Series 1 Episode 10: Dante's Inferno
The Night Is Mine
Screen Written by Trenton
Opening Scene:
Time yet again seems to remove itself from my consciousness. It seems to pass without acknowledgment or care, incessantly destroying and creating life through its passage. Life is truly effortless if humans would only realize how swiftly life passes, but this is not in their nature. They are creatures of panic and dismay searching for a perfect harmony while simultaneously hating what that would mean, confinement. Humans know no other means by which to achieve harmony effectively unless they bind the acts of each other until life takes on a passive similarity that borders on insanity. I shall change all that. Through my acts I shall show them. I shall show them another way, the way that leads to harmony through complete and utter passion and chaos. Nero’s fiddle brought down Rome I shall build it anew. It is all in the name of my true beloved, for he wishes it.
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Act 1:
I share my first attempts at this with you now. It was a cold night and I and my compatriots had managed to become in yet another mindless confrontation with people that seemed to be of a lowly sort. They are gunslingers of the worst kind. They were people of the past and future with no concepts of abstraction and passion. They knew only their dull and pointless lives; they were to be my first subjects. As the night grew on and everyone entered into their beds ready for the sweet embrace of sleep, this was my time to enter into their lives.
Before this I had been paid little attention. I had not gotten involved very much with these petty ministers of violence and mastery. Now, I would devote my full attention to them as they slept. The first to be my beloved’s victim was a sweet child known only as “The Kid.” A sweet and cute boy he was ripe for the picking. I stood in my room allowing myself to feel the presence of all the inhabitants of the inn where everyone was staying. Each one rested in somber silence except a special few who had snuck off to others’ rooms such as Tasha who seemed to have spirited herself off to Crystal and Sylvia’s room. Consciousness drifted from me and I could feel my body being pulled free from the crass and vulgar physical existence and I felt myself enter into the stunning reality of the periphery.
The great place of dreams shifted, great nightmarish sights appeared on the horizon of the periphery, a land of Hellish creation. A place in the dream realm created from the communal nightmares of every person ever to exist, amalgamated into an unimaginable and terrifying beautiful communion. Where I stood, however, was within the sweet dreams of “Kid.” he dreamt softly of his younger days. He sat in a schoolhouse facing forward the teacher speaking softly and intently, trying to teach the 10 year old “Kid” how to do multiplication. I watched the scene transpire in it’s entirety drinking in the emotion and essence of the dream. As it came to a close and the light of the periphery became dim, I knew this to be my time to act.
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Act 2:
I lifted my hand allowing it to rest on a violin and bow that had suddenly appeared in my grasp. A gorgeous instrument in gleaming chestnut wood, the strings such a shade of ivory as to make the musicians of Venice cry out at it’s beauty. Placing the bow to the strings I took in a deep breath of the Peripheral air and then began, taking that first precious note from it and letting it glide over the dream realm. Almost immediately the dimness of the Periphery was gone and I stood upon ground again. The realm of dreams is warping itself in tempo to the gypsy’s song that I played across its surface. Sudden and random notes flitted into the song bringing into creation every flower, every tree, every cloud, and every thing within the mirage of reality. With the final note I drew it out as long as possible and then let it drift across my completed masterpiece.
It is a landscape of unparalleled beauty, if I may say so. A sun drenched field filled with every manner of wildflower in imagination, Trees which seemed to cut into the cascading sunlight creating pools of dark shade dotting the field. A gentle wind blew making the taller grass bend at its touch. With this I spotted the young “Kid.” He stood there in stunned amaze, looking from his personally tailored paradise across the seas of the Periphery on the nightmare realms in the distance. It was a communion between fantasy and nightmare, a balance only capable here.
“Do you like it?” I inquired, genuinely interested in his response.
He stood, utterly silent, much how he had been throughout the encounter within the physical reality. His face seemed to smile and frown all at once, as one tear swept from his eye down his cheek.
I moved as quickly as thought to his side brushing the tear from his face feeling that I had done something great this evening. I had inspired awe, awe which had never before been seen in this young mans life. “Oh my sweetest treasure. This is my gift to you.” I said in a hushed, barely audible whisper into his ear as he still stood surveying the beauty. Then without warning he picked me bodily from the ground and began to spin with me in his arms upraised. He smiled, a defined and perfect smile. It was a smile that only an innocent can have. It was a gorgeous sight, a sight that no normal person would ever see. With but a thought, we laid prostrate upon the soft, moss-like grass which covered the entire field’s hillside. There we lay for hours in dream time. We embraced each other and he spoke such words of inspired beauty as to make me almost cry myself. This is the passion that I needed; this is what the world needs to survive this plague of confinement and passivity. St. Evan’s church can not stand against the inspired mind. We kiss and I leave the young “Kid.” He is merely the first of many, though what a first he was.
