How Many People Are There In This Room?
Masha sat down at the table and immediately asked me that.
In the restaurant, I peered about. Two o'clock in the morning hit. Most of the space was deserted.
"Can you explain?"
Just how many persons are now inside this place? "Aside from us," she remarked.
"Perhaps five or six," I responded.
Masha was visibly shaken. "So, how many people are actually present here?"
She screamed in terror.
I tallied. Two young women returning after a night of pancake-fueled revelry, an elderly man gazing into a bowl of soup at the door, a man sporting a ballcap attempting to sever his overdone steak, and a middle-aged woman clad in a pea-green jacket completed the tableau.
My answer was six. The number is six.
As soon as Masha felt calm, she let her guard down. "I am grateful."
For the past five months, Masha and I had avoided one other. During the summer, I returned home from school out of state. Tragically, Masha's sister Bella passed away in a vehicle accident only two weeks before she left for college, despite her acceptance to a prestigious institution. Death was a heavy blow for her. Hard as nails.
I had no idea why she had contacted me. Neither catching up nor going out partying were on the agenda. I refrained from everything, and Masha knew it. Knowing the hereditary odds and growing up with verbally abusive drinkers led me to that conclusion.
Looking unruly was Masha. Not drained, but philosophically weary. Her tattooed forearms were mottled with bruises, and her neck had some peculiar scarification signs in addition to the scars on her hands. Two of them appeared awkwardly turned around, as if they had been done in a mirror.
About thirty minutes before to my arrival, Carey, Masha's companion, had dropped her off at the diner. Even though my familiarity with him was limited, my opinion of him was negative.
I was wondering how you were doing. "Excuse me?" I inquired.
Masha remained silent.
After a wary inspection, Masha placed her order for black coffee and blueberry pie as the server came over.
I ordered hot tea and fries even though I wasn't really hungry.
After a few minutes of awkward quiet, Masha looked down at her hands and said, "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"
"I lied to people," I shrugged and told them. Lieted in order to avoid responsibility. Most of the time, it was to my high school pals. However, I've evolved. Those days are over for me. I previously committed shoplifting as well. Those socks.
Masha chuckled.
The server returned with our dinner and beverages at that point. She leaped. She seemed confused. Face reddening. Everyone else in the restaurant just stared about aimlessly.
"Are you okay?" Curious, the waiter inquired.
Masha sat back down gently, taking a long breath.
"Yeah, my apologies," she gushed. "It has been an exhausting night."
After setting the items down, the server shook his head in disapproval. As he departed, Masha took a drink of her coffee before casting a teary glance over the mug and towards me.
"I committed the gravest sin imaginable. I nearly took someone's life.
It was unclear to me if I had understood her.
"What do you mean?"
Masha looked at me intently as she nodded. A person who jogs.Carey and I rammed the vehicle into him.
"My goodness. When was this done—"
"I am getting here."
My face was drenched with blood.
"The police need to be notified. He may be present, injured, and—"
They returned to see how he was doing, so there's no need to worry, she cut in. No one was jogging.
“What on earth does that mean?”
I felt my composure slipping away.
"Please, don't begin to play games with me," I pleaded. "This kind of nonsense is not something I want to hear."
"Isn’t it ridiculous?" Masha responded. Just ask Carey.
I was hesitant to give Carey a call.
"I didn't really see the jogger," Masha stated.Even Carey did. That's how I learned it. I then demanded to know the man's precise location, seized the wheel, and slammed the car into the man, all while Carey yelled at me. Knocked him out. So that was important.Carey slammed on the brakes. His outbursts of going to jail and his life coming to an end showed that he was completely lost. Rest assured, I reassured him. He was really irritated by that. He stepped out of the car to go rescue the jogger, but he froze when he saw no one around. A lonely road stretched out before us. It was to my surprise.
In the dim fluorescent light, she examined the blue-tinged tines while poking the crust with her fork, taking another drink of coffee.
"You see, it’s capable of taking on human features. Possible age range. Wearing anything one pleases. It has human-like speech. Consumes food and drink and engages in all the typical human activities. Not very menacing, I know, but here’s the twist: I can’t perceive it. I can’t see this creature that’s trying to pass itself off as a human. Nevertheless, you are able to perceive it, just like everyone else.
