Withdrawal

“Green?! Green!?” We find ourselves again with dear Wicked. Who after several days of normal pleasures consisting of traveling through Liberation Land, enjoying a read in the gardens, and even taking in an afternoon of free theatre finds herself in a fit. “NO! NO NO NO NO!” but even as she wailed she knew, she always knew this would happen. Hot tears run down her grassy cheeks as she stares wide eyed into her broken mirror. She isn’t nearly as green or vivid as before, but as her blood boils she can feel the color grow. She watches in horror as brown eyes turn green and crumbles to the floor sobbing “how… how could I-” stopping herself in that very instant she rises from the floor. It’s been four long years since she made her bed in the sewers and this wicked witch isn’t about to give up. She moves toward the door grabbing her hat as she races for the cure.
Once out she’s taken aback by the sight-just yesterday everything looked bright, but today everything looks like the town of Blight. Tears swell again “what the fuck did he do to me?” Boots crash against the muck as she finds the yellow bricks. Our witch is on fire now running down the road memories of slick yellow men and the tongue not her own all playing in her head. Her skin is glowing greener, as madness builds she runs deeper and deeper-until the pitter-patter of tiny little feet catch her ears. She sees the yellow glow, hears the disturbing giggles and veers clear of the road.
She’s headed now to the Town Below, the seedy side where the drunks and addicts roam. Wicked doesn’t notice she’s after the tiny feet.
As she runs suddenly one appears a little yellow man glowing, giggling, and singing “if you want another taste-another cleanse of skin-follow me to the place where all your dreams begin!” the sound sends shivers down her spine as she can feel the slick flesh on her tongue.
Deep green lips part “get back here! You creepy tiny little MAGGOT!” but he doesn’t look back, just continues to giggle, as he runs up wood steps and disappears through a shop door. The Clinic. Wicked doesn’t know this place, but her instincts tell her to go.
She takes one step up, and then another, her mind is screaming no. Visions of the blindfold darkness, and the physical memory of restraint near choke her, but she moves on. Green hand on the door knob she throws herself inside, pulling down her hat to obscure her eyes she sees them-FREAKS of all kinds. They’re laid out on couches, the floor and each other. They’re smiling-all smiling. The corners of their lips twitch. They don’t even know I’m here she thinks as she notices a curtain taking the place of a door. Again her instincts scream, but she moves towards it. Pulling it open, eyes shocked to what they see, a yellow, slick blob melting into itself, and a circle of FREAKS wrapped in it, sucking on tentacles of it, molested by it.
Wicked wants to run, wants to wash her eyes with acid, but as she turns to leave a gurgling bloop happens and he’s there.
The yellow man stands grinning though almost translucent “welcome wintergreen, time for another round?
“What the fuck did you do to me?” she ask through her teeth. Her legs won’t work and her body won’t scream.
He looks at her sort of bewildered “I gave you what you wanted”
“Well then why am I green!” Stamping a foot-she can move! Now that she isn’t trying to run her body relaxes, she wants the answers she came for-she wants to see if this FREAK has blood.
Shrugging “unfortunately there’s nothing I can do, permanently. You are what you are and I am what I am-”
“Which is?” She’s pulsating and glowing brightly trying not to remember one more thing.
He laughs watching her intensity grow almost salivating “a dream maker” he winks.
“Don’t-” puts a slick almost airy finger to her lips.
“I live off your energy-and you are quite delicious. Some don’t provide for me, but I can take them places I-”
“You drug them yo-” again the finger falls this time she smacks him away her hand going right through his finger, dirtied and wet with his slick.
“I’m the drug-as you can see” he gestures toward the circle, but she doesn’t look “you can think what you want, but you’ll be back again.”
“Fuck you.” She spits moving past him. Our girl has seen enough, but mostly tears have begun to well and she doesn’t cry in public.
“That would make it last longer” he tempted smoothly as she hears the gurgle and bloop right before he appears in front of the entrance stopping her dead in her tracks “or whatever you’d like. I’ve never tasted anything like you-you don’t have to give up cash-just the taste” someone fell out of their seat behind her, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t look. Memories and tears threaten to shatter her as she can hear the land above “you can be a part of that” he says softly as if he knew-did he?
“Get out of my way”
He smirks “you can walk right through” and so she does feeling the slick of his substance cover her.
She doesn’t turn back. She just keeps walking home. Feeling the corners of her lips twitch as the world appears cleaner, and she knows.

