Vin laughed as he drops another handful of popcorn into his mouth. Nothing said relaxation like popcorn, a Dr. Pepper and The Office for a Thursday Night. He stretched as a nasal decongestant commercial danced across the screen as he rose and set off on a hunt for another soda to polish off. As Vin reached the refrigerator door, a flurry of vibrations and sound effects erupted from inside his pants pocket. Vin groaned, extracting his cell phone to see the name Roxanne <3 flashing back at him. Roxanne. If ever their was a study that could prove telepathic sensitivity, Roxanne would be their number one test subject. It didn’t matter the time of day or the day itself, but once Vin began to relax, Roxanne would make her entrance. He hit talk, knowing that ignoring a phone call would only lead to an avalanche of inquiry and more phone calls. “Hey Roxanne.†“Hey there sexy. How was work for you?†The overly innocent voice of Roxanne asked. “Same as before you left from the meeting. All centered around the Stock Market and the companies investements. Sounded like they were hinting at possible down sizing.†Vin answered as his small living room became the theatre stage as Steve Carrel began humiliating his all ready ruined persona with a George Forman Grill. “Well don’t let me bore you. I know you can’t take me out of your head.†Vin shook his head in annoyance. “Look Rox, is there anyway I can call you back, the—“ A shrill scream of glee erupted through hthe receiver. “Oh my GAWD! Phineus just made the cutest puppy face! You have to see this!! You should come over and see!†Vin’s head drooped against the freezer door. “Rox. I’m busy, maybe tomorrow.†His rejection fell on deaf ears as baby noises reverberated from Roxanne’s apartment seven blocks away. Vin hung up as he proceeded to dive back into his only zone of comfort: the failings of a dysfunctional mid-range paper company out of Scranton Pennsylvania. He dove deeper than he had anticipated. The hallway clock roared to life as the ceremonious bells tolled two. The T was replaced with a static vail as Vin slowly returned to the realm of the living. He gazed around to see a half consumed bowl of popcorn covering the couch. Slowly he pushed away the urge to sleep as he walked into the kitchen for a trash can. The dark kitchen remained silent as plates and cutlery eyed him stumbling into their domain. As Vin picked up the compact trash can, he froze, unsure if his ears were playing tricks on him. It came again. A slow scratching sound could be heard coming from somewhere in the recesses of the dark house. Vin shook his head assuming a storm was blowing in. However as he looked out the kitchen window, the tree branches hung silent, yet the scratching continued; fainter than before. Vin walked back into the dimly lit living room. He picked up the remote control, extinguishing the television and bathing the room in complete darkness. The scratching began to grow near the staircase. Vin lifted up his fire red Gibson X-Plorer guitar as he opened his front door slightly. Only silent night greeted him. Nothing sat or stood on his small welcome mat. A pair of headlights from down the street flashed off of the distant glass windows of the Walmart. The early morning was as silent as the grave, and this did not ease Vin’s mind. His heart began to beat louder in his ears. He stood still just inside his door, turning ever so slightly to find himself alone in his living room, clutching a three thousand dollar guitar and popcorn decorating the carpet. He shook his head, replacing the guitar sheepishly as his heart rate slowed. I need sleep, he thought as he moved to the staircase. The floorboards above his head creaked. Vin raced upstairs, grabbing ahold of the banister as he spun around too fast, ramming his knee into the railing. He swore before he could stop himself as the creaking instantly stopped. Vin’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the base of the guest room as a light bled from the other side, except for two objects blocking the door. “Hello!†Vin yelled over his rising blood pressure. His only response was a frantic tortured clawing from the other side of the door. He took another step closer, his hand hovering over the knob as the light shifted. Vin inhaled and ripped the door open. The movement started the intruder as it leapt backwards, instantly switching to angry barking. Standing on all fours against the closet door, was Phineus. Vin blinked, unsure if his mind was playing a trick on him. Phineus appeared to be contemplating the same thought as he leapt forward and pawed at Vin’s feet happily. “How…how did you get in here Phin?