CHOOSE YOUR OWN MINDFUCK: A Night in Eighth Block Tower (A4)
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 insist you stick together…
“Guys, come on… either we all go, or it’s not gonna happen,” you say, causing the smarter one to smirk. “Until we leave this building, the three of us, we’re attached at the hip. So, what are we doing, huh? Checking the noise or gettin’ the cash?”
They look at each other, considering their options for a moment, then one of them lifts their arm and swings at you, the handle of his gun connecting fiercely with your left temple.
You lay unconscious for quite some time.
At some point, you begin dreaming, but unlike most of your dreams, you’re not the one at the helm of this broken narrative. Instead, you’re some spectating ghost, dripping with ectoplasm, and no one seems to take notice of your haunting presence for the entirety of the dream.
The following images flicker behind your eyelids as if you’re watching some poorly edited horror movie shot directly on videotape:
A man with a bulbous bald head leans into frame and picks up an old telephone receiver, spinning the dial seven times to make a call. You hear the tinny sounds of the phone line buzzing in your ear, followed by the hammering drone of each of the numbers being dialed in. After a short pause, the line begins to ring.
“Synthe & Grey: Execution Services. Got something you need dead?” a voice answers, baritone, with a thick Cockney accent.
A cockroach skitters across the length of the bald man’s desk. He lifts his hand and manages to pin it down with his fingers on his first try.
“Uh, yeah,” the bald man says, pinching the little bug’s fat body until its sides split and its guts spurt out onto his fingers. “I’m the landlord out here at the old Eighth Block Tower. The residents are complaining about a supposed ‘infestation,’ but it ain’t as bad as they’re leadin’ on, I’ll tell you that. I suppose none of ‘em have ever lived in an apartment complex before. Roaches come with the territory. There ain’t no gettin’ rid of ‘em. Still, they keep sending in the complaints. It’s driving me mad! Can you come and spray some stuff? That should get ‘em off my back a while.”
“Well, you called the right place, pal,” the Cockney voice says. “Had you called one of the other pest control blokes, you would’ve had to call them back once a week the rest of your lives, cause they ain’t got the right cocktail of poisons to fend ‘em off for any longer than that. With Synthe & Grey, you just call us the one time. If you ever see a cockroach after we’ve sprayed our juice in your crannies, then we’ll come back at a slightly discounted rate, no problem.”
“Sounds great,” the landlord says, then lifts his fingers to his nose, snorting up every last trace of cockroach guts straight up his left nostril. “When’s the earliest you can make it out?”
“You’re in luck. We had a last minute cancellation. We can be there within the hour. You said Eighth Block Tower, right? Ain’t that that weird place that sort of glows at night? The one with all the freaks?”
The man takes a quick moment to enjoy the jolt of electricity that sparks the instant the cockroach juice hits his bloodstream. “We’re not freaks. We’ve got the same problems as you, same problems as anybody. At least we don’t talk with a funny accent…”
“So that’s how it is, huh? Do you want us to handle your bug problem or not?”
“That depends. Do you wanna get paid, asshole? Your choice. You’ve got one hour to get started before I call someone else.”
The landlord laughs in a sort of wheeze, then the line goes dead.
The scene jumps to a moment sometime later and now you’re looking down at a bustling city street just as a bright green Chevy van comes barreling through the traffic, coming to an abrupt halt just in front of the Eighth Block Tower. An oversized fiberglass cockroach bobbles violently on a spring atop the van. The words SYNTHE & GREY: EXECUTION SERVICES are sprawled across the sides of it, along with a phone number and cartoon renderings of two faces. One of the faces has a dialogue bubble attached to its mouth, along with the words, “Are you ANNOYED? Whatever it is, we’ll KILL it!” The engine rumbles as the van sits there idling. Sitting inside the vehicle are two exterminators, both in their mid-thirties, so similar in look and build they appear to be related.
“So this place again, huh, Divey?” the man in the passenger seat says, talking to the driver. The man speaks with a heavy Cockney accent as well, but it isn’t the same voice from the phone call earlier. This man’s voice is higher, more dainty. He’s wearing a pair of unzipped coveralls with a black t-shirt just visible underneath. The t-shirt sports the same image featured on the front cover of Todd’s Adventures in Slime World, some forgotten video game from the 90s.
“Nah, this ain’t the one you’re thinking it is, Rey,” the driver says. His voice matches the one from the phone call. “This ain’t the Chase. It’s Eighth Block. You know… that one we’d seen like a month ago… the one that glows that ominous green at night.”
“That ain’t the Chase?” Rey asks, looking up at the towering apartment building.
