The Addicts

[Arellia]

The Addicts
By Syd Cooper

It was hot in the valley. The sun beat down relentlessly in visible waves, vibrating to the tune of the mud-brick houses on the lonely street. It was midday, yet no soul would be stupid enough to stand out there in the sultry mess. Indeed, there would be no reason to. Only the night would bring good things to the valley. Arguably good, perhaps. The drug-laden square would be alive at night, which meant there would be people. Whether this was a good thing was unclear.

At any rate, no logical being would be out and about at this time.

Ferin Rittman stood with his back against the side of a house staring down the particular street. Ferin was apparently no form of logical being. His dark eyes scanned the area nervously, over every one of the mirage-like buildings. His black sleeveless t-shirt stuck uncomfortably to his chest glued by sweat. His black hair, although short usually retained a sort of bounce. The heat had sucked the volume from it. If he possessed any measure of intelligence, he would be inside his home, sleeping. Or perhaps under the shade of a tree. He might have done this under �normal� circumstances. As it was, the thing had consumed him, and he would do anything to get it. The joy was all that mattered.

He impatiently turned the syringe over in his hand. It�d been half an hour, and Akari still wasn�t there. Akari knew very well he could take his business elsewhere if he had to. He direly hoped it wouldn�t come to that. An entire case of joy, for an insanely low price. The deal was far too intriguing to be passed up because of impatience, but the need was growing in the back of his mind, and he feared losing his control. He began tapping the wall. Tapping faster. His hand was going mad, wild with tapping. If he didn�t let his hand go, he�d start pacing. Or mumbling hysterics. He couldn�t let that happen.

Tapping. More tapping�he had to have the joy. He had to have the tapping. Had to keep tapping. Tapping would keep him sane, keep him from diverting. It would bring him joy, the tapping would. Yes, it-

He paused. A figure was coming towards him carrying a large black vinyl case over one shoulder. As the figure came closer, he could see the face of a boy no more than 3 years his senior. The boy had been walking a while, by the way his shock-red hair hung in strings over his forehead. Ferin looked up, but didn�t make contact with the stranger�s eyes. The red-head could be anyone. He couldn�t take that chance. This deal wasn�t, for the most part, legal. Ferin had spent some time locked up a few years back for a mistake. He didn�t plan on experiencing it a second time. The boy, wisely, was also avoiding eye contact.

�You Rittman?�

�Yeah. Ferin Rittman.�

The red head nodded slowly, as in a trance. �You got the silvers?�

�Depends,� Ferin was trying to keep his breathing level, even as he spoke. Everything in him begged him to shut up, stop asking questions and take the case. He pressed on, �Name?�

�Akari. Five silvers, now.�

It wasn�t much to go on. It still could�ve been anyone. Ferin was having a hard time persuading himself to care. He handed over the five coins, and Akari easily exchanged the case.

�You need more, you talk to Jachia. She�ll hook you up. I got three months,� Akari added.

The deal was done. Ferin nodded and watched Akari depart. When the dealer was out of sight, Ferin turned and took off towards his own dwelling. He felt the convulsions just second after he began walking. He jerked with every step. His hands started shaking, and then the rest of his body followed. He was walking, but he didn�t see where he was going. His mind was moving without him, because every spare thought had contorted beyond his grip. He couldn�t touch these thoughts, for they were not his. They were instinct, fundamental need. A need and instinct to press the delicate metal deep into his skin, and feel the liquid swarm his body�yes, it was essential.

He absently turned in towards his home. The quarters were quite sparce, for the one-room house only served two purposes. A place to sleep, and a place to get fixed. There were no extra belongings or memorabilia littering the area. An extra set of clothes was thrown carelessly on the floor and a large bed with a brown cover that occupied most of the room. At the end of the bed was the chest in which he stashed his joy. He didn�t ever bother with blasts--too short. Not worth the credit. Joy was hard to come by and pricey, but the effects were lasting.

