Excerpts from "Distortions"

The spiraling light curled out from the ring as it was brushed by Alden Gray's hand, and he sighed exhaustedly as the phenomenon happened again. The detective felt his mind get pulled into the past as distortion uncoiled into truth once more. A woman was leaving... She had a secret... The ring remembered it... What was it? Oh well, Alden was going to uncover it anyway. Whether he wanted to or not, his power was going to bring to light all the shadowy depths of secrecy. There was another... A man, strange to the ring... Unknown to it... Joy, the woman felt joy in his presence... Betrayal... His mind was thrust back to the real world as the psychic power left the ring, its secrets depleted and the emotional weight drained from it.

"You did it again," Elaine said as she pulled her hand away, his thumb slipping off the ring he'd touched. "You just can't help violating everyone's privacy, huh?" His (soon to be ex) girlfriend sighed. "Alden, dear. I'm sorry for that. I know you can't control it, but you can't keep quiet about it either, can you? You can never just move on from what the visions tell you. I--I can't be with someone like that. I'm sorry." With that, the blonde woman stood up and walked away, leaving him alone once more.

He made to get up, but stopped when his phone began to ring. 'Back to work, I suppose.' Alden thought as the police were calling him. "Gray Investigations, this is Alden."

"Alden, get to 485 Washington Street." Joan said. "We've got a Distortion. You know the drill." He sighed out as he heard his oldest friend on the other end.

As Alden paid the bill and shrugged on his coat and gloves, he called a taxi and gave the address. "Hey, aren't you that psychometer or something?" The driver asked.

"Psychometrist." Alden corrected out of habit. "And yes, I'm that crazy guy from the newspapers."

"You know, my grandma had some psychic intuition." The driver commented. He was a large man with a thick mustache that reminded the detective of a broom's bristles.

'He's been dying his hair.' Alden thought absentmindedly. 'Touching up, for the most part, but he's going bald. He takes pride in his mustache and is wearing a knit cap down over his ears. Trying to hide the fact his hair is falling out.' Again, Alden drew a conclusion that he didn't like.

"So, what does it feel like?" The driver asked. "Jumping into memories?"

"Ever been on a roller coaster?" The driver nodded, looking back at Alden now that they were at a stoplight. "It feels sort of like going on a particularly fast rollercoaster that has a lot of twists and turns. Imagine that feeling of your stomach coming out of your chest, but while you're still Your mind is entering another's view of reality."

"Whoa." The driver nodded. "The name's Bill, by the way." The driver reached back and gave the detective an awkward handshake. "Must be tough, huh? Can't say I envy you. I don't know if I could do that all the time."

"Neither do I." Alden whispered as the drive continued in silence.

Bill dropped the detective off a block away as the police barricades were stopping any from getting closer without permission. "Good luck, Mr. Gray!" Bill called out as he drove off. Alden reached into his pocket and rubbed a small talisman with his thumb as he walked forwards. The gloves gave him some control over his psychometry and allowed him to avoid entering his personal recollections for the moment. He walked up to the barricades, already hearing the high-pitched whine that true Distortions emitted. They were nearly unbearable when he was just starting out, but he grew accustomed to the noise all too soon.

"Alden!" Joan shouted as she exited a jewelry store. "Officers, let him through!" The head detective of the Psychic Control Division ordered. "Sorry, were you on a date?" The redhead asked as she walked with him to the jeweler. "Oh, you were dumped again, weren't you?"

"Joan, would it be too much to ask to save the personal talk for after the Distortion has been solved?" Alden questioned as the whining grew louder and louder. "How many were affected by the shadows?" He asked, slipping into work mode.

"I'll give you the details later, okay?" Joan asked as Alden nodded. The two entered the store and Alden winced as the Distortion revealed itself. "So, where is it?"

Alden took a glove off and knelt down. "The whole store's a Distortion." He muttered. "The level of power to accomplish such a feat... This was no ordinary crime. This was planned."