†Vin asked as he turned and exited the room. The dog didn’t answer as he followed Vin downstairs. Vin picked up his phone from the coffee table and dialed Roxanne. A flurry of questions raced through his mind, not the least of how is former ex had gotten a key to his house. As the phone rang, Vin moved toward his garage, believing he still had his old dogs water bowl. He didn’t notice as he began to search through his closet, that Phineus remained at the end of the hallway softly growling. The phone clicked over to her voicemail. Hi this is Roxanne, I missed you. Leave me your thoughts. BEEEP. “Roxanne, it’s Vin. I’m trying to figure out how your dog hot into my house at two a.m. I’ll try—“ Vin was cut off as the other end picked up. “Roxanne?†“Is this Vincent Ellis?†a deep controlled voice asked. Vin looked at the phone hesitantly. This wasn’t Roxanne, or anyone that Vin knew. “Who is this?’ he demanded. The voice paused. “I will ask again. Are you Vincent Ellis?†“Look, you know who I am, now I want to know who you are and why you are using Roxanne’s phone.†The line went dead as Phineus tore down the hall toward Vin. Vin turned as the garage door swung open. A bolt of pain surged through Vin as something metallic rammed down on the base of his neck. Vin crumpled to the ground as the edges of reality slowly succumbed to darkness. He felt a pinprick on his arm and a surge of liquid flooding through his veins as a cloaked figure removed a syringe from his arm, while another shadow was fighting off Phineus. The last image Vin remembered as the drugs took over his mind, was the yellow pages in his own trunk before everything went dark. Darkness. From an unknown corner of the abyss, low static pulsates from an ancient Victrola record player. The needle scratched the vinyl like a plummeting meteor. Dark orbs shimmered behind Vin’s eyelids as the throbbing pain in his neck began to over take his drug induced stupor. Rolling to his side, Vin’s head swam as his hands soared to his head, a shackle clung to his ankle. “Hello Vincent.†A voice crackled from the Victrola. Vin opened his eyes hesitantly as he recognized the voice as that of the one from the phone conversation. “I’m glad to see you are awake.†Vin scanned where he assumed the ceiling hung behind the shadows, trying to locate the faint outline of any video cameras. “There are no cameras in this room except for one strapped to your leg.†The shackle called to Vin as he bend around and pulled a leather leash towards him. Carefully he pulled, receiving the sounds of metal scraping against the cold hard concrete. “Cameras can’t lie, they can only paint an illusion of the surreal. Day in and Day out you fix cameras abused by owners, breathe in the pudgent smell of developing solution and for what? The satisfaction of knowing you’ll be able to fuel your addiction.†Vin remained silent as he picked up a blocky object. It felt foreign in the darkness, but upon grasping an opening he flipped open a handle. No, not a handle, the flash bar. He knew without a doubt that he was holding a Polaroid One-Step 600 instant camera. Nothing made sense. The record played on. “Everyday you work amongst other peoples lives in your lab, in darkness unable to live your own life. Today you have the ability to change that. Inside this camera, is an object to help you on the path of freedom. One wrong move, and your life will be illuminated by the small package of C4 connected with the camera. Time is ticking Vincent.†The record stopped as a bleeding eruption of light shattered the room as a digital clock began to slowly dissolve from five minutes. A cold silence blanketed the paranoia that slept inside Vin’s stomach. 4:55. Nothing is making any sense. 4:54. What am I doing here? 4:53. I am going to die. Vin held the camera as the secretion of sweat formed in his hands and on his face. He held the camera in his hands. The difference between this camera and a regular film camera was that this would take pictures instantly and print them from a slot beneath the lens. Gingerly, he ran his hand beneath the device as the clock continued counting down. He felt a series of three holes. Gently he pushed his pinky into each. The outside two holes held screws, while the middle was empty. He continued feeling the camera until he stumbled across two things: The Capture button. A paper clip. 3:00….2:59 Vin held the paper clip as the sudden realization hit him. The empty hole. The voice was making him choose his fate. Vin layed the options out as the sweat dripped into his eyes. On one hand, if he pushes the capture button, he could electronically trigger the C4, killing him. On the other, he could poke the paper clip through the hole, possible bridging a circuit and blowing up the camera. 