Chapter Text
Content warnings for this chapter: self-harm, blood
MONDAY, 17TH OF AUGUST 2048
Tyler had for far too long laid his soul in his faith. A part of him was still mentally caged in bible verses as his hands trembled and his voice shattered through the silent church, or as much as he remembered of it anyway. He’d never liked going alone, it gave him too much time to think and judge the credibility of God’s word. But now alone was all he had.
Though now it seemed, for everyone else, religion was all humanity had. The world had turned grey, sunken beneath ocean waves and something unrecognizable Tyler couldn’t quite name. Even the word ‘humanity’ itself seemed like a daydream.
He pushed himself off the creaking bed, eyes immediately settling on hazy landscape through a window he hadn’t remembered to clean, or maybe just couldn’t be bothered to. They were one and the same these days.
Clouds covered the sky, the view void of colour. It was just building after building with no soul, no feeling. Blocky architecture, promoting efficiency over aesthetics.
And it wasn’t just the daily views that had lost their human touch, it was everything. If you came across another human being who didn’t completely ignore your existence on your errands outside of work, you could count yourself lucky. They’d motorized even the most mundane of tasks; your coffee would be prepared by robots, your groceries gathered and delivered by robots, your commute to work provided by machinery… Even the news on TV were delivered by artificial intelligence instead of human reporters, and you couldn’t trust whether half of them were made up stories for the shock effect or actually true.
Tyler worked at one of the few still open music stores on the outskirts of Columbus, where he’d be heading again today; another Monday that blended into all other days. People rarely even visited the place anymore. Mere hopes and prayers kept the ‘open’ sign from flipping the wrong way around forever. It was the only job Tyler had managed to score, a rare flicker of success in an otherwise seemingly doomed world, even with how tedious and repetitive his days were.
At least he had a job. That much couldn’t be said for half of the townsfolk.
Society was falling into a depressive slumber, day by day, hour by hour. But it didn’t matter. Not to the people in power, because they had all the money, so why should they care? It was all about money.
Tyler picked up an old sweatshirt off the ground beside his bed and threw it on, despite the slight stink. It wasn’t like anyone was going to notice. He’d be alone for his shift again, maybe encounter ten or so customers who would more than likely just toss their money onto the counter and speed out the door.
No one cared about manners anymore. Much less genuine human interaction. Especially not between strangers or between a customer service worker and their customer. Everything was just about providing efficiently and quickly, no matter the cost.
His dimly lit room felt gloomy in the early morning hours. It was barely 6AM, and Tyler could feel it in his bones. He yawned, stumbling into the kitchen to make some coffee in a routinely attempt to fight himself even half awake.
But as the coffee machine whirred on and he watched the slow drip into the pan, he felt sick. And not for the first time. It happened every time he was reminded of how automated everything was.
Tyler covered his mouth before turning the machine off, scrambling for a glass to fill with water before chugging it in one go.
Leaning against the cool, fake marble counter, he sighed, letting his eyes fall shut.
Soon, he was interrupted by a buzz against the surface. He looked over to his phone, seeing his mother’s name light up the screen.
Tyler reached over to answer and turned on the speaker, “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. Hey, you remember your father’s friend, Tony, right?” She began cheerily.
“Mhm?” Tyler mumbled while reaching into the cupboards to grab a cup and some instant coffee.
“He’s gonna come by your store today, if that’s alright. I figured, since y’know, you’re more experienced in that field, and he’s looking for some advice with some instruments, I hear.”
“Sure, yeah. I’ll help him out,” Tyler poured a spoonful of the coffee and turned on the kettle.
“Thanks, Tyler. You have a nice day at work, okay?”
Tyler could hear her smile, and it was almost contagious.
“Thank you.”
“Alright, bye bye now.”
And just like that, what was most likely going to be his only proper human conversation of the day, was over. And he was too tired to even try to make it last longer.
Tyler sighed as the kettle switched off, his eyes glued to the bubbling, boiling water. He picked it up and poured, just enough to still leave room for milk.
