Chapter 1
Clara rubbed her finger across the initials scratched into the half
rotten post that held the barn up for nearly a century. The barn that's
heard so many secrets and witnessed to so many memories. The barn that
time slowly turned to nothing but a pile of old decaying wood and one
standing southwest corner. Although barely legible, she knew what the
initials read. Clara had frequent flashbacks of her and Charlie, some
twenty years ago, when they first met in high school and some three
years ago, when their love was just the same as it had been from the
beginning.
This memory was as fresh to her as if she had
experienced it far more recent than nineteen years ago. Her and Charlie
had only been dating for a year. They met up at their usual spot, the
old abandoned miller barn on Oliver Street. Time was working on the
barn, as well as Charlie, but hadn't claimed either of them yet. She was
blindfolded. He took her hand and carefully helped her over random
mounds of hay, dirt and fallen wood.
Clara could tell she was no
longer in the barn when the light pierced through the cloth over her
eyes. She could see faint, red tinted, outlines of the objects in front
of her. She felt Charlie's fingers fidgeting with the knot that held the
two ends of the bandana behind her head.
"Now, close your eyes. No peeking until I say so." She remembered Charlie say.
Charlie pulled on her shoulder spinning her around. "Okay. Open them now."
She stood facing the post on the southwest corner of the barn. 'CES and CMH 4ever' was scratched into the surface of the wood surrounded by an oblong shaped heart.
"So…" Charlie paused. "Do you like it?"
"Do...do you really think it will be forever?" Clara stuttered.
There
was a feeling present deep inside Clara that depressed her to even
think about. A feeling that proved Clara's constant lack of
self-confidence. She couldn't help the overpowering feeling inching its
way closer to the surface making her question 'forever'. Surely nothing
lasts forever, does it? Clara looked up at Charlie and instantly the
depressing feeling found its way back to the deepest darkest depths of
her soul. Hiding. Where it seemed, it would remain. It was then that
Clara knew, every bad thing she had ever been told about young love and
its existence were wrong.
"Of course, Clara." Charlie said softly. "Without a doubt in my mind!"
At that moment, for possibly the first time in Her life, Clara was certain of one thing. Clara Elizabeth Sutton and
Charlie Michael Houston would be forever. Never ending. She promised herself, but sometimes promises were meant to be broken.
Clara
hadn't been back at the barn in fifteen years. She remembered that
promise she made to herself on that day nineteen years ago, she couldn't
help but hear it replaying in her head over and over again. Her and
Charlie would be forever, the word forever glued in her mind reminding
her nothing is everlasting. Bitter truth. Everything's temporary. Life's
temporary. Her promise was temporary. Broken not by her own hand, but
the cold, cruel, unforgiving hand of death.
"CLARA! HE'S GONE. HE'S GONE. GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVES HE'S GONE!"
Charlie's
sisters scream still ringing in her head. The sound of the phone
slamming onto the hardwood floor still ringing in her head. Her own
screams still painfully ringing in her head. Clara could still remember
the feeling of disbelief. Waiting to wake up from this unbearable
nightmare. Now, four days later, the realization of the situation sunk
deep inside
Clara, burning all the way down like a shot of
sixty-year-old whiskey. The unbearable life Clara couldn't bear to live
any longer. The pain alone was driving her to insanity. No more falling
asleep beside him. No more waking up beside him. No more Charlie...No
more Charlie. Clara didn't want to bare the reality of no more Charlie.
One
hand was still brushing over the half-faded carving again and again, a
Colt .45 weighing down the other. The feeling, Clara was certain was
gone for good, found its way the surface once more. Even thinking about
Charlie wouldn't send it back into hiding.
Clara, felt she would
do the world a favor. She slowly raised the revolver towards her face.
She hesitated, eventually putting the end of the gun in her mouth. She
closed her lips around the cold steel barrel. Using her thumb, she
slowly slid the hammer back until it clicked. Clara jumped at the sound
of the click, tears running down her cheek. She carefully wrapped her
finger around the trigger.
Charlie reached over slapping the alarm
clock blaring in his ear. His eyes were heavy, but he forced them open
and squinted at the clock. 4:01 AM. He threw off the covers and
climbed out of the motel bed, still dressed in the suit he wore the day
before. If it weren't for the storm he would have pushed his way
through to Colorado. Now, because of the delay, he had to make the
thirteen-hour drive in eleven with little sleep. Charlie slipped his
sock covered feet into his ten and a half black dress shoes one at a
time. He ran a brush through his hair a few times as he walked towards
the door grabbing his jacket off the hook jutting from the wall beside
it.
