Unsolvable: Rupture Part 2

Posted on January 2, 2012


Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Seth stared at the wall in a daze. His mouth was agape, and drool slowly dripped onto his lap. In reality, there was silence, and the wall was only a wall. In Seth’s mind, he was on a stage before a vast and curious audience of journalists…

The next one to stand was a beautiful, blonde, curvy woman, with piercing blue eyes and voluptuous lips covered in red lipstick. She wore a black skirt that went down to her knees, and a white button up shirt that was partially see through, and not completely buttoned up. Seth struggled not to stare at her protruding chest.

Easily Double D’s. Shit.

He quickly stepped back behind the podium, but played it off as merely getting a sip of his water. He cleared his throat and looked her in the eye. “Yes?”

“How did you deal with it?”

Her voice made him melt. He stood closer to the podium. Thank God for the empty space under here.

“Being an outcast, for obvious reasons, isn’t easy. Unless you choose to be as such.”

He inhaled and looked around the room, then exhaled. “But,” he continued. “If it isn’t by choice, as with me, then it truly is a living hell. No one to care for you, be with you…” His voice trailed off, as did his stare. He gazed blankly into the audience, his mouth agape. He suddenly felt cold, and shivered. His thoughts ran wild.

Worthless! Hopeless! Useless! Pathetic! Garbage! Outcast! Outcast! Outcast! You’re nothing! Die! Die! Die! No one will miss you. No one likes you. You were a waste of life, money, time, and space. Kill yourself already.

“You wanna fuck?”

Seth snapped out of his daze. He looked at the beautiful journalist. She was looking back at him with a seductive smile. He looked around the auditorium. The rest of the journalists had left, leaving scattered empty chairs. He looked back at her. She began unbuttoning her shirt slowly. He suddenly felt his knees buckling and the blood rush from his head. She finished unbuttoning, and took the shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

“We’re gonna have loads of fun.”

Seth thought his heart might explode. Then she spoke again. “Poor Seth.” Instead of the voice that had made him melt, she had the voice of a man; deep and menacing. She snapped her fingers, and transformed into a man right before Seth’s eyes. His black hair was a mess, as were his cargo pants and button-up shirt of the same color. He grinned wide at Seth. Seth became enraged. He knew all too well who this man was. The Counterpart.

Seth slammed his fist on the podium, and the ceiling started crashing down. The Counterpart held up his palm towards the falling mass and it stopped mid-fall. Using his other hand, he waved his finger at Seth.

“No, no, Seth. This is my world.”

“No…this is my mind!” Seth roared as he slammed his other fist on the podium. The Counterpart grunted as he fell to one knee. The ceiling was becoming harder to hold off. Before he knew it, the Counterpart was his hands and knees.

“How dare you come here like this,” Seth said, enraged. “And toy with my feelings, thoughts, fantasies…”

The Counterpart managed to strain a laugh. “It’s what I do best,” he grunted. Seth scowled at him, though he couldn’t see it with his face forced towards the floor. The Counterpart’s eyes widened as the floor turned to lava and his hands disintegrated. He forced his head up to look at Seth. As the lava destroyed him, he had one final message: “My world. Mine.”

Then he was gone. Seth sighed and snapped his fingers. The auditorium returned to normal, and the audience of journalists reappeared. He cleared his throat and looked into the sea of curious eyes looking back at him. “Next question.”

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