《At the Edge of Reality》


 John

    John woke up that morning on May 23rd with a dull pain in his right shoulder and felt grateful that it at least wasn¡¯t his back. At 52 years old his body found ways of torturing him every night, whether it was his neck, back or shoulders, sometimes they all worked in synchronization, as if his body were staging a coup upon itself. He felt old and out of shape, but he never admitted to himself that he needed to start exercising again or eating properly, that would mean accepting that something was seriously wrong with him. After having enough of his own thoughts he finally moved out of bed and shuffled on to his wardrobe in the corner of the room. A tall, dark oak wardrobe containing rows of colored flannel shirts and blue jeans stood before him, everything folded neatly and placed with care by his wife. He chose a red flannel long sleeve. It felt like a red flannel kind of day.


    After getting changed he walked out of his room and went downstairs to the kitchen where his wife sat eating breakfast, with their dog sitting at the foot of her seat eagerly awaiting any scraps unwittingly dropped on the floor. A plate had been prepared for John and placed in front of the chair he always sat at. Bacon and eggs. His wife liked to make conversation in the morning. John, on the other hand, claimed that no sane man opened his mouth before 10.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your agenda today, honey?¡± his wife asked


    ¡°Work.¡± he replied


    ¡°Do you need anything at the groceries today?¡± she continued, changing the subject


    ¡°Nope.¡± he said before pushing his chair out


    He had already had enough of talking for the morning, and so he stood up and gave the leftovers on his plate to the dog. John firmly insisted that every man should have a dog, and any other pet was either a toy, or for women. He reinforced this idea by picking out the meanest looking pitbull he could find at the town¡¯s local shelter a few years back and giving it the name ¡°Shredder¡±. Ironically, Shredder had the temperament of an old house cat.


    John''s mornings were unstructured. He did what he wanted, and how he wanted. But one of the few givens of his day was the kiss he would give his wife on the cheek before leaving for work; a treasured tradition born in the early days of their relationship, which he made sure to do before grabbing his keys and going out the entrance to his pickup truck. His job took him a 45 minute drive out of town on a dirt road through endless fields of wheat and corn. He was one of the few citizens who left the town daily, followed only by the cloud of beige dust left by his truck.

 Vanessa

    ¡°But do you really have to leave today, Mr. Monkey??¡± asked Vanessa, desperation flooding over her pale face.


    Atop a beautiful six-legged horse that couldn¡¯t quite decide what colour it wanted to be sat a monkey dressed in a wonderful bright purple generals coat, with golden epaulettes and decorated in shining medallions declaring heroic feats in battles past. They stood at a cliffs edge overlooking the once magnificent city of Dreams that had been ravaged by time and war.


    ¡°That¡¯s PRINCE Monkey, my lady, and yes,  I fear I must¡± he responded, slowly patting his unconventional stallion, who was now a pale shade of pink.


    ¡°But the war isn¡¯t over, yet! We still have so much to do!¡± Vanessa shouted, pointing to the legion of men and women standing opposite of them. ¡°All of these people need you! I need you!¡±


    Prince Monkey directed his horse to the edge of the cliff, and looking to the orange sky of the new dawn, said ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But you must go the rest of this journey without me¡± before leaping off the cliff, his mount galloping through the air as if it was on an invisible path in the sky.


    Vanessa stood there at the edge of the cliff for a moment, before her most trusted soldiers approached her and knelt. ¡°Fear not my lady¡± said the leading man, ¡°We can handle what comes next. But you need to go too.¡±


    Turning around, Vanessa stared at the soldier in confusion.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to be late!¡±


    Vanessa woke up in her bed and immediately stared at the clock: 8:52 AM. ¡°Shit!¡± she thought ¡°Shit!¡± she said.