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Just a taste

Peering out from the gutter eyes glow green, a passing dog begins to growl the owner tugging at its lead, and a child sitting outside the small cafe sees the twinkle under the sidewalk. The child stares deep through the gutter bars catching her subject, eyes wide as her tiny mind makes out the visage-green skin, green eyes, wide brimmed hat? The image is confusing, disturbing to the child’s mind and she begins to blubber.
Our Wicked witch flees back below before anyone else could see her, boot clad feet echoing in the sewer puddles. Reluctantly she’s heading back home.
Wicked sighs as she walks lamenting her life, it’s been too long since this girls sniffed between pages. Nothing in the sewers was worth half a shit. FREAKS didn’t read-they drink, but that’s just not Wicked. Removing the glove from her right hand she grimaces-green. Toxic, unnatural-green. A tear escapes her left eye as she just stares at her flesh, still moving. Our girl walks, and walks. Absently entering The Town Below she hears nothing, but echos from the past. She sees nothing, but that toxic skin. Completely unaware of the yellow bricks her feet decided to follow.
She used to be beautiful. She used to have talent. She would have been on the stage. She would have lived normal-but now? These thoughts are what’s crushing her even though other memories keep surfacing she knows, this is her life now. But is there an answer? Could there be hope?
Suddenly she trips. Face first into slick, grimy brick the sound of tiny footsteps all around. She looks up in a panic, yellow little legs dash past in a whirlwind then the sound of inhuman giggling “welcome! Welcome! Welcome!” tiny voices cheer. To Wicked ears though they are all the same. A dozen little men-all the same circle around her.
“Get away from me!” She wails. This is just too much-tiny, glowing, yellow men, giggling like children “get! Get! Get!” She’s standing now.
While the tiny man directly in front of her frowns “well you don’t have to be rude” little hands at his side he kicks out his leg “just saying hello”
Another chimes in from the crowd “thought you might want a taste”
All together “yeah!” Wicked doesn’t know what to do, or what they’re talking about, but she’s seriously disturbed.
The ‘leader’ speaks again “yeah, a taste of something special-for you today it’d be free!”
Another chimes in “it’ll make you feel incredible!”
And another “it’ll make you a lot less green!” The group snickers in their very disturbing way.
“Less green?” She’s interested now. She’d do anything now-until a tiny little yellow man holds out his hand, she recoils. All the tiny little faces frown as the same tiny little yellow man thrust out his hand again. This time she takes it resulting in cheers, they’re all the same person Wicked thinks as shivers run down her spine.
Still circled around her they lead our girl down the rest of the brick road to a little brown shack resting deep within the sewers. They are surrounded by black the only light coming from the yellow glow emitted by the tiny men and of course the glow of Wicked. The stress of the situation lighting her eyes and skin in a brilliant display that’d give most nightmares.
All at once everything is black Wicked cannot see, there is no yellow glow and certainly no green. Reaching out she feels something slick, not wet, not sticky-just slick like oil. She hears a bubble pop, and the sound of muck gurgling and then a mouth covers her own. Eyes wide to no avail-she cannot see! Reaching for her face her arms get pulled down hard to her sides. She cannot breathe. Cannot move. She panics-mind racing our girl fears for her life. She doesn’t give in though, oh no, Wicked knows pain-our girl knows trauma. Memories explode behind eyes as she begins to thrash her head hits a slick solid substance knocking the blindfold just slightly revealing a yellow glow. It’s too late to think, too late to cool down her flesh is burning now. Screaming into the mouth of her captor it’s probing tongue enters her as she is preparing too explode.
She screams and screams.
And screams.
Basically our girl spends about 45 minutes screaming into the slick captives mouth only to grow extremely tired, and limp. She’s let go, dropping down, down, down onto a what feels like a bed. The blindfold fully falls off and she sees the bare mattress she’s laying on, dirty makeshift walls, and the glow-the yellow glow. She pushes herself up hoping to strangle the closest little man she can grab only to find a man, a yellow average sized man, standing, staring, with a grin. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
She flies at him without thinking hands gripping his neck before recoiling-his flesh is slick! “Ugh! I’m going to kill you!” The rage instantly exhaust her as she calls back onto the bed burying her head in her hands.
“I’ve no idea why you got what you wanted.” She looks down at her hands, eyes wide, not green-not green! Looking up the yellow man is gone.