He turned around to open the fridge, only to see he was out of milk.
“Great,” he mumbled, practically slamming the door shut before stirring his black coffee and taking a sip. He grimaced at the bitter taste, but it wasn’t surprising to him anymore. It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t kept track of his groceries and probably wouldn’t be the last. It was becoming a reoccurring stutter in his routine, something tiny enough for him to keep forgetting, yet big enough to cause bothersome dents in his days.
Scooting over to the other side of the kitchen island, he sat down, grabbing his phone and intuitively unlocking his social media for a mindless scroll as he did every day.
None of the posts seemed genuine. Fake smiles, edited bodies and filtered backgrounds.
Oh, Riley’s in Bali, except she doesn’t even have a job and can barely afford a roof over her head, so maybe not, unless she’s bumming off of a stranger from Tinder. Ethan’s at a football game, except he swore on his mother’s grave he would never go to one again after she died, because it used to be their thing. Tristan’s posting about his new girlfriend, except the only thing he ever does behind closed doors is complain, because she abuses him on the daily, but he believes he deserves it, so he stays.
Tyler closed the app, staring at his phone wallpaper for a few seconds too long. It was him and his best friend, Josh, some years ago at a random metal concert. They’d gotten last minute resale tickets from the back of the huge venue and could barely even see the lead singer as he trotted through the stage a hundred times his size, but the boys didn’t mind. They danced along to every song, despite not knowing half of the lyrics, and it was enough.
A faint, bittersweet smile travelled to Tyler’s cheeks, his eyes studying each detail of the picture. It was kind of blurry from the dim lighting, but even when he couldn’t directly see them, he could always imagine Josh’s features, clear as day.
That day, he’d worn black eyeliner, and his hair was messy, faded out red streaks dancing through the back. Tyler had dyed them for him.
Sometimes he wishes Josh would still let him. It had been a long time since they’d properly hung out.
He glanced at the time, realizing he only had twenty minutes before he had to be out of the door. But he knew all he had to do was brush his teeth and throw on a cap to cover his greasy hair, so he sat still. His thumb met the iMessage icon, clicking and searching for Josh’s contact.
Tyler was hesitant to message, but he’d been postponing it for too long.
Tyler — 6:11AM
hey man, how have u been? it’d be fun to catch up
And his message was glowing on the screen, eerily still, before the ‘read’ tick shone grey in contrast to the blue message box.
Josh — 6:13AM
yo, i’d love to. u got work today?
Tyler didn’t hesitate to respond; his eyes were practically gleaming with excitement.
Tyler — 6:13AM
yeah, about to head in
Josh — 6:14AM
i don’t start until 9, i could swing by?
The younger boy was a beacon of light now, the skin of his cheeks almost bursting from the smile he couldn’t avoid.
Tyler — 6:15AM
yes please, save me from boredom
Josh — 6:15AM
haha i gotchu
At that, Tyler turned his phone off and swallowed the rest of his coffee, that suddenly didn’t taste quite as bitter anymore.
-
After a slight disagreement with his car at the parking lot of his twelve-story apartment building, he had finally managed to get to work.
It was almost too routinely how he twisted the key, opening the backdoor and sinking into the darkness to blindly search for the light switch with wobbly fingers.
The lights flickered on, illuminating the countless stock boxes lining up the walls. They’d already began collecting dust from how long they’d sat there, unneeded, just a reminder of more money down the drain for a business already barely left standing.
The building was old and you’d think it should have already collapsed with time. The paint on the walls was cracking and the corners stained. It stood out from the rest of the block that was brand new and glistening, though that wasn’t exactly good for business.
Tyler tossed his jacket onto one of the boxes with a thump and squeezed through the thin hall into the actual store. Flipping more lights on, he finally made it to the radio and scanned through a few channels before landing on one that was playing music and not just endless blabbering no one really cared to pay attention to.
