[ A hacker, haunted by spirit scenes from another world, claims to have found a way to leak his visions into that world's 'internet', which is actually this world's internet — he explained all this to me in our little chat. He asks only that we release his logs freely into our 'Public Domain'. And that we send more photos. ]
The left-to-right colour pattern falters, a darkness rippling under it from end to end.
A shadowy figure says, "Ready?"
A hollow voice says, "By all means."
The figure switches on a brass lantern.
Window on Pit
At a low window overlooking a huge pit. A floor is indistinctly visible below. Traces of white mist cover the floor of the pit, becoming thicker to the right. Directly across the pit there is a similar window looking into a lighted room. A shadowy figure can be seen there, peering back.
A wisp of white light streaks rapidly up and down and around the circumference of the pit wall. Its fading trails cohere into a kind of wrap-around panorama.
The figure ignites half a spike of dwarven foxglove with a book of matches.
Again the light flickers, weakens, overpowered now by a sombre glow from below, where the mists of the pit's interior have swollen almost to the window's ledge.
The figure takes a drag off the burning spike of dwarven foxglove and disposes of the butt.
The mists bifurcate and swirl into a pair of ghostly figures...
Ghost One bears occult marks, on her nose and on her chin.
Ghost Two sports similar marks over his nose and forehead.
Ghost One seems a little creeped out by Ghost Two.
One says, "Why the fuck are you wearing that?"
Two says, "Why the fuck'm I wearin what?"
One says, "Tape. You've got tape on your head."
Two says, "Yer one to talk. Look atcha!"
One says, "No. My tape is on my chin. Your tape is on your head."
Two says, "So?"
One says, "So, last time I looked, a chin isn't a forehead. If you're trying to make me... I dunno WHAT you're trying to—"
Two says, "I'm not tryin—"
One says, "WhatEVER you're after—"
Two says, "I'm not after nothin. It's just..."
One says, "Just what? WHAT!"
Two has to stoke his courage for a moment, to carry on.
Two says, "Why d'you wear tape on your head?"
One says, "I told you. It's on my chin."
Two says, "On your chin then why d'you wear it on your chin?"
One says, "Maybe I cut myself."
Two says, "Yeah? Well, maybe I did, too. Maybe I cut myself shaving! How bout you?"
One says, "You shave your nose?"
Two says, "Uh... no."
One says, "That's crazy talk... Who shaves their nose?"
Two says, "I... din't mean that."
One says, "What the hell do you mean?"
Two says, "...I dunno, sorry! It's just... don't you ever wonder about stuff?"
One hesitates.
One says, "What kind of stuff?"
One sucks at a bottle's lip, swallowing some potent, ghostly elixir.
Two just watches her drink, taking a breather, as from a round of fisticuffs.
Two says, "Say... I come in here twice a week, and I look at stuff, just everyday stuff. Like, how come there's candles on all these tables here but not this table here?"
One says, "Fucked if I know."
Two says, "And don't you ever, like, think, who took these pictures on the wall? Why'd they take those pictures? Just exactly those pictures. Not some other pictures. They coulda taken pictures of anything."
Rather abruptly, Two runs out of steam with One still in mid-second-slurp, opening an eerie pause in the conversation.
One says (finally), "But they didn't."
Two says, "Yeah, see? Swhat I mean, I think about that shit sometimes, and it just gets to me."
One says, "But they didn't take pictures of other stuff. They took pictures of that stuff. And that's why they're up there. On the wall. Easy, see?"
Two says, "But... that's it! It's just too easy. I walk around, and I never ask. And it just piles up n up, more n more mystery, and... I bet I couldn't even get an answer if I tried, cuz nobody's ever asked. We all just walk around lookin at stuff. But does anybody really know anything?"
One says, "Let's get J, maybe he knows. Hey, J!"
Two says, "No no it's ok it's just an example."
One says, "If he knows he'll tell me. I know J."
Two says, "Nah, I'm just tryin to explain why, when I come in here and see you with... with that. And I'm thinkin, Frank, for once, for once in your fuckin life, don't go home not askin. But I wasn't sure if... I mean what if it was some kinda... well I just couldn't spit it out. So, I uh..."
One crooks a ghost-finger at Two's forehead.
One says, "So you did that?"
Two says, "Yeah. I know, it's dumb, and I got it wrong n all."
One says, "Well. Here's to overcoming your personal issues."
One raises her bottle, mist trailing off the top as from a witch's brew.
Two says, "Uh, cheers."
Two joins it with his own. They share an awkward quaff, and lower their arms, and then dissolve away into the mist.
A shadowy figure says, "No! Come on… what is it with this mist?"
A hollow voice says, "How do you know that's not the end?"
The figure says, "What do you mean, the end?"
The voice says, "Concluded. A phenomenon ceased to be."
The figure says, "You keep talking about endings. Like you would for a story."
The voice says, "Ah. Is it a story or is it life?"
The figure says, "Exactly."
The voice pauses, possibly in contemplation.
The voice says, "Life is a story."
The figure says, "Hm, yeah...?"
The voice says nothing.
The figure says, "I suppose when one is aware that every moment of one's awareness could be the last, it does tend to exert a narrative pull on things..."
The brass lantern is getting dim.
The figure says, "Well. You've been sufficiently weird and cryptic for one set of batteries, don't you think?"
The voice says nothing.
The figure says, "Yeah OK."
The figure waves.
[ The hollow voice previously mentioned endings in the 1st haunting of a shadowy figure. —PLQ. ]
I waive all copyright and related or neighbouring rights to the text of this post and hereby release it into the Public Domain.
- Previous haunting of a shadowy figure
- Next chronological appearance of a shadowy figure
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