    Hurrying out of bed and pulling open the drawers of her dresser she pulled out a random assortment of clothes that would be her outfit for today. Black jeans and a blue t-shirt she wore the day before? It would have to do. Whoever said that you couldn¡¯t wear the same clothes two days in a row could stick a fork in a socket, for all she cared. Leaving her hair in a mess and grabbing her school bag from next to her bed she ran downstairs where she saw her sister in the kitchen enjoying her breakfast.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you wake me up?! I¡¯m gonna be late for school!¡± Vanessa fired


    Shocked by the gall of her, her sister fired back ¡°You didn¡¯t ASK me to wake you up! It¡¯s not my fault!¡±  making a point so excellent that Vanessa had no choice but to mumble something under her breath and let it go.


    Hastily grabbing leftovers from the night before as lunch, she ran out the front door like a bat out of hell.


    Vanessa lived within walking (or in this case, speed walking) distance from her school, and although she had gone that way nearly every day for the past 4 years, she still ran the directions through her head as she went, treating it as if it were a game. Going left from her house she would take another left on Sussex, then continuing down the street she would look out for the newly painted red fire hydrant on the corner of Surrey, where she would take a right, then finally left on a bike path not too far ahead between two tall hedges that would lead her to the street her school was situated on.


    Bursting through the entrance of her school, she checked her phone: 9:12 AM, she still had 3 minutes to spare, and so she finally started slowing down. Heading to her class she met up with one of her friends, Zeke, who knew her so well that he was able to guess that from the looks of it, Vanessa had been awake for only about 20 minutes, and so generously offered her a granola bar which she rejected.


    ¡°You know me well enough to notice I¡¯m sleep deprived without me having to say a word, but not well enough to remember that I can¡¯t eat peanuts?¡± Vanessa asked facetiously


    ¡°Ohhh, right. Well that¡¯s because I¡¯m actually trying to plot your murder, and this would have been the perfect crime.¡± he answered, waving the granola bar at her.


    ¡°Ha. You¡¯re funny. We should get to class now, murderer,  or we¡¯ll be late.¡± she said, slapping the granola bar away.


    ¡°Yeah, and whose fault would THAT be?¡± Zeke remarked sarcastically as they entered their class. Walking to their desks at the edge of the room, Vanessa took the window seat, a perfect place to daydream when class got boring, and Zeke took the seat directly in front of her.


    ¡°Okay! I swear I¡¯m not usually like this, my alarm just didn¡¯t go off! My mornings are pretty chaotic normally, but not, like, THIS chaotic.¡±


    Right as Zeke was going to make another sarcastic remark, their teacher spoke up signalling the beginning of the class, and he turned around.


    Vanessa swore that she tried to listen in class, and she did that day, if only a little, but it wasn¡¯t long before she was looking out the window, already losing herself in the stories she conjured up in her vast imagination.

 Dan

    Dan had been active for hours by the time most in the town had only woken up. He felt most productive before the sun rose, and took pride in the fact that he didn¡¯t even need a cup of coffee to be functional, much to the irritation of his roommate. Still a young man at 25, Dan lived in an apartment with his friend Trevor in the busiest part of town which, compared to most other towns, was not very busy at all. As soon as he woke up he always made sure to do his stretches, calisthenics and would also try to fit in a quick jog if he had the time.


    Unfortunately today, however, time was running out. Today he had to look his most presentable because today was the day he was finally conducting his first interview. Having studied and earned his degree in journalism, Dan had landed an internship at the town¡¯s primary news station, but up until now had only been given menial tasks around the building; occasionally helping other journalists write an article, or shadowing a superior on their own interviews. Needless to say, today was a massive day in his career, and he knew it. He could barely keep himself from talking the ears off his friends and family.


    His excitement for the day persuaded him to leave much earlier than he would have normally. Having combed his jet black hair into a neat slicked style, putting on his best suit and spraying on his most expensive cologne, he left his apartment that day on May 23 at 7:05 AM where he would then catch the bus 25 minutes later. His excitement for the day ahead vastly overpowered the boredom one feels waiting for the bus in the cool morning.


    Arriving at work, while waiting for his manager to arrive, Dan was able to watch the stage crew prepping their mics and cameras in the studio where the morning news would be broadcasted. He always admired the set, it was a reminder of what he wanted to accomplish; one day he would sit at that desk as an anchor. In the few instances when he arrived early he always took the chance to admire the setup process, and would even sometimes take notes he thought would impress his superiors if he could ever reference them.


