This week I got a prompt from my dear writing buddy Frankie, and a quite interesting one at that. So come with me on a journey and see what happens. :D
2017/09/18 – The teapot boils and you pour the hot water into the
mug. Stir the teabag around in circles, creating a small vortex
within the cup. As you keep stirring, you watch the vortex, staring
at it dreamily, until you notice the vortex getting bigger and bigger
and suddenly you are pulled into it. Down and down the spinning
vortex, down and gone to another realm. Where do you land and how do
you get back?
Breaching the surface she drew in huge gulps of air; gasping and
panting she looked around to find herself in a lake surrounded by
dark hills contrasting with the golds and violets of the setting sun.
Still out of breath she swam to the banks and dragged her body out of
the water, shivering with cold.
“What in the world happened? And where am I?” she wondered as she
looked about the beautiful and perfectly calm landscape. Two pale
moons were up, and the first stars became visible in the evening sky.
So she instantly knew, this was not Earth anymore.
“This has to be one of my weird dreams,” she groaned. Then again
she never realized she was dreaming when she did. But it couldn't be
real either, could it?
The sun was low on the horizon and wouldn't be able to dry her
clothes, so she decided to move and try to find people who might help
her. Trudging along the banks of the lake she shivered; her
flip-flops made a wet noise with every step she took. Her thoughts
wandered home, wishing this really was just a dream and she was
napping on her cosy sofa huddled in a fleece blanket and her tea was
getting cold.
In the distance she saw a campfire burning in the semi-darkness, and
she felt so relieved there were people out there she almost forgot to
be afraid. Almost. For as she hurried towards the light in the dark
she remembered that whoever was there might not be as friendly as she
hoped. On her long way there images of ghastly monsters danced before
her mind's eye, drinking blood and crunching bones with their sharp
teeth – her bones. She shook her head and walked on. No, she needed
help; she was in no position to fear for herself and conjure the
worst persons possible. Maybe these monsters were nice and helpful
monsters who offered her a change of clothes and a cup of tea.
Decidedly she approached the campfire. And when she arrived, she
sighed a sigh of relief as she saw the creatures sitting there looked
perfectly human. And yet her heart was pounding so hard she could
feel it in her throat. It was still three men, at least one of them
armed with a sword, against one frail and shivering woman. She gulped
and halted as if rooted to the ground.
“Come, sit with us. You must be cold,” the man with the sword had
noticed her and his dark eyes bore into her as if they could see past
her flesh and bones and right into her soul.
The other men also looked her way now. “Oh, hey there. Didn't
notice you there in the dark,” the dark blonde smiled at her and
waved, while the other stern looking man only acknowledged her with a
nod.
“Uh, thank you,” she hesitatingly smiled, “and hi.” These
strangers seemed oddly familiar, though she was sure she'd never met
them before. Carefully she sat and eyed them a bit warily. At least
they seemed friendly and spoke her language. She rubbed her hands and
held them close to the fire. The warmth did wonders to her shivering
body, but her wet clothes still clung to her.
“May I offer you a cup of coffee? Or tea...” the stern man
politely asked. In his three-pieced suit he seemed a bit out of
place, much unlike the other two.
“Yes, please,” she nodded eagerly, the prospect of a hot beverage
melted her mistrust away. “Either is fine. And thank you.” The
man poured her a cup and she cradled it, warming her hands before
taking a sip. The coffee was strong and bitter but it did the worlds
of good. She smiled and sighed contentedly.
The dark blonde fetched a big towel from their tents. “Did you fall
into the lake?” he asked sympathetically.
“Something like that,” she murmured a bit embarrassed. She didn't
think they might believe her if she told them what really happened.
Instead she huddled into the towel and dried herself. But she stopped
when she felt the scrutinizing stare of the one who invited her to
their campfire. “Uhm…?” she blinked at him questioningly.
“No, she didn't,” he stated, “she fell through a vortex in her
tea cup and landed here.”
She startled, feeling embarrassed yet again. How did he know? Somehow
she felt, she should know the answer already.
“A vortex in her tea cup? That sounds highly unlikely,” the dark
blonde chuckled quietly.
“But it's true, isn't it? Asuka Ishimaru, author of two short story
collections about our dear Neverbeen Universe,” the man who became
creepier and creepier to her observed.
“How – how do you know my name?” she asked scared as hell.
“Indeed, how would I know if you didn't tell me and we'd never met?
Well, you do know me – as you know all of us – and you know my
powers even more than I do, don't you? Remember. Who am I?” he
grinned, crafty as a cartload of monkeys.
She stared at him, utterly confused and even shaken. The coffee cup
in her hands trembled as she clutched it. Her mind was in turmoil as
it tried to make sense of what that man told her. She was sure,
they'd never met. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that –
like he said – she did know them.
“How is that even possible, Raphael?” the dark blonde wondered as
the stern gentleman cleared his throat and said with an apprehensive
air: “If I may? Ishimaru-sensei may very well know us if her
identity is confirmed. As I gather from your information on her,
Ra-chin, she indeed may be the wisest entity in this whole Universe,
and it is a wondrous incident that she is in fact here.”
