Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25825682-20150606141940

I. The Shadow on the Wall

Upon a dreary evening, while the tide rushed in and out along the barren beach, a young woman walked bearing a forlorn stare, feeling the cold, fine sand brush against her feet. She finally halted at the water's edge. Entranced by the water's reflection, she slowly moved forward, descending into the murky bay, releasing herself from the world as the tide settled.

In the month of April, around the afternoon, Alexander sat on the bench gazing at the bright, sand beach, with his green eyes. He leaned forward, facing the ground as his crop-cut, sandy-blond hair dangled over the sides of his fresh face. To him, Alki seemed like any other place in Seattle. The only noticeable thing to him was the remodeled, octagonal lighthouse. Owned by the Viser family matriarch Igia Viser, it could overshadow any tourist at an estimated 11.277 meters.

He was frustrated with the therapy he attended. Nothing seemed to help identify whether he had a mental disorder or just a speech dysfunction. At that time, a deep blue colored car drove into the parking lot behind him. Shoes hit the concrete walkway coming to him, Alexander looked over, “Mom, why are you h-here?”

“So this is where you were,” she said with relief. "The therapist called and told me you missed two sessions." Alexander turned his head from her, his eyes planning an escape from the confines of the topic.

He stood up, putting his hands in his jacket pocket. “I only missed two sessions, it doesn't m-m-matter,” he barked, walking away from her.

Her eyes narrowed at his words, "What has gotten into you? You've never walked away, dismissing me!"

Alexander leaned on his left hip, attempting to understand her side. "The t-treatment just isn’t working, my stuttering hasn’t stopped.”

“If you honestly feel that way, then I’ll call the therapist,” she said, putting her right hand to the left side of his face. Alexander wanted to agree, but could not muster the confidence to say it. “Don’t forget, in July you’re going to stay with your father in London.”

“I know,” he replied.

The next morning, downstairs in a quaint two-story home, Alexander dressed in an orange T-shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket while wearing a black necklace choker; and ran down the hall, passing the kitchen. In doing so, he heard drops of water. He discovered a leak in the ceiling’s corner. Seeing the time on the microwave, he hastily left. In the increasing rainfall, Alexander assumed he would see Olemilia at school. She was always a good friend of his and knew she would give him a ride home.

Later that day when school ended, Alexander and Olemilia got into her car. Once she started the car, he peered out the window, noticing a student come to them. Alexander made out a messy, brown haired teen in faded clothing, coming up to his side of the car, "T-T-That isn't Arnold is it?"

At Alexander's side window, Arnold tapped on it and looked in with his blue eyes, "Could I get a lift home?"

Olemilia saw Alexander’s mouth turn into a slight frown, as she unlocked the back door, “I can’t just leave him out there, Alex.”

Arnold entered like a whirlwind and sat in the back seat, "I appreciate this Mili."

They sat quietly in the car while she drove away. She felt the tension between Alexander and Arnold, “Great match last Saturday.”

"Scoring that goal was nothing special," he proudly stated. "Since I replaced Eathan my skills have been noticed more. Now it's the Seattle Sounders soccer camp I can't wait for."

Olemilia took notice of Alexander discomfort. A look of concern came upon her, “I’m sure Eathan wasn’t trying to overshadow you, Arnold. Being active on the team probably helped manage his asthma.”

Arnold sat back, tapping his finger on the seat, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

With a glazed look, Alexander preferred a change of topic. Examining the dashboard, “No offense, b-but this isn’t a captivating t-topic to listen to,” he remarked.

“Who put a stick up your ass, or are you just used to it,” Arnold replied, his brow slightly curved inward.

Alexander glared back in his direction. Then gathering Olemilia’s concern to diffuse the situation, he said, “I’d rather t-talk about something that d-doesn’t remind me of Eathan’s death.”

“Whatever...,” Arnold complied.

Fixing her bright, red hair, "Anyway, I could help you get to the camp, but isn't it expensive to get there?"

Putting his gaze back on Olemilia, "That's right it is... I'll figure it out," Arnold responded.

Glancing over at Alexander, a smile came to her face. She nudged him, "So any ideas on the project, for Mr. Langley?"

“I figured I’d do it on the lighthouse,” he said appealingly, “You c-could help if you want.”

She shrugged, “Sure sounds like a plan.”

Crossing his arms sharply, “Why’d you pick that of all places? That Viser family’s weird.” Arnold asked derisively.

Alexander darted his eyes back at him. He knew Arnold referred to the rumors surrounding the Viser family. With their queer, pale skin and mysterious disposition, this painted outlandish stories about dark ceremonies done under their influence. "The lighthouse has a lot of his-s-story in it," moving his eyes back toward the window. "That’s why I picked it." The ride remained tense for those two the rest of the way.

Later, at home, Alexander dropped his backpack. He sat on the floor with a sullen face. He could never forget how Arnold and the others made fun of him for most of his life. One particular incident, he remembered, laying on the school floor with his pants off and the crowd of students mocking him. He recalled Eathan’s heterochromatic eyes, seeing this and then coming over to help him.

