People had told him the area was run down, but even he was stunned by how dilapidated the building was. The entrance was down some rarely traversed alleyway, and the peeling paint and crumbling masonry informed anyone walking past that this place had seen better days, even if those better days were fifty years ago.
But what confused him the most was the building’s blacked-out windows. Mainly that whoever had blacked them out had done a stunning job. You couldn’t see even a single speck of light from inside. And this made him deeply uneasy.
However, he pulled on the straps of his backpack and took a deep breath. He wasn’t here for aesthetics, and it wasn’t like he could wander into any store to get this done. He pushed the building’s dented metal door, only to be surprised by how easily it swung open, but before he could mentally process the smell, his nostrils were hit with the stench of fried electronics and stale oil.
Inside the room were a few old grocery store shelves, each piled high with random bits of half-broken electronic equipment. Wires and capacitors littered every surface and several parts of the floor, making it hard to know where to step. However, as the man started to move, a buzzer rang out, causing him to freeze mid-step.
The man’s heart skipped a beat as he waited to see what the buzzer heralded. After a few seconds, a woman emerged from a room that sat behind the counter at the far end of the room. She was clad in filthy overalls and had welding goggles perched atop her hair. “You could have shouted, you know,” she said as she leaned on the counter and stared a hole into the man. “What do you want?”
“I,” started the man as he stepped forward, trying to avoid the mess on the floor. “I heard you can do good stuff with.” He continued, pondering every word slowly, worried that someone might be setting him up. “Make things?”
The woman scrutinized the man for a couple of seconds before smirking and letting a chuckle fall from her lips. “Entity Forms. Yeah, I make them.” She said before snorting, clearly holding back more laughter. “No need to act like a narc dude. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Right,” sighed the man, the woman’s mockery denting his pride as he slipped his bag off his shoulder. “And I’m sure she told you,” he mumbled.
“She?” Asked the woman as she picked a screwdriver and started to idly fiddle with it. The man dropped his bag on the counter with a thud, the noise echoing and reverberating off the dingy walls.
“I’m sure you and she are in cahoots,” replied the man as he tried to regain his social standing. “You buy from her and then have to come to you to get it built.” However, this just made the woman laugh again.
“You would be wrong. Not that she isn’t a very attractive lady.” She said as she reached under the counter and pulled out several trays. “I would shoot my shot, but I fear we have unreconcilable differences with aesthetics.” She continued as she spread the trays out across the counter. “I can’t see us going to Ikea and finding a mutually agreeable lounge set, you know?”
“Right,” nodded the man as he slowly unzipped his bag, unsure how to react to this woman and her radiating cocky arrogance. He hated to admit it, but he knew he didn’t have power here, and she wouldn’t let him take an inch. “She was a strange person.”
“It takes a special type of lady to be a curse collector. Especially one like her” nodded the woman before pointing to the bag. “So, what did she get you?”
“A disc,” answered the man as he pulled a cheap plastic jewel case with an old CD inside of it out of his bag and held it before the woman, almost like he was presenting a holy relic to an ancient priest.
“Wow,” exclaimed the woman as she motioned towards the tray. “Interesting choice. Most people gravitate to analog mediums, but I think I’ve got the parts. Especially as I’ve mostly been doing VHS-based ones recently,” she explained as she glanced around the store, clearly earmarking parts. “What did she tell you was on here?”
“Why do you need to know?” Responded the man quickly, suddenly becoming defensive. The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly having had this conversation more than once.
“Because I need to know what I’m building. Discs skip. The last thing you need is a skipping disc if you’re trying to fly.” Explained the woman, sounding like she had endured this conversation hundreds of times before. “Come on, Avenging? Tormented? Discordant?”
The man looked around for a few minutes, unsure how much information he should share. But once he saw the woman staring a hole into him, he realized he didn’t have much choice. He had to speak or leave. “Discordant,” he whispered gently. “Apparently was rampaging in some old mall before it was put in here.”
“Right,” nodded the woman as she sucked in air between her teeth. “Gonna cost you.”
“I expected it to,” sighed the man. “How much?”
“Got any parts?” Asked the woman as she carefully organized her tools on one of the other trays.
“I’ve been chatting with a guy online. Says he can get me a CD player and some speakers and,” started the man, reaching into his pocket. However, before he could continue, the woman raised a finger.
“You don’t have parts,” she said firmly. “Seriously? A Discordant curse in some dude’s worn-out old Walkman that he’s not touched for 15 years? Are you asking to get yourself killed?”
“But,” started the man, only to get interrupted by the woman again.
“You can buy the parts from me. Specially machined parts, strong enough to do the job. Out of respect for the Curse Collector, I won’t take any other option.”
“So, you do work together,” huffed the man, feeling like he had been conned.
