A Living Purity
by Nick Karpuk
"I am abusing the inner realm of your mind. You cannot destroy me, for I am indefinable. You can not defeat me, for I am merely a personification, a portal into untold realms, and I am within you, and I will destroy all. You will do as a bid, for I understand the level of self preservation that you have. We have great work to do, so please, don't disrupt my artistic endeavors of destruction. Does this all seem cryptic? Im sure it does, but you will learn in time. Come, you need sleep, turn off the screen, go upstairs, and rest."
"I honestly can say now that I have never felt more scared in my life. I just typed that entire paragraph onto my computer, and I played no part in the event. Seems as if that whole ranting, demented little monologue just typed itself. Im scared to think about what it means. Oh God, what the hell is happening?" Jason spoke aloud into the solemn quiet of his own basement, scared even farther by the lack of response.
He could hear the strange humming noise buried beneath the electrical whirl of the computers engine. A humming that becomes a shriek in a quiet room. A noise that twisted his childhood, and crippled his life. Strangely enough, he could not become accustomed to the sound, even at the age of 17, the blaring cacophony still reduced him to tears.
In his realization that he was standing stiffly, half clothed, in a cat-like position of awareness, Jason began to cry. He couldn't fall here, he wouldn't be able to sleep here anyway. He ran up the stairs into the living room, noticing the calm evening had transcended into a dark humid night, the windows open and receptive to the breeze the light rain gave the wind outside. As he entered the living room, he noticed, through the open window, the house directly across the street. A place filled with normal inhabitants, who slept through a peaceful night accompanied only by the faint noise of droplets pattering onto the well constructed roof. To others, a home was a sanctuary, the one totally secure place in the sphere of there world. To Jason, the home was a cave, for all places felt equally uncomfortable, and no structure could hide him from the noise.
He shook away the delirium that had kept him captivated in the scene, and stumbled up the stairs. Entering his room at the far end of the hall, he quietly closed the door and marched directly to the stereo. He flipped on the radio, not caring what was playing, the interchanging and melodic rhythms could disguise the tormenting sound which he had recently begun to have dark suspicions. The few times he had let the music stop, he had had dreams. Since he had no hobbies, and little interest in the outside stimuli of the world, these nightmares always consisted of metaphors for the screeching noise, always visuals somehow moving in synch with the noise that was unbearable from a totally internal perspective. Jason slid under his covers, and quickly fell into an uncomfortable sleep.
Unbeknownst to Jason, a short lived black-out occurred shortly after he dozed off, and the stereo was silenced, leaving a soundless void that most would find peaceful. Unfortunately, in another realm, matters were far from tranquil.
*********
The darkness scattered as if carried by wings, revealing a small space of grayish pavement, the focal point, a dirty and well worn manhole, appearing seemingly straight through the concrete. Jason watched helplessly as this cover was brought to his full attention, not a bit of blurring mental ambiguity disguising its form. The corner of the lid began to rise, and a small trail of blinding white light shot out into the darkness. The beam attacked the darkness, and ignited the ponderous black matter, evaporating the thick ebony substance, forcing it to pull backwards away from the offending portal.
Jason wished with all his heart that this image would blur, that the inevitable horror would be vanquished before the climax of its birth. And most of all, he wished that the humming, which had risen to an unbearable screech, would be silenced.
No such wish was fulfilled, and the scene continued. As the black wave retreated, small creatures were exposed, chattering little demons, every inch of their strange hides coated in the dark matter. Upon realizing their peril, the began to howl, scampering around into a orderly formation, one that came closer and closer the manhole. When they were within a mere inch of the opening, the first laid the path of instigation and thrust his body onto the covering, heaving with all his power to rip the metal plate from its surroundings. The catalytic efforts of the first gave all others precise orders. They all grabbed a section of the edge, and all began to pull upward. The lid began to creak, rising slowly, the light intensity increasing with the volume of its freedom. The power of the light burned black tar from their hides, showing the full power of their exertion, the strong muscles heaving under their harsh, red hides.
The lid was nearly standing vertical, light scattering in every direction, weaving chaotic patterns along the pavement. Jason wanted to scream, to make the demons cease there destructive endeavors. They were in his mind, and they were tampering with something that was already hurting him with a painful severity. But he could only watch as the covering that had protected him for so long fell to the ground with a resounding clang.
