The Place in Between

by Reverend Steven Rage

  * * * * *

  Yes, this is so much the better. Elron is dripping now so delightfully and seems to be on the dreadful verge of expiring. Not to worry, he has served his purpose and has served Us very well.

  The next phase is essential and is made possible because We have complete control of this puppet We inhabit. His name is Slow Bennie. His mind is weak and he now belongs to Us. Delightful. And as a collective merging into One, the thoughts and voices and needs have become MINE.

  Everyone’s opinions are controlled now by the singular Self inside this lone Slow Bennie shell. I am I and I can do what I will.

  The fish dehydrator is inspired. I can regain from Elron Hunt so much that has been diluted and lost. I will drink him dry, drink as much as I can stomach, as much as I can digest. It is a homecoming of sorts. Then, after I am done with him, I shall need to get some more.

  With the knowledge of Elron Hunt and the power of our rejoining, I know just where I have to go. I have become self-actualized and whole. Therefore, I know exactly what I need to do. I don’t know why I am and where I originated, but I’m going to find out everything. I swear to you I will.

  I shall go backwards…

  OCTO

  My Slow Bennie belly is uncomfortably full of Elron Hunt’s juices and bits. Much too distended for me to have enjoyed my very first bicycle taxi ride through The Harbor’s underground tunnel system. It was such a strange combination of sensations, too. I mean, on the one hand, the blood bounced around in Slow Bennie’s gut. The pain and urgent desire to vomit was horrible. However, every minute that I was able to keep it all down, the clearer everything became. The stronger and more in control I became of his body movements and reflexes. And, despite the fact that I, Crosstown Traffic, am still in my infancy as a sentient being within this water-headed meat puppet, I know just where to go and just what I need to do. It is much like opening up a book, one with all the right answers splayed out before me with no explanation required. Almost like downloading information and knowledge all at once. It is a heady feeling.

  And when all is done that must be done, I will still remain the young human male: Slow Bennie. Which means that I am the sole heir to a quite nice piece of GRID protected Harbor property. Slow Bennie was unable to conceive what that meant on his own. I know he never realized how important and valuable his sanctuary was. Uncle Elron did, I could certainly ascertain that from ingesting him, but he was far too troubled to take full advantage of it. But, hey, that’s no problem anymore, because I certainly do. Slow Bennie’s home will make a safe and comfortable launch pad for all my gnarly deeds manifested via my wicked, wicked ways. So, beyond the need to belch, void and defecate, things couldn’t be going better for yours truly, thank you very much!

  The bicycle taxi came to a halt at the address I gave the Halfling taxi driver. I had liberated Uncle Elron’s money purse before venturing forth, so I had cab fare at the ready. I stepped out of the open carriage and dropped – I wouldn’t touch the lizard claw – into his … whatever that thing he (she? it?) was holding out. The driver smiled, I think, and dipped the head in thanks. I was making my way toward the entrance to the Club when I had an inspiration. I turned back.

  “Say – uh – Buddy, how can I get a hold of you on the quick?” I asked.

  He (I’m leaning heavily toward male, now) stuck out a long gecko’s tongue and licked his left bulbous eyeball. He said: “Just tell the door-man to call Randall on your way out. I will be here in less than five long ticks.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, surprised at how civilized scale-boy was. “I’ll do just that. And the quicker you do get here,” I added, flashing Elron’s stack of Rupees, “the more of these you’ll earn. Dig?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Randall replied. He then climbed back on to the seat, kicked his tail out of the way, and began pedaling. He merged effortlessly into the phalanx of the funky and freaky that seemed to never really thin out.

  I entered the Balmy Breezes through some dry ice like vapor and paid an exceedingly stiff cover price to a diseased looking bouncer-type. He stamped Bennie’s hand and let me in through a thick, smelly wall of fish and chips, smoke and stale vagina. I liked it immediately.

