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he day was as perfect as the sky.
An almost azure blue canvas of billowing white cumulous clouds that floated lazily across the ether. Set ablaze at their edges by a sun of dazzling brilliance.
The wind was a gentle breeze, caressing the birds and the leaves in the surrounding trees. And the temperature couldn’t have been finer if it were embracing a tropical paradise…
Eric Hawthorne
--In the Moment
THE DARKNESS WITHIN
PART ONE
An evening at DAVNER’S Cabin
1
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ennifer Nichols reveled in the feel of the wind softly blowing her silky blond hair back as it lightly breezed through the back passenger window of the dark blue Ford Explorer XLT 4x4. The XLT was pulling a four-sided trailer with provisions—mostly cases of beer, for a weekend at Davner’s cabin.
The Explorer was headed in the direction of Ottercreek, it’s final destination would be a two-story cabin ten miles beyond, that was designed by Tyler’s father, Owen Davner over fifteen years ago.
Jennifer was pushing her head over the passenger’s door window divider, feeling the sun on her face, she acknowledged that it was a beautiful day--the Summer’ Solstice, and she suspected it would be a beautiful weekend, perfect for camping; even if it was going to be done mostly inside a cabin with all the comforts of home.
“That’s not “camping”.” She heard the voice of her mother telling her. “Camping is when you have to “rough it”, and suffer things like going to the bathroom outside.”
“Sorry mom, but the cabin has indoor plumbing.”
“That’s not “roughing it”.”
“Oh—well… I guess I won’t be “roughing it” then.”
Jennifer was currently attending her first year in college at Kilicut Maine University; her Major was Computer Programming, as she eventually worked her way toward her ultimate goal; a PhD in Engineering. With the striking looks of a Centerfold, Jennifer could easily have been a model if she chose to. But she didn’t cater to that “vanity shit”, and she wanted to do something with her mind, something challenging, certainly she had the intellect for it, and intimidated most guys as a result. And she preferred that, over posing for a bunch of men she would never—or care to ever see, just to make a living.
Lanny Conive on the other hand would have no difficulty posing for men that she would never see in order to make a living. She was wild-spirited and quite the exhibitionist at times; taking off her top at the drop of a hat and throwing it to the wind, exposing firm breasts, no smaller than honeydew melons. But rather than be a model, she would choose to be an actress, if the opportunity presented itself, and currently she was attending Springvale’s Acting Studio in hope to prompt her in the right direction. At the moment she was wearing something that looked like the cross between a bikini and a woman’s sexy undergarments mating; her top looked like a white bra that was covered by what appeared to be a red laced bikini top, what covered her fine ass was something along the lines of frayed stone-washed jean, cut in the fashion of bikini bottoms, and slit up the side just for more appeal, contrasting this was her black—what she like to call her—fuck me boots.
At the moment the blue-eyed brunette beauty with the trendy blond streaks was sitting next to Jenni, while she casually rested her head on Jessie Pruit’s shoulder, light sounds of snoring drifted from between her lips, as it was almost a three hour drive from Springvale to Ottercreek, and Lanny had been up all night the previous evening.
There was no commitment between Jessie and Lanny, they weren’t even dating—although Jessie would have very much relished for that to be the case. Jessie was a good- looking young man of eighteen, with dark hair and blue eyes, standing about 6’1” and reaching for a scholarship in football, and it looked promising. He figured if he scored on that Lanny would look at him twice.
(Lanny doesn’t care if you get a scholarship or not. She’s not even attending college.)
Another part of him suggested that Lanny already had looked at him twice. After all she was resting her head on his shoulder. But then again, that could just be her cock-tease promiscuous nature; with Lanny it was always difficult to know when she was being sincere. Was the word even in her vocabulary? He rolled his eyes as the beauty rested her head on his shoulder, trying to distract himself by thinking of other things beyond the girl next to him.
Between summer, school, and his free-time, Jessie was working construction with the Beverly Brothers. But after three months with them he was having second thoughts about the company that he was working for. It seemed, after a time, like a fly-by-night construction company. Always late with his pay-check, lax attitude on the job; the boss, his brother, and partner would spend too much time away from the site. Oh, sure. They were always getting lunch, or running an errand. But they always seemed to be going to some place obscure and out of the way to do it. And although he never saw them drinking beer or smoking dope on the site, there were telltale signs that suggested that might have been the case.
What it came right down to when push came to shove was that it was difficult finding a legitimate job that put integrity and professionalism first. Everyone seemed to be trying to play an angle or cut corners these days. Either that, or he just wasn’t lucky in finding the right position yet that he could appreciate.
“I need some cigarettes,” Shannon told Tyler who was currently steering the Explorer down the long open road.
“I think there’s a Quick Stop about five miles up ahead,” Tyler told Shannon.
“Get some beer,” Brandon called from the far back seat, he was resting his legs on a duffel bag and a cooler, and smoking a joint. The sweet smell of marijuana filled the small area where two young men were sitting.
“Right, beer-run,” Jason added from the far back seat where he sat across from Brandon. To Brandon he said, “Don’t be bogartin’ that joint, man.”
Shannon was a salesperson at McKane’s Jewelers, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do with her life. If nothing upcoming inspired her, she supposed that she would go right on being a salesperson, as she was doing very well in that position—or maybe she would choose to be a regional manager, or perhaps even owner of her own store; like her boyfriend Tyler who, had been voted “Most Likely to Succeed” in high school. To this day she believed that it was the skiing accident two years ago at Redoubt that messed up his head a little and somehow gave Tyler the notion that he no longer wanted to be a doctor. It wasn’t a tragedy any way you looked at it; when Tyler was in his junior year of high school he had already owned and operated a computer store, while his father Owen owned four car dealerships, in Springvale, Portsmouth, Portland, and finally, Salem Massachusetts, with over a thousand units of new and used cars. So anyway you looked at it, Tyler would come out smelling like a rose; if his computer store failed, then he always had his inheritance to look at, which would of course be ownership of his father’s dealerships.
2
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TFN. That was their motto. And although they were pretty sure that the saying originated somewhere in France, no one knew who it was in the group that started saying it first. Life’s a bitch, this said mostly by Raine. It’s a SNAFU—situation normal all fucked up, or SNAFUBAR—situation normal all fucked up beyond all repair (or recognition—or reason), this was Tyler’s. Along with Raine’s “Life’s a bitch”, there was Kim’s, Life’s a sandbox: we never leave it: it just gets bigger. And Brandon’s: “Why do bad things happen to good people…? Because it can.” And there were so many others. As numerous as raindrops or snowflakes. Colorful platitudes, each reflecting one’s vision of life in general. Forever the same, forever changing. If you’re looking for me, I just left. Raine considered the ones that she could cultivate in her mind for the moment, as she followed the Explorer, two car-lengths in front of her. She too was driving an Explorer, hers was red, and it was packed with as many passengers as the one in front of her. Both vehicles were borrowed from Owen Davner’s (Deals) primary lot for the weekend so that fourteen kids could go camping out by the lake just outside Ottercreek.
