Much of the very mundane hours and days flow unimpeded in the vacuum of rest and respite. The world continues to flow, as the life cycle of life rolls its unending reels of unpredictable segments of life. Life, the sacred sanctity that holds treasures and yet horrific astonishments. There is no leisure in the minds of the workers who pipe and grumble as they stand around the night shift, working around the in-ending hours of freight, and crates that seemed to never almost end, smoking on duty if operating a forklift.
To others, things appear much more positive. seemingly carefree, couples roam about, exchanging gifts, and small pecks while bathing in the moon's light, gravitating their sight over to the shoreline pier of entertainment and fun, that has hexed the many goers. From the riders that shouted their lungs off the top apex of a roller coaster, to the idle moments of conversational engagements of a group of teenagers, hanging about within one cart of the Ferris wheel.
Life is a mouth full of delectable and sour experiences. Though the thrill and the spoils of boredom were lackluster in some areas. In the lives of a few of course, rarely was this ever apparent, or even evident. So are simply engaged elsewhere. Lost in the tumultuous strait of adulthood. Well, adulthood was questionable, like a seesaw, things could take a turn for the better or worse. Either things begin to improve upward, or it's all downward into the chasm of procrastination and lazily scanning items in a retail shop.
Ahh, life.
Such was life to a slumbering gentle soul, snoring on the grassy grounds of the eternal expanse of plains and generic wooden houses that appeared to crust in the distance. There was no day nor night, as the sky was balanced between the two-day cycles. Not many stars, but one. The sun illuminated the dull and empty Valley of grass, to shine over an olive-skinned figure resting sprawled.
Yes.
A figure, a tall young boy, no older than 18, rested soundly and snored loudly, tongue hanging out as a bubble of mucus dripped from his nose while facing down the bare grass ground, preoccupied in a state of bliss. In a brown leather bomber jacket and a pair of jeans shorts. He couldn't help but scratch his shins with the pointed end of his high tops sneakers, before groaning and scratching and rubbing his nose.
"Hmmmmm, are we there yet?" He groaned, while sluggish in his word. "Stupid flight attendant lady and her, off-brand, airport-exclusive peanuts… what's an inner city hustler gotta do to quell a bad case of idis, no, no, no billy Mays you're cool, but I don't need any more might putty…" He grunted, comfortable, before rubbing the sides of his head, feeling the buzzed stubs of his fade, before scratching the top of his Mohawk.
Polter couldn't help but feel weak at the weight of drowsiness. His attention laser-focused on the daunting darkness that flooded his sight, as he only mentally wandered off into guessing how long before his flight lasted. He wasn't worried much about the flight, but rather the limit of his patience. Growing up in the projects there was much to look forward to, as he had invested a lot of time training and setting his vocals.
Or so he thought once snorting in a flake of grass into his nose.
"Pfft what the hell?, is this? Hugh? eugh? EWWWUGH?!!" polymer shouted, awakening abruptly wide-eyed, pushing himself up. "WHY- How long- HUH?!" He looked around, worriedly combing his surroundings before hopping to his feet, limping off his sleeping feet, as he mentally hyperventilated at the sight.
"YO?! HELLO?!" He shouted, replied with only the faded burst of echo that traveled along the empty, voided sky.
Polter couldn't walk fast enough to quell his nerves as he hurriedly power-walked from his resting spot. There were many questions and few answers as he quickened his pace, aimlessly without direction. There was no answer to his panic, but just his breathing and the crisp crumbling sound of crinkling grass that was buried under his sole.
It wasn't right.
None of it was.
"Yo, Every house…. Well, what project did I get dropped into?! This ain't the hood. The sky and moon… yo, I know- I'm not on a bad trip right?" he couldn't ponder any harder, as he shakily continued on his reconnaissance.
He couldn't recall how he had gotten into the limbo of quite literally nothing. He was just a senior, with an avid fascination with mechanical engineering and music. Cream of the crop when it came to weight training, though stingy when it came to his attention. Polter hated to admit it himself, but sometimes, a bit of company isn't all bad sometimes. Especially at the moment as he continued venturing about the open with broadened eyes that scanned the surroundings.
"This- this has to be a dream… none of this- it's possible! Wait!" He gasped, before exhaling and pinching his shoulder with the end of his nails.
"OW! OK! NOPE! I'M AWAKE! DAMMIT!" He said, reddened across his face as he puffed his cheek, while rubbing his shoulders. "But this doesn't make sense, I should be back on my flight to Miami! Hearing the constant anguish of a child and his mother, while they kick my chair, while I fall asleep to the gentle- ok, low-cost carriers are the worst! Damn!" He concluded, before sighing.
He couldn't help but slowly lessen his worries. Polter acknowledged the many possibilities of a valid and of course, possible explanation that had some elements of realism. It wasn't early enough to jump the ship towards insanity, as he formulated the possible theories of his whereabouts. Each with its own bizarre twists. Most of which are just ridiculous in their own right. Though Polter always took into account the impossible.
"Ok… I must've suffered a cardiac event! And thus ended up here? Huh… not gonna lie, afterlife seems pretty boring"
"No! Ridiculous! I must've entered into a state of lucid dreaming! I mean! It's possible! But at the same time, this realm, it's not even in my control as a typical lucid dream…."
"Heh, perhaps This is the matrix, the hidden server where all those who are close to possibly waking up to the truth are exiled to, punished to bask in the eternal confines of loneliness- actually it may as well all be a dream…" He nodded, half-hearted in his worries, crossing his arms and rubbing his shoulders.