    If anyone were to ask Dan¡¯s colleagues what they thought of him, the consensus would likely be that he was wet behind the ears. He held a lot of ambition for his future, but when he spoke about his plans to his co-workers, he always seemed as though he lacked proper foresight. When confronted about this, Dan didn¡¯t give it much of a second thought. It was just the way he was, he lived every day as goal-oriented as the previous, and worked as hard as he could to reach them.


    Knowing his manager would arrive soon, Dan waited just outside his (the manager¡¯s, Dan definitely didn¡¯t have one yet) office, admiring the plaques dated nearly 30 years ago mounted in the muted blue hallway that were awarded to them for achievements in journalism.  Arriving only a few minutes later, his manager invited Dan into his office.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Alright, so give me a run-down of your guy, what¡¯s his name, what¡¯s his deal, make me confident that you know what you¡¯re doing¡± he said, gesturing for him to take a seat across from his dark oak desk, which he never fully looked up from.


    ¡°Right, so his name is Professor Abernathy, he¡¯s a writer and a physicist who I¡¯m interviewing for his newest published book called ¡°Our World in 1¡¯s and 0¡¯s¡±, about how our universe could be a simulation in some higher being¡¯s computer. It¡¯s actually a really interesting read, I took the time to go through everything and--¡± Dan started, before being cut off.


    ¡°Alright, alright that¡¯s fine, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do great.  I was told that he requested to be interviewed at his place,¡± he said, shuffling some papers around on his desk and stapling a packet of sheets seemingly at random, still not granting Dan any eye contact.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting a camera crew ready to leave with you in about fifteen minutes. Is everything ready on your end?¡± he asked, finally satisfied with the ratio of stapled sheets to unstapled sheets on his desk.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± floundered Dan, instinctively reaching for his pants pockets to make sure he had all his essentials. ¡°Yeah, everything¡¯s good with me,¡± he said, finally.


    ¡°Perfect, the crew should be getting ready out front. Once everything¡¯s loaded into the van you¡¯ll be good to go.¡± Only at his last phrase did he finally look up from his desk, signaling to Dan that he was excused from his office.


    ¡°Alright, thank you sir¡± he concluded, before getting up to leave.


    Most interactions with his manager went the same: quick, to the point, and generally without emotion. Practically the opposite of how Dan would have conducted meetings with his employees. But he never let it get to him, especially not today. Heading out of his manager¡¯s office and towards the entrance of the building, he felt his mouth growing more and more into a smile. These were both his figurative and literal first steps as a professional journalist.


    Pushing open the front door, Dan prepared to ask the crew if they needed any help, he was in a good helping mood, and he would do anything he could to leave earlier. To his surprise, however, none were loading their cameras, mics or stands into the van, in fact, the cameras had hardly been moved from their spot in front of the building where they had been initially placed to load. All were frozen in their place, looking at the sky with contorted expressions on their faces that Dan couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint. It was as if they were turned to clay and been molded into caricatures of humanity¡¯s most primal emotions: awe, confusion, terror. In an effort to understand what could have caught their attention so intensely, he followed their gaze to the sky.

 The Object

    What Dan saw that morning outside the town''s news station was the same as what Vanessa saw looking out the window of her classroom, and the same as what John saw leaving the town in his truck.


    The object would objectively have to be called some sort of spacecraft. However, if we were better at naming things, we would call it something else. It was suspended nearly half a kilometer above the ground and appeared to be a featureless black capsule of indeterminate size. None could believe what they saw. There had to be an explanation. It was as if it had just been placed there by something. No rational human thought could provide a sensible clarification as to what it was or how it got there.


    It made no sound initially. Its silence permeated through the air louder than any sound it could have made. But just then a deep, bellowing roar erupted from above them, shaking the earth beneath their feet, and all eyes returned to the sky.