It’s up to the rose… Raine thought quietly to herself, and for the life of her having no idea where the muse had come from. She didn’t recall any of the gang ever saying something like that. Although it was quite possible that she had read something of Brandon’s; he was always spouting that kind of poetic artistic bullshit. She blinked her eyes and turned her thoughts elsewhere. Primarily to the reason Colleen couldn’t come along on their little trip to the cabin. Colleen and Keith were making fire and brimstone laced with lightning drop out of the sky with their third break-up. Three’s a charm… Raine tried to explain to the younger girl the second time that relationships are like milk: when they go sour you don’t put the milk back in the fridge hoping to improve its quality. But Colleen wouldn’t listen. “He’s changed; you should see how loving he is.” That is until he got to drinking, and then one would think that he was possessed by the Devil to look at him. And he would hurt Colleen; and Raine even went as far as to call the police on the bastard, but Colleen wouldn’t press charges. And now she’s pregnant. It just keeps getting better and better… And she’s looking older; far older than she should for a girl her age. Raine sometimes entertained the notion of an “accident” happening to ol--Keith; brakes on the car could fail…arsenic could somehow be found in his beer—or better yet, his dope—who would know who was responsible…? He sky dives! There could be a tragic misfortune. Or hell—someone shoots him on the street, mistaking him for somebody else. Raine could do it. And she knew that she could get away with it. She was demonically intelligent. No one would be the wiser. But then, she would have to look at herself ten years down the road while she was helping others with their problems as a practicing psychologist. How do you live with yourself then? How do you justify yourself? Your actions of having killed someone? Could an exception to the rule be made?
Debra Buchanan sat in the passenger side of the Explorer, manipulating a Gameboy and listening to her Ipod. She had tuned everyone out. She was in her own little cubicle of induced reality. Beyond this, there was no telling what was going on inside her head; what her dreams or ambitions were.
Behind her, Tina Sweate, Becky Carmichael, and Thomas Thorne, watched the DVD player hanging down between the two seats of the cab; the attraction for the day was: Resident Evil: Apocalypse. The trio loved movies about zombies, especially the ones that were approached in an intelligent manner. They even thought that Sean of the Dead was rather clever. And they absolutely loved Romero’s work—although they thought that Season of the Witch was for shit, but then that didn’t have anything to do with zombies anyway.
Behind them were Katsumi Lucia Lin and Ian Traxinger. They were a couple fresh out of high school, Katsumi had the gorgeous features that could only be produced by an Asian/American, Hispanic/American, and a spice of Greek joining together, she was certainly the most beautiful girl that Ian ever laid eyes on, and he considered himself the King of the World for that privilege. The two had met as junior and senior in high school, Katsumi being the latter, having transferred from Providence, Massachusetts. Ian felt a powerful sensation that was both warm and stimulating in his heart and groin when he first laid eyes on his future girlfriend; it was the kind of sensation that could have easily brought tears to his eyes. Katsumi was wearing an outfit that would make one assume that she went to a private girl’s school; with the skirt and knee-socks, and horsetails falling down both sides of her face, she wore a belt with the ensemble that looked like it belonged with the uniform of a cop, but somehow she pulled off the presentation nicely. Chic. Ian thought she was the epitome of adorable and gorgeous melded into one. Having studied the Asian culture as an extracurricular activity, Ian had a soft spot for Asian women, but Katsumi was truly radiant, and she had the most prodigious eyes of violet and blue!
He wouldn’t have the pleasure of meeting Katsumi the first day that he saw her, but he swore that he would meet her if opportunity presented itself. It did, three weeks later one weekend during the spring at a place called Castle Golf; it was a small amusement park really, a miniature golf-course, with water-slides and bumper-boats, and an arcade inside a structure resembling a small castle, hence the name. It had really been an unexpected meeting; Ian had been playing Arcade’s version of Silent Hill in the castle and Katsumi had just walked up to him and introduced herself. They began dating the following day. Four weeks later they were steady. It’s been like a fine ride on a roller-coaster ever since.
Or so Ian believed.
3
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aine followed the blue Explorer into the parking-lot of The Quick-Mart, a sand-dusted structure with aged gas pumps. She pulled the XLT that she was driving right along side of the passenger’s door as Tyler was exiting the driver’s side.
Raine tapped the driver’s window switch and lowered the window; she called out to Shannon who had her window already down. “Hey, Shan, what’s up?”
Shannon turned to acknowledge Raine with a smile. “I need some smokes, and the little boys want more beer.”
“Christ,” Raine exclaimed. “We got five cases on the trailer as it is; how many beers are those lushes planning on drinking?”
“I guess they figure that until they have a case a piece it won’t be enough.”
“You got that right,” Jason affirmed from the back. He took another drag on the joint and said, “Beer and tokin’--that’s smokin’… Ya’ gotta have the beer with the smoke, ya gotta’ have the bud ta’ toke.” Jason and Brandon burst out laughing.
Shannon looked at them like they had pushed their heads up each other’s ass. Or maybe their own.” That’s lame. You guys are smoking yourselves stupid.”
“And that…is why they call it dope.” Jason declared. There was more laughter.
“Stupid is as stupid does,” Brandon added, taking a toke.”
“Whatever the hell that means,” Jennifer chimed in.
“And remember:” Jason stated. “The light at the end of the tunnel may be your eyeball looking through a microscope…”
“Or it may be out of service,” Brandon warned with laughter.
“Oh shut the fuck up.” Shannon told them voluminously.
“Forget about them,” Raine told Shannon. “They’re just compensating for the fact that they can’t get laid.”
“’Sumwun say “fuck”?” Lanny said sleepily, eyes still closed. She nuzzled Jessie’s shoulder like a kitten trying to get comfortable. Jessie couldn’t prevent the hard-on that surfaced in his jeans.
“Oh—Raine, could you open the back?” Katsumi asked. “I’d like to get a Code Red.” As Raine released the back hatch, Katsumi pushed it open. Sheepishly she turned to her boyfriend as her feet touched down in the lot. “I just need something to suck on,” she said to Ian with a wink and a sultry brush of her tongue over her upper lip. Then she went into the store, and again Ian marveled at the woman whose affections he had won. As slender as they come, she was wearing a light and dark blue-mix floral bikini with a sarong wrap that cut at an angle from her waist to her toes, and blew lightly in the breeze, when she turned around one could see her tattoo that covered her back from neck to butt and coming around about an inch to either side; an extremely intricate and colorful design, that to this day no one has quite been able to figure out; Brandon made the comment that it looked like two dragons mating, and Jason added, “only if they were done by H.R. Geiger.”
She was out three minutes later with her soda in hand.
Tyler came out eight minutes later with two more cases of Budweiser and a carton of Marlboro Lights 100’s. A slight adjustment of coolers and cases of beer and the trucks were back on the road.
