Killing Time OST – 15b – iPlay Brain Surgeon

<< 15a – iPlay Brain Surgeon

Lorelei woke up on the third day. Or so would I rather call her trashing and screaming as it sounded a lot more hopeful than the actual scene. She panicked about not recognizing her bedroom though she knew we made her a temporary one in the basement so I could watch over her and maintain our ‘out on vacation’ cover.
I had to wrestle her to the ground to keep her from going upstairs – which turned out to be easy since her coordination was a wreck. She cursed and tried to hit me while simultaneously arguing she was perfectly fine.
“Yeah, your four year-olds’ behavior proves that,” I barked back. “You’ll be fine when I say so and not a second earlier.”
She looked at me, wide-eyed and fuming, and finally decided to give me the silent treatment. She headed for her room, taking a potshot at Frogster as she walked past him. She missed him and fumbled backward into my arms.
“Depth perception is a problem,” she said after turning around, her face an inch away from mine at the most.
Then she burst in hysterical laughter.
I picked her up and carried her to her bed while she singsang about a woman locked in a tower, yearning for a man riding by as she weaved. Lorelei was asleep again by the time I pulled the covers around her.
Great. As if an emotional Lorelei wasn’t scary enough, her body really went to extreme in an attempt to find the balance nanobots screwed up. She’d be unpredictable for a good amount of time. She might even remain crazy for life.
But I knew that would happen too.
The neurochemicals’ roller coaster affected every single aspect of Lorelei’s life; appetite, sleep patterns, concentration, moods, urges and whatnots. I helped balance the worst of it with various injections but the next weeks proved full of surprises – and not all of them were pleasant.
I woke up one morning to find Lorelei curled up against me, all peacefully sleeping and naked. Half asleep, I smiled and pushed a strand of hair away to plant a kiss on her neck.
But this wasn’t a dream and it sure as hell wasn’t right.
I stumbled out of bed, my elbow hitting the nightstand which caused my lamp to shatter on the ground, my body to complain from the pain, and Lorelei to leave the room wrapped in my linens, blushing and apologizing.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she yelled from the door leading to the lab.
That was one of the good days.
I soon realized Lorelei was completely obsessed with the idea that music was the only thing actually belonging to her true self. The doorway to her soul. One night out of two – thanks to her messed up sleeping pattern –, Lorelei did some soul searching which amounted to playing music in the lab at a deafening volume. The first time, it was some death metal band.
“I want to see if the anger is mine,” Lorelei yelled over the music when I bolted out of my apartment to demand explanations. I switched the system off and took a couple of deep breath before allowing any comment to pass my lips. This wasn’t her fault.
The second time, though, the loud music drove me to my door without my even noticing how pissed off I was. I skidded to a stop when I saw Lorelei swaying, eyes closed and body relaxed. Then I paid attention to the song: Hypnotic Children Waltz by Tartaros. What the hell could she be looking for now?
“Innocence,” she replied when I asked. It felt wrong on so many levels I failed to find the words to explain my alarm. Luckily, minutes later, all Lorelei could think about was her stomach so I subtly turned off the music and made her a sandwich before forcing her back to sleep.
The only thing that surprised me when I woke up to the sound of London After Midnight’s Carry On…Screaming (Ruins) was the unexpected pleasantness of Lorelei’s singing voice. Somewhere between whisper and vibrating power, she found the perfect notes to harmonize with the group’s singer and increase both the beauty and the sadness conveyed by the melody. I wished she would sing something else but couldn’t bring myself to interrupt her.
When the song ended, Lorelei spotted me and blushed, which stirred the familiar conflict between ‘cute’ and ‘terrifying’. She looked absolutely loveable with her reddened cheeks but they also screamed how changed she was. For better or worse? At least she wasn’t dead, mentally diminished or too insane.
She’ll be fine once the neurochemicals find their balance. If they ever do.
Lorelei shifted from one foot to the other – a telltale sign I now easily recognized – until I opened my arms. She buried her face in the curve of my neck and wrapped her arms around me. She didn’t cry. It was the only emotion I never saw on her despite the illness. I brushed hair behind her ear and sheltered her against me while we headed for my bed.
At first, her depressive and suicidal phases were incredibly violent and sudden. I almost lost her a couple of times then started shooting her with more artificial neurochemicals to counter them. These days, they were milder and manageable without drugs; she just went into panic attacks if she slept alone on some nights. She didn’t want to ask for my care though she needed it. Thus the uneasy shifting.
I had to lift her for the last few meters; she fell asleep on the way to my bedroom. I placed her under the cover and she wrapped her arm around me, resting her head on my chest, as soon as I lay by her side. I sighed.
Better not think about how her freaky ups, downs, needs and urges messed up with my own emotions. I prayed every night she wouldn’t get a libido boost one day. I didn’t think I could resist her even though I wanted to; it would be plain wrong. And even if I got away with it on that day, there was no telling it wouldn’t bite me in the ass the next.
Maybe her hatred of the tech I loved balanced out my value as the only man around.
Things would be much simpler once she got better.
Life would go back to normal.

15c – iPlay Brain Surgeon >>

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About Aheïla

Somewhere in Quebec City, Aheïla works as a Game Design Director by day and writes by night. Known for her blue hair, unyielding dynamism and tasty cooking (quails, anyone?), she’s convinced “prose is the new crack”. She satisfies her addiction daily on The Writeaholic’s Blog and weekly on Games' Bustles View all posts by Aheïla

8 responses to “Killing Time OST – 15b – iPlay Brain Surgeon

  • Jenn

    Why oh why do I think that last line of prophetic? I like how you showed a lot of details with out us getting bogged down in it. It would actually translate well to the screne.

  • mish

    “I prayed every night she wouldn’t get a libido boost one day ” … I suspect that you’re keeping your options open with regards to the direction the story is taking … preparing us for something , maybe ?
    And Jen is right about that last line ~ life will never be the same again …

    • Aheïla

      *writerly grin* I don’t think anyone could go through something like this and not change at least a little. I think Vexx is being a bit naive or he’s in denial.

  • ralfast

    “Maybe her hatred of the tech I loved balanced out my value as the only man around.”

    An addict talking about loving the object of his addiction. This does not bode well.

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