《Come Down》


 Chapter 1

    It¡¯s the most beautiful time of day, during the last evening of the last summer of Betty and Karl¡¯s world. They¡¯re sitting on a dirty gas-station roof, while a massive albino dragon is flying over the magical metropolis Lira. They¡¯re watching the fantastical beast melt large chunks of the city in periodical low altitude assaults. Neither of their faces show a hint of fear as bright orange light douses the city in the light of a never-ending sunset.


    Karl forms a small flame using the rune circle tattooed on the back of his hand, as well as the small amount of destructive arcane energy inherit in all human beings, to light a self-rolled cigarette. Betty is softly strumming upbeat chord progressions on her ukulele, with occasional melancholic off-key notes littered in between.


    ¡°I imagined this to be over much quicker,¡± Karl says and pauses for a second before looking towards Betty. ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    ¡°Looting looks fun,¡± Betty responds as she watches a man wearing tattered rags rob a liquor store across the street.


    A knight in cyan coloured armour turns up and threatens the criminal with a gold-plated broad sword. The thief grabs whatever bottles he can find, before throwing one of them in the knight¡¯s face and running off. Karl shakes his head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, seems kind of meaningless to me.¡±


    ¡°Meaning is gonna be pretty hard to come by at this point.¡±


    ¡°They certainly seem to have found some,¡± Karl says as he watches a crowd rally around their literal knight in shining armour. A wizard amplifies the knights voice, so that his inspirational words may drown out the cities background noises of agony.


    ¡°Brave folk of Lira. Let me applaud your awe-inspiring commitment to the defence of your home city. Whilst most have succumbed to the vices of cowardice, selfishness and greed, you, in the face of uncertain survival, have all risen to the occasion. Truly, it is in the darkest of times that our humanities light shines the brightest.¡±


    ¡°Bet the dragon fire shines brighter,¡± Betty sneers.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good speech, considering he¡¯s improvising.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± Betty rolls her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s been practicing that in a mirror since he was three years old.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what he¡¯d do. If he knew, what we know.¡±


    ¡°Probably lose his mind.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ Sounds about right.¡± Karl pauses for a moment before he continues. ¡°Hey, why aren¡¯t we losing our minds?¡±


    ¡°Not much mind left to lose I¡¯d say.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Karl says and takes a long drag of his cigarette. Betty¡¯s gotten used to his dramatic smoke pauses. ¡°Not after Hope was done with us.¡± Betty grimaces in response.


    The knight finishes his speech and his audience grabs anything even remotely comparable to a weapon as they erupt into the misguided roars of an army that has never been to war.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Oh damn, that old dude¡¯s packing brass knuckles!¡± Betty shouts and excitedly jumps up. ¡°Where¡¯d he even get those?!¡±


    ¡°Old man wielding brass knuckles versus ancient cosmic dragon.¡±


    ¡°Screw the knight, that¡¯s the kind of man that I¡¯d follow to the end of the world!¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should give it a shot. Can¡¯t be a worse leader than Hope was,¡± Karl says. Betty furrows her brows and sits back down.


    ¡°No more leaders,¡± she responds as she puts down her ukulele. She rests her head on her knees and both watch as the knight erupts into yet another speech.


    ¡°Man, he sure likes talking. Almost as much as Ho-¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± Betty interrupts him, ¡°stop saying her name.¡± Awkward silence fills the last room left in a heavily overburdened soundscape.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to shit-talk our friends, you don¡¯t want to follow a brass knuckle wielding, dragon fighting maniac grandpa into certain death. I guess we¡¯ll just sit here and watch the world end until we eventually get burned to a crisp, die of thirst or suffocate,¡± Karl responds and sighs. ¡°This is gonna be one boring apocalypse.¡± He leans back and blankly stares down the horizon.


    Betty turns her head and watches the burning cities lights dance on his face. Karl rarely smiled, but before all of this she could always see this sparkle in his eyes whenever he watched a fire. Now, faced with the biggest inferno in all of world history, his eyes remain black and his expression blank.


