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Project 30, Chapter 5 |
| Written by Project 30 | |
| Wednesday, 06 August 2008 | |
Chapter 5 - Alex Hodson (Hodders)
One more drink my friend...just one more...go on...I dare you...'
The little voice in his head was getting worse. The alcoholic inside him was screaming for more booze. He could satisfy that voice and end the pain. He was dangling the bottle in his right hand as he stumbled down the pavement.
Alex Hodson sniffed. He was pissed off with the world for letting him get into this state. He was even more pissed off about the invitation to some stupid writers party that he'd received the other day. Somehow he supposed it was quite funny. He knew he must look like a raving idiot.
He tried to walk in a straight line along the curb. He failed miserably and almost smashed his bottle when he tripped and fell over. What disgusted him even more was that he could smell himself. A reek of *** smoke and stale alcohol emanated from his clothes and his open mouth. His unshaven face was bristly and dark shadows hung under his eyes as if he hadn't gotten any sleep for the past week.
The street was dark, yet he could still make out the blurry shapes of some people. They leered at him from the shadows like angry ghosts. They were evil incarnations that haunted the dark places.
His thoughts slowly drifted to that man who called himself the ‘Admin'. He was the one who had invited them to the party in Washington. Perhaps he was a lonely guy who lived in a huge mansion who just wanted some willing bags of meat to arrive and admire his rich collection of antiques or something.
‘...could be compensating for something,' said Alex jokingly. He began to laugh at himself.
There was definitely something strange about the party though. No one was really saying anything but he had heard whispers...only whispers...of something labelled ‘Project 30'. Alex had had no idea what it might be but he decided he'd like to be a part of it. After all, there might be big money in it or even better, a neat little publishing contract to end his sad little writing attempts and catapult him into the world of professional writers.
Alex checked his watch and waited for his vision to focus on the dial. It was 9:00 PM. He took a swig from his bottle before dropping it onto the pavement where it smashed, showering the ground in sparkles of diamonds. They tinkled in the gutter and shone in the moonlight.
Alex barely had time to notice it. He was already stumbling further up the street, trying to steady himself on the cars parked by the side of the road.
As he turned the corner the mansion loomed out of the darkness like a hunched beast. Its eyes were on him and it was breathing. He stared at the beautiful white marble house with awe. It dazzled his eyes with perfection. There wasn't a single blemish on its surface, no dirt marks, no graffiti, not even the usual sign of hooded youths hanging around the place. It was as if the building commanded a certain amount of respect, people subconsciously seemed to know it was a place that demanded good behaviour. Places like that made Alex sick. He preferred a loud, dirty night club any day.
The gates stood open and towered upwards. The mouth of the beast. The painted bars of the gate made them look strangely like teeth.
He ambled through them and began to walk up the gravel road towards the entrance of the house. He could hear talking inside. The lights were on in every room, shining out into the night, beacons for anyone who wanted free booze.
As the manor house grew larger Alex felt strangely out of place. He himself lived in a single bedroom apartment that overlooked a dingy alleyway. This lifestyle was extraordinary, the life of a famous author it would seem. Or at least someone who knows how to put his talents to good, profitable use.
The steps were next in a growing list of dangerous obstacles. He took them one at a time, determined not to trip up or do anything to make himself look idiotic.
As he put his foot on the top step he heard hushed voices. They were coming from somewhere in the garden. He looked behind him but couldn't see anyone. The gravel road that led back towards the gates was empty and lonely in the night. He looked to his left and couldn't see anyone over there. Then he moved to the right and spotted two blurry people behind some bushes. He was surprised to see they were fully clothed.
Smiling at himself slightly he turned around to face the house. It was then that he caught some words of their conversation on the breeze.
‘...it's clean...deadly you see...'
He hadn't the foggiest idea what they were talking about.
‘Probably dirty talk,' he said to himself as a voice greeted him.
‘Hello, I suppose you Mr Hodson are you?' said the voice. Alex swayed on the spot for a second before narrowing his eyes. Suddenly things began to come into focus and he saw the face of someone, he was holding out his hand in welcome. Alex shook it clumsily.
‘Yes...yes that's me...I think...' he said.
‘Pleased to meet you. I'm the Admin. I was the one who sent the invitation.'
‘Oh yes...' said Alex. After a moments hesitation he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his trouser pocket and showed it to the Admin. He seemed very wary of touching it for fear of where it had been.
‘Well...yes...that seems in order, you'd better keep it I think...'
‘Oh...thanks very much...' said Alex as he screwed it up and threw it to the floor.