The cold Montana air was bitter on the bare of his arms and
face. He slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket zipping it up.
His car was the only one in the parking lot. This didn't surprise
Charlie; the motel didn't look too desirable from the road. He felt the
outsides of his pocket feeling for his keys, nothing. He reached in both
pockets for reassurance, nothing. He reached out and pulled on the door
handle, locked. He bent down peering through the passenger window of
his car, keys dangling from the ignition, laughing at him.
He
pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, glancing at the top left
corner, no signal. He remembered a phone book hanging from the pay phone
on the side of the motel building. The phone looked like it had been
ripped from the machine. He thumbed through the Yellow Pages. Gary's 24-hour locksmith $45 in-town special. He pulled a pen out of his pocked and scribbled the number on the back of his hand. Charlie hurried towards the office door.
"Of
course." Charlie mumbled as he pulled on the door. Locked. He banged on
the door with the side of his fist. Nothing. He knocked some more.
"Stop banging on the door, I'm coming." He heard a muffled man's voice coming from the dark hallway at the back of the office.
Charlie
stared at the hallway waiting for the voice's owner to appear through
the darkness. Light flooded the hall and a slim old man came out of a
door on the right back side of the hallway. It was the same guy that
checked Charlie into the room. He looked to be about seventy years old, a
cane assisting his limp. A pair of glasses sat across his nose. His
hair, or what he had left of it, was white as snow. The old man reached
beside the door and grabbed a key hanging from a hook. Charlie heard the
key twist in the keyhole and finally, the door unlocked.
"Sorry!" The old man said. He looked very unrested, eyes heavy and red.
"I'm
the only one left to run this old beat down building they call a
motel." He reached over hanging the key back on ring beside the door.
"Do you have a phone in here I could use?" Charlie said.
"I'm guessing somebody ripped the payphone out again?" Charlie nodded.
"Depends on who you're calling. Won't call out on long distance."
"Gary's Locksmith, do you know him?"
"I'll dial him up and send him out."
"Thanks." Charlie extended his hand, "I didn't get your name."
"Henry. Henry Jameson." Henry reached out and grabbed Charlie's hand. His grip was surprisingly firm.
"Charlie."
"There's
benches right outside the door, you can sit there until your help
arrives." Henry said pointing through the glass office door. Charlie
nodded and turned around swinging the door open.
Charlie reached
in his pocket pulling out a red Swiss Army pocket knife. Charlie sat
down on the cool hard bench turning the knife around in his hand,
opening and closing it. This knife had been with Charlie through all of
his fondest memories. It was an old knife, the age scratched and left
small dents on the surface. Charlie remembered the day his father gave
him the knife. He was thirteen years old and his dad was a young
forty-three on his death bed. "My father gave me this when I was around your age Charlie." He remembered his father saying. "And now, I want you to have it. Its old Charlie but it means the world to me, just like you."
And now it meant so much to Charlie. From that day forward that little
red knife never made it too far from Charlie's side and it never will a
promise he made to his father. Charlie would be buried with this knife. A
lot sooner than he expected.
Charlie watched as a red pickup truck drove onto the motel parking lot from the highway. On the side of the truck G RY' L CK ITH $45.00
was painted on the side of the truck in faded blue lettering with some
of the characters missing. The truck came to a halt in front of the
bench where Charlie was sitting. Charlie was now standing. The truck
door opened and a plump man in a red and white plaid shirt stepped out
with a clipboard in his hand.
"You locked your keys in your car?"
The man asked. The man had a strong northern accent. Being from West
Virginia Charlie had a hard time understanding and took a moment to put
it all together.
"Yes sir."
"Is that your car over there?" The man said pointing at Charlie's car.
"Yes sir, it is."
The
man turned around and opened the tool box on the back of his truck. He
pulled out a small black box and walked towards Charlie's car. Not
wanting to get in the way, Charlie stayed back at the bench. A few short
minutes later and the man was walking back towards Charlie latching his
little black box closed as he walked.
"She's unlocked."
Charlie reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. He handed the man a fifty-dollar bill.
"Thank
you, sir. Keep the change." Charlie said as he handed the man the
folded bill. The man nodded and climbed back into his truck and drove
off. Charlie watched the red pickup truck as it got smaller and smaller
until it disappeared up the mountain, the opposite way it had come.
