...my name is... my name...
"Johan! Wake up already!"
The gehenna of broken mirrors gnashed, reflecting thunder and lightning... it discharged the brittle feeling of integrity with crimson bursts as I struggled to gather the tiny pieces. I needed strength and time, then I could...
"Go easy on the boy." Said a throaty voice, enveloping the thunder and dousing the lightning...
"Go easy? Why should I? He doesn't even look like a human being anymore! Back to his old habits, the shithead!"
External interference refused to let me concentrate, threatening to drag me to the depths without giving me a choice. Shuddering, I forced myself to pull myself together and open my eyes.
With sudden clarity, I saw the face of a grey gorilla of a person with a very square jaw. I immediately thought of Zeus the Stormbringer, probably because of all the associated ruckus... which still resonated through my body. The gorilla Zeus crouched before me with malice in his eyes.
Strange, albeit not at all important. What was important was to extinguish the feeling of permanent loss; to not fall apart into primitive pieces of 'me' doomed to an eternity of loneliness and suffering... time... strength... flow...
"I can see that you're back to your senses already. Quiet, Caleb, I know what I'm doing!"
What he's doing? Is he causing me pain? Who is he?
"Who are you?" I wheezed, opening my eyes again. "Who. Are. You!"
The gorilla turned his head towards the curly-haired shorty perched atop the billiard table.
"See?" He said. "Did you hear that? He doesn't recognise me! Maybe you should show mercy and strangle him right now?"
"Who the hell are you?" I screamed, trying to crawl away. What do you want? Answer me, motherfucker!"
The gorilla's upper lip quivered, baring the large teeth behind it. A clenched fist suddenly appeared in front of my face but relaxed at the last moment...
"This is for 'motherfucker'!"
The following strike almost twisted my neck and filled me with such hatred, the likes of which I have never felt before.
A slap!
Humiliation!
From a human!
From the metallic taste of resentment came a realisation: it was them! They brought me out of the astral plane! It's their fault! First they tore me apart; now it's my turn. Rip! And! Tear!
Hatred propelled me at the gorilla and my head collided with the painfully square jaw. I began hitting him; in the face, nose, ears, even pushing his eyes into his skull...
But a single hit from that man brought me back into my miserable fragmented state with numerous doomed pieces of 'me'. I shouted but my tormentors did not understand my pain. I screamed as they dragged me across the floor and handcuffed me to a pipe. I fell silent when a stream of ice-cold water hit my face.
I could scream no more.
***
Figuring out the speed at which time flows in a human body is subjective and unreliable. By my estimate, about four hours have passed before the gorilla showed his ugly face again. He entered the cramped bathroom and sat on the toilet like a king on his throne.
Johan's memories, which luckily I still had full access to, defined the gorilla as 'father,' 'old prick,' 'despot' and the list goes on. I wholeheartedly agreed. But if you remove the teenage exaggerations and primitive processes like 'dad won't hurt me much and mommy will protect me regardless', then I was left with a strong and cunning opponent, despite the deep wrinkles and grey hair saying otherwise.
I was on edge from the aura of strength, confidence and roughness of a man with tremendous power. Oh, I shouldn't have angered him! Maybe then the conditions of my confinement wouldn't have been as harsh. But with the state I was in... I just couldn't hold back. My temperament will be the death of me one day.
According to the memories, this place was a sort of basement where the 'old prick' brought and entertained the rare guests. Besides the main hall, there was a walk-in storage closet with limited access and a couple of rooms for various equipment.
The place had no windows. There were two exits but the pain in my wrists reminded me those weren't an option. Yelling for help was also pointless due to inconvenient soundproofing. The only thing left to do was go with the flow and apply defensive behaviour.
"Eat."
'Father' contemptuously lobbed a plastic plate with mashed potatoes towards me. The pale yellow mass sprinkled with green onions looked quite decent but my dried-up stomach didn't even acknowledge the presence of food.
"Thank you, but I don't seem to have any appetite." I answered politely. "You wouldn't have any beer, by any chance?"
The gorilla's bushy brows twitched angrily and I understood that I won't be getting any.
I spent the previous few hours trying to figure out which part of me they have ripped off. The results came out quite terrible. I somehow tried to stitch the holes back up but lack of effective coagulants left me grinding my teeth in frustration and disappointment. The ability to block physical and emotional functions was so useful! Now I just have to sit here and suffer. Plus my captors tore off all my clothes before leaving and now the only thing left between this bony ass and the cold floor is a thin plastic bath mat.
It's a pity that this Johan doesn't have a bit more meat on his bones, although it is partially my fault for not looking after the body... the reflection from the shower door displayed how this bag of meat deteriorated since I got control over it; the body lost weight, grew a stubble and don't even get me started on the hair... or lack thereof. But this wasn't on purpose, it was only due to the circumstances. À la guerre comme à la guerre. All's fair in love and war; emphasis on war.
Speaking of which...
"Eat!" Father's voice boomed. "Or would you rather that I force-feed you?"
'What a voice...' I thought. 'Definitely suited for barking out orders.' I looked at his clenched fists and muscles bulging out of his thin black shirt and was immediately convinced that he would. And probably enjoy it all the while.
"How am I supposed to eat?" I asked, jingling my handcuffs.