    ¡°Fuck that!¡± She shouts. Karl gets startled out of his thousand-yard stare and turns toward her. ¡°If the world has to end in a pointless, scary and violent shit-fest we can at least honour it with an equally pointless, scary and violent last-minute tribute to pure hedonistic joy! Instead of moping around on a dirty gas-station roof we should get out there! Let¡¯s finally fulfil our greatest dream.¡± She pauses for a moment to put emphasize on her truly inspired plan. ¡°Let¡¯s become pirates!¡±


    ¡°I am absolutely certain that I have never wanted to be a pirate in my entire life.¡±


    ¡°Not even when you were a kid?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Alright fine, so maybe it¡¯s only my dream. But still, what a great dream though! Think about it, the open sea, the fresh salt-infused wind, the absolutely unbridled freedom!¡±


    ¡°The fantasy sounds nice enough, but becoming a pirate requires a whole lot of prep time that I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve properly considered. We¡¯d have to steal a boat, find a crew¡­ And after all that, we¡¯d probably only be able to squeeze in, like, four hours of actual pirating.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure stealing a boat already technically counts as pirating.¡±


    ¡°Not if you¡¯re not already on a boat while you¡¯re doing it. That¡¯s just plain old grand theft boat.¡±


    ¡°Alright fine. No becoming pirates. Then how about¡­¡± Betty thinks for a moment. ¡°How about I finally show you my side of Lira.¡±


    ¡°Your side of Lira?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The fun side! You spent all your life studying, reading, never enjoying a single second of it!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had plenty of fun.¡±


    ¡°No you haven¡¯t! You¡¯ve never forgotten the existence of a following day in a drunken blackout, you¡¯ve never downed a random psycho-active potion just for the fuck of it, fuck, you¡¯ve never even been to a party, much less experienced the multifaceted euphoria of a properly enjoyed one! Let me show you what this city can be like, let¡¯s make our last night on earth a night worth writing songs about. A potion-fuelled, drug filled night of ultimate debauchery!¡±


    ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t know Bets. I¡¯ve never met anyone who parties as... intensely as you do. It¡¯d be like participating in an Olympic event before you¡¯d even touched the sport.¡±


    ¡°Karl, this is no time to be cautious. It¡¯s the end of the world, baby! There is literally nothing left to lose!¡± Betty gets up again and places her hands on her hips. She looks Karl in the eyes, and for a split second she spots that sparkle again. Encouraged, she holds out her hand towards him. ¡°Come on. We earned this.¡± Karl hesitates for a moment.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he finally says with a hint of a smile before grabbing her hand. ¡°Fine, I¡¯m in. Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    Betty laughs, straps her ukulele behind her back and drags Karl towards the roofs exit stairway as he flicks his burned-out cigarette butt at the cyan armoured knight below them.

 Chapter 2

    Moving to Liras streets from the gas-stations roof feels to Karl like stepping into a scene he previously only saw painted. Watching the apocalypse from above allowed his mind to disassociate, but entering the streets of the doomed world robs him of that privilege. He looks towards Betty to find some comfort in shared discomfort, but she seems entirely unfazed.


    They push through the crowd that surrounds the knight. A fervour had broken out as the knight falsely blamed a young man for the cigarette butt that fell into the back of his armour. Other people have come to the side of the accused to defend him from the royal justice, others are backing the knight. ¡°They¡¯ve split already,¡± Betty says.


    ¡°At least our group managed to last longer than this lot of self-important vigilantes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but to be fair, we were also at least three times as self-important,¡± Betty says and Karl chuckles. ¡°So, before we get started, any substance in particular you¡¯d like to try?¡± Betty asks Karl as they start walking towards the cities centre.


    ¡°Not like I¡¯m the expert here. I heard you say some great things about Golden, but to be honest I doubt we¡¯ll have much of a choice.¡±


    ¡°Oh man, you¡¯re right, it¡¯s not like most people are gonna sell during this shitstorm. There¡¯s gotta be cops all over the place. Well, then we¡¯ll just have to make do with whatever drugs find their way to us. No being picky!¡± Karl rolls his eyes.