Water drops hit the kitchen floor, which startled Alexander out of his recollection. He grabbed his backpack and went upstairs. In his room, he sat at his desk facing the laptop, leaned back in his seat and stared ceilingward. That past reflection made him remember Eathan before he was bound in duct tape and killed. He took out a picture from his desk drawer that showed him and Olemilia with Eathan a year ago. Staring at the picture, he realized he needed permission from Igia Viser to enter the lighthouse and typed the email to send to her.

On a rainy April 23rd, that late afternoon the sky was a dark gray, Alexander went up the hill surrounded by a dark forest, holding his body. A strong wind thundered down the street, making the tree branches hiss and dispersing the rain into a silvery mist around the manor. This was Ravenwood manor, with its gambrel roof and curved eaves that the Viser family lived in. Walking onto the porch, he rapped at the door. While he waited, he noticed how immaculate the Dutch garden was even after the storms this month. It did not seem ordinary to him that a garden could sojourn unaffected by rainfall.

Before long, the door opened to Igia Viser, a woman of fair complexion with a piece of wavy, raven-black hair hanging over her left shoulder. Despite the loss of her youngest child and the departure of the eldest, she carried her demeanor well. Acknowledging his drenched exterior took her aback, "Alexander, my word. Come in dear." After closing the door, she retrieved his jacket and put it in the coat closet.

After gathering the Dutch accent in her voice, which he was accustomed to hearing from Eathan, Alexander overheard another familiar voice speak out from the back room. The voice was fully mature, yet sounded fresh. Accompanying the young male voice was the brisk tapping of Converse shoes.

“Oh, hey Alex,” the young man said, not expecting him.

Alexander wiped the water off his face with his shirt. “M-Mr. Langley, what are you d-doing here?” he asked.

“Jack came by to help with matters concerning the lighthouse,” stated Igia, softly. “Now I’m sure you came by for more than just a casual visit.”

“I-I was hoping you could, w-w-well," scratching his head, "allow me inside the lighthouse." Alexander’s lips tightened, waiting.

She instantly started, “The tours are not scheduled until July.”

Alexander leaned on his left hip. “I have to do a p-project for his-s-story class and I need p-private access,” he stated. Moving a few steps closer to impress as if his physical presence portrayed his seriousness, “Normally I wouldn’t ask this, b-but I need t-the information to obtain the credits to intern at the h-h-historical society.”

Igia looked oddly at him as he stood apprehensively. "I see no problem with that, but it will have to be on the 27th."

Alexander's gaze shifted. "Oh, t-that's fine, I guess.” Focusing back to her, he caught a glimpse of an odd insignia on her left wrist, barely protruding out from her blouse sleeve. The insignia reminded him of the Roman numeral five with branches around it.

Casually, Jack went to the door, but there was a sign of intent to reach it quickly. Before leaving, he faced Alexander with his gray eyes, saying, “About your project Alex...” He spoke so only Alexander could hear. “Maybe it’s best to do it on something else.”

With those words, Jack left the manor. Alexander raised an eyebrow to Jack’s suggestion. It did not make sense to him why his teacher would advise something else since the project was the student’s choice. Igia then interrupted his thought.

"If you can, I have a favor that needs doing since I'll be too busy," she claimed. Igia had gotten a black, leather-covered book from the main hall. Approaching Alexander, she said, “You’ve been like another son to me, this is why I want you to give this book to Jack. He left without taking it.”

He retrieved the book, asking, “Sure, but why?”

“A favor to a friend,” she stated. As she saw him off, “Stay safe.” Examining the book and the strange lock on the cover which bore the same insignia, Alexander could only imagine the secrets it held within.

Later that day, as the torrential midnight drew closer, Alexander was in his room working on his part of the project from his laptop. He had gotten an email from the Southwest Seattle Historical Society, asking that he give a vocal presentation of his project. A flood of dread washed over him. Not only did his project have to be above reproach, but now they requested him to vocalize it. Alexander sighed and imagined himself being laughed out of his presentation, for fumbling on every word.

He considered going back to therapy, but the Xanax he took before caused a brief addiction and he never wanted to experience that again. He held his head, feeling ashamed he had developed this deficiency. The TV was on across from him showing the Channel 4 King Five News, the top story being broadcast by the blond anchorwoman.

''Tragic news in Alki this evening a report just in, a body has been found within Elliot Bay this morning. The body retrieved from the water was identified as Padma Langley, the bank manager who disappeared a month ago. Sources tell us she had drowned. The police investigating the scene gave no comment on whether this death is related to the disappearances of two other citizens from West Seattle or not. Though we were told, a set of bare footprints persisted close behind the woman’s footprints. A reporter of ours asked Lt. Xavier Moss, who investigated Eathan Viser's death, is this victim more of the killers work or something else. He had this to tell us.''

The screen switched over to video footage of a police press conference on a brusque, dark haired man at the podium.

''There was no correlating evidence connecting this incident to the other disappearances. We are not ready to say whether Padma’s death was suicide or homicide. I will answer no more questions on the matter.''

Overhearing the news story, his throat constricted. He sat back, feeling as if a bullet went through his chest. Padma was his next-door neighbor, who was married to Ken Langley, Jack’s older brother, and always babysat him when his parents were busy. Imagining her husband would be devastated by the news and knowing Ken and Jack were estranged for some reason. Alexander felt an obligation to visit him.

