2023 disclaimer:
This excerpt has been written in October 2018 and is presented here as is. I have not abandoned this novel, it means perhaps even more to me now than it did back then — but the plot needs to be completely restructured for it to be readable, so for now I amassing experience while working on other things and keeping this story in the back of my head.
At the periphery of senses
by EmeraldSwirl
1. Hearing
When I first met Devin Fredericks, I thought: we just might become friends!
When he showed me his kindness, I felt the happiest I'd been or would be for ages.
When our friendship turned one year, he suddenly, ruthlessly, without any reason, destroyed my heart.
Everything was the same, until one day it wasn't.
In the middle of February, night came early and eagerly claimed its reign, freezing the air and the ground even deeper than they were during the day. Snowfall formed a thick, almost solid veil illuminated by dying orange street lights, completely engulfing the town, as if wanting to bury it by the end of the night and cleanse the land.
Through one of the streets a lone figure went, cloaked in a thick coat, shoulders and head covered in a snow cap — everything about her was indiscernible. Cars were speeding by the figure, drivers wanting to get home as soon as they could, but the pedestrian couldn't achieve their maximum speed, their legs tangled in ankle high mass of snow. This street was the final stretch in her path, yet no end was in sight for what felt like an hour.
Then electric light finally pierced through the snowfall. The figure hurried upon seeing it and soon could make out the screen on the side of a tall building. From the billboard a mother kangaroo looked at the passerby with despair in her eyes, hands in front of her, as if stained by something invisible. "ABORTION IS MURDER'', screamed blood red letters flashing on the screen, "NURTURE THE LIFE INSIDE YOU''.
The billboard was on the wall of a medical clinic, shining teal with stripe lights across every floor. Across the street from it residential buildings stood, on one of them a cross-shaped green sign. It was there where the snow-covered figure hurried.
The obligatory doorbell rang, and for a second the quiet pharmacy was filled with the sound of raging wind. Then the door closed, and the figure immediately felt the incredible warmth, while anyone else would say the room was a little cold.
— Hey, you made it! — from behind the counter a teenage boy's voice echoed. — And there I was afraid you wouldn't show up.
— You knew damn well I would, — muttered the figure, shaking off the snow. — We both get paid here, you know.
The door between shelves with stacks of medicine boxes opened, and the teenager left in charge let the cloaked figure in. He was a lion, the fur covering his face and hands pale pink, his mane long and a darker hue, dressed in his usual green shirt and a vest. He was the son of the family who owned this pharmacy and worked there part-time. A pretty responsible guy, the figure thought looking at him, but prone to daydreaming and sometimes inattentive. Still, seeing him run quickly to the back room and hearing the electric kettle heat up reminded her he only meant well. Devin was his name. He was alright, she guessed.
The young lion returned right away and took the coat when the newcomer took it off, also pretty young, just not a high schooler anymore and not even a college student. Freed from the coat was a young adult hedgehog, quills on her head all messy, each one pointing in a different direction. Below her coat was a pitch black sweatshirt, almost as dark as the circles under her eyes, clearly visible even under the brown fur. A pretty sharp-tongued young lady she was, but a good worker who knew her craft and an interesting conversation partner once you learned to endure her snide remarks. Megan was her name. She was pretty tolerable, the lion thought.
— Really going down outside, huh? — Devin mumbled, handing the hedgehog her slippers.
— You know the irony? — Megan squeaked angrily. — The weather's going to get clear the next hour, it's like all this snowfall is just for me! And then at eight in the morning, just as I'm leaving...
— Snow again? — Devin lowered his eyes.
— You guessed it!
— Well... — the lion spread his hands, — at least you won't die.
— You don't know that!
— How am I supposed to console you then?..
For a couple minutes the two just did each their own. The lion put his signature in the journal on the counter and then left to the back room and returned with a mug of coffee for the hedgehog. Megan fell into a chair, putting her legs on a different one, and just sighed loudly, recovering from snow-induced psychological trauma by scrolling through her phone. It was less than eight PM, yet she could reasonably expect close to no customers for the next half an hour, until the snowfall ends.
— Hey, what about that book I gave you like a month ago? — Megan asked suddenly.
— What about it?.. — Devin froze where he stood, looking away.