“If it was the Chase, I wouldn’t have said you was thinking of the other one, now would I?”
“What other one?” Rey asks, genuinely confused.
“Shut the fack up, Rey, and listen, would ya? This here’s the Eighth Block Tower. This is where we’re working today. Might want to double mask for this one. They say the walls are full of radiation.”
“Radiation? I think we might need three masks for that, Div.”
“Yeah, maybe so. Couldn’t hurt,” Divey says, digging into the middle console and removing a handful of paper face masks. He tosses a few to Rey. “We wouldn’t want you to get any stupider, now would we?”
Rey’s jaw falls open. “That was uncalled for. Really indecent of you, Div. If you’re gonna be a grump all day, I’m taking me headphones. I’m not in the mood to put up with your bullshit today. I ain’t having it.”
Rey leans forward and removes his Walkman and a pair of foam-covered headphones from the glove compartment. There’s a cassette tape loaded inside with a label that reads ‘Z. Stardust.’ He slides the headphones onto his head, positions the speakers over his ears, and pushes play. Divey continues to talk to Rey, despite seeing him do all of this.
The film jumps once again and now you’re moving slowly through the walls of the Eighth Block Tower. Occasionally a bug or a rat enters the frame, though despite being the only active things on screen, you pay them no mind. Instead, your eyes remain focused on the darkness ahead, the empty space in which the camera seems to be moving toward. There’s an ominous hum buzzing inside these walls, burying a small voice crying out from somewhere out of frame. The farther up the wall the camera pans, the clearer this voice becomes. “...burn right hand of men…” Just as the camera gets close enough to the source of the voice “...To Neptune, rebirth in blue…” the scene ends and you’re thrown abruptly, violently into total darkness.
And silence.
Jarringly, a new scene blazes on screen, one returning to the exterminators as they spray trails of chemicals down along the floorboards of some random Eighth Block apartment.
“They say there’s an intrusion of cockroaches somewhere in Germany who’ve become totally immune to pesticides. Nothing kills them. Nothing except the old boot. Our little enemies are gettin’ stronger, Rey. We may have to find ourselves another profession soon,” Divey says, but Rey’s in the next room down the hall, swaying his hips to the beat of “Star,” ignoring him completely.
As Divey continues his rant, Rey spots a live cockroach scurrying along one of the baseboards, attempting to keep one step ahead of the steady stream of pesticide blasting from the end of his wand. Rey leans forward and positions the wand so that it’s hovering an inch above the scudding bug, then douses it in a shower of acid. The pesticide pools until the creature is fully submerged within a puddle of it, but remarkably it only slows its pace for a second or two, then the thing skitters off, even faster than before.
“What the hell?” Rey mutters, then runs to catch up with the bug. He sprays it down again and again, all with the same results.
Rey lowers the earphones down to his neck, then calls out for Divey. Divey just happens to be walking by, just outside the bedroom door. He peeks his head inside and says, “You okay, brother?”
“Come look at this bug,” Rey says, pointing at the invincible insect. “I’ve emptied half a canister on the guy and he’s just as strong as ever. Maybe even more so. He’s one tough little buggy. Do you suppose this is some kind of… super bug… or something?”
Divey instantly looks annoyed. “Ain’t you been listening to a single thing I’ve been saying?”
“Sure I have,” Rey says, doing his best to think of a relative subject that Divey may have been talking about. “You was saying that… ah… that bugs… well, they like poison… now?”
“Nice try, Rey,” Divey says, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I even bother with you.”
“Well, shit, Div. You’re always spewing some kind of nonsense. How am I suppose to keep up with it all, huh? Me brain ain’t built like yours, brother. I don’t have room in here for all this shit.”
“This has to do with our livelihood. That don’t matter to you?”
“Sure it does! Maybe I would’ve listened if you would’ve told me it was to do with our jobs,” Rey said, then the two of them stood in silence for a few seconds. “So, what did you say? Would you just tell me already?”
Divey sighs. “I was telling you about how overseas these insects are gettin’ too powerful. They can’t be killed by poison anymore. They’ve figured a way to digest it. It don’t bother them anymore. Clearly, we’ve got the mutant buggies out here now, too. We may be out of a job soon.”
“Out of a job? What d’you mean? If anything, that means they’ll be more bugs now than ever, right? Don’t be so pessimistic, Div. Think of it as job security. This invincible shit is gonna make us rich.”
“Well, well… that’s a mighty astute notion, Rey! When did you become so clever, huh? Your big brother must be rubbin’ off on you.”
