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Chapter II

Escape from Escapism

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Cobwebs and dust covered the stale room. A husky, his fur just as dusty and black as his surroundings, sat in front of a rounded mirror, the one and only thing that seemed clean among the room's decorations and furniture. The man's clawed fingers ran through his fur and over his face, looking for grey hairs that he could pull out. He had not moved from this position for at least an hour, but the very concept of time did not enter his mind as he looked on himself as if in a trance.

The one he saw framed in the mirror was Zachariah, far from any romanticized self-portrait, brown eyes with no reflection stared out from their sunken holes, his tired skin hanged on his face like a rag. The first real thought in a while formed in his head, one of disgust, he was tearing himself apart, slowly at the pace of a moving glacier. His arms were filled with muscle-power yet no will to use it, he pinched them. First two times, then three times, then four times, he repeated the compulsive ritual several times before stopping, mind at rest.

A craving scratched at his insides, he tried to bear it for a while, telling himself he needed to resist. Soon his thoughts changed, if he didn't give in to the craving, then what? Should he sit alone with his thoughts as his only company and slowly go mad? No, just giving in for one more day would not do any harm.

The husky walked like a tortured apparition to the cupboard. The rotten wood opened with a loud creak, his brows raised themselves almost above his head in surprise, the bottles he had expected in there were all empty. He scoured through them like a mole sniffing out its food, but the psychoactive drugs he sought were nowhere nearby. A nervous reaction shot through his mind, he had to go out to the store to get more, but at this early hour and in his state of mind even that could be a risky affair.

"Maybe I can bear it?" Zachariah mumbled with shivering words, by instinct he began to pinch himself again. He looked out the window to the view of the city below, he had asked himself for this house in its heyday, nicely located by the shade of the forest with a large garden, now desolate and ruined by incessant rain. Zachariah took his old cloak over his weary shoulders and left down the stone path, he felt his fur stand on end as he stretched his body in the cold morning air, the dew and mist over the ground further enhanced the strange refreshing sensation.

The city of Kabusalla was filled with noise, a hysterical choir of terror echoed in every corner. The inhabitants crept about like cockroaches fleeing the light of day while imperial guards marched through in their steel blue tights and banners.

It had not always been this way, the husky remembered back to his colorful youth. His fur had been a beautiful jet black back then, when the city had been filled with joyful life, until the Empire to the north decided to set its eyes on their city. The Empire had released a new product free on the market, the potion called brainfog. A concoction invented by one of the world's most rare wizardry-types, the psychonauts, unlike any other intoxicating beverage brainfog had the peculiar effect of bringing a person's dreams and fantasies to life, so even others could see them in the flesh. The side-effects were manifold: depression, stress, weak heart, blood thinning, suicidal thoughts, extremely addictive with an almost unavoidable risk of death, nothing but a nightmare-drug.

The Empire laid siege to Kabusalla as the people's debt to them increased, taking full advantage of their softened skulls by putting the addicted inhabitants to work under their flag. Zachariah was one of the lucky ones, he had certain control. He as a lucid dreamer knew how to summon what he desired to reality with the drug, some whispered of the possibility of Zachariah being a psychonaut himself, a flattering rumor he did not mind reveling in. He had used this quality to rise in the ranks and was eventually allowed a cautionary status alongside the imperial usurpers. But the things the husky had to do to reach that secure seat filled a deep black hole in his chest, and it had only been a matter of time before his mind slowly rotted from the inside like everyone else.

A man holding a broken bottle of brainfog laid on the street, a horde of fist-sized spiders crawled over his kicking body. Zachariah ignored him like a common beggar. People living out their nightmares were only a natural sight in Kabusalla after all. He felt sick to his stomach, for all the injustice in front of him, but he was as big a part of it as anyone else in this broken city. Things kept running thanks to the tyrants that reinforced the corrupted laws, Zachariah had enjoyed many privileges due to his military police work. But tonight would be different, tonight he was just another commoner in need of a fix.

The store stood alone at a street-corner near the docks, a two-story house with a bleak green painted façade. No lights were lit. The owner was still somewhere else, awaiting the sun to come up on the horizon no doubt. The addiction pushed him on. He tried the door handle and looked through the foggy windows, despite knowing it would not do anything.

As he sat down on a hard bench his ears twitched, he had heard something, originating from behind the store. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't imagining things, a needless action as he soon heard growls and swearing coming from the alley. Unable to ignore the ruckus he snuck through the tenebrousness, the closer he came the more convinced he felt that he recognized the hoarse voice, behind a large dump of trash he could see a brown tail-tip stick out. "Luca?" he uttered softly to the wind.

"Huh? Who's there!?" A flabbergasted raccoon stuck out his head in the open, holding a hammer above his head in a sweaty grip.