Charlie
jogged over to his car. The driver side door was open. Charlie sat down
in his seat and slammed the door closed as he twisted the key until the
engine turned and started. Charlie pulled out onto the mountain highway
the way the truck went. It felt great to be back on the road. Charlie
frequently checked his phone for signal so he could call and check on
Clara, let her know he was still alive. For a moment, Charlie could
faintly smell smoke coming through the air vents in his car. The smell
faded for a bit and then, almost suddenly, it intensified. In the
distance, Charlie could see a cloud of thick smoke billowing above the
tree line into the barely lit sky.
Charlie drove a little further
until he saw a small dirt road off to the right leading to the area the
smoke seemed to be coming from. Charlie hesitated before proceeding up
the steep narrow road. The road eventually opened to a wide field with a
driveway that cut through the middle to the top of a hill where a house
sat. The smoke was rising above the house. Charlie didn't see emergency
response vehicles anywhere in the surrounding area, but there were two
vehicles parked in front of the house. Charlie assumed somebody was
home. He drove as fast as his car would go on the rough driveway.
Bouncing up and down the many ruts and hills. The tires seemed to leave
the ground for short periods of time. Charlie pushed on the breaks
sliding on the gravel to a stop. Charlie noticed a woman on the covered
porch attached to the front of the house. "Ma'am!" Charlie shouted. The
woman turned around and faced Charlie her whole face covered in soot
except for the trails her tears made from underneath her eyes down to
her chin. "Help please." the woman said so quiet that Charlie could
barely hear her. "Please." she said louder this time her sobs now
uncontrollable. Charlie pulled his phone from his pocket. He finally had
signal. Charlie dialed 911 from his phone.
"911…"
"There's a fire and I think somebodies still in the house." Charlie said before the operator could finish her greeting.
"Where's the location sir." Charlie remembered the road sign.
"Mountain Pass Trail off of Highway 23."
"Sir we have a vehicle in-route to your location arriving in about 45 minutes."
Charlie
hung up the phone and pulled his jacket off throwing it on the ground.
He ripped off his buttoned-up shirt and tied it around his mouth and
nose. Charlie ran upstairs and grabbed the woman who was no longer
making a sound. She was in shock. He carried her down the steps and laid
her beside his car. Charlie ran back on the porch and through the
opened front door. He could faintly hear a soft scream coming from
upstairs. The smoke was so thick he could hardly see anything in front
of him. He could smell the smoke through his shirt. He could taste it.
Charlie
ran up the stairs and into the first room. There seemed to be nobody in
there. The smoke was a lot thicker upstairs then it was downstairs.
Charlie ran out of the first room and into the next. It was the
bathroom. The shower curtain was closed so he quickly pulled it back. In
the bathtub was a little girl. She looked to be about eight years old.
She looked up at Charlie with tears running down her face. Her face too
was covered in soot. Charlie grabbed her and ran out the bathroom door.
The smoke was worse now and the heat was intense. Charlie ripped the
shirt off his face and put it over the girl's mouth and held his breath.
The fire was now in the hallway flames licking the wall. They had to
get out before the structure gave in. Charlie ran back down the stairs
towards the front door. The flames had completely engulfed the front
porch. There had to be a back door. Charlie couldn't hold his breath
much longer. He ran through the kitchen. There was the back door.
Charlie could hear the sound of the house caving in right behind them.
Charlie ran towards the door dodging falling debris.
DOOM. Charlie
fell to the ground and the girl went rolling from his arms. Charlie
looked back. The beam had fallen on his foot crushing it and pinning him
to the ground. No matter what he tried he couldn't free his leg. The
girl stood up. "RUN!" Charlie screamed. "RUN NOW!" The little girl
looked at him and ran out the back door. For a moment, relief rushed
over Charlie. Then pain. The most intense pain he'd ever felt in his
life. Not just from the fire, which was now all around him, but also of
his Clara. He would never see her again. How would she take it? Charlie
couldn't help but to weep. Not for himself, but for his sweet Clara.
Death was accepted by Charlie peacefully but the thought of Clara
weighed on him heavily until his very last breath. Until his world went
dark. Until the pain was no more. Until Charlie was no more. Just a
memory.
There was something about the sunset that sent a kind of
peace over Carter that nothing else possessed the power to do. Maybe it
was the perfectly blended mixture of colors by the sun as far as the eye
could see. The sky was the canvas but still didn't contain all the
color, some of it spilled out onto the Atlantic animated by the shifting
waters. Left. Right. Left. Right. Maybe it was the silent serenity and
therapeutic beauty the earth gifted to us despite how poorly we treated
her.