Outside his house, Alexander turns back to lock the door, hearing the winds cry across the rooftops. He crossed the wet yards and went to the Langley home. Ringing the doorbell, he called out, “Mr. Langley, it’s Alexander.”

The curtain of the window moved. A young, vigorous adult looked out at him and then let the curtain fall. A voice spoke through the door, “You’re violating the restraining order.” In time, the front door was open, “Alex, what are you doing here?” Ken asked. “I thought you were Jack pestering me again.”

“Just w-wondering if you needed c-company or something,” he replied. Ken sighed and let him inside. Coming in, Alexander stood away from the living area. He never saw it look so horrendous. “I’m s-s-sorry about Padma,” he consoled. Ken stood near the picture case, staring longingly at Padma’s image, “Thank you.”

Worried for his mental state, Alexander offered, “If you need, you c-can come over to my house. To help you get through this.” Ken’s eyes moved to the lower right corner. Eventually, accepting the offer, they soon left.

In Alexander’s house, both sat on the sofa. “I should have searched harder for her. Otherwise, she’d still be here.” Ken said.

“You can’t blame yourself for her death. No one knew that would happen.”

“I know, it’s just been hard with this fever and hearing that she’s dead… Do you think if I paid more attention to what she said, I would’ve found her?”

“What did she say?”

“Something about answering no and it whispering to her. I don’t know. She was too incoherent to be understood. If paid more attention to her instead to my brother's involvement with Igia, I could’ve understood her better.” Feeling overheated, “Where’s your bathroom?"

From the tone, Alexander assumed Ken did not like Igia. He wanted to ask about that yet thought it would be a bad time. “I-It’s upstairs to the right,” Alexander observed Ken as he went upstairs. He’s like the healthiest person I know, it’s weird to see him sick.

Minutes passed, Alexander sat from eleven fifty-four to midnight, when in spite of the leak in the kitchen that started up again, he felt drowsy. He wondered why Ken was taking so long and felt a distinct anxiety. Around twelve o’clock he dropped asleep, for it was from an imagined bondage that his mind leaped when the house grew hideous with malefic ululation. Alexander awoke to a crash and clatter of noises from upstairs. The agonized moans fled while the thought of Ken upstairs worried him. Rushing up to the bathroom; the door appeared inaccessible, “M-M-Mr. Langley, Mr. Langley.”

With no answer, he set his ear to the door. The sink water running, Alexander feared he committed suicide and rammed his shoulder against the door several times, before getting in. The cabinet mirror was in the corner on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and all of the cabinet’s content was scattered there. Despite all of this, Ken was nowhere to be found. At first thought, Alexander assumed he merely left, however, believed he would have heard the front door open and close. The back door was also out of the question since it had a broken screen.

He stepped in carefully and found something peculiar, pairs of bare, dirty footsteps leading into the bathroom. Then an unexpected flicker came from the bathroom light, Alexander withdrew to the door trembling. In the rapid blinking of the sporadic light, he saw his shadow on the wall while the glare threw another shadow vividly against the wall, which his gaze never drifted from. Alexander could not understand it, for the shadow was not Ken’s, yet had a human shape nearly identical to his own. Shifting his eyes to the right to get a glimpse of the shadows origin; he made out it was a person, but not wholly human. The light soon settled when Alexander looked toward the fiendish obscurity. To his bewilderment the being was gone, the only thing it left were naked, sandy footprints on the floor. He followed them.

Back downstairs, the footprints seemed to have come from the kitchen. Alexander followed the path, feeling the taste of cold sweat at the corner of his mouth, only to come back to the leak from earlier. Wiping his eyes, he opened them and saw the footprint trail had vanished. However, one thing in that night was true, Ken Langley left no trace of himself behind, nor was there any apparent departure from the house. He was never heard from again.

'''II. The Terror Incarnate'''

On April 27th, it was a very dull and sodden day, the tides on Alki beach gushed forth on the shore. The silver linings were dim as the clouds grew thick. A noise of reverberation went through the sky. On this day, Alexander was in the car with Olemilia heading for the lighthouse. It felt like the darkness was creeping in around him. Thinking, if he had not forced Ken to come over he would still be here. Alexander shivered and brooded on that mind-blasting shadow, hoping this trip would help him forget the horrendous experience.

In a short time, Alexander realized he should tell someone. Still, he chose to exclude details of the shadow, wanting to forget about it. During the drive, Olemilia listened to his story. Alexander saw from the beginning that she was engrossed and sympathetic when he had finished she analyzed the scenario. Her advice was practical for she recommended telling his story to the police. On her initiative, he decided to do so when he could.

Getting out of the car, they approached the cream-colored construct that had a roof peak slanting down at an angle. Alexander got distracted after seeing Igia conversing with someone under the porch canopy. Sighing deeply, he muttered indistinct words. After speaking to Igia, Arnold saw them coming up to the entrance and went to meet them. "Hey Alex, you made it," Arnold said, slapping Alexander on the back in jest.