He couldn’t trust the music was real either, though. Not these days. He just hoped it was, but every now and then, he’d catch himself realizing it lacks emotion, and he could feel his blood boiling at the thought. Even art wasn’t human anymore. And every day through a tedious 9-5 he fought against the way of the world.
Tyler hopped back behind the counter, beginning to count today’s start cash. Even though it was only used in rare instances now, Tyler had insisted their store keep cash as an option. And he’d eventually succeeded at convincing his boss of it.
He felt a very specific sense of familiarity, almost nostalgia, at the feel of the rough paper beneath his fingers as he counted the bills. Moving onto coins, the cool metal awoke him more than his failed coffee from earlier.
Then, he pushed the register shut and turned the machine on, typing in his login details and clicking ‘start shift’. And just like that, the store was open. With one click of a button, the door unlocked, the ‘open’ sign glowing neon against the windowpanes before him.
And Tyler, yet again, felt sick. Sick of how easy everything was. Yet he had never felt like it was as complicated. It was an emotion he couldn’t word, no matter how hard he tried. All he could do was taste the bile forming in his mouth and swallow it back down, because nobody else in his life seemed as bothered about the state of it all.
-
It had been about twenty minutes before the front door opened for the first time, and a familiar smile greeted Tyler at the entrance. He was reorganizing the shelves as Josh marched in. His hair was slightly lighter, presumably bleached by the sun, and the brown of his eyes was lit up a honey gold by the light above him.
Tyler ran over, wrapping his arms around the boy like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and wished he could hold the moment for a while longer.
Josh, caught off guard by the sudden hug, took a few seconds to process before reciprocating, letting strong, yet gentle arms envelope Tyler.
When Tyler pulled away, his eyes were glossy.
“Hey, you okay?” Josh asked, worry evident in his tone.
Tyler sniffled, fighting it back, “Yeah…”
Josh’s brows raised in question, not buying it.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. I just…” Tyler began, turning back to his work. “I’ve just been a bit lonely, that’s all.”
Tyler wasn’t expecting much of a response, probably just a chuckle or a ‘yeah, me too’, but Josh wasn’t like that.
“Hold on.” He skipped to the end of the aisle, to the massive drum set that had been collecting dust for the better half of a year now. Somewhere in the past kids used to come and play, test out the kit they knew their parents couldn’t afford, but not anymore.
Tyler’s brows furrowed as Josh rounded the drums, sitting down behind them like it was the one place he was meant to be.
He picked up the flimsy drumsticks off the ground, slightly adjusted his seat and began drumming.
Tyler was about to laugh and spit out some stupid joke, until he realized the boy actually wasn’t half bad. Sure, the drums themselves were rusty and old, but Josh handled the rhythm. And for a second there, Tyler could see how his face relaxed, his eyes fixated on the next drum.
But just as quickly as it started, Josh pedalled the hi-hat one more time and turned over to Tyler, “How’s that?” he chuckled.
Tyler hid it well, but his thoughts were deep in the details. The distraction had worked better than Josh hoped, Tyler’s head lost in the way Josh’s lip ring caught the light, the almost imperceptible smokey black eyeshadow covering his eyelids…
But he shook his head with a mocking laugh, “You’re a professional.”
C’mon now, he may have been infatuated for a short moment, but he wasn’t letting that show.
Josh snickered before giving Tyler one last ba-dam-tss and standing up again.
It wasn’t until then that Tyler noticed the shirt Josh was wearing. It was the same overpriced black band tee he’d insisted on buying off the merch stand at the concert they’d gone to a few years back, the same shirt he was wearing in the photo behind all the meaningless apps on Tyler’s phone. The fabric was more worn out now, the black looked more grey, and the seams had a few tiny holes, but somehow that made it an even bigger of a deal to him.
He had the same layered chains around his neck and hanging from his belt that Tyler had seen a million times in rotation. His black jeans were more ripped than before, individual bleach stains across his thighs, but Tyler’s mind went back to the shirt.
“You’re still wearing that shirt?”