4
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he two-story cabin near the pond was built from felled trees, shaved, and glossed to an always-looks-like-new shine. Twelve years ago Owen Davner had the plans for the cabin contracted for a get-away-from-it-all home-away-from-home. It was the perfect location. Ten miles from civilization. The cabin had cost $210,000 to construct, on land that cost almost three times that much. It was complete with running water, generated electricity, and a fireplace. Furthermore, Owen had—for about thirty grand--constructed a waterfall up on Gillian Heights, which was an outcrop almost fifty feet above and overlooking the pond.
Tyler had been up to the cabin more than a dozen times since he could remember; four times with Shannon, three times with the gang, and twice with Nick Steis, the death-metal rock-star.
It was interesting to note that although Maine was notorious for bees and wasps, neither insect seemed interested in making the cabin—or for that matter, the area of the cabin—their home. Something kept them away. Which only added to the enjoyment of the atmosphere and environment up at the cabin. And that was just fine with Tyler, because he hated the little fuckers. Always building hives where they weren’t wanted; either on the front porches of his house, or in the attic. But up at the cabin there were no hives found, none built, it was wonderful, but it was also a little strange.
On June 13th, at approximately one o-clock, the SUVs could be heard coming up the long drive leading to the cabin, gravel crunching between the dirt road and the tires. Horns announced their coming in a manner that suggested that the drivers were letting anyone who might be up at the cabin know that they were on their way. The sun shone warmly across Quaintley Pond.
The Explorers pulled up close to the wide, wooden porch bordering the cabin. The windows shined with their one-way glass, and the pond rippled and gleamed beneath the bright sky, left of the vehicles.
In no time, bodies piled out of the trucks and began grabbing coolers, cases, duffel bags, and other provisions. Debra made sure to unpack her Playstation first, as it was already decided what room she would have, and it came with a color TV.
Food was shifted from coolers to larger coolers and refrigerators inside and outside the cabin. Rooms were chosen--if they hadn’t been earlier that day, and half of the group put on swimwear, the young ladies looking far more attractive then the men—especially Brandon and Jason, whose trunks almost fell three inches passed the knees, or were they wearing cut-offs? As faded as they were it was hard to tell.
It didn’t really matter, because neither one of them was interested in swimming at the moment anyway; instead—twenty-five yards from the cabin, hidden by the surrounding woods—they were more interested in dropping some of the acid that Brandon bought off a carnival worker at B&B Amusements—both of them had a bottle of St. Paulie Girls in their hands. And Brandon recalled the motto of B&B Amusements: We Make Memories…
It was never articulated just what kind of “Memories” B&B referred to—what kind they made… Unknown only to the very few and those involved, the carnival was a front for drug-running, prostitution, and pornography—especially child-pornography.
Brandon hadn’t known any of that. He just knew that the carnie sold him some hella-shit LSD—or EMT, as the carnie called it. If he had known what was going down, he would have gone to the police—even if it meant that he would have been busted for carrying acid. Pedophiles should all rot in hell!
But then—once again, he didn’t know anything about B&B’s hidden agenda. So he took the acid, and went on his way.
5
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ebra Buchanan was a Registered Nurse at Mercy Central, and a rather wealthy R.N at that. In early June of 2004, Debra Buchanan was hit by a car while crossing a street in Corinthian, not far from where she went to school.
Following the accident, Debra was in a coma for 21 days. She had fractured her skull, shattered her ribcage, punctured her lungs, and shattered her hip, which was replaced by metal and Teflon.
The man who had hit her was a retired Sergeant of the military who was just beginning to experience the exciting fundamentals of a mental disorder, which in his case was Schizoaffective. His lawyer explained that his client was hearing voices at the time of the accident. Debra had actually felt sorry for the man, and pissed at the world that there was no one to truly blame for her condition—although it was said that she had recovered remarkably.
Yeah. Remarkable.
Debra suspected that she probably wouldn’t have the privilege to play sports ever again. And she would always have to have someone with her if she wanted to swim. Oh—yeah, and she would always walk with a slight limp, which would grow increasingly worse as she grew older
Yeah. Remarkable recovery.
Still, it could have been worse; she could have been sent on a permanent vacation following the accident. But considering the condition of the world these days, she often argued that maybe the permanent vacation might not have been such a bad thing.
At any rate, the verdict in, Debra sued the Sergeant’s insurance company, which would in turn make the man’s rates skyrocket, if they didn’t drop him completely, but there was little that Debra could do about that…bills had to be paid. The suit was for 1.5 million dollars, half of which covered hospital expenses, which took almost a year to receive, and “sorry Mr. Man for your disorder, but I currently have one of my own...who do we blame now…? God?” Such was life; some of us are able to drive the highway, while others of us have to constantly wait to get into the stream of traffic.
Pushing aside the memory to the best of her ability, Debra installed the Playstation, and as it was warming up with Final Fantasy, she decided to go grab herself a beer from one of the coolers.
Shannon and Tyler were still in the kitchen putting things away; Thomas and Ian were in the living room watching football on a 60-inch HDTV, while the remaining girls were all in the pond illustrating a young teen-ager’s wet-dream, or the next Sports Illustrated Swimwear issue. So what was the problem with Ian and Thomas? As if hearing her thoughts, Ian turned to Debra. “Aren’t you swimming?”
“Maybe later,” Debra told him. “I just want to hit a few more levels in Final Fantasy.”
“Did you bring any two-player games?”
“Sure; racing and combat, mostly.”
“What do you have in the way of combat?”
“Mortal Kombat Armageddon II and Tekken III.”
“May I challenge you to a game of Mortal Kombat this evening?”
“You may, if Katsumi says it’s alright.”
“If Kat--?
“Says it’s alright.” Debra finished for him.
“Hey girl, I’m not pussy-whipped here.” Ian protested.
“It’s not a matter of being pussy-whipped; I don’t want to get on Katsumi’s bad-side.” And then before Ian could say anything more, Debra turned to the couple in the kitchen. “Could I get a beer?”
“Sure can do,” Tyler replied. “Import or domestic?”
“Import,”
“Heineken it is.” Sorting through the coolers, Tyler found a six-pack of Heineken. He grabbed two bottles. Then he reached into his pant’s pocket and took out his keys. He used a bottle-opener on his key-chain to open the first bottle, then he removed the tool from the key-ring and handed it to Debra. “For later,” he said finally.
“Thank you, kind sir.” Debra acknowledged. Then she took her two beers back to her room where the intro-movie to Final Fantasy XII was still going strong.
Brandon was dealing out hits when Jessie showed up, seemingly materializing out of nowhere in the woods behind them.
“What’s up dude-men? You scopin’ the chicks from a reticent vantage? Shame on you…”
“What did he just say?” Jason asked. “I mean I have no idea what he just said. Where does a jock come off having a vocabulary?”
“He asked if we were scoping out the babes in the pond.” Brandon affirmed.
“Nah,” Jason replied offhandedly. “We’re just dropping acid, sucking down beer.”