    ¡°Fine Betty, I won¡¯t turn down drugs from strangers.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good boy.¡± The sound of a bottle breaking echoes through the street. Betty and Karl turn their heads to the source of the sound, an alleyway right next to them, and spot the man with sunken eyes they had just seen rob the liquor store. The two bottles he managed to steal slipped out of his hands and exploded on the ground.


    ¡°Fuck! All that shit for nothing,¡± he says and curses some more. Betty walks over to him. He gets startled, but calms down as he realizes that she¡¯s neither a knight nor a cop. ¡°Watch out girl, there¡¯s broken glass all over the place.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Betty responds before unstrapping her ukulele from her back, ¡°You want some help with that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think a happy tune is gonna do much good,¡± the stranger says as he steps back from the destroyed bottles.


    ¡°A happy tune always does good.¡± She takes out a piece of chalk from a dimensionally enhanced bag strapped to her belt and draws a rune circle around the shattered bottles. After sitting down next to them, she unstraps her ukulele from her back and starts playing a calm, happy melody. A few bars later, the glass shards shiver a little, before moving towards each other. She increases her speed and the shards click together, merge and form larger parts before approaching the bottle.


    ¡°Woah,¡± the man says with his mouth hanging open. Karl steps into the alleyway with his hands in his pockets.


    ¡°That¡¯s no ordinary ukulele,¡± Karl says.


    ¡°I guessed as much. Where¡¯d someone as young as her get her hands on such a powerful artefact?¡±


    ¡°Her great-grandmother was an extremely powerful and semi-sane witch. She thought it¡¯d be funny to infuse a ukulele with a ridiculous amount of constructive arcane energy. It¡¯s been passed down her family ever since, but none managed to use it as successfully as Betty here.¡± The bottles have reformed completely. Betty stops playing, straps her family heirloom on her back and hands the stranger his bottles.


    ¡°Sorry, most of the booze already leaked into the ground. But there¡¯s still enough left to get shitfaced with!¡±


    ¡°Getting shitfaced is overrated, I¡¯d rather share this with you two.¡± He offers Betty one of the bottles. She gladly accepts and takes a hefty sip before passing it to Karl.


    ¡°I¡¯m Betty by the way. This is Karl.¡±


    ¡°The names Sam. You¡¯re my knight in shining armour Betty.¡± Sam says as he extends a hand.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t insult me Sam,¡± she says and shakes his hand. Karl coughs up some of the booze and hands it back to Sam.


    ¡°This is way too little to pay back your kindness. Ya¡¯ll got any plans tonight?¡± Sam says.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Not yet we don¡¯t,¡± Betty says.


    ¡°Let me take you to this party I¡¯m heading to, I can find you a much more suitable reward there.¡±


    ¡°Is it drugs?¡± Sam laughs.


    ¡°It can be!¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Betty pumps her fists and excitedly high fives Karl and the three of them start moving. ¡°So, I take it then that you¡¯re not evacuating?¡±


    ¡°Nah. This is like, what? The fifth apocalyptic event in Lira this year? I got a job I can¡¯t afford to lose. Can¡¯t just skip town whenever a demonic hellscape portal opens up or a dragon burns down half the city.¡±


    ¡°Your boss isn¡¯t evacuating, either?¡± Betty asks.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have it much better than me. One or two lost days means the difference between rent and no rent. I could never abandon her like that, not after all she¡¯s done for me. She¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m not rotting in some cell right now.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one hell of a debt. Why¡¯d you be in a cell, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± No one ever does, when Betty is the one asking.


    ¡°Drug bust. Caught me with some Eget.¡±


    ¡°Eget?¡± Karl asks.


    ¡°It¡¯s an illicit psychologically active spell. Transforms your remaining future life-time into current stamina,¡± Betty explains.


