Come In, Come In
An(other) offering to the Void.
Chimes echoed, sporadic and chasing, with a spin of colour across grey. Shadows forced to play with a kaleidoscope of glittering diamonds, spirals; sequinned and bright. Hollow darkness crept across worn tiles, dripped over balconies long deserted, through propped open doorways and sealed windows. In the heart of the sprawling shopping complex, a towering full-height chamber tried to reach the sky and failed.
Windows smeared with brambles and grit.
The melodic peel of the music box was a siren to the webbed black, the stygian gloom both repulsed and intrigued by the sudden arrival of such disturbance. Of sight and sound. The whirl of multi-coloured lights and distorted piano.
Drained of water, rust lingered in the shallow pool and moss clung to the surrounding jagged rocks. Plastic plants had faded, had drooped with the accumulation of dust. The jets which had once forced air to provide an ambient hum, a gentle ripple, calcified. Yet, in the midst of this oasis was a vintage spinning-top; paint chipped and metal dented. The gyration unstable, the tune discordant, the beamed rainbow spat from its pointed lid drunken.
It illuminated the grimy windows and flaking paint, it caressed the curling posters and empty tables, vacant chairs. It spoke to the nude mannequins abandoned in shop displays, to the open tills, to cables searching for connection. An urgent code whispered amongst discarded papers and imbibed bottles.
A plea as quick to end as it had been to scream.
⁃•⁃• ⁃⁃⁃ ⁃⁃ • / •• ⁃•
⁃•⁃• ⁃⁃⁃ ⁃⁃ • / •• ⁃•
‘What the fuck was that?’ Simeon asked, breath caught.
Frustrated, she frowned; long hair shrouding them both, her back curled and hands drifting to rest on top of the passenger seat. ‘Really?’
‘Lara,’ he coaxed, fingers digging more firmly into her waist. One hand tracing higher to tip her closer again, a kiss capturing her lips. An apology offered.
‘There were lights,’ he explained huskily, groaning with the circle of her hips against his, ‘and music, didn’t you hear it?’
‘I was a little busy,’ she replied, eyes on his. The edge of release still distant, even as she tried to recapture their rhythm, tried to find the fullness she craved. Parked in the empty forecourt, the car’s windows ran with steam, handprints on the glass.
‘Lara—’
‘You asked me here,’ Larissa said, a sharpness to her tone despite the smile, ‘you wanted me to be here, you wanted this.’
‘I—’
‘You wanted this,’ she repeated, her curls brushing the roof of the car, ‘and I came here, for you. Do you have any idea how fucking uncomfortable it is to crouch over you like this?’
‘Lara, I just—’
She placed both palms on his chest, pushing herself off him to the driver’s seat despite his protests; how Simeon flinched at her departure and his words choked in his dry throat. Larissa rolled her eyes. ‘Like you know how it feels,’ she muttered.
Lifting his hips, he shuffled back into his clothes and avoided her as she re-dressed, acknowledging the moment had been broken. With colour blooming over his face, he turned to her and chewed on his lip. ‘I try—’
‘Do you need a map?’
He cursed, one hand combing through his hair. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘I know.’ She exhaled, eyes closing and neck arching.
Silence descended.
Ominous and thick, it scraped over their skin, through their scent, into their lungs. Beyond the decreasingly fogged glass, concrete and stars were framed by the window, with tendrils of creeping weeds beckoning from the crumbling façade of the gas station.
A burst of colour radiated from the domed glass of the mall. It drew an undulating, marbled image over the dove-grey clouds; moonlight refracted.
‘There!’ Simeon pointed, his eyes widening.
Unhurried, Larissa turned to the view, her gaze tracking the surroundings and narrowing to analyse the vista, to concentrate on any possible sound. The early notes of pins plucking untuned lamellae floating from afar, yet vibrant.
The radio crackled, static tuning to the piano but almost a whole note behind. Disjointed and making the melody even more unsettling.
