The fructification chamber is where they harvest thoughts… from children, mostly, because they have the grandest imaginations.
They sit, inhaling the drugging vapors, their brains imprisoned within their curious fantasies.
Their dreams nourish the now lackluster world… the very essence of their visions, their hopes, even their nightmares, extracted to create an elixir for the exhausted.
The clients are mostly artists, filmmakers, writers who have lost their touch but refuse to give way.
Surrounded by lazy curls of smoke are rows of orphaned and abducted children.
He unstraps a girl from the chair
and screams at what’s behind the helmet.