Carter and his wife would spend hours admiring the complex
beauty pressed closely together his arm around her and her head resting
on his shoulder. Sitting silently. Both amazed by the painting laid
before them, feeling as if they were part of it. These memories were
hard for Carter and ached to his very core. The very thought of not
being able to share moments like this with his sweet Elizabeth again.
Days
had passed since Carter had seen Elizabeth sitting on the hill. Sitting
alone. That was probably a good thing. The worst pain was being able to
see, but not touch her, not comfort her. Carter was warned his presence
would bring, to Elizabeth, painful memories. He tried to look on from a
distance but he had to be close. He had to feel like he was with her
again. But he couldn't bear to see her cry and not hold her. The painful
reality slowly set in, Carter would never again be able to hold
Elizabeth, at least not in this lifetime. Maybe another? If another
existed.
"Love will easily succumb a weak heart and mind." Carter turned around.
Amara
was standing behind him. Her long blonde hair was blowing wildly in the
wind, a few strays flying over her face. She was easy on the eyes. Her
ears were weirdly pointed at the ends. She was tall and slender and very
soft spoken. Her eyes were blue. Not like a blue Carter had ever seen
before but a blue so bright that it would seem you could see them from a
mile away.
Amara came to carter weeks ago, right after his
untimely death. She came to him with a proposition, one she said will
change the fate of mankind forever, but one she didn't explain much
further than that.
"This distraction must be erased from your
mind. Let her go Carter. Only you can release her. She's draining your
energy and energy is important to have to travel the road ahead, even in
death."
Death was such a cold word to Carter. A word that sent shivers every time her tongue spoke it.
"It might be easier if you would explain to me why I'm here."
"In time, that will be explained."
With
that, Amara slowly started walking down the hill. Carter pushed himself
up and sprinted after her. They walked silently down the hill where
Thain was waiting for them.
"That hill is no good for you Carter,
as we have discussed before. You will not complete you mission
successfully with a distracted mind. You must know this. Your love for
Elizabeth should be your motivation to do anything in your power to
protect her. To make sure she doesn't suffer the fate the world will
suffer if we aren't successful."
Thain had his back turned to his
company. His long silver hair waved in the wind, colored with hints of
the sunset. He was a tall man always wearing a white cloak with golden
designs trimming the edges. Thain hasn't spoke of his origins, only that
he needs Carter to successfully complete a mission he knows nothing
about. Anything to keep Elizabeth safe. He thought.
Charlie pushed
himself off the ground and to his feet. He felt very light, almost as
if he were floating. He looked around him, trying to remember what
happened. He was standing in a house, fire surrounding him not moving.
Everything was frozen. He reached his hand towards the fire to touch it
but his hand went through the flame not burning him. Charlie looked
down. The sight laid in front of him sent shivers down his spine. How
was this possible? Where was he? What happened? The questions passed
through his mind a hundred miles an hour. On the ground below him was
his lifeless body under piles of rubble. After seeing his body his
memory began to come back, foggy, but it was there.
Charlie
remembered a little girl trapped in the upstairs bath tub. He remembered
grabbing her and running down the stairs. But there was something over
her mouth. A shirt, his shirt. He remembered looking for something.
Looking for a way out. He remembered laying on the ground watching the
little girl run out the door. He was trapped. He saved her life. Charlie
felt a brief moment of relief brush over him. Brief only because the
thoughts of somebody he loved came back to him. Clara. Now he ached. His
whole body ached.
"Because of the courage, you bear that little girl is safe, Charlie." Somebody said from behind him.
Charlie
turned facing the speaker. In front of Charlie was a tall old man with
long silver hair. He was wearing a long white robe. In his hand, a staff
almost as tall as him.
"What you did was very brave and selfless."
"Who are you and how do you know my name?" Charlie demanded.
"My name is Thain and the world, as you know it, is in great danger."
"Danger?" Charlie said confused. "What kind of danger?"
"The
kind that will change the fate of this world for ever Charlie. Without
you it is not safe, nor is anybody who inhabits it including Clara."
Charlie didn't know what to say, didn't know what to believe.
"AM I..." Charlie hesitated. "Am I dead?"
"In this world, your life has come to an end and only your spirit remains."
"In this world?" Charlie asked.
"I
will explain more but first you must come with me, we have company
awaiting our arrival. Time is important and we don't have much of it
left."
Charlie remained silent for a moment not knowing what to
do. This decision was a heavy weight on Charlie's mind. If what the man
was telling him was true, then he had to help. What did he have to lose?
