One of Us--Part 4: In which we return to how this all began

Part 4: In which we return to how this all began

 

Anon's undershirt ripped easily, which was good, because it was the only clean garment he could wrap around his wounds. Mud clung all over the back of his uniform, and he was sure that some of it got into the wounds on his back. He had to find some running water to clean it out--at least that's what he thought you're supposed to do in these situations--but until then he'd settle for covering and closing them. Well, the ones on his stomach anyway. He passed out from the pain when he tried to put the cloth over his back. The sun poked through holes here and there in the foliage above, but Anon held onto his flashlight for when it got dark. He wondered just how deep inside the forest he was, how he got there, and where the woman went.

But most disturbing was the way everything looked.

Anon reached out and felt the grass, the trees, felt some of the leaves between his fingers; it all looked like a cartoon. Thick solid lines outlined smooth pastel colors of dirt and rock and leaf, but it was all in focus. He reasoned that it must have been what was most likely a toxic concoction of drugs that freakishly strong bagwoman had collected in her bag, which had then collected in his bloodstream when he rolled over it.

The worst part of being high and lost in the woods wasn't the fact that every branch in the forest couldn't support his weight, or that the mud sucked on his shoes every time he took a step, or the unease with which he regarded any of the brightly colored and tempting fruit that grew abundant, which must surely be poisoned. No, the worst part of being high and lost in the woods was the thirst. Another good reason to find running water.

But all Anon could find was a faint trail and, with no better leads, picked a direction and plodded along, hoping some jogger would find him and take him to a hospital and rescue him from this unusually lonely trip.

Along the trail Anon tried to take his mind off the pain, so he contemplated the scarcity of wild beasts and demons and all other stuff people talk about seeing when they hallucinate. Last time he had taken hallucinogens he spent the better part of two hours trying to shoot down the giant bird of prey that had broken though the roof of their house. Turns out it was just the ceiling fan, but still, it had been exciting. Maybe he was walking through the fence-free backyards of the nearby suburb, completely empty at night. The pain was weird too. He didn't know for sure, but he thought that maybe the drugs would have at least numbed that, right?

He stepped off the trail to rest his hand against a tree trunk, tired from the walking and thirst.

Next to it sat a bush with bunches of small orange berries in bunches. Anon reached over and picked one, examining it between a finger and thumb. When he squeezed it the juice squirted onto his face, specks landing on his lips. They were sweet, and juicy, and exactly what Anon wanted. Damning the poisonous possibility, he started to pick bunches from the bush, shoving handfuls into his mouth as fast as he could pick them.

When he reached the back side of the bush, he stopped to look at some kinda four-legged cross between a bug and a dog, with solid blue eyes and holes in its legs, which was watching him. Its eyes squinted hard at him, tears forming at the edges.

:Well, I was wondering when it would begin:, Anon thought. He popped a few more berries in his mouth before he wiped it with the back of his hand. He could feel the pain from his back and stomach lessening, so he figured it must be the fruit and picked a few more to stick in his shirt pockets. The thing was still looking at him.

"Here kitty kitty kitty," he said, leaning forward and stretching out his arms, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just want to pet you."

Hissing again, the thing shook away the tears and in a flash of green light grew to his height and proportions, with noodle-like arms and legs. Anon stepped back to look it over; but looked as if a kindergartener had made a replica of Anon out of clay. Colors of the skin changed where his shirt was supposed to be, and it even had the red spots from where he had been injured. The face wasn't much better, which was good, because if it were any more realistic it would have fallen right into the uncanny valley. As it was now, the thing looked like a cartoon Gumby version of Anon.

"I've seen better," Anon said bluntly. He held up a hand and stretched out his fingers. "See? There's five of them, with one on the opposite side. And your skin looks nothing like mine. Way too smooth."

The thing flashed green a couple more times, still squinting every time it looked at him. Anon just shook his head at each attempt.

"I need to find civilization again." Anon put both his hands on his knees and leaned forward, "And I really need a shower." A short distance from the side of the trail he could see two rocky outcroppings coming out of the ground forming a sort of valley.

A pair of hisses came from his side and he turned his head just in time to see two smaller creatures that looked somewhat similar run headlong into it. The three of them tumbled and rolled into a tree on the opposite side of the path in a pile of hisses and kicks. They stopped only when a roar from where the other two had run shook the trees and sent birds flapping out of the canopy.

The manitcore bent over two trees clearing his path. Three green flashes an instant later and he was looking at three smaller manticores and paused for a moment, confused. The changelings took the opportunity to let out a small roar of their own, and Anon smiled. They sounded like three angry cats, and he chuckled despite the danger of the situation.

His laughing, however, earned him a glance from the beast. Its eyes narrowed before slamming shut and its face contorted into a snarl when it looked at him. Forgetting the smaller changelings, the back of the giant's paw struck Anon on the side, sending him rolling across the ground. New rivulets of blood started to flow from his wounds, and he scrambled to get to his feet. Anon started running, suddenly all too aware that his hallucinations were starting to really hurt, and he should probably find a nicer part of it before things got too dark. The path away from the ravine seemed a good a direction as any, and he glanced over his shoulder to see if the beast was taking chase. Its eyes were full of tears and bloodshot now, and it closed them again to charge at him. Now in a full-out sprint, Anon heard the beast trip on the path and roll into a tree, but he didn't stop to look behind him. Ahead, he could see a clearing between the trees to a small grassy hill with a large tree on it in the distance. He thought he could see a...window on the side of the trunk, and what looked like a chicken coop on the ground.

A slash tore across his back, from his waist to his opposite shoulder, and soon all he could see was sky. The pressure on the back of his head was relieved only in time to see the forest end on either side of him, followed by the dirt path just outside the treeline. The earth came up to meet him and stole the breath from his chest, just before it stole his senses, trading him the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

 

---

 

The evening wind was cool, and it brushed dust across his face. Anon's chest heaved to breathe, and the pain from the wounds on all sides of his torso gave the world a certain kind of clarity. Not too far away was that tree he saw, and from this close he could see that it was a cottage of sorts built right into it. A small yellow...pegasus he thought...with pink hair flapped out of one of the doors in the trunk with a little brown bag in its mouth and landed inside the little fence around the chicken coop. Anon thought he could hear a faint voice.

"Ok little chickens, time to come out and..." Anon couldn't hear the rest. He didn't know if he was still hallucinating or if this was some kind of new reality, but either way, he needed help.

"H-Help," he called, but the airy voice from his parched throat almost didn't reach his own ears. He swallowed hard and attempted to stand, but his legs were too weak to carry him. Crawling forward on his arms, he called out again.

"H-Help!" This time his voice carried, but the yellow pegasus jumped and gave out a sharp squeak, hiding behind the coop. Anon's vision blurred as he tried to move forward through the pain, each drag fueling the fire burning across his skin and through his body.

"Hey! Help!" The pegasus peeked out from behind the little wooden shack, looking at him before quickly withdrawing again. "Help me, please!" Anon pleaded.

His strength left him after a few feet, and he collapsed in a heap on the path. "Please help me! Please..." Dirt pressed against his cheek as he let out his last attempts. Soon his eyelids became too heavy to keep open, and the last thing he heard were quick, nervous footsteps getting close.