    The craft slowly began unraveling into a flat circular plane, cloaking the sky in a deep black and eclipsing the sun, enveloping the town in darkness, save for the light that leaked in far in the horizon at the edge of the disk. Looking up, the inner machinations of the ship were now visible: pipes circulated in and around the craft like blood vessels, structures protruded with no apparent coordination, moving components slithered around its belly and cogs spun and creaked. As obvious as it may sound, it was simply alien; incomprehensible to the human mind, an oppressive nightmare that reminded every person in the vicinity of how small they were. How insignificant their lives were. How little knowledge they possessed and how much was still so completely inaccessible to them.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    It took no time for the shock of the event to pass, and soon the minds of every citizen fell prey to the maelstrom of confusion, fear, and chaos that swathed over their little town, as tangible and terrifying as the spacecraft itself. Some ran for cover, some whispered prayers, but most could do nothing but stand and watch hopelessly at the distillation of cosmic terror before them, frozen in place as if touched by the cold void of space itself. If Lucifer himself appeared before them, the fiery pits of Hell in his breast, it wouldn¡¯t be sufficient to break the trance that the people had been placed in.


    At the peak of the hysteria, three circular ports opened at the center of the plane, and pillars of light cascaded outwards like the first sunlight penetrating the overcast sky after a storm. Out of the ports descended bright spheres of light akin to small suns, casting the once-dark town back into twilight. The citizens, snapping out of their madness, returned to gazing at this new phenomenon, a primordial feeling overcoming them as if discovering fire for the first time.


    Shortly after, the three spheres began revolving around a point at their center, picking up such speed that they began to lose their individual form, creating a luminous ring. With the increase in speed, they began emitting more light, increasing until it was too much for people to bear, as if the sun itself had been placed only meters away from them. Reaching the climax of their speed, one final, blinding flash exploded onto the town, and just as soon as the gleam arrived, it disappeared along with the object itself.


    All was dark, and the town was left a collapsed shell of what it once was.

 May 24th

    John woke up that morning on May 24th an energetic and well rested man. At 52, John was as limber and strong as he had ever been; while most men his age had begun having chronic back or shoulder pain, John was about as healthy as a 35 year old, his motto that he often repeated was ¡°Use it or lose it¡±. Getting out of bed he headed to his dark oak wardrobe and put on a white t-shirt with jeans covered by a blue flannel. It felt like a blue flannel kind of day.


    Making his way downstairs he met his wife who had been preparing him breakfast, his favourite: oatmeal with blueberries. Sitting down with her, he would have a lengthy conversation about what their plans were for the weekend, maybe they would go out on a car ride, or maybe they would just relax at home and watch a movie. Soon though, John stood up to get ready to leave for work, his cat brushing past his leg on the way out, implying that it was about time it got a head scratch, which John was more than happy to provide. Heading outside and opening the door to his truck, he had a feeling he was forgetting something, but after checking his bag and realising he had all he needed, decided to ignore the feeling and left for work.


    Waking up from a dreamless sleep, Vanessa felt even more tired than she had been the night before. Remembering her tendency to wake up late, she immediately rolled over to face her bedside clock, 8:08 AM glowed on the display and a wave of relief overcame her; she still had over an hour before class started. Taking her time to get out of bed, she eventually shuffled her way downstairs to the kitchen and lazily made herself a peanut butter and jam sandwich which she promptly devoured while watching videos on her phone.


    Getting dressed and heading out, she got ready to run the directions through her head like usual. ¡°Left on Sussex¡­. Left on Sussex¡± she thought to herself, however after some time she began noticing houses that normally came after her street. ¡°... Did I miss it?¡± she thought to herself. Turning around she headed back to where Sussex should have been but found that it simply was not there. Vanessa stood there on the sidewalk in confusion, there was no way she could have missed an entire street, and she definitely went the right way after leaving her house. Was a house built without her realizing, or was she just going insane? Checking her phone for the time, she saw that it was 9:00 AM, only 15 minutes left until class started, she thought to herself, anxiety welling up inside of her, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.


