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"How can I become immortal?" was Stevens only thought. He had been fed up with all of the pain and suffering in his life that was accompanied by the title of "Drug Addict and Dealer." Everything besides the thought of immortality went thought one ear and out the other. Steven had NO priorities, NO goals, NOTHING besides this sheer desire. Injecting baby oil mixed with bird DNA and swallowing poisonous herbs were just few of the insane rituals Steven performed on himself.
Dragging his way home from a mundane job as a fry cook at the local Chinese bistro in the inclement, dreary weather, Steven thought to himself "I'm going to figure this out soon. I'm tired of waiting." Turning onto his lonely, rundown culdesac on Hoover Court, Steven saw a candlelight go out in a distant window followed by a terrified look through the glass. Head hanging, Steven moped his way through his cracked glass door into his small kitchen, lit by a flickering plastic chandelier and sat on his secondhand couch, only to look at the gaping blank space in the wall where his TV used to be. Looking around the room at all of the things he used to have, Steven got up with a sigh and went to his bedroom.
Tears falling, Steven sat alone in his run-down shanty, begging to every god imaginable for a solution, when an evil grin reached its way from the corners of his mouth to his ears. A deal with the devil was last on his list of priorities, but home-brewed remedies seemed futile. Hands sweating, he set out the few candles in his possession in the shape of a pentagram, took a knife, and allowed his blood to leak on the chipped concrete, and lit the center candle.
The blood glowed a crimson red, as the entire room began to turn into a shade of Hell. With the ground shaking, a towering dark figure ascended from what Steven thought was miles of dirt and rock. With blazing horns that shimmered with the sorrow of lost souls, the figure let out a blood-curtling screech.
As Steven was stricken by awe and overwhelmed by fear, the spawn beamed at his eyes, but seeing past them into his twisted soul. The monster lifted one finger and pointed with its moldy claw to a piece of paper on a rock that emerged from down below. Steven took his hand and crafted his name in blood. The monster lifted up an arm, and with it a massive cloud of fire raised around the pentagram. As the room returned to its normal state, Steven’s limbs began shaking and he collapsed to the ground, violently convulsing and losing all control of his body. Fatigued, Steven lost consciousness and all thoughts left his mind.
The time was 5:30 in the morning, as the sun came over the clouds, but something was missing from this suburbia. Steven looked out his window to see that the children that were normally playing in the street were not there and no animals were in sight. “They’re always out. Where's the rooster's crow?” Looking around his culdesac, Steven noticed that several houses had missing windows and several chunks were taken out of walls. Frightfully creeping out of his wooden front porch, Steven ventured onto the deathly-looking overgrown grass and took several paces out into the street. Confused, he went back into his house and decided that it must be just a pure coincidence and got ready for work. "Keys, check. Uniform, check. Wallet, check." Everything was where it should be, except one thing was off. The clock still read 5:30. "This is impossible!" Steven thought. He had been up for at least 30 minutes! Disregarding the seemingly broken clock, Steven walked outside into his time-worn 1987 Pontiac and started it.
The street was vacant. Nobody driving, nobody walking, nothing except for a few abandoned vehicles. Steven pulled into the parking lot of Royal Dragon, the Chinese restaurant he fried at. Nobody was there to open it up, so Steven had to; this was the norm of this ex-family owned Chinese restaurant.The last member of the family had died two months after Steven had came on board. The key fit perfectly in the lock and the door slid open while Steven went to clock in. He placed his card in the slot and pushed the button. The card read "6:66". Steven's eyes dashed over to the clock. It read 5:30. Consumed by madness, Steven ran outside, to see that it was already was already pitch-black outside.
The car wouldn't start. The tank read "full" but the car wouldn't start. He popped the hood and everything checked out fine. The old Pontiac still wouldn't make a single noise. Flustered, Steven took a cigarette out of his pocket along with a brand-new lighter. Not even a spark. Testing all of his lighters, Steven came to realize that not a single one would spark. Nothing would catch fire. Head hanging low, he sulked home in the deathly cold air.
Turning onto the street that connects to his culdesac, he had no clear sight of his house. He saw houses on both sides, but not his. Steven's strides turned from a walk to a frantic run. His house was gone. There was nothing. No ground, no dirt, nothing besides a seemingly bottomless hole of darkness. "If I'm immortal..." thought Steven, "I should be able to jump down here." So he took a leap of faith.
Steven woke up in a room full of white. Nothing was there, except for him and the walls. He thought to himself "Where am I?" A voice was heard in the distance that sounded all too familiar saying the same thing. A young woman, with smooth skin and a friendly appearance, approached Steven from seemingly nowhere. "Hello, son." were the words that slipped off of her lips. The distant voice echoed "This is impossible. Mom died months ago!" as Steven said "M.. m... mom?" The old woman, coughing, calmly said "Yes, Steven, I am your mother and I am dead. And you are inside your mind. Nothing here is bound to anything, and thought is just another way of communicating. This is just you and your mind. Nothing else." A gasp was heard in the distance. "Then why can't I hear your thoughts?" The woman quietly said "Because I am not real. I am nothing but a figment of your imagination; a mere memory of your past. Here, there are no laws of physics, no civil law, and no restrictions." Steven and the voice simultaneously yelped "Why am I here?" The woman, appearing to know everything about Steven, spoke lovingly and caringly, "Y..u're... h...re....be...se..." She faded away into nothingness, as the white turned into a familiar scene.
A little boy walked around the street corner with his mother. "Mommy, you'll never guess what John did to Sarah in class today!" The mother, looking very similar to the woman Steven talked to, said "What did he do?" "Well..." A car, speeding down the street was heard and seen, the license plate read "MTC 3NR" Steven screamed "MOM!" and ran full speed to the blazing car. But the closer he got to her, the further she got away from him. Several gunshots were heard, and all that was seen was a crying boy and a woman laying on the ground with a puddle of blood surrounding her. The car was gone and the room turned back to white. Steven was left on the floor, crying to himself and biting his tongue. He recognized the taste of blood in his mouth but he felt no pain. He took out his pocket knife and drove it through his leg. Still no pain. He took his knife and placed the blade inside of his heart. He felt no pain. Steven let out a cry of sorrow.
Steven found himself laying in the middle of his culdesac once again, and thought to himself, "where am I?" No voice was heard in the distance, and the hole Steven thought he jumped down was no longer there. His house was back. He walked in to see the hands on the clock pointing halfway past the five, and the broken minute hand looked towards the six. Thinking to himself "I must still be immortal", Steven took out his pocket knife and drove it through his chest. As the clock chimed, children's laughter was heard the as the morning rooster crowed.