Dear Stranger,
There are a few things I must attempt to remember…
-My relationships have not been good.
-The Dark Lord is pure evil.
-I have to get out of this place.
I don’t know what time it is or how long I have been lying here but it is becoming incredibly tough for me to recollect things. Like who I am. Where I have ended up. What I was hit with.
“I see. You are up.”
Aahh. That infuriating voice again. All that’s needed to give me a severe headache.
I tried to move my hands but they were tied af. Help me. Someone.
“I am sorry I had to tie you up.”
“I will forgive you if you switch on the light and untie me.”
He laughed his annoying laugh once more.
“Well, I can do one of them.”
In about a minute, I had to squint hard to avoid the glare from the suddenly switched on light.
But there was no mistaking him.
That stupid oaf. The Martian.
Just to get the facts straight, I had set out to capture this impostor who had made off with a weapons consignment meant for the Mars party. These weapons were to be a part of the preliminary stages of the IHP or the Inhuman Project. Because of botching up this assignment, I had received flak from the Dark Lord. More importantly, I hated being duped. So, I had set out for revenge myself. Turns out it wasn’t that great an idea. He had drugged me with something the moment I had trained my light saber pistol at him and here I am now. Abducted. Stuck. Useless.
“What do you want from me?” he asked me.
“Seems like it is you who wants something from me.” I sneered.
“Well, that is true. But maybe not in the way you are thinking.”
He strolled casually over to a nearby couch and planted himself comfortably there. I surveyed the room carefully. It looked like a well-furnished flat. How can a Martian afford such a place? It was weird to say the least. And seriously, what was he doing here? If he wanted the weapons, he should have taken them and fled to Mars. Not lounged here still, waiting to be caught. Then, I remembered what I was here for.
“Uhh…so…I am Gina…what’s your name?” I volunteered bravely.
He turned his gaze from his device to me, a mischievous smile playing over his rakish lips. (Stop staring at him already!)
“Trying to talk now, are we?” he was grinning now. “The last time I looked at you, you were prepared to kill me.”
“Yeah well, what else do I do? You stole my consignment and made me look bad in front of everyone!! The Dark Lord was furious at me, thanks to you.” I vented it out on him in a rush of desperation.
A shadow passed over his face as if I had just reminded him of something unpleasant.
“The Dark Lord.”
“Yes. The Dark Lord, do you know him?”
He gave me a lopsided smile.
“Know him? He is my project, dear kid.”
“I. AM. NOT. A. KID.”
“Ahh okay, sorry for hurting your feelings. Just meant that you have no idea of the underworld.”
“I have more idea than you can even imagine.” I almost shouted a little.
He had no idea that I was working for the Resistance. Stupid pretentious—
“There are forces larger than your Dark Lord, you know.” He went on, dreamily, puffing a pipe and blowing smoke rings into the air. The pipe looked very different. And I was quite sure it wasn’t a fag. “Secret forces consistently working and biding their time. Waiting for the right time. To overthrow—”
It was as if he had suddenly caught sight of me. Realising who he was speaking against, he stopped abruptly, frowned and then smiled.
“I guess there is no harm telling you. Even if you are loyal to the Dark Lord, a puff of this will take everything away from your head.” He pointed to his pipe.
“Such arrogance. You think I am that easy to manipulate.” Of course I was not loyal to the Dark Lord. Far from it. But why divulge my secrets?
“Oh no no.” he shook his head vehemently. “I am not underestimating you. Just talking about the potency of what I am having. I have heard that the consistency of humans is not too strong. They forget. Live less longer. And the like.”
I made a face but what he said had roused the curiosity in me, so I persisted.
“Okay, so you are a part of some secret force. Something that can overthrow the Dark Lord?”
He nodded.
“There is an entire underworld that works in tandem with the forces that you know of. It is all so complicated you might not even realize who is who.”
“Well, for starters, who are you?”
He smiled again and offered me a drag.
“Want some?”
“No, thanks.” I offered up my tied up hands.
“Well, suit yourself.”
And he kept puffing on his pipe, completely disregarding me.
Shucks. If I want to win his confidence, I must take a drag. Anyway, what will one puff do?
“Okay, try me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I want your name in exchange.”
“Aah. Fair.”
He walked up to the chair he had tied me to and gently brought the pipe to my face. I hesitated a little. Was I really doing the right thing? Letting a stranger drug me? The stuff in the pipe wouldn’t be orange juice for sure.
But then, I write letters to a stranger, too.
How bad can things get?
What have I got to lose, after all?
Except my life, of course.
I took a very short puff. The shortest I could. And instantly, the room turned into a hemisphere. Like it was collapsing unto itself. The red in the Martian’s eyes expanded to the entire room, painting the walls with it. He had painted the walls red. LOL. I was thinking funny too. The color of the couch was moving into me. Lavender. Lavender lights and blurry nights. And then, there was a burst of pink entering me. My lips parted as a pair of lips came to meet them. A burst of colors. Another burst and another.
“Xenos.” A whisper in my ears. A sweet black whisper.
On a psychedelic trip,
The Rogue Stormtrooper