“Girl has got to eat.” Growled the woman as she stared daggers into him. “I’m not letting her reputation get soiled by an idiot like you. Getting devoured by your own Entity Form? Really? If you’re that desperate to hurt yourself, there is a multistory car park three blocks down you can jump off. At least then, you’re the city’s problem, not mine.”
“Fine,” mumbled the man as he shook his head. “Whatever you think is best.”
“Great,” smirked the woman as she walked to a shelf and started to pull off various old CD player parts. “I’m glad we can see eye to eye on this.” She sarcastically added as she carried a pile of stuff back to the counter.
“So, how long will it take?” Asked the man, feeling emasculated by this whole exchange.
“As long as it takes,” muttered the woman as she pulled her welding goggles down. “But feel free to take a seat while you wait,” she said, motioning to a battered and oil-stained chair at the side of the room. The man didn’t really want to sit there, but at the same time, he didn’t want to argue. It was abundantly clear that debating with this woman wasn’t helping his cause at all.
So, he sat in the chair for several hours, watching as the woman went from counter to back room and back again. Fiddling with wires and various bits of metal as she did. Whenever the woman entered the back of the store, the sound of welding or heavy machinery echoed around the old storefront. The man was curious about what exactly lay behind that door. But he realized that checking would likely lead to him being shouted at again, and his confidence couldn’t handle another tongue-lashing.
Eventually, the man zoned out, his mind wandering as his glazed eyes blankly watched the woman work. But, after another few hours, the woman brought a covered tray out of the backroom and looked across at the man.
“Hey,” she said with a grin. The man took a moment to pull himself out of his blank state, his mind slowly refocusing on the present. But the second he came to, he moved quickly, keen to see what she wanted him for.
“Is it done?” He asked as he approached, keen to not draw the woman’s ire, lest she not hand the device over to him.
“All done,” shouted the woman as she lifted the cover to reveal a mass of wires and strange meters connected to what seemed to be a heavily reinforced portable CD player.
“Wow,” mumbled the man as he reached out to grab it, only for the woman to slap his hand away.
“Pay up,” she shouted as she turned her palm up. “Two K.”
“Fine, fine,” nodded the man as he pulled money out of his pocket and put it in the woman’s hand. The woman smirked and pulled the cash close while gripping the tray with her free hand, making it clear she was prepared for anything he might attempt. Her eyes quickly scanned the currency, obviously checking if it was legal tender.
Once she finished, she put the cash in her pocket and pushed the tray forward. “Right,” she grinned. “Put the disc in here,” she added as she pointed to the player. “Then put these resonance wires on your forearms, chest, waist, and thighs. When you press play, the spirit will be released, forming your Entity Form. Should be a full transfer of power, so whatever she could do, you can do.”
The man nodded as he glanced over the mess of wires, slightly confused by what he was looking at. While it made little sense, he could at least understand what the woman was getting at.
“This,” said the woman, rubbing her finger across a red button. “Is the key bit. If you get worried, press it. It will detach the player and totally lock it down, preventing disc removal and activating an internal salt bomb.”
“How do I get the disc out after doing that?”
“You come to me, and I repair it.” Replied the woman. The man rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply but got cut off before he could say another word. “Look, it is that, or you let a Discordant curse burst out and roam around. It will go for the first victim in range.” Added the woman as she extended her finger toward the man. “That will likely be you. Trust me, you want a strong failsafe. I’ve seen better men than you die to this stuff.”
“Fine, fine,” groaned the man as he shook his head. He picked up the device in his shaky hands and then put it in his bag. “Anything else?”
“Nothing comes to mind. I’ll be here if you need me.” nodded the woman as she leaned on the counter. The man sighed and made his way to the exit, returning to the embrace of the dark night once more. Once he was out of sight, the woman picked up a notebook and pencil from under the counter and mumbled to herself.
“A Discordant joining the war. Might be good for business. If he lives long enough to generate any anyway.”
Jonathon Greenall is a freelance writer, artist, and tabletop roleplaying game designer who has written for CBR, Polygon, Nintendo Life, Gayley Dreadful, Enbylife, and many other publications. They have also published several popular and highly-praised tabletop roleplaying games including “You Have One Ability….The Ability To Fuck This Up,” “Macarons, Milkshakes, And Magic,” and “Wander Wizards.”
Jonathon has always been fascinated by media, from the big hitters to the small, obscure, and often overlooked titles that linger on the sidelines, capturing both the on and off-camera stories that make these shows so fascinating.
Jonathon is also a major anime fan, having been exposed to the medium through shows like Sailor Moon and Revolutionary Girl Utena. Since then, Jonathon has maintained a passion for anime, watching most new shows each season and hunting down overlooked gems from previous ones.