*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2005841-FUTUREAL
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #2005841
Marcus Edge is a Heavy Metal singer who has everything but looses it all.is it a dream?
Intense colourless apparitions that were imbedded, deep within the core of my subliminal cortex, took me on a hell raising nightmare, every night.

As I lose conciseness to the dream world, the visions arise and these ghastly surroundings propel my heart rate, into over drive. My senses become impaired and the horrors bind me into a surreal deception. 

The phantoms who control this distorted abyss of infinite possibilities, gives me an altered traumatic state, whenever I close my retinas. The vile frightening sensations abruptly erupt through my brain stem; this awakens me with a jolt, in to the real world. There I discover myself utterly exhausted and covered head to toe in sweat. 

Today was like any other for I Marcus Edge; aka, The Tattoo. The greatest Heavy Metal singer on the planet, who fronted the biggest band called; Attitude. I awoke from my deep slumber with hundreds of beer cans and several bottles of Vodka, plus Jack Daniels that were scattered around the luxury penthouse hotel room. I felt queasy and rancid and all I wanted to do was climb back under the bed covers, but my stomach churned. So I dived to my on sweet bathroom, where I vomited into my expensive lavatory. 

After cleaning my mess and showering I felt right with the world again, so I put on my custom made Iron Maiden T shirt and some black skin tight Lee Cooper jeans. I went to cook my first English breakfast, with being a 21 year old American I had never experienced this food and been to London before. The band had been headlining a extra large heavy metal festival near Birmingham and we and the crowd were a flame with the energy, which rocked the whole night. After the gig we hit the city lights and parted hard into the small hours.

My brain throbbed and began to feel like a rocket had exploded inside my scull, when a hangover suddenly appeared ,and some memories of the night before came smashing right threw my eyes. I had picked up 10 groupies and raced around the English capital in a pink limonene, stopping at every nightclub in the city. The band had ditched me hours before and returned to our hotel; so I was on my own with 10 semi naked women and heading for my penthouse suite, on the 30th floor. I could barely see and it took 5 women on each arm, to load me into the elevator. While inside, they persisted in serenading me with my own music and kept supplying me with strong alcoholic drinks.

We entered my lavish pad, where the girls began stripping and hurling beer and chocolate over me, each other and the posh hotel room. All I remember next was that these young drunken women heaved me onto my lavish bed, now I could hear them scream, "Marcus take us all to the brink and then have us!" After several hours I must have blacked out from exhaustion and too much booze for when I awoke, I noticed all the  girls must of vacated the building, as these party animals had vanished.

Before I could extract further crazy antics from twisted mind, the door to my room exploded wide open with a huge kick. My finance bolted inside like a wild animal, and ready to thrash someone within an inch of their lives. What was Jenny, my only true love doing here, from Loss Angeles? Did the other guys in the band tell on me and reveal the rat I truly am? Within a nanosecond all the unscrupulous conduct raced back inside my warped brain and I realised how deceitful I'd been. I'd spent the night with all my band mate's girlfriends and their friends too. My wife to be had every right to be enraged and ready to kill, for I'd treated her with disrespect, and acted like some cheap whore. The woman of my dreams pushed her face right up to mine and screamed into my ears,

"I know your some larger than life rock god, Marcus Edge, but shitting on not just me, but your buddies too? Young and in the spot light, doesn't give you the excuse to go around acting like some wiled stallion and think it's the norm. You must realise you've destroyed your entire life, for an orgy with some loose women and vile alcohol; I hope it was worth it. No one messes with my heart and walks free, I'm leaving you and the band told me your history, so all you have are your toxic self and that lethal poison which messed with your head."

I was in utter shame and wanted the world to swallow me up, when all the depraved woman climbed from under my bed and shouted," Don't listen to her Marcus, come back to bed, besides you're the most hansom member of Attitude and you've done nothing wrong, except have great fun"

I looked deep into Jenny's eyes and showed her the absolute shame I caused her, and then ran out of the building in total panic and disbelief. I knew that I could be insensitive sometimes, but never a treacherous fool. I couldn't face anyone and ran into the nearest bar and began to drink the pub dry and hide away my sins. I then grasped at what my school girl sweat heart had informed me of, it was probably in my nature to cheat on her, but the beer and stronger venomous substances had given me a lethal effect upon my actions. I put down my beer, walked out the devils horns pub and wandered around in a daze for hours, searching for answers on how to fix all my problems. All that came to mind was that I'd have to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness and hope that my friends and loved one would see that it was all a stupid drunken error. Except it would never be enough, I'd crossed the line and betrayed all the people I cared about, just for some thrills.

