Walpurgis Touch

If you should find this letter, then that means I was not around to get rid of it. My name is Gavin Krier and I have had… a “time” … I guess is what you could call it. All the same, I intend to leave this

letter in case my “experiment” does not work out. What you’re about to read will sound downright bonkers but I will write what I have experienced all the same… and as best I can. Even I find this whole thing insane… but even so… this is what happened to me…

Three years ago, I found a new job and quit drinking my favorite energy drink. After years of working in retail, all while studying coding on the side, I finally found a job in a tech company. Before I knew it, two and a half years passed and I had been working happily as a coder. Sure, there were trying times but I enjoyed the work. Hell, after working retail, any job seems better, right? Well… things were going good… but then… my favorite energy drink just started… appearing out of nowhere.

Now, when I say “appear” it’s not that I was seeing advertising for it EVERYWHERE… I mean more it just kept popping up in front of me. The first time was at my usual super. As far back as I could remember it was always at the back of the huge store in a random fridge. However, I found that more displays of the drink had been put up. At the front of every aisle and cash register were walls or blocks of 500 milliliter cans of my once favorite energy drink. Called “Walpurgis Juiced – Crazy Cherry,” I would end up downing three a day while working retail. Being a horror and cherry lover I just couldn’t resist such an unorthodox can back then. What’s more, it had a cherry flavor that was just too good for any energy drink to have. However, once I landed the tech job, I got it out of my system and made the switch to green tea. Even going so far as green tea/seltzer when the weather got hot. As such, I did not think much about it when I saw it en masse like that… maybe thinking, “oh, that’s different,” but that was pretty much it. My addiction to it was over. That said, my encounters with that red and black can did not end there.

The next day I found the tech company I was working for had installed a Walpurgis Juiced vending machine. Sure, there were the other flavors like “Assassination Apple” with its “Assassinate your thirst!” logo on the side… “Hemorrhage Orange” … “Grapple Grape” … and of course, “Crazy Cherry” … to top it off, it was even cheaper than usual.

“We landed a discount,” I heard one of my coworkers say happily. Even at this point I thought it strange that so much was going on involving this can. That said, again, I cut ties with this can. Sure, it

might be near but I wasn’t going to have any. So I just wrote it off as a coincidence and went to my desk. However, here’s where the freaky stuff happened.

Not even 30 minutes after the vending machine had been installed I “found” a can of Crazy Cherry in my hand. I could have sworn I had just gone to click on my mouse… but I found its shape awkward

and cold. Years of having worked on a computer has allowed me to grab my mouse without looking… but now I was forced to look… and found myself grabbing a can of Crazy Cherry. As if I had bought a can and forgot to put it down before grabbing my mouse… but I know I didn’t.

“Want one?” I asked one of my coworker friends as I offered him the can after looking around to get rid of it.

“‘Want one?’ what?” he asked me, confusedly. It then dawned on me that the can was gone. Sure, my hand looked like it was holding a can but, looking at it, it was empty.

“Ah, sorry,” I said as I tried to get back to my work. Cautiously grabbing for my mouse… and finding I was actually able to grab it. Relieved, I knew I had written the whole thing off. Thinking “I must be tired,” or “must have been just my imagination” … oh, how wrong I was.

As the days, weeks went by the can would just appeared out of nowhere. Putting my hand on a railing… grabbing for my phone… grabbing my refrigerator door… every time I seemed to reach out

or grab for something… I would somehow find my hand around a can of Crazy Cherry… which occasionally caused me to trip or fall… and after three months I found myself on the verge of a nervous breakdown if not going crazy altogether. No, that didn’t happen until I “attempted” to “have fun” with my girlfriend Belinda.

God knows why this was happening to me but no matter how I tried to reach out to her all I felt was cold aluminum. Freaking out, I tried asking her if she could see the cans on the bed as I looked down at her. Her, laying on the bed, with at least a dozen cans surrounding her. All of them wet with condensation… but she said no, even though I could see them. Eyes wide open… like a madman… but

at that point I couldn’t care. It was then and there that I lied to my girlfriend… saying that work had been rough lately… and that I probably needed a break and see a therapist. Hearing this, she was

supportive and understanding… God bless her… and I went through the motions of finding a therapist. After about an hour of searching, I found a Doctor Hendrickson and scheduled an appointment at the earliest time. Noon.

I know therapists generally just let the patients talk but I don’t think I let him talk at all for the next hour. I just spilled my guts out. Everything that happened. All of it. I even went so far as “making” the can appear… which it did… but, as usual, he couldn’t see it… I even asked him a question but just interrupted him with another… and another… and another… I honestly felt like I was losing it. Before long I was basically gasping for air… and it wasn’t until I was gasping for air that the doctor finally spoke:

“Is it at all possible that you just miss the flavor of this… energy drink?”