  The seat I chose was at a table that was closer to the bar than the stage. I planted my anus on the plastic chair, reveling in the wonderful newness of it all. I glanced around, noting the other patrons and what they were doing. As I’ve said, as soon as I saw things, they made perfect sense to me. It was like I just needed a catalyst to get me going. The other patrons were alternating looks between the stage in the distance and the small touch-screens imbedded in the tables before them. They seemed to all have their cash stacked on the table, and were using the screens to make their choices. Pussy on tap. How very convenient.

  I placed my cash on the table top and peered at the screen. Apparently tonight was “Headliner/Amateur” night. The professionals were on the main stage, hence the steep cover, while the amateurs would work the lap-dance loop through the raucous bar crowd. There were plenty to choose from as far as lap-dancers went. The screen had pages of them. I was still gazing at the choices of women, boys, Halflings and whatnot when a server approached my table.

  “Good evening,” she said with a smile that was only missing a few teeth. Speaking of which, Bennie’s were starting to pain up something awful. I might have to get them all pulled soon. I’ll start over with some implants, like the ones Uncle Elron had. Anyway, the server asked what was my pleasure.

  “Are you running any specials tonight?” I asked with a big rotten toothy Bennie smile. The server glanced over her shoulder. She leaned in to me.

  “Sugar, I can get you a gram of Uptown Girl, a lap dance of your choice and two double Sterno Ethanols for only two hundred Rupees. You pay me up front.”

  “Sounds good, Love,” I replied and grabbed her hand.

  “Hey!” she began with a shout and a grimace of pain.

  I tugged her roughly down to me, “I may look nice, sweetheart, I may seem to you like a mark, but I assure you, I’m not.”

  “Ow, okay,” she said. She gazed into Bennie’s eyes and saw me. She believed. “Okay,” she repeated, understanding my intent.

  “I’ll give you the whole two bills,” I said, “and you are going to bring me what you promised. Tout suite, gorgeous.” She just nodded, took the cash, and walked away rubbing her wrist.

  I chuckled, feeling better now, and succeeding in forgetting Bennie’s dental woes for the time being. I looked at the screen at the available dancers. There was only the one choice for me: the red one. The screen said she would be available in a little bit.

  The main stage got nice and dark and the server brought back my gram and cocktails. They were ice cold and on the rocks. You know, ice not being too hard to come by. She set them all down and as she turned with a pout to leave, I slipped a fifty note in her waistband. She stopped, fearfully, but smiled when she saw the nice tip.

  “However,” I told her, “I do have my moments.”

  The server left just as the music began to swell and the stage got lit. I decided to join it and slugged back the first drink in three big grimace-inducing gulps. I dumped the gram right onto the table top. I could hear the Headliner taking the stage as I rolled up a Rupee note and stuck it in the white pile. I snorted up as much as I could, as fast as I could, then tipped my index finger into the second cocktail. I sopped up most of the remaining powder, rubbing and numbing it liberally over Bennie’s choppers.

  I looked up, sipping the second fire-water, much slower, getting ready to settle in and start the real plan. I was looking for her; the one that’s next. The dope was kicking though and the drink was softening my gaze, and that’s when my lap dance arrived and I was distracted anew. I do believe that red is my favorite color.

  The Halfling sidled up to my lap and placed a gentle hand on Bennie’s shoulder. I could feel her heat. She smiled seductively, really without even trying. She licked her fangs with her pink, forked
tongue. Her red devil’s skin was both hide and silk. Her horns were short and sharp.

  The demon Halfling danced slowly to the rhythm of Bennie’s pounding heart. She leaned in close and gently rubbed her hot face against Bennie’s warming one. And when she did, the trigger compressed again. I felt something there, faintly stirring beneath her skin. A memory; a series of them.

  It made me inhale sharply and snap reverse against my chair back. She stared at me, clearly confused at the turnabout. I was obviously into her, but now I must have seemed almost frightened. Admittedly, I was a bit disturbed, but more excited than fearful. She didn’t understand. She stared at me, deep inside Slow Bennie, trying to figure it out.