“No shit?” Jessie’s eyes widened, his voice raised a notch.
“No shit, want a couple of hits? I’ve got ten.”
“To be perfectly honest, I’ve never dropped acid before.”
“No shit. In that case maybe we should start you out with one hit.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Only if you take it with a phormachidal maniac.” Jason admonished, looking up toward the sky.”
“A what?”
“Do we look like the kind of guys that would fuck with dangerous shit? You won’t find me shootin’ heroin or smokin’ crack.” Brandon explicated.
“A phormachidal maniac,”
“What in the hell is a forma-cydle maniac?” Jessie wanted to know.
“Ah—c’mon dude, smart guy like you knows; pharmachidal maniacs are the sort of psychos that like to chop people up into cole-slaw and sprinkle them over their Wheaties.”
“Oh—you mean; homicidal maniac.”
“That’s what I said; a phormachidal maniac.”
“Hey Jess,” back to Brandon. “Do you want to trip, or not?”
“Sure, what the hell.”
Tina, Raine, Jennifer, Becky, Kim, and Katsumi were all in the pond, and when they weren’t swimming they were gossiping--mostly about boys. With the exception of Rain and Becky, the girls stood in the shallow of the pond, which was four feet deep, just enough to keep heads and breasts above water. Raine and Becky were on long, luminescent rafts, with cup-holders; Becky straddled hers, while Raine lay on her breasts and belly. Owen designed the pond so that the shallows would incline almost immediately; that way if someone dived in, they wouldn’t have to worry about hitting their head on the shallows. The pond at its deepest point was twenty-two feet, not that he expected anyone to be swimming down that deep, but he suspected that there would be those who would climb Gillian’s Height, and jump down from the waterfall into the pond. And Owen didn’t want anyone breaking a leg after hitting the water.
“So are you in love with him?” Jennifer asked Tina.
“Not at this time,” Tina admitted. Then with a sly smile she added, “But that’s subject to change.”
“Right now it’s more like lust,” Kim suggested.
“Uh-hunh…” Jennifer replied agreeably. “I see the way you look at Earl.”
“About the same way I look at Thomas and Jessie and Steven.” Tina countered with laughter. After a moment she added “Earl does have nice…eyes though.”
“That’s not what you meant to say, and you know it.”
“Okay, so I like his ass.”
“He does have a really nice ass.” Raine admitted.
“And he’s got a great sense of humor.”
All the girls burst out laughing.
“And he’s an awesome Game Master.” Kim added.
“Yeah, his campaigns are like, so cool.”
“I remember the last one we went through.”
“Scared the hell out of me,” Raine replied. And Raine didn’t scare easily.
“It was so Gothic, so eerie…”
“Yeah, why wasn’t he able to make it out this weekend?” Becky asked.
“He had to work,”
“That figures.”
“So, if you had your choice, who would you share your bed with?”
“Oh—Christ,” Raine said with a lace of disgust. “Why don’t you ask her what you really mean? This isn’t some old ladies’ coffee cache; what “prude and proper” is asking you is: who would you want to fuck?”
“Oh, that sounds real good, coming from someone who’s planning on being a therapist someday.” Jennifer countered.
“What I say at work is one thing. Who I am when the work-day is over is another story.”
“We are, who we are inside,”
“Nice, did you hear that psycho-babble from Brandon?”
“That’s somebody I would fuck,” Becky put in.
“That stoner?”
“He’s real profound when he isn’t burning brain cells.”
“If that’s what you say.” Raine said off-handedly.
“You can’t deny that he’s cute,”
“Okay, I won’t deny it.”
“Okay, so who would you fuck, Tina?”
“Nobody, ‘cause I’m roomin’ with Raine on this trip, I don’t have the privacy I want, and poison oak does not a pleasant bedfellow make.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Raine objected. “I can always go somewhere else.”
“And there’s always the alcove,” Kim chimed.
“Anyone want a beer?” Katsumi suggested. There was a small cooler near the shoreline. “I’m gonna’ get a beer.”
“You’re not exempt from this conversation,” Becky called to her.
“Yes I am.” Katsumi called back.
“I’ll have a beer,” Tina told Katsumi.
6
Build a Wall with the bodies of the dead
And you’re saved
Make the world scared
Show me the sign of victory
--Balls to the wall
Accept
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randon handed Jessie the blotter of acid; a tiny piece of square paper—about the size of an aspirin, with a design on its face. Jessie looked at it with curiosity lining his features. “Is that a profile of Scooby-Doo, or am I already trippin’?”
“Scoooooby--Doooooby--Dooooo…!” Jason crowed.
“That’s an imposed image of Scooby-Doo.” Brandon affirmed. “The hits are EMT, and they are called Scooby-Snacks.”
“Really? How quaint.”
“Yeah, just take the hit and stick it under your tongue, let it slowly dissolve.”
Jessie, with slight hesitation, did as he was instructed, not sure what to expect. No sooner was the blotter under his tongue, and then someone came up behind him, covering his eyes. The hands were small and soft, and had the slightest aroma of hand-lotion in spite of their exposure to the pond. Jessie could feel the damp body pressing up against his back, curvaceous breasts pushed into him. Jessie however didn’t register these elements immediately, and he was startled so intensely that he almost spit out the hit, and came close to voiding himself as well.
“Guess who…” a young woman’s voice declared, playful
Jessie was without a voice, so the other two young men spoke for him. “Damn girl, you’re looking fucking hot. Good enough to eat.”
“Promise?” The female’s voice challenged. Lanny then took her hands away from Jessie’s eyes, first she pinched him then she slapped him on the right buttock. “It’s me, “sweet cheeks”.”
“It certainly is.” Brandon admitted. “Where have you been doing your shopping for swimwear, Frederic’s?”
“How’d you guess?” Lanny countered with a wicked smile. Then she surveyed the trio—even as Jessie was still regaining his composure—with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, she said, “What have you boys been doing away from the sight of the world?”
“Dropping acid,” Jason said, before anyone could say another word.
“Really?” Lanny sounded excited.
This at once surprised Jessie, then, just as quickly, he wasn’t surprised. Not at all. He knew Lanny liked to party, and would do so just as easily as she would drop her top for kicks. It was relatively obvious to him that Lanny dropped acid during her expeditions, maybe even a little EMT—whatever the hell it was. Furthermore, it sounded like Lanny had enjoyed the experience.
“Do you have a hit for this bodacious babe?” Lanny wanted to know.
“Sure,” Brandon said with a warm smile. He was checking out Lanny’s form, and her swimwear; it was a pink body suit, made of something like lycra or latex, that fit snuggly like a second skin, and was pierced with circular holes that seem to reveal too much and not enough at the same time, the bottom of her breasts could be seen, the sides and swells exposed by strategically-placed holes, while impressions of her nipples showed prominently, her tits pushing against the fabric of the glistening body suit, and sometimes…when looked, at a glance, it gave the appearance that she wasn’t wearing anything at all. When Brandon regained his senses, under Lanny’s winning smile, he handed her a blotter.