I scanned the horizon looking for others who dwelt in the Periphery at the moment. Only one other person did, Mason. It was Mason, the immortal, whom I killed previously. It was actually my murder that turned him into such, though I’m unsure if he realizes it yet. No matter. He dwelt beyond the lands known jokingly as the Coma Kingdoms within the Periphery. Great dreamscapes created by those in perpetual sleep. Great lands filled with every manner of phantasm and creation. True workings of peripheral artistry, but then was not the time to become sidetracked into surveying the beauty of the dream realms.
Mason, a notoriously simplistic individual did not disappoint within his dreams. Here I found him within a grand palace, himself prostrated upon a lovely bed of satin and silk pillows which covered the entire floor of his self-manifested harem room, by the look of the setting. It was as though the thirty women about him were keyed into his every desire. Wine and other libations were being poured into glasses and given to this Emperor of his dreams. A fantasy of truest form, a feat that must have happened with startling regularity as the definition and specifics of this dream were quite defined. We could to better though, I was quite sure. Mason’s was not to be a contemplative and startlingly beautiful setting for him it was to be a subtle manipulation. I reached deep into his sleeping mind, made easier by the phantasmal alcohol that he had been imbibing for quite some time. I reached far into his desires. Everything he ever wished to exist within one person I pulled forth and collected. His perfect match, this is what I created. Warping the forms of the dream world around me I shifted myself into Mason’s truest desires. His main desire incarnate then approached.
A tender dance began. He swooned at his phantasm which I created. His mind was one of great fantasy truly, more vivid than the childlike visions of the “Kid.” This was an awakened mind, one not fully polluted by the mental chastity that the Church of St. Evan placed upon those of the normal populace. But his mind was one of little true imagination. Surely he can envision beauty, desire comes naturally to the lecherous, but could his mind comprehend that which I was ready to invoke. The subtle dance was underway. My petty seductions within his Periphery were easily taken his hands slowly finding ways to complete his phantasmal manifestation. This was my moment. Freely I slipped from my guise leaving the radiant vision in its place acting of its own accord, thus meaning the accord of Mason. They writhed together amongst the pillows the others of the harem forming a circle about them.
The time for beauty had come to an end, this was a mind which needed beauty to come forth from unknown areas. In the horizon I spied the expansive dreamscapes of the comatose knowing that just beyond it lay the lands of pure nightmare. At a thought the harem chamber grew dim, the vibrant symposium room growing decrepit and morose with each passing moment. The columns within the room began to crack and age, as did the walls, but the women stayed the same. It was just as beautiful as before. Though now there was a menacing quality to them. Mason peered up from his vision casting a gaze about. Scimitars jutted from the ceiling each held suspended by silken cords.
“Oh dearest Mason, death is something you shall never have, but here you shall make up for that. Here I will show you all that you need to know of death and what passion there is to the dying.” He froze, his gaze caught in mine. My nails extended each taking on the appearance of a slightly bladed needle. “Pain brings passion,” my voice was calm and soothing, I tried my best to comfort him as he attempted to maneuver to his feet. With that I nodded and the maidens of the chamber dove upon their former master each grabbing a limb and lifting him to a cushioned alter which came from nothing. I approached the alter conjuring golden shackles to restrain him in his palace of decadence. With Mason thoroughly in place I made the first incisions. Slowly, I drew my needle nails across his perfect skin. Ancient runes I drew out upon it, basking in the radiance that each one brought to his form.
Blood seeped from these petty wounds causing him to flinch in pain as I continued. In this place of grace and beauty all things are possible. This was the lesson that I was to teach him. “Mason, my lovely, pain is but a figment of the mind and all things are but a matter of perspective in life. You as an immortal must learn this lesson first. Wounds of the flesh no longer matter to your body and thus they should not matter to your mind.” Again I thought and the world shifted its reality. I slashed his thigh, deep, causing blood to spurt violently forth from the wound. But no scream issued from the Mason’s lips. No, this was my gift. A cry of ecstasy instead emitted from his lips. “Pain is pleasure in my hands, if pain in your mind can become pleasure, why not within your waking life? Mason, listen to what I’m saying.”
