Borislav's philosophical voyage to Vayner Avenue left him empty of any feeling. It turned out, that the Shimga stuff was bullshit. Who could have thought? What was he to do? As he sat in front of his computer, nervously tapping his foot; he just couldn't stay in place. The screen's vibes and overall the crappy housing he found himself in caused him to burn out. He had to take a stroll outside. He called Flabby to go out, preferably to the park. But you know Flabby. He was a leader, not a follower. If there was a Shimga Male, he *was* the Shimga Male. Instead of thundering down the stairs as Borislav had planned to do, he leaped to the roof instead, causing an uncontroversial change of plan for his slave.
It became quite obvious that Flabby needed to take care of his needs, leaving Borislav's back turned to him as the young man enjoyed the cynically offputting view and the breeze's gently touching his face and arms. Something had changed since the last time he had been there. Something was in the decor, that wasn't there before. He looked around, knowing it, but not having yet put his finger on it. Ah yes! That depressingly thin blue-haired lady, covered in a fox's pelt and wearing opaque sunglasses, standing at the other end of the roof and facing the void. That was it! The thing, or rather person, that wasn't there during Borislav's previous visit.
She held a cigarette in her mouth, hands-free. As if for fun, she made it swing up and down in her mouth, before finally grabbing it and exhaling. Borislav hadn't seen her around the building at all and had no intention to initiate any interaction. However, fate's cruel hands had other plans. Or rather, Flabby's dirty paw. Deed done and buried, the Pit-Bull-Dog rushed step by step towards the stranger, without an ounce of animosity. Flabby wanted pats on the head, as stated by him standing on two legs, leaning his paws against the lady's expensive coat. "Flabby!" she exclaimed in her broken voice, tilting her head, smiling, and patting the beast. "What's that?" she asked, talking to the dog, "You have a new human?". Borislav stayed in place, gripping the fence, not moving even a facial muscle. "And he's right there?" she added, looking straight towards Borislav.
Still, he said nothing. It was too embarrassing. "He's a shy fuck isn't he?" she continued, prompting a sound of approval from the hound. "Uh." Borislav's voice finally came out, although not yet formulating anything productive. "Speak louder. I'm blind and old!" she demanded. "I didn't say anything" Borislav replied. "You did", she insisted, frowning. "I just said uh", the young man retorted, causing her to shake her head. "Kids these days. Dying their hair extravagantly...inventing new words like 'uh' because they haven't been taught to speak...The world's going down isn't it Flabby?" her trembling smoker hand brushed Flabby's saliva-covered chin as she ranted.
"Lady- Your hair is, uh, blue" Borislav replied, knowing he'd be chuckling if he wasn't sweating from anxiety. "I'm blind, kid. What does it matter if my hair is blue, pink, purple or green?". The Hooman wasn't sure how to put it, simply saying "You just said uh, that kids were dying their hair and it was bad.". "It is bad" she retorted, still petting the hound before asking him "He's a really stupid one, isn't he?", receiving another dog noise of approval. Borislav was fed up. Had nobody taught this lady basic respect? Although, he was more so fed up with himself. Here he was, being insulted without consequences. "He probably doesn't even know how I knew he was here" she chuckled.
"I - do." Borislav spoke, without thinking first. He actually didn't know. "Oh really? Mandragon grew some brains? Tell me then." she provoked him. He was left in awe as she pronounced his old name; who was this despicable woman? He didn't say anything, his dragon brain too busy trying to figure out who she was. "I speak to animals. That's how I know, dumb boy," she smirked, as she gently moved Flabby's leg away from her coat and onto the ground.
Borislav looked at her, puzzled. He had never heard of such power before, and yet she seemed to know everything about him through her demeanor. "Do I know you?" he asked, inspecting her from head to heel. "You do." she answered, in a rejuvenated and clear voice. "All it takes is some pounds less and another hair color for you to forget" she laughed. Her voice, devoid of the trembling old lady sound effect she had previously put on, was familiar. Yet he didn't remember. His memory wouldn't let him.
