Francis of the Filth Page 5

  Frank studied his companion closely. His face was rimmed as though by a tight circle of light and his head occasionally gave a mild twitch. He seemed serene but occupied.

  “Who are you?” Frank asked.

  “My name is Freygarður Geirtryggur Þjóðleifur Lúthersdóttir.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “I'm also known as Pink Guy.”

  “I think I’ll go with Pink Guy.”

  Frank assumed in the gray hues of that place that his flesh, in the right light, had to be a shade of pink.

  “Listen carefully, Frank. Life as we know it, in all it’s fullness, is to now be revealed to you.”

  “Speak on, dear friend.” All of a sudden the gravity of the situation made Frank start to speak like an idiot.

  “All life and matter is contained within three known omniverses, each of which contains any number of universes. The omniverses are divided into dozens of dimensions, and each dimension is divided into millions of realms.” He looked at Frank to see if he was comprehending. The pink creature spoke with a voice that seemed not his own. Indeed, in most other realms, he would only have been capable of communicating in a series of grunts and squeals, but here he spoke with a somber tone and a beautiful timbre.

  “Are there any black people in these omniverses?” asked Frank.

  “What do you think?” asked Pink Guy. There was a pregnant silence before they both burst out laughing.

  “This really must be the future then,” laughed Frank. Despite being flung into an unknown world of darkness, Frank’s garbage 1940’s humor stayed intact.

  “There are many lifeforms throughout the omniverses, Frank,” the pink character said returning to sobriety. “Many. And these entities essentially fall - or are placed - into one of seven Tiers of Being.”

  “Who decided that?” Frank asked. Pink Guy ignored this question as one of utter stupidity. He continued. “The bottom tier contains the Wretched. The Wretched are those who have been confined to the abysses and the infernos. They exist but only in a form that knows suffering and pain.”

  “I’m guessing these hands…” he said gesturing out to the sea.

  “Yes. They have been condemned.”

  “For what?”

  “For …,” he struggled to find the right word. “For damages.”

  Frank looked off the edge of the rock, as one of the many wretched humanoid shadows swam towards him, reaching out with those skeletal hands, asking for another chance. Its mouth opened, but nothing came out. Frank could feel the warmth leaving its body as if its soul was being chipped away by the second. He quickly broke eye contact.

  Pink Guy saw Frank’s discomfort and cleared his throat. “The second tier from the bottom contains the brute beasts. Lower than humans and other humanoid creations, they exist but in a lesser form and with nominal consciousness. They can neither be elevated from their level nor condemned from it. They toil all their days as servants of those who exist above them. To those above them they are dominated and pitied. To the Wretched, the Beasts are free and secure, and the envy of their sorry souls.”

  As he said this, Frank continued to watch the knotted limbs stretching up from the black sea. He was still not entirely comfortable with this entity before him and so watched him with a cautious eye. “The third tier,” Pink Guy continued, “hosts the mere mortals. You would be familiar with these. A somewhat sad and conflicted mob, they live a quasi existence in worlds in which they procreate and kill, create and destroy, love and hate. No-one really knows quite what to do with them. There’s minimal intervention at this point. They are a sort of work in progress.” Frank looked down as he heard this. “I was trying to make the world a better place,” he mumbled. “Mm,” said Pink Guy. “By melting flesh.” He moved on without another word.

  “The fourth tier (and fourth from the top) are the rankenfiles. This includes entities like you and me, Frank.”

  Frank looked up, perplexed. “I’m not a mere mortal?”

  “Far from it, Frank. You are a rankenfile. What's more,” he looked intently at Frank as he said this, “you are the only one who has ever transcended from mere mortal to rankenfile. Suffice to say, there is a lot of interest in you.”

  “I’m the only one?” The corner of Frank’s mouth broke into a proud grin. “That makes me kind of special then, doesn’t it?”

  “Whether this turn of events is fortunate for you or unfortunate, is yet to be determined. I strongly suspect the latter.” Frank’s shoulders slumped at hearing this. “I warn you that this situation has developed not necessarily to your advantage.” He looked at Frank with steely eyes. “That’s why I was sent to you. I have come to get you before…” he grew nervous and his voice trailed off to a whisper “…before others do.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Why would you come if you didn’t know?”

  “I felt compelled.”

  “How did this happen?” Frank asked. “I didn’t work for this. I didn’t seek it out or want it.”

  “It’s impossible to tell. Maybe you were just in the right place at the right time (or the wrong place at the wrong time); maybe you are a pawn in a plot orchestrated by higher powers; or it’s possible that you were never even human from the start.”

  Frank pondered these possibilities. None of them appealed to him. “So, I’m a rankenfile,” he mused. “What does that even mean? How am I any different from a mere mortal?”

  “Rankenfiles can appear in many different forms - including humanoid form - and are able to travel between omniverses, dimensions and realms.”

  “How?” Frank asked.