Josh’s brows raised dramatically, “Duh. I spent half of my savings on this thing.”
Tyler laughed, and it bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to laugh like this.
Josh took a few steps closer to Tyler, looking over his shoulder as his hands worked almost automated, retagging the items on the shelves, reducing prices in hopes that maybe then someone would buy them.
Josh was almost too close.
If Tyler let his focus slip, he could hear the other boy’s breathing, and it would almost cause him to trip over his own.
“I see you’re still abiding to the dress code around here,” Josh joked, a remark at how Tyler absolutely did not follow the dress code, ever.
“Shut up. It’s not like anyone cares,” he muttered, bringing items to the front of the shelf. “I never see anyone, and customers look at everything but me.”
Josh could sense the hint of sadness in his voice, “Having a job’s not what it’s cut out to be, huh?”
Tyler let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Josh finally took a step away from him. “Tell me about it.”
A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Tyler spoke again, “How’s your job?”
Josh chuckled, “So entertaining. I love watching robots do my work for me.”
Tyler snickered, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.
He left the shelves, slouching over to the little seated corner of the shop by the biggest window they had. He sat down, fingers softly running over the now broken disc player by the windowsill, like he was afraid his touch could destroy it more.
Josh followed, but he didn’t say anything.
“Do you ever…” Tyler started, his voice so quiet Josh could barely even hear.
The latter sat down across from him, eyes so caring, so gentle that Tyler had to consciously try not to cry.
“…wish there was something you could do? To fix it. All of this.”
Josh tilted his head an inch, “Like what? Build a time machine and tell billionaires to forget about robots?”
But Tyler wasn’t laughing, “I don’t know.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, brows knitted together.
He wanted so badly for things to change. For life to feel worth living again. Everything it was now—just running through the motions, keeping the wheel spinning to no end—made his chest ache.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
Josh could sense the irritation in his voice, so he broke through, because he did understand it. But he’d spent years coming to terms with life like it’s a shitty video game he wouldn’t ever quite get. “I do, yeah.”
There was something in Tyler’s expression that closely resembled surprise, but gratitude replaced the weariness in his chest instead. He turned to Josh, eyes slightly wider than before. “Good,” he mumbled.
-
For the following hour the boys sat by the slowly rising sun, letting the growing autumn weather decorate where their eyes laid glued, all the while feeling conversation flow easier than it should have after all this time. They discussed family, work (though it wasn’t Tyler’s favourite topic), and eventually somehow made it to religion and love.
It was nice to finally talk with someone, and Tyler only hoped the conversations wouldn’t stop happening again tomorrow.
On the drive back home from work, Josh’s words ran through his mind as Tyler’s fingers gripped onto the steering wheel tighter in hopes of staying conscious long enough to make it back in one piece.
“I’ve never been in love. Though, I’m not sure if I’d even know if I was.”
Something about the way it came out so effortlessly, like it was something he’d been thinking on a lot, kind of stung in Tyler’s chest.
They weren’t teenagers anymore, maybe everything that happened in high school would stay in high school, but suddenly, Tyler felt like a huge chunk of the Josh he knew was a puzzle yet again.
Back in the simpler days, they’d make bets about who gets a date with their crush first, and Josh won. Every time. It just came to him so easily. He always knew what to say, what to do and where to go. Tyler used to envy him to the point it hurt sometimes.
And he wouldn’t admit it to Josh, but Tyler had read lines from his diary after class, when Josh had forgotten a page open on his desk. The words spoke of blooming flowers he’d been growing in his parents’ garden, waiting on the day he gains the courage to give one to the reason his heart still beats. It was the most intricate Tyler had ever seen Josh write, but he didn’t push about it. He figured Josh would come to him with whoever was giving him life again whenever he was ready.
But he never did.
