Stop | Stop; Go Duology Book 1

chapter six: cass

"Be betwixt to bequeath; 'twas a trick, not a treat," the tiny monster hisses, its body the size of a mutilated cat. "Your life, I shall reap."

A loud howl explodes past its tongue as it leaps for me. I stand as the thing's breath impales my nose and forces a gag past my uvula. In the stillness created by my movements, I stumble into the aisle, the small being sprouting bat-like wings as it makes a hard turn to catch me. Its long, thin claws open wide, ready to rake my eyes out. I scream and cover my face. The back of a seat has me trapped. 

It passes right through me.

My body glitches, a rainbow of colors spastically rearranging themselves. For a moment, I forget about the little beast trying to attack me. I stare at my arm, which is no longer solid, and watch as it returns to its original form.

The monster hisses, climbing up onto the top of the seat above me.

"Be betwixt to bequeath; 'twas a trick, not a treat. I was promised a ransom, but your head, you keep. Return to your form and none will be harmed, we pray this, for we are alarmed."

My head is spinning. This creature is speaking pure madness—but perhaps the creature is madness. Maybe it's a figment in my mind, something that will disappear once I close my eyes.

I squeeze them shut, my breath shaky, but in the darkness my eyelids create, I can see hundreds of the little creatures scuttling along darkened walls. They laugh and they hiss, all chanting a song.

Be betwixt to bequeath;
'twas a trick, not a treat.
The hands will not stop
nor shall they sway—
no mere halfie shall stand in their way.

When I open my eyes, the gooey, silver eyes of the creature is staring at me, resting atop another seat. It grimaces and something flashes in its eyes, as if it just figured something out.

"Go to the room where cloths are like chains and walls are like prisons. Where electrical currents ride in the veins of those who are but remnants. Return to thyself; only that is permitted. For you've made a fool of those committed."

With a nasty growl, it spits, the goop making my left side spaz.

It actually gets the right side damp, the smell rancid. I wipe it away, my fingers able to touch it, and sling it onto the ground beside me, my frame back to normal. I'm trembling, the world moving in pulsating movements around me, the bus starting and stopping. I press my leg against the bar beneath the seat to keep upright as I try to control my breathing and my shaking. The animal disappears in a colorful glitch as it scurries along the wall, away from me.

A person above me has begun to lean down to ask if I'm okay, the confusion on his face blatant. People look at me like that sometimes because it's like I appear out of thin air. Technically, to them, I probably do, but their brain must fill in the missing pieces of how I got there.

I stand, the momentum of the bus stopping once again throwing me forward. I nearly crash into the man as I catch my balance, tapping my finger on the seat to keep time frozen. What was the creature that spoke to me? And what did it mean by what it said?

And why did it try to attack me?

A shudder slivers across my bones as I move back over to my seat, everything stilling as I press play on my stolen iPod and let the punk ballad slow my pulse. The bus comes to a stop at a street that pulls my curiosities to the manila folder crumpled in my lap. The asylum that girl is in is on this street. People stand to get up as my body tenses, willing me to stay still and leave town like planned. Yet something pulls at me.

"Are you okay?"

The voice makes me jump and I spin, the world stopping as I face who spoke. It's the man I almost fell on top of, his eyes filled with concern. I wish I can reply to this stranger, his hair gray and his face kind, but I can't. I can't speak to anyone.

He waits for my response as I freeze, not knowing what to do. No one's tried to talk to me since I acquired this curse. The world snaps into motion again, and something on him glitches too, but different than when it did with me. Beneath his glitch, he glows a bright gold, whereas I was invisible. Intangible.

My foot starts tapping as my nerves are set on fire.

I need to get off this bus.

I grab everything in my lap and pick up the stray papers that had fallen in the scuffle with the creature and shove them into the bag I brought. Desperately trying not to hit anyone in my getaway, I slip past the man and try to control my breathing, the musty smell of the bus and the people filling my lungs and making me cough. I push through the half-opened accordion-style door and stomp my way into the street, the smell of oil pushing a headache onto me.

What do all these things mean, and... frick, there are too many questions to ask.

I stumble through the people in their frozen scenes: bird-feeding, face-cleaning, dog-walking, and so on.

The chants return to me as I still, feeling like something's watching me in the frozen world. It begins to move again and the chants are different this time, backwards.

Taert a ton ,kcirt a swat'
;htaeuqeb ot txwteb eb
Taert a ton ,kcirt a swat'
;htaeuqeb ot txiwteb eb

There's a voice by my ear.

"Be betwixt to bequeath; 'twas a trick, not a treat."

I spin around to see who said it, but the world freezes once again and there's nothing there. And I can't help but think that maybe I do belong in an asylum.