“Did you take a hit, sweet-cheeks?”
“It’s his first time,” Brandon answered in Jessie’s stead.
“Oooh—first time?” Lanny arched an eyebrow. “In that case it wouldn’t be safe to let you out of my sight.”
“You won’t let me do anything stupid, will you?” Jessie said, looking at Lanny’s ample cleavage.
“Oh—no, baby. I’m going to take good care of you. And then…if it’s alright with you, I’m going to fuck your brains out. How does that sound?” She smiled brightly at him.
Jason and Brandon looked at one another sheepishly. Jessie was finding it difficult to look away from Lanny’s cleavage, and the exposed curves of her breasts.
“Like what you see?” Lanny said suggestively.
Jessie was hardly aware that he nodded his head, or that the colors around him were growing brighter, more crisp, setting Lanny’s swimwear aglow. It was at that moment that he thought that he had seen a face in the trees from the corner of his eye. Not a human face, per-se; but a countenance made out of leaves and branches. He turned and studied the area briefly then was startled to see more botanical visages.
“Uh…guys,” Jessie said finally “I’m seeing faces in the trees.”
“Tree spirits!” Jason squawked, then cackled, finishing by clapping his hands together for applause.
“C’mon Jessie” Lanny prompted, and Jessie would have sworn at that moment that he was looking at the countenance of the actress from Resident Evil, Milla Jovovich with long dark hair and blond streaks, she had such a contagious smile. “Let’s go swimming.”
Charmed by her words, even before he realized it, he was following Lanny’s tantalizing heart-shaped ass through the woods and toward the pond. Faces of nature surrounded him, grinning suggestively. An animated skeleton trotted by in front of Lanny, but she didn’t pay any attention to it, so neither did Jessie. It didn’t even seem to matter that the skeleton had a broom between its legs.
Jessie stepped out from the woods and his mouth dropped open. The pond before him was a scintillating rainbow of colors. The waves and ripples looked like flames of iridescence, or mercury reflecting rainbows. “My god,” he exclaimed. “Are you seeing this?”
“Seeing what, honey? The prismatic pool?”
“It is absolutely beautiful!”
“It sure is. Let’s not waste any time. It will feel as good as it looks.” And then suggestively she added, “I promise.”
And it did. Even better. It almost felt…sensual.
Jessie followed Lanny into the pond, and then all at once he lost her.
A moment later he felt a tug on his trunks—or thought he did, and then they were pulled down passed his knees. As he was flailing momentarily to regain his composure, and his shorts, when he thought that he felt two hands on his penis, and all at once a groan escaped his lips. The sensation was indescribable. He grew hard almost instantaneously. Before he could clearly register what was happening, a feeling like a warm, silken glove enveloped him--or again, maybe he was imagining it. After all, it was impractical for a guy to get a hummer from a chick underwater. But—oh, god, it felt so real.
Tina yelled over to him from the other side of the pond, “Hey, Jessie! Have you seen Lanny?”
Hands and tongues seemingly rolled back and forth along his erect prick.
“I—uhn…that is…uh—“
“It’s a simple question, hon.” Tina pointed out. “Have you, or haven’t you?”
“I—oh…I don’t…think so.”
“You don’t think so? You either have, or you haven’t. What’s the deal?”
Jessie thought he was going to climax at any moment. “Hav—hav—haven’t…seen her.”
The EMT added to the stimulation tremendously, and Jessie threw his head back and looked toward the sky. The clouds, looking down, were laughing at him.
And then Lanny surfaced next to him, and the wave of euphoria slowly passed. That is until she flashed him a radiant smile—said: “Let’s be friends,”—kissed him forcibly, then pushed her tongue down his throat.
Tina spied Lanny. “There you are! So you haven’t seen her, eh Jessie? Hey, no splooge in the pond guys; you want to do that, you take it to your bedroom or the alcove.”
Contrary to belief, Lanny had not in fact given Jessie a hummer while submerged beneath the water, however it was a combination of elements—her stroking him for example--that led Jessie to believe that she had.
The alcove was a natural vault, a rock hollow, an impasse behind the waterfall, with a built in Jacuzzi to the far left of the vault. Around the hot-tub was a 10x20 stone-covered area that was polished from occasional spray and run-off from the fall. In some areas Owen had lined it with brick—for example the edge of it that faced the waterfall. It was a place most commonly used for making-out by the young men and women that came to the cabin—a romantic little place.
“I like to finish what I’ve started,” Lanny told Jessie with a sly smile. “C’mon, I’ll race you.” She would beat him of course, because although Jessie was physically fit, Lanny had been on the swim-team her sophomore year of high school, and she always prided herself in keeping up her strength, including 200+ days a year spent at the gym.
Jason and Brandon were already in the alcove, examining the far wall, and observing that there was some kind of inscription in the stone.
“Am I trippin’—“
Lanny came splashing around the waterfall, she hoisted herself up on the lip of the alcove. “Hey guys,” she addressed the two young men with little surprise in her voice. “What are you up to?”
They both started at Lanny’s abrupt voice and appearance, but they recovered their composure quickly. “Hey, Lanny. Come over here and take a look at this.
Lanny got to her feet. “Look at what?” She walked over to where the two friends gathered at the wall, they were scrutinizing it, while her bare feet slapped against the smooth floor of the alcove and came up behind them. For the moment the hot-tub was forgotten.
“Do you see this?” Brandon asked. “Or, am I just trippin’?”
“Hey dude, I see it too.” Jason confirmed.
“See what?” Came Lanny’s reply. Then she too saw it; characters carved into the wall:
Kra’deh tra’ef Sera Fooetagh
“Do you see it?” Brandon insisted.
“I see it,” Lanny told him. Her eyes peered at it in detached wonder. “But what does it mean?”
Jessie showed up about this time and joined the club.
“It looks like it was carved in with a chisel,” Brandon told them.
Jessie looked at it, didn’t agree. He ran his hand across the characters. “They’re too smooth. No, it looks like it was burned into the stone.”
“Dude you are trippin’. How ya’ gonna’ burn that into the wall? With a rock-version of a wood-burning tool?”
Jessie shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. Maybe acetylene, a welding torch?”
“Who’s gonna’ take the time to use a welding torch to carve gibberish into the wall?”
“That’s what disturbs me,” Jessie replied a bit cryptically. “I don’t think that the words are gibberish. I think they were put there as painstakingly as they were deliberate.”
“What the hell for?”
Again Jessie shrugged. “Hell I don’t know, some kind of warning?”
There was silence for a full minute in the hollow, and then Brandon and Jason both burst into fits of laughter.
“Scooby-Doo! Where are you?”
“We got some work to do mow.”
Brandon looked at Jason. “Did you just say “mow”?”
“What are you talking about mow? I didn’t say “mow”?”
“Can I see your license and registration, mow?”
Together Brandon and Jason said: “Super Troopers!”