Maybe it was just teenage hormones, making him think he’d found something special then. Maybe now, by the age of 24, they’d both come to the realization that love was rarer than gold in this world. Maybe Josh was telling the truth, and Tyler had come to the wrong conclusion back then. But that didn’t solve the conflict in his mind, only created more wonder and curiosity for his old best friend. Were there other parts about Josh Dun he’d completely misread?
-
Tyler swerved to his parking lot, switching off the engine of the old wine-red pickup truck before making his way to the slowest elevator in existence, giving him a good two minutes to ponder as he made his way to the 11th floor. He’d always been a fan of high places. Something about the controlled adrenaline, the knowing a single misstep could be the end, was exhilarating to him.
As the elevator doors opened, he walked to the end of the hallway, flicking his tenant card to the reader by his door and watched the light turn green. The door opened to a home-y wooden scent, mixed with hints of lavender from the load of laundry he’d done the previous night.
Tyler tossed his keys onto the hallway dresser with a jingle before discarding his shoes underneath and sighing as he met the same old living room once again. A part of him yearned for new doors to open. For the sun to shine differently, even if only for a moment.
He shifted lazily onto the couch, his fingertips hovering over the remote buttons, hesitant, before only pushing the device further away and sinking into the cushions.
For a good ten minutes or so, Tyler just stared at the ceiling, unmoving, imagining shapes across the shadows, tired eyes drooping closer and closer to a daze.
Then, the doorbell rang.
Tyler snapped awake, blinking away the dust from his eyes. He struggled onto his feet, making it to the front door, while still adjusting to the light.
To his surprise, there was no longer a person—or a robot—behind the door, only a dropped off letter on the ground. Despite the fear of his knees giving in, Tyler bent to pick it up and closed the door.
He ripped open the envelope, unfolding the worn paper inside it.
Christ still feels you.
Join us at the Paladin Church.
Tyler scoffed, crumpling the paper to toss into the trash, only for his mind to wander as the words printed with blobbed ink continued drilling further into his head.
It had been years by now since he’d actually stepped foot into a church, and he felt like it would be a sin to return now. Like his betrayal had been too great. The way he’d been living, closer to a sewer rat than a human, was like a burning disgrace on his bloodline.
He’d made his way to the front of his childhood church often during everything that had been going on, but it was like there was a forcefield keeping him out, and each time he came back home with an even heavier heart.
He dropped back onto the couch, eyes finding the half-open window and the blinking city lights in the distance.
Christ still feels you.
God.
God?
Tyler jumped up again, a light bulb set alight in his head. Skipping to the dusty old bookshelf in the corner of the living room, he scrolled through the books with steady hands that were slowly collecting the dust particles as they went.
He kept looking for a while before coming across what he’d been searching for; a spell book.
It was ancient, and Tyler wasn’t even quite sure where he’d originally acquired it. Maybe a joke-y gift from a friend, or a passed down box of old junk from previous neighbours.
The cover was decorated in delicate purple, gold scriptures across the slowly fraying edges. Something about it looked almost magical, though the boy wasn’t sure if he truly believed in that sort of thing. Though, there must be magic in God, too, and somehow his faith there never wavered.
He opened the book, scouring through the pages and eyeing chapter titles.
After a while, he went back to the opening page, and read the text in bold, clear lettering: “Not for beginners. Includes spells and rituals for dark magic. Perform at your own risk.”
Tyler laughed out loud at that, and at himself for this idea.
“Fuck it,” he huffed before reading through the table of contents until stopping at ‘Entity conjuration’.
He couldn’t believe he was seriously about to open the page and follow the instructions.
Disclaimer: This spell forces an entity into your space and reality. No guarantees can be made about the nature of entities you will summon. Your energy determines the cost.
Tyler furrowed his brows before scoffing and moving onto the ingredient list.
“Blood, candles, salt, an offering (such as food or drink, or symbolic items related to the entity you’re attempting to summon), a sacrifice (such as blood, animal bones etc.)”
A sacrifice? Was this really what Tyler was up to now?