Rey smiles, but the smile quickly fades into a look of pure horror. “But if we can’t kill ‘em, Div, then won’t they eventually evolve even further? What if they get too strong, too smart, and come lookin’ for us? We’re in the business of genocide. We’ve been gettin’ cash for their corpses for years now. Surely at some point they’ll grow wise to it and karma will knock us right in the heads.”
“See, now that’s the Rey I know. Paranoid, delusional, full of fear. Welcome back, Rey.”
“I’m facking serious, man.”
“I know you are. That’s why I like you so much, Rey. You’re nothing if not genuine. You’re scared to death right now, scared of something that ain’t never gonna happen. Even if they did eventually get the brains and the brawn to hand us our asses, it wouldn’t happen till long after we’re both six foot in the grave. Evolution is too slow of a process. They may have the capabilities of being annoyed with us, but brother, but we won’t ever have to pay for our crimes against roachkind. So do your worst.”
“Hold on, d’ya hear that?” Rey asks, cocking his head slightly, hoping it will help in locating the source of the noise.
“Hear what? I don’t hear anything,” Divey says.
“It’s a sort of humming, but high-pitched… like a screaming hum… or something.”
“A screaming hum? What the fack are you going on about, huh? And you say I’m the one always spewing nonsense…”
“If you’d shut your mouth long enough, you’d hear it!” Rey shouts.
Divey furrows his brow. “Since when did you become an authority on sound, huh? Up until ten seconds ago, you hadn’t heard a single thing all morning.”
“I think it’s coming from the walls, Div. Come here and listen.” Rey presses his ear against the wall and Divey follows suit. Rey’s eyes immediately light up with excitement.
“You hear that, Div!” Rey shouts. “What on earth do you think it could be?”
Divey waves him off, as if to tell him to keep quiet. He continues to listen intently for several seconds.
“Could be the HVAC system… or a refrigerator…,” Divey says. Reynold shakes his head.
“No, no… not that. There’s another hum. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s like a sort of—”
“Screaming hum, yeah yeah… I heard you the first time,” Divey interrupts.
“They’re words, Divey. The hum… it’s coming from something small. It sounds like… like…” Rey presses the end of his index finger against his thumb and moves them both in a swirling motion. He holds it up to his ear. “Like this Divey. It sort of sounds like this…” Rey moves his swirling fingers over to Divey’s ear.
“You’re hearing that in there,” Divey asks, pointing at the wall.
“Well, it’s kind of like that… only those scratching noises are words.”
“Oh yeah?” Divey says, sounding like he’s not buying any of it. “What are they saying?”
“Ashok burn right hand of men. To Neptune, rebirth in blue fire,” Reynold says. There’s this silly mysticism running through his words, as if he’s whispering spells into a cauldron.
“Rey… you sound insane. They’re gonna lock you up if any of these normies get wind of what you’re saying.” Divey looks around, suddenly remembering just where they’re at. “On second thought, Rey, I think the folks around here would probably believe you.”
“Believe me or not, that’s what it’s saying.”
“Then how come I can’t hear it?” Divey asks.
“Maybe you’re too stupid to hear it?” Rey says, half expecting a punch in the arm, but surprisingly Divey doesn’t even acknowledge the insult.
“Come to think of it, I’ve heard a story about this sort of thing before,” Divey says. “The Taos Hum. In Taos, New Mexico, there’s this hum buzzing in the air down there and only half the residents there can even hear it. The ones who hear it are driven into madness… or something.”
“They ever figure out what it was?” Rey asks.
“Nah. Just the typical shit you’d expect them to say. Government conspiracies, radio frequencies, aliens. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I finished that article…”
“Aliens?” Rey says, holding his ears to keep the hum out of his head. “I don’t like that. I don’t like that one bit.”
“You think you’re hearing aliens, do you?”
“Well, it ain’t human, I’ll tell you that,” Rey says.
“The chances of it being alien in nature are about 0.00000001%,” Divey says, hoping to reassure him, but it seems to have the opposite effect.
“Suppose it is aliens, what would be our chances of surviving an encounter?” Rey asks.
“Well… it would have to be even less than that, now wouldn’t it?”
Panic causes the color to drain from Rey’s face. “Let’s get out of here, Div, before we become one of your statistics.”
“The job ain’t finished, brother,” he says, tapping his pesticide canister. “We ain’t even close. Now stop being such a dolt! You ain’t hearin’ no aliens!”
Rey takes a deep breath, then lifts the headphones back over his ears. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Ashok burn right hand of men! To Neptune rebirth in blue fire!”
Rey rips the headphones off his ears and tosses his walkman down the hall. It shatters against the floor.