Mason’s eyes lolled about in his head a bit as he tried to recover from the sudden surge of ecstatic passion that shook his body. He began again to cry out with awe and ecstasy as I continued to pass my nails over his flesh creating intricate patters about his body. Blood now covered most of his body and has seeped into the pillows with which he lay, writhing again, much the same way he had done just moments ago with his envisioned fantasy. “Lovely Mason knows what life is, know what death is, and know that nothing is anything without inspiration. The body inspires the mind, just as the mind inspires the body. To master this is to master the world. Feel the violent ecstasy of the dying now and know that you will never feel the full weight of the pleasure I could give you.” With this I drove deep my nails into his body flaying his chest outwards in a great conflagration of blood and viscera. In a sudden and violent warping of the setting, his mind fell away and all was an impression of pleasure and pain in a complete and comprehensible essence. I gazed into what seemed to be a sun exploding forth from Mason’s body. The sun burned with pure ecstasy and awe. His dreams shook so violently that I saw the great towers, which lie in the distance, shake with the force. With that I was thrust back into the real world, my feet planted upon firm matter my body fully materialized within the physical. In the distance I heard the distant screams of Mason, a combination of terror and pleasure, a scream which filled my soul with such reverberations as to send a wave of passion shaking through my body causing me to collapse upon the floor in utter despair and joyfulness. I had not expected such a thing to happen. I feel as though I am changed in some way. I’ve seen the soul swell; I have seen what no other human has ever seen. It is mine and only mine.
The day passes again and I see that I have raised some suspicion against Mason due to his sudden outcry last night. It seems that as I lay upon the floor writhing in ecstatic revelry, Mason had let out a cry of ecstatic pain in the dream world but also in the waking. According to Tasha, who has now become my greatest confidant due to our similarity of position, Mason’s cry awoke the whole inn causing herself as well as Sylvia and Crystal to go to Mason’s room to see what was going on. They came upon him in his room drenched in sweat breathing heavily his eyes wide open looking into space with a vacant expression on his face. This is of course quite a revelation to me as I was unaware I was able to affect so viscerally the waking world with my art in the Periphery.
I have yet to tell Tasha of everything that transpired with regards to Mason, I think that I will allow her to see it first hand. The “Kid,” I see, is affecting his consciousness as well. I was down in the bar this morning taking in the rising sun in all it’s wondrous beauty when “Kid” came down from his room. He cast a quick glance over to me, then away just as quickly. A look of embarrassment and shame seemed to have come over him due to his dream the previous evening. I called for him to join me at my table with a graceful gesture at the chair beside me. He shifted uncomfortably in his skin as though wishing to both approach as well as run. This was the confusion that bred from inspiration. He was sure of himself within his dreams but here he was still uncertain of his actions. This is something that I would have to work upon.
To help him make up his mind I shifted slightly in my seat allowing my natural talents of seduction to snake its way into his mind, causing vivid memories of last evenings dream to come flooding into his mind. Images of him as he lay with me upon the perfect, sun drenched meadow our bodies intertwined. He obeyed the will of his mind and sat down. Shortly afterwards, a large plate of breakfast was delivered to the young man. Then the bartender returned to the bar and cleaned the glasses. “Kid” dug in hungrily. As he ate I pulled another cup from across the table and poured him a cup of tea with as much grace and control as I could muster, which did catch the attention of the young boy (So strange that I keep referring to him as young as he is the same ages as I). I smiled again allowing visions to dance in his head, so much so that it seemed to be taking him to the point of distraction as a piece of egg slipped off his fork and into his lap. I stood up and walked over to the window in which to get a better look at the sun as it rose in the sky. I then turned spying a piano not far from the table I had just been sitting at and at once was filled with the need to play, and I was happy to obey this urge.
Sitting down I placed my fingers on the keys causing the entire thing to practically light up at the sound of the music that I created. It was sharp, emotion-filled notes, each one telling a story that can not be described with word. At first the song started out slow moving in a somber tone, each note casting a harsh sadness into the air. A tear moved down my cheek at the sound of my own music, the notes flowing from me with almost no source or reason, but they came together in a hauntingly beautiful funeral dirge. The song told of tragedy this day. Someone would loose their life. Slowly the song faded throughout the room, leaving it in utter silence. That is until the bartender finally lost grip of the glass which he had been cleaning causing it to shatter on the floor with a crash. I could see a tear falling from the bartender’s eye as well. I looked to “Kid,” a slightly worried expression crossing my features. It had not been my intention to do such a mournful and somber song, but yet the fates inspired me to perform such. “Kid” was sitting in his chair his face downcast looking into his lap, a look of intense contemplation came across his features.
