Delirium

“So you absolutely promise that we’re using a ladder and not parachuting out of this helicopter or anything crazy like that?”

“Willya shuddup already, how many times do I hafta tell ya that?”

“I know I know but I can’t even watch people skydive on TV because it makes me sick to my stomach. I’m not scared of heights or anything but something about jumping from a high point makes no sense to me, so please could you just confirm it one more time?”

“I’ve done this a buncha times before already so trust me when I say that we use a ladder, now leave me alone wontcha?”

“Don’t worry Bentley, there’s really nothing to it. I promise there will be no jumping so just try and relax,” Chuck said.

“You’re right, thanks Chuck,” Bentley said.

“That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya the entire time!”

“Yeah but I trust it a lot more coming from Chuck,” Bentley said.

“Why I oughtta—”

Chuck clamped a hand over Jack’s mouth and held a finger to his lips with the other before nodding to the girl leaning against him. Corinne had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting the run-down from Chrysanthemum. She snored loudly for someone her size and drooled a little bit onto the coat of Chuck’s uniform.

“Let her rest a little longer,” Chuck said.

“And did you say ‘Why I oughtta’? Are you a character out of a Sunday morning cartoon or something?” Bentley’s comment only served to make Jack even angrier. Jack’s knuckles went white as he gripped both of his maces as tight as he could. He slowly drew a finger across his neck while staring down Bentley. After genuinely being held at knifepoint by Chrysanthemum though, Jack’s threat hardly did anything to shake Bentley.

The headquarters below them had long since given way to empty fields. The empty fields had in turn began to be spotted with houses until they became full fledged neighborhoods. These neighborhoods then had started to bleed into the city that the helicopter flew over now. It fascinated Bentley being able to watch the timeline of human industrialization over a 10 minute helicopter ride. He looked at all the people walking around below, the trite comparison of people looking like ants from far above must’ve been trite for a reason because they really did look like bugs to Bentley. The city was beginning to blend together the longer Bentley looked at it so he settled back into his seat and closed his eyes.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

This was a noise Bentley knew all too well.

He opened his eyes to an almost entirely empty helicopter. Jack, Chuck, Corinne, The mime, none of them were anywhere to be seen. Now seated directly across from Bentley was a haunting figure that still evaded Bentley’s understanding.

The lemur man.

Bentley felt his hands begin to shake. The baseball bat, his only sense of comfort in times like these, had disappeared along with his teammates. However, this meeting with the lemur man was different from last time. Bentley could tell that this was not a dream. His mind was racing too fast for him to consider the implications of this but at the very least he knew one very important benefit of this not being some illusion.

“Who are you?” His voice did not fail him this time.

The lemur man just tilted his head in response as if he couldn’t understand, despite him having spoken perfect english in Bentley’s dream. Bentley questioned though whether the dream sequence held any legitimate weight in reality. It all could have been a product of his brain dealing with the immense stress of having fought a Cerb, or his mind’s natural reaction to the sleeping drugs he had been slipped by Chrysanthemum. He decided there were too many bizarre occurrences within the dream for it to be any more than a hallucination. The lemur man may not know how to speak after all, but then the question arose of why he was there and what had happened to his teammates. It had become increasingly difficult over the last few weeks for Bentley to distinguish fact from fantasy.

“Can you speak?” The lemur man remained silent in response to Bentley’s question.

Bentley tried to figure out how to bypass this language barrier, if Grady the mime were here then perhaps he could enlist his help for charades. Alas, his friends had been transported to some unknown area while Bentley remained.

“Or maybe it’s me that got moved somewhere,” Bentley thought. He put a pin in this thought for now, seeing as how it was irrelevant at the moment, all that mattered was the fact that he and his team were now in different places with only minutes remaining before they had to be dropped to fight a Cerb. An idea on how to communicate with the lemur man popped into Bentley’s head.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Bentley tried his best to replicate the slow, methodical claps of the lemur man. For some reason the echoing sound of the claps felt weird coming off of Bentley’s hands, like he was holding some disgusting creature. As his claps got louder, his palms began to sting and take on a red color. The lemur man straightened his head and stared directly at Bentley, seemingly completely entranced by the hypnotic applause he loved so much. Each clap sent a coinciding chill down Bentley’s spine but he had no choice but to continue seeing as how this was the first thing to get a reaction from the lemur man. He had no idea how he would turn these claps into a conversation but all he cared about was the fact that he was now holding the lemur man’s attention completely, which had to somehow be a step forward towards resolving the strange delusion he found himself trapped in. As Bentley continued clapping, the lemur man slowly began to lean forward. He leaned forward until the tip of his snout was inches away from Bentley’s own nose. All the while Bentley maintained his steady claps, not allowing himself to be intimidated by the strange entity. The lemur man’s mouth slowly opened, just as it had in Bentley’s dream. He had no idea what to expect, surely it had to be a person under the lemur suit but what language they’d speak or noise they’d emit was just as much a mystery as anything else about them. Bentley tried his best to remain focused on the claps, feeling the breath of the lemur man on his clammy face. Finally, the lemur man spoke.