“No!” I screamed at him, my voice cracking. Realizing this, I then apologized and repeated my answer but much quieter, “no.”

“You said before, let’s see,” he said as he scrolled through his notebook. Some 20 pages. Seeing this I had a feeling he would’ve been a great journalist had he not gotten into psychology first.

“That you had been drinking that particular energy drink for 3 years?” he asked me, calmly.

“Yeah,” I said, almost ashamed at the number.

“And yet you broke your addiction to it. That’s great. Tell me, before all this happened, did this energy drink scare you?” he asked me.

“No,” I said after taking a deep breath, “the flavor and the energy boost it gave me really helped me out when working retail.”

“The work can certainly be monotonous,” the doctor admitted, “is it at all possible you’re feeling the same way about your current job and that is why this, ‘Crazy Cherry,’ has been appearing?”

“Oh, no. Sure, it’s a lot of typing, but I enjoy coding. I love typing things up and seeing my work afterwards. No, I don’t think the work is dragging on me.”

“I see,” said the doctor as he wrote in his notebook, “is it at all possible some event or other occurred that ties to this drink?”

“No,” I said without hesitation, “I considered this before but I couldn’t think of anything. I even looked through the Seattle Times online archives and found nothing related to the store I was working at the time,” I admitted.

“I see. Well, you’re certainly thorough,” said the doctor, impressed, as he checked his wristwatch.

“I’m afraid our time has been up for about half an hour… would you like to schedule another appointment?” he asked me, his interest genuine.

“Yeah, if that’s okay… Doc?” I asked.

“Yes?” he replied, his concern just as genuine.

“Am I going crazy?” I couldn’t help but ask him.

“Well, considering what you have been seeing all this time, I am sure anyone would,” the doctor confessed.

“However, what’s important is that you are seeking help and I certainly will do all I can to help you.”

“Thanks so much, Doc. Really, thank you,” I told the doctor, feeling actual relief.

“Do you think you could prescribe me anything?”

“Oh, well,” the doctor replied, a little taken aback, “I usually don’t prescribe anything to new patients… but considering everything I will provide you one,” he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a form.

“I will prescribe you some haloperidol,” he stated before handing me the form with his signature, “take this to my assistant and she will help you.”

“Thank you… so much,” I said as I felt I was about to cry.

“You’re most welcome. And hey, there’s a reason for this. And we’re going to find out what,” he said with confidence. Feeling relief, and a little bit of hope, I left his office and spoke with his assistant. Getting prescribed a 1-month prescription. With this, I was feeling confident and planned on taking my first dose as soon as I got home. I just had to be sure I didn’t have an accident on the way there. My near unbridled joy may have given me a small case of lead foot.

Finally home, and in one piece, I looked at the label:

0.5 to 2 mg orally 2 to 3 times a day for moderate symptoms.

3 to 5 mg orally 2 to 3 times a day for severe symptoms.

I whip out a large glass from the kitchen cabinet and down 3 tablets. At least 3 milligrams. I then tested to see if the can still appeared when I reached out (in this case, over the kitchen counter)… which it did. Without hesitation, I then downed the pills and water and tried it again. I doubted they would kick in that quick but I just had to test it. Motioning my hand as if reaching over the kitchen counter again… and the can still appeared. It was in this moment I felt something breaking inside me… that threatened to be hollowed out. All the same, I killed some time and took the next dose as I was supposed to.

Same result.

I go to bed, alone, telling my girlfriend it would probably be best to stay with her parents for a little while. She seemed okay with it. Understanding even. But it also felt like there was a bit of a distance

between us that wasn’t there before. I’m sorry Belinda, just a little while. I swear.

The next morning though, even after taking 5 tablets with breakfast, the can still appeared… and my nervous breakdown came out in full swing… and I was admitted to Cascade Behavioral Health just before noon… and ended up spending two months here… but the can still follows me. As I toss and turn I find myself gripping cold, moist aluminum. Even though I haven’t reached out for anything I see the can in the corner of my eye. Always disappearing before I can confirm I saw it. But at this point, I know it was there. It’s become as part of my as sunrise and sunset. No… even more than that… it’s become pervasive… ever-present… like air… and I wasn’t going to last much longer. That said, the answer couldn’t be simpler… What do you do with a drink? You DRINK IT!

And such is why you are reading this now… assuming I didn’t survive this one drink…