Brandon was wiping tears out of his eyes by the time he was able to say, “A warning to what? The Ghost of the Haunted Hollow?”
Jason made the sound of a ghost, it echoed through the impasse.
And then Brandon broke in with the next verse: “You’re not fooling me--‘cause I can see, the way you shake and shiver.”
“Shit,” Lanny almost spat. “Will you two grow up? Jessie may be on to something here.”
“Oh, he is,” Jason winked. “He’s on to you.”
“Oh—fuck-off,”
“Unkind, Lanny baby. Unkind.” Jason turned to Brandon. “Hey dude, why is it whenever a girl acts like a slut-bunny, and you call her on, it she gets pissed?”
“Maybe I prefer the term “lady of the evening”, gentlemen.”
“News-brief: it’s broad daylight.”
“It’s nighttime somewhere; I like to be instant in season and out.”
In the meantime Jessie was studying the inscription in the wall—trying to make it say something.
(Think Da’ Vinci Code…)
Possibly an anagram…? In English…?
(In Common…)
Kra—
(Kra--)
Kra-
No.
Dark. It’s...“dark”.”
(Dark…)
“Tra—something…dark. Dark rat. Dark art… Tra…”
(No…)
“Did you say something, dude?” Brandon inquired of Jessie.
“It is “art”.”
“Dude, if you’re calling that shit art—“
“He—“
“He what, dude? What are you going on about?”
“The…”
“He the art?! Whaaat the fuck are you talking about?”
Lanny gave Brandon an admonishing shove. “Will you knock it off! Can’t you see he’s trying to figure this thing out?”
“A jock figure this thing out? That’ll be the day.”
Ra’ef—
(Fe’ar…)
“Fear… It is an anagram. Some of the words are backwards,” Jessie said finally.
Brandon and Jason both looked at the jock. Then they both studied the inscription again. “So what does “hih-gateof” mean?”
“As crazy as it sounds, I think you just nailed it.”
“Nailed what? This isn’t the way I like to trip.”
“”Gate of”…something. Gate of…fear the dark…”
“Get out of town, it doesn’t say that. It says: Ares fe—what the fuck? Oh, I’m trippin’ balls; because now the words are bleeding and blurring and shit.”
“Chill out, Jason.” Jessie told him. “I see it too. The inscription is…changing.”
Characters rippled and faded and melded together before the quartet. They seem to go out of focus, then returned, rearticulated, as clear as before, but with a different inscription.
Oruc s’bo-al Ramet Seir Aeda dar-t’ne
“Okay, so now what the hell is this?” Jason wanted to know. “Did you see a little man run through here wielding a welding torch?”
The quip was ignored.
“I think it’s…Spanish,” Lanny said almost tonelessly.
“Whaaat? You gotta’ be kidding. I mean I’m no Spanish Major, but that’s not like any Spanish that I’ve ever seen.”
“You have to look for the words—find them, but I think that it’s Spanish. I wish Katsumi were here, she’d be able to help us with it.”
“Are we even sure that we’re all seeing the same thing anymore?”
“Jason’s right,” Jessie said admittedly. This was suddenly making him feel very uncomfortable. “This is too weird. I think we ought to just leave it alone.”
“But you said it might be a warning,” Lanny pointed out.
“So…?”
“So, if it is, I think it would be in our best interest to find out what it means.”
Entrada
“Look, I’m trippin’; I’m not even sure what I meant two minutes ago.”
Lanny looked at him. “Do you still want to fuck me?”
Jessie made a face. “Sure, of course, but—“
“You knew what you meant,” Lanny said matter-of-factly.
“Leave it to the slut to make everything clear for you,” Jason commented.
“Stop calling me a slut; I haven’t asked you to fuck me yet.”
Temor
Brandon brayed with laughter. “Zoinkers!”
“And don’t even start with that “zoinkers” shit.”
And then Lanny saw it.
7
|
I |
n the upper corner of her right eye Lanny saw something glowing, like an emerald on fire. She tried to blink it away, it was however persistent, and remained constant.
She saw then, somewhere in the distance, beyond a wavering veil of fog, burning at the top of a bizarrely-designed metal pedestal of some kind. A green jewel, floating, perhaps twenty yards…beyond the wall.
8
Obscuro
Lanny wondered if the others saw it.
They did.
“What…the hell…is that…?” Brandon voiced in awe.
“It’s…weird…”
Lanny moved to put her hand on the surface of the wall, her hand passed through it.
9
|
B |
randon exclaimed, “No, I am not seeing this. I don’t care how badly I’m trippin’.”
“Believe it,” Jessie said in wonder. “Because I think that we’re all seeing it.”
On the other hand Lanny was feeling it. Or wasn’t feeling it as the case might be. This set up involuntary tremors concerning the reality of the situation, which in turn startled her so badly she slipped and fell through the wall…
“Ow…! My knee, godammit!”
Pain shot through Lanny’s left leg, pinpointing on her knee in a white flare of light she could see behind her closed eyes, the sensation that followed led her to believe that she had sprained her knee, on the rock floor, on the other side of the wall.
She would learn in time that she had not in fact sprained her knee, merely came very close to doing so. In spite of that fact, the pain was intense enough to make her nauseous, and then she saw pinpricks of light flashing momentarily, she developed a headache almost immediately. There followed then a splash of fireworks and kaleidoscopes in her mind’s eye, as the drug she took kicked in and helped to graciously alleviate most of the pain.
“Lanny!” Jessie called out in sudden fear. “Are you alright?”
There came no answer.
Lanny rolled around and rocked back and forth, grabbing her knee with both hands. Gritting her teeth.
Jessie became badly frightened. The clarity and acoustics between him and Lanny was obscured, a hazy fog seem to move intermittently before him, beyond the wall. He stepped through the veil.
He was suddenly in another world.
It was a vast, fiery-green illuminated and cavernous realm of protruding stalactites and towering stalagmites. Where the ceiling could not be placed and where a multitude of bioluminescent lichens glistened on the surrounding walls. It was strangely beautiful in its presentation—or perhaps it was the chemicals in Jessie’s brain that made it seem so, it appeared as ancient as it was alien, and had a haunting aura in its quintessence.
Jessie saw stone shelves to either side of him built into the walls, climbing toward the darkness of the cavern. Figures occupied the shelves, inert forms, with arms crossed before them, imitating sleep or death.
He found Lanny, still holding her knee, lying on her side, between himself and the pedestal of green fire. She smiled weakly at his appearance.
“Are you alright?” he asked again.
Lanny looked at him, an embarrassing expression alighted her features. “I’ll live,” she said weakly. “’Hurts like hell though. The EMT helps—who would have thought?” Slowly Lanny sat up. “I must admit that this is the first time my clumsiness has ever caused me to fall through an ethereal wall into another dimension, while trippin’ on acid.” Before Jessie could say anything, she went on. “Did it occur to you that while you were playing the knight-in-shining-armor that you could have quite possibly passed through a gate into another world, when you went through that wall?”