  “It’s what humans would call… chromosomes. Chromosomes are everything beyond the world you were living in. Chromosomes are the universal means of currency, time, travel and power. When your chromosomes began to multiply, you became a full rankenfile and this made you both an asset and a target. Your chromosomes are still progressively multiplying at a dangerously fast rate. Entities will fear you and hunt you for your chromosomes. And whenever they are used, sold or stolen, you will need to replenish them quickly or terrible things will happen.” He paused before looking out over the iceberg they were sitting on. “I know,” he said forlornly.

  “The fifth tier are the chimpillas. The chimpillas are powerful. They travel the realms shadowing the rankenfiles, pursuing them for their chromosomes and pressing them into their service.” Pink Guy began to sweat as he said this. “They are many and they can be savage.” He was whispering now and looking about as though simply uttering a name could bring devastation. “Several of them are pursuing me ruthlessly and have sworn to pursue you as well. There is no escaping them. They will find you. All you can do is delay it for as long as possible and hope that you can escape without too much loss.”

  “Chimpillas?” Frank asked. In a flash Pink Guy had his finger to his lips. “Say nothing of them.”

  “But who are they and why would they want my chromosomes?” Frank wondered.

  Pink Guy continued, dismissing the question as more mindless drivel. “The sixth and seventh tiers are shrouded in mystery. Nobody in the tiers below can say, with any certainty, who or what reigns in these two tiers (or even if there are two tiers). Rumor has it that the sixth tier belongs to the peace lords but few would even dare to state that publicly.”

  “The peace lords?” Frank repeated. “I’m guessing the chimpillas are the bad guys and the peace lords are the good guys?”

  “Then you guess like a moron. Some chimpillas are good, others are evil and some are yet to make their allegiance known. What you have to understand, Frank, is that there are hostilities in the omniverses. And loyalty is currently a very fluid notion. The peace lords are extremely powerful yet no-one knows where their allegiances lie, certainly not us and perhaps not even amongst the peace lords themselves. Some are the very essence of evil, yet wrap themselves in light. Others are pure
goodness, yet veil their loyalties with clouds of darkness and deception.”

  “Who is at the top tier? Who has supreme power?” Frank was agitated as he asked this.

  “The top tier,” said Pink Guy. He stopped there, lost for words, and Frank looked at him agog.

  “Tell me about the top tier! You’re here to reveal this to me, right? Who or what is at the top Tier of Being?” Frank glared at Pink Guy as he asked this. Pink Guy appeared reluctant to speak on, as if revealing any such names or identities or titles or presence could see him instantly thrown amongst the Wretched. “At the top tier,” he said with a holy awe, “if the stories are true, is the Ultimate God.” Pink Guy held Frank’s tricep tightly and pulled him near to conclude his revelation. “We think the Ultimate God is Chin Chin,” he whispered firmly in Frank’s ear. Frank sat in wonder as he heard these words. “The Ultimate God,” he mouthed. “ Chin Chin!”

  “Or so we think,” whispered Pink Guy, leaning in again. They both sat there in reluctance. “The Ultimate God is the creator, the owner, the Lord of all. He is The Great One.” Pink Guy paused again. “But the peace lords are becoming very powerful and they are uniting and amassing many chimpillas to serve under them. They have an untold number of chromosomes in their arsenal and they are rebelling against any force that opposes them. No-one knows anymore where the real power might lie. No-one knows who is in control.”

  He lowered his voice back down to a whisper again. “The tiers are shifting,” he said, excited and horrified. “The natural order is changing. More and more entities are resisting their innate position and are storming other tiers. They do this by stealing chromosomes. It’s the ultimate moral depravity. And it can, in effect, not only elevate them to higher tiers but potentially alter the constitution of others, destining them to lower tiers.”

  “But the peace lords,” said Frank. “Won’t they condemn those who do these things?”

  “As I said, Frank. The tiers are shifting. Dimensions and realms are warping. This has never happened before. The omniverses no longer have the order that we once knew. Some are even becoming too powerful for the peace lords. Frank,” he said looking about. He reserved his greatest gravity for this summation: “Some are contesting the Ultimate God.”

  The air in which they were sitting suddenly felt colder and damper. There was not a breath of wind but Frank felt a coolness run across his brow.

  “One more thing, Frank.” He looked at Pink Guy. “ Chin Chin himself is coming for you. Your transition has provoked him.”

  “Do you mean he is coming for me to get me, or he’s coming for me to help me?”

  “Frank, you are completely expendable and Lord Chin Chin will spare nothing to get your chromosomes to secure his own position. Believe me, the Wretched will have nothing on you. Once Chin Chin is done with you, you will wish you were swimming in that abyss.” Frank swallowed hard. “That’s why I’m here. I’m here to protect you from Chin Chin; to take you to the furthest realms and deepest recesses of the omniverses to keep you from being found.”

  Frank sat in silence, processing all this. The iceberg they were sitting on remained static and the sea around them continued to display its silent agony. What Frank said next took Pink Guy completely by surprise. “I don’t want to be a rankenfile.”

  “What?”

  “I want to go back down to being a mere mortal. I want to return to what I once was. I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t want to be hunted by Lord Chin Chin. I want to go back.”

  Pink Guy snapped at him. “It’s too late for that, my friend. There’s no turning now. You are what you are and you must live the life that you now have.”

