[Utopia] by Bluesman & PizzaPizza - The Dazzling Lads

Did the walk there have to be so agonizing?

I don't remember it being this exhausting.

"Ah…"

"..."

"I just...want to go back to sleep…."

Shuffling my feet, out of the little earnestness left in me, I wandered down a desolate road lit solely by gas lamps. Barren, just like my soul. I'd say it felt like home, but my frame of mind circled around one thought:

Misery.

The tightness of my chest as I wheezed and breathed in the smoky and brisk air. Bizarre sounds echoed down the street: moans, groans, and weird little shrieks that could only be the street urchins languishing in their alleys. I wasn't alone, but I felt painfully isolated. A man streaked in black I hardly recognized yet knew all too well had shambled in the opposite direction in the dead of night.

He barely sidestepped me, so we didn't bump into one another. His movements look strained as if it took his maximum effort. He chewed on the spine of some… rat? I pondered it for only a moment, as I couldn't be bothered as the man left my foggy mind in an instant.

"At least I'm not too Colorless. For now..." I mumbled, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. 

Nobody paid me a mind. For you see, I was infected by a sickness, Eudaimonia.

The word for good spirits. A horrible disease that infected the mind. It hasn't killed yet, but it made you wish you were dead... if that didn't take too much energy.

And to think-! Weeks ago-! I had wandered this same street, skipping, happily playing with my ball alone. I was the lucky one…

You see, I found a ball covered in gross sludge when I was busy exploring the sewer for my uncle. The Britannians and their gigantic foundries filled the sewers with this horrific diesel gas that may or may not have been bad for my lungs; my uncle didn't share the deets. I went down to roam to help my uncle find food.

The place was littered with lovely, recently exhausted animals that tried to take shelter from the scorching heat of the metal up above. Then I found it — a ball. A little blown-up red ball that must've fallen between the cracks from some negligent family.

Growing up, I hadn't seen as much as a wooden horse in the airships and trams. Even when my uncle and I came here to Whitechapel.

And on the ball, I drew a smiley face.

“*Sniff*- Mister Piłka…” 

I tried playing around with the ball with other kids along the way, but no one seemed to hop on the Mister Piłka train. They didn't like Mister Piłka like I liked Mister Piłka. Shame.

But then a tragic accident took my ball away from me moments ago, and now I had nothing except the last trickle-bitta of hope to keep going. My eyes started to tear up; I wanted to give up and just laze around in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to give into despair. But still, I trudged forward.

My messy, black hair was tied in random knots. It was the only way I could notify the roaming plague doctors that I was still okay, that I was still willing to give my time and lend my ear to the world. I invested in this hair, no matter how stupid it seemed or how insignificant. 

Plague doctors roamed the streets, huddled in packs as if their combined warmth kept the disease away. Their beaks were shown with luminescence, but their backs were saddled with sharp weaponry. Their cloaks were metallic, creaking as they bent and reflected the light off the beaks to the surrounding area. A sign to those still struggling not to succumb that there's still light in this dark, disgusting atmosphere.

And for those who succumb, their weapons proved efficient so the individual can finally let go of their misery.

"No...no way I can last another day like this…" Puffing up my cheeks, I shook my head around in my palms, holding in all the air possible before releasing it, a plume of smoke exhaling from my lips like I just took a big vape. 

I got good at making smog ovals; it helped pass the time.

"Okay! Okayokayokayokayokay!” I began a little dance, moving my body like I always saw the performers do while sneaking into those live shows years back. The girls were so bright and cheery, and the crowd was full of excited cheering boys. And when the girls did the skirt flips that made everyone blush… It. Was... Okay. Just okay.

No. It was amazing. I remember now!

Quickly slapping myself, I shifted into excited skipping as a less and less often surge of motivation struck. Making my way down the street, I felt the rush of excitement disappear as I shambled to the only place that lit up the horrid, dark streets.

Hotel Abraxa.