But then he thought of all the times he’d wished he could laugh with someone in cold winter air again. To climb up mountains that make him so out of breath his lungs ache. To dance in the rain, singing his favourite songs. But that wasn’t the state of the world anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time, and Tyler knew if there was a chance to go back to when humanity wasn’t a made-up word, he had to take it. Even if it felt ridiculous.
He sighed, placing the book onto the vinyl flooring before going to gather everything he’d be needing.
As he had everything except the sacrifice, he stared down at his wrists.
The scars were faint, but they were still there, forever a reminder of rock bottom. Only now, this felt like a point below that.
He sighed, making his way to the bathroom and opening the cabinet above the sink, grabbing a glistening razor blade from its box that made shivers run down Tyler’s spine. It was cold. And too familiar.
Before he could overthink his decision, he tossed the blade away, shaking his head as if physically willing the plan gone.
He’d spent too many years searching for a way to stay clean. This shouldn’t be where he’d give up again.
But he had to.
He brushed off every thought getting in the way and forced the blade back between his fingers. He sat back down on his living room floor and began painting the pentagram. Compromising for his own sanity. He wasn’t about to let himself near bleed out on the floor again, so he dipped a brush into a bucket of red paint, limiting the amount of sacrificing he’d be doing tonight.
Besides, it’s not like any of this was going to work. There’s no such thing as entities. Not anymore at least. But might as well be thorough.
He watched crimson red attach to the floorboards, a visualization of how pathetic this planet had gotten. He spent his time on making every symbol and every curve by the book, scared one wrong move might mess it all up.
As the last brushstroke connected back around, Tyler stood up, watching the paint dry before sitting gently in the center, rounding himself in salt. Carefully, he placed the candles by each point of the star, lighting them individually with intention, rearview catching as the fire began to dance.
He picked up the book of spells again and placed it right in front of him, staring at the words on the splayed-out pages.
The silence in the room was almost deafening, every second a countdown to eternity.
Tyler wasn’t that knowledgeable in who his options of summoning would be, and he surely didn’t know what any of the possible consequences could be, but he had heard of the Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare and handicraft, Athena, during some of his religious history classes before. That was his best shot now, though his expectations were unset and bleary.
He took a few seconds to feel the breeze through the still open window in front of him, softly swaying around the flames surrounding him.
Then, he pressed the cool steel of the blade between his fingers before steadily
guiding the edge through the skin of his palm, watching as warm blood coated
his fingertips, slowly dripping onto the floor.
It was now or never, and Tyler wasn’t one to say never.
“I sing to Grey-Eyed Athena…” He hesitated as he read from the page, trying his hardest to swallow the taste of ridicule off his tongue. “…Mighty in battle, protector of cities.”
But with each word he spoke, intention began to lace his tone. Certainty taking over fear.
“Hail Athena in triumph, Hail Athena in the heat of battle. Hail Athena in fiery discourse, Hail Athena of many nations.” He stopped to take a deep breath, his chest getting heavier with every word. “Rise up, O’ Athena, exalted over Kings.”
Another breath. “Rise up, exalted over Emperors. Be near to us, Athena. That the voice of the people should ever be heard, and wise counsel ever guide our power.”
And right then, a candle blew out. Tyler flinched before looking back to the instructions telling him to keep repeating the last verse until it works.
He swallowed, this was really happening, “Rise up, O’ Athena…”
Another candle out.
“…Rise up, exalted over Emperors,” his heartbeat was picking up speed, the words in his view blurring with nerves. “Be near to us… Athena.”
Third candle.
Fourth.
Fifth.
And it was dark again.
Tyler let out a shuddering breath, eyes darting around the room, looking for something. Anything.
“H— hello?” He tried, and for a moment, got no response.
Until one of his windows shattered, glass catching on the bare skin of Tyler’s arms as he shielded his body against the ground, a soft, scared noise leaving his throat unwillingly.
Slowly, he peeked from underneath wobbling hands.
“Summoning us? Here?” A dark voice demanded from the other room.
