Curate, connect, and discover
(TW a lot of blood, slight suicidal thoughts, and unsettling imagery)
Tang knew he was no longer in his bed. The calm darkness was replaced with an atmosphere of suffocation: like if he were to move even an inch, he would trigger something to happen. Everything just felt wrong.
He already knew this wouldn't end well for him. Every time he ended up in this dreamlike state, it always ended up in him getting dragged some way or another. He didn't think he could handle something like that again. Not right now.
But he also knew whatever was in store for him would always begin eventually; no matter what he did, something always happened to him. So, he decided instead of sitting still with his eyes closed like a sitting duck, he would try to figure out where he was first, at least.
So then, he slowly opened his eyes to a strikingly blank room. A very different start to most of his dreams. A steril, white space greeted him; the room had no windows and yellow fluorescent lights. The bland seats and decor didn't take away from the emptiness he felt from this place.
The room felt suffocating. He didn't know if he could keep still. He couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, a door opened to his right, and a tall man with a white coat walked out steddily. His footsteps were silent, and his badge was weirdly in focus with the letters MSH spread across its side in golden ink. Was there a door there before? I didn't think...
But before he could continue his train of thought, the doctor(?) spoke to him curtly. "I'm afraid he had lost too much blood. We couldn't find the rest of his leg, so we couldn't even try reattachment without a donor. We tried our best to keep him stable, but we weren't able to save him." The voice was muffled: as if it were underwater.
"...What?" Tang asked hesitantly. He really didn't know what he's doing here in the first place. Also, he didn't even know anyone who was in the hospital to dream about! The last thing he remembers was his quiet walk to the library and...
Barely anything had happened after that, with the norm of setting up shop at the library, and then lounging around with a few people checking out the occasional book. Everything was fine! The last thing he even remembered from work was rambling and sharing comics with... Allan.
Allan, Allan.... what happened? I dont know why I keep thinking about him...
Something horrible suddenly hit Tang's nose, causing him to cough a few times. A sickening smell of copper and rot started coming from the door. He shot his head towards the source and saw how it was now mangled and covered in red splotches. Blood gushed out from under it as the crimson liquid encompassed the entire checkered floor.
Tang was all but frozen in place as all he could do was stare in horror. Then everything came rushing back like a punch to the gut. Blood had slowly dripped down onto the parking lot and stained its path a striking red. The blank look in his eyes as he was rolled away to who knows where-
Oh my god, ALLAN!
Tang then sprung out of his chair and rushed past where the doctor used to be, splashing the red onto his pant legs as he ran without care. As soon as he made it to the rotting door, he slammed it open and saw many nurses standing eerily still, parting for him and making a straight path ahead down the long hallway. Their eyes were blank as they stared into his head.
But he didnt notice. All he could think about was running. Getting there in time before something happened. Getting there before they were gone. Getting there before they STOPPED BREATHING-
He could feel the red slowly creep up his ankles. As he kept running faster and faster, the blood slowly rose higher and higher with him. The nurses surrounding him began to wane as the walls got closer and closer. They seemed almost like statues.
That was until Tang saw it at the end of the long hallway. A hospital bed holding a thin figure with a slowing heart rate. The slow beeps echoed throughout the hall. The remaining nurses around him then started to melt into crimson mush as their eyes pierced into his back.
Tangs eyes widened, and he somehow forced himself to go faster. "Allan! Allan, please respond!" He pleaded, continuing his sprint to the still figure. The shapes of its body remained eerily still and unresponsive to the noise.
No. No, no, no. Not again. I can't have this happen again. No. You have to get up. Please.
"Please get up, Allan! I know you're in there! Just wake up!" Tang yelled as he got closer and closer. The red on the floor was now rushing against his legs while rising faster and faster.
Up and up it got as Tang kept running for what seemed like an endless hallway. The blood was up to his calves at this point, but nothing was hindering his descent in the slightest.
That was until something tried to grab onto his pant cuff from under all the red. Tang didn't notice the slight tug at first, too busy putting one foot in front of another.
That was until more tried to do the same.
FUCK. Why now why now why now!?!?!? He had finally noticed after the hands lifted above the murky crimson surface that were trying to grab onto more than just a pant cuff.
The hospital bed was now nowhere in sight; it had faded from view. Now it's just an endless hallway full of blood and shining red hands grabbing at him from under the bloody floor.
His stress levels had hightened as the blood began to rush against his legs, causing more force to push him back into the hands. Even through his hysteria, Tang knew he couldn't keep the pace for much longer. More and more hands kept slinking up from the crimson depths that he doubted if he could even make it to the next step.
And he was right.
A sudden burst from the ground threw Tang and a wave of red back towards the now hundreds of shining hands. He landed on his back as he was blinded by the crimson liquid. The shockwave of red flew over him and he was submerged; he choked on the metalic substance as he was thrown further and further back.
When he was finally dropped harshly onto the bloody concrete floor, the hands had disappeared, and all that was left was him, the red hallway, and the thing in front of him. Blood dripped from his brow as he looked up to what had thrown him back.
And now he wishes he had kept his eyes closed. He didn't know what he was looking at, but he knew that it was dangerous. The humanoid figure stood floating above the gap in the ground with a continuous buzzing, which was the only thing he could hear.