Before Alexander could protest, Olemilia said, "Arnold has been staying with me. The reason he's here is because I allowed him to be part of our project. He just needed time away from his home for a few nights." Igia soon approached them. Alexander chose to drop the whole matter as she led them to the front door. Inside the lighthouse, they beheld the old, yet comfortable interior while Igia locked the door behind them. They removed their coats, placing them on the golden coat hooks that clung to the gloomy, dark blue walls. The black and white linoleum floor had a faded appearance. A doorway was on all three sides of the room. One allowed entry into the foyer, another led into the kitchen and the last directed you into the living area.

While Igia gave them a tour of the main floor, she stated, “It was soon after my family left the Netherlands they moved into Massachusetts. Afterward, they decided to settle in Seattle and soon acquired this lighthouse.”

During the tour, Alexander took some pictures. He paused for a brief moment, overhearing soft whispers underneath Igia’s voice. The words brought a foreboding atmosphere around Alexander, for the verses seemed to be from a realm beyond this one, where only the beings that dwelled within its baleful domain could understand. Verbose murmurs rushed down the hall from behind him. The noise was familiar, like the demonic rhythm from his house. He stepped back, becoming wary of the chorus. Listening to the whispers, he mentally repeated that hellish crescendo from April 23rd. To suppress it, he moved ahead.

They came to rest in the main foyer. Igia looked over and did not seem pleased with Arnold, "I see you found the door to the cellar," she said, politely imploring him to get off it.

Curious to see within it, Alexander asked, "Y-Y-You don't mind if we take a look inside?"

"I’m afraid you can’t.” Igia went on to explain, “Even though I kept it clean, my sons often left it cluttered when they spent nights here. With a faulty lighting and priceless antiques, you might get hurt.”

Zephyrs soon hit the lighthouse; the blast shook the windows, and a loud slam resonated from the upper floor. “That was the upstairs window,” Igia stated.

“Everyone wait here while I’ll go shut it.” Igia kept an undeterred demeanor as she walked out of the foyer, leaving the three of them behind.

Ten minutes had gone by, Alexander attentively scanned the room and wondered where Igia could be. He noticed Olemilia checking the time on her phone, seeming uncomfortable leaning against the sofa’s right arm, “Is something wrong?”

She glanced over to him, “This place makes me uneasy...”

“Heh, Mili’s paranoid,” teased Arnold, rotating the vintage globe. “It’s only gusts of wind.”

She looked at them, slightly nettled, “I mean this place feels… strange. I’m going to go look for her so we can leave.”

“No, I’ll go. I’m about ready to leave this place,” Alexander volunteered, leaving the foyer.

Alexander searched the main floor and could smell staleness in the air, this feeling made his mouth dry. Finding a staircase within the adjacent corridor, he ventured up them. The top floor appeared to expand as the air grew heavier around him. He trekked further, but then the lights began flickering until shutting off completely. This darkness reminded Alexander of the horror from four days ago. He grabbed his hand, so it would stop shaking. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream, echoed throughout the hallway. The sound froze his heart, making him rush back down the hall, away from the shriek.

Arriving at the window, Igia referred to earlier, he found it was locked. At first assumption, it would have appeared Igia closed the window, but for it to have been blown open, he could not find any evidence of water near it. Moving to the first room nearest him, believing Igia would be in there, he flipped on the light switch by the doorway that surprisingly worked. The study was timeworn as it held a bookcase against the wall, a sofa and a table with an antique mirror on it. With the room displaying portraits of Viser ancestors, he saw one of Eathan with his older brother. Gleams blinked behind the mirror. Alexander glimpsed behind it, spotting a black, obscurely designed key taped to the back.

Wanting to get a better look, he snapped it off. Alexander observed the key, believing it to be an antique and stuffed it into his back pocket for later research. A form soon brushed by his peripheral gaze. Alexander spotted Ken in the doorway. As he went to the door, the light started to flicker uncontrollably. The failing light produced the ominous shadow onto the wall near him. Ken had vanished while the malevolent obscurity became posted near the doorway. Alexander backed away, reminded of his ghastly encounter that night in his house. A mixture of guilt and fear encumbered him. He stopped automatically, lacking the thoughts to retreat, yet took umbrage against it.

His mind was in as much chaos as the thunderstorm outside. The idea of what that demoniac shadow could do petrified him. In the midst of his turmoil, a terrific lightning bolt went by the window, which inexplicably made the shadow nonexistent. Breathing heavy, Alexander quickly left the study. He ventured down the corridor with his hands trembling. To the point, he hardly felt the wall as he tried to navigate through the darkness. Near the other end of the hall, he sighted Igia from around the corner, coming out of a closed off room. She reached into her pocket and took out a strange black key. Concealing himself behind the wall, he could make out the shadow of an adolescent female or thin male, stretching out from the chthonian like chamber.

Alexander covered his mouth to mask his breaths as he heard her mutter something, “… the oath under the star.” Getting a glimpse of the room’s interior, it was dark, but he perceived an armoire and the foot of a bedpost in front of the armoire. Suddenly, he experienced a shortness of breath. Images of Alki beach in distorted twilight assaulted his mind. Seeing triplets of everything, he heeded a tumultuous chant that sounded primeval. Alexander rested back against the wall, hearing Igia’s footsteps coming closer and then made his way out of sight, going back downstairs.

