| Tachigami |
01-03-2013 08:49 AM |
(Part II: End)
Jack stands and stretches, glancing toward where we came from. “Well, they ought to have you and the other two ready to be carted off. Want to go take a look?” He seems almost eager. I, however, am a bit apprehensive. I mean, on one hand, a morbid curiosity burns and demands I go. But on the other hand, the prospect of seeing my own corpse, along with those of the girl and the cashier, chills me.
“I, eh... I don’t know.” I say at last. “W-wouldn’t they see us? I mean, you say we’re not quite ‘dead’ as in spirit-based entities, so we must be... visible, in some way.”
“Oh, of course, but considering we’re technically dead, we can transition from corporeal creature to spirit-based entity. While this happens, we can walk unseen by the living, obvious only by a slight chill to the air, so we’ve overheard.”
“How do I do that?”
“Focus, Calvin. You can feel your energy, focus it, concentrate on what you want. You’ll see the world shimmer for a minute, like you’re looking at it through a foggy window, and when it clears, you’ll be invisible to the living.”
“Seems too simple...” I sigh. It’s like a movie. It’s always ‘focus, and you’ll get what you want’, or ‘focus and your power will awaken’. But I do. I concentrate. I feel my power. It warms me from the inside, emanating from my chest and making the slight ache from the gunshot wounds seem to simply vanish.
“It doesn’t need to be hard.” Jack assures me. “You’ve done it. Now you can pass through solid objects, people, and manipulate items with a movement or two. That is, if you’ve got enough power.”
I look down to myself. Nothing seems to have changed, but I don’t feel pain anymore. The world looks normal, but it seems as though a thick fog has fallen over everything. “Okay Cal, come on.” Jack puts a hand on my shoulder, and leads me back to the gas station. As we pass through an alleyway Dumpster, I feel a tingling run through me while I regenerate. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but I’m sure I can handle it later on. Police tape has already been put up, and various vehicles are scattered throughout the parking lot. Including two coroner vans. I pause, and feel an involuntary shudder go through me as I witness one of the gurneys wheel out. I can’t identify the body, but I don’t need, nor want, to. My imagination generates myself lying there, zipped up from the world, ready to be carted off.
Jack glances around. “You okay?”
I nod, bite my tongue, and step close to a small gathering near the door. One of the women is speaking: “... of the same four that are targeting small businesses. Doesn’t look like much was taken, and they didn’t even crack the safe.”
“No surveillance videos?” One of the men asks.
“They took every tape.” The female officer replies. “We don’t have anything.”
I step back, ignoring what the man replies with. If they have no video of the event, what is there? The shooters hadn’t touched anything, so there were no prints to pull. Their boots had looked like generic work boots, all male, even the ones worn by the woman. They’d shot us all, and left nothing. Jack steps up beside me. “Best to get going.” He says. “You may be too tempted to show yourself.”
I nod, feeling defeated. It’s true that I feel I could offer some insight. At least what these people look like. But I allow myself to be led away, though I don’t see when someone approaches us and walks right through us, forcing me to gasp as a chill explodes through my body, and they pause, shudder a bit, and mutter something about the cool breezes in the evening air. We walk down the road a ways, until Jack looks to me and notes to return completely to the world of the living. I do with little challenge, and it’s as if I’d done this all my life... Or, death, perhaps? No one is around, anyway, though as the fog fades away, I think I see some dark shadows flitting about before dissipating.
“You saw the demons.” Jack looks at me. I hesitate, feeling unsure of whether I should nod or ask what he meant. But he takes the silence as a chance to go on: “They’re the shadows you’ll see when you’re transitioning between the world of the living and the dead. When you’ve fully transitioned, you’ll see them in their entirety, especially after you’re fully formed. They’ll attack when you’re in transition because you can’t see them yet---be prepared for an ambush.”
I nod, and Jack pulls me along. In silence we walk, for what seems like hours, and Jack simply wanders, as though the world doesn’t matter to him; his face is relatively blank, turned toward the sky. It’s as though he can see something I can’t, and when I look up, I find the sky is darkly shrouded with clouds. He can’t possibly see the stars. I study him, and he suddenly turns to me, forcing me to stop without even raising a hand. “You need a place to live.” He says simply.
“W-where?”
“The Elders set up housing for Messengers. I’ll have to take you to the council to get you accepted.”
