Supernatural Catalogue

UNIVERSAL MALFUNCTION

If something or somebody is dead, they are dead. There isn't a need to tamper with life and death. Never has been. Cheating death has come with its fair share of consequences. Nobody has ever dared to do such a thing except for one person living within a small county.

They had parents. Keyword is had. Their parents had died to entities that have been plaguing the county for as long as they can remember. Alternates is what they called them. They didn't know the true name for these things... if they even had any. All that really mattered to this individual is that their parents died to them. Something they have had to live with for quite a while.

They decided they didn't want to live with it anymore. They decided they wanted their parents back with them instead of having to deal with the alternate versions of them. They knew that they'd turn on them eventually so they escaped from the house. This individual had escaped from their room and ran out into the street, hoping that the alternates did not spot them.

There was one piece of family left that had not been turned into some alternate. A piece of family that they would be able to trust. Their aunt. Their aunt had immediately taken them under her wing and cared for them. They were sitting in the spare bedroom that she let them have, skimming through a book they had found somewhere in the library downtown. The book was in a language they weren't exactly fluent in. Their brain was hurting merely by looking at the page.

A knock on their door had made them jump a bit and close the book as fast as they could. They placed the book down on the floor and made their way towards the door. "Aryn?" The voice of their aunt spoke behind the door. "Dinner's ready."

Aryn opened the door and looked at their aunt. A smile appeared on their face as if they had not just been struggling to read from a ritual book that was written in Latin. "I'll be down in a minute." They spoke in their usual monotone voice. Their aunt nodded as she disappeared off downstairs.

This individual was named Aryn. Nobody knew their surname but all that people knew was that their parents were dead. And that they were wanted by the FBI. Aryn had been in hiding for a while. Covering their tracks whenever possible. Their aunt had been helping with their tracks too because she wanted to keep them safe from any harm. The police nowadays were mostly run over by alternates. Something she didn't want Aryn running into. Not after what happened to her brother.

Aryn closed the door and moved on over to the book once more. They picked it up from the floor, staring down at the cover. "I will find a way to bring you two back." They whispered to the book. "I will." The book was thrown down onto their bed as they left their room.

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Purple. That was all that he saw before plummeting from the sky. He was falling. He had no clue what was happening. Was he drunk again? Was this a dream? He saw others. He saw others plummeting alongside him all the way to the ground. He still believed this was a dream. His eyes closed as tight as they could and he hoped for the best.
He hoped he'd wake up back in his bed where everything is back to normal.

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A field of green. The grass looked as though it hadn't been cut for ages due to the fact it had been overgrown. It was quiet within these areas of completely nothing. You could have this whole place to yourself - nobody to disturb you whatsoever. Nobody tells you what to do... getting off-track.
Somebody sat up within this field. He looked confused. He rubbed his head and groaned in pain as his vision tried to adjust to its new surroundings. His head was screaming in agony as if it had just cracked open like an egg. "God..." he muttered under his breath as he tried to get up from the floor. "Did I drink too much? Where the fuck am I?"

He looked around once more and limped a bit. His leg most definitely was broken but he hadn't given two shits. He had to find his friend. Did his friend come out here too? He recalled that they both got pretty drunk... he thinks. Maybe he is remembering last week. Nobody knows yet. "Cesar?" He called out, looking around him. "Dude, where the fuck are you?"

"Mark?" A familiar voice spoke out. Mark turned around and saw his friend, Cesar, standing there with his hand to his head. "Mark, where in the hell are we? I don't remember going to bed in a damn field in the middle of God knows where."

"I- I have- no clue." Some sort of stiff laugh came out of the male as he looked around him once more. "We're in a field, yeah, but there must be a road we could find in order to get back home."

"I'm not even sure if we are near Mandela County anymore." Cesar crossed his arms with a stern look on his face. "I have no clue where we are and it definitely does not look like our hometown. Did we end up on the other side of America or what?"

Mark shrugged lightly as he made his way over the field to at least try and find some strip of road. "No clue. We ought to find out and just- make our way back home, alright? We can ask for directions if needed because I definitely do not know my way back to the county." The same stiff laugh came out of his mouth and limped out of the field.

Cesar had noticed this limping but did not want to bring it up to Mark. He had major concerns for his best friend but he definitely knew Mark would not give two shits about some limp he is doing right now. That was going off what Mark acts like when he injures himself. He sighed to himself and made his way over, making sure to catch up with Mark and not lose him this time.

It felt like hours walking through this field. Hours of walking and walking and finally finding a strip of road. Mark sighed in relief and he rolled up his sleeves. The sun was scorching hot today. He would take off his coat but he didn't really have half the mind to do so. He noticed a person casually walking down the street.

"Hey!" He called out. The person raised an eyebrow and turned towards Mark's direction, who was now rushing on over. "Hey! Do you know the direction to- to Mandela County? At all?"

They tilted their head a little bit. "...Mandela County?"

"Yeah..? I'm sure you've heard about it before, right? With all the alternates and stuff." He sounded insane.

The person shook their head. "There ain't no such thing as a Mandela County 'round here, man. You stoned or somethin'?"

"...Stoned?"

"High. Do you take drugs?"

"No? What?"

"Then somethin' must be wrong with you 'cause there ain't a Mandela County." The person walked off in a different direction in order to get away from Mark. He stood there on the pavement with the most flabbergasted expression.

Cesar finally caught up with Mark. "What? What's wrong?" He had noticed the expression visible on the man's face.

"There isn't anything called Mandela County. Like... the whole county doesn't exist." He spoke in a shocked tone of voice. "Where the fuck are we then? If there isn't a thing called Mandela County then where are we?"

"Woah, woah, calm down, amigo. There might be an explanation to this. Maybe they never heard of Mandela County before. Maybe we just have to keep looking until we find somebody who knows about it, right?"

Mark started to mess with his zipper on his coat as he started sweating. "No- no, what if we're in a completely different place? Where- where Mandela County doesn't exist? What if we're just stranded somewhere in some different universe?"

"Okay, now you sound crazy. There isn't any proof of alternate universes, Mark. We both know that. We just might be lost. Come on, let's see if anybody else knows what's going on and where we should go." Cesar moved away and started to walk down the pavement.

He stood there for a moment and sighed heavily, following Cesar. What if they do exist, though? If they do - what universe were they in?