Chapter 2 It Gets Easier

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Light.  Glorious Light.  Oh Shi-

Explosion.  Two bodies rolled onto the scene, entangled together like seaweed.  The hall was filled with that black mess.  Inky glop gushed out from the locker in spurts. Only dying out after the pair were sufficiently coated.  They laid there for a moment like washed up corpses. 

I am in so much pain.  Yet I feel numb to the point where I can't move...  What a strange sensation.  Huh it seems my lips still work.  What a nice view of the floor.  Where is oh there you are.

Ernest sprung up from the ground.  He didn't seem to be awake. The shaky maneuver was all reflex.  There he goes.  Eyes wide open.  Man that is a creepy dead living look. 

Reader remained motionless, staring at Ernest with just peripheral vision.  The two made eye contact of sorts.  Ernest didn't look like he was going to help.  Reader groaned and got up alone. 

SLAM.

"It's just the Locker, Reader.  Game's over for today.  You did good."

Snick. Clickclickclickclickclunk.

Heeheheheheahahahaha.  Well done you two.  Come again come again~

Ernest wiped off some goop from his shoulder then looked at Reader.  He squinted.

"What?"

"Don't what me Ernest.  What was that all about?  What is this?  Give me some answers."

"It was a game Reader.  I'm sure you've played them.  In some form.  [Deedoodee].  That's the bell.  It's time for class.  Yawwwwwn.  Got to turn in this homework."

Huh.  How much time has passed?  It's already daylight.  Where are all the weird lockers and stuff?  Is the hall filling- no, the hall is emptying out.  Where is Ernest... He's already vanished into a crowd that's thinning out. 

Class.  School.  Information.  That's what this place is.  A source for information.  Everyone comes here for information.  For socializing.  To keep up to date.  To find out how to make.  To talk, chat, pursue dreams, be exposed to weird things.  Even in this day, the human part of us still craves interaction. 

Can't even remember what I came here for.  Let's just surf a bit here...

Traditional Setup Environment. 
Classroom. 
Four columns by Eight rows, desks. 
Board. 
Instructor.

Students. 
Environment Complete.

Instruction: _
Hmm... Stumble it.

Random Instruction .  .  . 
Selected. 
Beginning Information Load...
"Foundation Information during Story Development."

Loading...  Complete.

Foundations huh... Feel like I could use some.  What was that all about with the Locker?  Who is that Ernest guy anyways?  I remember just surfing on the web and thinking about something... I vaguely remember coming here.  Actually I was asked here I think.  Asked or stumbled here one or the other.  What kind of homework was that.  A game he said.  That weird lock grafted itself on my hand.  Huh...

Reader looked at where the lock was during their adventure.  A mark was there. 
But no visible lock. 

Don't tell me it's under my skin or something.  No wait.  I think I saw a padlock on the locker turning and clicking itself shut when we got out.  So what is this on my arm?  An impression?  Shiver.  Well I know it wasn't a dream.  I can't be losing my mind.  Not even paying attention to the instruction.  I wonder if everyone else is lost in their own thoughts -

!!!

Ernest!

He's just sitting there.  No.  He's sleeping in class.  Really.

[Deedoodee]

There's the bell.  Let's just follow him then.

The classes went by with little attention spent on the instruction.  All attention was spent on Ernest.  All the other people looked like vague shapes, blurs, transparent.  But there was Ernest, sleeping or staring blankly at the board.  Solid.  In full Technicolor. 

Reader attempted multiple times to get Ernest's attention.  Whispering.  Passing notes.  Dropping items nearby.  Throwing things at him.  Even interrupting a class by shouting. 

Nothing.  Is this guy deaf or something?

In one class Ernest seemed to wake up for just a moment.  He pulled out a sheet of paper.  A bottle of ink.  Then proceeded to dip his finger tips into the ink, and use those fingers to write with.  In a moment of deep thought he tapped his chin and scratched around, leaving stains everywhere.  When he noticed he put his face into his palm.  Then realized he made it worse.

End of the day.  Last class. 

I give up.  Might as well go home.

"Hey Reader.  Come on, time to go do homework."

"Oh now you pay attention to me?  I've been trying to get you to talk to me all day!"

"I was sleeping.  I haven't slept for nearly three days.  I usually sleep in class anyways."

"What? Why?"

"The Locker remember?  Speak of the devil, we're here.  Go ahead and open it."

It was true.  The mirage, that strange hall from last time was up again.  Before them was a dented beat up locker with a padlock.  Something was oozing out from the bottom. 

Is this thing drooling? Yuck.

"Ernest.  I am not opening this until you give me answers."

"You say that, but your hand is opening the door already."

"What the-Stop Hand! Stop!"

Heehahahaah! Welcome back lovelies! I hope you had plenty of time to rest!

No no no no no stop turning gah no the lock it's wrapping around my hand again, Ernest don't grab my wrist like that no, not throughthedoorgraah

*

It's always dark in here.

*

GarbleGarbleWarpedsoundnoisestaticspeechsomethingnothing.

"-Answers."

