V

 

 

He goes by the name John Smith, and he specializes in putting people under. It’s a broad concept—whatever under means to the individual is what they are capable of experiencing in this safe, but drug-induced state.

He is waiting outside of the elevator doors when Asuka and Merrick reach the fourth floor. He gives them both a wide smile. With a finger to his lips, John motions for them to follow in silence.

The hall burns bright with the orange glow of too many incandescent bulbs. There are gurneys wherever they’ll fit—men and women from all walks of life, fast asleep. Others lie limp in chairs, some simply curled into balls on the hardwood floor. They all are desperate for the simple dreams, happy dreams, profound dreams they used to have. It is not nirvana they wish to experience, but the contentment robbed from them five years ago. John Smith promises a moment of peace from the nightmares, a night they can sleep and not fear becoming infected before awaking.

It makes Asuka sick to see what his fellow city dwellers are willing to reduce themselves to. Motionless heaps sprawled on the floor, high on a dangerous chemical dream of wild flowers, rainbows, and their childhood puppy who is still living in that space between long-term memory and abstractness.

This is no longer a fight merely for his soul.

And it’s not a fight for Asuka’s right to dream and hope and wish again.

It’s a battle.

A battle for the unconsciousness of every human being who has survived and persevered through the relentless horror and monstrosities. It’s a battle to turn the lights off at night and not fear the nightmares. And it’s for Merrick. So he never finds himself on the raw end of a deal.

John steps over a man crumpled in front of a door, opens it, and ushers them inside. The room is crammed with shelves from floor to ceiling. There are hundreds of glass bottles, from pill-size containers to gallon jugs. Labels are taped on the front, and a note is written in sloppy cursive as to its contents.

“So what is it you wish to dream of?” John asks once Asuka has shut the door behind them.

“This isn’t a typical under,” Merrick warns.

John grins and shrugs. “What’s typical?”

“I need to visit the Underworld,” Asuka states.

John doesn’t appear shocked by the request. Thoughtful, perhaps. “That’s quite the journey.”

“Money isn’t a problem,” Asuka replies.

“I require half up front.”

“So it’s possible?” Merrick interrupts. “To send Asuka not to a dream version, but the actual place?”

“Sure it is,” John replies heartily before his expression turns somber. “For ten thousand dollars.”

“John!” Merrick proclaims.

John puts a finger to his lips again. “Shh….” He shifts his gaze to the door to make his point. “They pay a lot to sleep here.”

“It’s fine,” Asuka says. He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and tosses the entire thing at John. “Pin number is six, six, five, two.”

John examines the contents as he sits himself down in front of a computer at the end of the room. He’s quiet as he types, then eventually spins around in the chair. “Checking or savings?”

“You can have both if this works,” Asuka states.

John smiles again. He’s on his feet, poking about the shelves of ingredients. “You’ll need forget-me-nots,” he says, pulling down a small jar from overhead. “And river water. Merrick, second from the bottom, if you please.”

Merrick stoops and carefully pulls a big jug from the low shelf. He walks across the room and sets it on a worktable.

Asuka takes a step out of the way and backs himself up to the wall.

“Lamb’s blood,” John continues, grabbing a mason jar of a foul-looking liquid. He hands off the contents to Merrick, who places it beside the river water. “Who do you intend to visit in the Underworld?”

Asuka squares his shoulders. “Phobetor.”

John shoots Merrick a quizzical look.

“Oneiroi,” Merrick replies. “He’s one of the Dream Brothers.”

“Huh.” John looks at Asuka once more, but he doesn’t question his motives. “Then you’ll need poppies.” John grabs another jar and passes it to Merrick.

“A black feather will help,” Merrick says as he sets the poppies on the table.

John turns around. “I’ve just the thing.” He goes to the opposite wall. “And this will be a double dose?”

“No,” Asuka says quickly. “I’m going alone.”

John has a hand resting on a large jug. He looks from Asuka to Merrick and back again. “The journey through the Underworld is no easy task. A hero hasn’t made the voyage in a long time. You’ll go without aid? Merrick is extremely well versed in the tales.”

Asuka feels uncomfortable. How much did Merrick open himself up to a chaotic-neutral man such as John in the past?

But it’s not his place to judge.

After all, Asuka sold his soul.

He may have been lawful once.

But that was a long time ago.

Asuka takes in a breath through his nose and gradually releases it. “The Underworld is closed off to men who still have souls. Mine’s already down there.”

John shrugs and again seems unfazed. “Very well.” He lifts the jug and walks it to the worktable. He takes a seat, pulls on a pair of goggles and gloves, and measures, snips, and mixes the ingredients. “You won’t be able to simply lie down and fall asleep,” he says over his work. “After all, it isn’t your intention to dream of the Underworld.”

“What do I need to do?” Asuka asks.

“Inject this.” John raises a beaker and swirls the concoction. “And then take the plunge.”

Asuka narrows his eyes.

“Jump into a river,” Merrick clarifies. “I think it’ll work as a crossover to the River Styx.”

“Grab some coins, Merrick,” John says. “On the shelf in front of you— eye level.”

Merrick goes to the jars and scans a few labels before picking one. Heavy coins clink against the glass as he shakes two free. He offers them to Asuka. “Payment to be ferried across.”

Asuka pockets the coins. “Where will I find Phobetor?”

“In a field of poppies will be a cave. Inside the cave will be a gateway. Nightmares used to pass through the gate made of ivory—for false dreams that cannot hurt us.” Merrick frowns. “But I’m certain that they’re now passing through the gate of horn—true dreams. Whatever you plan to do, Phobetor must not be allowed to dream through the gate of horn. That’s only for his brothers, Morpheus and Phantasos.”

Asuka nods. “I understand. How do I return?”

Merrick bites his lip. “I’m not sure.”

“Heroes always find a way out of a pickle,” John says, not looking up from his work.

“I’m no hero,” Asuka answers.

Merrick slips his hands into Asuka’s. “You are,” he whispers. “You’ll stop Phobetor. You’ll regain your soul. I feel it in the marrow of my bones.”

Asuka smiles, just a little. He raises Merrick’s hand and kisses it. “I’ll come back to you.”

It isn’t hope.

It isn’t a dream.

It is truth.

Merrick returns the smile. “I know you will.”