I found myself sat on a bench underneath the London eye consoling myself and hiding my shameful face in my hands, when I decided to ride the city's millennium's wheel ,and hope that would give an insight into resolving my problems, and show that I am truly sorry for my actions. I moved to the entrance and asked the attendant for one ride, he gave me a ticket and I sat down in the large glass dome. I reached the top after only a few minutes, where it left me hovering for what seemed like hours. My whole world slowed and could see every building and person in the oldest city on earth. I watched ordinary people going about their daily business and looking happy and content. I suddenly understood I'd had everything and blew it away in an instant; my dreams had come true, for I'd formed a band and became famous. Yet I'd turned into someone else! A selfish monster, who didn't care for anyone and wanted to be no 1. I knew exactly what my next actions would be, I had to tell the world of my horrific deeds and hoped they could all forgive me. Though now it came to me that things happen for a reason, I'd not meant to be in the music business and had to find happiness some ware else, if I deserved it.

I felt clear headed for the first time in my life, but still ashamed at my selfish actions. I knew others would say I'd been celebrating the greatest concert of our lives and over indulged on woman and wine. My fans would say, "you've worked hard and have to let off steam and had fun, so stop beating yourself up and keep making more awesome rocking music" I however stood on my principals, I couldn't face another fan and have them accuse me of all kinds and look through their critical eyes.

I began to walk back to the hotel and would lay my soul at my band mates and Jenny's feet and ask for their forgiveness and hope this would be enough. But as I approached the exclusive hotel, my friends from Attitude emerged out of thin air and grabbed me, then they jabbed and kicked at me, and ripped my clothes from my weary body. They pushed me into the dirty road and pored stale beer all over me. Beast man, Snake eyes, viper and Metallic head stood over me and thrust their anger into my bruised face. The men I'd grown up with stopped giving me a severe pasting and spoke rancid exchanges at me, "The devil made you week brother, once his evil liquor passed your lips. You pluck at our heat strings and receive our rapture. From a Metal God to a vagabond ,left in the gutter. Farewell fiend, leaving you indefinitely with your impurity and hope it was worth it." The people I had a great bond with and created majestic compositions, booted a dirty puddle at me and then turned their backs upon me, leaving me in the street like some sewer rat.

Laying for what seemed an eternity I gradually arose and then dragged my beaten self towards the nearest building. Naked and freezing, I was traumatized that the best mates I could wish for could induce such depravity upon me, but then I'd been with their loved ones and it was justified and only God could only forgive the malice Id triggered.

Sitting outside a shop window, I grasped at my situation; I had zero to my name and was completely starker's and utterly destitute.

I couldn't remain where I sat; I began to force myself up, as I didn't want to frighten anybody with my gross and wounded body. So I sprinted to the nearest garden and guiltily took some men's jeans and shirt. I had no conception to my next action, so i hid inside a random broken down shed. I was astounded at that my life had come down to this, after having all my hearts desires; as my idol Alice Cooper sings, "careful what you're wishing for, it might bite you on the ass." Things looked ugly, but I couldn't feel sorry for myself, for it was my wrong doings that had caused this predicament. I gazed around my new abode wondering how I'd gotten here and what could be done to change my consequences? Quite unexpected I saw from the wooden outbuildings the sky hard grown dark as night and a rumbling sound in the distance. Now my biggest fear in the world prevailed outside and I could feel my entire body shake. It was thunder, lightening and heavy rain was poised to strike me down, and drown me like a dog that I'd become. Could this day get any worse? Before the heavens unleashed their wrath, I prevailed in my anxiety, taking a huge intake of air and then sprinted back into the city. I wanted to, at least find shelter and save myself, even if I didn't deserve it. As I left the shed there was a piercing bang and I fell to the floor. Next the evil wet stuff ascended, so I found the will of a billion mammoths and pushed forward.