Nothing. If the world was in great danger the answer would be Clara. He
couldn't bear the thought of something happening to Clara because he
refused to believe what this strange man was saying.
"I'll do it but I want to see Clara again." The old man looked at him for a moment but to Charlie it felt like an eternity.
"I can grant your wish but not without first warning you, your presence brings even more painful memories to your loved ones."
"I just want to see her one more time, even if she doesn't know I'm there."
The
house Charlie was in disappeared, vanished and he was now standing in
an open field. The field looked familiar, like he had been there before.
Charlie look around until his eyes fell on an old structure that looked
like it used to be a barn. The old Miller barn. The memories came
suddenly to Charlie. This was Clara and Charlie's favorite spot. Charlie
remembered the carving on the post. He remembered the old knife his
father gave him. The old knife he used to carve their initials. He
remembered the odd shaped heart that surrounded the initials. He
remembered how hard it was to carve the curves of the heart with the
knife.
Clara was standing in front of the post her fingers rubbing
over the initials. Over and over. He could see that she was crying,
sobbing even. She had something in her other hand but it was hidden by
her side. Only when she lifted her arm did he see what it was. His Colt
.45 revolver. He bought the gun hoping Clara would never have to use it.
Better safe than sorry. He had shown how to safely handle a gun. He now
regretted ever buying it as she slipped the barrel into her mouth,
closing her lips over it.
"No Clara." Charlie shouted with little hope she would hear him.
"Please, don't!" Tears were running down Clara's cheek as she pulled the hammer back.
"NO!"
Charlie shouted. Clara dropped to her knees and pulled the gun free
from her lips and to her side. The gun slipped from her hands and she
continued to cry, louder now. Charlie too dropped to his knees and
looked towards the ground. He tried to cry but he couldn't. You can't
cry when your dead he guessed. How can you feel then? He didn't know if
he wanted to know the answer to that.
"I'm ready to go now. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to cause any more pain."
When
Charlie looked up he was facing a young man. Short brown hair. Brown
eyes. He wasn't very tall but he didn't look like a kid. He looked to be
in his twenties. Beside him was a woman. Long blonde hair. Her ears
were pointed, the points pushing through her hair. She wore a long white
dress that hid her feet. Charlie thought her choice of attire was odd
but then remembered what had just happened to him and suddenly it wasn't
so odd anymore.
The young man stretched his hand towards Charlie waiting for him to follow suit. Charlie grabbed the boys hand in his.
"Carter." The boy said.
"I'm Charlie." "And you are?" Charlie asked looking at the woman.
"My name is Amara."
"Nice to meet you two." Charlie said.
"There
is an evil greater than anything this world has ever witnessed." Thain
began. "One that has been at work for over two thousand years. An
ancient evil that longed for one thing, control. Control over everything
that was and is to come. This evil feeds off control, it needs it. This
evil possesses the power to turn any world to nothing but a vapor in no
longer time than it would take to blink your eye. In order for this
power to be destroyed we must fight it at a time where it wasn't as
powerful and in a world, that possess the power necessary to destroy it.
We are going to a land lost in time. A land full of great magic. This
evil was once thought to have been lost with this land, destroyed by the
people it once haunted. But the evil just laid silently regaining
strength, becoming stronger than ever imaginable. Now it's hungry and
its eyes have fallen on Earth.
There were many descendants of this
land brought to your world, but most of them have passed on. You two,
Carter and Charlie are the only two left and, in death, only you two can
travel back to this world. The current and future existence of
everything you love lies in your hands. You will have help through this
battle but it is your hands that draw the outcome. It is time to
prepare. We must travel to this world I speak of. Orbis."
Thain
raised his staff in the air and thrust the end to the ground. The end
that held a blue crystal, which was now glowing, surrounded by wood to
keep it in place. The ground began to shake and an enormous orange cloud
formed above them swirling like a cyclone. Everything around them
stretched towards the center of the cloud. Trees, buildings, water
stretched beyond recognition. The familiar world around them stretched
and disappeared into the sky, while a new unfamiliar one emerged.
They were standing in a field. Mountains littered the distant horizon in front of them.
The
first bit of air that seeped through partially closed lips and up
flared nostrils down to deflated lungs was evident the air was much
cleaner than what they were used to.
Thain turned around and his
company followed suit. They were now facing a giant grass covered hill.