‘The fuck?’ Simeon’s chest heaved as a trickle of ice seemed to dip down his spine.
Holding up both hands, Larissa proved she had not touched the engine, had not turned on the power. The car still, the increasing volume of the keys stroking the cylinder’s teeth combined with the display caressing the sky. And mixed into the bell-like chimes was a rhythmic code, a pulse which begged, pleading for them to come in and play.
⁃•⁃• ⁃⁃⁃ ⁃⁃ • / •• ⁃•
⁃•⁃• ⁃⁃⁃ ⁃⁃ • / •• ⁃•
The light died the moment they crossed the threshold. It had taken time to traverse the weeds and broken flags, to prise open the automatic doors. The locks corroded, the mechanism releasing a flurry of orange flakes when they forced the heavy glass open. Stacks of papers littered the rough matting across the entrance, the logo of the mall scuffed and stained with rainwater. The cracked glass of the side panel marked with mould.
It was cold. Any lingering heat from the car, from their bodies, was rapidly dissipating; Simeon clutched at his padded coat and pulled it more tightly around his frame. His breath formed white vapour before his mouth. Beside him, Larissa smoothed down her black jacket and checked the pockets without breaking stride.
Without moving her attention from the vacant space ahead.
Remains of stock, of items not deemed worthy to pack, to take, were occasionally visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows and gaping doors. Through the security bollards, now unlit and inattentive.
Each store, each vendor, a fragmented mausoleum.
Passing by, the glass steadily chased them; panels cracking from the corners and mapping the same pattern as the music. The code a signal and a warning. One exhaled in time to their steps, to their breath. A sharp thud resonant. His boots grinding the shattered glass ever smaller when he turned to locate the source of a disturbance which broke through the music.
Finding nothing.
He tensed, looking over to Larissa and amazed by how calm she still appeared.
‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he commented, jaw tight and pulse quick.
‘Of course you will.’
‘Lara, I mean it,’ he continued, extending his pace so he could get ahead of her. Glancing around he then twisted to face her and walked backward, his hand out to her. ‘Lara, please, I know I screwed up, but the lights and music freaked me out.’
‘Of course they did.’ She did not take his hand, her eyes roving the empty balconies above them as they continued further into the gloomy mall. Registering the fracturing of the glass, of the tiles behind them.
‘I know you’re pissed.’
‘What gave it away?’ Lara’s focus shifted, a glint of crimson pulsing in the darkness which made her lips tip up into a smile. The music box continued to lure them deeper, the light-show dancing unseen but hinted at beyond the shadows.
‘Things will change, I promise.’ He was no longer sure if his heart was taut due to the eerie surroundings and weird lights, the distorted melody, or if it was because of this reconnection, this new opportunity. Simeon knew he needed to do more, that his tentative attempts to prove how he felt were making her feel used. ‘I do love you, you know.’
Lara bit her tongue, relieved the creeping dark kept her partially hidden from his scrutiny.
‘Lara!’ He curled his fingers to his palms, fists at his thighs. ‘Will you fucking talk to me?’
‘What do you want me to say?’ She paused, eyes meeting his. With her combat boots, she remained at a disadvantage, her head tilting up in order to secure his gaze. ‘That everything’s okay because we fucked?’
‘That wasn’t my intention—’
‘You drove us here,’ she interjected, ‘what did you think’d happen?’
‘Not that.’
‘So you didn’t want to fuck?’ She cocked her head, scoffed. ‘Though seeing as how neither of us got any kind of satisfaction out of it, maybe, technically, we didn’t.’
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Simeon sighed, both hands going to his head and rubbing through his hair, down his face. ‘I wanted to talk, to try and explain.’
‘And now is the perfect time for that,’ she hissed, shoving past him to continue toward the enticing melody. Her shoulder against his upper arm, Larissa forged a path through the rubble and ash; remnants of sporadic fires lit by those who had taken up brief residence years earlier. Her eyes reflected the first glimpses of colour as it spilled from the central hub.