“Council...? So, I might not be accepted to be a Messenger...?”
“Oh, no doubt you will. I sensed a power within you, and I’ve sensed it in several others. Each time they were amazing Messengers, and survived for decades, but one day, were smited.”
“S-smited? Like killed!? I didn’t think you could be killed now that...?”
Jack shakes his head, and puts his hand on my back, leading me on again. “Messengers can die. They can be killed by anything not of the living world. If we’re shot, stabbed, run over, burned, poisoned, or anything else by a human or human-made item, we’re just fine after a while. But if we’re mortally injured by a demon, we’ll be forced into a black abyss where we float, unable to see, hear, or speak, as if suspended with only our thoughts.”
“How... do you know? If you’re stuck there...?” I clear my throat. It feels dry considering the general tensity winding my body tight.
“An Elder once made it there, and returned. Using his power, he opened a doorway to this world and stepped in. When he returned, he described the sensation.” Jack’s face falls suddenly. “He... became reckless after that. He was enormously powerful, this Elder. He decided to go after the origin of all demons, their creator and mother, and of course, he fell at her hand. He just didn’t watch himself. I almost think... he wanted to die.” Jack pauses, and I stop too. He looks distant, lost, and doesn’t even see when I wave my hand in front of his face.
He stand there for a long time. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t even seem to be of this universe anymore. As if his consciousness was pulled from him, leaving a statue. Then he blinks, shakes his head, and sighs. “But that was... a long time ago.” He says. “Come on. Too late to go to the Council now!” Jack steps off, and I follow quickly. But the nagging won’t leave me.
“Jack. Was that Elder your friend?”
“Yes, of course. I loved him like... a brother, I guess. A siamese twin attached to me. He said I might one day become an Elder, even in his place.” Jack chuckles, and shakes his head again. “I don’t think so though. I’m still not as powerful as I ought to be. Ah, here we are!”
We stop in front of a large, two story, Victorian-style house. I find elegance in its beauty, the dark way it’s built. Accented here and there with dark oak. “This is where you live?” I ask.
“No, no. This is where you live!”
“Me!?” I laugh out loud. “I figure you’re a joker, but really, Jack---I love this house too much to find it funny.”
“Then don’t find it funny.” Jack pushes me toward the tall iron gate surrounding the dwelling. “That’s where the last of my partners lived. When one Messenger dies, a new one takes their place, and therefore, the new one takes their home.”
“That’s... efficient?”
“Oh, very!” Jack laughs, and digs in his pocket. “Here.” He hands me a key. “This is to your new house. Go in, take a look, I’ll be back at six in the morning! Then we’ll have all day to clear things up, eh?”
I nod, and Jack pats me on the shoulder, crosses the road, and starts along another one that branches out from the one I’m standing on. I push through the gate, go up what I assume is a brown-toned cobblestone walkway, and onto the wrap-around covered porch. It’s definitely a beautiful place, and when I look around, I’m only ever more amazed. It seems the previous occupant loved updated everything. A large plasma television sat above the mantle of a dark stone fireplace, and comfortable-looking purple-upholstered couches and chairs, hardwood floors, and bookshelves all over. The dining room is to the left of the foyer when one walks in, leading into the kitchen; its appliances look to have been stainless steel, only the steel was swapped out for copper, and beside the door that leads to a large pantry, a sunroom sits wide open to a back yard. Upstairs, four bedrooms house large beds, and one is, instead, an office-library crossover. The hall bathroom and ensuite is magnificent, as I’d expected it to be, and the basement, accessed by a door in a small alcove in the living room, is finished, and is a sitting and entertainment room.
I don’t take more than a few minutes to enjoy the fine interior before taking to my new bedroom and falling onto the bed. It’s soft and even, unlike the old mattress at my... old home. While everything is so beautiful, I can’t help but feel a bit of emptiness. Even peeling out of the old, dirty, somewhat bloody clothes doesn’t help me feel any more at home than I would if I were back with my mother and little sister. All throughout my exploration of this castle of a home, I could feel a little smile on my face. But now... that smile’s faded. Holly was probably staring out the window, waiting for me. It’d be well past her bedtime by now. Maybe Mom called the police. Maybe the police were already at the door... I run a hand over the two bullet holes on my chest. They could do with a little plugging but... I’m so tired. Maybe I’ll wake up, and this will all be a bad... a bad dream.
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