The light realized that emancipation was at hand, and with the dull thud the light surged upwards, and began to eat away at the protective darkness. Jason was witnessing the beginning of his own demise, he was watching this force slowly tear his mind apart.
He awoke with heavy sense of panic, sweat soaking his sheets. Panic and rage flared up so quickly he spun around, and drove his fists into the wall with such power that he could feel bones in his finger snapping. He paused for a moment, quietly contemplating the result of his anger, momentarily unaware of his greater plight. With a remembrance of his pains instigation, anger returned, and he viciously ripped his hand out from the dry wall, ripping skin among the already broken fingers.
No one had been startled enough to wake, he couldn't hear the shuffling of feet in any of the nearby rooms. He felt slightly dizzy from the bleeding, so he stumbled to the medicine cabinet where he retrieved a large amount bandages, and some toothpicks to splint his fingers. It was a long and excruciating job, and the humming in his head was becoming unbearable. He sped through the repair job at a hazardous pace, recklessly pushing the small bones in his finger into place. The job was completed in thirty minutes.
As the rested his hand, Jason noticed the clock, and realized it had been reset. The power had gone out, the music had stopped and let this all happen. Anger once more flared up, but he was quickly grounded back into a calmer state by the save pain that recoiled through his body when he clenched his injured fist.
He turned on the stereo, turned up the volume as high as it would go, and went back to bed. But the music could no longer overcome the humming, and he slept little that night.
**********
He was seen little by the rest of his family the next few days. He always woke early and fled the house quickly, hoping no one would notice his mutilated hand. It had become a hobby of sorts for Jason to travel along the back areas of his neighborhood, seeking out the unusual audible effects that graced common events. The feeling that each noise gave, and the mixture they added to his antagonizing humming awakened so many emotions. The trickle of a small stream would make him ecstatic, the chirping of certain birds often reduced him to tears. It was almost like the sound was woven through him, tuning his whole body to the less explicit world of sound. Music was purely survival, this could bring joy.
And wherever he went, he now wore sun glasses. Since the day of the nightmare, his eyes had developed a bizarre grayish tint, and they were becoming whiter with each passing day. There had always been a theory lying in the back of his mind, one that might explain it all, but when ever he brought it to full intention, the humming would subdue him, and he had become very acquiescent in surrendering to this impulse, but sometimes he regretted his inability to ponder the topic.
Several days past without severe incident, but one day Jason stayed home, mostly because of a poor night sleep. He was lounging in his bed, not fully relaxed, for the sound was an everlasting thorn in his side, and comfort was a rare commodity in his world.
He had pulled himself up to a sitting position when Mrs. Richmond, his mother, opened the door.
"Are you feeling OK honey?" she inquired, moving a few paces into the small and unadorned room as she spoke.
"Im fine."
There had never been a great deal of trust between Jason and his family. Trust requires comfort, and he had been given little in this life. They had always been concerned by his moody, silent nature.
"You've been acting so much stranger lately, and I was thinking it might be the pills youve been taking, the pain relievers we got."
"Why would that be doing?"
"Well?" and she paused, trying to force out something that was obviously clenched by guilt. "The pills were mind altering, psychological drugs."
"What!?"
"Im sorry, we wanted to tell you, but we didn't think youd take it, and we could handle you like youve been the last few years. We thought it would help."
Jason leaped off the bad, his face entrenched in unfiltered rage.
"God damn it Mom, do you think Im insane!? Im not a psychopath!"
"Im sorry, we just wanted our son back!" She was now on the verge of tears, turning her head back in forth in a near state of panic. Then her eyes locked onto his damaged left hand.
"What did you do to your arm?"
Jason quickly pulled back, shocked and annoyed with himself that he had exposed the injury.
"Your hurt, why didn't you tell us?"
"Get the hell away from me!" He shook backwards violently, the glasses sliding down to the very tip of his nose. His mother approached trying to help him up. Then she looked into his faded white eyes, and her grip loosened, dropping Jason back to the floor. She tumbled down beside him, and began to quietly whisper incomprehensible words. As Jason regained his footing, he heard the sound of feet charging up the stairs. His father was quickly in the room, holding his mothers hand. He looked up to Jason with a questioning look. Jason was speechless, and could only shrug, which angered his father deeply.