    ¡°Minimum sentence for that shit¡¯s two years. Just cause I needed the extra energy to work my second job. I wasn¡¯t gonna let it go down like that, so I escaped. Fucked up though. Hurt a knight on my way out.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± Betty says, ¡°Bodily injury to a lawful authority. That¡¯s a ten-year minimum.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam says, ¡°I¡¯m not gonna lose my best ten years just cause of some bullshit drug charge and a glorified tin cans scraped knee. Jules, my boss, gave me shelter and a job. That¡¯s no small favour, and I¡¯m not gonna abandon her every time a football field sized dragon shows up.¡±


    They keep their conversation about the economical injustices in Lira going for a while, while they make their way to Sam¡¯s party. Their destination becomes noticeable long before its visible. Most of the town has fallen into a disturbing silence, but as they close in on the house party, sounds of joy and excitement fill the streets.


    ¡°They sound pretty happy considering they could be obliterated at any moment,¡± Betty says.


    ¡°Nothing keeps the spirit going like free booze,¡± Sam responds. Above the entrance red paint spells out ¡®End of The World Party¡¯. ¡°Plus, with all the cataclysm going on recently, people have gotten weirdly ironic about it.¡± Sam goes inside. Betty intends to follow him, but Karl holds her back.


    ¡°Betty. All these people, none of them know what¡¯s really going on,¡± he whispers to her.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t do them much good if they did,¡± Betty responds.


    ¡°Still, this feels¡­ weird.¡±


    ¡°Look, if you want to so spend your last hours on earth ruining hundreds other people¡¯s last hours on earth, go right ahead. But to me, personally, shutting up and getting drunk and high for free seems like a much better decision for everybody involved.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. Rationally, I know you¡¯re right. I just can¡¯t shake this shitty nagging feeling that we¡¯re doing something wrong.¡±


    ¡°That shitty nagging feeling,¡± Betty says, ¡°is called paralyzing, devastating guilt. To which there really is only one cure.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess. Drugs and booze.¡±


    ¡°Fuck no. Intense and painful self-reflection plus years of therapy. But since that¡¯s pretty hard to come by at the moment, we might as well give drugs and booze a shot.¡± Betty says and holds open the door for Karl.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± he begins, his mood slightly elevated by Betties quips, ¡°I guess we could do some intense and painful self-reflection while we¡¯re drinking?¡±


    ¡°Sure, we could!¡± Betty says, ¡°Or, you know,¡± She rests her arm on his shoulder and leads him inside the house, ¡°we could also not!¡±


    Once inside Betty spots Sam already chatting up one of the other party guests. ¡°Ah, there you are!¡± he shouts as they come closer. He turns to his conversation partner. ¡°Pleasant chatting with you, but I have a debt to pay,¡± he says to him before quickly turning around and nudging Betty and Karl up the stairs. ¡°Thank god you¡¯re here, dude wouldn¡¯t shut up about his party.¡±


    ¡°He was trying to get you to go to another party? One he¡¯s not even attending?¡± Betty asks confused and Sam laughs.


    ¡°No man, his political party. Wanted to recruit me for it.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you tell him?¡±


    ¡°Said I reserve political conversations for sober times, he kept on going though. You got me out of another bind there, seems I¡¯m even more indebted to you now. Let¡¯s try and find this buddy of mine, he¡¯s holding.¡±


    ¡°Easier said than done, this place is huge and there¡¯s like five-hundred people here.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s easy to spot. Kinda looks like a mix between an arcane physics student and a racoon.¡±


    ¡°I have no idea what that¡¯s supposed to look like.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, you¡¯ll know him when you see him.¡±


    They walk up the stairs to the first floor and are presented with a choice of three doors. ¡°Let¡¯s split up. Holla if you spot the booze or my racoon friend!¡± Sam opens the door the first room. Blinding red light fills the floor followed by horrifying sounds that escape the rooms grasp and pierce the threes very souls. Karl¡¯s eyes water involuntarily. ¡°Peace!¡± Sam shouts and shuts the door behind him.


    ¡°Uhh, I think Sam just entered a portal to some kind of nightmare dimension,¡± Karl says as he rubs his eyes.


