Welcome! It’s time to dive into part two of our ongoing “Levee” series—an exploration of how drugs can decay the barrier between what’s real and what isn’t. The water may be a little cold. So if you need to warm up first, check out the link below.
Seattle is mostly surrounded by water, squeezed between Puget Sound on one side and Lake Washington on the other. A series of snaking canals—what essentially amounts to one large river—connect these two bodies of water. Taken together, they pinch the city like a giant thumb and forefinger, threatening to snap it free from the rest of the state.
Just north of this “snap-zone” is the University District. It butts right up against the undulating river, providing a gracious view of downtown. To get from one side to the other, a series of bridges stitch the landscape together. Perhaps, the most important of these is the Ship Canal Bridge.
This steel artery lofts over the water and is responsible for carrying the constant traffic of I-5. A criss-cross pattern of angled beams secure the two levels of road together, forming a double-decked highway. At night, the constant hum of engines and glow of headlights carry through the inky sky into the open windows of dorm rooms and apartment buildings across the way.
I must have nodded off.
The apartment was dark, but traffic lights blinked through the room in consistent spurts. It still wasn’t enough to see clearly. I tried blinking the crust from my eyes, but everything remained as shadow. No details. Was last night a dream? I studied the patterns of light ricocheting off the walls. All they illuminated were flecks of dust. No gold specks. No gold entities.
I had to pee. Liquid frothed in my bladder, churning for a way out. From across the room, Mike let out a whispered snore. His dark mass, sprawled along the floor, grew and shrank between nasaled breaths. At least he was breathing, I thought. I groaned and pushed myself off the couch.
The flickering panes of light were dizzying. I swayed down the hallway, towards the bathroom, as they scanned the length of the apartment—briefly illuminating the dark corners before disappearing again. At the end of the hall, my own shadow slowly strobed against the bathroom door. I stopped. The swirling interplay between dark and light captured my attention. It pulled me in. Instead of opening the door, I grasped the frame with each hand and pressed my forehead to the wood.
The material melted into a new perspective. It gave way beneath the blinking shadows to reveal something more. Here, in the entrance to my bathroom, I saw beyond the trappings of space and time. Bright and black, the doorframe became a different kind of threshold—a peek behind the veil.
They’ve already come.
The voice in my head wasn’t my own. It had arrived from this other side and wormed into my consciousness. A form of communication. Another flicker of light and the scene in the doorway shifted. Shadows elongated. Through wiry transmutation, they told a story. The entire universe presented itself to me, and its history shuffled through my vision like a kaleidoscope. I wrinkled my forehead against the doorway to watch closer. Presented was the formation of stars, the invention of gunpowder, the annihilation of solar systems, the birth of an ocean. The voice spoke through me, guiding me through the transcendent display. It filled me with the entire litany of cosmic secrets before finishing with a warning.
The Harvest is here.
The scene vanished from the doorway like a tube TV. My head stung. Too much information at once. I stood back and pressed my hand to the wall to feel something solid. This voice—this cosmic guardian—had pulled the wool from my eyes and the blinding light was white-hot. Last night was not a dream. I wasn’t crazy. Whatever was going on was real. It even had a name.
It didn’t matter that I still had to pee, I retreated back down the hall. There was no time left to prepare. Mike tossed in his sleep as I stepped over him, unaware of the looming existential threat that was upon us. It was too late to warn him. And Jerry…he had already been taken.
I dug between the couch cushions. There had to be some dope left. Even the smallest piece would do. But all that came free were old crumbs of bread, which disintegrated in my fingers. There was nothing else. I stepped back over Mike to get to my bedroom, clicking on the lamp as I continued my search. Desk drawers, discarded tinfoil. No luck. The light cast jagged shadows across the carpet as I ran my fingers through. It was no use.
In defeat, I crawled the rest of the way into my closet. The cosmic-voice was gone, but it had conferred to me all I needed to know. This was going to hurt.
The lamp sputtered out loud as it flickered. Curled up in the back of the closet, I held my hand to my mouth and let my jaw hang loose. Was that a beam of light? Was I already taken? My jeans cut off the circulation to my lower legs, but I held them tight to my chest regardless. The lamp blinked again, and a sheen of red smoke grew from the bulb within, tainting the air itself.
My lower stomach cramped. It pressed against the base of my hips with determined effort. I had to clench my hands into fists to try and keep from shaking. Red mist continued to extend into the room. Deep and neon, it bled into the cracks of the ceiling and dripped into the closet.
You’ve lost everything.
This was a different voice. Not cosmic. It was a cold, mechanical announcement that took me away from the world. The fog dripped from above in heaves. It spattered my clothing and skin, soaking deeper inwards until it consumed me. My stomach pierced in sudden pain and my vision shifted. Around me, reality receded once again. It shed its dead skin until I could see beyond it. Within this hidden plane of existence, the golden entity had returned. We were face to face.
I gasped. Its dense constellation of a body enveloped me, holding me suspended in the ether. I reached for the truth of my carpet floor but it wasn’t there. I couldn’t find it. Pain shot through my gut, arresting my attention. I peered down. Gored into the base of my stomach was a long, fleshy needle.
Sweat pricked through the pores in my skull. The needle extended from inside me to the golden entity—a parasitic appendage. It pumped the warmth from me, rattling my insides as it did. My head slouched backwards. I couldn’t hold it up any longer. Whatever joy I still held, hidden within the twisted alleys of my soul, was siphoned away. My own skin sucked up against my skeletal frame. It was too much to fight. I closed my eyes tight, but red still trickled through.
You’ve lost everyone.
My body disappeared beneath the scarlet glow that had flooded my room. It wasn’t the only one. Across the entire University District buildings radiated various shades of red—dorm rooms, hotels, apartments, libraries. Against the night sky, it culminated into a giant, living haze, extending itself down into the quiet streets.
As it grew, the fog eventually reached the river, spilling down the surrounding hills and into the water. From there, it wrapped itself around the dozens of steel pillars that held their bridges in place. The shorter ones were overtaken first. The fog swept upwards over the sides. Cars swerved between lanes trying to stop, and headlights disappeared. The hum of engines ceased. By the time it reached the top of the Ship Canal Bridge, there was nowhere left for anyone to go.
The city was surrounded. The haze had polluted the entirety of Lake Washington and was currently spreading from Puget Sound into the open ocean beyond. It swept around Seattle like the eye of a hurricane, cycling tighter and tighter. The billowing gloom pulsed with energy—explosions of bright red within its unknowable storm. As the eye closed shut, they meyhem peaked. The center intensified into an unyielding climax and silenced everything within.
To be continued…