Anthony Wang
73c38c18ad
13 KiB
| title | date | draft | description | type | tags | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Killed By Your Mind | 2023-10-27T21:02:17Z | true | Happy Halloween 2023! | post |
|
"Think about the thrill, Saya," the thoughts pierce my mind, thoughts that don't belong to me, "You could become the ultimate delicacy, a culinary masterpiece that the world will never forget!"
I simply stare at him blankly, my mind washed out with dread. I'm the deer and his eyes are the headlights.
Finally, he asks, confused, "Saya, is something wrong? I was just complimenting your outfit, but you look like you just fell in a werewolf-infested ball pit! Hey, did you know they make ball pits for dogs now?"
"N-n-n-no, nothing's wrong, I'm p-p-perfectly fine," I stutter, then adding a giggle to defuse the tension, but it comes out like a dead cow. I flee the criminally awkward scene as quickly as possible, but the memory of it haunts the rest of my day.
I've normally thought of myself as a absolutely normal high school girl at a normal high school in the US, normal, extroverted, affable, cheerful, with a normal love for sphynx cats (look them up, I swear they're cute!), playing the theremin, reading science fiction, and wasting time on the internet. Just the normal teenager shebang. But none of that could have prepared me for this ordeal.
So picture this: it's just another boring day at school, and I'm in the hallway, weaving through a chaotic throng of students. Amidst the noise, I suddenly lock eyes with another student who looks like he just flunked out of life, and the inexplicable happens. A wave of emotions crashes into my mind, and I know that they aren't mine. An intense sadness... wait, sad about what? I have nothing to be sad about, since I'm actually doing quite fine! Am I reading his emotions? His emotions? Have I stumbled across the entrance to a corridor into someone else's mind? Does this power work on sphynx cats?
At first, I think it's a fluke, an anomaly, that I'm simply going insane (but I'm too normal to go insane!), but the same phenomenon occurs with the next person I make eye contact with, and the next, and the next. Emotions give way to words. Words give way to sentences. Sentences give way to terror. I can hear their thoughts, their twisted fantasies, their deepest, darkest desires. My newfound superpower reveals to me the world as it truly is: a cesspool of depravity and wickedness. Thanks, I hate it.
My friends? "Ugh, here comes Saya, always so self-centered and annoying, ready to obnoxiously yabber about those ugly sphynx cats, I'm gonna throw up if she mentions those cats one more time, so fucking annoying, Saya will never guess I'm the one spreading those vicious rumors about her... you know what, maybe I should just ban Saya from all our group chats, I bet everyone else will cheer in relief if I do..." (Yeah, well now, I won't care one bit if you ban me.)
That chemistry fanatic who sits next to me in math class? "Heh, I can't believe it was that easy to buy ammonium nitrate, 20 kilos of it, this is gonna be fucking awesome, just need to figure out how to acquire some number 2 fuel oil without getting on any watchlists, I can't wait to blow up some people with high explosives, this is gonna be some much fun, so much fun.. ugh, but the fuel oil might be kinda expensive, so maybe I can sell some more meth to fund this..." (I hope you blow yourself up on accident.)
That weird kid in a hoodie who stares at me all the time? I'll spare you the explicit and graphic details and just say that I'm the target of some disturbing fantasies.
My dad? "It's so obvious that the Super Bowl is scripted, I should have known, after that guy outside the sketchy McDonald's showed me the script for this year, man, it's so obvious now in hindsight that it's all choreographed by the New World Order to pacify the raving mobs, I'm gonna bet all my retirement savings now that I know the outcome and retire to a tropical island in the Texas, this is such a genius idea, wait, why is Saya staring at me weirdly like that? Whatever, we're going to be filthy rich soon..." (Thanks for the idiot genes.)
My adorable pet sphynx cat Sidney? "Meow meow, meow meow meow, meow meow meow!" (Such wise words!)
The once cheerful faces of my fellow students become masks of wickedness, as their vile thoughts permeate my consciousness. Wow, what a refreshing spa for my mind. The world slowly morphs into a living nightmare, my high school becomes an Ikea insane asylum populated by evil, soulless, wretched monsters. I'm the only sane person (except Sidney of course) drowning in a sea of insanity. I don't dare to confront my friends, or report the mad chemist to the police, or talk my dad out of his conspiracy theories. What if they find out about my superpower and think I'm a freak and ship me to become a lab rat forever trapped in a neuroscience research prison? Welp, I guess my only option is to withdraw from the world, since I'm not the kind of person who'd like to become the first test subject for some lunatic bomb aficionado. I start avoiding eye contact as if everyone else can shoot lasers out of their eyes. I manage to achieve negative introversion somehow on a sketchy online personality test. I notice that I'm talking more with Sidney than everyone else combined.
OK, enough terror, let's move on to something more appetizing. So there's this kid named Kelvin, who is sort of a celebrity at my school. He's incredibly talented at cooking and was even on a cooking show on TV, except the stir-fry shrimp with assorted nuts dish that he concocted accidentally gave one of the judges an allergic reaction. (He should have called it stir-fry shrimp with assorted allergens.) He's also super nice and possesses a contagious amount of happiness.
Or so I thought. Remember the "culinary masterpiece" weirdness from earlier? Well... that's him.
Over the next few days, Kelvin waves and says "hi!" to me every chance he gets. But through his eyes, I can hear his true nature.
"I've been working on a brand new culinary technique, and it's gonna totally shock the world! I mean, I may have had some false starts like using gasoline as a better version of cooking oil, but this is the real deal, let me tell you. Saya, you'll be my first test subject. You're going to experience the power of the microwave!" (Wow, I can't wait.)
"You know, I'm an accomplished chef, so I have some real power tools. A commercial microwave the size of a pizza oven, you'll fit in there just fine!" (No one should be allowed to sell these things to you!)