"If you want a hint; I don't speak to animals, and I'm not blind, I was just fucking with you." she added, as she took another batch of smoke into her mouth. "Hiley?" Mandragon asked, with an heart beating at light speed. "Bingo." she proclaimed, after breathing out a cloud. Mando was speechless. "Did you move to PTSHD on your own or did HeroKorp dump you here?" she asked, sparking even more confusion from the young man. "PT- uh, whatever, what's that?" Borislav inquired, shortly thereafter being informed; "P. T. S. H. D. It's a joke. Post Traumatic Super Hero Dumpster." Hiley chuckled, adding: "This is what me and Genie like to call this place."
The joke failed to lighten up Borislav's mood. He became haunted by this sentence: "Post Traumatic Super Hero Dumpster". He thought of Blobby, the only real tenant he had any significant interaction with...he had been a superhero too. "Is everyone here ex-employees of HeroKorp?" he asked, furious about not having been given this *noteworthy* detail by Fabius. "Yes." the blue-haired woman replied, throwing her cigarette out into the world. "They send us here free of charge after they've..." she paused. Hylie removed her sunglasses, revealing what happened to her eyes. No sclera nor pupil was to be seen; her bright green iris took up the whole of her eye's surface. "...broken us with their experiments, duties, or orders, and they no longer can milk any money from our ruined souls." she continued.
Borislav stared into her eyes, before abruptly looking away. He wished he had never looked. "It's fucked up isn't it?" she giggled, receiving no response from the 'shy fuck'. "I can even see into my own brain now." this comment from her made Vomitslav boil with the envy to puke, but he managed to keep his composure. Hiley seemed to get some sort of sadistic pleasure out of putting sick images into Borislav's head. Yet it was more worthwhile for her to reiterate her question; "So, you haven't told me. Why are you here? You're really young. It's unusual for them to discard fresh meat."
"I quit" Mandragon stated, keeping it short. "Why?" Hylie asked right away, fetching another cigarette to prepare for the long and epic story she thought she would hear. Instead, she only received silence. She didn't press any further after seeing Borislav's jaw clenching as he looked down depressingly. She recognized this face. "You should try booking an appointment with Genie, it might or might not help you but...you should take your chance. Even if you don't get over it, she'll still probably manage to help you out of this dumpster, as she did with me." she said, putting an end to the discussion as Borislav didn't reply, too busy repressing his own demons.
Hylie left without a goodbye after throwing out two more cigarettes. As for Flabby, he had long fallen asleep, snoring at the edge of the roof. Borislav's stance grew heavy on his feet, leading him to rest on the crappy bench that mysteriously laid on the roof. He stared at the clouds to soothe himself, although they were scarce that day. The sun gave his back a heating massage as he finally calmed down. However, it soon became annoying. Borislav's wish to move around and not stay still had vanished. He went down to his apartment, laying down on the couch, simply by habit. Flabby's sleep was left undisturbed up there.
He woke up a few hours later, it was already evening. He poured himself a coffee, some soup, turned on his laptop...But after finishing his undoubtedly nutritious dunch (dinner & lunch ), he remembered he had left something important outside; Flabby. Taken over by guilt, Borislav left his dirty plate and cup on his desk and as quickly as possibly went to open the door to the doorway. He didn't see anything. Perhaps Flabby was still sleeping on the roof? He went up to check, but there again, he didn't see the hound. Instead, he saw a familiar stranger, dancing lousely on the adjacent building's roof.
It was the large mustached man wearing retrofuturistic sunglasses and an office shirt covered in colorful paintstrokes...the one that had ordered without paying nor picking up his package, and that Borislav had noticed strangely walking when the fire incident happened at the FCP. His presence on the roof next to his house creeped Borislav out extensively, who still had no clue who this man was or what he wanted. The dancing continued, as the chubby man hit invisible piano keys while moving around.
With Flabby not being on the roof, Borislav had no longer any business staying there. But, just in case, he spoke up towards the dancer; "Hey. Have you seen a dog?". The eccentric man stopped dancing, and simply looked at Borislav with his sunglasses, rigid as a stone. Borislav looked at him, he looked at Borislav, and so on. An infinite amount of awkwardness took over the young tenant, who regretted having said anything. Without turning his back, he went back to the staircase, walking down backwards, somehow weary of the man following him.
