The Last Experience Point

Chapter 81: Jimmy

There was something about a combination of loud music, hot babes dancing, and copious amounts of alcohol that never failed to pull Jimmy Green out of a slump. No matter what was bothering him, a night out with the boys made him as good as new. At least…it usually did. But not this time. Not even a good old-fashioned house party like this could get the ache out of his chest. Even as he knocked back another coke and rum out of a big red plastic cup, he couldn’t shake the feeling of despair that was creeping over him. And his buddy, Marcus, could definitely sense this, because he gave Jimmy a heavy-handed slap on the back then set down a can of Miller Lite on the table in front of the couch where he was sitting.

“Bro, you gotta get over this bitch already,” he said to Jimmy, speaking loudly enough so that he could be heard over Usher. All throughout the living room, people were dancing and having a great time. Normally, he’d join them. In fact, this one girl, Alicia, who Jimmy believed was an economics major, kept smiling at him and giving him inviting looks. But he just didn’t have it in him tonight.

“I’m trying,” Jimmy said. “But it’s just hard, ‘cause she’s on Insta right now talking all this shit and acting like I’m the one who—”

“Man, just forget it. Who cares what she says?” Marcus waved his arm around. “Yo, just look. There’s girls everywhere here. Fuck this ho. Seriously. Stop thinking about her. She don’t matter anymore.”

Jimmy sighed. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”

Even still, he couldn’t help but glance down at his phone, eager to see if Dianne had said anything else about him. The fact that she was openly talking shit about him on social media really rubbed him the wrong way. Especially since she was the one who’d broken up with him. Oddly enough, she hadn’t taken down any of their pictures from when they were together, including the one from last summer, when the two of them had spent all day at the beach. Jimmy couldn’t believe how happy he’d been then. He was smiling at the camera and giving a thumbs-up, a pair of black sunglasses framing his short black hair. He’d gone shirtless in that picture. Damn, he looked way better a year ago than he did now. He was still somewhat tone, but he’d definitely grown a bit of belly fat. He needed to get back to the gym.

As the song changed, and even more people started dancing, Jimmy realized he just couldn’t snap himself out of this funk. Honestly, he kind of just felt like going back to his dorm room and playing Final Fantasy or something. He’d thought that partying would maybe pull him out of this low point, but it wasn’t looking like that was going to happen. And so, as Marcus got up and began chatting it up with some smoking-hot Latina in red hot pants. He decided to sneak out of there and take an Uber back. This just wasn’t his night.

And then she sat next to him.

Right away, Jimmy knew that the girl who’d just plopped herself down on the couch beside him was anything but normal. For starters, she might’ve been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she was also one of the strangest he’d ever seen, too. Her ears were perky in a way that almost looked surgical. Was it a cosplay or did actually look that way naturally? They were pointed and oddly shaped. Seriously, she looked like an elf or something. And her eyes were such a deep, rich color of green. She also had golden hair, which ran down the back of her neck and formed a ponytail, and she was well proportioned to say the least.

“James Green,” she said with a smile. She raised her pointer finger and began waving it at him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

He lifted his own pointer finger but turned it upon himself, staring at her questioningly. “Me?”

She nodded. “Yes, indeed. I’ve spent a great many years of my life trying to find you: or someone like you, at the very least.”

Someone like me…?

Her mannerisms and way of speaking were incredibly bizarre. Though she spoke in clear, easily understood English, she had an accent that he’d never heard before and sounded like nothing he could recall. And his university was pretty diverse, too. He’d heard accents from just about every European, Asian, and African country that there was—but he’d never heard anything like this before.

“Who are you?” he asked her, becoming intrigued. For the first time in two weeks, something had genuinely caught his interest, and it was helping to take his mind off Dianne. “And how do you know my name? Have we met before?”

She smiled at him. “My name is Eilea. Eilea Vayra.”

“That’s a…that’s a unique name.” He laughed, making himself more comfortable on the couch. “I like it, though. Very interesting. Has a good ring to it.”

“You’re very kind,” she said. “You certainly have the type of temperament I’m searching for, human.”

“Human?” he asked, raising his right eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re, uh, ‘in character’ right now?”

“Hm?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, never mind.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but his attention was diverted as his friend, Marcus, called out to him from just behind the couch. Standing beside him was the Latina he’d been hitting on and what looked like her sister.

“Hey, Jimmy, come here a second. I wanna introduce you to someone.”