He continued onward, traveling along the empty plain, wandering blindly as he mentally dissected his surroundings. There was something similar, or familiar. The plain and houses were all distinct within their rights. Though, it tickled a brain muscle to raise his brow. There was something off-putting about the rolling hills. Something encapsulating the weight of worry also beckoned nostalgia for the meadow hills.
There was Something recognizable about the generic yellow houses that were set on the apex of each bright untilled green hill.
When going to investigate one, he couldn't help but gasp, as the house itself appeared almost nonexistent. Its foundation was a deception, arriving at the nearest building, he could tell, by simply inspecting the side that the house was entirely 2D in dimension.
"No way…" He gasped, stretching his attention to the back of the house, before shrinking his face to a bemused expression.
"Ok… oh hell, That's some trippy wack nonsense there..." He claimed, dumbfounded before rubbing against the reinforcing layer of the wooden panel.
Polter couldn't only best perceive the air, but the light, the feeling of everything under his feet, it was all too true to be considered just a simple dream. Was it all just a figment of his imagination? Perhaps… he was always careless when eating around others, so he couldn't eliminate possible food poisoning as a possibility for his untimely trip. Much of it probably had to do with his diet which always consisted of protein, mushrooms, and eggs.
That's probably the worst possibility.
"Welp, safe to say… I'm Never flying a low-cost carrier again" He said with a fear stripped, slowly emptied of its worries as he nervously smiled. "Not much I can do now but-" Polter stopped, his ear and senses beginning to pick up on a vibration.
"Did I really!? My phone! Yes, baby! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Polter exclaimed, reaching into his pocket, with great anticipation before shooting his hand out upon gripping his unusually small phone. "On God, on God, let there be service! Aha!" Polter in great expectation held onto his faith.
He shot out his hand.
Behold.
The air cooled around his face, as his smile froze in place.
In his mind, a thought bubble lingered above his brain. One of course, not so far from the imaginable picture of a helpless scenario. One that could be properly compared to his current misfortune. One image that materialized was of a DND dice roll, that slowly and surely tumbled around a wooden table, just before it could roll into a 20, it's suddenly eaten by a house cat, which soon so happens to shit on the bowl of dip once needed to combat the night munchies.
Polter's expectation withered as fast as his face had gained some momentum to sparkle in joy.
He remained smiling while gripping a strangely shaped device that happened to bear a similar resemblance to a glorified novelty toy he had only heard about, and seen on TV all those years ago. A Tamagotchi toy, which happened to have a foldable clamshell screen. It was schemed and coated in a two-tone color of blue and black. It released some distinct familiar tingling that it emitted through its subtle enchanting looks.
"Huh… haven't I seen this thing before?" He asked, bewildered.
It was a tug of emotion that made his attention rivet over the small device. It was something unusual, yet intriguing. Something about it had Polter engaging Longley over the gadget before losing track of his own surroundings. His ear suddenly tickled with the sound input of a beep.
The device began blurting an uninterrupted chirp-like bleep rhythm.
Bleep!bleep!bleep! Beeeeeeep!
Bleep!bleep!bleep! Beeeeeep!
"How does this- wait…." Polter slowly fiddled with the device. Unfolding its screen, and slowly greeted with a start-up sequence that was brief in seconds to a buffer bar, before booting up to a red home screen, that red in plain bold letters.
"WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! ANOMALY-TYPE NEAR PROXIMITY!"
700M
650M
650M
600M
Polter stood dumbfounded, whilst absorbed in his curiosity of what he had been hauling without realizing it. Was it some kind of toy? Polter couldn't tell, as he was more focused on what the message was possibly attempting to convey. His breathing slowed, as he tried searching around the valley of rolling hills and houses, instinctively beckoned by the alert.
580M
"Is something nearby…?" He wondered out loud, before fidgeting with the buttons on the system. "What does this thing mean that I'm near-" Just as he'd been grumbling and meandering, his peripheral sight seized in place.
Polter's soul couldn't quite describe it at first. But, it wasn't unusual. It was naturally convinced upon that humans were gifted with the ability to sense or perceive danger. Not through simple vision or hearing, but simply the sensation that could perturb anyone by the neck, and leave them silent in place.
"W-what- oh what in sweet Mary, Joseph" He whispered.
Polter felt this, like attempting to make of the unexplainable, as he stood in place. Focused on a single, distant tree that crusted from the horizon, not so far, yet closer than what he wanted it to be. It was another tree, a tree rooted from down to its stump. It was the curtain to a stilled figure. A shadowy lanky figure that curiously peered around the highest thickets of the tree. Permeating through was a pair of wide, and unnaturally broad eyes that were larger than a squid's, while its stalk-thin legs permeated through the trunk.
Polter smiled while fading in color as he attempted to describe the very aberration that had locked its sight over him.
"O-Oh… oh- oh ok, I- um, Christ?" He stuttered
530M
530M
530M
The range of numbers repeated itself before finally pausing to one blurt. As a few texts flared brightly against a blue screen, with a minimum of words, the screen booted up to a few texts and a blue background, that simply read in bold letters.
"Digivice calibration completed! Welcome User"
The small foldable gadget blurted its welcome.
Polter stopped to possibly mentally theorize what was occurring, before a word sent hair standing across his body, resetting his brain up to a smear instinct of shock.
"Digivice….?" He reiterated, whilst exchanging his blank gaze with the being.
While in the distance, a deep and yet distant voice only uttered its presence, nearly incomprehensible as the stalking figure froze in place from behind the tree, while rambling the distinct numerals without any end.
"01101001000100010010010"