"I am completely confused by what you are saying..." Furthermore, I refrained from doing so.
Masha raised her eyes to see my.
"We were tripping two weeks ago. There was this woman named Julie, Carey, and I. The guide was she. This took place on the terrace of Cory's house. We detonated N-Bomb, the synthetic MDMA substance. Attempting to explore an inner mental region, we had been utilising hallucinogens. Entwined, exchanging visual metaphors. The fact that you may essentially travel together if your emotions and minds are in sync is just mind-blowing. Yes, I am aware of the sound. However, it was truly benefiting our situation. Here we were... You would say it's like astral travelling, I suppose. We had imagined this city and its buildings and then investigated them. Beautiful, ever-changing structures made up the bulk of it. Rising like mountain ranges, these structures encircled us. Well, we stumbled across it in this mental metropolis.
The door to the diner chimed as the two young ladies finishing their pancakes departed.
Masha turned around to face me after seeing them leave.
An explanation was unnecessary for me.
Saying, "There are four people in here now," I continued.
After taking another drink of her coffee, she nodded and went on.
In any case, we ventured farther into the city than we had previously that evening. Finally, we reached a tower. Featured a helical staircase. On the upper level, we discovered a closed door—
"Are you all perceiving the identical object?" Disillusioned by the whole thing, I cut in.
"Yes," Masha's demeanour had grown more intense, and her trembling had subsided. "Everyone here saw it.
"Very well."
We reach this door, then. A metal door, that is. Punched, but not on the outside. Standing firm. It felt as if someone were attempting to kick the door down.Julie, she succumbed to fear. Warned us about opening that door. Avoid it at all costs. On the other side, she claimed to have seen a traveller.
Are you asking, "Voyager?"
It was what Julie referred to it as. She was familiar with the types of structures we were investigating because she was a guide. Similar doors have been spotted by her before. Concerning the voyagers, she had also received warnings. They were like us, she said, exploring inner space from a different world. From a different one. Quite a mess. I opened the door, nevertheless, to cut a long tale short.
I asked, "Why would you do that?"
Masha paused to mix her coffee, briefly absorbed in contemplation.
One of the chefs emerged from the kitchen and took a seat at the counter while she did this. He glanced across at me as he skimmed a dropped newspaper. He smiled slightly and nodded. I was curious if he had prepared the fries that I choose not to eat.
Masha said, her gaze fixed on her drink, "I heard a voice on the other side of the door after Carey and Julie drifted gone. I could hear my sister's voice. She begged for help. Beseeching me to release her. She was the one, I promise. "Alright," I pushed open the metal door.
As I ate a couple fries, I could feel the chef's intense gaze on me. They were damp and chilly.
"What transpired?" "What do you think?" I inquired of Masha.
Something unexpectedly slipped by me when I opened it. Something chilly and damp. For a moment, it moved me. Agony was felt. Subconsciously, Masha pointed to the Z marks on her neck and went on. In any case, the other side of the door did not include a room. An empty space. A profound void. I could feel a shift the moment the journey ended. A sense of being seen washed over me. Something followed me the whole remainder of that night, the next day, and the entire week that followed. A phantom. Being there. And I knew, in my heart of hearts, that I would die if it reached me again.
Her knife continued slicing into her pie. After cracking up the crust, a small avalanche of jelly will release the congealed blueberries.
"You mentioned that you're unable to perceive this object, Masha."
As soon as the entrance to the eatery swung wide, two guys wearing dungarees and carrying hard hats strode in. Dusted garments. Instantly, Masha stood up straight in her chair.
"Are you saying that two guys entered the diner just now?"
Sure, I gave a little nod. "Indeed, it was only those two men."
Then Masha calmed down.
Asking, "Why me?" "Excuse me?" I inquired. To what end were you hoping to meet? So you're telling me this?
Saliva grinned. She hadn't done it all night until now. Why? Because I had faith you would believe me.
My throat felt very dry, and I had to swallow hard.
Masha swiped away her tears as she said, "You’ve been an amazing friend." When I was a senior in high school, things started to become ugly. I could trust you more than any other lover or jerk. I was the one who was trusted. You were the one who stood with me through thick and thin, supporting me no matter how foolish my actions seemed. A helping hand, a shoulder to cry on.