— You read it, right?
— Well... — the lion scratched his nose. — You want it back now? I can bring it here...
— No, I want you to read it, — Megan tilted her head just so the teenager could see judgement in her eyes. — Is it so hard?
— Not at all...
— Hey, Devin, — the hedgehog said after a long pause. — What's going on between your parents?
— Wha... why'd you want to know?! — the lion snapped defensively.
— Well, I kind of am their employee so it would concern me if they would make a... — Megan looked at Devin again and immediately stuttered, — I mean... some kind of decision, I think?.. — the emotion so clear in Devin's eyes made her lose her confidence. Why is he afraid?!
— It's nothing, — he spoke, his face suddenly completely calm. — Things are alright, and even if they weren't... if... your job wouldn't be in danger. Don't worry.
— Well, I'm also concerned for... — Megan tried to push on but noticed Devin's tail wagging in anger, — ...nobody. Okay, I won't worry.
— Thank you, — Devin looked away. After a minute he got up and went to the door to the back room.
— What you gonna do? — Megan waved, demanding his attention.
— Read your book, — Devin replied unenthusiastically. — Good luck down here.
The door closed behind the young lion. Just before his eyes was a flight of stairs going upwards — an insurmountable mountain. Devin didn't really want to go up, but what alternative did he have? Return to Megan? Hide in the storage room? Why can't he just go up these stairs, like it's hard?
— Devin.
The lion flinched. Up the stairs, a silhouette lit from the back, stood his father, a stern-looking tiger.
— Thinking about something?
— Not really, — Devin shook his head.
— Is Megan in the pharmacy already?
— Of course, why else I would be here?
— Good, good, — Devin's father went down the stairs, eyes on a clipboard in his hand. — I have something to discuss with her. Why are you standing here, by the way?..
— Oh, just... thinking!
In a second Devin scaled the flight of stairs. Above the pharmacy was the apartment where he and his parents lived. The stairs ended in a small main corridor, lit by a single yellow lamp. As the lion walked towards his room, a weak voice called upon him from behind one of the doors.
— Devin, is that you? Can you come here for a second?
Shuddering, Devin stepped into the dimly lit living room. On the couch his mother lied, a lioness with a rather difficult demeanor — on her head a moist towel.
— Finished your shift okay? Devin, honey, please turn off the radio in the kitchen, it makes me hurt...
— Of course, mom. Did you take your medicine? — Devin asked quietly, looking at his feet.
— Yes, yes, don't worry. The snowfall is ending soon, I'll be fine. You can have dinner by yourself, can you?
— Of course, I'll clean everything up and turn everything off...
— And your homework for tomorrow... you did everything, right?
— ...right, — Devin's voice wavered, as much as he tried to hide it.
— Remember, son, you have an important role and you must act accordingly, — the lioness sighed. — Perfection is always expected, so you have to try better than that... Well, go on, these news anchors are killing me...
— Yes, mom... I'll... check up on you, — Devin awkwardly patted his mother on the shoulder and left the room silently.
The lights in the kitchen were off, yet the radio was blaring at full power. Turning it off, Devin wondered if his father left it on on purpose. On the table his mother left a plate for him, covered with another plate. Such care... But what Devin did was shove it in the fridge.
Exiting the kitchen, he looked around like a thief. Creeping through the corridor, Devin silently opened one of the doors and slipped into a room that didn't really have a dedicated use now.
It was a bedroom once, but it was a long time ago. Then his father tried to make it a study room, but something resisted him there. His mother slept there sometimes... and when his parents weren't trying to claim it, Devin would sometimes come here. The room was lined with pink wallpapers — just so it would be clear it belonged to a girl.
In the room with pink wallpapers Devin collapsed on the cold bed, right on top of the sheets.
Everything was the same. Until one day it wasn't.
Not really aware of his body, Devin stood in the middle of the street. It seemed to be his hometown, yet all the buildings here were from different places, arranged in two straight rows in a way that suggested some logic Devin was unable to grasp. No snow was in sight, yet the street was freezing cold. Also missing were any signs of vegetation, not even a small blade of grass in the asphalt. The street seemed to continue forever; Devin was on a high point, from there it only went downhill in two directions.
