Gasp. Defines shock, confusion, sometimes pain in a silent way of breaking the silence just a little. In my case it was all three. Tied up and sweaty… at least my gasp wasn't as loud as whatever this truck was.
I try to break out of the knot around my hand… it does come loose. And I take out the loose cloth that is around my mouth.
'Do not disturb. Stay silent.' A sign flashes… nothing else, just that in this dark… place. It was some kind of a huge… enclosure. I could see bits of light from the tiny gaps in the roof – not quite thorough, but well, it didn't help much except tell me that it was noon still.
The same as when I… got unconscious. Perhaps another day or two for all I know.
I hear monkey noises as I see one of those monkey emoticons of it covering its mouth. As I stare, my body jumps up at a gunfire which puts a hole in the sign… leaving red flowing… liquid – pouring out of the gap.
Message received. Is that why they… tied my knots so loose?
My breathing does get heavier, luckily I don't get shot because of the noise. Yet I try to calm myself down. My therapist told me that controlling ones breathing will get them in control of their feelings – and hence: their actions.
Not that I was someone with that many issues, no. Though… silences are eerie. A kind of dark fog emanates out of my head and surrounds it in silence, you see. Dark clouds that make me sad. Suicidal. Angry. Sometimes… maniacal enough to laugh.
'Commercial break', a sign says.
"Hola! Buenas tardes. Gracias por jugar a 'Tu turno' o 'Your turn'," a happy spanish voice plays as a duck dances on the board. The English pronounciation was immaculate. "Donde te enfrentas a tus miedos. Como entiendes muy poco español, queremos asegurarnos de arriesgarnos y dejarte perder por unas instrucciones tan mal entendidas que no entiendes."
All I could understand was the greeting and the comment on me not understanding Spanish. And the game… 'Your turn', so I was here. Lucky me.
"Eh, you don't have to worry about," a Russian accent comes out. "Tick tick-"
"And with that kind of a cruel start, our contestant yet won. Thaliya!" now that was Hindi, meaning 'applause'.
I get up from my chair as everyone cheers but I don't hear a thing; only my own heartbeat. Anxiously I climb the stairs, trying not to look behind and find faces which… would mean a lot, and in this dangerous game to know faces meant… another, deeper, darker pit.
I don't even hear my own strong steps in these boots. Fancy boots. I loved owning them.
My hands stretch as I sulk my figure to hold the cheque, with desperation.
"Big cheque…" I hear a French accent now. "Per favor," I hear in a lady's voice.
I just look at his face and he gives me… no he… he looks sick. I worry how he is holding the huge cheque in his hand and just then he drops the cheque upon my boots.
I look closely as I try to grab it, it says '2.99792458 tons'.
That's just 3 right?
But the thud on my foot makes me throw back my head and hit a wall. I whimper in a muffled tone and try to feel myself into the reality. Dust in the air, and some sort of soot or something. I could smell… something funny.
"Per favor," I hear in the same voice again.
I look towards it, finding the source… a woman, I think, hard to tell, with just a mouth on her face… no the rest was clearly covered, but the… whatever it was covered with was… too good at blending around with the background.
"Per favor," she requests again, smelling towards my scent… ah… that scent was from me.
I just hold my breath and don't make a move. The lady continues to desperately chant the same but I don't move. I knew what is to come. The poor soul must've known too…
"PER FAVOR!" she screams and swings her body at me.
It'll be fine as long as I don't-mmpf. Oh lord.
Her teeth find my thigh and bite at my flesh.
But I… I should've been protected. I was silent. What the fuck. Please… what the fuck.
I slap her face, but she makes noises like a rabid dog, thirsting for flesh, and doesn't let go. I try pushing my leg to her shoulder, even through my cramp, but that makes me only cry with pain as her teeth still don't accept defeat.
Right then the door opens.
"No please. I'm sorry," I plead, but the gun cocks. "Please."
The person aims at my head and shoots as I plead for him to stop. I only hear a buzz, and laughter beneath it. The girl smirks and laughs at me. Her face comes closer to mine and she licks the blood off of my ear.
The guy allows it. He only watches as she licks my ear and starts biting at its broken flesh.
It hurts.
I jerk her away… but the guy doesn't react.
But she seems disappointed and looks at the man. He simply unpockets two yarnballs of papers and throws one at each of us. I undo mine and see: 'Task: Kill. Penalty: Silence'.
I hear laughter and lift my head to find her laughing again.
"He doesn't even have a pretty face. But it'll be easy to rip it out," she tells the man and herself. Finally looking at me she says, "Stay alive. I like when they give me their Lowly Screams. It has been my personal favourite theme recently."
I move sideways as she pounces like some animal, and throws herself to the wall which was behind me. I put my leg to her jaw as she bears her teeth at me.
I couldn't even ask why she was doing this… even when the task was that… what the fuck was… I did not sign up for this.
Silence. That was my fear. And light seems to be her's, as she hisses like some vampire as the lights turn on.
And everything fades.
No it forms.
Everything forms.
A new reality.
"Follow me," somebody guides me.
