critically; I could use those tense eyes for the next character I was going to introduce-Craven. Alex wasn't bad looking. Yes, his curly red-gold hair made him seem three inches taller than his six-foot and he should have cut it long ago, and his face was thinner than the normal, but no one was perfect. His long eyelashes and-dare I say-fabulous complexion could be the envy of any girl. I would have resented him if he hadn't been born on the opposite side of the gender wall.
"I, um, this is kind of hard to say." he mumbled.
I shrugged. "Then let's dance. Use charades instead." My fingers were itching to return to the computer keys.
Alex shuffled his feet, jammed his white hands into his pockets. "Okay. So. What. If I told you that . . ."
He stopped.
"'If I told you that . . .'?" I narrowed my eyes. "That . . . Brad Pitt died?" I guessed. "I'd cry about the world losing a fabulous talent."
He shook his head.
"That you're on prednisone? Well, you're moody, but I doubt you're on hormone pills, dude. First, you lack the rack, and second, I doubt that you have a nice-"
"I'm not taking hormone pills!"
I sighed. "Well, I need something work with here. You're not exactly a hat full of words." I complained, spinning in my chair to return to my work.
"It's just-God, I don't know what to freaking say, alright?" He chewed his lip, staring at the hardwood flooring as if he were hoping the grains in the wood would flock together and write out the obvious gibberish that was running through his mind.
"Alex, I'm your friend. I'm not your psychologist, and I don't think I'm on enough drugs to be your psychologist. Just tell me." I said, arching my eyebrow. After another minute of silence, I let out an exasperated sort of growl, stomping my feet on the floor. "Oh, for the love of Mike, the creative juices are flat now! You might as well make this worth my juice! Madelyn's escape isn't going to have the verve and essence that is her life! Her life! Her personality will be this foggy thing no one will know until my juice is revived. Do you know how important this part of the story is? Was?"