Jessie didn’t quite know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure if Lanny were being serious, if this response was a byproduct from tripping, or if she had hit her head when she fell. “It…uh, never occurred to me.” And then straightening himself, he said, “But I’m sure that there’s some reasonable explanation for this.”
“Explanation? Possibly. Reasonable? Doubtful.” Lanny looked up toward the ceiling. “I deciphered three of the words in the inscription before I fell through.”
“What are the words?”
“Entrada. Temor. And…Obscuro.”
“And what do they mean?”
“Entrada means: “entrance, entry, or gate”; Temor means: “dread, or suspicion; while Obscuro means: “dark or dim.”
“Scary, dark gate?” Jessie queried. “Gate of dark dread?”
“I don’t think that it’s quite that simple. You interpreted the words: “fear the dark—“
“Fuckin’-a!” Jason vociferated. “We’re between worlds, man!”
Lanny rolled her eyes. “Only a complete idiot would find the concept of that reality exciting.” Then she added, “I don’t suppose you two stopped to think that for one moment that when you followed us through the veil, you might not be able to get back? I mean I didn’t fall through the wall for shucks and giggles.”
Lanny was having a time with her head. Trying to discern between what was real and what was unreal. Her drug-induced brain was suggesting one reality, while her intuition argued with it. She was convinced that she was in the embrace of a powerful hallucinogen which influenced her primary thought process, and which probably wouldn’t wear off for another ten hours or so, but she also was swayed to believe her inner feelings, which told her that she was in a mother-fucker of a cavern. Stone walls, stalactites and stalagmites climbed all around her, they appeared ancient, vanishing into a dark, vertical abyss that the green glimmering light could not illuminate.
The forms on the shelves on the other hand, were illuminated, and the glow of the fiery brilliance made them appear sickly.
“Whoa…” Jason exclaimed. “Dead dudes! What’s up with that?”
The two buds seem to skip over to the nearest shelf. It was about six feet in length and was raised from the ground by about four feet. Their eyes widened as they gazed at the figure lying on the slab of rock. What they saw there would have ordinarily filled them with repugnance. Instead they were fascinated. The creature was humanoid—but far from human. Its head was bulbous in a lateral sense, while its skin was like tallow and the coloration was that of egg-whites. The thing had a maw that was open and splayed and somehow crushed, or collapsed, filled with needle-like teeth, and upper and lower fangs, where a barbed tongue lay across. Normally the creature would appear vile and monstrous in the buds’ eyes, with a gaunt form not lacking of muscle, and talons almost eight inches in length.
“Eeewwwww…gnarly…”
“Scooby-Doo! Where are you!?” Brandon’s words echoed through the cavern.
“”Get away from there!” Lanny demanded. “Christ, will you two knock it the fuck off?! We’re in some serious shit, here.”
“Chill out girl,” Jason implied. “This ain’t real. It’s all a mind-fuck from the EMT. These dead guys don’t even look human—“
Brandon agreed. “What do you think is really going on here? Do you think that we somehow stepped into another world, like the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?”
“Or maybe fell through a rabbit-hole like Alice in Wonderland?”
“This can’t be happening.” Brandon said calmly.
“It’s impossible.”
“Really…?” Lanny reached over and picked up a small stone from the ground, she tossed it at Jason, and it lightly bounced off the front of his head.
“Ow—fuck!” What was that for?”
“What was what for?” Lanny replied, looking innocent.
“You threw a rock at me.”
“I did not. You said it yourself, “this ain’t real.” Then neither was the rock; it was all in your hallucinating-fuckin’-mind. Or would you like to dispute the issue?”
“Girl, you’re losin’ it.”
“You’ve already lost it.” Lanny declared. “I’m trying to get a hold of a hairy situation, and I’m trying to do it while frying on acid; that’s no walk in the park, and godammit, you’re not helping!”
10
|
L |
anny said, “Now then, I understand that we’ve all taken a superb hallucinogen, but I’m telling you that what is going on around you—around us, is real.”
“How do you know?” Jason challenged.
“Aside from the bump on your head…? Turn around and look behind you.”
Jason did as he was told. “Yeah?”
“Do you see anything strange? Here, let me help you; you can no longer see the alcove, can you?”
Admittedly, Jason could not see the impasse, instead he saw a solid wall, one that had faces swimming about it, reminding him of a scene from Pink Floyd’s, The Wall.
“I see faces—“ Jason began, and Lanny cut him off.
“The faces are a hallucination. The rest of this is real.”
Not wanting to accept this, Jason moved forward and toward the wall. He put his hand to it, and discovered that it was solid, rough, and cold to the touch, in spite of the faces within. And the reality of the wall’s solidity brought an unnatural feeling of claustrophobia that slowly closed in and around him, bringing an icy grip along for the ride. Jason realized suddenly that, somehow, in some inexplicable way, he was cut off from the very world he once knew.
“This isn’t possible,” he said in wonder and disbelief.
“Possible, or not,” Lanny stated. “It’s something that we’re going to have to accept, so we can in turn deal with it.”
“But it isn’t possible.” Jason said again, as if, with his mere words, he could make the reality anything save that which it currently was. “This is a bad trip. I don’t like this. I want to go home!”
Jason heard whispers whirling around him, a multitude of voices speaking, unintelligibly. Abstractly he thought it might be the bioluminescent lichens. He began to weep.
“I want to go home!!”
“Godammit, Jason!” Lanny’s voice echoed. “How long have you been taking this shit? You should know better than to act like that.”
“She’s right,” Brandon admitted. “You can’t fuck with your head like that, or you’re going to be in for a world of hell.”
Jason understood this; that if he influenced his thoughts darkly, he would provoke terrible hallucinations. He needed to get a grip on his thinking, and fast. But it was quite difficult, because now he was badly frightened.
I want to go home… But he wouldn’t say it, not aloud. Not anymore. He would not allow the drug that he had taken to push his thinking in a direction that could lead to mental desolation.
“What are we going to do, Lanny?” he said soberly.
Loc’opa…eh…enot…
“I’m not sure yet. But I think I have an idea. Will you guys help me up?”
The young men moved forward to assist her, and Jason couldn’t help but cop a brief feel while he was doing so. Lanny discovered that she couldn’t put her full weight on her leg—no surprise there, she would be limping for a couple of days, or so she suspected. And there goes the weekend. She wondered—if her idea did work—how she would be swimming back to the house from the alcove. She supposed that she would need Jessie’s help.
Lanny looked at the intricate, ornate pedestal that was also a fiery brazier, and studied the floating gem in the dancing flames of the fire within. She observed that the jewel was about the size of a silver-dollar, and probably priceless if appraised properly.
What are we going to do, Lanny?
She knew that they were all expecting her to somehow get them out of this. It wasn’t really fair to do so. However that is what happens when you keep your head while everyone else around you is losing theirs; authority manages to get delineated to the one maintaining their composure as cool as a cucumber. People draw strength from that one, hope is made manifest, and the one keeping their cool suddenly finds that they are hoping that they don’t disappoint—or in worst-case scenario, get killed—those counting on them. But really—what was it that was around here that could possibly kill them?
