Lugubrious Delirium

Philters of various shapes, sizes and colors rest placidly atop the many shelves of the decrepit laboratory. Each a unique decanter filled with dazzling liquids, saturated body parts, and what could only be described as the remnants of lost dreams. Yet, one could find grandiose within these unsightly elixirs. Offers composed of absolute allure, an unknown, coveted or, depending on the imbiber, abjured side effect were rumored to be randomly inserted within. All one had to do was drink their chosen philter to expose such ill-begotten side effects.

These philters remained as conspicuous as the next until the day one amongst their numbers was selected by some courageous wanderer, slowly boosting the appeal of the unchosen. These objects became the marvel of the Laboratory of Wayward Ambitions. They became known as a dance with destiny, a chance to make something out of not. Over time, this lab and its mysterious contents gave birth to legends, both of heroes and villains, as daring souls selected and consume one of the many concoctions found within. It was these people and the stories in which they spun that increased the allure of this ancient facility,from generation to generation.

It was that very reason that the young mind of Charles Hasten found himself standing, almost in awe, in the midst of thousands of tantalizing vials, each a unique possibility that just might solve all of his problems that have driven him to his most recent, drastic actions. Charles also know that each on of these philters possessed the ability to make things worse, but his circumstances were dire and he needed a way out, even if it meant a nightmarish life feeding off the remnants of decaying animals. He stood within the enormous room, contemplating his chances, hopeful of success, and wondering about her, Ilene. If only he could undo the past, but that was not an option. He came to terms with his current predicaments and stepped further into the lab, tasting the futures that slowly churned before him.

Eventually, Charles made it to a shelf covered with cobwebs, obviously not touched nor considered in quite some time. He looked blankly at each philter resting upon the shelf and froze as he sensed that each of these concoctions seemed to be calling out to him. He leaned closer; his face almost up against the shelf and then, Charles, shut his eyes. Instantaneously he heard the pleas. Over here, I have what you are seeking. No, select me. It is I who contain your dreams. Charles it is you, finally we can become one… Opening his eyes, Charles stepped backwards and knew his future was just an arm’s reach away.

Each of the philters on this shelf seemed to be more repulsive, and well…just down right utterly disgusting, than the majority he had already passed up. Charles grab each philter, one-by-one, and examined each with a keen eye. Not a one of these vials resembled anything that would be pleasant to drink, but Charles knew that some of the greatest fates were acquired from the foulest, most ghastly smelling potions that had once rested within this laboratory. Charles instantly made his decision and grabbed the most grotesque bottle from his narrowed choices.

Charles gazed into the bottle and examined the greenish tint of the liquid as he watched small eyeballs, purple chunks of tongue, and what could only be the extremities of an amphibious muck dweller. His insides curdled in disgust, but he had made up his mind, he had chosen and he had to continue no matter what resentments or repercussions lie ahead.

The liquid chilled his mouth and then began to ravage his throat as Charles chugged the potion, eyeballs and all. The initial discomfort was rapidly replaced by a state of intense euphoria. Charles became uncontrollably happy as an enormous smile rose across his face. Then it hit him, a sheer and absolute horror that Charles was only able to withstand by releasing a cacophonous squelch, relinquishing all control of his body, allowing it to plummet to the floor. Charles could feel every inch of his body tingling, and then within a blink of an eye, it was over. The change had finally overtaken him…

A hideous creature was later seen exiting the Laboratory of Wayward Ambitions, hunched and drabbling with uncontrollable mouth drip, and after a few seconds of what looked like mindless meandering, it headed off westward towards the sunset. Month’s later stories were exchanged of a devilish creature that was rumored to prey upon unsupervised children. Until finally, after a collection of village children were found half devoured, a group of men set out and slew the evil that took from them their promised future.

The temptations of the stars were fletcherized in the mind of the young Shepard as she sat mundanely gazing into the darknees overhead. Her sheep slept peacefully at her side while the night slowly twinkled into the early hours of the new day. This was her time, her time away from time, from the busy of the day and the responsibilities that dilute the pleasures of life. And it was in this time that she allowed herself to indulge upon all that evaded her during the day, engrossing upon those pure sensations that release the hidden joys from deep within her mind.

Relaxing in the midst of her flock, she reached for a small knapsack wrapped across her right shoulder, still managing to focus on the group of stars in which she visualized as a young boy and his falcon. She pulled the knapsack with ease around so that it rested upon her abdomen and untied a knot, revealing a collection of white cotton-like fluff. Slowly she selected a piece of the white fluff, approximately the size of a popped popcorn kernel, and placed it within the line of sight of the constellation that she envisioned above. The fluff floated in mid air as she let go. She then reached back inside the knapsack for another piece.

The shepherd continue, piece after piece, until the white fluff completely outlined the young male and his eagle, and as the last piece was placed the two entities materialized into distinctive, white shadows amidst the blackness of space. These shadows floated at an arm’s length above her face, providing the body mass in which this constellations originally lacked.

As she stared, admiring her work, the eagle’s wings began to rise and fall. Lifting up from its perch in the midnight sky, the eagle took flight and hastily encircled the young boy. One of the arms, belonging to this boy, became outstretched and the eagle perched safely upon his warm welcome of friendship and trust. Rotating around, the boy pointed the eagle in the opposite direction, towards the moon, and then the eagle took flight once more.

The young shepherd lay peacefully watching the boy and his eagle until she could no longer resist the increasing weight of her eyelids. Through the remainder of the night, she slept undisturbed as the boy and his eagle danced above, until the restlessness of her flock jostled her from her encumbering slumber. And when she awoke, she quietly sought out her dancing shadows but all she found were pieces of fluff spewed about her body and the surrounding grass. She quickly collected all the scattered pieces and secured them into her knapsack, grabbed her staff and began the descent down the hillside, flock in tow.

D.P. Johns

Copyright © 2011