  “Why? Why does it have to be too late? You said yourself you can’t be sure what the upper tiers hold. The peace lords are still powerful. They might very well be forces for good. And what of the Ultimate God, whoever he is? Why wouldn’t he have the power and the inclination to restore me? Between them all, there must be a way. Surely they can make me mortal again. They can stop my chromosomes from multiplying and return me to the life I had.”

  Pink Guy wanted to ignore this as another sentiment of monumental idiocy, but he could see how determined Frank was. “That might be true,” he said. “But what is possible is not the same as what is probable. And the whim of a rankenfile is no match for the will of a Lord.”

  “I want to meet one of the Great Powers,” Frank said, as though stating a universal right. “I want to meet a peace lord.” He paused again, processing, and then he came out with it: “I want to meet the Ultimate God. I want to plead my case.”

  Pink Guy shook his head. “You’re such a damn fool. You understand nothing. Leave that idea right now, I tell you. Leave it and have nothing more to do with it.”

  Frank stood and wiped his hands on his shirt as though to signal cessation in the matter. “We can’t stay here forever,” he said. Pink Guy rose with him. “Let’s see what else this place has.” They walked off without another word, side by side, yet the conversation trailed behind them like a chest being dragged by a chain. They passed along slippery narrow gullies with jagged icy daggers protruding at head height, and small stalagmite formations under foot. The landscape would change in appearance but not nature. They walked along broad open glacier-like fields, climbed walls of glass and stepped down into bulky gorges. Yet there was never a sound, nor a smell, nor a sense of fear or excitement. It was as though they were in their own bubble, separated from all other life and matter, all other sentiment and spirit.

  Whilst there was no point in staying put, there was, clearly no point in continuing either. Eventually Pink Guy spoke. “I have co-ordinates for you Frank.” They stopped walking and faced each other. “These coordinates will take you to a safe place. It’s right off the grid. No-one will find you there.”

  “That’s not necessarily good news,” Frank returned.

  “It’s good news for now,” he said looking at the limbs reaching up from the expanse around them. “Just recite them as I give them to you, and create the same circle of blood and you will be taken there.”

  “And what about you?”

  “My work is done.”

  “You’re not coming, too?”

  “I don’t have enough chromosomes to travel further and this place allows for no more replenishment.” He looked stoic. “This is the end of the road for me. They will come. They will find me.”

  “You came to warn me on a suicide mission?”

  “Suicide, no. But there is no more life ahead for me. My future ceases to exist here.”

  Though he barely knew Pink Guy, and he had never really cared for anybody before in his life, hearing this was like a stab in the chest.

  “I will come back for you,” said Frank with a newfound ethic.

  “It will be too late. They will find me here before you return and they will condemn me without a moment’s hesitation.”

  “Use my chromosomes,” Frank insisted. “If you use mine, then we could both go through.”

  Pink Guy shook his head. “That wouldn’t leave you with enough chromosomes to travel on if you needed to. And that would be a very dangerous state to be in.”

  “But the place I’m going to is safe, right? I could stay there until my chromosomes replenished and then move on.”

  Pink Guy considered this with caution. It made sense but it was not part of the plan.

  “I have no idea where I’m going,” Frank continued, “what to do there, or when and where to move again. I need you to come with me. Surely we’re safer together?”

  Pink Guy squatted before his new friend, deep in thought. “Let’s go then,” he said looking up. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Frank. “You will need to cut your hand and create a circle of blood around us, as before. I will recite the co-ordinates.”

  “What if you get the coordinates wrong?” Frank asked casually, almost as a joke. Pink Guy responded with a look that shook Frank to his very core. “Then heaven help us,” he said
breaking out into another sweat.” This passing question of Frank’s led to a flurry of others which suddenly took him to dark places. Who was this Pink Guy really? How did Frank know he could trust him? What if he were one of the lackeys of an evil peace lord? What if he were a peace lord? What if he were Chin Chin himself?

  Frank, caught up in the moment, came right out with this last question and barked it to Pink Guy’s face.

  “If I were Chin Chin,”he retorted, “I would have stolen your chromosomes and finished you off in a flash. You would be bathing with our friends right there in the sea of infernal suffering.”

  Frank, still breathing heavily, looked Pink Guy in the eye. “Good answer,” he said through clenched teeth. “Good answer.” Frank walked over to a shard of ice and ran his hand along it. The life force flowed freely from the wound. He returned to Pink Guy who had already begun reciting the co-ordinates. Frank made the crimson circle around them both before standing back-to-back with his comrade. Over and over Pink Guy called the numbers and letters, louder and louder, with increasing zeal. Frank prepared for destruction. As Pink Guy continued to call, Frank continued to brace. On and on he called with a voice that rose up over the sea. It soon reached fever pitch, bursting with prolepsis.

  Then suddenly, he slumped. “What happened?” asked Frank.

  “I don’t know. It’s not working. Nothing’s happening.”

  “Are sure you got the coordinates right?”

  “Are you sure you used the right blood?” Pink Guy shot back, offended.

  Frank began to move from his spot and as he did, he felt the squelch of soft ground beneath him. “It’s soft,” he said.