She stared and outright gaped at the three men before her as finally
it dawned on her who they were. At once everything made sense. Why
they seemed so familiar, why the man called Raphael knew her name and
what happened to her, why the gentleman behaved as he did. She
etiolated and felt as though she might faint any minute. Could this
really be happening?
“Oh my god,” she whispered, eyes still trained on the three men
as if they had grown a second head. But this was even more
miraculous. “Is this really real? Are – are you... real?” she
blurted and almost dropped her cup of coffee.
Raphael crossed his arms and grinned: “As real as we possibly
could.”
And the dark blonde – Gene – blinked, then nodded. “Sure. I
feel very real.”
The gentlemanly Reaper agreed as well.
And she was very well gobsmacked. The more she realised the three of
them were really there – she was really there and came face to
face with them – the more a broad smile spread on her lips.
“Awesome. This is totally awesome,” she breathed and stared at
them dreamy-eyed. To meet the main characters of her novel in the
making was a dream come true.
“Not at all,” Raphael glowered and knotted his brows. “Care to
explain why the hell you do all these things to us in your new story?
I don't care what happens to me, but I hope you have a damn good
reason for what happens to my dear Gene,” he had a warning tone in
his voice which spoke of the danger and power he contained. He stood
and spread his black wings.
She gulped, her enthusiasm snuffed out in an instant and replaced by
fear. For she very well knew what this Daemon was capable of – she
had written it herself.
However, the Reaper came to her rescue and stood in Raphael's path.
“Don't do something reckless, Ra-chin,” he solemnly said,
“remember. Ishimaru-sensei is our creator. If you do her harm we
won't be able to foresee the consequences to our own existence, nay,
the existence of whole Neverbeen Universe.”
“I know that,” Raphael growled, “but that doesn't justify what
she's doing to us. I can't let her get away with murder, even if it's
just in a book.”
“Murder?” Gene echoed, and exclaimed shocked, “Someone's going
to die? I don't want that.”
“It's just for dramatical purposes. And there is a happy end,”
she promised, then turned to Raphael, “You know that, right? All is
well in the end. You can prove it if you read my mind.”
Raphael crossed his arms and shook his head. “I don't like it.
Rewrite the story!”
Again, Thanatos cleared his throat to get their attention: “If
there is an agreeable ending, that may not be necessary. Be that as
it may, there is a more concerning fact at hand. If Ishimaru-sensei
is here in Nverbeen Universe, a world of her own creation, this may
have serious consequences, possibly cataclysmic ones.”
Gene nodded. “I see. I get it now. But whatever happens when she is
here?”
“Excuse me. That I can't possibly fathom,” Thanatos said.
“However, I deem it an urgent matter to transport Ishimaru-sensei
back to her own world so this world might not be endangered, nor pose
a threat to her wellbeing.”
“Agreed,” Raphael relented, “I don't want this place to implode
on us or whatever. So we have to get her back to wherever she came
from.”
She nodded eagerly. As great and fascinating it might be to meet her
own creations in the flesh, she knew how dangerous this world was and
she certainly didn't want to die in an imaginary world. “Yes,
please. I'd rather you visited me at home than something happened to
me here,” she smiled lopsidedly.
“But how to get you there?” Gene asked. “Could one of those
portals bring you there?”
Raphael thought for a moment until he concluded: “I don't think so.
The portals may be connected to other places in Neverbeen Universe,
but they won't lead outside. We have to think of something else.”
For a while pensive silence ensued until it was again Raphael who
came up with something. “Let's have a look at the incident that
brought you here: you were pouring yourself some tea, stirring the
tea and creating a vortex. And as you stared at it the vortex sucked
you in. My guess: this is all in your mind; the vortex hypnotized you
somehow and you're still there where you belong. Otherwise you
couldn't possibly enter a universe that is purely of your own
creation.”
That somehow sounded plausible. “So what do I do to get…
unhypnotized?” she asked, “Because that would bring me back,
right?”
Raphael nodded. “I think so.” Again he thought for a moment, then
suggested: “I could link our minds and see if I can wake you.”
Hesitatingly she nodded. She was pretty uncomfortable with someone
poking around in her mind, especially someone of Raphael's calibre.
But she wanted to return home as fast as possible and hopefully in
one piece. “Alright. Please try,” she agreed.
She felt a tingle in the back of her head as Raphael's presence
gently pushed inside her head, filled her thinking and a shiver ran
down her spine when his calm and deep mental voice murmured: 'Relax.
Think of your home. Remember, this is not real, this is but a
daydream. Remember where you are and what you are doing. Good. Hold
that thought.' She relaxed and
did as he told, relished in the feel of his strong mind guiding hers.
'And on the count of three you open your eyes and are back where
you belong. Ready? One… two… three.'
She opened her eyes and blinked. Gone was the campfire, and gone were
the three protagonists of her novel in the making. She became aware
she was still standing in the kitchen, staring forlornly into her
mug. “That was the weirdest daydream I've ever had,” she mused.
“Wish it was real though. Oh, well.” She shrugged and took a huge
sip of her tea. It had become too strong and had already gone cold.
She downed it nonetheless, put the teapot on again and flip-flopped
back to her desk where she opened the manuscript to her novel in the
making. This incident had really put her in the good mood to work on
the story again…