"What do you mean?" Joan asked. "How can the whole store be a Distortion? Distortions are psychic connections to objects formed through emotional strife, right?"

"Not quite." Alden muttered as he closed his eyes. "Now, I need to be alone for this. Joan, if you wouldn't mind leaving me be." He heard the door shut behind him as he relaxed his mental guards and let himself dive into the abyss.

The falling sensation stopped when Alden landed upon the shifting ground of the jewelry store. Well, the false jewelry store that is. The one that had been altered, twisted, tainted. The rotten aura emanated from all around the detective while he took a few steps forward, concentrating his will like a blade while preparing to cut through the shadows and travel straight to the heart of the Distortion.

When it didn't work, he heard a laugh as a man appeared on top of a shelf, kicking his feet in the air lazily. "That's not going to work!" He stretched the 'o' in work before laughing crazily and sighing. "If you want to win the game, you're going to have to play by the rules." The man hopped down and walked up to Alden before offering a handshake. "Big fan of yours, by the way. Especially your early work. You know? The good ol' days when you would bend and break the laws to get to the Distortions and catch your criminals." The man sighed longingly. "You were much more entertaining back then."

The jewelry store shifted to an empty alleyway, startling Alden for a moment before he realized what was happening. "You're like me. A psychometrist." The other man clapped before cheering. As the crazy man danced into the light, he looked like a stereotypical mastermind. Long black coat, black turtleneck sweater, black pants and shoes, even black gloves. All of them were glowing slightly with an unknown menacing red light shining through the stitches and lines of the attire.

"Yes! There's the detective! Now we can finally start the game!" The mad man smiled at him before holding up two fingers. "Two rules! One: anything goes. And two: no brute forcing through the Distortions. Neither of us will have any fun if you try those tricks. If you try those, I'll have to use some of my own tricks, and that won't be fun at all. Just fair play, after all."

"Who are you?" Alden asked. "You know a lot about me, but I know very little about you."

"Hmm..." The man paced. "Oh! How about Gremlin? No, too innocuous. Hobgoblin? I'll get sued. Any name ending with 'goblin' might get me sued." He kept pacing. "Oh! I've got it. Infernis..." The lunatic tried it out. "I like it. Infernis! Call me Infernis!"

'Stupid name.' Alden thought to himself before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, let's start playing." Infernis cackled before fading away into the darkness. 'Okay, I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way.' The detective cracked his knuckles before exhaling.

Distortions are illusions, nothing more. The theories behind their formation vary, but there is always one similarity: something's twisted within them. Distortions affect the collective unconscious' memory of a series of events. If left alone for too long, it would slowly turn into an urban legend or an assumed truth. Alden's ability allowed him to straighten out the memories and reveal the truth that lie after lie had hidden.

Within every Distortion existed a variety of false paths and traps meant to lead him astray and force him to abandon his truth, but he wasn't worried. Distortions, even sophisticated ones like the jewelry store, adhered to strict rules. Fair play is impossible in a Distortion as the rules are designed to force failure. However, Alden remembered the first rule: anything goes.

Alden smirked and closed his eyes before striding forwards into the labyrinth beneath the false storefront. He was stopped, as always, by the first shade that guarded the gates. "Stop! This is no place for you!" The guard made of darkness called out as the detective strode forwards.

"Why?" Alden asked. "I live here after all? Don't you remember me?" Alden pretended to be offended before taking the guard's arm, feeding some of his power into the construct, distorting reality to convince the guard of his words.

"O-Oh, sorry about that, pal." The guard stammered before letting Alden through. 'It will only last a few minutes,' Alden thought. 'I can't use brute force after all.'

The sensations of shifting perceptions surrounded him as each path diverged into a myriad of possible paths, all to try and deceive his senses. 'Hmm...' Alden thought as he looked for any clues. "Aha!" Alden manifested a small pebble into the false world, a minor trick for anyone with some psychic aptitude. It was the collective unconscious after all, it belonged to everyone.

He tossed it and other replicas down each path and watched as they vanished from all but one path. Alden headed down that one before ducking and rolling right out of the way of a metal trap. 'Luckily I heard the clang of the pebble hitting one of the blades.' Alden thought as he stood up and brushed himself off. 'Time to get weird.' Alden groaned as he smiled at the darkness and began speaking to it.

"You know, you almost got me with that trap." He complimented the maze, seeing it light up with a pale red light. 'And now it's blushing...'

"You know, you're the first person to ever compliment me on my Guillotine Gate." A disembodied voice shyly mentioned as the shifting walls stabilized and the true path manifested for a moment. "Not even my creator was impressed by it."

"What a shame..." Alden responded as he followed the path before stopping again. "What type of metal did you use? It was much too sharp to simply be iron or even steel."

A giggle was heard as the labyrinth's voice was distinctly feminine now. "Oh, just some high-carbon tempered steel with a monomolecular edge. Nothing too special." The blush was even brighter this time as Alden hurried down the true path once more.

"Wow!." Alden was sincere with this compliment because forming such a sophisticated structure took a degree of skill and talent that he didn't possess. "What's your name?"

"R-Really?" The labyrinth asked. "You-You want to know my name?" A face appeared on the wall. "I know you've been tricking me into revealing the path, but you sound so sincere."

"I do." Alden nodded. "I was trying to get to your creator, but I am genuinely impressed by your creations."

"You're, you're going to undo the Distortion, aren't you?" The labyrinth asked again, Alden simply nodding in response.

"Okay..." The labyrinth revealed the true path, all the shifting fading away from around him, except for her face and the true path. "Promise me this though. Find my body, in the real world. I've forgotten everything but this: I was stolen." The face faded before Alden could say a word.

Alden lowered his head in respect before rushing down the path to where the hidden truth resided: where Infernis was waiting.

The center of the labyrinth stretched out before the detective, the dreams and hopes of innumerable passersbys flanked the sides of the rock walls which slowly turned into foliage as the Minoan faded into the Victorian which faded into the Alighierian. The garden walls slowly turned into embers as sulfur filled the air.

'Infernis is taking his name literally...' Alden mentally grumbled as he took each step with more and more weight on his shoulders.

"Finally! The great psychometrist arrives!" Infernis cackled as he pranced around the dais he manifested from thin air. "What did you think of my maze?"

Alden just stared at him, not saying a word. Not giving him the pleasure of a response.

Infernis groaned. "Fine..." He huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm impressed. Seriously, I'm impressed." His grin was back. "I knew you were good. I saw your early work. Everyone knows you are good, but man. You've outdone yourself! How did you manage to flirt your way out of a labyrinth?"

Again, Alden wouldn't give him the benefit of retort. Because the labyrinth wasn't always a labyrinth. She was a soul, just like him. Just like everyone else. Infernis too, despite Alden's reluctance to admit it.

"Come on..." Infernis rolled his head back. "You're boring me here! What? Did you and the labyrinth have a heart to heart?"

"She had a name." Alden grunted.

"Oh! So the detective can speak!" Infernis giggled. "And here I thought I was going to do all the talking on this date."

"We are not on a date." Alden responded again, his willpower being completely used to resist the urge to destroy this Distortion.

"Yes yes." Infernis waved his hand through the air lazily. "Because you have such great experiences with those." Alden's grimace intensified. "Right! You've been dumped more often than a garbage bin outside of an apartment building!"

His control wavered for a moment and the Distortion shook, the flaming walls extinguishing themselves as roaring waters and swirling vines took their place. Alden wrenched his powers back under control and restored the original illusion: the jewelry store.

"Finally! And here I thought you were never going to play ball!" Infernis cackled, jumping around with glee. "Come on! Let's shatter some minds! I'll take the old and the sick, you take the criminals and those who like pineapple on pizza! Wait, those are the same thing aren't they?"

"Oh no, you're not going down that rabbit hole." Alden grumbled before bending reality to his will as subtly as possible.

"Why not? The way I see it, we can do anything we want to. This world is ours. Everyone owns it, sure, but we're the few who can shape it. Give it color, give it life." Infernis was serious. Alden wasn't sure if he wanted the jokester back or not. "You see, people like us, we have two choices in life. I'm sure you know what one of them is, don't you? The path of resistance. The path of trying to fit in with a world that will NEVER accept you."

"Yes, I'll listen to the crazy man about how to live." Alden retorted, not letting the words get to him.

"Exactly my point! Why are you letting all those crazy people tell you how to live?" Infernis asked, stepping closer. "You see, that's what I'm talking about. People like us, we don't get to choose what we experience. Those apes out there, they only have five senses. Us, you and me, we have six. Or seven, if you're lucky."

Alden raised an eyebrow at that, his concentration still unbroken. "And I guess you're taking the other path? The one without resistance?"

"Yep! Let. Chaos. Reign! The only meaning in life is that which we assign to ourselves. Don't you know that?" Infernis nodded, the manic grin reappearing on his face. "So, if the world rejects me for what I can't control, then I'll reject them with what I can."

"The only thing you've said that's made any sense so far is that life has no meaning until we give it some. So, what meaning are you creating with your life?" Alden asked, doing little more than buying time at this point.

"I'd tell you, but all you're doing is buying time until you can wrest control from me, right?" Infernis asked with a knowing grin. He winked. "Sorry toots, but you're not turning my dream into a nightmare."

'Dream...' Alden thought with a realization. 'That's how he's doing all of this. He's not just a psychometrist. He's an oneiromancer.' Alden reworked his sequence on the fly.

"Oh? What are you doing now?" Infernis asked, truly curious. His eyes were glancing all over the spiritual world, looking for any cognitive ripples. "Please tell me you haven't given up."

"You played your hand too soon, Infernis." Alden whispered. "But now it's time to wake up."

"I like the sound of my name--" He was cut off as the Distortion shifted and began to release beams of strobing light. "Huh? No! I'm waking up! I'm waking..." Infernis' voice grew drowsy before he stumbled and collapsed. The world faded with him.

Alden's soul rose and rejoined his physical form, barely a minute had passed since he had let his inner self run free. He cleared his throat. He brushed off his clothes and wiped the tears from his eyes.

As the jewelry shop's door rang the bell which sounded his exit, Joan was waiting there for him. "You sure took your time."

"Sorry, the maniac was waiting for me." Alden shrugged, massaging his temples. "It's been a while since I've pushed myself that hard."

"Wait, there was someone in there? Besides you?" Joan's eyes were wide as she stepped close to him. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Alden. You weren't alone?"

"No, there was another. He's crazy. Absolutely insane." He shook his head. "And I don't think he's going to stop any time soon."

"Well, I guess we're going to be pretty busy, huh?" Joan asked, making Alden smile, despite himself.

"Yeah, I guess we are." His smile turned to a grimace as he thought ahead to the chaos sweeping over their city.

Alden twirled a pen in his hand, staring at the city as it passed him by. Joan was driving him to the police station where he was to debrief the precinct on Distortions. Again. He sighed, the cool air making a cloud of steam curl before dissipating. "What was his purpose?" He muttered to himself, thinking of his counterpart, the maniac. "If he wanted to stage a crime, why go through all that pomp and circumstance?"

"Alden?" Joan asked. "Stop mumbling to yourself. We're here." He nodded, setting the pen down before brushing against his friend's gearbox. The familiar, involuntary twist in his gut emerged as the memories poured over him.

"Look, Elaine. Alden's not a bad guy. Please, just try to reconsider--" Joan sighed. "I know. He can't control it though. You know what it does to him though! You know how he feels about that!" Elaine's voice was garbled in the memories. The gearbox wasn't familiar enough to capture everything. "Fine! I regret ever setting you two up!" Joan hung up angrily before beginning to punch the passenger seat over and over. "Stupid, Elaine! Stupid, Joan! Stupid everyone!" Alden saw just a hint of tears before he was drawn out of the memory.

"Alden? Alden!" Joan patted his shoulder. "It happened again, huh?" He nodded, feeling ashamed. Joan squeezed his shoulder consolingly. "It's not your fault. I was going to tell you about it anyway. Just, after the meeting with the chief."

Alden nodded again before standing up and exiting the car. He followed his best friend into the station, seeing all the officers look at him suspiciously before parting ways. Not many of them believed in psychic abilities, after all, but his results spoke for themselves. Joan brought him to the front of the bullpen where the chief of police was waiting.

"Listen up!" The chief bellowed. He was a tall man with a bristled mustache like a stiff comb. He was paradoxically thin despite his fondness for doughnuts and milkshakes. His bald head glinted in the fluorescent lighting; the chief taking pride in the waxed scalp. "Mr. Gray is here to discuss Distortions with y'all. Again. Since most of you slept through the last briefing." He glared at all of the officers. "I know you don't believe in psychics; to be honest, I didn't either." A wry grin twitched on his face. "I even hounded poor Gray over it for months before I saw my first Distortion."

Alden cleared his throat, taking advantage of the pause to step forward and begin. "Officers. Distortions are essentially urban legends which form as a result of a collective desire for the truth to be wrong. Normally, this takes the shape of trauma being reworked into a victimless crime, or scapegoats being created to fill a void justice left unresolved." They were losing attention, he had to tie it into reality. Lose the abstract for a moment to focus on the real.

"Two years ago, there was a Distortion which burned a medical clinic down with two nurses inside. Nobody wanted to believe that something so terrible could just happen on its own. So a Distortion was formed to fix this. A Distortion which blamed one of the nurses for smoking near oxygen tanks." All of the officers were paying attention now. Alden looked at Joan before continuing. "Even she was convinced by the Distortion that she was a smoker, despite all evidence showing the contrary. But none of that evidence was clear or reliable until the false secret was undone."

"So what? People make mistakes. Trauma can cause this." One of the louder officers, Joan's best friend Rachel, shot back at him. She'd never trusted Alden. Honestly, he didn't blame her. She wasn't a believer, so the fact that he knew as much about her as he did was suspicious.

"Yes, but what about the strange lack of cigarette ash on her hands and around the source of the fire?" Alden asked. "The lack of tar on the nurse's lungs? Those are not as easily explained. However, those facts alone aren't powerful enough to overcome the unconscious shift in your mind. Even if the whole case was laid out before you, the dots wouldn't fully connect because there was an impetus to ignore the facts. A preconceived supposition." Rachel lowered her head.

"That is what Distortions are at their core. Emotional convictions powerful enough to alter the minds of others. They are no different than a charismatic politician's speeches in essence, but they are far more dangerous than simple propaganda. Because Distortions are silent. They don't feed any ideas or thoughts through rhetoric or imagery; no, Distortions are little more than nudges. It's the human mind which fills in the gaps." All the officers were worried now. They were likely thinking about how many innocents they could have arrested unknowingly.

"Here's the good news though." Joan blurted out, smiling broadly. "There's a certain demographic which is immune to Distortions."

"Psychics?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, technically." Alden agreed. "But no. Children, actually, are immune to Distortions because their minds haven't fully developed the ability to properly reason through problems. The same goes for highly skeptical or mistrustful people. However, they are often called conspiracy theorists and generally believe in actual urban legends rather than those created by Distortions, so they are false positives. However, what you can do to try and recognize a Distortion is talk to some of these people. See if what they're saying is unbelievable or just crazy. Failing that, I'm always happy to help."

"So how do you solve Distortions?" Rachel asked again, pressing the question.

"By unraveling the lies Distortions make. By bringing the truth to light inside the collective unconscious, the false logic the public unknowingly perpetuates dissolves as if it was never there. There's no fanfare though. No eureka moment. But when the problem is re-examined, then the truth is known. That's when it seems so simple." Alden finished, sitting down and watching the officers process what he said.

'I wonder if it'll work this time.' He thought before closing his eyes and waiting for the results. That was all he could do; wait and hope.