"I'm thinking of this beautiful dish, called Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, it's said to be so delicious that even the Buddha would abandon vegetarianism and jump over a wall just to have a scoop of it. It uses shark fins traditionally, but that's kinda bad for the environment, so maybe we could use you instead!" (Yeah, cause humans aren't an endangered species.)
"Just imagine the honor of being a pioneer in this culinary revolution! You'll be legendary!" (I feel very humbled indeed.)
"Imagine the flavors, Saya. The human palate is a frontier just waiting to be explored, and you could be on the bleeding edge!" (Ha ha, bleeding, ha ha.)
One day, Kelvin corners me in the hallway and nervously asks, "Saya, do you have time tomorrow right after school? There's... a surprise that I want to show you. You won't want to miss it!"
I'm floored. What will happen if I reject his offer? He's deliberating intensely about this too, debating whether to stalk me and microwave me in the middle of the night with a portable magnetron or torture me for eternity with a cheese grater. Panicking, I contemplate what Sidney would do in this situation, which is no help whatsoever, and finally manage to utter a "y-y-y-yes".
"Wonderful!" Kelvin exclaims, "I'll be waiting for you at the front entrance tomorrow! Seeya then!"
Have you ever snipped a wire and noticed that it's a hollow tube? Well, there's something called the skin effect, where alternating current only runs on the outside of the conductor and does not penetrate deeply into it. The depth at which the electromagnetic field reduces to 1/e of its intensity on the surface is called the skin depth, which varies with the frequency and the material's conductivity and permeability. In microwaves, electromagnetic waves heat up the water molecules in food, so some foods like large pieces of meat will come out of the microwave like they've just been hacked out of a glacier, protected by the skin effect. Same with humans. Your internal organs will probably be fine, but your eyes will be destroyed first, followed by intense skin burns, and then damage to your brain. And then your internal organs won't be fine because you'll be permabanned from IRL. Have fun. Hey, I'm just doing my research, wasting time online, in anticipation for a showdown against Kelvin the crazy cannibalistic culinary connoisseur!
That night, I also grab a large kitchen knife and sharpen it to a glistening, razor-thin edge. I test it on my wrist to ensure it can cut through flesh for self-defense. Hopefully I won't need it, but who knows.
The next day is pure agony. The thought of microwaves completely colonizes my mind. I can't focus or think. I can't even think about Sidney or other sphynx cats. Finally, after hours of getting preheated by disturbing microwave thoughts, the school day ends and I meet Kelvin as planned at the front entrance.
"Hi Saya!" he greets me cheerfully, "So what's your favorite kind of sushi roll?"
"Uh, an-n-n-nything that's not microwaved," I utter, completely unable to talk about anything other than microwaves. My heart is pounding like I'm playing in the final minutes of an intense soccer match, but I'm slightly comforted by the thought of the knife in my backpack and the pep talk that Sidney gave me last night consisting solely of meows.
"Oh don't be silly, what kind of sushi rolls are microwaved?" he laughs.
Kelvin leads me to an ordinary red sedan, and we get inside. I half-expect a blast of microwave radiation inside the car, but my eyes feel fine. So far.
During the nerve-racking drive to Kelvin's house, he blabbers like a broken record about the various intricacies of sushi, but it just goes in one ear and straight out my other ear. Microwave facts play in my head on endless loop.
We arrive at Kelvin's house, and he proudly presents me with a plate of artisanal sushi rolls, wrapped in fine sheets of pink soybean paper, with delicate, floral notes of cherry blossoms, a light drizzle of wasabi, and a sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds.
"Saya, I woke up at 5 AM today just to hand-craft these for you! Take a bite!"
"I-I-I-I-I-I-I," I stammer.
"What?"
"I-I-I can't eat this", I say forcefully, pushing the plate away. What if it's human flesh? If I eat it, will I become like Kelvin, a psychotic chef with a penchant for human flesh?
Kelvin doesn't seem to take offense and adds happily, "Hey, maybe I should show you my culinary lab in the basement first! I can show you how to make sushi!" Yeah, I'd love to learn how to commit a culinary murder.
I take a quick glance at his eyes before turning away. A torrent of vicous thoughts flood my mind. "Saya, prepare yourself for immortality through taste! Your name will become synonymous with culinary audacity!" (And your name will become synonymous with murder.)
Kelvin leads me towards a door, followed by a plunge into his evil lair. As we descend the stairs, I can feel my demise getting closer and closer. This is it. No more eyes. No more skin. No more brain. And worst of all, no more Sidney! He's going to stuff me into that gigantic industrial microwave and bake me into his macabre masterpiece!
With a surge of adrenaline, I reach for the knife in my backpack. A terrible scream erupts, and in a split second, Kelvin is lying on the ground, a huge gash in his neck, and my clothes are drenched in blood. I can taste the slight odor of blood in my mouth. I stare into his vacant eyes, realizing that I can no longer hear his thoughts. Wait, what if my superpower was just all a delusion? What if I'm the insane one?
I gingerly step around the basement and discover that it's not filled with torture machines but rather a potpourri of vegetables, fish, spices, assorted allergens, and normal kitchen equipment. The whole place reeks of normalness. I open a refrigerator expecting the remains of Kelvin's previous victims, but instead find an blue ice cream cake frosted with the message "I Love You". There's no industrial microwave in sight. What the hell?
I'm flooded with a new wave of terror and dread as I race back to my house. I rinse away the blood stains with cold water and hydrogen peroxide and take a chilly shower, but I can't wash away the horrors of the past weeks. Am I truly surrounded by psychotic monsters? What's real? What's just a figment of my shattered mind? Can sphynx cats eat onions?
Happy Halloween 2023!