Tyler snapped to the direction of the sound coming from his bedroom, eyes wide and regretful.
What had he done?
The voice belonged to a tall man, one with more muscle than Tyler could ever hope to have. He was wearing dark clothing, his stance at least twice as intimidating as his voice.
“What are you looking for, kid?”
“Uh…” Tyler stuttered, shock slowly coating his expression. “Help?”
He, too, realized immediately how pathetic he sounded.
The man let out a huff of disbelief, “From a god who doesn’t know you? That’s bold.”
“Kind of desperate here, sorry,” Tyler shrugged his shoulders shakily, biting his cheek from anxiousness.
“Good luck. You dialled the wrong number.”
And just like that, the man vanished, only leaving still air behind.
Tyler’s eyes flashed back and forth, scanning the dim room, a failed attempt at processing what just happened.
As he pushed to his feet, he winced, removing glass shards from skin.
He walked over to the mirror in the hallway, eyes flickering at the pitiful sight before him. Blood covered his arms and the back of his neck, holes in his shirt, his face the palest he’d ever seen it.
Whoever he summoned surely wasn’t Athena.
-
A few moments passed as Tyler did his best to gather himself together into a human being again, his gloved hands deep in a bowl of bleach as he scrubbed the floor.
The doorbell rang, probably waking up his neighbours, but they’d never complained about anything before, so maybe they’d be forgiving now, too.
Tyler ripped off the gloves as he marched to the door, tightening the bandage covering the wound across his palm.
He opened the door to meet the most conflicted expression on Josh’s face.
Now he was wearing a dirt-stained Metallica-hoodie with broken strings, but the same jewellery and jeans as in the morning.
“What the hell, dude?” He demanded, letting himself in by shoving past Tyler and tossing his motorbike helmet onto the couch.
“Look—” Tyler tried to cut in.
“No. What the hell?”
Josh turned to face Tyler as he shut the door. The look on Josh’s face was expectant, for an answer, for an explanation. Anything. His eyes were wide, shoulders tense.
“I…” Tyler huffed, gaze on the floor, too embarrassed to meet the other boy’s.
“It’s 3AM, Tyler. What was that message about?” Josh insisted. “‘The world is probably ending soon’?!”
Tyler let out a laugh. It was all he could do to keep himself from either screaming or crying. Or both.
Josh almost looked offended.
“I fucked up, okay,” Tyler finally dared to lift his eyes to the tired boy whose hair was lazily falling over his eyes. “And, like, big time. This isn’t just some ‘I forgot to lock the door at work’-fuck up.”
He began pacing around towards the living room, hands speaking with him, “If I don’t get this shit under control, I might be the reason humanity goes extinct. And not just the idea of it, the entire human race.”
Tyler was speaking a whole lot of nothing, only twisting Josh’s brain into more and more knots with every word. “Wait, what? What— what the hell are you saying?”
Tyler stopped, looking at Josh with something close to panic in his eyes. “I summoned a god. Well, probably more than one—”
“What?!”
Tyler now had to fight harder than ever to not turn into a waterfall of plight and shame.
“Are you insane?! What the—” Josh started, volume rising gradually, until he registered Tyler’s expression and the trembling of his jaw, and finally looked down at their surroundings.
There were still shards of glass all around the living room floor, and the wind fought like a storm to push through the hole left by the broken window.
“I didn’t—” Tyler squeaked.
Josh sighed, taking a step closer to the boy and placing firm hands on his shoulders. But Tyler didn’t let him see his tears. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Josh’s neck. He didn’t care if he’d suffocate doing it, the world was in pieces anyway.
Josh let out another deep breath as he pressed his hands reassuringly against Tyler’s back.
“We’ll sort it out.”
Tyler let out another quiet sob, but they both knew this wasn’t as easy as Josh was trying to force it to be. But, for now, all he knew was that his childhood best friend was in distress, and even though he was responsible for that himself this time, Josh knew what he’d promised when they were kids.
“I got your back, always,” he repeated now, years down the line.
