Help I'm Alive (Chaos Theory) [The Party]

Vacuum of doubt, of change, of delirium, of love, of serendipity, of the face in the mirror.

Vivaldi. January 22. 1974

His sleeves was tucked in the most unusual way. Was there a battle to prepare for? Amidst the rave, the carpet dance floor?

I was the man on the island. The crowd was my sea. Salty was their demeanor, but helpless were their waves. I couldn't think of a better night to think.

And then he walked up to me with a glass of colada.
"Have you passed the suitcase?"

"....yes. But I'm not sure if we've got the right location"

I remembered it clearly. The grin he hid inside the mask of empathy. There was no modus operandi to this mission. It only had a goal.
"...and we've done everything possible to get it"

"How bout the owner of this place?"
"He's drugged"

I locked myself in the bathroom after that conversation. One was for the taming of adrenaline. The other was the goal. It was to happen here.

Oh Allah, I am afraid. I am afraid and doubtful. Don't let me be the accomplice of Shaitan.

Could I have materialize such a thought, I would.
Could I have stopped the whole atrocity, I would.
Could I have answered the door, I would.

"Open the damn door!"

But I couldn't.

"Hey, it'd be all over soon"
"What will be over? I don't like the sound of that. Na-ah"

There was that empathy again

"Yarhamukallah"

My mind was dislodged of it's altar. Time was immaterial. Life was immaterial. I was material.

That means it will hurt


Soft voices. Like breeze in a nuclear reactor.

"You have the trigger, Simon"

Blood ran cold. There was nothing else to interpret. Except for a resounding din of "No other....God....Muhammad"

I'm in a toilet. God forbid this will be my grave.

And the door was still being hammered at that time.

It was all wired. The sewers, the argon lighting. I didn't know why I was there.

"YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF THERE. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. YOU ARE IN A CRAZY CONSPIRACY. NO ONE 'NEEDS' YOU. A PROP. THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE"