Sizzle
It's dawn, and the succulent scent of fried eggs fills the air.
An elderly woman speaks out.
"Matthew, dear. Up already?"
"Yeah." The raspy voice of her husband answers.
"It's only dawn and you're already on the couch.... you could be spending more time with me, dear."
"I want to watch the game as soon as I can."
"But they don't start this early in the morning?"
"I'll watch whatever in the meantime, Lara."
"..."
Switching between channels, Matthew finally decides to watch the news.
The voice of a news anchor could be heard.
"—tragedy at the intersection of Redwood and Caroline street. With 15 dead, and 1 missing. Authorities have yet to release information about the cause of deaths, which is another mystery. According to eye-witnesses, there were no signs of gunfire or struggle. Even when they were nearby, they didn't hear any distress."
The elderly woman glances over to the television.
"Hey, isn't that near Jonathan's new job?"
"I'm sure he's fine." The husband replied, who seemed to be unworried.
——————————
Creak
Slam
There stood Bryon, back in his apartment.
He leans against his door as he buries his face into his palms.
"I thought I was pretty desensitized, I guess seeing other people dead just isn't the same— and they're DEAD-dead."
He thinks back to that horrific scene that made his stomach turn.
"What even happened? Mass suicide? I don't get it."
He crouches down, and gets into a more comfortable position.
"What should I do? What do I do? Were they killed instead? Then who killed them? How did he or she or they kill them? It doesn't make any sense! Seriously, how do people just DIE like that!? Actually, mass suicide? No way! I'm pretty sure I saw someone's body all mangled up too! ...Unless they were hit by a car, but still! I still think someone killed them! But how!? Aliens? Ghosts? Curses!?—Wait..."
In the middle of his rant, he realizes something.
"Abnormal deaths..? No way. Besides, my device teleports me. And the corpses decompose, not get all mangled— there couldn't possibly be OTHER teleportation devices right? This is pretty advanced technology! Speaking of which, I should change the name...it's pretty tiring to say. Let's see... TDevice? Warper? Umm..."
He goes off track for a moment before coming back to his senses.
"Oh yeah, I should just call the old man. Hopefully he can confirm—oh right."
After ranting to himself for a while, he finally calms himself down.
Now he's just alone in his room, without a phone, with a teleportation device that duplicates you and kills you.
He honestly wished he was given a cooler futuristic device, so he could be a hero.
Those people died, there's no getting them back. What could some guy with a teleportation device possibly do?
Even though he now wields teleportation, he feels even more powerless than he did before.
——————————
Click
It's midnight, crickets are chirping, and Byron's door was just unlocked.
Bryon, being the vulnerable creature he is—sleeps through his front door being opened.
"Stay like this, and you're going to get robbed one day." A woman's voice whispered.
She quietly enters the apartment, and searches for Bryon's computer.
Upon arriving, she places an envelope on his desk.
She places something inside of his computer case, and turns to leave.
Before she shut the door, she caught a glimpse of the device sitting by his bed.
"Seriously, hide that better if you're that much of a deep sleeper."
——————————
"My wallet's here, my computer's here and the device is still here. Nothing seems to be stolen, do I even call the police?"
Bryon wasn't sure how to react to his home being broken into, it was his first time.
His first thought was to call the police, but nothing was missing from his home—instead, he received a letter.
"Woah, the handwriting is—! ...Still shit!"
Although he was being a bit rude, the text he saw could be described as a series of cryptic symbols holding the secrets to the universe.
"Um so.. 'Hello again! H-Have you gotten used to the teleportation device? I hope you weren't too...' spouked? Oh, 'spooked by the byproduct it left.'
For whatever reason, Bryon read the letter out loud.
He's glad he doesn't have an audience right now, because the difficulty of reading this is demon level— if that's a thing.
"..'So, more on the teleportation device— it...' Oh man, I can't even read the rest. Why is the text getting smaller and smaller?"
Whoever wrote this letter had really weird handwriting. It was always ugly, but for some reason the size went from big to small.
There appeared to be another phone number on the note, but—
"My phone's repair was delayed, because of that. I probably won't get it back until a week later."
He decides that the first thing he does when he gets his phone is scold whoever wrote the note and demand a verbal version of the letter.
Sigh "Guess I'll go for a jog."
He tried to get up off of his bed, but his legs were weak after sitting on them for so long.
Thus he trips and something box shaped breaks his fall.
Crack
"Ow, dammit."
He sits in pain for a few seconds, before coming to a realization.
He has a horrified look on his face, as he slowly looks down.
"Oh shit, oh fuck— oh shit!"
The teleportation device was in pieces. He thought it was pretty sturdy, but it only took his body weight to crush it.
"Fuck! What have I done!?"
He desperately scoops the shards across the floor towards him, before his eyes locked onto something shining.
"..What's that?"
It appeared to be some kind of prism, with an engraving on each face.
It wasn't all that much in design, but for Bryon— it was very alluring.
Without even thinking, he grabs it.
"Wait— what if this is radioactive? If it is I can't let it contaminate my apartment! I need to bring this to the graveyard!"
Referring to his testing grounds— which is plentiful with fertilizer, made from 100 percent Bryon.
As he clenches the prism, he notices that the lighting changed.
No. In fact, everything changed.
"Wait, what? How?"
He was in a forest, and not just any forest.
He scans his surroundings and confirms that it is indeed, his graveyard.
Bryon stares into the prism sitting warmly in his palm.
"So you do the hard work, huh?"
Soul Transit - Chapter 4 " A Core Function "