(Fear the dark…)
There was a lot of rock.
There was the fire.
And there was…the darkness.
11
|
W |
ith the help of the boys, Lanny slowly made her way over to the pedestal/brazier, she limped, and she gasped with every other step.
“Lanny, what are you doing?” Jessie inquired, uncertain of her actions forthcoming.
Lanny said nothing, but continued moving forward. She observed that, as she drew closer to the pedestal/brazier no heat emitted from the dancing flames.
“Lanny…?”
She reached her arm out, trying to bring herself still closer to the flames. Abruptly the gem within the fire leapt upward. It hovered in the air above the group, all eyes upon it. The glowing jewel gleamed ominously with its inner fire, like something alive, scrutinizing them.
12
|
L |
anny cursed: “Oh--shit,” even as the flames suddenly grew higher in the brazier.
The boys weren’t sure what to make of Lanny’s statement.
They were given little time to figure it out before the fiery jewel launched itself at the young woman.
“Look out!” Someone cried in warning.
The jewel hit Lanny square between the eyes, with the force of a thrown baseball. She saw a splash of stars and was knocked off her feet. The boys still held her and prevented her from hitting the ground. Lanny wasn’t given the luxury to rationalize what was going on before the jewel rebounded off her head, and then found the palm of her right hand. In the next instant she felt a burning sensation that caused her to again grit her teeth; it was as if something was melting into her palm, fusing into it. She let out a squawk, and this time the boys were unable to keep her from hitting the ground.
Lanny woke with the guys staring down at her. “What?” she looked up, meeting their gaze of mixed expressions. “Did it work?” She said blearily.
She saw a flash of movement, up on the nearby wall. And when she glanced over a horrifying shriek almost escaped from between her lips. She knew that what she was seeing was no hallucination.
“Did what work, Lanny?” Jessie asked softly.
“Wait—hussshhhhh…” Lanny offered in warning. “Don’t move,” she whispered. Slowly, cautiously, she said, “Look up on the wall.”
The guys did. Their discovery almost made them void themselves. Up on the cavern wall, perhaps twenty feet from the ground, squatted one of the ghoulish humanoids, poised like a spider, eyes of crimson gleaming wickedly. It made a sound like an angry cat with a throat full of phlegm, hissing, in what one might consider to be either a warning or anticipation. There appeared another, moving on all fours with superb and fluid agility, followed by another that crawled up next to the first. They seemed to unlock their jaws as they opened their mouths, dropping them perhaps three inches below where their chins might be, and displayed their, teeth, their fangs, and their long barbed tongues that moved in whip-like, serpentine fashion.
“Holy-shit,” Jessie declared.
“Go for the alcove wall,” Lanny instructed. “Now.” She looked at the pedestal/brazier, and saw that the gem no longer occupied the heart of the flames. As if in answer to her unspoken question, she could feel her palm still burning.
“I’m not leaving you here,” Jessie said, bending down to pick her up. This seemed to agitate the creatures on the wall, and they scuttled down about six feet. He slung her over his right shoulder as gently as he could.
“Hang on,”
Jason didn’t wait for an explanation, as he thought he could once again see the alcove beyond a hazy veil. He ran, arms and hands out in front of him, toward the wall, and then through it… And one of the ghouls followed, screeching as it scuttled and sprinted on all four limbs. It leapt off the wall, ran passed Brandon, and followed Jason through the veil.
Jason didn’t allow himself a moment of relief, but ran the breadth of the alcove, he dived through the waterfall and into the pond. Surfacing a moment later, he swam furiously toward the shore. He didn’t reach it. For as he swam, there appeared in the water—breaking the surface, dozens of the ghouls that he had seen in the cavern. They were all around him. Screeching and hissing and moving madly toward him. And he could not discern if it was illusion or not. He screamed in abject terror. They came at him with claws tearing at his flesh, ripping out his throat. He saw his own blood spray as he flailed helplessly in the water.
Suddenly he found himself recalling the first time he saw a beautiful woman naked. It had been in his friend Nicky’s tree house—a custom job that. It was half the size of his own bedroom, with a ladder for access and a pole for departure; it had its own deck, shutters, and was fully furnished, with a color TV, and Nintendo. Jason didn’t remember the woman’s name, that didn’t matter; all that mattered was that the woman had given him a hard-on at eleven years of age. She was a Centerfold of course, taking up residency in the middle of a Playboy Magazine. It had been a rite of passage of sorts, and it was wonderful; like the first time he had drank beer with his friends.
…He remembered the first time that he had seen the bare beautiful body of a young woman. She had been a friend of his older sister, Una. Her friend’s name was Carleen Delfino. Jason had been thirteen and Carleen had been fifteen, with long black hair and blue eyes and a curvaceous figure—somehow he always seem to attract the older women in his life. His luck, or so he believed. Maybe it was his blue-green eyes and curly hair. He had been on the couch one night a little after midnight, watching Movies ‘Till Dawn, a Godzilla episode if he recalled correctly. And Carleen walked into the living room wearing nothing but moonlight. “Could you rub my back for me, baby…?” she had asked him in a sultry voice. She had been drinking a little that night, had gone to a party with Una and some other girlfriends. Apparently she hadn’t gotten lucky at the party, or the guys there were a bunch of idiots—low-class and full of shit. Nonetheless, Una had showed up almost immediately, throwing a sheet over Carleen, but not before he had seen all the jewels and gems that she had to offer. Una tried to usher Carleen back into the bedroom, repeating over and over in justification: “She’s drunk, Jason. Carleen’s drunk.”
…His mind filed back to the first time that he had sex. He had been fifteen and at a friend’s party. When the curtain had closed at the end of the party, the second act—unbeknownst to Jason, had just begun. A handful of friends stayed over, girls as well as boys. And Jason had been sleeping in a spare bedroom when Denise Marlow had climbed into his bed, another wonderful rite of passage.
…He remembered when his father was having midlife crises and Jason’s parents were obviously not getting along in their relationship; Thaddeus was buying cars, and when he had the opportunity he fucked anything between the age of nineteen and twenty-seven. That really wasn’t one of Jason’s more pleasant recollections, but he thought—a bit abstractly, that when your life is passing before your eyes, you don’t get to choose the memories that find you…
Brandon took off running almost immediately after Jason passed through the veil. Another ghoul followed just as swiftly. The monstrosity leapt down to the nearest shelf like a great cat, then landed on the ground, its movement was so fluid that it made the process seem like a single act. Then it was bounding quickly after Brandon. The creature almost had him, until he passed through the veil, then the ghoul deviated from its pursuit.
The fiend leapt up on the wall just above the portal, ran up its surface, and vanished into the surrounding darkness overhead.
“Did you see that?” Jessie said, more to himself than to Lanny. She was now draped over his right shoulder, trying to refrain from fearing the wo