I've been here. But as I see back through the crowd, I see her face; smiling at me. Licking her teeth where my flesh is stuck.
"Sir?" he has my attention again. "Do you wish to die? Don't think of asking for help. Begging is… not the kind of candidate we expected you to be."
I feel an itch down my cheek. But I only follow him.
I enter to an empty subway, with some music… violin… calming but… eerie. A tune I had made. It scared me.
I feel paranoid.
No. I was certain it was around.
I couldn't hear it. I couldn't scream.
The man laughs at me as I open my mouth but only let the thing… enter through there. Even when it takes seven minutes to enter, I cannot make a sound.
"Seven minutes of silence? Really? You dare give such a title? What the fuck about the piece you made?"
I couldn't tell him that I couldn't perform it. As I stare at the audience, I could see all of them humming to it, even before I could play.
I could only think of smashing my head with my violin. But instead I stood there for seven minutes, without playing the silent melody which I had created. For it was too maddening.
And every night I dream of those seven minutes as I scream in silence. And the creature eats my insides… or fills it, I think. The melody vibrates in my bones. There are no bones, but my gut twists with the melody as I cannot ask for help.
Creation is… maddening. They wouldn't understand.
And I could only stay silent to their questions. As I am silent every night as I follow the man who takes me to the stage, a subway where two trains crashed head-on as I played that maddening melody.
And the failed screams of the passengers was mine… and I couldn't speak even when I had time. Because they listened to it and hummed for seven minutes, as they got on the train.
Silence is maddening.
The hums screech and I feel myself open my mouth to scream.
Pain… is maddening. To stay silent through pain. But no one cared enough to listen… I couldn't ask for help and make them understand my pain.
I hear a light chuckle from near my chin, and hold her neck and the top of her head. She doesn't stop biting, so I put her head to the wall. I hear a crack… and my chin bleeds.
She angrily holds the gun which was in the guy's hand. And I just stare at her with my mouth open.
Seven minutes.
She doesn't move. I count the seven minutes. Humans, I think, dream the last minutes of their life – a summary of how their life went. All in a blitz.
But my seven minutes only play the melody.
Maddening.
Unsettling.
This quiet in that melody as the people hum.
But she finally moves, breaking the strings of the violin.
"You cannot do a thing if we don't fuck up," she says, looking at the guy's legs.
He really didn't budge at her when she took the gun from his hands… but his composure shivers as she says that.
"You do have a pretty face… it'll work for me," she smiles big, but the guy doesn't say anything – just looks ahead. "You…" she says to me. "Per favor… kill?"
And like a monster I crawl towards her and take the gun she loosely holds. I put the gun forward to his forehead – crashing into it and I watch another person collide from something so fast.
He falls, and I watch.
I was used to seeing deaths.
It was the time that killed him.
Like the people died in that train. It was the tune.
I couldn't have stopped it. What'd I have done? Say I heard some talk and beg them to listen to me and make them understand?
They couldn't.
They wouldn't.
I made the tune to make their passing easier. They looked happy before they died, while listening to my artpiece.
I only watched.
It was the tune.
And the tune makes the girl mad. She rips and eats his face. And even his brain. Yes she was just destroying the traces of the tune in his head.
He'll go to heaven.
…
She dances as I play my tune. She was mad enough. Happy even.
She was the only one who hadn't died because of my tune.
I don't look at the audience, I only look at her dance as she does her ballet dance.
That was what she was. Not some cannibal or some killer, no. She did the task as she was told to.
So did I.
We are no killers.
I don't hear anything.
The seven minutes pass and the host guy appears.
As I try to look at his lips my head aches and I hear a whirring.
"Stay closer to her," I hear the voice from my head, and follow its lead. I could only hear myself in that voice… nothing else.
The host claps his hands and smiles and shake out hands. The camera LED glares onto my violin. But I look past it, at the board with the dialogues the guy had to say.
'It is good news to know that the two of them are recovering from their respective accidents. Lady is fine, and can do her ballet properly. But him… the great violinist, second in the international competition. He is still recovering. His leg is fine now, but he still cannot speak. But can you hear us? Are you still with us.'
The board stops, and I snap out to look at the guy. He just stares at me… hopeful.
"Nod," the voice in my head shrills.
And I nod.
And we successfully exit the stage… and I lookback to stare at the final message on the screen.
'Good luck on the gameshow: Your turn. I hope both of you win.'
"You can hear me though, can't you?" I hear a fading voice and look at her… walking while smiling, holding my arms.
She looks at me, but I don't get a command on what to do.
I wasn't even supposed to hear her voice. The drill… the tune… the device in my ear that stopped me from hearing my tune. If made sure but…
I nod to her.
"Good… if you ever betray me in there…" her smile fades, but she wears one while looking back at me. "Remember, we are in this together. We killed one guy. We can kill more. Win. Together. Ok?"
I slightly nod.
"Don't worry… he won't say anything. He wishes we put more chaos in there."
He?
And she seems to understand and chuckles, as if she had heard my silent question. She comes closer to my ear and I watch her lips part.
"Zhang. Yackinzie."