    Looking up she was met with a tall chimpanzee dressed in a wonderful bright purple generals coat, with golden epaulettes, decorated in shining medallions declaring heroic feats in battles past.


    ¡°May I help you, my lady?¡± the monkey said at last


    ¡°Uh..¡± Vanessa stuttered, staring at the affront to reality that stood before her, a shocked expression on her face


    ¡°Prince Monkey, my lady.¡± said Prince Monkey, noticing her stunned gaze, ¡°Pardon my intrusion. I noticed you looked quite lost.¡±


    ¡°Um.. Y-yeah I.. uh, I was just trying to get to school, but I couldn¡¯t find the street I was supposed to be on¡± she said, alternating between staring at the anthropomorphic ape and the place where Surrey should have been.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Ah, yes, I see. Follow me, my lady.¡± he insisted, before strolling onto the nearest front lawn.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± asked Vanessa, hesitantly taking steps to follow the Prince


    ¡°To take you to school,¡± he answered, continuing forward


    As he kept walking, Vanessa saw that the houses facing him seemed to ¡°step¡± out of the way, they bent, twisted and turned, defying their physical forms to allow the Prince to continue, followed closely by his consort. Together they walked through the neighbourhood as gods of their space. Vanessa noticed the newly painted red fire hydrant on the corner of Surrey, and pointed it out to Prince Monkey, indicating that needed to turn right. They travelled through the tight maze of houses that continued to contort in increasingly creative ways: lawns and driveways raised into archways, roofs kneeled down forming bridges over the properties they covered, and roads bent between houses that seemed to suck in their guts as they passed. Vanessa could partially make out people inside going about their business as if nothing was the matter. Occasionally she would look up at the Prince, who looked forward steadily as if commanding the obstacles in front of them to arrange themselves in ways that suited them best.


    Eventually, they reached the street Vanessa¡¯s school was on. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, the house behind them, which had just bent 90 degrees, bounced back into position like an elastic that had been stretched too far. Standing next to each other, the Prince whistled, and his multicolored horse arrived before them, this time a dark auburn.


    ¡°Thank you for helping me,¡± said Vanessa, a smile on her face


    ¡°It was my pleasure, my lady. If you¡¯re ever again in a position where the world simply isn¡¯t going your way, I will be at your side before long.¡± the Prince responded, before bowing and mounting his horse.


    ¡°Okay! Thank you again!¡± she cried, and soon after, Prince Monkey and his blue steed were galloping into the air.


    Checking her phone one more time, she saw that it was 9:10 AM, and she hurried down to the front door and went to class.


    Darkness. Or perhaps another word that hadn¡¯t yet been thought of. Darkness describes the partial or total absence of light, indicating that it¡¯s the product of a lack of another element. What word could possibly describe a space that had never known anything else, a space where there could be no lack of another element because there was only one to begin with? Darkness. In this space floated Dan, he didn¡¯t remember ever arriving there, it was as if he had always been there and he only recently pulled back the curtains on the reality that obstructed it. An inordinate amount of time passed in the span of an infinitesimally small fraction of a second, he was surrounded by infinity, yet he felt somewhat claustrophobic.


    Dan never questioned his current situation, he wasn¡¯t even fully sure if he was capable of thought, or if he was simply participating in the collective consciousness of the void; an uncertainty he was perfectly comfortable with never having an answer for. He felt relieved of any and all stresses once imposed on him, and so instead of pondering the meaning of his current situation or lamenting the loss of the reality he was once so sure of, he floated. And so he floated for infinity, oblivious to the passage of time or space, an entity of the purgatory that consumed him.

 Epilogue

    Far away in an desolate, mountainous country seldom touched by warmth or nature loomed a tall, white, featureless structure of indeterminable purpose at the top of a high mound of crushed and powdered rock. Its conspicuous cleanliness kept it unnaturally apparent among the dead, grey environment surrounding it; a monolithic gravestone marking a once prosperous land. Inside was a dark room illuminated only by the cold glow of consoles and displays, each presenting a wealth of information urgently being deciphered by the room''s nervous occupants.