“Now what the hell was that all about?” Divey yells.
“The words, Divey! The aliens! They was in me ears!” Rey yells back. “I thought they were in me headphones, but I still hear ‘em! It’s gettin’ even louder now! It sounds like… like a thousand voices or more!”
“Ashok burn right hand of men! To Neptune rebirth in blue fire! Ashok burn right hand of men…” The words repeat in an endless cycle.
“You’re tellin’ me you can’t hear that?!” Rey shouts.
“Why the fack are you yelling?” Divey asks, cupping his hands over his ears.
“I’m just tryin’ to speak over all the noise!” he shouts, but clearly Divey doesn’t hear any other noise.
“You’re losing your goddamn mind,” Divey says. “Tell ya what... Let’s finish this floor, then we’ll take an early lunch. I think you’ve inhaled too much of this pesticide, brother. You’re talkin’ like a proper lunatic.”
Divey yanks Rey by the collar and shoves him down the hallway, pushing him in the direction of the next apartment. Divey knocks on the door and shouts, “Exterminators! We have to spray your apartment. Won’t take but about a minute and a half.” No answer. Divey waits a few seconds, then knocks again. “Look, if you don’t let us in, then we’ve been given strict orders to open the door ourselves. The landlord gave us this here ring of master keys.” Divey removes the keys from his pocket and looks for the one that matches the apartment they’re currently standing outside of.
Still no answer. Divey locates the key.
“Okay then. We’re coming in. Fair warning,” he shouts, then shoves in the key and opens the door.
As soon as the door is opened, the volume of the bizarre chorus grows tenfold, causing Rey to fall to his knees.
“No, Divey! We can’t go in there! The aliens! The aliens are in there, Div!” he pleads, but his begging only seems to annoy Divey.
“Would you listen to yourself, Rey?” Divey says, yanking him back up to his feet. “You’ve done blown a gasket! Get a hold of yourself or else I’m gonna have to blast you one, right in the kisser!”
“Div, I know you can’t hear what I’m hearing, but I’m telling you, we can’t go into that room…”
Something catches Divey’s eye and he turns away from Rey to get a better look at it. The inside of the entire apartment is glowing neon green!
“What the hell is this?” Divey asks.
“Aliens!” Rey shouts. “For fuck’s sake, Div! Listen to me!”
Divey ignores his brother’s pleas and walks blindly into the apartment, looking for the source of the ominous glow.
“Oh wow. Would you look at this, Rey?” Divey asks, sounding bewildered.
“Fack no,” Rey shouts. “Whatever it is, it’s a trap! They’re gonna get you, Div. I’m telling you. Come back!”
“It ain’t a trap, Rey,” Divey says, calmly. “It’s… a brain. It’s a giant, green, pulsating brain. It’s brilliant.”
“A what? A green brain?” Rey asks, reluctantly taking a step inside the apartment. “Oh wow… it’s… beautiful…”
A shadow suddenly appears in the lower right hand corner of the frame, but neither of the brothers are wise to its presence. You watch in silence as the shadow shivers there for several seconds, eventually blossoming into a full humanoid figure.
It takes a step toward the brothers, and you notice right away the movement is awkward. The thing seems to be made up of thousands of tiny moving parts, all working together to achieve movement. It’s sloppy, but somehow the thing manages to keep itself together.
It takes another step closer.
This time it steps into the ominous glow of the pulsating brain, and all at once it's revealed just what it is you’re seeing: it’s a man, made up entirely of insects. Thousands of little roach bodies have rolled into one another, all working together to maintain this unusual form.
Evolution.
It takes another step closer, lifting its arms… several little roach bodies lose their grip and tumble from the elbows and forearms down to the floor, but the majority of them hold strong.
It takes yet another step closer, and finally the brothers are within reach. The bug man grabs them both by the back of the neck, and before they even have a chance to get a good look at their attacker, the thing pushes them forward with such violence that they immediately stumble, causing them to dive head first into the giant green brain.
Their bodies are consumed entirely.
“Ashok burn right hand of men! To Neptune rebirth in blue fire! Ashok burn right hand of men! To Neptune rebirth in blue fire! Ashok burn right hand of men! To Neptune rebirth in blue fire!”
The film ends.
You’re awake and sitting on the floor of the apartment you came to rob, but for the life of you, you can’t remember how you got there. Pain radiates from your left temple. You suspect you may have fallen and hit your head. You can hear the fellas digging around down the hall. You assume they’re in the bedroom, looking for the cash. You have mixed feelings about being separated from them.
— To consider your options, click here.