Updated: Apr 27
John Martin was suddenly awake. He looked around, What the fuck? He was in a spacious room. It felt clinical for some reason, The color of the floor was medical green The light in the room was dimmed by a black curtain far up on the wall at the end of the room. It covered a midsize window. Bad news. He quickly discovered that his hands and legs were bound by some kind of strips. His body was placed on a black bar stool with a rounded metal base. He was actually sitting in some kind of bar. His mind was blurry, fragmented and his thoughts flashed in sync with his pulse. His heart was pumping fast. Too fast. What the fuck was going on? In front of him was a glass that seemed to contain water. He was thirsty and his body screamed for nourishment. A voice suddenly cut through the natural echo in the room. Hello John. He looked around, trying to pin-point the source of the voice. The silence was maddening. He thought he heard someone breathing. The dark voice cut through the silence again like a knife through sweet butter. We want information! About what? John asked. His voice was weak and his mouth tasted metallic. The voice responded. Louder this time. Where is the Nexus?
What the fuck are you talking about? John shouted! I will nexus your fucking ass. Get me out of here, you motherfuckers. The breathing in the room seemed louder to John now.
The voice came back, it snapped like a viper. Last chance John! Behind you we have placed two Pit Bull Terriers. They have not been fed food or water in almost two days and they are hungry now. Very hungry. If you don't reveal where the Nexus is now, we will let the dogs feed on you. I understand you are not fond of dogs! The voice chuckled. John tried to keep calm. I don't know anything about a Nexus or what ever. You have the wrong guy. What the fuck is a Nexus anyway? He could smell the dogs now. They were moving. The voice returned. So be it John. We will find the Nexus anyway. The voice was gone for a minute but then it was suddenly back. It sounded crisper this time, the sound had changed. By the way John, we know that you like your drugs, so we decided to give you a large dose of LSD two hours ago. The effects will soon begin to take over your mind and body. Your last trip John. The room feel silent. John's heart was beating even faster. He was scared. He hated dogs. A Rottweiler had bitten him when he was a child. The scars from that horror had never really healed. He had to escape. Find a way, do something. Chances were slim, he was old. Even if he managed to cut loose from the hard strips that teared into his wrists, he could not fight two pit bulls without any weapons. The LSD was kicking in now. He could feel his reality alternate. He tried to relax. He had taken LSD before. John focused on his breathing. First he had to slow his heart down. If he could hear his heart beating fast, so could the dogs. He knew predators reacted to increased heart beat, perspiration and sweat. If he could relax deeply and get into the groove of the LSD, he might stand a chance to control the dogs. Madness, he thought. But what other options did he have? John had heard stories from the San Peoples the last time he had visited Zambia. One of the hunters had told him while hunting a lion, that when humans were in a heighted state, some animals could be controlled by the human mind. He had to put himself in a trance. A pure state of mind, opened but controlled and clear. He had to become one with the LSD.
He relaxed. He looked at the bar in front of him. It was an actual bar with beer taps and everything. The edge of the brown wood was perhaps five centimeters higher then his right elbow. If he could manage to get loose, then climb on top of the bar fast, he would be elevated enough from the ground to survive a bit longer. He turned slowly on the stool. The bottom edge of the bar seemed sharp, He maneuvered his body again. There! His wrists were aligned with the edge. John started to grind the strip against it. It was working but it made a screeching sound. The dogs were moving towards him now. He could see one of them. It had just passed him and was circling the bar. It's face was black, except for the area around the nose that was very white. The body was muscular and the eyes looking back at him were orange. They both had a solid silver chain around their necks.