2:30. “THIS IS INSANE!†Vin roared. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!†Silence responded coldly. Vin tried to recall everything that happened, and everything circled back to blacking out inside his trunk. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. Is there C4? Another variable. There would be no way of knowing unless he acted. He had no tools aside from the paperclip, and no idea in the dark room if their were any other booby traps laying in wait to snare him. 1:00 0:59 0:58 Vin closed his eyes unsure of what to do as his breathing increased and his blood pressure began to soar. He began to resign himself to an unknown fate as one single idea stormed across his mind. Take a picture. Flash. Use the flashbulb to show the room. Throw the camera. Maybe survive. 0:05 Vin rammed the paper clip into the hole at the same moment he pressed the capture button as he threw the camera with every muscle backing his power. There was no flash. The camera struck a wall less that two feet in front of Vin as his sudden discover terrified him. He rolled onto his back as the clock struck zero. Click. Vin’s eyes opened as the clock flashed zero. To his knowledge, he was still alive. He sat up as his foot brushed the camera and stopped. Something felt different. Vin hobbled to his knees and picked up the camera to find it had not split in half, but a compartment had slid open on the top. Vin’s brows furrowed as he tilted the camera. If he had had any light, he would have caught the reflection. A new pain struck Vin as something metal latched onto his forearm. Vin screamed as he clawed at the attacker then froze, as he felt a shaft sticking out from his arm. The scalpel grinned at him in the shadows. “WHAT THE F—“ “Well done Vincent.†An electronic voice emerged from inside the camera. “You have survived your first step into the new world, and now you have only one more step to take.†A single spotlight blinked to life from above the center of the room. To Vin’s amazement, it is lighting a pair of gurneys. Vin stood slowly, pulling the scalpel from his arm as he did. Blood painted a gravitational trail behind him as he slowly approached the first gurney. “Ever since you were a boy, your parents refused to let you enjoy your childhood. Instead they set you on a path of unfulfilled reality. I’m here to offer you another start. Before you are two individuals who had the game you always wanted but your family refused to let you play--†How does this guy know so much about me? “—the object to your freedom will help you uncover the key that will lead you from your prison. Choose wisely, we don’t want you fail this operation.†“No…†Vin whispered as he pulled aside the blankets covering both individuals. The longtime face of his childhood friend Alex Houchins and Roxanne stared dull eyed at the ceiling. The electronic voice ended as the cloaked man sat n an observation window a floor up, staring at the digital feed that was snaked just outside the spotlights housing. He smiled as he watched Vincent Ellis tumble down the nightmare of his past as he stood between his two lifelong friends, preparing to choose his own game of operation. “Let the games begin.â€
Moonlight crept across the cobble stone path, blistering and puncturing the canyons with sweeps of pale white light. A cold mist clung to the edges of the forest, anchored by the contorted limps of long dead Aspen Pine trees. Between the edges of the guarded path, the evening darkness stretched, clawing to take you into its care. A whisper of autumn leaves danced across the path as branches bent and cracked far off, displacing creatures deeper into the untold world within the forest. Lights twinkled mischievously from beneath the brush as a large wooden beast rumbled atop the uneven road. The eyes followed the beast, staring up in hesitation as a glowing orange fire filled the beasts body, leaking from slits along the side. The beast’s head turned, surveying the night as it tightened around its soul. The beast lurched as a cobble stone fell apart, damaging a mighty foot as those curious raced away. A long blast of shaky air left the coach driver as he dropped from the high backed drivers bench, muttering in