Last night's epic 'alternate reality' (which I'm about to share) might be reminiscent of 2007's 'Attack of the Giant Squid', but some key differences are worth mentioning up front. First, not as silly; as far as mediums go, this one is closer to an Xbox game than a cheesy horror flick. Second, it 'stuck around' longer - I was still partially in the reality through lunch today. Finally, sorry - no one I know was in it this time, and embellishing this one might wreck it...EPISODE 1: THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE
The child was obviously upset. Stuck on this never-ending staircase like all of us, hour after hour, she was tired - exhausted, really; the infinity of the spiral drained all hope. I had watched the blondish grade-schooler quietly for the past few minutes as she ran upward out of sight, then downward again, sure there must be an end somewhere. Now she was screaming as if being chased, and hurling herself down the winding steps with no regard for the countless others who blocked her path.
Her terror was contagious; the effect general panic. A grown man screamed, "Did you hear that?!" as pale others threw themselves over the green railing. Some seemed to see and hear tormenters while others, like myself, did not. My own sense of dread had increased steadily, however, as the reality set in: there were no doors, no exits. The shadowed hallways off the staircase had all been searched. Instinctively, we moved en masse - some driven hurriedly by invisible horrors, others just following. Down was the inevitable possibility.
Finally, there was a bottom. A vast, tiled floor that shone, but reflected nothing. It seemed we were in a sort of museum warehouse; the dingy, slatted ceiling panes, inestimable stories above us, did little to illuminate faceted balconies which might once have been elegant.
As the herd of others fanned out around me, I found myself toward the front of a group of 50 or so. We faced a short, flawlessly-groomed man wearing sun-glasses and a freshly-pressed Armani."Show us the exit," I asserted. The fear had grown to fever-pitch now; tangible, it encircled us like a pack of hungry wolves.
"Yes, yes - PLEASE!" howled the crowd behind me, moans rising like monastic chants.
The suit-man seemed to hide a twinkle (or perhaps a ruby glow) behind his sun-glasses as he answered with an air of indifference, "There is only one exit." We all saw it now, directly behind him, lined with flashing red bulbs. Beneath the sign was a green, wooden barn-door. He moved toward it with visible affection, cautioning indifferently, "All we have available today is this Cretaceous exhibit. If you are courageous enough, you may enter." He slid it open.
Immediately, two gigantic green lizards appeared, entwining themselves with the bottom-most part of the curved stairway railing nearby. As others dove toward the opened exit, I found myself hanging by my foot from the tongue of one of the lizards. The blood rushed to my head as they swung me back and forth from railing to railing, enjoying their game - with innumerable onlookers watching from the herd on the never-ending stairs.Had the lizards been hungrier, perhaps my journey would have ended then and there. But soon, with a firm kick to the jaw of one of the great creatures, I was dropped - and flew to take my place in the last of the mad rush toward the barn-door...
...Stay tuned for Episode 2: The Cave on tomorrow's post.