    ¡°You know what they say, it¡¯s no party without a gateway to hell,¡± Betty responds as she swings open the second door. Inside there¡¯s a crowd gathered around a large summoning rune circle. A shirtless man is holding a sacrificial knife to his right hand and the people around him continuously chant ¡®Sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!¡¯.


    ¡°Oh, hell yeah, this is definitely the room for me,¡± Betty says before chanting along with the crowd as she enters the room and shuts the door behind her.


    The room falls silent. Karl slowly turns towards the last remaining door. His door. He places his right hand on the doorknob and takes a deep breath. Slowly he turns the knob and pulls the door open.

 Chapter 3

    A wall of white, thick smoke escapes the room and clouds Karls vision. He stumbles backwards, coughing, but quickly regains his composure.


    The room is dark and foggy. With his eyes still being adjusted to the brightly lit floor, he can only make out faint objects and dim lights. Not even the rooms end is visible. He slowly enters and closes the door behind him.


    His pupils dilate, allowing the faint traces of light the room provide him with to paint a clearer picture of his surroundings. It¡¯s a long hall, barely illuminated by sparsely installed dimly glowing neon lights and decorated with statues at both sides. At its end there are three wooden doors. The source of the smoke is still unclear, although its omnipresence is undeniable. Every breath Karl takes is accompanied by the very familiar feeling of smoke filling his lungs.


    Karl takes some more steps into the strange room with its frightening, almost threatening aura. Normally, it¡¯d take every fibre of his will-power to not turn on his heel and leave immediately. Karl is certainly no stranger to fleeing. But with every inch that he moves further in to the room, and with every breath that he takes, more and more of his fear is left behind. Without realizing it, his usually slouched posture changes, straightens, and he starts moving upright. He begins doubting the way he first perceived the ethereal room, soon seeing his initial characterisation of its aura as threatening as a ludicrous thought, dreamed up by a coward.


    He makes his way to the middle of the room until he realises that the statues at the rooms sides are not statues at all. They¡¯re living human beings, almost perfectly motionless. Karl¡¯s rational mind is well aware of this situation¡¯s eerie quality, and yet his emotional state disagrees. Intrigued, he watches one of the figures, a young man with classically handsome facial figures.


    The man is in a clear state of wonder, his eyes wide open and his mouth slightly agape as his gaze wanders around the room. It finally comes to a stand when he makes direct eye contact with another man, standing to his right. The two share an intense stare. Karl notices the edges of the handsome mans mouth twitching, soon forming a full, charming smile. His opposite reciprocates and their smiles slowly transform into giggles, which again transform into roaring laughter. Karl is confused by this sudden change, but can¡¯t help but join in. The joyous thunder slowly fades as their laughter is replaced by their previous expressions of quiet wonder.


    The handsome man takes a step towards the man he¡¯s facing. Again, his opposite reciprocates. More steps follow. Karl is unable to tell whether their movements were lightning quick or in slow motion. The two men seem to move completely beyond the realm of time, and yet, eventually, they meet. Their faces are mere inches apart from one another. Karl suddenly feels as if he is intruding in something very private, and yet he¡¯s too enchanted to look away.


    The less handsome man places his hand gently on the handsome mans face, before slowly (or quickly?) moving it lower. He grips the man¡¯s shirt and elegantly pulls it over his head, revealing his bare chest. The elevations and ravines of his body, barely made visible by the dim light, remind Karl of desert dunes in their perfect smoothness. His muscles aren¡¯t particularly large, in bright light they¡¯d probably be only faintly visible, but something about the light, or the room, makes even the barest curves, dentures and hills on his body stand out. Karl finds it extremely aesthetically pleasing, not in a sexual manner (although he doesn¡¯t mind the company of men), but in a pure sort of appreciation for the human form.