frustration, as the wooden wheel lay splintered and dead, smashed beneath the broken axel. It was destined, he swore, that tonight of all nights the mysteries of the world would rear up to lay claim to the chaos. He tightened the coat harder, the blood draining from his hands as the cold air enveloped him. Quickly, he risked a glance into the coach, relived to see the jarring had not awakened his passenger. He added a quarter can of oil to the lamp to ensure it would not extinguish, and prepared to replace the axel. Metal clicked and scraped as the driver struggled, all the while his mind drifting into memories of a warm fire set within the heart of a seaside living area. High backed plush chairs rested as a woman hid in the shadows, a hand reaching out, slowly stroking the coals. The driver stood in the archway, coat and top hat clenched in his hands, his eyes transfixed on the fire. “They claim that you are the best Mr. Davien,†the woman spoke airily, her words sewn together in a hint of a foreign tongue. Mr. Davien smiled for the first time since entering. “I do not consider myself the best ma’am, I do however take my profession serious.†“They also stated your modesty.†“I promise nothing less than getting you to your destination.†The hand paused, considering his answer. Mr. Davien shifted on his heels, feeling that unseen eyes were stripping away his clothes and skin, penetrating his will and soul. “You would need to leave within the hour.†“I am prepared to depart now ma’am, if you are ready.†“Not me Mr. Davien, something far more valuable.†This stopped him. He held his tongue and remained silent as the details were announced, a knot tightening in his stomach, his eyes growing slowly. Once she had concluded Davien cleared his throat. “It shall be done ma’am.†A crow cawed within the trees, ripping Mr. Davien back to reality. He chastised himself for the momentary lapse of relaxation, knowing that he had to be at the destination before the morning sun awoke He continued jockeying the wheel and axel into place but froze, hearing the distant footfalls of an animal. He whirled, racing a wrench in self-defense. The path behind him was deserted save for a shaft of moonlight. The footfall’s continued, growing louder and closer. Davien strained his eyes staring at the bend in the road as a shadow materialized, bathed in the light. A horse stood on the cobblestone path, its head shaking as two bursts of air bled from the snout. A figure rode atop, all discernable details lost in the shadow. “Hello there!†Davien shouted, drawing the attention of the horse. “May I request momentary assistance?†The horse remained still, the figure reached into his overcoat, extracting a thin object that glinted in the light. He brought the object up to lip as the horse nayed. All at once, the air around Davien tightened and collided against his body. His eyes burst open in pain as he crashed to his knees, screaming air roared in his ears while a weak gurgle of air seeped from Davien’s mouth. The pain seared deeper crushing nerve endings in his back and arms. Davien smashed his eyes closed, praying the pain would pass swiftly. The pain intensified forcing his eyes open again as a stream of blood erupted from his right eye, bathing his left in a crimson veil. A pain erupted in the back of his head as suddenly all noise seized. Through the pain and blood, the horseman approached slowly, standing above Davien. The crushing air vanished, Davien’s body collapsed. The man returned the object to his vest pocket, a checkerboard of teeth smiled beneath a wide brimmed hat. “I’ll be relieving you of your burdening cargo Mr. Davien,†the voice laughed. Davien could only stare out his left eye as the burst eye continued leaking blood adding to the pool forming from his ears. He watched the man’s mouth move, unable to hear a word as the man blurred, moving toward the coach door. He tried to speak, to reach the man, but only produced a liquid gargle. He coughed, but the blood continued to fill his burst lungs. The man stared into the coach, lifting up Davien’s package. The skin glistened a pale green in the moonlight, a swatch of black hair fell from the tight blanket as the child stirred in its sleep. “We have been waiting for you, son of Frankenstein.†The man roared as Mr. Davien stared down the darkened tunnel expanding before him. The man lifted a pistol from his belt, chanting in a foreign tongue as he shifted the baby in his arm and fired. The forest echoed with the gunshot as Mr. Davien slipped into universal darkness.
