07 - The step
The Mighty Boa Constrictor doesn't like cars. Not because they're not nice, or not fast enough, or they move on four tyres, or spit out polluting gases, or they're cold and built from steel, or that they have no friends, or arms to hug with, that they cannot cry or be happy, or tell anyone what is going on. No. There is a very particular reason for his dislike to cars. He once ate one. And it caused him a massive constipation.
And they were taken to The Plate.
The Plate, Max decided, was not very impressive. It was small, dark square just outside the town. Not much of a plate at all, Max thought, and certainly not a special one.
Then he noticed the one strange thing about it. Even though the sun was high in the sky - it was probably midday now - boiling hot and spreadings its warmth around the land, The Plate was the only spot that remained absolutely dark. Black. A chill went through Max. It wasn't good, he thought. Black. Cold.
Evil.
He heard voices. First he thought it was the wind doing tricks to him. But there was no wind at all. The air was unmoving, hot and heavy. Except in The Plate, where it was freezing cold, but still heavy as granite. Breathing wasn't easy. The voices came to him with increased vigour.
{Come To Us} they intoned, from nowhere and everywhere.
{Come And Be Free} they sang darkly, riding on the non-existant wind.
{If You Come To Use} they chorused in triumph.
{You Can Be Happy} Over and over they repeated those lines.
He tried to shut them out. Shut off his ears. Concentrate on something else. Anything else. The sun. Yellow. A formula one car. Fast. A ship. Floating. The North Pole. Cold. He glanced at Min. She was looking confusedly around. Did she hear the voices too? He was just about to ask her when the song changed.
{Come To Us}
{Take the step to the other side}
{Come With Us}
{Take the step across the river}
{Come And See}
{Come take the step}
Min muttered something under her breath.
"What?" asked Max.
"Voices," she said. "I hear someone. No. Many. They're everywhere. Singing. Singing.. that I should.. come.. to them."
"I hear them too," he said, but the voices grew in intensity and volume. If she heard him, she didn't indicate so. The chorus grew inside his brain, a dozen, a hundred, hundreds of people singing in unison, trying to convince him. To lure him.
He took the step.
The voices stopped abruptly in shock and horror. Uncertain what to do, they didn't do anything for a few moments. Then someone screamed inside his head, an agonizing outlet of pain and misery.
{Noooooo...!}
{Not outside The Plate...!}
{Come back.. Come back.. Wrooong.. Baaad...!}
He heard something else too. Another scream among the multitude of screams now echoing in his head. They were all becoming fainter by the second. Disappearing. But one scream was slightly different. Something.. someone.. itched his mind.. something.. one.. he had.. nearly forgotten for the moment.. someone rather.. important? Some..
The Plate abruptly vanished. And so did Min. Min..? Min?!
He must have said it out loud. Someone spoke.
"She is gone," said a voice behind. Slowly, dreamily Max turned around to look at a dark-clad figure. "But you are a strong man, my friend. Very strong, to resist The Plate."
Then his head bloomed and he lost his mind.