Competition: Nameless #15 - Anonymous

:Togobacktothefirstchapterasitwere...Remember,youwereleavingaclubthatnightthroughaside

exitontoanalley.OneofourDeliriumsinterceptedyou.Heaskedyouaquestion,whichapparentlymade

quiteanimpressionuponyou,hegaveyoua'taste'.Doyourecall?You'vebeenonmysideofthingsever

since.Stillareinfact.MyrealnameisSiekanbytheway.:

A movement at the side of her neck, feeling of an ever so slight suction of removal there, like a departing kiss. Then, an awful moment of emotionally tearing, spirit plummeting loss. Her knees buckled, strong hands supported her. She turned her face to this new player.

It was club boy.

The dread trinity must have retreated, she sensed they were further away now, distanced.

He held up the stone.

:This,whatitcando,iswhatit'sallabout.Itssweetpromiseandthreat,themarvelsandterrorsitcan
deliver.Andwe;theagentsofitspurpose.:

Another stream of words into her skull, garbled by oneness. She gained the gist but not the detail.

He looked at the smooth grey stone himself, into the gently swirling mist capture that adhered so closely to it. Then those clear brown eyes were back upon her.

:Thepropofyourillusion.Theclosestyoucametoitsactualfunctioningwasthesenseofaneedle'sbite.
Youthoughtofitasaneedle,asyringe.But,nowthatyouknowoftheStoneyoucanperhapsperceiveit
tobethesourceofyourlittleadventure.: He turned it in his fingers as they both stared at it.
:ThePurveyance,TheJunkieStone,SweetLeaving,ThePhantasus,TheMorpheum,TheGrail,itisknown
byquiteafewnamesasisoftenthecasewithnarcogenicsandpsychopharmacopeia.:

Then the stone was gone, into a pocket of the grey wool greatcoat he wore.

She saw, past the three watching horrors over there (the dead junkie girl now cradled the dead boy child), the street, her surrounds, looking very grey and dim, through a misty fog that must have settled on the city while she was otherwise distracted.

She looked down at herself, her clothing was all intact; no blood, no birth slime.

:Youhavebeeninmydomainfor...quitesometimenow.Unfortunately,youhavehadabadreactionto
alittletestdosethatwegaveyou.Butitwasagoodtestasitturnsout.Youpassed.:

Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled away a few metres on his black motorcycle boots, stylishly frayed blue jeans and black t-shirt evident through the open coat.

She left the wall.

"But ... Why?"

"That will take a little longer to explain, and I'd rather not do it here in an in-between. Someone coming I'd rather not meet."

He looked about their increasingly foggy surrounds, smiling no longer, spoke more quietly. "The Karolin. You know her as The Trashwife. Whenever she gets my vibration she trails me." Siekan regarded Leah side on with a crow gleam in his eyes. :Oh,she'snotthealtruisticsaintthatshewantsyourlottobelieve.Shewantssomethingtoo.Every
bodywantssomething.Andwantingunfulfilledisneedingandneedingunfulfilledisyearning.
Andyearning...isamarketplace.:

Then the skull voice seemed closer, almost whispering.

:Therearedealersindesires.Tradersindreamsandnightmares.Essenceforessence.Coinoftheunrealms.:

He cocked his head at her.

"All will be explained, if you take the next step with me."

"To where?"

"To the Dream Dens."

"Who are you?! What are you?!"

In a casual voice he replied. "We are the Sorien. Dream wranglers in the employ of The Night Brethren."

She still couldn't grasp this. Her mind was pawing at it like a large, bizarre machine she was trying to find the shape and function of in a pitch black space.

He frowned. "Still, I wonder, if we can leave the weight of tongues behind yet?"

Then - it was in her head again -

:Undertheinfluenceyouhallucinate.Buteachhallucinationhasalife,orlives,ofitsown.Foraminorexample,
themerestecho...thoughtheStonewasfirmlyatyourneck,bothofyousuckingateachotherlikenewlovers,
youthoughtyouhadbeeninjectedwithasyringe.Thereforeitfell,discardedtotheground,thereforeyouheard
itclatterthere.WhilststilltheStoneclungtoyouexchangingdelightsanddamnations.:

He came closer still, that internal voice softer now.

:Youareoneoftheveryrarefew.Yourespondedbadlytoastandard,measureddose.Thatwasthefirst
sign.Youhallucinated,youjourneyedthroughyourillusions.Yet,someofwhatyouimaginedyouactually
createdinknownspace.TheDeliriumyoubirthed,there'ssymbolismforyou,thedeadgirlandbaby,
theycanroaminanyrealm,playinandoutofthebubblesnow.Youare,whatyouroneswouldcalla
dreamweaver.Essenceassistedyouwovethemoutofwhatyouwouldinterpretasnothing,outofthe
basematerialsofuntime,mouldedfromthesandandtearsofasubconsciousshorelinethat,inStonesleep,
youwashedoverlikeawave.Theyareyourfigments,yourTulpamare.:

"Mine?" Her voice small, childlike.

:Yours,ohnightmother.Itwasyouwhobirthedthem,tohaveandtomould.Toplaynowintheweftand
weaveoftheslumberofothers.Ohwhatyoumightfashionundertheinfluenceofother'smokes'rarer
essences...:

He drew in deeply of the grey air. His eyes fair sparkled.

Anger flared in her. Fists clenched she moved towards him.

:Jesusifoneofyoubastardshadapproachedmeasadealerwitha -
She scratched double quotation marks in the air
:'new'trip'Stoneforthestoner',Imostlikelywouldhavetriedit.AsitstandsforallI
know "you mean to harm me, you want me dead or insane."

"Au contraire. I want to employ you. I want you to work for me."

That stopped her in her tracks.

"The conditions are excellent, and the benefits - " with a smile he cast his arms wide. "Out of this world."


(Loveless)



(Note: Due to the ricochet of unforeseen circumstances, Rosaleen Love could not add to the 'Nameless' concept. Another Gun Crow has filled the saddle and brought this pony home. We thank Rosaleen Love for agreeing at the start to help stitch this Chimera together. S.S.)