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When Vessel lays down, he doesn’t expect Sleep to come easy. She’s been just as restless. He can feel it deep within his wary bones and in the way the stars have started to fall apart in the night sky.
That’s really the obvious sign here, isn’t it? They all have the same dream. Each one stands in an open field looking up at the night sky. Then, the stars fall and break apart before exploding in flashes of color. II, III, and IV all think it’s a message of sorts. Vessel thinks it’s a dark sign. Sleep’s power is growing.
The others have given into it.
As night falls, the group is on a train. The room they’re in is by no means a piece of heaven but it’s luxury all the same. There’s a bunk bed bolted to the far wall and a single bed bolted to the floor beside that. II and IV have climbed into the top bunk and are hidden by the dark’s shadows and the comforter. No doubt II is curled next to IV and IV no doubt has his arm around II.
Little drum, big guitar.
Vessel smiles at the thought just as III comes in from who knows where. He’s holding a wine glass of something red, sparkling, and chilled. He walks over to Vessel, sets the glass down, and crosses his arms.
“What you smiling at Vessel?” Vessel jerks his head upwards. III looks to the top bunk and groans.
“Did they take the top bunk? Don’t smirk like that- fuck you- we had a deal! Don’t give me that look Vessel. They can’t just- I mean I suppose they can. It’s kind of cute to see them- okay, okay stop with the eyes, man. I’ll take the bottom bunk.”
With a calm demeanor and nothing more than a raised eyebrow, Vessel defuses the argument for another day. III rolls his eyes, stalks away, and takes off his shirt. Vessel waits until he’s tucked himself into the bottom bunk before taking the glass.
It's a classic red, from Blossom Hill, a brand the band likes. Vessel downs a big gulp and turns back to the window. In his reflection his white mask glows and the red symbol shines.
Technically, Vessel doesn’t need to wear his mask right now. But something is telling him he needs to. He’s in his Outfit, too. The loose pants, the bare-foot shoes, the wraps on the lower parts of his leg. No shirt, just his cloak and fur. He’s cold. In this room, on this train, there’s a chill. It’s not the train, though.
It’s Vessel.
It’s Sleep.
She’s calling. Vessel watches the stars blink out one by one. And suddenly there’s knocking. His head jerks to the door, but he’s watching the tracks, the rails, in his periphery. When Sleep appears, he doesn’t miss it.
She likes to tease, to play first. When all the stars are gone, Vessel witnesses a scarlet trail begin to appear next to the tracks. It follows the train until it reaches the space under his window then b-lines into it. It should say something about Vessel that his only reason is a flinch. His elbow bumps the table, and the wine glass knocks over.
A veil comes over his vison. The glass is now a goblet of gold, dripping red like blood. And a figure stands beside it with their head tilted. It’s a much shorter version of Vessel, with a comically large smile.
“Hi,” the figure says.
Vessel says nothing.
In the city the train passes through, a streetlight goes out. The train goes into a tunnel. It’s as dark as it can be, but Vessel can see with perfect clarity. The short Vessel reaches out and rights the glass then cleans the spill with a white cloth. Then, they reach out a closed fist.
“An offering, if you’ll accept.”
Should he?
Shouldn’t he?
II, III, and IV have given in… they’ve changed.
Vessel places an open palm under the closed fist. Something light and plastic falls into it. And then the knock comes again. When Vessel looks to it and looks back, the shorter version of him disappears. Then, a bright flash of something red and Vessel snaps back to reality. His head jerks up as if he had nodded off. In his fist is a bracelet of colorful plastic beads and some white ones with letters. Vessel brings the bracelet closer to the light coming from the window.
An offering, they had said.
The train stops, a crow squawks in the distance.
II, III, and IV had said it was a message. Vessel reads it.
You are so loved.
Gods, he hopes so.