Page 13 of Neon Pestilence
My mouth falls slack, that’s the second time he's done that, and fuck me, it’s so gods damned hot.
I would lick the sweat off this man, and I haven’t even seen his face yet. My morals are shifting, my body becoming fueled by his touch. I need this man more than any drug, and God help me, I’d beg for the poison he offers.
My eyes track him as he places the cane to the side, turning back to his table of instruments. He moves a couple of things around, the metal clinging softly until he turns to face me with a familiar bottle in his hand.
It’s more of that stuff he gave me last night. I can tell by the pinkish, almost iridescent look to it, like some kind of potion…or maybe it really is poison.
My mouth begins to water, pleading for the sweet candy-like taste to hit my lips. He closes the distance between us, placing the cold glass to my lips.
Open up, little raver.
I’m so used to his voice in my head now that it doesn’t even phase me. I open, flicking my tongue out flat like he’s about to check me for strep throat.
The moment the tincture touches my tongue, a charge of emotions floods through me. The world around me becomes more vibrant, soft, and glowy around the edges. Hard lines melt, and the anxiety that flooded my veins disappears.
I close my eyes, basking in the warmth the pink liquid gives me. Before long, my eyes grow heavy, and I can feel myself being lifted, cradled next to something warm and soft.
My eyes continue to flutter as I try to fight off the sleepiness. I want more time with The Doctor, but my body is screaming for sleep.
Before long, I hear the sound of a tent being unzipped, before I’m placed on something soft. The warmth leaves me, and I hear aziiipppppppponce more before my dreams take over. Rhythmic sounds from the stages pulse around me, lulling me to sleep like a dark lullaby.
Chapter 12
Indy
It’s only night three of the festival, and I feel like I’ve been here for a month. My body is exhausted, my limbs ache as I drag myself off the blow-up mattress.
Looking down, I notice I’m completely naked. My clothes from last night are folded neatly on my makeshift side table. Well, that was kind of sweet, in a creepy way.
I scramble to get dressed, opting for a lightweight sweats and a short-cropped hoodie that shows off my black square-neck sports bra underneath. It barely covers my boobs, and effortless yet comfy as fuck outfit that I can still look hot as sin in.
I’m met with my zipper not wanting to unzip, letting out an exasperated grunt, trying to be released from the nylon trap I'm in. After a few moments of silently cursing to myself and trying to move it every way, it finally slides open. Stepping outside, Itake a deep breath of forest air and slide on my other pair of crocs, the black studded ones, before walking over to my canopy.
Pulling out the press coffee maker, I throw in some espresso powder. I move silently, making the perfect dirty bean concoction. Once my coffee is done, I grab some homemade maple creamer out of my cooler and fill the rest of my tumbler before tightening the lid and plopping down in my chair.
I pop open my cigarette pack, pulling out a THC crystal-coated sativa joint. I wrap my pashmina around me and light up. After a few puffs, I notice how bright and happy everything looks. It’s like the world is alive and I’m seeing it for the first time.
Either this joint is fucking loaded with that high-potency shit, or it’s the leftover from whatever mystery pink juice I drank last night, but I shake the thoughts away. Avoidance is one of my top personalities after all.
“Ohhh my God! You’re here!” I hear a high-pitched scream as a tiny body slams into me. Wrapping its arms around me tightly. A frantic Tini looks at me, her eyes red-rimmed and wet.
“Tini, oh my Gods,” I huff out, trying to catch my breath after the momentary scare. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
She takes a deep breath, rising to her feet slowly. She seems visibly shaken up, like she saw something she wasn’t supposed to. My momma bear instincts immediately take over. Rising to my feet, I motion for her to sit in my chair, and I drop down in front of her. Placing my hands on her knees, I search her eyes.
“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay. What’s going on?” I question, trying to get some context on what the fuck is happening.
“Tommy is missing,” a gruff voice behind me says. The wook that was testing our drugs the other night is standing next to my canopy, a nic-vape between his lips as he takes a puff.
“Wait, what? He’s missing? What do you mean? What happened?” I counter, rising to my feet and turning to him.
“I honestly wish I knew,” he says, running his hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes dart around, full of anxiety. “The last time I saw him was around when you walked off the other night, after we all took that Euphorium.”
I glance at Tini, who’s sobbing into her palms; her whole body is shaking. Stepping closer to him, I lower my voice so she can’t hear my next question. “Do you think it was an overdose?”
“That’s the weird part, Tommy has been to Hallow Lands before. He told me he had taken that same pill at least four years in a row.” He fidgets with the edge of his pashmina, like he’s wondering if he should tell me more.
“I saw him,” I hear Tini say brokenly between sobs. “I fucking saw him,” she hisses.