And he was keeping that promise.
-
Tyler followed Josh into the balcony, shutting the door behind them. He never had use for the space, but at least Josh’s smoking habit would gain the room some use.
Josh creaked open the window before leaning against the wall and digging in his pockets for the pack and lighter, soft wind meeting his skin. “So, what happened again?”
Tyler sighed, propping his feet up on the other end of the couch he sat down on. It was some old, dark red “vintage” couch his mom had thrifted for him some years back, left rotting in the humidity of a high-rise balcony. “I did the ritual,” Tyler began.
“Which was?” Josh asked immediately, before taking a drag of his now lit cigarette.
“The pentagram, candles, salt circle, the gist. It wasn’t anything I didn’t expect. I’ve watched horror movies,” he tried with a chuckle.
Josh nodded in approval, ignoring the joke as he blew smoke out the window, “Okay, go on.”
“I, uhm…” Tyler began fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. “I used blood as the sacrifice part, or whatever.”
Josh raised his eyes to Tyler like a terrified puppy, focus flicking to the bandage wrapped snug around Tyler’s palm. He’d completely missed it before.
He was afraid of Tyler falling off the deep end again, but he didn’t say anything.
“And then I just spoke the chant, and kept repeating it until the air got heavy,” Tyler shrugged.
“And?”
He sighed, “Then the candles started to blow out…”
Josh’s interest piqued at the detail, “Began? All of them? And not all at once?”
With furrowed brows, Tyler finally lifted his gaze back to Josh, “Yeah. One at a time until they were all out. Why?”
Josh shut his eyes, heaving out an almost trembling breath at the implication. He’d never flaunted around with it, and he wasn’t even sure if Tyler knew, but he used to be tangled up in all sorts of mythology and magic related scenes, and he’d picked up a thing or two along the way.
One thing he did know for sure was that none of what had happened tonight was promising.
“Ty, did you not read how to interpret the results of doing something like this? Did you even know what would’ve told you yousucceeded?” Josh asked, trying to hide the worry in his mind.
“I didn’t think I would,” Tyler laughed nervously. “I don’t believe in this stuff, you know that. I was just…” He looked back down at his fingers again, “desperate.”
Josh stomped the cigarette out before turning to Tyler again, “You didn’t just summon a god, Tyler. You summoned five.”
And the air stilled. For just a moment.
“What?” Tyler laughed, “No, I didn—” his gaze dropped back onto his lap, panicky eyes a visualization of the events of the night unfolding in his head like a movie.
“Us…” He whispered so quiet Josh could barely catch it.
“Sorry?”
“Us,” Tyler repeated, head back up again. “He said… ‘summoning us’.”
The wheels were trying to operate in Josh’s head, “Who? What are you talking about?”
Tyler sat up, lifting his legs off to the edge of the seat and leaning his elbows against knees to keep himself somewhat stable, “The god. The only one I saw. I thought he was…”
Josh’s expression grew more stunned, eyes wide, struggling to cope with the news, “You talked to him?”
“Yeah, yeah. He was here. I thought he was just, like…” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Really arrogant? Referring to himself as multiple for some sort of ego boost. I don’t know!”
Tyler buried his head in his hands, meanwhile Josh had turned around, leaning on the railing to keep himself steady.
It had barely been a couple of hours since Tyler thought there was no such thing as deities, and now he’d thrown himself in the middle of war with multiple of them. These creatures that he knew nothing about, that should have been myths. A thing of the past, if even ever real. Something people just hold onto for the sake of staying sane on a planet that doesn’t cater to their needs or follow line of justice.
How’s that for fixing lack of humanity in a world that almost meets the criteria for apocalyptic?
“What did I do?” Tyler whimpered through his fingers.
Josh let out a laugh, “God, I have no clue, Ty.”
But Josh’s choice of words was ironic. There may not have been a god, but now the epitomes of one were roaming the streets, and not only had Tyler’s faith been crumbled before his own eyes, the world might be next.