Before he basically went brain-dead, my uncle pointed me in this direction.

"There you might find peace. There were legends… legends! An alchemist is working on what we all sought for a many a year, yes! Eternal happiness! Get that for me, for both of us… Antoni!"

And then he started to drool, so I left to seek hope immediately. Despite the lack of context for those mad ramblings, he hasn't led me astray. I might as well, right?

Doctor Amoraut, a gentleman with heavy investments from Chartered Fuel, the gas company that fuels our continent. What a champion! I'm not as smart as him; all I can do is skip really freakin' well.

Who gives a damn about eternal life when you could go out in eternal bliss? 

That's what everyone sought in the end, but then the plague spread, and people couldn't take in happiness anymore. It was almost like- and forgive me for bringing up science stuff, I'm sixteen, and all I can do is read newspapers a little well, our happiness co-

I paused as I tried to figure out my word usage.

“Cota? Qota? What’s the Brittanian word for kontyngent?”

"..."

I continued to skip forward, trying to stop feeling numb. I liked the rhythm, the constant feeling of going.

My brain trailed back to wild thoughts as I appeared before the door to Hotel Swięto. The words that kids say when their imaginations go wild.

"The doctor is crazy! I hear they open people's BRAINS and POKE them!"

"My mommy got a cut on her leg, and then the doctor wanted to amputate it!"

Doctors scared me. Doctors scared the kids that I played with. Their words echoed in my head. 

But now they were all dead.

Well, not really, but basically. Husks of what they once were. So, then my brain trailed back to my uncle's words:

"If someone asks to open your brain, they are just looking to unpack your thoughts! They are nice and want to learn more about you. It's a figure of speech in Britannia."

He said this to me in our native Polanie. In case you haven't caught on, I'm not really from around here.

I knocked on the door once I arrived at its foot. It slid open suddenly, revealing someome or- something that took my breath away.

If I could describe her, I'd be trying to describe those spooky stories the other kids told by the gas kilns. 

The metal that lined the buildings outside surrounded her plush face. She had no mouth; instead, she had a layer of ivory block-like teeth that made up her jaw. Her nose was sharp and pointed. And her eyes gleaned a shimmering green. Her eyes were reddened like blood had seeped into the sclera. They were bloodshot and watering, but she didn't seem sad.

She seemed amused, very amused, and with a full array of slender, pale, and velvety fingers. Her dress was almost doll-like and clung to her body as if it were painted on. If you asked me to describe it, I would say it looked like a wedding gown that went all the way down to the floor.

It was white. A color I rarely see in this city. In Londonium, A city of bronze, green-yellow gas, and ashy smog.

But why am I describing things? I'm supposed to be talking with the woman, right?

"Salutations!" The woman exclaimed in a voice that sounded like a choir of springs singing in unison, "Please come in."

The hotel was small and dimly lit, with flickering candles everywhere except for the lobby, which was brightly lit by several chandeliers.

Each one cast its light upon countless little things dangling from the ceiling. It felt warm in here but weirdly comforting because everything smelled nice. I heard soft whispers muttering behind many closed doors, and I could see shadows jumping beneath the gaps in the door in front of me.

She gave me a questioning look back before returning what seemed like a smile with her ivory rows.

My first thought when she smiled was that there wasn't any other way she could have been born; her eyes were so perfectly aligned that her face could not give out a more human expression.

"Does the honored guest seek utopia?" Her voice was strangely mechanical, creaking like those giant gears on the buildings. It had such a high pitch, but it still somehow made sense. I shuffled my feet while my hands clutched nervously around, wishing I still had Mister Piłka.

"I...I do not know what this yoo-toe-pii is," I mumbled and stared at the ground. The walk here had been exhausting… and I felt it now.

The woman stepped aside, revealing the inside of the building as if to make space for me. A little hallway led straight into the darkness and ended in an open door. Light from inside cast across half of her face and down her body in shadows. It was like her outline stretched off further than just the walls behind her. Her eyes spun around in full circles before she answered me.