Homes of both stone and wood scattered the hill sides, smoke billowing
from each of the variously sized chimneys jutting from the rooftops. A
cobble stone road cut straight through the middle of the hill. Up and
over, disappearing to the other side. At the top of the hill was a man
walking down the cobblestone path towards them. He was wearing a light
brown shirt tucked into dark brown slacks, A dark brown vest over his
shirt. Hanging from his side was a sword in a black sheath. The red
handle was all that was visible. His hair was shoulder length and dirty
blonde in color, his beard short and well-trimmed.
"Thain." The man said wrapping his rather large arms Thain's neck.
Thain returned the gesture. "It's been far too long."
"Sweet Amara." His arms too wrapped around Amara's neck and she too returned his gesture.
"Kirkless, you haven't changed a bit." Amara said.
Kirkless faced Charlie and Carter. "Where are my manners?" he asked.
"Greetings and welcome to the town of Moontis."
"My name is Kirkless and I am the overseer of this town."
"Follow me, you wouldn't want to be beyond the hill after nightfall."
The
sky was beginning to grow dark as the sun sunk behind the distant
mountains. They followed Kirkless to the top of the hill where the
biggest house sat. Cylindrical towers of white stone rose up on both
sides of the door. Conned shaped roofs on top. The rest of the house
were straight walls that wrapped around in a retangle meeting on the
other side of the door and stretched up at least three stories. The
architecture was beautiful.
The inside of the house was rather warm, a relief from the bitter cold outside.
"Eien, show them to their rooms please." Kirkless called to a boy sitting next to the fire.
"You need rest. There's much planning tomorrow."
Charlie
followed the boy up the stairs, Carter close behind him. The stairs
curved around towards the top. When they reached the landing at top
there were two doors one on each side.
"Here you are sirs. I will
keep your fires stocked throughout the night. Sleep in peace." Eien
bowed and disappeared down the stairs.
Charlie took the room to
the left and Carter took the other. The room was rather big. A bed sat
on the south wall facing a stone fireplace, a window sat on the west
wall. On the bed were clothes. Charlie changed and laid down. He
couldn't help but think of Clara and Carter couldn't help but think of
Elizabeth. They were alive again, able to cry again. Both men wept that
night, wept until their eyes could no longer remain open. Until the soft
glow of the fire faded between slowly closing lids and the conscious
world faded.
Chapter 2
The world was different for Clara.
Different in a way she would have never thought of happening. Nobody wanted to
think of losing their loved ones. Clara lost her world. Buried it six feet
underground in a pine box under an upright slab of stone.
"Mrs. Houston, I'm sure you would be
quite disturbed in viewing the body." The examiner said in a tone that
made Clara believe he repeated that phrase often.
He had a smooth, uncomfortable ease to his
voice, but tried to look as sympathetic as possible. She would give him that,
although his look did not match his voice. His brown eyes squinted slightly
starring straight through her. His hands were fidgeting in front of him thumbs
moving back and forth over each other as if they were dancing.
"The body has a name,
you know." Clara said with her head bowed, no longer looking at the examiner.
"Right." She heard
him say slowly drawing out the middle if the word.
"Charlie. In case you
did not know." Clara snapped.
"I am aware of that
Mrs. Houston. I have examined his personal file." The doctor said softly.
"I'm sorry. It's been a
tough week for me." Clara said brushing her flat hands down her shirt as
if to straighten out the wrinkles but obviously, a nervous gesture.
"He's charred, beyond
recognition from the fire Mrs. Houston."
"Please call me
Clair." Clara interrupted.
"Right. Sorry Clair. He's hardly recognizable.
It may hurt more than help at this point."
"I want to see."
"If you insist."
They walked down the dimly lit
hallway until they reached a double door at the end. The examiner pushed a red
button below a small speaker on the left side of the double doors. "It's
Doctor Harvey." He said his mouth just inches from the speaker, pressing
the button as he spoke. Moments later the doors swung open to reveal a very
cold room with multiple wheeled tables, zipped bags laid upon them. Body bags.
The room smelled like death.
They walked towards the back
wall to a table with an unzipped bag. Clara reluctantly took a step towards the
bag to get a closer look. In the open mouth of the bag was the charred remains
of the man she fell in love with. The man she still loved. The doctor was right,
he was quite unrecognizable. The moment Clara laid eyes on what laid in front
of her she could feel her stomach trying to push up the burger she had for
lunch but she couldn't look away. She could still make out some of the features
of Charlies face. The realization hit her once more. The sick feeling
intensified and before Clara could say anything she turned. The contents of her
stomach ejected her mouth and spread across the floor in front of her.
"I’m sorry." Clara
said through sobs.
"Understanding Mrs.
Hou...er...Claire."
"Just follow me, I will
have somebody clean it up."
