Fodder: Genesis

From up here, the people looked like ants.

Isn’t that what they say when you’re up high, looking down on everyone? I’d always thought that about society in general, though. All they did all day was scurry about to work, then eat, sleep and repeat. All day, every day.

The cold wind blasted my face as the vertigo kicked in. From this high up, I doubted anyone could see me standing on the edge of the roof. There was no panic, shouting or screaming. No scrambling to get out of the way. Just the insects going about their normal lives.

I leaned forward, looking to see if there was an obvious target. Some douchebag had parked a sports car on the street while he chatted up some young girls. Probably cheating on his wife.

That might be fun.

It was a shitty way to do it, I knew. The nice thing would be to find somewhere quiet and alone, maybe tip off the authorities so they could come and clean everything up when I was finished.

I didn’t want quiet.

I wanted to feel something. Anything.

My body betrayed my mind as I tried to take a step. Self-preservation kicked in and compelled me not to move.

It was hard to fight it, but that ground was looking dangerously appealing.

I took a step forward.

SLAM.

The door behind me slammed shut. The interruption forced me to ground myself, but I didn’t bother looking. I knew this was a possibility.

“Don’t bother. I’m not in the mood,” I said, keeping my eyes focused downwards.

“Bit of a shitty way to do it, isn’t it?” came the reply.

A woman’s voice, gradually getting louder as she stepped towards me.

I glanced around, not knowing who to expect, but certainly not this. A woman who looked to be in her early thirties, with purple hair, tattoos and piercings.

“Are you, like, a negotiator or something?” I asked her.

I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it would matter soon. Guess it was just one last mystery to solve.

“Something like that,” she replied as she stood beside me and looked over the edge. “Bonus points if you can hit the Ferrari.”

“Anything extra if I can do a flip?”

“Nah. I’m more substance over style.”

I looked down at her torn top, which was bizarrely paired with a tie.

“Clearly.”

She took a seat next to my feet and looked up at me expectantly.

“Do you mind not watching?” I asked. “I get performance anxiety.”

She smirked but continued looking up at me, purple hair blowing across her face in the wind. Not that she seemed to mind.

“Okay, what? What do you want?” I asked.

I sounded irritated, but I was actually more curious at this point.

She shrugged and continued to stare.

It was starting to get a little creepy.

“Whatever.”

I tried to see if I could override my body’s instincts and took a step. I leaned forward and looked down, feeling my stomach lurch as I did so.

“There’s another way, you know.”

I stopped and retracted my foot.

“What?”

“Another way. End result is still the same, but it’s a hell of a lot more interesting.”

“You’re not trying to stop me?”

“Why would I do that? I don’t know you. Makes no odds to me what you do.”

I stood still on the ledge for a moment. Another blast of cold air hit me, and my eyes started to water from the sensation.

“What are you suggesting, then?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a business card. She went to hand it to me, but a gust of wind caught it and sent it hurtling off into the sky.

“Oops,” she said, quickly clicking her fingers.

Then she reached into her pocket and grabbed another.

“Can’t go giving those to just anyone.”

It must have been the wind in my eyes, but I could no longer see the card that had flown away. I’d been watching to see how far it would go, but now there was nothing.

Maybe it had been blown too far away or dropped out of sight.

The whole thing had quite honestly put me off, so I jumped down from the ledge to get some shelter from the wind before taking the card.

I examined both sides of the white card carefully.

“This is blank,” I said.

She smirked again.

“For now.”

“I don’t have time for all this cryptic bullshit. What the hell is all this? Who are you?”

She stood and took a moment to straighten her clothing before looking me right in the eyes.

“You have all the time in the world, actually. Just keep hold of that until midnight tonight and take another look. If it turns out to be bullshit, then go ahead and chuck it away. You can try this again tomorrow.”

With that, the woman turned and walked towards the door leading off the roof.

I took a step forward as well.

“Don’t follow me,” she said without turning around.

I stopped in my tracks, not entirely sure why I was following her instructions. I guessed my normal default was to listen to whichever person sounded like they knew what they were doing.

The door slammed behind her, and I looked around.

What the hell did she mean, don’t follow her? That was the only way off the roof.

I caught up to the door and swung it wide open to reveal an empty stairwell. No footsteps. No noise at all, actually.

I took a moment to look around and make sure I wasn’t going mad before descending the stairs.

