CHOOSE YOUR OWN MINDFUCK: A Night in Eighth Block Tower (B11)

Bedlam Bible fans! Explore the Eighth Block Tower! Choose your fate! New posts every Tuesday and Friday. September '23 through December '23. Don't succumb to the huummmmmmmmm...

You’ve decided to take a hit…

Smoke wavers in the air before you, a continuous stream of ethereal ribbons, formed at the glowing end of the tower flower that a young resident is currently holding not even two inches from your face. You stare at the rising smoke and unconsciously breathe some of it in. A euphoric feeling ripples through your blood.

“Sure, what the hell?” you say, then take the spliff out of the residents hand and bring it to your lips. You take a single hit, hold it in your lungs, then offer what’s left of it to Gale and T-Dakk.

“Hell naw,” T-Dakk says, pushing your hand away. “That shit will fuck you up. Permanently.”

That last word causes you to immediately release the smoke from your lungs. “Permanently? What do you mean?”

“Count your teeth. That’s all I’m saying,” he says, then turns to the side to pick up his guitar. Gale laughs.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I don’t think you’ve done enough to cause any permanent damage. T-Dakk’s right though. This stuff is stronger than probably anything else you’ve ever done. Street drugs are nothing compared to tower drugs.”

“How much is too much?” you ask, panicking. “I only hit it once!”

“Hey now, just calm down. Everything’s fine. Don’t get all worked up or you’re gonna have a bad trip, aaannnnddddd bbbaaaaaadddddddd ttttrrrrrrriiiiiiippppppsssssss aaaaarrrrreeeeee tttthhhheeeee wwwoooorrrrrrrrssssstttttttttt.”

Her voice slows to the pace of a busted tape recorder, now sounding deeper than even T-Dakk’s voice. You think of a response, but for the life of you, you’re not able to speak it aloud. Your mouth and tongue feel swollen to the point they can no longer be used for communication. Not even grunts.

You notice too your heart’s pounding in your chest with such ferocity it hurts. You lift up your shirt to examine the problem, as if you could see the inner workings of your heart through skin and bone, and the entire process takes five times as long as it ever has before. It seems the more you tug at your clothing, the more material there is to pull up. There’s no end to it!

Suddenly, a bright jolt of electric energy pulses throughout the room as T-Dakk flips the switch on his amp, connecting everyone through this buzz of living static. You lift your head to see Gale standing there in front of you, also taking a hit from the tower flower. You only just notice it’s no longer in your hand.

“This next one is called ‘BBBBBBBllllllllooooooooooooooooooooooddddddd MMMMMuuuuuuussssiiiiiiicccccccccc,’” you hear T-Dakk say into the microphone, his voice sounding exactly as you’d imagine the devil’s to sound.

Blood Music? Did you hear that right?

The song begins and instantly your brain boils out your ears. You feel the hot sludge of grey matter leaking down the sides of your neck and you do your best to push it back inside, but it’s a losing battle.

Gale steps towards you and blows a lungful of smoke directly into your face. She’s cackling as if the two of you are in a cartoon, exaggerated and cruel. Her eyes and mouth are much larger than they should be, and they’re all flashing with some impossible inner light—the intensity pulses along with the beat of the music.

You’re not sure how much of what you’re seeing is real.

“My heart,” you finally manage to say aloud, but you’re unsure of the volume at which you’re speaking. Your ears, like everything else, work differently now. Sounds are much more harsh and intense than you’ve ever experienced before. You feel the energy riding off of T-Dakk’s ‘Blood Music’ in jarring waves and secretly fear it’ll be enough to kill you if the momentum climbs any higher than it is right now. “It’s going to… explode,” you finally finish saying. The words leak out of your mouth like vomit and spill to the floor. You feel embarrassed.

Gale miraculously finds the end of your shirt and helps you lift it over your head and off your body. There’s movement beneath the skin, right at the center of your chest, caused by your ballooning heart. She screams when she sees it.

“What the fuck is that?” she shrieks, but you don’t have the energy, or even the time, to explain what it is you’re feeling.

“Tell T-Dakk to…,” you begin to say, but before you finish, the song reaches a crescendo and your heart bursts right out of your chest. Bright red liquid sprays from the wound in an endless stream, raining down upon everyone around you. They love it. They dance inside it. They ask for more.

“Blood music,” Gale says. Then others in the crowd lean toward you, each repeating those same words: “Blood Music…” “Blood Music…” “Bloooooodddddd  Muuuussssiiiiiiccccccccccccc!”

Your vision blurs to the point you can no longer see the details in anything and only the flashing lights radiating from Gale’s ever-expanding face remain.

“BBBllllloooooooooooooooooooodddddddddddddd MMMMMMMMuuuuuusssssssiiiiiiiiiccccccccccccccc…”

Some hours later, you wake up naked on the roof of the Eighth Block Tower, shivering from the cold. Your heart has returned to your chest, thankfully, though it’s still beating in a state of panic. You look around for your clothes, but they’re nowhere to be found. In your search, you find another naked body, some twenty feet away—a woman, but you’re unsure of who it is, as her head is buried inside the mask of a blackbird. She’s also wearing a pair of wings attached at each arm, appearing as if she’s sprawled out on a bed of long black feathers. You lean down and remove the mask from her head.

It’s Gale.

You nudge her awake, hoping she’s able to recall the last few hours of your life, because the last thing you’re able to remember is the incessant chants for more Blood Music. Unfortunately, she doesn’t remember any more than you do. She sits up and tries her best to stay awake, but within minutes she’s asleep again.

The drug is still circulating inside you, but with far less intensity as before. You’re coming down, feeling sluggish and heavy, so you sit next to her to think of what to do next.

Your mind is a total blank. Not a single thought forms in the entire time you sit there. Something falls from your mouth and dances along the surface of the roof. You lean over to pick it up. It’s one of your teeth. You’re so numb that you’re not sure how you feel about it. You just keep staring at it, not knowing what to do.

Eventually, a voice speaks, breaking the silence.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Gale says, but she doesn’t seem to be talking to you. Perhaps herself. “I can’t live this way. Something’s gotta change.”

She sits up and removes the black wings from her arms, wrapping them around her naked torso like a towel.

“I’m calling Sensei,” she says, then lets out a short laugh. “Well, as soon as I find my phone, that is. I suggest you do the same. No judging, but this is no way to live. Clearly, we both could use some guidance.”

You look down at the tooth in your hand as if it will tell you exactly what you should do next, but of course it doesn’t. You’ll have to make this decision on your own.

— To call Sensei, click here.
— To wing it on your own, click here. [B13] (coming soon)