I rose quickly from the piano and moved from the room to return to my chambers. As I reached the door I felt a hand grab my arm whipping me around and pinning me to the wall. “Kid” stood there his arms pinning my shoulders a look of utter devastation crossed his face, almost causing him to look even more innocent than he was.
“Where did you learn to do that?” He cried out a demand half sob.
I placed my hand gently upon his hands bringing them off my shoulders cupping them delicately in my hands. I looked around to see if anyone had been disturbed, but they hadn’t. I opened the door to my room, entered, and took the grieving “Kid” into my room. I set him on the bed and grabbed a linen cloth from the bathroom. He wiped the tears from his face; he then looked at me from his seated position.
“I don’t understand?” he said in an exasperated tone.
“I know you don’t,” I whispered stroking his hair from his face. Slowly I moved him backwards to a laying position, “You need to rest, you’ve been over stimulated as of late and you need to relax.”
“I can’t relax I’ve got a match today.” I stood up in sudden alarm.
“What match?”
“We’re holding a tournament today and tomorrow. I’m set to go against that Mason fellow today.” I looked around suddenly frantic. I wasn’t quite sure what caused me to react as such only that something inside of me just didn’t like what was going on.
“Are you alright,” he said to me gently, a shift in his voice that seemed to come from nowhere. It had happened. He had moved from thinking of me as an outsider to thinking of me as an individual. Sudden thoughts flooded my mind. I had, in one encounter made this boy care about my well being. In just two performances I had him exactly where I needed him, and with that I turned to him letting those same innate seductions take their course arising emotions within him, that no doubt confused and terrified his sensibility. I remember closing the door and then all became a haze of ecstasy and divinity.
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Act 3:
Later that day the contestants and I gathered outside to witness the first round of duels. True to the word of my “Kid” he was set to go against Mason. After our last encounter Mason kept eyeing me with a suspicious squint in his eyes as though attempting to scrutinize my thoughts. I smiled from beneath my black umbrella, blocking the harsh rays of the sun that fell upon the square. Kid, looked rather agitated; however, he kept stamping his feet and shaking his head. It would seem that our encounter just an hour ago had left him both uneasy and bewildered. I smiled at Mason, who quickly looked away with a determined and focused look in his eyes.
Both combatants took their positions and then began the stare down. Each stood in stark silence, neither making a move, until Kid’s eyes shifted from Mason to me as I smiled at him. Mason took the chance and hurled himself forward holding his sword in a wonderful posture. However, as he looked to his opponent his eyes too trailed off to mine. Both moved past one another and than the real battle began. Kid and Mason entered melee with weapons brandished with wonderful skill. However, it was only a matter of time before Kid’s agitation got the better of him and he lost focus allowing Mason to strike the one stroke needed drawing blood across Kid’s torso. The dual was over and Mason had won.
The rest of the combatants squared off for the day, each of them doing as best as possible. Our troupe seemed to make quite the showing as not a single one lost their duels. But such discussion I will not go into further. The true happenings took place again in the evening, as each person removed themselves from consciousness and slipped humbly into my domain. I again removed myself to my room and then from the world in it’s entirety. A familiar sensation passed over me as I again became more ephemeral in make and less bound by the harshness of the physical. I cast my gaze around to gain my bearings, but nothing was to be seen, save one man.
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Finale:
An old man, a man I knew to be Tamiki, who had competed in the days tournament sat within the center of this endless space. He held his eyes closed and his hands rested upon his folded legs. It was a perfect position for meditation.
“What is this place?” I asked to no one in particular, however, the man’s voice uttered a response.
“This is my mind, and the mind of every other thing in existence. Yes, this is the mind of the tree, the rock, the wind, the water, the life in every person, even yours.” Tamiki’s eyes opened and he stood in a quick fluid motion as though to move any more crassly within this place would send ripples. There was solidity here, but it was not like that of the world. Here it was an all encompassing and enclosing dankness. A void of all things, save tiny pin pricks of light which dotted the blackness, like tiny stars in the sky.
“You are quite right. It is a void. It is The Void. The all, the nothing that which exists in a state of absolute inclusion of opposites, but you cannot stay here. You must leave or danger will follow you. I shall take you to the realm you are familiar with.” With that I felt his hand cross my eyes and close them then moving them from them allowing my eyes to reopen. I was back upon my perfect meadow, the ephemeral sun cascading down in waves upon its perfect wild flowers.
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That's it, we are done. Hopefully this will not be the final series!