The area where it came from was now stretched beyond recognition; the floor had been splintered badly where the thing stood. The red now rushed forward instead of against him, slowly pouring into the new hole that goes to... somewhere he doesn't want to know.
Tang could feel it rush past him and lulling forward, though the force never moved him even an inch. It felt more like a familiar breeze than gallons of blood rushing forward into some vacant void. His breaths were slow and deliberate as they echoed in his ears.
He could've collapsed right then and there if he could. The red ran out through the hole, and all that was left were puddles instead of the hulking mass it used to be.
But something just always took away any peace he had. Before he could even think of closing his eyes, the figure in front of him burst open with a loud bang. "AHHH!" Tang had yelled in surprise as the pieces flew over him.
Wait, flew?
He quickly looked back to where the body had been before. The top half is completely gone and buzzing loudly with something crawling around the figure.
You have got to be kidding me... he thought, exasperated. He could see each and every individual bug on the body; everything glowed a soft orange that burned into his gaze.
Tang was tired. Tired of these stupid dream sequences, tired of whatever God decided to make his real life hell, and tired of how he wasn't able to stop any of it. Everything went on without him. Nothing would change if he were gone. Nothing would be different now than if he had just disappeared under that rubble.
A sudden woosh from in front of him was all the warning he got before swarms and swarms of orange surrounded him. They crawled along his clothes, whispered into his ears, pulled him up and forward.
His heartbeat echoes through his head as he suddenly knows he had moved. Now he was falling. Falling and falling through the endless void under his dreams. Nothing would stop his descent. Nothing would be there for his two fall onto. No one was coming for him. He closed his eyes.
...
...
...
He suddenly felt warmth surround him. A solid surface under his weight. Something had caught him.
Tang could feel the surface move, bringing him up and out of wherever he had been before. The air felt lighter, almost as if the world was encompassed in the suns rays.
Yet everything still felt restless. An anticipation so great is glowered on the prison itself.
Prison?....
Suddenly, an unwelcome voice entered his head.
Yes. Why don't you open your eyes for me? I've been waiting for something like this, you know.
And Tang didn't know why he followed along. Why he felt compelled to open his eyes and look forward. Yet he did so without hesitation.
He was in the palm of its hand. The orange, glowing hand that held him like a delicate flower. Dark shackles were attached to its wrists, slowing its movements.
Yet that didn't stop it from looking down onto him with its big, beady eyes. It seemingly looked into his soul, seeing through him with an almost smug air around it. The cicada head and the multitude of wings behind it just added to the unrealness of the situation.
But then it just smiled, or what could even be considered a smile for something like that.
You're perfect.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the first time in a month, Tang felt well rested. He eyes were glued shut with exhaustion, yet his mind felt clear. His memories if the dream felt foggy, yet calming and nostalgic.
He had checked the time on his dying phone and even found out that he had gotten up at a reasonable tike for once! Given, it was only 7:00 AM, but this was better than usual.
Then that peace, his so fragile peace that seemed to always get broken every chapter, got shattered when the smell of smoke entered his nose.
That got him up and out of bed as he quickly threw off the sheets and saw how the edges of his blanket had been burned slightly. The wisps of ash flew up and out the open window; a slight breeze flowed through the room, taking them away.
He could only try to pat the charred edges with his hand to put the small flames out. The window had been opened again, and he swore he had closed it yesterday. But then again, almost everything from yesterday was hazy.
After he made sure his blanket wasn't going to burn his bedroom down, he slinked out of bed and threw the blanket into trash beside the kitchen. It bunched up over the already overflowing can, but stayed in place.
Tang carefully maneuvered around his ruined living room, dodging any stray pieces of glass or splinters sticking out of the carpet. He jumped straight onto his couch and reached for a random book on his messy floor.
The one he had picked up was one of his favorites: The Origins of JTTW. This had always been the most accurate in a sense of real archeology used in the sources along with many scholarly accounts backing the piece up.
It was also his first book in his collection. Something from a long time ago that someone else definitely would have kept in a box or charity.
He absent-mindedly flipped through the pages: seeing the same images and the same words in the same order over and over again tends to give you a sense of what to expect.
Then, a familiar face came into view. Something that jolted his foggy memory. A bipedal, golden cicada in long robes stood as the focus of this page. The many limbs and wings attached to its body couldn't be mistaken for anything else as the rest of his dream faded away into his mind.
Tang's eyes shot wide as he continued down the page. The power of resurrection. A disciple of Buddha. A being of chaos. A sign of transition and renewal.
Things kept getting more complicated as he finished reading the page. He knew that dreams were random: that they didn't have any special meaning behind them. And yet, why did this feel so important?
He didn't want to think too much about it. But now that he's... got more free time, he wants to figure out what's going on: why he keeps having these dreams, how he was able to split that table in half, and the voices he kept hearing after LBD's defeat (that had gone silent recently). He wanted answers.
I don't know what's going on. Heck, I don't even know if I'm going insane or not, but I'm going to find more. I need to figure out what's wrong with me.
And with that new stack of determination, Tang prepared a small backpack (where did his messanger bag go?) and headed off back outside with a new goal I mind.
Hopefully, this trip will be the first of his kind to go somewhat smoothly.
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