"It's Zach, I'm coming out so don't do anything idiotic." The dog's cloak fell down from his face as he revealed himself. The ever hasty raccoon lowered his guard with relief. In all his work for the Empire, Luca had been the one and only thing close to a friend the husky had, constantly supporting him for the Gods knew what reason. Zachariah was about to ask what had brought Luca there, but the reason was clear as day, the only thing anyone would ever consider stealing in this city was the nightmare-drug. The husky did not wish to bring his friend to the station for these actions, for his faith in justice had disappeared a long time ago, and he was also in desperate need. With a nod and few words he allowed Luca to resume.

"If we don't hurry they'll take it from us, they'll take everything." The raccoon stuttered in the tone of a possessed manic, his addiction was a great one, perhaps greater than Zachariah's? The canine could not tell anymore. With a sigh he observed the raccoon's back as he worked on the lock-mechanism to the sturdy backdoor.

Minutes passed by, perhaps half an hour, yet no progress was made. "Idiot", he mumbled to himself, not letting Luca hear him. His tired eyes turned their gaze to the sky. In a moment of clearness Zachariah formed his thoughts and managed to put them into words. "Day in and day out we work here. Work and work until we draw our last breath. Then criminals from foreign countries get shipped in each month to replace us." The raccoon nodded along to his words, staring at the lock with a look that could sting a bee had it been any angrier. "With brainfog we might feel like kings for just a few seconds, but that doesn't change that we're living like slaves",he continued as he placed a hand on Luca's shoulder, yearning for contact with someone that was willing to listen, "this place is hell Luca, people that stay here will die, I will... there has to be a better place, somewhere the Empire can't find us."

"Like Hedona? That old fairy tale?" Luca injected sarcasm and frustration into the conversation, the lock was driving him insane.

"What is that?"

"They say it is a forgotten city, a place where everyone is welcome no matter what. An endless supply of the greatest food, drinks, pleasures, that sort of thing. Some call it Nirvana given flesh."

Zachariah did not know why his friend's words had struck him the way they did. He imagined the forgotten city, felt the warm sun on his face, the taste of juicy fruits spread on his tongue, the smell of vanilla and newly baked bread filled his nose. And most important of all, people lived there, free from the chains of others. For just this moment it seemed so real he could touch it, he wanted so desperately for it to be real.

"Yes, Hedona. That's where I want to go." He chuckled, yet he knew he could do it, even if it was just a fairy tale, occupying his thoughts with that dream, occupying his thoughts with anything that could distract him from the craving could serve as a way out of this evil circle.

Luca shook his head like a madman. "N-no! No! If we don't hurry and get the potion, they will take everything from me, all that I see, I can feel it happening!"

The husky held his breath, filling up with sadness as he watched the raccoon's eyes start to melt into pools of white puss. He had seen it happen before, some people who couldn't handle the drug imagined themselves being destroyed in the most horrific of ways, without his fix, Luca would be eternally blinded. The destruction did however not stop there, it began to spread to the raccoon's nimble arms and down his chest.

In a furious panic the morning-burglar hurled himself into the door, breaking it open. "Where is it? Where is it?!" Crawling like a caterpillar over the store's floorboards, Luca looked for the brainfog, unable to find it.

Zachariah stepped inside, he saw crates filled with the white liquid behind the counter, he looked over the endless supply of bottles just sitting there for him, then he looked back to the helpless man on the floor. He knew what had to be done. Without the drug Luca's body would perish, he could no longer return to normal without meeting his death. It was far too late to save him. "I found it Luca. Over here."

The shambling mess of broken flesh and bone gasped, a twisted smile formed on its deformed face, tears of joy streaming down like hot candlewax. "Hah! I-I knew we could do it, let me have some Zach! Quickly, before it's all taken away."

The husky went down on his knees beside his old friend, his eyes watering. "No one is taking anything from you. I have it... right here... for you." He placed one hand on his fellow addict's neck and helped him face the right direction.

"Yes! Yes! Oh thank you! I'm so happy I could cry."

"You already are... idiot." They both laughed, relieved for completely different reasons. The husky swore quietly to himself to remember his friend, caressing the still solid chin and cheek as he imprinted the image of the husk his friend had become.

The silence pierced them both in a moment of cold emptiness. "Zach?"A loud crack from a snapping neck, the mortifying sound of bones being broken became the last sound Luca ever made.

Zachariah stepped swiftly away from the store. His grey ears heard the sound of window-panes shattering and burning wood behind him. The oil-lanterns he had lit on fire were doing their job as well as expected. With their supply of brainfog in flames, the addicts who could no longer be saved would without a doubt turn up dead soon. He prayed that serving the city this mercy killing would finally make the citizens wake up and resist the imperials.

Inside his cloak he carried the last few remaining bottles that he had stolen, he would save them for himself, to aid him in escaping Kabusalla. With his high rank and the power to summon his dreams as weapons, Zachariah was certain he could easily flee. Right now he feared everyone, feared himself for what he had done. He had to stick to his plan, he would need to slowly lessen his use of the drug on his own, he did not know if he could do it, not even the sight of Luca's fate could make him confident in his resolve. Salty tears ran down his trembling cheeks at a constant flow, he forced himself to think about something else. Hedona! He would replace this addiction with another, to find this paradise, even if it meant the death of him.