    A dozen people in the room hurled orders and questions at each other without coordination before returning to their own posts and frantically typing a command into a console, quickly standing back up every time a dark crimson warning message surged across their screen to repeat the process. On the wall facing the staff was a screen that spanned the full width of the room, which cut between video and audio feed of a dark object enveloping the sky above a small town and critical error alerts that were quickly replaced by more critical error alerts . In the midst of the uproar, a door at the back of the room swung open, flooding the room with light from the hallway, followed by a man in an important looking suit who strode down the aisle between consoles to the front-most display.


    ¡°Final call! We need to reset the system!¡± the suited man yelled as he walked.


    Hearing this, the room grew more chaotic, each voicing their thoughts aloud to a room populated by individuals who only cared about having their own opinion heard.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯ll happen if we perform a system reset now! There are people in there who are at risk, we have to try and recover what we¨C¡± yelled a large sweaty man near the front of the room, before being interrupted by the man in the suit who now stood facing him.


    ¡°And jeopardise the entire project? You¡¯ve seen what¡¯s going on, the psychological stress of the citizens is overwhelming the system; the server is at critical space. If we don¡¯t do something right now we could lose everything we¡¯ve worked towards! You gathered the data that you were requested to find, there¡¯s nothing more you can do!¡± The room went silent, save for the whirring and trilling of the consoles¡¯ strained hardware.


    The sweaty man who insisted otherwise stubbornly tried to resist, the rest quietly agreed.


    ¡°Good. The reset should remove the object from the program and set the date to the morning of the next day: May 24th.¡± said the man in the suit, regaining his composure. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    At this, a tense murmur filled the room, and typing could be heard across the rows of consoles.


    ¡°Reset is ready, sir.¡± said a woman in the middle of the room, which was met with a nod from the man in the suit.


    With that, the display at the front of the room went dark, and all the consoles in the room shut down, leaving the room in a dark, anxious silence. Minutes passed, and the computers booted back to life, relighting the space in a cold blue hue.


    ¡°What¡¯s the status, doctor?¡± asked the man in the suit.


    At the right most console in the front row, a small woman stared at her screen and read its content, her face growing more pale at every line.


    ¡°Um¡­ we¡¯re seeing mass sensory hallucinations and variable switches on nearly every single citizen. It looks like some were fully disconnected from the software; their vitals are flat. Braindead. Others are reporting physical and psychological changes in their simulated counterparts: some personalities are being amplified, some are even being reversed.¡± she read aloud slowly. Once finished, whispers filled the room.


    ¡°How will this affect the real world subjects?¡± asked a voice behind the woman


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re capable of being disconnected from the program anymore.¡± she answered, dejectedly.


    More silence followed and thoughts raced through the heads of every member in the room. After a few moments the man in the suit, who had been deep in thought, raised his voice to the staff.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done all you can for now. What we needed was the data of the feedback to the UFO. The rest is in your hands.¡± he said, before slowly making his way back to the door at the end of the aisle.


    ¡°You don¡¯t care about the people?¡± blurted out the woman in the front row, standing up ¡°You don¡¯t care that you just ordered us to condemn thousands of people to their deaths?!¡±


    The man stopped at the last row of consoles, unphased by the gravitas of the woman''s question and turned around to look her in the eyes with a dead gaze,


    ¡°I do. But we have more than this small group of civilians to worry about. There¡¯s a reason we were asked to do this, doctor, as you¡¯re aware. As you¡¯re all aware.¡± Hearing this, the woman in the front row sat back down defeatedly in the seat to her side. The frankness of his statement caused her and the rest of the people in the room to give up any chances of guilting him.


    ¡°What happened here tonight will not leave this room. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, the experiment went smoothly and the simulation is continuing normally.¡± he continued, before pausing one last time at the frame of the exit.


    ¡°The work you¡¯ve done is appreciated, and I hope this facility can count on your aid in the future, if it¡¯s ever needed again¡± he finished, before stepping out and closing the door, cloaking the room once again in darkness.


    None uttered a word, none thought a thought, all were left with the knowledge and burden of their abomination.