‘Well...err...we're glad to have you here, I hope you enjoy the party and the banquet later, it's a free bar, although I daresay you've had enough already.' Alex smiled wryly at the Admin. He then pushed past him into the manor house. One thing was for sure, he hadn't had enough. *
Inside the manor gleamed with cleanliness. Alex wondered vaguely how many cleaners it would take to clean the house from top to bottom until his mind drifted onto other things.
He noticed more blurry, distant figures moving, drinking and chatting to each other. All of them seemed to be slightly more professional. He noticed how people kept sipping their drinks politely compared to his own large gulps of the stuff.
After a couple more beers he began to feel slightly sick. The hot liquid was rising in his front. He could feel it steaming, bubbling, brewing. The sober man inside him wanted to spit it out. It wanted to get rid of the taint of the alcohol. Yet the alcoholic inside was screaming to keep it down, to carry the evil liquid and drink some more.
The sober man seemed to be winning. Quickly, he ran towards the bathroom. He burst through a large white door to find himself in a sparkling tiled room. Everything was spotless without a single grimy mark. It would be a shame to ruin it.
He began to heave over the sink. At first it only dribbled out and fizzed in the bowl. Then it came out in a tidal wave. It was vile green in colour and reeked of something Alex couldn't bare to smell. He continued for a few seconds until it began to slow down and stop.
He spat the last of the foul-tasting stuff into the bowl and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He quickly washed the contents of his stomach away by turning on the tap. He was breathing heavily. The water was swirling before his eyes and it revealed to him his own inner madness.
‘You want to do it again don't you...you want to try it...you want to see what it tastes like. That feeling of letting go must be contagious. Perhaps you're not strong enough to resists that compelling urge...perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...'
That little voice in his head was stopped by something. There was something sitting innocently on the edge of the sink. It was a bottle of some sort and it was open. Some of the pills had been dropped onto the floor and trodden on. White dust that shimmered strangely. The bottle itself was empty and over half of the contents couldn't be seen anywhere in the bathroom.
Alex picked up the bottle and raised it to his eyes. The words written on it were blurry. Perhaps it was someone's prescribed medication that they'd simply forgotten about. Alex didn't really care anymore. He dropped the bottle and left the bathroom. He was ready to drink some more. *
There were thirty-one seats altogether. Yet not all of them had been filled. Some remained ominously empty and echoed something sinister about the meaning of ‘Project 30' and its intentions.
Alex was slumped on a chair with a glass of red wine in his hand. He felt sleepy but was managing to keep his eyes open. On one side of him was an empty seat and on the other side sat someone he didn't recognise. Whoever it was, they were extremely blurry in his drunkenness.
‘So how did you join StoriesVille?' said the anonymous person, it sounded like a woman. Her voice seemed oddly chirpy.
‘Err...well I accidentally clicked on it to tell you the truth...' said Alex and he closed his eyes finally. The woman didn't speak to him again, perhaps she suddenly realised how shabby Alex looked or how drunk he was. Nevertheless Alex was relieved he didn't have to speak anymore.
The room filled up quickly and the Admin began talking about something. Alex barely heard him but he caught random snippets of information.
‘here's your gifts...you may open them...end of Project 30...'
Alex felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and turned around to see the butler. He was wearing a half-assed smile and was pretending to be civil.
‘Your gift sir. You may open it now.'
The butler held out a small box on a silver tray and Alex took it without question. He was filled with so much curiosity that he forgot about everyone else around him and began to tear the box open.
Into his lap fell a pack of cards. Alex picked them up and held them close to his eyes. He noticed that it was a deck of tarot cards. The deck looked rather old. The edges of some of the cards had shriveled and browned in the fading of years. The figure depicted on the front could be seen quite clearly. It was ‘The Fool'.
‘Probably for gambling purposes,' he joked and laughed at himself. The woman sitting next to him gave him a rather ugly frown.
The Admin was getting to his feet and raising his glass. He seemed unusually cheery, perhaps he had drunk too much. He downed the red liquid and swayed on the spot for a second. His face seemed to turn a ghostly pale in an instant. His eyes became foggy and lost all of their emotion. His next few words seemed slightly ironic.
‘What the hell...' he gasped before collapsing onto the floor.
Everyone stood up in an instant. They were all clambering around trying to get a look at fainted man's body. Alex noticed that someone had bent down over the body and was checking the Admin's pulse. He himself continued to sip his wine, unsure what all of the fuss was about and feeling ready to go home.
Alex caught the words of someone saying: ‘...he's dead...'
‘I bet the butler did it...' he chuckled before collapsing onto the table. The booze had finally taken its toll and he was finally fast asleep. Copyright 2008 Project 30 |
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| Last Updated ( Friday, 08 August 2008 ) |
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