Simeon’s feet broke through the music, one hand out to grip her arm, only to skid to a halt when the music jarred. A cacophony which seemed to stick. One note repeatedly incomplete. His fingers sliding from the thick fabric to fall by his side.
Familiar fabric. Familiar clothing. Familiar stance.
His chest evidence of the erratic shudder of his breath. Memory freezing him, scent soured by copper and smoke, his limbs providing a ghost of battle, his mind sharing the images of defeat. A weariness which scraped talons through his flesh. Which dug below his teeth, brought every nerve alive and bright.
In the continued scream of the single note, Larissa turned back. Her silhouette bathed in the dappled shifting shades of prismatic colour, her body straight and proud. Slowly, she ran her hands over her curves, her tongue rolling over her lower lip, as anticipation shivered through each cell, each synapse. Reaching her thighs, she drummed her fingertips against the cotton; dash dot dash dot, dash dash dash, dash dash, dot, dot dot, dash dot.
Over and again.
Her blood roared with it. Her eyes flooding with jet.
The crescendo of breaking glass adding weight to the melody, sucking in the surrounding air and crack of thunder which drummed through the sky.
‘What the fuck,’ he breathed, voice low, thready.
‘Do you remember, my love?’ She took a step forward, her eyes hooked into his and holding him still. Preventing him from turning away. Preventing him from daring to step forward.
Simeon swallowed, his stomach flexing with anxiety. Around them, music swelled and colours spun more rapidly, flecks of dust and webbed strands shook.
‘Do you remember?’
His lips parted but he could not voice the words which branded his tongue.
‘I asked you to come in,’ she continued, her tone low, sultry. ‘I begged you, I screamed for you to come in. I needed you to save me.’
Above them, the glass dome began to splinter.
‘I lay there, howling for you.’ Larissa’s hand moved to her pocket, dragging a blade from it and flicking it open. ‘I needed you, and you never came.’
‘Lara… what’s… I don’t—’
‘You don’t what?’ She stroked the squared-edge of the tanto knife along his jaw.
Tender.
‘I tried.’
‘You tried?’ Her hand twisted, the blade piercing flesh.
He wailed.
‘Maybe you should have tried harder,’ she taunted, stepping back.
The trail of crimson dripped to his collar, his fingers smearing it before he brought them more readily into the light. ‘It’s impossible,’ he whispered.
‘Impossible?’
‘There were too many, it was too—’
‘Too hard?’ Her head shook. ‘Too hard to fight for me?’
‘I tried.’ Simeon frowned, his mind consumed by image after image. The smoke, the gunfire, the yells, the mistakes in the intelligence they had received. The map worthless. The location too challenging for the equipment they had available. He had fought, he had taken out as many as he could, until the lights flared in his sights and the blow had delivered him to the black.
Until all he heard was music and muffled screams.
Radio static.
And Lara… she…
The empty apartment. The half-packed boxes, the plans, the promises.
His mouth hinged open, the pain from the wound ignored. ‘Lara, how… how are you here?’
‘That’s your question?’
‘How did you get out?’ He stepped forward, the strange change to her eyes dismissed with the urgency of reaching her side, of wanting to wrap her in his arms once more. To take her back home, the home they had begun to make together before.
To make up for how badly he had let her down.
‘I didn’t.’ She smiled, wicked, and spun the knife in her hand as the dome collapsed.
This is my offering to the Void, from the prompt provided by the
.
While the characters completely changed where it was heading part-way through my first draft, I trusted the process and had a lot of fun creating something outside of my usual genre. Thank you for the provision of a challenging and entertaining set of parameters to work with. And thank you for your consideration.
Just read this. Your writing is cinematic. The movement from the shopping mall, eerie and abandoned, to the kids in the car was perfect. I saw it like a camera spinning round them both as he comes to a disturbing realisation. And then I realise what he was actually doing in the car and think this is genius!
Your writing is so good! I hope the void liked your offering, but I know I did! Keep writing, fellow writer!