PROLOGUE The Transcripst In a bedroom, in a place called Discovery House, a young boy plays a few seconds of tape. He writes three words down on a piece of paper, rewinds the tape and listens to the same part again. He still had one hour and forty-five minutes of tape left to transcribe. However, it didn’t matter because no one would read it for at least another twenty years. |
Part One - This is a private party, no heavy metal bands allowed
One
“Unfair”, you could hear them shout, “Unfair”. The foul voices rose from the jostling crowd. People, all in various states of being, were pushing, crying, panicking. Having just arrived, the woman with the smart suit staggered in bewilderment and awe at the sight in front of her. Such noise was only in keeping with a class of riotous seven year olds and an average heavy metal concert. People of all ages were pushing other people of all ages just for a chance to get to the front. Such behavior, she thought, was similar to the first two minutes of a car boot stall when someone notices an electronic device in the back of a car. The amount of shoving and fighting prevented her from observing what the rush was all about. The shouts of, ‘unfair’, were in unison and filled with anger. She could not imagine what they were all centered upon. Children, looking lost and afraid, were scattered around the perimeter of the rabble, gazing in wonder and probably asking themselves, why? It was then the woman really noticed the periphery of the crowd. It was mainly populated with older people, waving their arms in the air as if holding imaginary sticks and trying their best to jump to see how far from the front they were. The woman walked forward but more as a comfort to herself. she did not know where to go or what to do but with the rest of the room running amok she felt she had to.
Then there was the room itself. The woman had been so engrossed in the spectacle in the middle that she had not taken in the whole room. But it was not a room, it was more reminiscent of a large school hall. Windows decorated the high parts of the walls covered only by a thin blue curtain that let the sunlight flood in and give everything an underwater tint. The walls were painted in a dirty cream colour with a dark blue border running around the hall at head height. A dark brown wood, polished and shining with knots in the veneered finish, covered the floor. The woman looked down at her feet. As her eyes moved she noticed that no more than six feet away was a sight she had never even seen in a horror film, but then again she did not care for horror films. There was a man sat up stretching for a severed leg that lay four foot away from his grasp. The woman put her hand in front of her mouth. She was about to cover her eyes but felt compelled to look at the man’s struggle,
“Excuse me love, could you kick that over here?” The man looked the woman in the eye. “I’d kick it myself except I’ve nothing to kick it with.” He was completely free from pain, he even had a slight grin on his face. The lady, whose eyes were now watering at the thought of what might have happened, spoke with a sense of unease. “Sorry but are you, that is I mean, no...yes...no, erm, are you in any pain?”
“Pain?” the man said in surprise, “good lord no, I didn’t feel a thing, came straight off, I passed out when it happened and never came round. The family is probably crying about it now.”
“How did it happen, you know, the...” the woman pointed at his bloodied stump where his leg should have been attached.
“What my leg?” said the man.
“Yes your leg.”
“Glass. I was taking a shower in one of those small compartments, you know those new types? Anyway, it was last Tuesday when my son drives his toy truck into one of the side panels and cracks the damn thing. Of course, I meant to fix it but you forget to do it and, one slip on the soap and I’m history, a clean chop, chkkoo.” The man made a karate chop out of his flat palm and aims it at his leg. “Apparently I died of the shock, that is why I’m naked.”
Part one of 'Discovery House' continues here