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

  “Oh, no,” I replied, thinking how odd to run into someone here that knows Him. She knows Him, the one I ultimately want. This beautiful Halfling knows the Creator.

  And she knows where He lay…

  “Please,” I say, smiling, turning back on the charm. I stand quickly and pull out a chair for the darling girl. She knows Him. I spotted the server nearby and called her back over. “Whatever this beauty wants,” I say, serious as a heart attack, “she gets.”

  “Of course, sugar,” she said to me. She raised her thoroughly pierced eyebrows at the dancer. “What’ll it be, honey? The Special?”

  The dancer nodded and I gave the server four big notes. “For the both of us,” I added.

  I handed to the dancer the remainder of my drink. She sipped at it while a gamely scraped the grains and remains of Uptown residue together to fashion for her a halfway decent line. She smiled at me and snorted it up, pinching her nose adorably afterwards.

  “Thank you,” she replied with her little tinkling of a voice. “You are very generous. Do you want me to finish your dance now?”

  “You are most lovely,” I admitted, easily enough in that it was true blue, but: “I’d rather enjoy your company instead, if you don’t mind,” I said and peeled off another hundred. I placed it beside her and she retrieved it with another one of her killer smiles. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind terribly sitting and talking with me for a bit? Maybe answer a few questions?”

  “Sure,” she said, “that’s fine.” I smiled back at her.

  The server returned with our Specials. I gave to her another one of Elron’s fifty notes and she got the message and left without a word. Good girl, that one. I took a sip.

  “Do you mind if we get high first?” she asked.

  “By all means,” I said, “That’s a first-rate idea, young Miss.”

  We spilled out our grams on the table and bent right to it. I pulled up, feeling the Uptown Girl in all its glory. I leaned back, rubbed some more on Bennie’s receding gum line. I picked up the Sterno Ethanol, jiggling the ice chunks. They tasted like they were gouged right out of the Lake, but I was feeling way too good to care about such trifles.

  I turned to look at the dancer. I asked her: “Do you know who makes this stuff?” indicating the Uptown. “Do you know how it’s done?”

  “Sure,” she replied, “Don’t you know? It’s no secret.” I didn’t answer that, I just kept on smiling at her, waiting for her to spill the beans. “Everyone knows him. He is a great man,” she finished, somewhat wistful.

  “I don’t doubt it,” I concurred. It was good gear. “But, who is he?”

  “He is The Good Doctor,” she replied. “He is The Harbor King.”

  “Excellent,” I said. I’d hate for him to be just some clever schlump. I thought a moment, “Do you know where I can find him?”

  The dancer just smiled at me.

  * * * * *

  I finished the rest of my gram, the dancer having moved on. I’d given her another hundred and the whole expensive diversion was well worth the cost. She’d told me many things. They were wonderfully detailed things about conjoined twins and a private lab. About the hospital the Creator ran and the all-important Damnation Scores. She explained that the very best drugs came from the ear wax and the dandruff of the twins. The rumors about the salt from their tears and the brand spanking new narcotic it produced. She told me their names, all of them. I then knew how I came to be, that it was the pile Slow Bennie gobbled up in his Uncle Elron’s room, and his before that, and so on and so forth, all the way back. It all became very clear to me. I understood the compulsion to consume the previous users. That was what I tried to gather unto to me, it really was my self, my essence. The urge, now that I know, is even stronger. It was all very fascinating and enlightening information that, I swear to you, I intend to put to good use.

  I sat back, contented and thinking long and hard about it all. I sipped the gut bomb and absently watched the main stage as the next Headliner prepared to make her entrance.

  It was a grand one at that. The jolt it gave me made Bennie sit straight up. There she was. I mean, this is why I came here, but it was still a marvelous joggle. The next one in line going backwards was there Headlining on the main stage. I should have known she would be a pro. I had wanted to eat her just like I did Uncle Elron, but it changed everything seeing her in the flesh. She had me inside her. I craved to go back in and not just to retrieve more of myself. There was much more to it than that. So, I just stopped right there, in the name of Love.