Jasons sister, Chrissy was in the room a moment later, gasping as she passed through the threshold. Their father began to shout commands at the girl, and she raised out of the room to call the ambulance. Within five minutes the entire family was off to the hospital.
**********
They all sat solemnly next to the bed, there eyes never leaving her, except to give a scolding glance to Jason, who was sitting on the opposite end of the hospital bed. Mrs. Richmond had suffered a heart attack, but no one could explain what had thrown her into the coma.
Jason could no longer stand the contemptful stares, so he left the room, content to wander the halls interpreting the various sounds that emanated from the multitude of complex devices within the large hospital. This grew tired, and the guilt he now felt was excruciating.
He decided then to leave. He rushed to the foyer on the bottom floor, and into the cold night.
Swirling and puzzling images clouded his thoughts, obstructing any real concentration. He was being buried in the weight of confusion, on the verge of hysteria, and the obtrusive noise in the back of his head was now as loud as a fire alarm.
Then he remember that Jack was throwing a party tonight. The blast of a speaker would dampen the ringing in his ears. He looked out, trying to discern his location through the dense rain, then ran off to his friends house.
**********
Jason sat in the trash littered room, his ear planted directly in front of the speaker, not caring what musical choice was made so long as it was at the highest decibel point possible. He was in deep concentration when he was rudely bumped by someone who was running to the kitchen at a hazardous speed. By the point Jason grip on sanity was weak, the alchohol having mangled his fragile sense of composure.
The guy couldn't even get in an apology before Jason attacked him. He slammed the poor young man to the ground, beating him ruthlessly with his one good hand, kneeling over him so as to gain a better attack position. He was angry beyond belief that this fool had let the mindless humming come back to the foremost position in his brain. In his fury he didn't notice that his prey had stopped moving. The boy was perfectly still, muttering under his breath, looking directly into Jasons eyes. Upon noticing this, Jason stopped. He was thrown completely off guard by flaccid immobility that his assailing had caused. The boys eyes dilated, and Jason could feel the heaving of the chest beneath him slow. He felt the exact moment when his nameless victim passed away.
He stood up, oblivious to the people in the room, who were all frantically trying to avoid direct eye contact with him.
He walked out the front door, then crouched by the side of the house. Nothing was quieting the screech anymore, so he might as well solidify a rationalization for his predicament. He was dying from infinite.
Some misguided quadrant of his brain had disobeyed him, instigated by the mind altering chemicals that his foolish parents had been feeding him. He pitied his parents, for they would never understand that they had opened something beyond the comprehension of any sane human being.
It was slowly killing him, and it destroys all who see it. No mind can handle the borderless sum of all reality. Seeing all time and space in the span of a half-second destroys any soul, for the mind was never meant to grasp the concept. The dream made sense now, the white flowing light was his killer.
He was fascinated by the discovery that he didn't notice the sirens. In a few moments, the police grabbed him by the armpits, and hoisted him into the car.
***********
He lay in his cell, the misguided coil within his mind was now destroyed, swallowed by the creature it had summoned. He was dying, his brain being corroded from within. He was becoming delirious. In desperation he clawed his way over to the other bed, shook the resident thoroughly until the elderly drunk awoke. One stare into Jasons eye, and the man collapsed onto his bed.
Jason was damned, and the last moments of his life he would spend alone. Maybe he could end it now. He had the power to kill after all. He stumbled up to the mirror, and after a moment of reluctance, gazed into his own eyes. He could see the pure white energy careening through the hollow membranes of his eyes, and looking deeper, he saw all the world, the universe, and the cataclysmic forces of the cosmos.
But too much of his mind was gone to be shocked by this. He screamed in frustration, his last plan had failed.
He fell to the ground twisting in agony, the sound in his head now audible to others, waking up the prisoners of neighboring cells. The guards rushed to his aid, but by the time the cell door was opened, his scream was fading, and within a minute, most of his head was corroded into non-existence by the rays of infinite. 2 guards and 4 prisoners who witnessed the act died of complications relating to severe heart attacks, and 4 others never fully regained sanity. But for once Jason could peacefully, and so the objective viewer could safely assume that he had fulfilled his dream.