I found the  London underground and some toilets. I hid like a little girl in a cubical until the depravity had persisted. My heart was pounding, as every bolt of thunder, fork of lightening and down pour lingered. I had to be a man and fight my irrational thoughts of impending doom. May be it was a conviction from heaven and God was judging me on Earth.

I took a leak and then splashed water upon my face, but dried it quickly as it reminded me of the uproar that persisted on the street. I closed my eyes and thought happy memories; Attitudes first concert and our first vacation to a tropical island, that was a month of paradise. My emotional state slowly diminished and a very small tear glided down my face.  For the first time in several hours, I felt relief and things were becoming calmer; yet my guilt still weighed heavy on my being. I had to start again and was shore my brother, Maximus that lived in Tokyo, would come through for me and see that my intentions weren't completely sinful. But I had no money, so how could I make some quickly?  A mega light beemed quickly inside my head, what profession had I undertaken before I'd been immoral? A singer and that's how I'd earn my supper and a direct phone call to Japan.

I headed side into now extraordinary gorgeous blue skies, at five o'clock rush hour. "Perfect", I thought, plenty of citizens walking from their offices to get home. I walked to the famous Trafalgar square and began to sing, I'd forgotten how awesome a feeling it was to be creative and passionate. People from all walks of life went past me. Some shrieked, while others ignored me and one even screamed at me, to shut up and leave. There were a few good folk who smiled and gave a donation. Except by six o'clock my voice and throat had dried out, so I ceased and picked up my lose change, and then headed towards the nearest bench, to rest and count how much I'd earned? As I rested I again became distraught, for the measly offering in my hand that I had sung my heart out for, was a hopeless seventy five pence.

Now I became in despair and miserable, the phones in the English capital were over a pound to use, and it would be midnight before I obtained such an amount. I stayed on the hard wooden seat listening to my thoughts, and seeing my present and future dwindle into obscurity. In the next moment I became enraged with my status quo that I had caused, so I picked myself up and searched for the nearest liquor store and would douse my sorrows in more devil juice. Entering the premises I gazed around and saw no customers and the proprietor must have been in the back, as the shop was empty. I sized my moment and picked up a chocolate bar and threw my change down on the counter and went, but not before absconding with a bottle of  Iron Maiden's; Trooper ale.

From behind the counter a huge rifle was pointing at my head, I was poised out the door and then bang. The nasty shopkeeper pulled the trigger and put a whole as big as the grand canyon into my chest. I could feel the cold blood oozing from my numb frame. I drank the ale and ran off at a two hundred miles per hour. I continued until the scary man and his store had vanished. I looked out the corner of my eye and could see the terrifying six foot nine inches tall man, chasing me with his alarming weapon. I had to hide and try and stop the fluid from pumping out my wounded torso. I pressed my hand firmly on the wound and shot off like a man possessed. I discovered a block of flats and knew I'd have several places to be concealed. Pushing through the entrance, I could hear loud noises, and then bravely I turned and saw the psychopath, so I darted upstairs. There weren't any hiding places and I had little time to bang on a strangers door and ask for help. I kept climbing the stairs, not really having an idea to my destination, and hoping that this vicious man had become breathless and stopped.

Now I found myself at the door to the rooftop, but I halted to hear and stamping feet coming up behind me, instantly the man who'd shot me was right there and waving the firearm around again. I shouted, "Sorry I didn't mean to steal the Iron Maiden beer, but I've had the day from hell and although it was my fault, I needed something I liked, to take my mind off my endless problems. Please forgive me and I will pay you back." The London shop owner just laughed and bellowed," Your problems don't concern me robber. Nobody steals from Jake Gears and gets off lightly, get your hands raised boy and pray to your maker." I darted out onto the rooftop, and hoped there was a quick escape route. I could only see the flat concrete floor. The nasty man emerged, so I just kept running around trying to think of a solution. WHEN boom; Jake had fired the trigger once more and the bullet was headed for my head. It was the end and no way out, I could let the bullet strike me or jump off the roof, and then it would be my choice and not those of a crazed lunatic. I didn't see much choice and closed my eyes and jumped, aw the sensation from falling was catastrophic and the noise from the speed I feel, it was defining. I was in excursing pain and scared beyond my comprehension. As this was it, I shouted to all those I'd wronged to forgive me and kept my eyes tightly shut. I wept as the ground got closer and wished I'd never got drunk and gone with my band mate's girlfriends. 