I remembered being thankful on the way up that I wouldn’t have to climb all this way again.

Guess I was wrong there.

I examined the card again, flexing it slightly to see if I could feel any electronics or some kind of screen inside it. It just felt like a plain card to me. Nothing out of the ordinary at all, really, other than the fact someone had forgotten to print anything on it.

Unsurprisingly, my apartment was exactly how I’d left it.

A shithole.

The ripe smell of a week’s worth of dishes and unemptied bins filled the place.

For the first time in a long while, the state of it actually bothered me.

I checked the clock.

Four hours until midnight.

Might as well do something.

By the time I was finished, the rancid living conditions I’d been putting myself through surprised even me. The smell lingered, but the window had been cracked open for a while now, so hopefully some clean air would penetrate the stench eventually. The framed pictures that were face down on the shelf remained where they were, but I at least dusted around them.

I could have done more, but there was only a minute to go until midnight.

I sat down on the sofa, card in my hand, and began to examine it once again. I must have been out of my mind to expect something to happen.

My eyes kept glancing between the card and the clock. Each second seemed to last for at least a few hours. I looked over in the corner of the room at the empty dog bed. I hadn’t the heart to get rid of it.

Then it happened.

The clock ticked over to 00:00.

There was no hesitation from the card. Black lettering bled onto its surface, fading in until it became legible.

124 Perspicuous Avenue

I stared at the card for what must have been another minute, expecting something else to happen. More instructions.

But the moment the clock hit 00:01, the letters faded again until I was left with the same boring white card.

I was hoping for something a little clearer. I was never great at being self-motivated.

Was I meant to go there? Send a letter?

I ran to my phone and used its search engine to find the address shown, expecting hundreds of results but hoping one would stand out more than the others.

Probably a self-help group or Samaritans HQ.

Just one.

One singular address in the whole world.

There was no additional information, no website or street view. Just a map location with directions.

It wasn’t far from here. Maybe an hour’s walk?

It would have been easier to drive if I hadn’t sold the car last month to pay the rent.

It may have been past midnight, but I was wide awake.

There was no way this could wait.

I grabbed a jacket and headed downstairs, using my phone to sign in to one of those bikes for hire they put around the city. I grabbed one and headed off into the night.

By the time I arrived, I was a sweaty mess.

Not just done-an-exhilarating-workout sweaty.

Avoid-that-guy-on-the-bus sweaty.

The location itself was in the middle of nowhere, down a dirt path.

I’d be lying if I said I had any expectations. None of it had made any sense, so I tried to prepare myself for any scenario.

In front of me, in the middle of the path, was a shed.

An ordinary wooden shed.

Not even painted. Just wooden and pretty old-looking.

Sitting on a camping chair outside the door was the same woman from earlier.

She didn’t move as I approached.

“Welcome,” she said.

“What is all of this?” I asked between large gulps of air.

She just smiled and shrugged.

Then she looked down at my sopping wet T-shirt.

“Biked it,” I explained. “You could have given me a lift.”

“I’m the inviter.”

“Right,” I said. “And what is it I’ve been invited to?”

She reached behind her and pushed the door open.

It swung inwards.

Weird design choice for a shed.

Inside was nothing.

Just more wooden flooring, walls and ceiling.

“So what, I just step in?”

She shrugged again.

“What have you got to lose?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but honestly?

She had a point.

And this was the most motivated I’d been in months.

I wasn’t ready for that feeling to go away yet.

I stepped inside and looked around.

Completely unremarkable.

I remembered the card and how unassuming that had been, so I decided to go along with it. I placed my back against the wall as I moved the door past me and into its closed position.

For a moment, I stood there feeling, and probably looking, rather stupid.

Then light started to pour in through the cracks in the wood.

It was accompanied by a high-pitched noise that seemed to be getting louder and louder.

The light grew brighter, like a vehicle was heading towards me at speed.

But this was coming from all around me.

Light seeped in through every conceivable crack in the shed until I had to shield my eyes. The noise was becoming unbearable. I didn’t know what to use my hands for. I placed them over my ears instead and closed my eyelids as firmly as I possibly could.

Even then, I could tell how bright it was.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

I tentatively opened my eyes.

The shed remained.

The same wooden floor and walls.

But something felt different.

I felt different.

I reached out for the door.

It opened from the other side.

Something enormous blocked the doorway.