Chapter Six. Why are you telling me this?

"Psssst," the voice came at Blissful E. Bear. Its sharp scraping vocal chords were coarse as sand paper. "Pssssssssssssssssssst," It came again. He opened his eyes and saw himself lying on a day bed of some description, floral in design, autumn in tone. The room was terribly luxurious, bright, and sweet smelling like honey. If he hadn't already been a bear he may have felt a little like Goldilocks. He sat up, and panned his eyes across the high ceilings and plastered detail above him. His eyes were still focusing and his vision made it appear that he was watching a 1990s music video with all those blurry out of focus jump cuts, except less arty old men standing in the mud. "Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst."

"Who is that?"

"Down Here," the voice beckoned.

Blissful got up unsteadily, and walked towards the source. "Who are you?"

"You need to get out of here..." The voice was coming from an air vent behind an upholstered arm chair. "The man you attacked is holding you in highest contempt of the society."

"So how do you do intend for me to do that gravel throat?"

"You will need to change your clothes. Quickly, hold your hand against the mirror to your left."

Blissful walked over to the mirror and stared at his button nose, brown eyes and his father's sharp ears.

"Put your hand to the right side as if to push it."

Blissful did as he was told and pressed his paw to the glass. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because the less you know about us the better," the voice rasped.

"Believe me, I'm way ahead of you."

The mirror emitted a high pitched squeak and then clicked forward and began rolling to the side. Behind was a maroon robe with a hood, a translucent crystal key and a pair of cherry red Docs. He quickly disrobed and put on the wine-coloured cloak.

"What now?" he asked.

"Go to the green door to your right and use the key."

He hurried towards the door and fumbled with the crystal.

"You need to swipe it length wise along the scanner."

Blissful did as he was told and heard an affirming computerised beep. He pushed the handle and found himself in a mammoth auditorium. There were thousands of people all in hooded robes laughing and drinking wine, eating bread at long dinner tables like something out of the final supper. He pulled the hood over his head and tried to blend in. Walking through the crowd was almost impossible, they were like lemmings. Milling around, drinking, dancing, fornicating, others just salivating. He had never seen anything like it. He came to the punch table and ladled himself a big scoop of the orange-coloured liquid. He stood there, shrouded by his hood, mesmerised by the scale of hedonism before him.

"I told you not to go home," the same voice from before whispered harshly to his right.

"You have to be more care-fied," a second voice came at him.

Blissful turned, and found himself staring straight into the eyes of Jerry and Nord.

JH