MONDAY
Jane marched into Wind's vacated room, armed only with an empty trash bag and a sense of mission. The room was in the usual disheveled, filthy state in which Wind usually left it, with candy bar wrappers and food scraps left everywhere, scattered like the place had been ransacked by a hungry ten-year-old.
Wind, she mentally addressed her absent sibling as she tossed the refuse into the plastic bag, are you incapable of doing anything for yourself, other than mooching off us and screwing up relationships?
Jane: (Thoughts) I don't ask much out of a living space, but I draw the line at attracting rats and mice. She couldn't abide the vermin; they nibbled on her paintings.
Which is why, every time Wind departed after one of his unannounced visits, she found herself playing maid, scouring his room for every last bread crust and empty soft drink can he had left behind, leaving nothing that might attract art-destroying rodents.
Wind had been visiting for the past two days, and had just up and left the night before (a circumstance Jane welcomed, despite the extra work it brought her). It had been an odd visit, though; he hadn't shown up crying, so he wasn't on the outs with his girlfriend du jour, and he hadn't asked for money.
Instead, he had holed up in his room, barely making his way outside those four walls. And then, he had just left, with no more explanation given than when he had arrived. He hadn't even spent any time inside the new "naming gazebo". All of which just made the usual littered state of his room even worse.
Having picked up every visible scrap of food, Jane gave the room a final once over, and noticed something she had missed, or ignored, the first time around. Lying on Wind's bed was a plain, unmarked videotape. She picked it up and examined it from all sides, but there was nothing to give a clue as to its origins or contents.
Jane: (Thoughts) I guess Wind forgot it. There's something intriguing about unmarked tapes, but it's probably just one of those marriage counseling TV shows he's so addicted to. Or maybe it's something a little more . . . private. Did Wind make videos like that?
Jane didn't know whether to be titillated or disgusted with the possibility. Well, I have to watch it now, just to find out. If it's one of those, I'll turn it off right away.
Normally, the TV in this room didn't have a VCR, but Jane noticed that there was one hooked up now. Looking closer, she realized that it was the set from the living room television.
Jane: (Thoughts) Wind must have brought it up here to watch the tape in private; maybe it really is him and some girl . . . ew.
Jane stuck out her tongue at the thought, but was still curious enough to try it out. She slid the tape into the deck, and pressed play . . .
Daria was sitting at her computer, searching for a starting point for her new Melody Powers story. Her T.V was on with a news report being played.
New reporter: Breaking news today Charles Lee Ray also know as The Great Lakes Strangler. Has died in a police chase. Eddie Caputo the partner to Charles Lee Ray, has just escaped. Police believe that he still in the city or is somewhere in the town close by the name of Royal Woods. More details to follow at the news at 9 next.
Then Jane burst into her room, waving a videotape over her head.
Jane: Yo, amiga, you've gotta see this!
She exclaimed as she walked over to Daria's television. Daria herself was surprised by her friend's enthusiasm; of the two of them, Daria was much more the film buff. Jane had accompanied her to a few arthouse screenings, but had never shown more than cursory interest. Jane's taste in film ran more towards the exploding head variety, which Daria found amusing only in small doses.
Daria: What is it?
She asked somewhat cautiously as she walked over to her bed and sat down at her usual TV-viewing position.
Jane: I'm not really sure.
Distracted by getting the tape into the built-in VCR. Daria cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.
Daria: So you've decided to start showing me random videotapes?
Jane: I found it in Wind's room this morning, while I was cleaning up after him.
With Jane now paying fuller attention, having gotten the tape in and activated the unit. She took the remote and joined Daria on the bed. Her voice betrayed none of her usual irritation at having to pick up after her older brother.
Jane: It's this weird collection of images, very surreal. Very creepy. I'm not sure what it all means.
Daria: And you think I should see this why, exactly?
Not that Daria wasn't up for the surreal and creepy, but if it had been found in Wind's possession she doubted that there could be anything particularly special about it.
Jane: Because I haven't been able to get the images out of my head all day; it's given me all sorts of great sketches.
She pulled one of her pocket-sized sketchbooks out of her jacket and waved it in Daria's face, then flipped very rapidly through it. Daria wasn't able to catch a good glimpse of the contents, but it appeared nearly full.
Jane: I can't remember the last time I've produced so much. So I thought you might appreciate the inspiration; besides, I want to see what you make of it all.
Daria couldn't deny her friend's enthusiasm, and seeing as how her own inspiration seemed elusive at present, she gave Jane the affirmative. Jane started the tape.