Jimmy opened his mouth questioningly, then closed it, unsure of what to say. He paused a moment and pursed his lips. Then he pointed. “I was actually just in the middle of a conversation with Eilea.”

“Huh? Who?”

He again pointed. “Her,” he said. Then his mouth dropped open in confusion as he looked beside him and realized there was nothing there but an empty section of the couch. “She was just…she was just right here.”

“You fucking tripping,” Marcus said. “How much acid did you take?”

“I didn’t take any,” he said.

“Say cap.”

“Bro, I swear. I didn’t take any. You know what?” Carefully, so as not to knock over the multiple drinks on the table, he got up from the couch, checked to ensure he had his phone and his wallet, and then turned around. “I’m not feeling right tonight. I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Awh, man, don’t be like that. Jimmy, man, wait.”

“I’m just not feeling great. I need to clear my head.”

Even as he hurried his way out of the suburban home and headed into the street, he could still hear his buddy calling out to him, and so too did the other three guys he’d come here with. He’d just have to explain things to them later. He wasn’t feeling great. And so, eager to be alone, he opened the front door of the house and then stepped outside, shutting it behind him. Then he took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He was really hitting a low point, wasn’t he?

“Hi again,” said a voice to the left of him.

He flinched. “Y-you!” he stammered. There she was. That same girl from before. “Where’d you go?”

“I never went anywhere,” she said.

“But you…you were sitting on the couch next to me.”

“In some ways, yes, but in others, no.”

Okay, Marcus was right. Either I’m tripping or she’s tripping or we’re both tripping.

Jimmy tried his best to figure out what kind of angle this “Eilea” was playing, but she had him really confused. Was she into him? How did she know who he was? And why had she split the moment Marcus had come over? Was there even any point to asking her these questions? This girl clearly liked to present herself as something of an enigma. And that was before she started to make things really weird. Now, as she began to speak, Jimmy wasn’t sure what the hell to make of her.

“You have the mutation I need,” she said to him. “You’re perfect for the system. Or you were perfect would be more accurate. Only a tiny number of unmodified humans can adapt to it. Had it not been for tonight, you would have begun to discover you were different from your friends: that you could do things they couldn’t. You and those like you are the basis of what made all of us. At any rate, I can’t interact with anyone if it would change the course of events. Changing the past is impossible, Jimmy. So my options are very, very limited. But you…you really are perfect. You can aid him in ways that no others can. The system has never had a natural before: someone born with the gift and not derived from it.”

Yeah, she’s nuts.

Jimmy smiled at her. “That’s great, Eilea. Uh, I gotta go. Have a good one.”

He began to walk away, and she grabbed his arm—and she was strong. Far stronger than any girl he’d ever before met. She was able to stop him right in his tracks. And despite trying to tear his arm away from her, he couldn’t.

“Just answer one question, and I’ll let you go.”

Becoming frightened, he nodded his head. “Sure.”

“If you knew you were going to die today, would you want a second chance at life?”

“If I answer, will you let me go?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least the question was easy. Jimmy nodded. “Of course I would. No one wants to die.”

At this, she smiled. And it was at this point that everything finally began to make sense. Someone—and he didn’t know who—but someone had clearly laced his drink. They’d spiked it with something. Because out of nowhere, his entire body began to shine with a dim, blue glow, which lasted for nearly ten full seconds before disappearing.

“You’re welcome,” she said to him, releasing his arm and slowly walking away.

He stared at her, open-mouthed. “For…for what?”

“For saving your life. Now please: be well, James Green. Oh, and if you find yourself lost and confused, tap your right shoulder four times and read the note I’ve left you.”

He didn’t even bother to ask her any follow-up questions. The girl was clearly out of her fucking mind. So instead, he merely remained where he was while he watched her walk away slowly down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of an intersection at the end of this block. Jimmy shook his head. Not only was this woman out of her mind, but it appeared that so too were her friends, because the girl was intercepted halfway down the street by another woman, this one wearing a white coat and carrying a small book in her right hand.

“You do not belong here, Eilea Vayra,” she whispered. Jimmy was only just able to hear her voice.

“Out of my way, Rose. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You touched the fabric of reality again. I felt it.”

“Do not speak to me as though you are any better or have some kind of moral high ground, you wretched fox. Begone from my sight!”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Do not come back here again, Eilea Vayra. Return to your own time, and do not interfere with mine. If I should find you here again, I will take it as a provocation. This is the last warning you shall receive.”

“Or?”

“Or I will destroy your world and everyone in it.”

Women these days, he thought.

Not wanting any part of this, Jimmy called for an Uber on his phone’s app, which for some reason had decided to set their meeting point one block over and down the street. Despite it being late at night, and despite this being a quiet, calm community, he nevertheless did his due diligence and checked both sides of the empty street before crossing. Then he took several steps into the quiet night—and it was at that point that the roar of an engine came abruptly from somewhere off to his right. Jimmy froze, watching in confusion and shock as the driver of a white SUV blew right past a stop sign, going over 80MPH on a 25MPH residential street.

Right where he stood, Jimmy was struck down.

The last thing he saw was a pair of bright headlights, and the last thing he heard was the sound of screeching tires, and then there was nothing but darkness. A pitch-black void of nothingness. But also, there was sleep. He was at rest. For a long time. He didn’t know how long. An hour? A day? A year? He lost all concept of time.

But then he awoke. And boy, did he awake with a start. He suddenly came to realize that he was surrounded by something on all sides: by dirt. Where was he? What had happened? He felt like fear was burning a hole through him as he began to struggle. Never had he been so afraid. He kicked and flailed and thrashed around until, a moment later, a bright, intense light from above began shining down upon him: the sun.

“Where am I?” he screamed, terrified. “Marcus? Dave? Hello?”

It soon became apparent that he was somehow beneath the ground. He’d been buried, but not deep. Now, only his head was sticking out of the dirt. He appeared to be in some kind of empty field, and it was broad daylight, where previously it had been almost midnight. What time was it? And why was it so hot? It was the middle of winter. Also, was he…was he naked?

Screaming, with tears now forming in his eyes, he used all of his strength to push himself upwards and out of the soil, which had been covering him. And indeed, he was truly naked as the day he was born. Oh, Jesus. What was happening here? He tried to calm himself. Surely, he must have just been high. That had to be it. But this was the scariest trip he’d ever been on. His body was filthy and covered in grime and dirt. Where was his clothing? Where was his phone? His wallet? Where was he for that matter?

He looked around. He was in a crawling position. Pushing himself back up to his feet, he discovered he was in some kind of tomato field. But other than this large, open stretch of farmland, there was nothing and no one else around—except for a small town that he could just make out far into the distance, likely over a mile. Terrified, confused, and slowly beginning to wonder if any of this was real, he hurried his way through the exhausting heat and uneven terrain as he made his way to the only sign of civilization in the distance.

Where am I? How did I get here? Where’s my clothing? Where’s my friends?

As he began to move, he found it somewhat difficult to walk. His legs weren’t working properly. It was like they’d fallen asleep. Yet, with each step, he did find it somewhat easier to maintain his balance. He also felt like something was weighing him down. Several times, he had to check to ensure he really was as naked as he felt, because there was a weight sitting on top of him. He was sure of it. Either that, or God had decided to mess with the gravity or something, because he definitely felt heavier all of a sudden.

What was the last thing I remember?

He tried to replay events in his head. He’d been at a party. He’d met a strange woman. An SUV had slammed into him. And then…then what? With a gasp, he considered the possibility that he’d been assumed dead and buried while not actually being dead. Maybe they’d made a mistake or something. But then, wait, where were his injuries? Inspecting his body, he saw no sign of trauma or anything. Goddammit! What was going on here?

Hurrying farther along the tomato field, he eventually came across a small gravel path, the tiny rocks hurting his feet as he stepped on them. Thankfully, this small path turned into a narrow, smooth, and paved road, and at long last, he made his way into what appeared to be a small, but pleasant-looking town with a hopefully friendly community. With each step, things became more real, and he became less convinced he was tripping. This had the effect of multiplying his fear and confusion. He needed help. He needed someone to call his mom or his university. Or someone.

The streets were mostly empty despite all signs pointing to this being a lively, healthy town—albeit one with a very strange name: The Cursed Grounds. With an ominous name like that, Jimmy was tempted to turn around and head back in the other direction. Yet he knew that wasn’t a viable option, because he was already becoming badly dehydrated, and he felt like he was being cooked in his own skin. Naked, he began to drip sweat out of nearly all of his pores.

Up ahead and to his left was what looked like a bar with a red sign out front that said “OPEN.” Eagerly, he scurried over to it and opened the door, stepping inside. Thank God, there was at least air conditioning in here.

“Please, help me,” he said upon entering.

Immediately, twelve sets of eyes turned in his direction. All twelve of them belonged to gruff, rural-looking people who had been watching some kind of fantasy movie on TV about a dragon or something. He wasn’t familiar with it. Yet as they set their eyes upon him, he began to wonder if he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. Here he was, in the middle of a rural town, naked, alone, and among a bunch of middle-aged and older-looking white folks, and in a place that did not look like home. This might not end well for someone who looked like him. Shit, this was exactly the kind of situation his mom would have told him to never be in. Maybe he should just turn around and—

“Oh, Gods, are you okay, sir?” a woman asked, hurrying over to him. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like that wasn’t going to be an issue. Wetting his lips, he tried to speak, but no words would come out. He realized he was now so parched he was struggling just to form words. Incredibly, a man came over with a blanket and wrapped it around him, while the bartender handed him a large glass filled with water, which he downed immediately. Now, as he began to speak, it was a struggle not to form tears in his eyes as they began asking him questions, such as who he was, what had happened to him, and if he needed them to call someone. As it were, he had some questions of his own he wanted answering first.

“What state am I in?” he asked them, which in turn received only blank, empty stares. They clearly spoke English, so he wasn’t sure why they were looking at him as though they had no idea what he was talking about. Wetting his lips, he decided to try something else.

“Scratch that: what country is this?”

“Country?” one of them asked.

He nodded. “I’m an American. Where…where is this?”

Again, more blank stares. But a man wearing overalls and a farmer’s hat did give him at least some reply, though it only made things even more confusing. “You’re in The Cursed Grounds. In the region of Whispery Woods.”

“So…Canada?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Huh?”

He moaned. “Damn. What’s going on?”

Each of these kind, older people exchanged glances with one another. He didn’t think they were messing with him or trying to confuse him. They genuinely did not seem to understand what he was talking about. He wasn’t sure how this was possible, but then again, they were pretty rural. Maybe this was some Eastern European country or something.

“Okay, look, do any of you have a phone I could please use?”

As if eager to oblige, almost everyone produced a cell phone, and all offered it willingly to him. Honestly, this was a much better reception than the one he’d expected to receive when walking into the place naked. “Thank you so much,” he said. “I’m gonna call my mom.”

He took the first phone that was handed to him by a woman wearing a white summer dress—then stared at it in absolute confusion. “Uh, is this an Android or an Apple?”

“A what or a what?” she asked.

Giving her a sidelong glance, he said, “You know, your phone.”

“It’s a GalTek A900. My husband got it for me for my birthday.”

“How do I unlock it?”

“Unlock it?”

He released a sigh that bordered on a whimper. “Okay, I just…I just really need to make a phone call.”

“What’s the number?” she asked. He told her. And this earned him yet another confused stare. Somehow, he didn’t think it was due to concerns over it being long distance.

“Sorry, I’m really confused,” he said. “Was there something wrong with what I said?”

The woman turned her head and looked at a man, who Jimmy took to be her husband. “What’s the region code?” the man asked him.

“It’s 718. I’m trying to call New York.”

“New…York?”

“Yeah. Brooklyn.”

“Brook…Linn?”

He groaned. “Ya’ll telling me you don’t know what New York is?” Every one of them nodded. “None of you? Really? No one here knows about New York?”

“I’m sorry, son, but I’ve never heard of it. Are you from South Bastia?”

“South what?”

The man scratched his chin. “Maybe…maybe we should call a doctor.”

Jimmy rubbed his forehead, becoming frustrated. “I’m not crazy. I’m just confused. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m here. I just wanna go home and tell my mom I’m okay. That’s all. Then I gotta get back to my dorm, ‘cause I’ve got an exam this Friday, and it’s a quarter of my grade.” Becoming even more stressed, he used both hands to massage his face. “I don’t even know what day today is, come to think of it.”

Finally, even without meaning to do so, he’d somehow asked a question that they appeared capable of answering. And when they did, he did not like what he heard. “It’s Saturday,” a woman sitting near the back of the bar said.

“Saturday the what?”

“The fourth of June.”

“That’s impossible!” he shouted, unintentionally causing the two people nearest him to flinch. He quickly apologized and lowered his voice. “It’s February, isn’t it? February eighth.”

“Son, I…I’m sorry, but it’s not,” the husband of the woman who’d loaned him her phone said. “Today’s date is June 8th, 7058.”

Now, he did whimper. “Sorry, it’s what?”