"Do not know...ah! Forgive me. I promise you. An Unpacking is quite a special process! Come then..." the woman uttered a sweet springy laugh and pulled back, beckoning me to come in again with her velvet fingers.

The light outside grew dimmer as she pushed herself away, so all that remained now was soft candlelight that lit up half of her form, creating two distinct parts of shadow that clung onto each other. She opened the door fully and ushered me inside.

"Pardon my rudeness! I am Helen," she spoke softly and strangely melodically. "The doctor's secretary and... daughter of sorts."

"It's nice to meet you… ummmm…Helen..." I started awkwardly, searching desperately for something to say, but I couldn't find anything. I should say something else, shouldn't I?

The room was surprisingly cozy, furnished with many pillows and overstuffed armchairs scattered about in various red and gold shades. My feet sunk into the plush rug as I walked across it. All I could do was watch them sink in, yet they seemed so incredibly soft that they cushioned out any sensation. There was food on the table - fruits and nuts, but despite the gnawing hunger that ate at me...I couldn't find the motivation to shamble up to it.

"Oh my! You poor child, you are entering the late stages already. Fret not, though! The doctor is open right now and will be happy to have someone new to share his love with!" Helen said as she pressed a few delicate, leathery fingers on my palm.

She watched me, observing me. I thought she would surely blink, but she didn't. The woman continued smiling like her ivory blocks that served as lips had been glued on.

"Let us inform the good doctor then! If we hurry, he might be willing to do another Unpacking tonight!" She spoke in a singsong voice. Then her eyes lit up red, and she spun around abruptly towards the back of the house with me in tow.

I was...mildly impressed by how smooth her movements were as she moved me along without any signs of struggle.

The back door opened on its own, revealing a bright room with half a dozen people. They had their faces twisted into strange happy expressions, and odd scents filled the air. Through my fading mind, I could make out that they were happy to see this woman from the stretchers they were strapped to. Their red eyes all turned to look at me in delight. I found it fascinating how varied their skin textures were. Each of them had a single hole immaculately drilled on top of their heads.

A man in a white coat stood tall at the center of this room, gesturing for us to come forward. He turned his face to look at us and smiled, flashing a row of teeth that reminded me of some sort of saw blade.

"Welcome to Hotel Abraxa," he smiled happily as the woman and I approached him.

"Hello..." I replied lazily.

"I trust getting here wasn't too difficult?" The doctor asked me before turning towards a woman standing beside him. He squinted and stared at her eyes for a second before shaking his head.

"Ah, you are due for maintenance, Helen. Please stand by until I take care of our guest."

"Thank you, sir," She responded and laid back on an oversized chair. Her bright red eyes faded to pale green as she stopped moving. Huh. That's interesting for a woman to do.

"Now, about that Unpacking..." the doctor said as he took my arm and guided me toward an operating table covered in a thin layer of blood-red cloth. It was covered with needles, saws, pipes, and tubes. 

In the middle was an unnaturally perfect sphere filled with a red glowing liquid that pulsated rhythmically. It reminded me of something. 

Something I cared about. What was it I cared about?

"For the sake of time and your happiness, I will do this right away. For now, make yourself comfortable."

Everything was hazy for me as the doctor dabbed around my forehead with a cloth that smelled sweet.

What’s happening? Who cares? Why would I care about such a thing at this point? 

It didn't hurt much when he drew from the red sphere and jabbed straight into my arm with a needle either. So, why should I care about something so stupid like pain?

I heard a crackling noise from below and thought it was interesting. 

Was this something medical? Did I want to know about that? I didn't.

"Let us begin then!" the man spoke cheerfully, and I tilted my head back up.

The lights faded, and my vision blurred. I could only focus on the doctor's face as he held a needle over me.

I didn’t know why, but as my consciousness left me…

I matched his smile.