Colorshock
Color surfaced in Jack’s consciousness.
The first thing that came to him was sound—the rumble of far away cars, the whistle of the wind, the bustle of busy streets—and dully he felt these sounds, these colors.
Warmth spread through his fingertips. The moment that he felt the hard ground beneath him, pain surged up his spine. Slowly, he moved his fingers. The joints felt rusty and unwilling. Jack could hear his bones creak within.
He slowly realized that he was lying facedown on a concrete sidewalk. Humming filled his ears. In this half-awake stupor, Jack understood that this meant two things—he was somewhere in the Modern Era, and he had slept on the street like a bum.
He searched his memories for an explanation. Nothing. Drunk then, he mused. I must have gotten smashed. But he didn’t have a hangover, just felt like he had dropped from a long way up, and he didn’t recall going to a bar last night…
The humming grew louder.
No, Jack did remember. He went to 1783 with that girl Jess. They did have a few drinks, didn’t they, and then what?
A groan escaped his lips as he shifted around on the ground. His cheek was squished against the sidewalk, and he was still too weak to get up.
We went downstairs, to the Punk Underground, and then where? He thought. I remember a room full of white, a small white room…
As Jack tried to remember the events of the night before, the feeling grew in his gut that something was not right. What am I missing? Sirens were going off in his head.
And that’s when Jack realized that there was no humming. On his closed eyelids there was a reddish, purple glow. He squinted in confusion, and the colors grew darker. He stared at the back of his eyelids, perplexed and mesmerized by these colors that had sprung up, seemingly from nowhere.
Slowly, he opened his eyes a fraction. Sleepy water blurred his vision, but he could still make out the grey concrete. He opened them a bit more--
He saw a blur of green in front of his eyes and jerked in shock.
He saw solid color twitch in the corner of his vision.
He made to rub his eyes but the color invaded everything.
He yelped, a symphony of color hitting his ears.
Jack opened his eyes.
And the world screamed at him.
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Click. Twitch turned the lock, and sliding down the now-closed door he sighed, face knitted in pain, thankful to finally be alone. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling.
Tracing the snaking path of pipes above him with bright green eyes, he reached into the inner pocked of his jacket and pulled out a small, clear vial. He held it up before his eyes, and watched the iridescent liquid swim, light up in the flicker of a dying lamp and change color, swirling about endlessly. Colorshock. The chakra chi energy that was gathered from winter’s aurora. The soul-juice that could open a man’s third eye with a flash of blinding light and show him the mysteries of this world and the next… or drive him straight from Ajna to Muladhara, ripping his Sahasrara from reality. The line between enlightened and insane was riddled with colors.
He licked his lips.
Out from his pocket came a syringe. He filled it to the brim with the colorfull drug, licking the drop that bubbled at the tip of the needle. It burned his rainbow-spotted tongue with blue and yellow. He grimaced— it was a bad habit, his only vice. Twitch rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, up past the elbow. His hand began to shake.
“Come on,” Twitch muttered as the whole right side of his body clenched with small spasms. He gritted his teeth against the taste of blood and long-past memories. “Not now!”
He pressed the needle through skin, and his whole body shocked with color.
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The music blinded Jack’s ears—– the whole world played a screeching symphony of every color imaginable, every color Jack had ever seen, and all of it was so vivid and terrible, its beauty undeniable and shocking. It burned his ears, his eyes felt like they were bleeding and he scratched at them, curling into himself with sobs of laughter and wonder.
His vision blurred with the tears, and the world swayed. The music was deafening-- it was like every song Jack had ever heard blasted together from all sides at once, all in different temp and key and hue… and yet all of it fit together perfectly somehow, and somewhere deep inside him a voice called through the chaos in his mind: this just feels right.
Jack wiped the tears from his eyes, still shaking violently, and stared down at his hands. He turned them over and over, looking in wonder at the rainbow splotches of color on his skin.
But it was more than just color. What Jack was seeing was far more real, far more solid than any music he had ever played. It didn’t swim around in the air before him, but was plastered to his skin, to the ground, to the world, as though everything had been painted--
Images of black and white portraits came up in his mind, and he felt a growl of uneasiness.
Through the static in his mind, he heard a memory so far away…
But light isn’t color.
Not here, it isn’t.
A wave of realization hit him. His mind was a victim to this new world, the colors violated his eyes, the music abused his ears, and he tuned in and out of understanding and pure awe. For a moment he was looking at an abyss of color, and then he clearly saw an Era unlike any he had seen before. The buildings towered above, and seemed to touch the bright blue sky. Gold and green glittered across the glass windows, brilliant blue lights hung from the skyscraper façade, shining rods of light twisted like a snake to form an illuminated sign—– he finally understood the true meaning of neon.
He looked up and saw twisting pipelines and jutting pathways connecting the towering structures, hundreds, if not thousands of feet above. Some of the structures were perfectly shaped and shining white, but closer to the ground it looked as if the seed of technology had taken root. Vines of wire, pipes, beeping and flashing lights had overgrown the alleyways and up the sides of buildings, a teeming thicket of chrome machinery. Even further above, he saw shining specks speeding across the sky.
Even in his daze, Jack was aware that he was no longer alone. He was enthralled by this new world, blinded by the beauty of the color that crept into his heart and struck a chord. Jack turned to gaze upon the new wonders of these moving colors, these fully fleshed people with pale pink, gold, and brown skin with the slightest tint of solemn blue around them. Were they yelling at him? Their words were just another wave of color.
Jack smiled. “Color… this world… so much color…” Jack spluttered out the color in his lungs. The figures of color approached him, and he could almost make out the features in their faces— the way shadows cast dark colors upon their skin. They shouted light at him.
He finally registered what was happening when he felt a boot collide with his side. More blows fell upon him, and a new blue that wound pain around his legs. Colors shattered his vision. As agony hit him full force, exploding with bright white-blue in his mind, Jack realized that he was far, far away from the world he knew.