    The two men kiss and Karl realises the voyeuristic nature of his behaviour. The handsome man looks at him and raises an eyebrow as his partner kisses the side of his neck. Karl, unsure whether the raised brow is meant as an invitation or an accusation, opts to respond by raising both of his hands in front of his body. A gesture which can be understood as both a polite decline or an apology. Other curiosities await him, and besides, he needs to find booze and return to Betty.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    How long has he been in this room anyway? A minute? Ten? He decides not to waste any more time, check the next rooms and then head back. Karl understands the debilitating effect decisions can have when you give them time to enlarge themselves in your head, so instead of considering which door to enter next he barges through the rightmost without giving it a second thought.


    Karl finds himself in an even darker room than before, seemingly devoid of any light at all. He turns arround and puts his hand back on the doorknob, intending to leave and try one of the other doors, but then he stops himself. There is something else in this room besides darkness. A familiar, yet unplaceable sound. He turns his head away from the door. The sound is coming from the end of the corridor. His hand leaves the cold doorknob.


    He walks along the long hall, towards the curious noise. It gets louder with every step he takes and soon he manages to make out individual sounds, a repeating pattern and, finally, a melody. A faint melody, one that isn¡¯t sung, or played, or picked. A melody hidden behind a wall of sound, buried beneath beats, waiting to be found.


    He opens his eyes, without being entirely certain when he had closed them. While his eyes were closed, the bare darkness had been infiltrated by static lights, white and tiny, like stars, placed alongside the walls. They slowly fade in and out and, as Karl looks at them more, he realises that they are not static at all. Moving up and down, side to side the lights all dance together, in the rhythm of the mystifying music. Karl, intrigued by the magical dance, sits down in the corridor to watch the lights entrancing movements. He tries to understand their dance moves, but whenever he looks directly at an individual light its movements slow down, often coming to a complete stop. Their dance only exists in their plurality.


    Why was he here again? He remembers sitting down, a cold doorknob, a pair of enchanting lovers and¡­ searching for something. Some kind of racoon-man? The more he thinks the less he understands.


    The lights stop dancing, have they ever danced at all? They form peculiar patterns, patterns which Karl recognizes, patterns which remind him of things he once knew, but now can barely comprehend. At first, the racoon he needed to search for. It seems he has found it, or it him. It¡¯s been in the sky all along, always the last place you look.


    The racoon disappears and is replaced by a flame. The image soothes Karl, although he isn¡¯t sure why. The fire flickers for a while before sizzling out. Its smoke remains and quickly transforms into a woman¡¯s face, someone very familiar to him. He stares intensely at the figure, which refuses to take a clear form. Something about it triggers a reaction in his mind, an incessant thought that just won¡¯t let go. There¡¯s somewhere he has to be, somewhere he has to go. But where?


    He wanders aimlessly through the darkness, trying to orient himself by the volume of the music, but it stays constant whether he moves forward or backwards. Soon he has difficulty even differentiating between forwards or backwards. Where was he going again?


    The music that¡¯s playing, which used to enchant him, now terrifies him. He understands that something is very, very wrong, but can¡¯t even begin to grasp what. His thinking has completely drifted out of his control and is taking increasingly abstract shape to the point where he isn¡¯t thinking in words anymore. Any attempt at forming words which describe his thoughts is utterly laughable. He breaks down on the floor as he realises that even his own identity has slipped away. Karl, Karl, his name is Karl, but what does that mean? What is Karl? Where is he?


    He looks up at the sky for answers. To his surprise, the stars have not changed their pattern, it¡¯s still the oddly familiar face looking down on him. The sight lifts his mood instantaneously, and soon his body follows. No matter where he is, or what he is, somebody needs him. As long as he keeps walking in the same direction, he has to find something.


    Steps become meters; seconds become minutes. Frequently, he feels his determination waver, as he loses his concentration and his thoughts slip away, but every time his eyes wander back to the sky, back to that face, and he keeps on walking.


    Eventually, a flickering red light becomes visible on the horizon. A fire? No matter. Change is progress. He walks faster, breaking into a full sprint. The music is beautiful again, how could it ever not be? The red light becomes brighter and brighter, forming flames and sunrises, as he spots a wooden door engulfed by it. He sprints, faster and faster towards the door.