Back in the foyer, Olemilia watched Alexander sit languidly on the sofa. “Are you alright, you look pale," she asked.

“I-I-I’m fine,” he tilted back. “Any of you hear a scream?”

“A scream?” she asked.

“All I heard was the ruckus of your feet overhead,” Arnold stated.

Suddenly, Alexander’s phone vibrated. He saw it was a voicemail from his therapist. Listening to the message left him bewildered. His therapist said he was relieved Alexander chose to continue the therapy. Igia soon came back into the foyer, "I trust you’re getting everything you need.”

Alexander went silent. Realizing he had to respond to come off ordinary, "I-I-I think we got enough." Igia detected how late it was getting and offered to show them out.

At home, Alexander bypassed his mother who stood, looking over the mail. The moment she spoke to him, he paused. “You’re home late,” she teased.

“I was d-doing school work,” he muttered back. “Mom, did you call my therapist?” His mother’s eyes softened, “Alex...”

“You d-did call him! Why... I told you I’m sick of it!”

“Alex, calm down. I just think if you give it another chance, with a more positive attitude, it could help,” she said. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened when you were twelve.”

Alexander clenched his fists and stormed upstairs, recalling his suicide attempt three years ago, to escape the ridicule. “J-J-Just leave me alone from now on! That's w-w-why I wish Eathan were alive,” he slammed his bedroom door. Mortified his mother brought up that incident, he could not help but feel self-disgust for being this way. For the remainder of the evening, he chose to isolate himself.

When nightfall arrived over the beach as the storm passed, Arnold crept swiftly up to the lighthouse. He used a hairpin and a small knife to break the lock. While he removed his hood, Arnold took out a cell phone and used its flashlight to pierce the darkness. Walking over toward the cellar door, whatever is down here, is going to be my ticket away from that drunk at home. He lifted the door and went in.

Arnold gawked at the collection of antiques within the cellar. At that time, he heard something and aimed his light at the upper right wainscot, finding a leak. Ignoring it, he began picking through the clutter for valuables. He did not find anything he believed to be valuable. Frustrated, he walked to the end of the room, where a table sat against the wall. A jet-black cell phone lays on top the table, with the Roman numeral five engraved on its back. He picked up the device and turned it on. In doing so, the screen came on asking for a password, so he set it back down. Crouching down, he sifted through the items below when his cell phone abruptly vibrated. Arnold glanced at his phone and saw a message. A box popped up with a question, "Eathan suffocated?" Along with two answer boxes "Yes," in the right box and "No," in the left box.

Straightaway, he stood up and deleted the email, nice try with a joke email, Alex. The email erased itself. Without warning, the cellar door slammed shut. He jumped from the sound, dropping his phone. As Arnold picked it up, shaken, he viewed the closed cellar door, I can't believe my damned luck. The phone's light began to flicker. He hit the phone to fix it, but it ended up shutting off. Trying to activate the light again, he stopped at hearing gross, asthmatic breaths.

Arnold desperately darted his eyes around, finding no one. Swiftly, he looked up and saw a dark mass hanging over him. Dark liquid melted off the forms grimy, clothed exterior as thick blue veins swelled through his waxy skin. It hung with ease, while his eyes as empty as the void it arose from, stared at Arnold through its hair. Its hair dangled in copper, thick ear-length waves. The strands resembled the red of dusk. Its clasping hands reached for Arnold as distressed screams resounded within the cellar.

Moments before the storm passed, Alexander lay in his bed at home. Rolling onto his side, he struggled to slip into the peaceful realm of sleep. Downstairs in the kitchen, his mother stood with a cup in hand. She sat the mug down, crestfallen. Suddenly, her phone vibrated. Sighing at Alexander’s father calling, she answered, “Funny for you to call. Considering you abandoned us after we heard Alexander may have a severe communication disorder!”

“Look, I know what I did was dumb. Now that I’m set up in London though, I can help him. There’s a new therapy over here that could treat it.”

“You can try, but I don’t think he’ll reciprocate that fast to the idea.” A message interrupted their call, asking, “Eathan suffocated?” Confused by the strange question, she taped “No,” which erased it. The call ended. Her attention became ensnared by the leak from earlier. Upon sighting it, she chose to get it looked at that following morning.

The next morning, Alexander came downstairs. He thought about last night and wanted to apologize to his mother. Hearing the old leak from before, he glanced into the kitchen and felt a malignant horror creep its illimitable, strangling tentacles around him. For his mother now hung from the ceiling fan by a wire. This sight made his stomach upset as a heaviness constrained his chest like a vice grip. It was only hours ago, they argued, but now she was dead with naked, soiled footprints around her.

'''III. Breaking into the Grimoire'''

On May 7th, the morning sky was bright and gray. Having put on a black suit, Alexander went downstairs. Olemilia was waiting downstairs, dressed formally in black as well. Leaving the house, Alexander remained on edge. It was as if he was thrown out into the world for the first time.

