Ex-Pendable

Movement. A fist, pounding on glass, the sound booming. Someone is hammering on a glass wall in front of me and yelling something but it’s so hard to hear. I draw breath, dimly aware of the cold fluid filling my lungs and yet I can still breathe. It had frightened me before… …the voices in my head clamor, demanding my attention. So many voices, so many things to do. Calculations fill my head, bits of conversation all around me, droning on…. Movement again. Two people arguing and waving at me…. Voices calling me back…. Numbers flash in front of me, line after line and it’s my voice as part of the rest, chanting numbers into the darkness…. Breaking glass and pressure that had been a part of me for so long falling away while the voices in my head scream shrilly as I sag limply, held in something. A hand slaps me but there’s still fluid in my lungs and there’s no more air… I can feel the liquid in the back of my throat but only a little spills out and my lungs are so heavy and there’s

Remember, my demon says, and so I do, Each and every face, The horror and the pain, While the others watch, Until I scream and scream again. Poor baby, my demon coos, Stroking the scars, Picking at the bandages, It's the ones you can't see, That hurt the most. It's not your fault, My demon smiles While the possibilities parade on by All the choices I didn't make, All the paths I didn't take. Let's wash these hands, As she shows me the blood, Only she and I can see, No matter how many times, I scrub them raw. I can feel the others wake, A demon for each flaw, Settling down by my well, To slake their thirst, On my tears and pain. There are pills for those who can get them, And booze for those who can't, Or something sharp to spill the blood, All so we can forget - But only for a while. Our demons wait patiently, For their toy to be ready, Once more to remember, Once more to regret, Once more to drink the pain. Don't listen to the demons, No power in their whispers, No pain

The general and I were just talking on my back porch when the gold and silver saucer appeared, hovering for a brief moment before landing, legs coming out in a smooth ballet of motion that told me that the operator was using the very expensive auto-park feature as it settled onto the ground. It then shimmered and turned glassy as tiny cameras on one side displayed a pixel on the opposite side. Anyone looking straight down would see a circular shadow and not what was casting it. “And,” the general drawled, putting down his coffee, “I suppose you have a reasonable explanation for all of this?” “Ah,” I managed, as a hatch opened up, looking like a hole into some strange factory, and a tiny figure bolted from inside, heading directly for me. “Ig!” it cried, just before it flung itself at me, landing on my chest. Oh god, it was Reg. “Uh, Reg, now is not…” “You gotta hide me! Please! Just for a few days!” “Hide you?” the General and I chorused. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should