Doctor Harvey lead Clair
back through the double doors and down the hall through to the waiting room.
"Are you going to be OK
Claire?" Doctor Harvey asked.
"Yes...Thank you."
Six days after the funeral, Clara had an
appointment with a psychiatrist in Charleston. 'Dr. Horrow is a well-respected therapist that can provide, for you,
the help you need Claire.' she remembered her mother say. Clara was certain
her mother didn't really care as much for her as she did her own reputation in
the upper-class community which she smothered her life in. The strange looks
she would get from her friends if they found out her daughter had gone off the
deep end. Clara didn’t think a therapist is what she really needed, but she
would see him for one purpose; to keep her mother off her back.
At a quarter until noon, Clara was
standing on the sidewalk in front of the Laidley Tower. The glassy building
rose up in front of her, reaching for the sky. Clara fetched the folded paper
from her back pocket and unfolded it. She scanned the email print out looking
for a room number or anything that would tell her where Dr. Harrow's office
was.
Name: Dr. Leanord Harrow
Location: Laidley Tower -
Charlestion, WV
Room: 12-122
Clara pushed open the large
double glass door. The room she walked into was rather large, marble columns
towering to the ceiling high above her head. A few yards in front of the door
was a red oak desk with a well-dressed woman hiding behind it. She looked up from her screen when Clara
approached the desk. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile glued
to her face.
"I'm looking for Dr.
Harrow's office, room 12-122."
"Around the corner are
the elevators. Dr. Horrow's office is on the twelfth floor, room one
twenty-two."
"Thanks." Clara
said as she walked away.
Clara stepped out of the
elevator and onto the twelfth floor. A long hallway stretched down both sides,
doors lining the walls all the way down. Beside each door was a number placard.
Clara walked down the hall until she saw room one twenty-two. Behind the door
was a well-lit room with a desk centered on a wall, L.L. Harrow was written in large silver letters above the receptionist’s
desk on a garnet wall. Doctor of Psychology
written in smaller silver letters below that.
"I have an appointment
with Dr. Harrow." Clara said approaching the desk.
The receptionist had a metal
name card, Lacy Anderson stitched in gold letters on the face of it. Her hair
was black, in a ponytail behind her head.
"You can wait for him
over there she said, pointing to three chairs lined among the east wall,
overlooking the city buildings and streets below.
Just the thought of being twelve
stores up sickened her so she didn't dare approach the window. The table across
from where she was now sitting was scattered with various magazines, some more
popular titles she’s seen and read before and some she has not, like, Understanding Psychology and The Human Brain: A Mystery. On the
bottom shelf of the table was a newspaper. The
Charleston Chronicle. The headline in big, black, bold letters read: Who Will It Be? The cover story on every
television screen and newspaper front page in America, even possibly, the world
was the American presidential election and it was the same for this newspaper.
Under the headline was a picture. On the left stood a man, dressed in a nice
pressed suit, white shirt under a black blazer red tie ran from his neck disappearing
behind the blazer. He was pointing towards the photographer, towards the reader
his facial expression read seriousness with a touch of humor. On the right of
the picture a woman stood slightly turned, back towards her opponent looking at
the reader, eyes
narrowed a slight smile ran
across her face slightly parted to show a glimpse of white. Her shoulder length
black hair, nicely dressed, sat along her shoulders. Her arms were crossed
adding a kind of seriousness to her pose.
Underneath the pictures in
black, all capital, letters were: Henry
L. Harris VS. Jean E. Carter: The Battle for the Oval Office. Clara had
been so caught up in what was going on in her life that she hadn't given any
thought to who she supported.
"Mrs. Houston?"
Clara looked up from her newspaper.
In front of her was a tall
man, black hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to peer straight through her.
He was well dressed in a dark blue suit.
"Yes, that’s me. Nice
to meet you." Clara said standing up stretching out her hand to grasp his.
"Certainly Mrs.
Houston. Right this way." He said throwing his open hand towards a brown
leather chair in the center of the room.
Windows stretched across the front of the
room from west wall to east wall. The view was both spectacular and terrifying.
Clara was glad the chairs pointed the opposite way.
Clara spent the next hour
answering the doctor’s questions and telling him about how she feels, or as
much as she could tell without getting too upset. She obviously didn’t mention
the gun but she did mention going to the barn. She mentioned how she thought
she heard Charlie’s voice coming from the field but she knew it wasn’t really
him.