She drove them to the church in the Mount Pleasant Cemetery. Many people attended the funeral mass. Going inside the church, Alexander felt an icy wind. He turned to see where it came from and saw a person standing at the back. The person wore conventional, yet sodden and bedraggled clothing in that aura of dread. His face was wan and indisposed. Olemilia then grabbed Alexander’s attention, telling him the mass had started. Thirty minutes later when everyone left the church, Alexander looked for the person and did not see him.

In the graveyard, Alexander stood near his mother’s grave, he closed his eyes like the other mourners and tried to remain stoic as they buried her. When the funeral ended, he and Olemilia walked back to the churchyard. She noticed Alexander’s aloof demeanor and asked, “Do you need anything?”

“I-I-It was him… the shadow? It was in there with us,” Alexander muttered.

Olemilia stopped and looked worriedly at him, “A shadow?”

Alexander looked at her strangely, “T-The b-b-back of the church.”

She stood quietly, consoling him, “Alex, a lot has happened you…” she said.

Those words struck Alexander. He imagined she was accusing him of hallucinating. Feeling a raindrop gave him the excuse to get away, “It’s too humid out here,” he snapped, storming away.

Alexander walked behind the church, hidden from the others. Haunted by everything that transpired, he began to think about his life and wondered if it was worth anything. He felt troubled about abandoning his commitments. In an instant, all feelings of rage, helplessness, and the fantasies of turning the clock back, the second-guessing and the resentment at himself boiled over. The unreality of it all and numbness alternated with agonizing sadness. His eyes became misty, for he could not suppress the emotions he tried to bury down.

As Alexander sunk to the ground and wept, Olemilia came around the corner and found him. Alexander cried out as she came close to him, “They d-d-do all they can to g-get at me! Eathan, P-Padma, Ken, my f-father and now my m-m-mom, what did I do to make them h-h-hate me?”

Olemilia knelt by him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Alex,” she objected. “I know it hurts, but no one hates you. If anything, I’ll always be here for you.” Believing he needed to be at home now, she helped him back to her car.

On the ride home, Alexander sat back in his seat, gazing at the window. Everything felt surreal, nearly every noise was drowned out. He then noticed something odd about the window. Peering closer, Alexander saw a nightmarish face. It was an amalgamation of living and non-living at the same time, with hate-filled eyes staring back at him. The face resembled the ill person from the church. Alexander sat up, moving away from the window. He looked at Olemilia trembling weakly.

Glancing over, “What happened?” she attentively questioned.

“T-There’s a face in your window,” he stated, alarmingly.

“I don’t see anything,” she admitted.

When Alexander looked back, the face had vanished. He became sullen, imagining Olemilia would relate it to his grief again. Now wishing his flesh could melt away into a vapor, he remembered what lead to him promising not end his life.

''In fifth grade, Alexander became aware that his speech was not as good as others his age. He was hard on himself and tried to lessen the social pressure he felt at school. It was around this time the mockery became worse, which lead to his GPA decline and eventually the locker incident. On October 11th, the year 2001, the separation of his parents devastated him. He believed his disorder was the reason for his parents’ disputes and started to hate himself.''

''In his room, all he felt was an overload of mental and emotional stress. He was exhausted; moreover, thinking of his failures and that he was a failure. As Alexander stepped off the chair, his mother found him with an extension cord around his neck. Immediately, she went to him and removed the noose. She held him so he would not fall. At this time, he saw his mother become tearful and swore never to attempt suicide again...''

At home, Alexander ran up to his room. The eldritch face haunted his thoughts, which made him think of those footprints and that shadow, suspecting it caused his mother’s suicide and maybe Padma’s too. He paced the floor, feeling his body get hot. The heat became unbearable, so he entered the bathroom. Trying to cool off, he found strands of red hair in the sink and stepped back.

When Alexander looked up, he was mortified to see the horrific shadow in the uncovered cabinet. Its features were apparent now; for he could distinguish its resemblance to the enigmatic person in the church and car window. Upon connecting that the two entities and the shadow are the same beings, he felt a pain in his head as if it were brought on by the eldritch being’s presence. He gripped his head, barely seeing the monstrosity. “What do you want from me!?” he shouted, closing his eyes from the pain and weeping. “Why can’t you just leave me alone or end this?” Alexander sunk to the floor. Migraines and the mental tempest overwhelmed his psyche, causing him to collapse on the bathroom floor. Before slipping away, he felt an inexplicable, substantial weight upon his body.

''Beyond the wall of reality was Alki beach. Colored by its blue and gray hues, misty particles emanated from the terrain and rose into the twilight distortion above. Alexander stood mystified by the antithesis. The lighthouse was in decay while the natural features around it looked like twisted atrocities. Within the transmundane, a person resembling Eathan, wrapped in duct tape, was dragged to the shore by a shaded figure. Alexander tried to call to them, but his voice was obscured by the primeval voices chanting.''

Oh Lazurus,

Ze hebben ons verteld dat hier,

Uw zonen en dochters stijgen van Bylands huis.