“That’s right. Clap at your own inadequacy. Clap at your own powerlessness. Clap until you return to the nothingness from whence you came and which you are destined to become.”

“So you can talk!” Bentley was so proud of himself for getting the lemur man to speak that he had failed to fully comprehend the harshness of the words that had been spoken.

“I can speak but I generally choose not to unless a reason is present, especially to nothings such as yourself Bentley Flynn,” the lemur man said.

“How do you know my name?”

The lemur man’s facial features all curled upwards into a grin that radiated violence.

“What kind of master would I be if I did not know the name of my most precious pawn?”

“You have a funny way of treating someone precious to you then,” Bentley said, “And I don’t know about all this pawn business, I’ve always been more of a checkers guy.”

“My dear Bentley, all I did was tell you the truth. You are precious to me because you are nothing. Can’t you see that?”

“I feel bad for your wife if that’s your idea of a compliment.”

“Yes, that’s it Bentley,” The lemur man said, “Mask your terror with humor.”

“If you’re here to tell me that I mask my emotions too much then get in line.”

“I see you have already started to grow stronger and all it took was for a few strangers to acknowledge your existence. A most interesting and dangerous piece you will be indeed. I love it, I love it, I love it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but I don’t intend to participate or be a piece in whatever game you’re talking about,” Bentley said.

“Ah but the match is already in motion Bentley. Even I cannot say when or where you got tangled up in all this, but now you are an integral part of it. All I can do is promise you that it will be a most exciting battle of the minds. The prize at stake also happens to be one that I imagine you will find rather intriguing.”

“What’s at stake?” Bentley’s eyes narrowed as he sensed the malice behind the lemur man’s last statement.

“To reveal the end game too early would be a horrid strategic approach, do you not agree?”

“Quit messing with me, just give me a straight answer,” Bentley growled.

“Savor the taste of that anger boiling within you, it will be a vital asset to your development.”

Bentley clenched his teeth as the all too familiar red film began to color his vision. His nails dug into his palms until they began to draw blood. His hands had formed fists without him even having to think about it. Something about this lemur man, exuding such an air of superiority as he degraded Bentley but simultaneously insisting his importance as a piece of some strange chess match. The strange combination of love and loathing that this character exuded threw Bentley for a loop and made him want to punch a hole in his stupid mascot face.

“I’ll give you one chance to explain all of this to me in a way that makes sense before I lose my patience with you,” Bentley said.

“And I will give you one chance to show me the fruits of your rage before I return you to the hell that awaits you,” the lemur man replied.

Bentley had heard enough. He reeled back his fists and threw the most devastating punch he could muster directly at the side of the lemur-man’s face. It had enough power to render any normal man unconscious if it landed right. Bentley had never been in a fight but he felt confident that he could hold his own in a street brawl. His fist prepared to collide with the fuzzy temple of the lemur man. The lemur man just clicked his tongue like a parent scolding their child.

Bentley’s arm shattered like glass before reaching the lemur man’s face.

He stared in shock at the fragments of his arm that littered the floor of the helicopter.

His eyes moved to the now emptied shoulder socket, containing no hint of the arm that had once filled it. There was no immediate pain, just horror. A scream caught in his throat, choking him for a moment before forcing itself the rest of the way out. His brain felt as if it were being mercilessly minced.

“I see that was too much for your fragile mind to handle,” the lemur man said calmly.

“What the Hell did you do to me?”

“Taught you an important lesson like the master I am. Pieces must be absolved of free will before they can truly be useful,” the lemur man said.

“You’re insane,” Bentley said, his heart racing to the point that he felt like he might have a heart attack on top of everything.

“Worry not Bentley. As I said, it is merely a lesson. Nothing that cannot be undone. To push you more may drain you of the strength to serve so I will return you to your reality,” the lemur man sighed.

“What are you?” Bentley gripped the shoulder that had once held an arm with his free hand as phantom pains began to tear his soul to shreds.

“Someone who can’t wait until we meet again,” the lemur man said with that same vile grin. He pressed two fuzzy fingers into Bentley’s eye sockets and everything went black.