The roaring blurred at my senses and I felt like my body was ripping in two, I prayed for any miracle and hoped God was a merciful Lord! This couldn't be it surely? I had been; The Tattoo, in the greatest heavy metal band of the 21 first century, and fans all over the globe adored me and the music I'd created with my band mates. Now I was about to meet my maker in the rock n roll hall of fame, I hoped the guys and Jenny would  absolve me of my wrongdoings, towards them. Now it seemed a never ending roller coaster and a demon from hell was in the driving seat.

As my drained body hit the hard London street at 651pm a bizarre sensation consumed my absolute being. When I thought I'd be singing with Elvis and Jim Morrison in heaven, if they let me in. I found I was in some tiny room with wires sticking out my head and body and computers all around me. What the heck was going on? Had the whole experience been some weird nasty drug infested trip? I began to hear voices of which I had no identity. I pulled the cables off me and jumped from the bed. The voices got louder and ran to my side. They looked like doctors in white coats but had no stethoscopes, a short woman spoke softly," Welcome back to reality Mr Edward." I was confused and getting palpitations, for I had no idea of this place and the people. I shouted at these boffins," For goodness sake tell me of this existence? I was just falling from a block of flats in London and presumed I was ending up in heaven.

The doctors calmed me down and gave me a strong coffee and tried to explain my situation. They said this was called; Dreams incorporated and people went there when experiencing strong nightmares and they would pull them out, like the myth of a Native American dream catcher. I had been suffering with wicked dreams since birth and this was the last hope for me. I however had suffered a desperate state, for I had gotten stuck within the dream world and been having recurring nightmares for three years.

Once my memories had returned and the doctors had checked me over, they said I could go and promised a full endorsement of money for my prolonged suffering. I gathered my belongings together that I'd taken to this dream company, which was situated a few thousand miles away in South Africa. I had discovered that my name was Bruce Edward and I was a Londoner, but I not a big star, I owned a record shop. I had a wife; Tina Spencer and two awesome children; Adrian 9 and Sophia 3, who I loved very much.

Before I left the institute of dreams, where I'd been locked in deep sleep, for three years, I thanked the doctors for their 24 hours a day care. I had no malice towards these people, as I had gone to the organisation of my own free will. I had received shear bad luck and the dream machine had induced me into a coma. It had been me who had to kick start my brain, so I could awaken into the real world.

I exited the building and suddenly began to think, " What surreal intense nightmares had I been running away from, if the ones where I had been Marcus Edge, aka; The Tattoo, had been in my subconscious after I'd attended the bad dream removal company? After what had seen like an eternity, I was now free from the hellish purgatory and I stood outside the building, looking at my beautiful and amazing family. They had bright smiles upon their faces and when they saw me, raced towards me and gave me a huge embrace. I kissed them all and apologised for my absence, plus getting stuck in my nightmares. My wife of ten years whispered to me, with her gentile voice," You're here now and that's what matters." I kissed her tranquil lips and stood for a few minutes to take in her beauty and my actual surroundings , while my children fastened themselves into our family car.

I turned to the real love of my life and smiled at her, then said," my darling would you pinch me please? I want this to be my reality and not that inhumane and demonic nightmare realm that i'd been trapped in. Tina pulled me so close that her perfume wafted up my nose, she then gave me a passionate French kiss and five minutes later said, "Is that real enough for you Bruce? Don't worry my handsome man; you are very much in the land of the living."

I felt the car keys in my ordinary jeans,  so I could start the large people carrier, and go to my real home. Before I put my foot on the gas, I obtained more feelings of doubt, I thought to myself," Can I believe what I see and hear?" "Do I feel the phantoms in my psyche, kidding around with my reality? Tell me now! What is real? Please make my future real!         





© Copyright 2014 Lee Greatrex (attitude37 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2005841-FUTUREAL