Ernest didn't turn around.  He was busy squatting down trying to grasp something.  The room was black in the sense that there were all the color variations of black and its various shades.  Viscous fluids bubbled everywhere like a lava lamp.  Weird place, but at least there's no endless falling sensation.  To look anywhere is to invite a sensation that there is infinite space, yet the whole place feels claustrophobic.  Ernest grunted as he grabbed a wriggling blob. 

"There.  Now I need..."

He tapped his chin. 

Those fingers...  I still find it hard to believe that he used those to rip into that guy.  Got a strong grip.  Like iron.  The finger tips are still covered in ink.  Hmm, now that I got a good look at him his clothes haven't changed.  My clothes are still normal too.  Let's see...

Ernest wore a black jumpsuit.  Long sleeveless black vest.  Looks like a monster got to it.  Hair unkempt.  Looks like the guy hasn't freshened up in a week.  His face is so covered in ink that it's impossible to tell if he has any facial hair.  Those are some big bags under his eyes.  There's a patch on his suit can't get a good look at the design though...

"Hmm... Have you given up asking questions then?" 
Ernest stopped long enough to look at Reader.

Blink.

"What?  No.  Yes.  No wait no.  I still want answers.  Was that a smirk?  Alright uh.  How about.  How about how you got into all this.  Whatever this is?  Are you even real?"

"Am I real?  How about you Reader?  Maybe you're the one not real..." 

Ernest rammed his hands forward - hands melding into the body. 

Feel's Weird.

"Ah sorry.  There I've removed my hands.  Hmm... A real person huh?  I bet you have those conversations you know.  With people.  Do you do your work?  Maybe you don't.  Me? Hahaha ah yes you're the one asking the questions.  Whatever this is... whatever could it be.  One day I was tired.  I put my homework away.  And then I realized the next day that I put it in the wrong locker.  And I started to hear some laughter.  Thought it was lack of sleep.  That's when the Locker began speaking to me.  I thought, well, I've seen worse.  So long story short the Locker told me that it had my homework.  I said, 'great give it to me'.  It said, 'play with me first'.  I was in a hurry.  I needed that homework.  I signed some kind of contract to try and get it back.  It came out like a printer now that I think about it.  Signed away.  Then the locker ate me."

Ernest stood there with a sour expression on his face.  It must have been a bad experience. 

Did the eyes adjust to the darkness?  Reader could now see what Ernest was doing.  He worked as he talked.  Hands grabbing squirming blobs.  They looked like words at times.  Around them was a lattice work in simple box grids.  The blobs were being shaped, then put inside.  Once in they locked together creating a complex series of moving blocks.  It was like being on the inside of a Rubik's Cube that shifted with each additional piece. 

"I started to play the games just to get the homework.  But after a while the Locker hinted that it could do something for me.  That it already has, and I just didn't realize it.  I want to get out of this place Reader.  The school.  I'm talking about the 'School'.  I haven't been able to leave... and I feel that for the rest of my life I'll be stuck in here.  And even if I get out, I'll have to return.  I don't feel alive here.  Hahaha you never really escape 'School', never..."

Ernest added another jelly blob to the wall.

"That should do it."

Ernest took a step back.  Segments on the wall moved into new patterns.  Some blocks turned in place.  Others made their way to opposite walls.  Light rubbed itself in, shinning through the friction of the cubes. 

ClickclickclunkThunk.  Click.  Click.  Click.

"You know Ernest.  That sound gets really annoying."

"You get used to it Reader."

"That was my next question.  Why Reader?  My name is-"

Ernest put up a hand to pause.  One hand dug around in his pocket while he spoke, "Remember when you asked me about your speech being put into quotations?  I'm not sure.  Think of it like a sing-along where the audience goes along with what's happening on stage.  Where is... found it.  Here."

He handed over a small item that glinted in the light.

A mirror?

"What do you see?"

"What do I see?  I see my reflection in the mirror of course."

Ernest frowned at that. 

"What?"

"Let's go.  The Locker is waiting.  At least this time you're coherent enough to see us get thrown into chaos."

"Hey you didn't answer my- WHOA SHI-"

Blinding light.

Hideous laughter.

Sick sensation in the stomach like being thrown across the universe.

*

HAHAHAHA New Assignment kids!

Remember to have some fun while fighting for you're life 'k?

*

Bzzzt.

Click.

Playing Message_

"Answers... We all want answers.  These Games.  This School.  These Lockers.  The Rules.  This Black Goo.  I don't know it all either - that is to say I have my suspicions, Reader, but you are not ready to hear them.  I don't know why you are here... Reader.  I just know that you are.  Whether or not you're just a figment from the Lock... I can't tell.  And if I did call for help and you are my salvation.  If you are indeed real.  I hope one of us will figure things out.  Soon."

Bzzzt.

Click.

ClunkbzztclicklclickClick ClickclickClunkBzzt Zzzkt Bzzt BzzClick Hehe.BzztCli-Haha. hAHaH HAHAHAA-zzt Zzzzt.

Beeewwwoop.