''Unexpectedly, his thigh vibrated, so he reached into his pocket. A message came up on his phone asking, "Eathan suffocated?" with two answer boxes below. Alexander could barely hold his phone as the message confused him. Hesitantly, he tapped the “Yes,” box, which erased the question, flashing the insignia over his screen. Darkness started to inundate the realm. Alexander ran from it seeing the victims claimed on the darkened sand. Among them, he saw Ken, who wore the appearance of being held underwater for days...''

Hours later, Alexander awoke from his vision. Drained he sat up, wiping the saliva from his mouth. A faint force was pulling at him to return to that nightmare world, but he suppressed the strange feeling. Irrespective of that, all of this felt like he was on a sinking ship where no one knew his feeling or believed him. Thus, he detached himself off from the world. Alexander would spend time in his bedroom, lying in his boxers focusing on each object, first individually, then in consort with other objects near it. The task was painstaking, but he did this daily to assure himself the malevolent entity never entered.

On May 28th, Olemilia drove to Alexander’s house. She was troubled by his absences from the high school and wondered if his mention of a shadow weeks ago had anything to do with it. Coming up to his house, she could hear rock music, coming from the within. She knocked, hoping he heard it through the music. Alexander eventually answered the door with callous regard. Instantly, she was astonished by his pale countenance. “Um, can I come in,” she asked with uncertainty.

“No one’s stopping you,” Alexander remarked.

“Alex I’m... worried,” Olemilia stated, approaching him. “You barely show up at school anymore.”

Leaning on his hip, he said, “Ha, is t-that your reason for coming over now.”

“I’m serious Alex. Can you please tell me what’s going on with you," she pleaded. "I care about you, but I can't help if you keep icing me out.

Scoffing, he asked, “What g-good would it d-do, nothing will change or come back?” He looked away briefly, "If you’re s-so upset then consider what happened to Arnold.”

“Wait, you knew of his disappearance and didn’t tell Xavier? When I reported it, he said I was the first to inform him. Not even his father told them he vanished,” Olemilia protested.

Rolling his eyes, he said, “I’m too grief-stricken to be b-b-believable remember.”

“I never said that,” she argued.

“You didn’t have t-to, it was on your f-face,” he stated. “You t-think you're better than me, you think I’m crazy... and what if I am! T-That’s the only way I can cope n-n-now.”

Olemilia could not believe his heartless demeanor and soon stormed from his house. Alexander closed the door still infuriated she did not believe him. Tired of being judged by others most of his life, he resolved to keep his personal issues from her. He went upstairs, ignoring the kitchen, so to not have vivid flashes of his mother’s hanging body. In his room, he slammed the door and sat on the bed. His eyes cast upon the shelf over his desk, looking at the book Igia gave him along with the black key on the desk. Alexander suspected his last vision correlated to that book, due to the matching insignias and went over.

On a hunch, Alexander seized his key and used it on the books lock. As the tumblers moved, he opened the book to the first page. On this page, he read the word Woordenboek, believing it has Germanic influence. The next page, he found an undecipherable language. The text continued to the 30th page. Where a paragraph in modern Dutch was over an obscure figure with a downward pointing pentagram around it, the image disturbed Alexander. However, he did not want to turn from it and began deciphering the text.

June 25, 2013 - a day after his birthday

''To complete the contract for the spell, I need the name of another I love signed in the book; for a promised transcendence into the world below when our time comes. I obtained the corporeal love, but for the whole love, I need the name of someone I adore intangibly. Yesterday on Eathan’s birthday, I finished my plan.''

''They need not fear us unless they harbor a dark heart, a vile heart that targets the innocent. Those who hear may heed my words, I vow that they will not hide forever from this curse. For they will be hunted down, like the beasts they are, and pulled into the very bowels of Hell!''

Begin van het einde, gehoorzaam mijn ritueel command...

It ends with the text streaked off the page. Alexander then felt a cold breeze. Glancing back to the shadows of his room, he concluded everything was still the same. Undeterred, he continued reading and found what seemed to illustrate a ritual. Though most of it was unknown to him, the bits he did comprehend spoke of compounding yarrow and belladonna and drawing a glyph out of them when the moon was new. Something that spoke of melting tallow candles and mixing them with corpse fat; whispered of beings that most people do not care for or believe exists. Alexander suspected he needed to decipher the rest of the text. Irritated, he called the high school, requesting to see Jack Langley tomorrow afternoon to see if he could help. That night, frequent flashes tore through the clouds. Sleeping in his bed, Alexander lays dreaming…

''He was on the ground, lying on his side wrapped in duct tape. A dark, menacing human figure with his gloved hand dragged him by his hair. Alexander could not move, his neck was in acute pain and his breaths felt shortened as if he was breathing through a straw. All he could do was wheeze as he got dragged to the shoreline. The figure tossed Alexander into the water where he laid as the tides came in and out filling his lungs. Soon, a shaded woman extended her hands out to him from the darkness, with a mark on the wrist.''

The violent shudder of the bedroom window ceased the nightmarish spell. Alexander moaned in cold perspiration. The image of that terrible, shaded woman’s mark ruminated vividly in his mind, for it bore a resemblance to the insignia on Igia. His psyche racked at the maddening possibility of that woman being Igia. Languidly opening his eyes, he felt a strange pressure upon himself. It was like a great weight was on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. Paralyzed, he saw through his blurry sight something over him, looking down into his face. From what he could see, its face resembled the eldritch being he saw in the church and car window.