  What, I ask you, are the odds?

  My plans changed on the spot.

  NOVEM

  I had Randall follow the Headliner from the Club. He (I’m most positive, now, he’s a he) traveled down the tunnel, away from the Club, as she made her way home. I sat back and tried to stay my excitement by glancing around. There wasn’t much to see down here. There’s just the usual blend of the far-out and crazy – crazy in how they look, crazy in how they behave. Crazy. This place was in want of a killing spree. Maybe later.

  My Bennie’s heart was hammering like mad and I was almost more dizzy than I could stand. Randall was doing a fairly decent job of keeping her taxi in his line of sight. The nice length of sharp cutlery was still satisfyingly heavy. It was strapped to Bennie’s calf, hidden as it was beneath Uncle Elron’s ridiculous shapeless shift.

  I was going to gut her. Or, perhaps I was going to cut out her still beating heart and squeeze the hot blood into my open, waiting mouth. I was. But not now. Not anymore. Instead, I have decided that I’d much rather ask her to be my Valentine.

  Don’t you think that’d be sweet?

  * * * * *

  Donna had a bad feeling that she was being followed. The tunnels can breed that sort of paranoia. 3D chuckled to herself. She hoped it was only paranoia. She recalled an old hospital saying from before the C.E. You’re not paranoid if they really are out to get you. Too true, that.

  Regardless, she could not shake the feeling of someone, or something gaining on her. It was horrible. 3D even considered taking the long way and looping all the way around the giant underground circle instead of simply pulling into her garage, which was right up ahead. Once there, she could lock herself inside, but something nagged her not to do this. Donna listened to the fearing nag. She passed her casa and looped herself around.

  It would prove a regretful decision.

  * * * * *

  Randall slowed as she made it to her stop unharmed. I put my hand on his shoulder and ducked down a little lower behind it.

  “Hold still for a minute,” I told him. I watched as Sparkle got out of her taxi. The doorman for her complex (pretty nice digs…) held the door for her and she went inside. “How am I going to get in there?” I mumbled to myself.

  Randall heard me and he replied: “Why, that’s easy, Sir.”

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  “Because the Doorman’s a Downtowner, Sir.”

  I just stared at him as he slid out of the seat. He adjusted his tail and made his way over. I could see Randall talking to the doorman. Cash (mine) was exchanged. He nodded to me and that was my cue.

  I was in her building in two shakes. Finding her flat should have proved the most t
roubling of all, but she housed a part of me inside her already. I didn’t know then if she could feel me, but I sure could sense her. It was strong and drew me as a moth to a flame. I was on her door step and knocking, just like any legitimate gentleman caller or upscale customer. I was neither and when she opened the door, I shoved her inside. I locked the door on the quick.

  Sparkle back-pedaled, hitting a key table or something, and fell over. I felt bad. I tried to make amends and to make Sparkle feel safe. She wasn’t having any of it.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” I tried to explain.

  “What do you want, then?” she frightfully asked me.

  “To love you,” I replied.

  * * * * *

  The tunnels were full. Humans and Halflings alike were everywhere. Half of those lived there and the other half were just visiting or passing through. The tunnel system itself was shaped more or less like the jagged spokes on a worn down to the nub wagon wheel. There were fair to middling sized recesses and big enough alcoves in every corner. These dark and dank corners were where no sane being would want to be caught alone. That’s where she found herself.

  The poor thing.

  The tunnel rats were congesting these out of the way inky spots. They were a moveable congregation of sustenance, teeth and hunger. They were in all places and the tunnel rats represented both ends of the food chain simultaneously. Their over-sized eyes glowed fiercely in the dark as they scavenged those that had expired, or at least those of whom could not outrun the pack swarms. The tunnel rats bred rapidly and in large numbers, making them the shrimp of the A.C.E. subterranean world. The rats kept scores and scores of folks alive. When the pups were flash-fried, they popped similar to kettle corn. The older and meatier ones tasted just like chicken.