John looked the dog in the eye and talked to it. He was on a trip now. Hello dog, he said! I am on a trip and you are here with me. John tried to keep his voice calm. The other dog suddenly jumped around the chair, touching his left leg with his nose. Like sharks, thought John. They will touch you with the snout first, then return faster and faster until they bite. He looked at them both. Closed his eyes. Feel the LSD John. Feel it. He tried to remember the name the San hunter had told him. Sasha! It meant water. Good water! He started saying the name over and over, calming himself down. His heart rate slowed. The strip snapped. His hands were now free. He looked at his legs but his body was floating. So were the dogs and the room. He leaned down with his long arms very slowly, and managed to open the strip around his legs. One dog snapped at his heal as John stood up on the bar stool. He almost fell but then in one movement, jumped onto the horseshoe shaped bar. The bar was around 170 cm tall, but the dogs could jump that easy if they wanted to. He was tripping but kept chanting the name Sasha. He felt wonderful. It was all clear to him now. The dogs were barking loudly and growling up at him. He looked into the shelf above the bar and found a can of tomato juice. I love you, he told the dogs and opened it and threw it in the air. The juice landed on top of the head of the first dog and the can on the other dog. The remaining juice splattered on the green floor. The dogs were confused. They smelled the juice and started licking it with their pink tongues. There was a fridge under the bar and in his mind John swam down and collected some content. In reality he was doing nothing. He found two more cans of tomato juice on another shelf and it was then he spotted the bottle of the whisky in the end of the bar. I am crazy, he was chanting now. The dogs were still juicing. He managed to grab the bottle, it seemed like velvet. He opened it and drank. It too tasted like velvet, but a stronger river of blue velvet. John rode the currents. He could see the fish in it. He was actually now fishing. He filled a bowl with all the tomato juice and had another dram. Then he poured the whisky into the tomato juice. He found brown sugar and added that too. He was now that British chef Heston or something. He stirred it all together with his fingers. In a movement that he thought was super fast, he put down the bowl on the floor and got back on the bar. One of the pit bulls missed his leg by inches. The big jaws made a clicking sound as the razor sharp teeth connected. I love you my friends, he said again. It was all organic now. He could see straight through the wall. He could feel the fabric of time. The stars were the wind and his hands were woven into the great texture of time. The dogs sniffed the bowl. Their inept senses told them that something was not right with the juice but their thirst was primary. They both started drinking from the bowl. The whisky was a cask strength Lagavulin. The alcohol percentage was somewhere in the realm of 55% strong. When the bowl was empty they turned their attention back to John. Both dogs became more agitated, but they were also very drunk. The alcohol was pure poison for the dogs and they suddenly started to whimper. John was tripping into another galaxy. He looked at the window. He felt some light shine through. His body was hyper sensitive. He was still wearing the same clothes. In his jacket he found the Ronson lighter. He poured the whisky on a big cloth from the bar and tested the flame as he flicked the lighter. It burned. The dogs were now vomiting and suffering badly from the good whisky. He aimed for the window but instead the cloth landed on top of the back of both of the dogs and they caught fire. The dogs had become too sick to run. They tried to roll to kill the flames. John squirted more whisky on the dogs and they were now both burning. He suddenly needed relive himself. He took out his dick and pissed one of the pit bulls straight in the eye. I forgive you dog, he shouted! The smell of burning pit bulls was pure, he thought as he watched the animals in the increasing flames that engulfed their dogginess. He got down to the floor and looked around. He found a water bottle, 2 Heineken beers and chocolate in the small fridge. He also located a cheap bottle of vodka. John Martin watched as the spirits left the Pitbull Terriers. Small blue flames of light that sparkled like stars. He took in the room. Was there a door? Yes! Was it locked. Yes! Was he organic? Yes indeed! The door was red. He looked at the window again. He swam over with a chair. He rose on top of the chair. He removed the black curtains. The window had hatches. It was not big but perhaps just big enough. He worked the hatches and the glass glided open without a sound. He looked outside. Ground level. Sunny. That works, he said aloud. He then collected the beer, chocolate, water bottle and the Vodka. After pissing some more on the dogs, he climbed out of the window. Behind him the Pit Bulls were still burning and the smoke exited with him.