Dust In The Wind
"Get away from me!" said Blaze. Before he could say another word, he lifted his eyes and saw the insect-like alien goggling down at him, looking almost sad, or at least as sad as any bestial monster can get without appearing menacing, which was nearly impossible.
The creature stood six feet seven inches tall. It was bony and somewhat fragile looking. Thought its entire frame was hidden under the baggy hooded robe, it could not conceal its emaciated features.
Blaze compared himself with the alien and knew that he could take it on. Its face was hidden entirely within the darkness of the hood. He had only to be careful of its razor sharp claws. They were probably poisonous. Again, he tried to see within the hood, but could see nothing but darkness where the face should have been and two crimson dots that sparkled with venomous intelligence.
"Ah, you make me mad, aye? Don’t try to run that pity game on me. Though I see not your grotesque face, that contemptuous click-cricketing language sounds condescendingly deceptive and fake. Ha! I’m not mad. Would a madman know how to spiritually leave the shell of his body at will while ignoring the rigors of the torturous devices you lay upon me?
"Ha! Would a madman help another soul from another dimension? Mad men know nothing. But I know many secrets. Secrets from both heaven and hell!"
Blaze paused tiredly for a second, turning his back to the alien and looking out the barred window at the Earth-appearing landscape. Looking at the dark star-filled night, he saw nothing. Blaze spoke again.
"The human being is like a plant that is dependent upon the light for physical and mental growth. Though there are many who, like myself, are grown in the shade, we are nonetheless dependent upon the sun’s rays.
"Only a fool would deny this! Like a plant that grows in the shade, its growth becomes stunted, retarded and it desperately begins to turn, bend and stretch awkwardly toward the much-needed rays of the sun.
"However, unfortunately for both plant and man, there are times when artificial barriers endlessly conceived by malignant minds, become overwhelmingly destructive, thus terminating the growth and causing both plant and man to whither away and die."
Blaze paused, allowing his words to sink in and take form within the alien’s strange mind. Somehow, the alien, Blaze noticed, was speaking English. He had broken the uncomfortable silence.
"But, I . . . I have mastered life," Blaze said. "I have devised a way to overcome your cunning manipulations of mind contact. Now, be gone. I must reach out to a young boy that needs my help."
The blue-robed alien watched Blaze’s back curiously, intrigued by his words. "Who is this young boy?" blue asked.
"He does not concern you," shouted Blaze. Spinning to face the alien, Blaze was protective of his secret. Before more could be said, the ringing on an alien communication device interrupted them.
Dismayed by the intrusion, blue trudged away, perturbed at the patient’s words. He bolted the chamber door and answered the phone.
* * * *
Alone once again, Blaze stood at the barred window facing the star-filled night but seeing nothing. He was retreating into himself, traveling the expansive void of space to the other realm. He knew for some strange reason that the boy needed his help. Within seconds, he astral projected his mind and soul through the vast distances of time and space.
Blaze was too late! He tried to save the boy by telepathically screaming, to no avail. Mysteriously, he could no longer enter the boy’s mind. Somehow, the monsters had inserted some sort of force field barrier, which prevented him from entering the boy’s mind as well as imprisoned his soul in an opaque cube. Blaze was trapped. He could not even return to his own realm.
* * * *
In the boy’s reality, it was twelve midnight. He and his friends were gathered in front of a tall red-bricked building, laughing and talking.
Blaze could see the scene slowly unfold, but was powerless to help. Three other teenagers accosted the first group of youngsters. They entered into a heated quarrel, a gun was pulled out, and the boy was shot twice in the chest at point-blank range.
Blaze watched in horror as the boy crumbled to the ground, seeing all these events from his pitch-black prison in warped space. He was unable to do anything but agonize and sadly watch as everyone fled from the scene.
The lamenting pain Blaze felt at the moment was overwhelming as if he had lost a part of his soul. He had watched and helped the boy grow, to achieve the highest scores in school, and to excel in all sports. He had witnessed the boy perform exceptionally well in his martial arts classes and become a remarkably bright young man, to be a good and decent person and now he watched in anguish as the boy lay in the dark red puddle of his own blood.
* * * *
"It has been two days now, sir, and the patient as of yet has not come out of his coma. He’s been defecating and urinating on himself. Our nurses have been cleaning him up."
