The Infinidex - Prologue

“...there is nothing...”

A voice, soft and still, rises from the darkness and whispers back to nothing.
Then, like waters from a breached dam, more voices break forth, some simultaneously, some one after the other, rising and falling like flash-lights going off at a parade.

“... what am I doing here ...”.
“... here's much to do with hate, but more with love...”.
“... I don't remember...”.
“... remember, remember, the 5th of November ...”.
“... now is not the time ...”

Soon, the waters become a sea, an oceanic sound scape swelling, surging and swallowing everything.

“... if I could save time in a bottle ...”
“... Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum ...”
“... I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong...”
“...She's right. We saw one – one came out of Wally's head...”
“...If a fool's head can't express better opinions than that...”
“...then you got Lyme disease...”
“...sometimes you gwyne to git sick; but every time you's gwyne to git well...”
“...I knew it, she came from the well, the freaking well...”
“...no, I can't stay here...”
“...wait, you have to wait until the crossing happens...”
“...I have to go...”.
“... go then. There are other worlds then these ...”.

The voices now come furiously, wave upon wave of them. Words layered upon words, compacted again and again, until they were silky as skin, malleable as flesh and dense as bone.

“... I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in ...”
“... In the deep places of the world! And thither we are going against my wish ...”,
“... If wishes were horses then beggars would ride ...”,
“... and throw the rider headlong in the lists ...”,
“... hear the enchanting sweetness of our song and he who listens will go on his way not only charmed but wiser... ”,“ ... Fly ! You fools ! ...”, “... of shoes – and ships – and sealing-wax – of cabbages - and kings...”, “...a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb ...”, “...some thing's not right...”, “...O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!...”, “...what is my name ...”, “...nameless things beyond the mountain of madness...”, “...wait...”, “...to build a prairie, all you need is a clover and a bee...”, “...I...”, “...lauriё lantar lassi súrinen yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron...” , “... WHO are those hooded hordes swarming ...”, “...does it matter how old she is and how old I AM...”, “...oh gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning ...”, “...Off with his head !...”.

Dong. The clock strikes. A candle flickers to life in the darkness. Dong. Dong. The clock strikes twice more and is silent. Slowly the candle burns away, giving forth a warm yellow light. Beady strings of melted wax run down the sides of the candle and into the holder.

The painting starts twitching. Rather, the mustache of a bearded figure in the painting starts to twitch nervously. Before long, the twitch becomes an agitated buzzing. Then as if have gathered enough energy, it flies right off the painting and towards the middle of the room.
It is a peppered moth enchanted by the candle light. It flutters toward the source of its enthrallment, tracing an erratic and unwilling path. Nearing the candle, it hovers around the flame, moving forwards then backing away as it feels the heat. Responding to the moth's coy flirting, the candle flame begins to stir and return the favor, leaning away from the moth as it moves in and leaning towards the moth as it moves away. Soon, the strange couple starts dancing to a tune played by beating wings, while backup dancers of light and shadow emerge from the background, keeping step and time.

Gradually, the couple close in on each other, as they prepare for the final abrazo. The backup dancers go wild, moving so fast they merge into each other and make the room flicker rapidly between existence and non-existence.

The moth and flame embrace.

Everything is swallowed up in darkness again.

Pzzssss. An hissing sound rings out, and light bursts forth, calling the room back to life. The candle flame had singed one of the moth's wing, and that broke the ancient spell. The moth free from its glamour, immediately backs away and tries to fly off. However it's burnt wing doesn't hold up and it only gets beyond the table before spiraling out of control towards the ground, dropping upside down onto an object lying on the carpet. Momentarily dazed, it quickly recovers and struggles to set itself upright, finally succeeding after a herculean push of both the good and the useless wing. Relieved, it settles back to rest its injuries, happy to have escaped what many before it could not.

The moth explodes in a bright flash. The object curled up in a fetal position opens her eyes.

“Who am I?”.