The city is alive

"That's the thing about this city, it is alive"

"Yes, it's lovely here." "You don't get it. I mean it is truly alive.

"Yes, I know, so lively."

"You know nothing. Listen:

 When I moved here 27 days ago, I wanted a quiet life in a small college town with a good theatre and the woods close by. This town provided all that and more. It was animated, bursting with activity and life. Intoxicating. Affordable housing- easy to find the perfect place. Miraculous. And the people. - So friendly! No matter if running, walking the dog or bringing the kids to school, everybody greeted me with a genuine smile on their faces. No traffic jams, smog, nightly fights, vandalism, burglaries, the police just walked around leisurely eating freshly baked buns and homebrewed coffee. Even the bus drivers were cheery. Which was the first thing that made me suspicious.

Bus drivers aren't friendly. As a rule. They specifically seek out their profession to get paid for being miserable and grumpy. It's a requirement. A happy bus driver is an oxymoron, like an old baby or a chaste prostitute. I knew something was wrong.

So I started to listen. Birds chirping, wind whistling through green branches, people chatting amicably, and underneath, something else, something... THUMP---THUMP---THUMP---like a very low very slow heartbeat. If I listened even harder I could make out a slight contraction followed by a subtle expansion. HHHHH- CHHHHHH--Like breathing in and breathing out. The city was breathing.

"I--I see. You are...—maaa-, mad, how nobody ever noticed." "Peculiar, isn't it?" –“…We are living in a city that is truly alive. No wonder everybody loves it here.” "Yeah, well. Look. If something is alive it needs sustenance. --It needs to feed.--" "O.k, so....?"

"So tonight I set out to find out more about its eating habits.

I carried my usual tools: silver bullets, slingshot, Rubik's cube, towel(striped), several packages of peanuts, 3 cans of lager, goalkeeper gloves(still don't have a mechanical thumb), garlic, crucifix, Swiss Army knife, gum, shoestrings, matches, paper clips, birthday candles, duct tape, salt and bread.

I knew where I had to go: The heart of the city. I had googled it: This Hotel, built December 17th 1770, the birthday of the city's most famous musician. Coincidence? I don't think so.” “Um,…--“- “Let me finish:

As soon as I stepped out of my house, I could tell that the city was trying to slow me down.

My legs felt heavy.

 "This couldn't have had anything to do with all those tools you were carrying?".

"No! ---

I fought against the physical sensation that dragged me down and walked down the sidewalk when I heard it: A wheeler. -" "What?"--"A car was following me without making any sound." "But you just said, you heard it..." "SILENCE! —

 I jumped into the next hedge and after a while, it went away."

"Maybe an electric car? They tend to make very little noise." "That's what the city wants you to think. But all those cars are the city's Spies." "Now come on, be reasonable. Cars are just boxes on wheels. No brains." "That's what they want you to think. As soon as I saw the lights of another spy approaching, I spat the gum I had instinctively stuffed into my mouth and chewed vigorously on the road. The wheeler passed by without hesitation but: --it left a very clear imprint on my trap. -- Voila! Here it is." "Please take that off the table." "But it's proof!" "Please!" "Alright, you still don't get it. Why do you think it is so silent at night?" " Um, because people are sleeping and birds are hugely day-active?" Wrong. Because the city hunts at night." "You are crazy." Am I? Why are there next to no homeless people at night? No prostitutes in the streets, no criminals on the loose? They are her food." "Her???" "Her- the City." " Oh, and all of a sudden it's a she." "She is. Breathing, preying, feeding on the low lives whose disappearance hardly anyone notices." " Only you." "Only me." 

"Well, now that I know that you discovered the truth, I might as well be frank."

"I knew it!"

 "Yes, you've got good instincts. This is not a hotel. This is... It's --our headquarters."

"At the heart of the city. Very Clever. And I take it, you are not the Hotel's Manager?" No, I am-- they call me Doctor Shiwago." " A Codename?" "Yes." – "So, are you her servants?" "Y--Um, no, we are her-- enemies. We are trying to fight her." "I see. How?" By-- starving her. We are keeping the people off the streets." "That is genius, I thought I had to defeat her all by myself and hadnÄt yet worked out how exactly to proceed. But your plan strikes me as brilliant. Lock them up to keep them save." "Um, -- yes." "Can I join you? I am quite the fighter." " We would be delighted. Let me call the wards to show you to your room." " Here? Couldn't I work from home?" I am afraid not She knows about you, you are not safe." "Can I quickly go home and fetch a few things?" "Too dangerous. She knows you are on her trail." "True. She'll kill me like all those others. Alright, I stay to fight her. Thank you." "Don't mention it. Ah, here they come. Gentlemen, this warrior wants to join our secret society. please show him to his room." "Sure Doctor. - Mam, if you would follow us?" "Wait, when will be our first mission? Will you notify me?" Of course, I will agent. Now make yourself at home in your cell." "Cell, I like that, good disguise." “ Thank you. Oh, and gentlemen, make sure to get her into our special rubber quarters and help her straighten her jacket”. “we understand Doctor.”

(Behind the closed door receding:)

“Very clever disguise, if I didn’t know better, I’d think we were heading for the Closed psychiatric ward…”

I know, it’s a bit harsh to lock her away for good, after all, she is just a poor crazy lady armed with beer, peanuts and chewing gum, right?

Or is she not? What if she was right and all the rest of us were deluded? God, I am turning into one of my patients if I am not careful. Alright, I am heading for Bedfordshire. Night night.

---THUMP---THUMP---THUMP---