. . . a ring of light . . . static . . . red water . . . a woman in a mirror . . . a girl with long hair in the mirror . . . a man in a window . . . a coastline with a twisted tree . . . a mouth with a long tube running out . . . a barren tree . . . a crescent of light . . . a fingertip impaled on a nail . . . writhing maggots . . . a centipede crawling out from under a table . . . a horse's eye . . . severed fingers in a box . . . the barren tree on fire . . . the woman standing in front of the mirror, turning to look at the viewer . . . the window . . . the chair hanging upside down in the air and spinning . . . a single ladder propped up against a wall . . . dead horses on the coastline . . . the woman falls off a cliff . . . the ladder . . . the ring of light . . . a well . . . static
As the images flashed by, Daria found herself transfixed, unable to turn away. The images made no sense, but somehow they were compelling, entrancing, disturbing, and by the time it was over, Daria was annoyed to find herself fighting down an extreme sense of unease, as though she had just woken from a nightmare. She was even breathing a bit heavily, and she wondered if she had been holding her breath without noticing.
Jane: So, what do you think?
With Jane ejecting the tape and slipping it into her jacket pocket. She was eager to hear her friend's considered opinion, but Daria didn't know what to say. She wanted to shrug it off with a joke, some sarcastic comment that would trivialize the strange effect it had had on her, but she found she couldn't dismiss it that easily.
Then, downstairs, the phone rang; the sound was faint, and only occurred once, but it was enough of an outside stimulus to bring her out of the hold the tape had put on her. Jane was grinning sadistically.
Jane: It had that effect on me, too, when I first watched it, but after an hour or so I started to get all sorts of great ideas. I'm thinking of doing a whole series of paintings inspired by it.
Daria: We should send it in to Sick, Sad, World. They would love to get their hands on something this bizarre.
Jane: Yeah, I thought about it, but since I don't know who created it, there would probably be some copywrite issue. Plus that Charles Lee Ray story going to be on for a while.
Daria: So Wind didn't say anything about it?
Jane: Nope. (shacking her head) He didn't breathe a word. I just found it in his room. Maybe he's trying his hand at filmmaking, or has a friend who is. But speaking of Sick, Sad World.
She flipped the channel, and familiar lone eye filled the screen. Its familiarity helped to soothe Daria's nerves, and soon things were back to normal again.
The only sign that the tape had ever existed was that, every few minutes, Jane would pick up her sketchbook and draw a few quick lines, then return it to her pocket.
Daria was curious to see what she had come up with, but the images of the tape were too fresh in her mind for her to want to see, at this very moment, what Jane's mind had done with them; she could take a look later.
About an hour later, Helen called Daria to dinner, and Jane stood up to leave.
Daria: Are you sure you want to go? We've got all the lasagna you can eat.
Jane: I think I'll pass. I'd rather spend my time working on these new paintings than playing Twenty Questions with your parents.
They both go down the stairs, and as Jane exited the door, she turned towards the kitchen, and walked in just as her mother was removing the lasagna from the oven. She was the first one there.
Helen: Daria, please tell your friends that I don't appreciate practical jokes, especially when I'm waiting for a call from Eric. (Her voice being stern.)
Daria: I'll be sure to pass that on to my hoard of practical-joke-playing companions.
Helen: Seriously, Daria. I was waiting for a very important call about an hour ago, but when the phone rang, it was some girl. She just said 'seven days', and then hung up.
Daria: Jane was in my room an hour ago, and that's not her style anyway. What did she sound like?
Helen: Young. She had a very high voice.
Daria: It was probably one of Quinn's fashion fiends; sounds like Stacy. Or maybe just a wrong number.
Though from what Daria knew of the pig-tailed sycophant, that sort of joke wasn't really her style either.
Helen: Maybe.
Helen conceded, just as Jake and Quinn entered the room.
Daria didn't give the incident a second thought.
Author notes.
I hope you guys like the chapter. Before anyone says anything. The is the America Ring not the original Japanese version. Meant change it to mature.
I just want to say that Akira Toriyama the man. Who made me want to write stories and me want to show it to people. Toriyama was the person that help grow my imagination, storytelling, and story ideas. He's the hole reason why I post stuff on Wattpad. So after every chapter and every story. I will say this.
R.I.P Akira Toriyama. Thank you for everything.
"Always remember these words: Work hard, study well, and eat and sleep plenty. For that is the Turtle Hermit way."