Having found the doorway and hearing a familiar thump against the door, he finally turned around to see Flabby demanding entry to the apartment. "Where were you?" Borislav asked softly, in vain. Flabby didn't answer him. In any case, he was reassured to see the fat dog alive and well, and to be able to go back home and procrastinate peacefully. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, taking a breath of the home-specific stink that haunted this place.
Five minutes had passed where Borislav simply browsed the internet to squeeze a laugh out of his overly depressed mind. It was a normal evening, until he felt the weight of a meaty hand on his shoulder. "Hey." a recognizable voice uttered. Unfortunately, it wasn't Nomia's. It was the strange dancer's. Borislav fell from his chair, threatening to burn him to death. "Wow. Calm down." the man said, holding his hands up as a gesture of non-hostility. "Who are you? What- what do you want? How did you get in here?" Borislav asked, grasping onto his desk and getting back on his feet, ready to unleash a forest fire at any given moment. "I think I'm your dad" the creep replied, showing no trace of sarcasm in his tone.
Borislav's baggy eyes were filled to the brim with despair. Having to bring a mental asylum's patient back wasn't what he had in mind for this day. "My father is dead" Borislav replied, letting the giant weirdo know that he wasn't fooled. The man brushed his half-bagel mustache as he replied, a bit less confidently; "About that...I'm a ghost." A ghost? Whatever asylum he was hospitalized in, it must have been the highest security one in the whole of Janisbure. Borislav would have laughed at him if it wasn't for the fact that this person was real, had broken into his home, and now tried to convince him he was his deceased father's ghost.
"You've been there every time I felt drawn to a place... You have to be the kid Mlatuza told me about." The man removed his sunglasses as he explained, revealing his green iris; "You have my eyes.". He did have his eyes. But Borislav was unconvinced to say the least. What the fuck was happening? "Please go away." Borislav pleaded, covering his mouth with his hand as breathed out. "No. You need me" the man replied. "I don't.", Borislav insisted. "You do" the man insisted just as much. "How?" Borislav asked, angry at himself for even giving him any attention.
The dancer informed him; "If you didn't need me, I wouldn't be drawn to you and they wouldn't have put me out of the Dead's World.". Borislav didn't understand a thing, perhaps for the best. "Look- look, what makes you think you're a ghost?" He asked, having put his finger on the ultimate gotcha. But no, it wasn't a gotcha. Except for himself. The man punched through the wall, but no hole appeared, his arm stretched through it, without physically affecting it. "You're also the only one who can see and feel me...apart from other ghosts.", he looked at Flabby sitting on the bed, not having moved a nail since the man first showed himself in the bedroom.
Borislav looked in the same direction, trying to find another plausible explanation of how a hand can go through a wall. He had none. "Why are you looking there?" he asked the ghost. "There's another ghost" the dancer replied. "Flabby!?" Borislav inquired, in shock. "Is that the name of the dog?" the man nonchalantly asked, receiving a positive nod. "Oh no. Not the dog. There's an old lady on the bed." he continued, waving towards the bed. "What." Borislav stated, having disturbing flashbacks of the unmonkly activities he might have done in front of his laptop during the previous 3 weeks. The ghost was about to open his mouth again, but was interrupted.
"I need some time alone." Borislav said, which for once made the ghost leave him alone. He went to the next room as he nodded comprehensively, going through the wall. Borislav didn't get onto his chair against, but instead fell back to the floor. He rubbed his eyes in vain, he couldn't erase what he had just seen. And yet. He somehow stopped panicking. Ghosts were just another strange thing piling up on his mind. Why was everything so strange around this place? Everything felt other-worldly, despite seeming normal in surface. He buried his head on his legs, wandering what had happened to make him feel so numb. At least, if the ghost was true about their link, he would get some answers about his dad. But for now, he only had questions. Why was his dad whiter than quartz? How come he acts and dresses so strange?
He would keep these questions stashed in a corner of his mind, as all his emotions were. He didn't know what he was feeling; if he was feeling anything. It wasn't worry, it wasn't grief, it was just a question mark.