Still shaking, he hastily opened the black case and shook its contents onto the bed, hurling the bag into oblivion. Fifty small tubes filled with amber liquid bounced out onto the bed. Metal capped each glass container. Such a find he had never before come by. He fumbled with the syringe, finally loading it with who-knew-how-many doses of the stuff. He sighed and stabbed his wrist with the needle and felt a warm wave spreading from his arm all the way through his blood. The tension in his muscles released, and the pain from the need receded, replaced by a lofty feeling, a feeling that enveloped him and calmed the threat of neuroticism. For surely there was nothing wrong with the feeling, even as he crashed down onto the bed, vaguely aware of having squashed several tubes upon hitting it. That didn�t matter. Nothing did.

He smiled and laughed and nothing in particular, his vision going fuzzy. As nothing mattered, he didn�t have any worries. He wasn�t worried about the chance of inspectors coming in the following hours, him not sober enough to hide his new and illegally obtained joy. He wasn�t worried about the fact of having no food or water for the next five days. No, that wasn�t a problem. Nothing could be sharp or uncomfortable now. It was all sort of warm and fuzzy, sort of like a cloud.

He began to wonder what it would be like to be a cloud. Were clouds warm like him, or did they just look like it? Maybe he would be a gray cloud�yeah, that was it. A warm and fuzzy gray monsoon cloud that made everything steamy and nice. What a thought.

He lay like that for over an hour, drifting from thread to thread of what was left of himself, and for quite some time he found himself smiling and laughing at the silence. He began to think about silence and emptiness and air, but then he lost it and drifted to the next insignificant thing that passed through his hazy brain. Luckily enough for him, the drugs were not potent enough to hold him incapacitated for far too long, and Ferin was distantly able to conclude that the white, sharp object staring him in the face was, in fact, a sword.



There's more, if anyone wants it... *shrugs*

[Lord Borg]

Wow, this is very very good. The attention to detail is amazing, with the description of the scenery and what the person is feeling. Keep up the good work.

[Arellia]

Because I feel like posting another segment... this is set 3-4 months after "The Addicts," by this time Ferin has been freed of the drug.

Loyalty
By Syd Cooper

Rough Location: Larkana, Pakistan

The man who was standing over Ferin did not have his best interests at heart. Whatever this man was doing was not for his benefit. Yes, he had injected Ferin with a red stick that had miraculously cured his gun wound, and yes, he had laid him on a somewhat soft pallet. Yet for some reason, this man had kept Ferin in a state of moderate sedation. Ferin felt such fatigue that he could not move, could hardly open his eyes. He was in no pain, certainly compared to the agony of his blood spilling into the water, being rubbed raw with the cold. It would be relieving if the man who looked remarkably like Jeyin would stop staring from the corner of the vehicle. Said vehicle, it should be noted, was very dark. Ferin could only make out vaguely a few humming red lights indicating instrument panels--the only illumination in the cabin. It made those haunting black eyes even more ghastly.

�Rittman, is it?� Cold, low voice. The man could practically be Jeyin.

�Ferin, yeah�� Ferin groaned, closing his eyes. He was so, so tired�

�Hm.� The man, from the sound of his voice, was smiling.

�Who�re you?� Ferin asked distantly.

�My name is not your concern. You may refer to me as Ralin.� By his tone, Ralin was likely not his true name. �What were you doing traveling with those people, boy?�

�I�� Ferin moaned, �I followed them��

�Charming.� Ralin said dryly, �What is your purpose to them?�

�I can�t tell you�� Really, Ferin didn�t see why he couldn�t tell this Ralin. It simply felt wrong. Whoever this man was, he was not there to help them. He was not a Kadaran, but something about him told Ferin that this man was darker than any soldier of the Kad army could ever be.

�I suppose you couldn�t.� Ralin rose and squatted down beside Ferin, taking the boy�s wrist for inspection. Any other time, Ferin might have fought the frail little man. Not this day. No doubt the man was looking at the prick-marks. �So that�s where you came from��

Ferin weakly retracted his hand, and Ralin let him. He didn�t take that as a good sign. �What do you mean?�

Ralin smirked devilishly. �You are important to them.�

�I don�t know�� Ferin�s eyes weighed shut yet again, �Leave me alone��

�I will.�

Ferin�s eyes shot open. No, that couldn�t have been a good thing. That was not the kind of response any sane captor would give the thing they were guarding. �You��

�Rittman, you know, you really shouldn�t be toiling in this little mess.� Ralin began to explain, walking over to a small table and preparing something in a jar. �You are very fragile. You are human, that�s not your fault. These people�they�re not of this world. They are fighting for some frivolous reason, only causing more harm than they should. For what? I really don�t think they know. You are innocent in all this�you should be spared. You do not know the crimes of the witch NoB, or the horrors of the Queen Zikaly. My son is merely mislead through this entire thing, much like you. But my son can stand through this, because he is more than human. You are at risk, and they should be kind enough to leave you out of this, to keep you from harm. Don�t you think?�

�They�re�my friends��

�Oh, I�m sure they are.� Ralin continued, not turning, �But really, I wouldn�t blame you if you wanted to leave. If you decide you wish to go, you are free to go, unharmed. We will leave you in a nice city where you will be protected and you won�t have to go through the rest of this. Truly, there is nothing you can do. What is left of this is between them and me. You did nothing wrong.�

�I can�t�� Ferin shuddered. Couldn�t he just sleep? �I can�t�betray�my friends��

A lead weight dropped upon him in the form of Ralin�s declining mood. �I give you one last chance. If you turn away now, you don�t have to betray them. Just say that you want to leave this place. Tell me that you�ll consent to abandoning this cause, and you will not suffer.�

�I won�t�leave them��

Ralin chuckled. Ferin took this as yet another bad sign. The man turned around with a small, glinting object in his hand, moving towards the immobilized boy on the pad. �I do pity you, Rittman. I really did not wish you to undergo their disgrace. But you made this choice, my boy. Their suffering will be your suffering. You-� Ralin paused and smiled wider, �Are now going to see the consequences to their evil.�

And suddenly when Ferin saw what the object in the demon�s hand was, he began to panic.
It was a syringe.

Not any syringe, Ferin noted. The liquid within was no foreign, strange compound. It was the one weakness he had. It was the incarnation of everything that had held him captive within himself for seventeen years. It was his demise, his most feared thing, the thing that had taken a goddess to cure him of. The syringe in all its horrific implication was filled with the amber liquid called joy. Ferin began to shake involuntarily. He couldn�t go back to that life of addiction, of self-absorption, of slow creeping death. It had consumed him. It took his soul away from him every time the needle pressed to his skin. It was wrong. The withdrawal was too painful, the fog in his mind too confining. It was his nemesis and his best friend. He struggled to find words.

No, he thought, Keep it away from me. Stay back. Go away. Snap the little capsule in half. Do not put that thing in my body.

He was drained. He couldn�t run, couldn�t hide. He couldn�t arouse a response within himself. His words would be lost on the little man. There was no way out. Dread crept into his bones and his stomach turned over at the thought of it. His hands clenched at his side. He had to get out. Anything, anything but the drug�

Ralin�s hands were stronger than one would surmise. Those pale fingers wrapped inescapably around Ferin�s hand, strangling it. Ferin gave up the resistance immediately. There was nothing he could do. The thin needle slipped beneath the skin on his wrist, and Ralin pushed the little button on the syringe.

�Wouldn�t it have been easier to take my advice, child?� Ralin�s conciliatory tone was negated by the warm liquid that began to inhabit Ferin�s bloodstream.

There was nothing left to do. Ferin clenched his eyes closed and awaited the effects of the joy. Protest was what this man wanted of him--protest and a loss of dignity. He couldn�t give this man pleasure, he refused to let a single drop of water spill onto his thirsting tongue. No sound left Ferin�s mouth, and the man like a shadow disappeared into the depths of the vehicle. He tried to level his breathing, to stay calm. No, he couldn�t get addicted. Not again. He vowed he would never let this happen--never, ever again. It would kill him to do it again. It would ravage his body too harshly to fall into that lulling chain of events that the joy demanded of him. He had to resist it--his body had to will it away. Yet as a dizzying, sick feeling began to envelop him his fear became a dreading, black entity within himself. He thought over and over again protests of denial, telling himself to stop it, turn away. He had not done this to himself, he didn�t want it. He didn�t want to go back.

Things he wanted, Ferin mused as his conscious mind slipped away, were almost never granted him.

[Lord Borg]

wow... this is great. Keep up the good work. Look foward to seeing more!