My hand was seized by her as she extended across the table.
Pursued it. Very careful.
I must admit, I harboured strong feelings for Masha during my time in high school. She was definitely a buddy. I was also friends with someone for a time. I enjoyed being her solid foundation. However, I had always expected more. The friendship started off as a one-sided infatuation, as do most relationships. It is mine. Those emotions persisted despite the fact that it had been six months since I last laid eyes on her. Dormant yet present. Curiously awaiting rousal.
It occurred to me as Masha grinned and grabbed my hand... On the inside of my palm, I could feel her fingernail tracing something. To begin with, a little pressure. Just that it became more acute until
Oh no. Oh no!
Masha had sliced me as I withdrew my hand. Her rough pinkie nail had carved a shape into my flesh. The letter Z was upside down. As the ones that adorn her neck. The little incision started to bleed in a ribbon pattern.
Hey, Masha, what's going on?
Standing up and stepping away from the table, she only shook her head and said, "I'm sorry..." Excuse me... Um, I felt compelled to, alright? Yes, I felt compelled to..."
Had to do what? Damage me? I felt both angry and bewildered.
It seemed like the whole restaurant was staring at us. The only one who got up from his station at the counter and came over was the cook, who was more than happy to provide a help.
To dispel his presence, I just waved him away. No big deal. Everything is in control now.
"*What?*" Masha finally said, her voice barely audible, at that moment.
He was informed that I understood.
She became white. "Who are you—?" Did you inform anyone?
("The chef!"). Furious, I raised my voice. "He's genuinely attempting to assist you."
I can't find a cook! Look, nobody's around!
Masha squatted backwards, crying in terror. She crashed into a table that was close by. A number of chairs toppled over. Cutlery dispersed.
"Nah, no!" exclaimed she. "I can't find anyone!"
As perplexed as I was, I honestly believed the chef was going to assist Masha when he got down on his knees next to her.
Not at all.
He leaned in closer to her instead. It was obvious that she couldn't see him as she sobbed and trembled. Upon turning to face me, the chef grinned sickly before releasing a torrent of blood and exposing his gnawed teeth and mangled gums.
He bit her so severely that he severed her neck.
As Masha's heart raced across the linoleum floor, the chef disappeared. It was a rapid fading. Remaining solid and undiluted. There for a split second and then disappeared.
I believe the pea-green overcoat-wearing woman let out a scream.
After the police arrived, a narrative surfaced. Everyone else in the restaurant that night said that Masha had slashed her own throat. Nobody knew what happened to the knife or where she obtained it.
According to them, the cook had also offered assistance. He made an effort to bandage the wound in the hopes of rescuing her. Following the arrival of the EMTs, the police were unable to locate him. The next day, I returned to the eatery to inquire about what had transpired, and the server asserted that they had never employed a chef with the physical appearance I had described. I beheld a guy.
All the pieces of Masha's death seemed to fall into place once she passed away. It seemed as though the cosmos was erasing her completely.
The explorer, or whatever it is, has finally arrived to claim me.
Masha's death at that diner occurred five days ago.
I have been pursued and accosted for the past five days. Carey escorted me to Julie after I located him. I was informed of my impending doom by her. The mark that Masha cut into my flesh—the backward Zs that were on her neck—is used by voyagers to find their victims, she claims.
It seems that Masha believed she might deceive the traveller into taking me rather than herself.
It was unsuccessful.
She has sealed my fate now.
On bus rides or when strolling down the street, I'm sure I'll eventually encounter an unseen third party.
Here at my parent's house, I am currently in my bedroom.
They are becoming increasingly concerned since I have not departed in forty-eight hours. They're being sympathetic and letting me remain locked up because they heard I lost a buddy, even if they don't remember anybody called Masha from my high school.
But they informed me that I've had guests. People dropping by without prior notice. People who, when I squint my eyes and look out the window, don't appear to be standing on the porch. There was only my mum and dad babbling and waving into the distance.
At some point, I will have to exit this room.
That, or my folks will get really concerned and arrange for someone to take me to the hospital. I want to inquire about the same things that Masha did when I arrive.
Just how many individuals are here at this very moment?
Precisely how many?