Something was up with the way everything was lit. It was as if light and darkness didn't exist at all here, everything was dim but lit evenly, nothing cast any shadow. As Devin raised his head he didn't feel, his eyes did not meet the sky... Dark, empty void of a single colour impossible to describe was looming above, with no variation in visible coloration, completely lifeless. Unable to look away, Devin froze, staring into the endless abyss.
Then he heard something — a very faint clanking, yet it was the only sound on this otherworldly street. Breaking eye contact with emptiness, Devin looked downhill from where he stood. In the distance something was moving, a black spot too small to make out. Unable to move, Devin felt his heartbeat for the first time since turning up in this endless street. And it was getting faster.
The movement of the small shape approaching him was slow and steady, though. As it was getting closer and closer, Devin just stood, completely frozen, not even blinking. He wasn't sure how much time passed before he could make out the details — yet when he saw what was coming at him, he forgot about time.
A mechanical nightmare was moving straight for him. On four spider legs, each twice as long as he was tall, it walked silently — a bulky, imposing machine with contracted arms, each ending in a long, sharp blade, twitching slightly as if eager to extend in a swift deadly motion.
Devin shivered, his heartbeat getting dangerously fast. Steadily the machine was moving towards him, not seeming to notice him in its way — but what will happen when it reaches him?
Then all Devin's eyes saw was the white ceiling.
He was in the room with pink wallpaper again, clothes soaked in cold sweat, limbs spread on the bed. His heart was beating so fast it hurt. A glance on the watch revealed it was five in the morning... yet Devin wasn't rested at all.
It was hard, but he regained control of his body and stood up. Slightly fearing what he could see, Devin opened the curtain. No, the nightmare appeared to be over. Behind the window shone the dying orange street lights, and though the sky was hidden by a layer of clouds, it definitely was there. For a minute Devin just stood, mesmerized by slow and small snowflakes. Then his eyes registered some swift motion. A dark silhouette leaped from somewhere outside of Devin's vision and landed right in the middle of the street. Devin flinched and blinked, and then the silhouette was gone. Shaking his head, he jumped away from the window.
The pink room was alien and menacing, with incoherent, wandering shadows on the walls. Devin hurried to the door, through the now dark corridor and to his own room. Only turning on the lights calmed him down a little.
Devin's own room had light blue wallpaper, just so it would be clear it was a boy's room. He had a lot of expensive electronics, and the room was well furnished — yet a lingering mess made it clear that something was out of control here. From his pocket in a familiar gesture Devin took out his phone — an unfailing source of comfort, a gateway to the world of his many social connections. Two new messages. Great. Someone needs him, and now he's ready to help...
Both notifications were from group chats.
Devin's body was still shaking, maybe even more now. Why?! What was even wrong? Nobody needed him during the night, what's so bad in that? He scrolled down and came across a chat that he wished never happened. Amalie Weinbach. His girlfriend. Well, nominally.
Amalie: I understand, but I really need time for myself. How many times should I repeat this.
Amalie: If you don't get this much, there really is no reason for us to talk anymore.
Devin couldn't really explain why he would open this last conversation, yet in a blink of an eye he was reading it again. He said he got everything then, yet he still didn't understand. Why would the girl who said she was in a relationship with him suddenly get so cold? Why would she need so much alone time that they haven't spoken in a week? Was it something he did? Was it something he was??
The machine stood before Devin's eyes, cold and lifeless, yet so ready to take life. He typed a message, almost instinctively.
Devin: Amalie, I just had a nightmare, I'm so scared... Please, I just want to talk. Don't leave me alone...
And just like that... sent. So foolish. So weak. So unlike him. Devin looked up, across the room from him was a mirror. And that's him, this is the Devin Fredericks everyone respects?!
When did things go so wrong?!
Devin slammed his phone against the bed so hard it bounced off to the floor. Doesn't matter, it's not the right one, not his really. Grabbing a pillow, Devin held it tightly to his chest, quivering but not crying. What exactly was the reason for his breakdown he didn't know. Maybe he was far past the point when he needed a reason.
And then before he could understand anything his watch beeped. Six thirty. Time to get up for another day of pretending to be normal.
Coming next:
Before school * Devin's two friends * A stolen sketchbook * Call from the past * Finding the enemy