"Lower your head and use your mouth."
"Like a dog?"
"Exactly like a dog."
Following his instructions, I put my head above the plate and began to consume the mashed potatoes. I got it all over my face but managed to wipe some of it off with my forearm.
Father seemed surprised. Looks like he didn't expect such obedience. I had to make use of the opportunity.
"I'm thirsty." I said, licking the remaining food from under my nose. "Some water, at least. But preferably beer."
I expected to receive the water in a dog bowl but instead got a bottle, even with a plastic straw. Looks like daddy had some parental feelings in him, after all.
"Done?" He asked as soon as I sat up.
"Depends on what you need from me."
"Don't be smart. Where have you been all this time?"
"Online." I answered honestly.
"Maybe you were, but more importantly; what did you consume?"
"Beer."
"Don't take me for an idiot."
"Are you talking about drugs?" I said, finally figuring out the source of his anger. "I didn't take any, I promise! Just beer; nothing more, nothing less."
"So it was the beer that got you so fucked up yesterday?"
"Well, maybe... but it could have also been the lack of sleep, stress..." I suggested but when I realised that he wasn't buying it, I screamed:
"I swear I'm clean! How can I prove it? Do a test or something! I can piss in a bottle right now! I'm not lying!"
Father grimaced.
"If you keep being disrespectful I'll prolong your sentence."
"How long will it take?" I quickly asked.
"As long as it takes."
"Takes to what?"
"Listen, I'm the one asking questions here! Now tell me, where the hell have you been?"
"I thought you knew... I was with that girl, Ingrid, you know her."
"You're lying!"
Inhale... exhale. I couldn't lose control even if the false accusations pissed me off like crazy. I tried to focus on the cracks in the green wall tiles. Inhale... exhale.
"I have no reason to lie to you."
"Lies! Even if you were with her at first, you could've easily slipped away and gone god knows where. And so you know, I was there, at your friend's house. That's right, I paid her a visit on the third day when your mother started consuming more pills than actual food."
Inhale... exhale. One crack came down all the way from the ceiling. Another branched out of the corner by the toilet like roots of wild bergamot. Inhale... exhale. Calm voice, calm!
"I didn't leave the house."
"But that hysterical blonde, what was her name... right, Marie. Well, Marie greeted me in just her underwear, which was barely covering enough to be called that, and said the following:"
'Yes, Johan was here. Unfortunately, he has left but we eagerly await his return!'
"How touching. And you trusted that idiot?"
"Yes, how stupid of me to trust that idiot. I should've started an investigation, maybe even showed up with the police and a warrant, right?"
"I repeat, I did not leave the house. You can ask Ingrid, she's been with me all that time."
"Did you drink together?"
"I don't think she did. Although I can't remember exactly, I was too distracted by the internet and didn't pay attention to little things like that."
"So distracted that your brain overheated and burned your hair off?"
I took a closer look at my reflection. The only parts of Johan's hair that weren't singed to the scalp were a couple of charred clumps near the right ear. 'Again with these pointless explanations.' I sighed.
"Not my fault. I tripped and my head landed on a candle."
"Wo-o-ow. Just drama on top of drama. So, to recap: you went to your friend's house, spent four days glued to a screen, hit your head on a candle..."
"That's not..."
"Shut up, I've had enough! Meanwhile, you let yourself get so filthy that a pig would vomit and then you decided it was the perfect time to return home, right? And the first thing you do is seek forgiveness from your sister?"
"Not that! Bloody hell, there's absolutely no mutual understanding between us. I tried to help Sophie!"
At that moment I thought of a great lie and quickly tried to make it sound convincing:
"It's not like I spent four days online just for the hell of it. Wouldn't hurt if you did some research yourself! What do you know about comatose patients, huh? Did you even know that they still perceive reality like normal and we need to always talk with them? Well, I did and wanted to talk to Sophie. Thought structures! I almost achieved contact! A cure! And you... you dragged me here before I could finish!"
"Have you completely lost it?" Father cut.
"Lost it? These are scientific facts! Do you need proof? Let me see Sophie, just for an hour, and see for yourself whether she wakes up after I talk to her. I would just be sitting beside her, holding her hand at most. Please, I beg you! What do you say? We won't lose anything by performing this little experiment."
"Stop with all that gibberish! Is your sister just a guinea pig to you?"
"Well, she seems to already be one to you. After all, you did bring an exorcist here."
"What gave you the idea that Caleb is an exorcist?"
"It doesn't matter!" I couldn't contain my irritation. "You just happen to have a thing for demons. You're a grown man and still believe in such utter nonsense?"
Father started to breathe loudly as his face turned a deep red. Reminded me of a bull in a bullfighting ring. I wished for him to get an immediate stroke, fully expecting to receive a knuckle sandwich.
But it never came.
Instead, Father just got up and headed to the door. But before slamming the door, without turning around, he said:
"For most of my life I haven't believed in 'such utter nonsense' but a certain someone was very insistent. How could you even think about saying that to me? After everything..."
And I had a lot more where that came from, but only once the heavy footsteps were no longer audible. Thinking back, I should not have escalated the situation during the verbal conflict.
You have to be sensible and think of the consequences when unloading on someone.