Darkness surrounds me. Warm, comforting. I feel as if I'm in the womb again. Being fed nutrients and life by a mother I can't remember. I cannot see myself, but I know instinctively that my body has pulled itself into a fetal position.
My name is Phil Smith, and I. . .I don't know who I am.
It is at that this point that my monologue is interrupted as two
hands rip into the darkness, separating it, as though it were a
theater curtain, and he were the star, coming onstage again for his final bow. And he just might be. Psi's astral form is much younger, and bulkier than his physical one. As though an image of himself when he were younger.
"There you are, Philsy. I thought I'd lost you within your own
mind." Psi mock pouted. "Aren't I being good enough company for you?"
"Actually, I'd rather be with my friends. . ." Phil's eyes began to
crackle as his thoughts took form and projects of the other
Vanguardians rose up from the ground, surrounding his foe. "Well played, Smith. And here I was beginning to grow bored with you."
Psi began to fight against the Vanguard constructs, his mental
abilities seeming to grow stronger. Phil watched, anxiously, his
doubts growing.
"Hey, hon, this way!" Phil's head turned, surprised. "Whaa--?!"
The form that greeted him was both welcome and a surprise. "Leslie?! What are you doing here? How can you be here?"
"I'm not." She said, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into a dark alleyway, that resembled the slums of New York. "I'm a mental construct created by your subconscious mind."
"Unconscious mind." Phil began to remind her.
"Whatever, dammit, we don't have time for this! He's following us!"
"C'mon, Philsie, let's play!" Psi screamed, as he cut down a
projection of Grissom Montag, followed by one of Priest.
"He's killing them!" Phil screamed as Leslie tried to move him to safety inside one of the empty apartments. "They're not real,
Phil!" Leslie screamed, locking and bolting the door.
"Maybe not, but it's hurting me just the same." Phil gripped his
stomach as a pool of blood began to appear on his designer shirt.
"Oh." Leslie put a hand to her face as she saw the blood.
Psi ripped through a projection of Grimm with a mental blast as he began to ascend through the floors of the apartment building, passing upwards through them like a ghost. "You can't hide from me, Philip! Haven't you realized that by now?"
"I hate it when people call me that!" Phil shouted, Leslie
frantically trying to get his attention. As she pulled him to her,
he stopped struggling. "What?"
"We don't have much time." She said, as her lips began to brush up against his. They embraced, and shared a long, passionate kiss. Pulling away from him, she began to fade into nothingness. "I have to go n-" She said, vanishing.
Phil's body began to tremble, he wanted to scream, to lash out
against something. Anything. Everything.
The door exploded inwards, slamming into Phil and knocking him backwards onto the floor. He skidded across the apartment, stopping only when colliding with a tacky, green couch. "I'll never complain about mismatched furniture again. . ." he thought to himself.
"Now, where were we?" Psi asked, as he strode into the room,
confidently, hands folded behind his back in an almost military style formation. "Oh, yes, I was going to devour your mind and kill you."
Psi stood above Phil's form. Looming above him, he began to smile menacingly. He raised his hands, as pure mental power began to radiate from them. As he moved in towards Phil, something else caught his attention. "Eh? What's this? Hiding something from me, are you?" In the far corner of the room appeared to be a massive steel door, heavily locked and bolted.
"What thoughts could you be keeping in there, eh? Your girlfriend, perhaps? Maybe I should desecrate her in front of you before I finish you off?" Psi began to walk over to the door.
"NO!" Phil screamed, still to weak to move. He tried to struggle, to move, but massive black chains now held him to the floor. "Stay. Good dog." Psi commanded. "Now let's see, what if I. . ." Psi put his hands within the lock and began moving them around inside of it.
"Oh, yes, and what if I. . .yes, that's it. . . a little more to the
right and. . .YES!" The door began to move open, it's weight causing it to squeak loudly on it's hinges. "Come on, come on, I want to be done with this!" Psi rubbed his hands impatiently, then grabbed the door and began pulling it open to see. . .
Phil Smith. Multiple Phil Smiths, to be exact. Various Phils of all shapes and sizes. Fat Phil. Skinny Phil. Tall Phil. Short Phil. Four armed Phil. Dead Phil. Winged Phil. Reptile Phil. Rocket Racer Phil. Super Phil. Robot Phil. Cowboy Phil. Military Phil. Even female, dog, and cat variations of Phil.
Psi looked upon the multitude of Phils and began to scream. The Phils surged outwards of the door, grabbing and clawing at Psi's shrieking astral body. The Phils dogpiled upon Psi's form, as the doorway began to fall over upon them all, before finally dropping upon them, the door slamming shut behind them.
As the door slammed shut, Phil blinked his eyes. Once, twice.
Several times. He was back in the real world. He began to fall
over, reaching a hand against the wall to steady himself. "Whoah. . .I don't even want to know what all that was
about. . ." Phil put his other hand up to his forehead. He had a
pounding headache.
He looked over and saw Psi's actual body. His head was now propped over to one side. Drool leaked out from one corner of his open mouth, forever frozen in the scream Phil saw in the astral world. Psi wasn't moving. "Braindead." Phil said to himself before slumping against the wall and sliding down to the floor.
"Just gonna rest here for a bit." He managed to say before passing out.
