Automaton

A Strange Man

Francis didn't ask for any of this shit.
He'd been set on fire, had his nose broken, been shot, and even lost his eye. He was also sure at least two versions of himself had died.
If all that wasn't enough, he was still stuck with this fucking suitcase.

"Fucking suitcase."

He'd come to learn that he could "talk" to other versions of himself holding the damned thing in their respective dimensions. A lot of times, this was pretty useful. Most of the time it wasn't.

"Shut up" he said to the suitcase as he ripped off the mostly clean bandage covering his nose. He inhaled through his nostrils and sighed.

Most of the time it was a pain in the ass.

Today, Francis had a mission. A jailbreak.

"I'm just being colorful, I know she's not in jail."

He walked down an empty street surrounded by miles of trees. The street was constructed with only 5 houses down each side of the street, ending in a cul-de-sac. A faded yellow house occupied the left side of the cul-de-sac. He held a phone to his ear and when the ringing stopped, he tucked it away, uttering a small curse.  As he walked, he spied two masked figures holding hands, walking towards him. They did not seem to be engaged in conversation, but focused on him.

"Shit."

He turned to his left and dove into the bush, and landed on the soft purple carpeted interior.
From inside the bush, he could see the roots start almost invisibly in front of him, and eventually become solid with the bush "facade". He looked around and realized the bush wasn't a facade, but a hole in space-time, simultaneously inside the bush and also in some weird purpled carpeted room.

"It smells in here."

The suitcase uttered a silent reply.

"I don't care if it's a flower, it smells weird."

He surveyed the interior of the bush and reached into his back pocket for a small leather book he carried. He opened the book for instructions. (He didn't always trust the Francis on the other side of the suitcase, but the notebook never lied.)
He read what the notebook had to say and then set the suitcase down, opening it and retrieving the contents within. A small pile of mail and a pen. One of the letters was blank and he stared at it, cocking his ear to hear what the suitcase had to say.

"How do I get in without the bees seeing me?"

Francis heard a woman laugh softly from off to his left. He looked up and realized in front of him, the bush had opened up into Desdemona's house. Behind him was the bush and purple carpet, under him the carpet melted into tile and the walls were a mixture of leaves and white.

"Oh."

He heard the footsteps draw closer and quickly scrawled a message on the mail and dropped it onto the table, running back into the breach. When he turned around, he now stood in her bedroom. He felt around for the pen and mail and realized he left it all on the table. He frantically searched around and found an eye pencil on her dresser. He scrawled his messaged and turned to run through the door, the other side of which led to the bush. His leg caught on the dresser, knocking several items to the ground. He fell into the bush and placed his hands on the carpet, feeling its texture. He laid there for a minute, feeling the carpet on his face and hands. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

"It doesn't smell so bad."

He heard a slamming noise, and opened his eyes. The suitcase lay several inches in front of his face.

"Gimme two seconds." He said as he closed his eyes.

"Wait they're what!?"