"What caused it?" barked the brown-clad figure, sternly staring intently at blue.
"I, uh, I don’t know," stammered Blue nervously, shaking his head and wondering if the conversation he and the patient had two days ago had anything to do with this alarming withdrawal.
"Sir?" interrupted the psyche in the green suit hesitantly. "The patient’s mother and attorney have come to visit him. What should we tell them?"
"Tell them the damned truth!" snapped Brown irritably. He stormed out of the room in frustration.
* * * *
At the front desk, the visitor’s reception area for the correctional institution, the psychiatrist spoke to the patient’s mother and attorney in brisk professional psychobabble.
"Mrs. Garcia, you son has become dangerous schizophrenic. At the present, he has waded into a long-term reclusive catatonic state, bordering on a coma. Apparently, he is not fit for visitors. Only the head physician and superintendent can approve a visit and I doubt very much the will waver from this legitimate medical determination."
The psychiatrist watched as the patient’s mother wept. He felt growing sympathy for her, but he had no control over institutional rules. He gave the woman a few minutes to compose herself.
"We believe," he continued, "that his past drug history and substance abuse is now affecting his brain in ways that we have not as yet figured out. He’s been having acute visions of his childhood and the things he suffered as a child, and has even depersonalized himself. He has lost control of the ability to distinguish the difference between his past and present. In other words, he has disassociated himself with his childhood and he thinks that his past and present are two different individuals.
"Even his hallucinations have become worse. He honestly believes that everyone who speaks to him is an insect-like alien from another world. Also, he believes that they are holding him captive and he has supernatural powers in space travel through the means of astral projection. He even believes that he goes into another realm to help a child."
"Enough! Enough!" wailed the aggrieved lady, pulling on her hair, unable to endure any more of this confusing scientific jargon. "You are all responsible for this madness. My son was not like this before! He’s always been strong, intelligent and capable. You monsters have been experimenting on my son with all that prolonged isolation crap.
"Before you locked him away in solitary confinement for nothing, he was well and happy, but gradually his letters became sloppy and incoherent? What have you bastards done to my son?"
The frantic lady screamed over and over again at the shocked doctor. She assaulted him angrily with a wild barrage of disparaging Spanish words.
"Hijos de la gran putas-desgraciados," she shouted and continued to rave uncontrollably while making what the doctor thought were witchcraft signs with her gesticulating hands.
"Don’t worry, Mrs. Garcia," said the attorney restraining the mortified lady before she could lunge upon the abashed doctor. "Don’t worry, we’ll get him out of solitary confinement and have his present condition looked into." The attorney slowly guided the crying woman out of the visiting area. He patted her consolingly on the back, whispering words of encouragement.
* * * *
Upstairs in the silver chamber made of an unknown alien ore, Blaze’s body lay motionless. He was clad only in his black and gold robe. These were the only colors he knew he could wear that would save his soul and allow it to carry on.
His grim face remained expressionless. His once healthy skin was now a clammy death-pale white. His eyes were open, but the horrors he saw were not of this world. He gazed unblinkingly at himself. He was trapped in a pitch-black cube, suspended upon nothingness, and the cube was slowly closing in on him. This black cube lay in the middle of the infinite nowhere. Caught between space and time, caught in the warped fabric of dream and reality within the wrinkle of the mind, Blaze tried desperately to scream in terror, but he could not!
* * * *
This is the end of part three of "Reduced Environmental Stimulation." This excerpt was called, for convenience, Dust in the Wind, a beautiful song of long ago.
In the next part of this story, you will be taken on a mental trip to a fantastic land of mind travelers called "The No-Zone People."
You will witness how a bold and daring heroine by the name of Geralyn from No-Zone rescues Blaze from the shrinking grasp of the black cube.
Blaze is given a choice, once rescued by the remarkable Geralyn of No-Zone. He can either go back to his time and world of flesh or remain in the lands of No-Zone forever. But, before he could make a choice, he and Geralyn find themselves fighting for their lives against the evil tentacles of a conquering race of mind-eaters.
Blaze has a short time to decide if he wants to go back to where he came from or to stay. Otherwise, the doors to the realm of No-Zone will close forever. Will he abandon his heroine or ruin his only chance to return home?
Find out what happens next in my "Reduced Environmental Stimulation" excerpt called "People of No-Zone."
God bless you!
Jose Blaze Cruz
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