The doctor concluded by
telling her it was okay to feel the way she did, everyone did when they lost
somebody close to them. He told her the he didn’t think the loss would have and
long term effects on her mentally and that he didn’t think they needed another
session but it certainly wouldn’t hurt anything. Of course, Clara thought. Wouldn’t
hurt your pockets any.
It was definitely a waste of
money Clara thought. She was a mess and she would admit that, but she was never
one to talk about her feelings to anybody. Anybody but Charlie. She was
regaining her strength back day-by-day and that’s why she thought she would be
okay.
Charlie was woken by a knock
at the bedroom door. When he opened his eyes he had hoped it was all a dream
but fireplace and the window that peered out across the unfamiliar world beyond
it that, now, seemed to be covered in snow.
Eien was behind the door
when Charlie opened it.
“I pray your sleep was
refreshing my lord.”Eien said.
I’ve never been called ‘lord’ before, Charlie thought but he
brushed it away.
“I slept nice, Eien,
Thanks.” Charlie surprisingly did sleep nice.
Eien was a young boy, no
more than 13. He had short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes like Amara.
“Follow me my lord,
breakfast is being served.”
Charlie followed Eien down
the spiraling stairs through the room they came into the night before and into a
dining hall with a table big enough to seat fifty but only a handful were
sitting with plates of steaming food laying in front of them. Thain, Kirkless,
Amara and Carter were already seated.
“Well sit down boy, we’ve
waited long enough for you.” Thain said smiling.
“I pray you slept well boy.”
Kirkless said.
“Very well, Thank you.”
Charlie sat down and looked
at his plate of food. He expected it to be different food than back home. Eggs,
bacon and grits laid on the plate in front of him, no different than back home.
In front of his plate was another plate piled with toasted bread.
“Eien’s a good boy.” Charlie
said, ending the awkward silence.
“That he is boy.” Thain
said.
“He lost his parents when
his village was burned down by The Yaman during The War of Great Blood many
seasons ago. He was but a youngling when one of my guardsmen spotted him on a
sweep through the village. I’ve raised him of my own since then.”Kirkless explained.
“What’s step one?” Carter
asked.
“Why, step one was getting
you two fellows here.” Thain laughed.
“What’s next?” Carter didn’t
seem too amused.
Thain cleared his throat.
“We fear the great evil power has already reached Earth and has started preying
on weak minds.”
“Powerful weak minds.”
Kirkless added.
“Indeed.” Thain finished
“Preying?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, that’s what they do.
Prey.” Thain said.
“These evil beings we speak
of are known as The Malum and they cannot physically be seen. They find a body
to attach themselves too. The host remains completely functional, only with a
different mind, turning on everyone they have ever known, or loved.” Kirkless
explained.
“Their leader, Tenebris
seeks an influential body, somebody already in power. I fear it may be too late
once he finds his host. He would have already bended its mind, turning the
whole world against one another.” Thain warned.
The air was much colder out
today than the day before. White show covered the countryside stretching far
out towards the distant northern mountain as well as behind them towards the
mountains there. The sky was hazed over with thick grey clouds. Thick so, the
sun couldn’t be seen yet its light still covered the land dimly.
“Get used to the weather
lords.” A voice called from behind them.
“All four seasons possess
days like these, yet some seasons also bring days of warmth, so warm sometimes
that you may find it hard of breath. The coldest season is yet upon us and
bitter it is my lords.” The man behind them was short, barely pushing five foot
it seemed.
Carter remembered seeing him
in the hall at the far end of the table opposite from where he sat. Where he
sat listening to everyone else talk wishing he were back on Earth where he
belonged. Wishing it were all a dream. He had barely touched his
breakfast that morning, he
wasn’t very hungry nor was he in the mood for anymore history lessons.
“My name is Sir Landrick
Alstein.” The stranger said.
He had long blonde hair that
fell below his shoulders. A smile slightly parted his lips. His skin was pale
white. He wore brown pants tucked into brown boots that stretched just a few
inches below his knee. He had a tan shirt tucked into his pants, under a green
vest that matched his eyes.
“My names Carter.” Carter
said stretching his arm towards the stranger. The man’s grip was firm.
“And my names Charlie.”
Charlie added stretching his hand out as well.
“Lord Charlie and Lord
Carter, it’s my pleasure.” Sir Landrick said bowing slightly.
“Why do you call us lords?”
Carter asked.
“That’s what you are, lords.
The prophesized saviors of the Sun’s four worlds.” Sir Landrick explained.
“Today at high sun you two
will meet me and the other swordsmen in the training yard, we have much to
catch up on.”
Points: 133
Reviews: 45
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