With his vision cleared, Alexander through force of will managed to sit up, but the entity had already vanished. He was able to breathe now. Shaken, he placed his left hand to the side of the bedspread and felt a damp spot. Looking at it, he found a partial footprint. Tentatively, he looked to his right and located another footprint. Glancing down at his bare chest, he saw a red mark as if the entity sat on top of him. Concerned it may return, he remained alert. Feeling an unwilling pull back to that unknown dream, he gained little sleep trying to suppress the invisible tug.

The following day at the high school, Alexander sojourned when class ended. He had previously looped a chain through the black key’s hole and now wore it as a necklace under his shirt for safe keeping. More attentive to the things in his room now, he was positive the entity might try and take the key if he left it at home. During that school day, he overheard the other students talk about Arnold’s vanishing. He saw their suspicious stares and believed they blamed him for the disappearance of one of the school’s best soccer players, due to the bad history they had.

Despite this, he felt a sense of freedom being out of the house, even if it is an ephemeral relief. As he stood up, feeling the effects of those sleepless nights and gathered his things, Jack approached him, “With your 4.0 GPA, I was worried you were going to drop classes.”

Alexander took the Woordenboek out of his backpack. “... Igia w-wanted me to give you this,” he said. He gave Jack the book, "I w-wanted to know what that passage on page 30 meant."

Opening the book to that page, Jack reads the passage. His lips tightened at the page’s text. “This passage was written by Igia,” Jack stated.

“W-Why’d she write something like that?”

Pausing, he then began to explain Igia’s protective nature when it came to her sons, especially Eathan, due his weak physical condition. If anything was said against her sons, she would have confronted and threatened the offender. Igia’s anger was terrible, so most people avoided her and her kids. Jack then put the book in his briefcase, “Guessing from that question, though, I assume you aren’t aware of the Viser family’s tie to the Salem witch trials then?” he inquired. “This book is full of malice Alex, discerning madness from another sphere.”

"S-Something sent me a message ab-b-bout Eathan and that insignia on the book appeared after it," Alexander admitted. “That thing in the book…,” slapping his chest, “I know that’s what’s targeting me! Everywhere I go I know it’s with me… L-Last night, I saw a phantasmal woman in my sleep and then I woke to that thing on top of my chest.”

Jack bit his lower lip. “Listen, Alex, what you saw on page 30 was the description of a curse created by Igia’s ancestors Lucius and Aleida Viser, during the Salem witch hysteria. They used it to punish the ones that condemned them.” Then Jack saw something, which gave him fear. "We need to go,” he ordered, quickly showing Alexander out and then locking the classroom. "Come to my house tomorrow, I’ll explain things there." Just when Jack left, a loud crash resounded in the classroom. Alexander cautiously glanced inside. The desks were cluttered at the end of the room as if tossed by something powerful. Witnessing the force it had, Alexander’s heart pounded like a hummingbird’s wing, imagining the horror it implemented on its victims.

Subsequently, Alexander was then called down to the principal’s office to give his statement on Arnold’s departure. Other students had painted him as a potential suspect because of his disputes with Arnold. Soon he sat in the office and listened to the police talk about Arnold and Ken’s vanishing. After the questions, Alexander replied, “You don’t have to dance around it. I didn’t make Arnold or Ken vanish.” Staring directly at him, “D-Despite what you think, my mother would have heard me trying to get rid of Ken’s b-body,” he added with sarcasm. “As for Arnold, Olemilia and Mrs. Viser were also the last to see him at the lighthouse. For all we know his dad did something to him.” Once they heard Alexander’s statement, he was allowed to leave.

On June 1st, that late afternoon, the rains poured down. In the Uptown area, chilling winds blew as Alexander approached the two-story home. Observing his surroundings, he walked onto the porch and pushed the doorbell. He peered through the window and knocked at the door. On the first knock the door slightly opened. Pushing it in gently, all he saw inside was a dim interior and nearly everything devastated. Alexander carefully entered and could smell the stale air, which reminded him of the lighthouse. Near the staircase, he flipped the light switch, illuminating most of the house. A creaking sound from upstairs caught his attention. Hoping to find someone inside, Alexander ascended them. At the last step, he saw someone go down the dreary hallway that he thought resembled his mother.

In front of the last room, the woman opened the door and went in. Alexander reached the door and looked in, finding the semi-dark room empty, he now believed the phantasm was an illusion. Then the door slightly up the hall opened. At that moment, Alexander turned to see what it was. A damp grasp at his right shoulder caused him to retreat from the room. He looked back and saw nobody in the room, yet knew something had touched him. Near the other open door, Jack pulled Alexander inside and shut the door behind them.

Alexander gave him a startled look, "W-What's going on?"

Jack had the Woordenboek in hand and gave it to Alexander. "Here, you need to read this again. It can help you understand the spells origin," he said with authority. Alexander took hold of the book. Jack then looked around, fidgeting, "Did you hear?"

Alexander became leery, "H-Hear what?"

“It’s stalking...,” Jack answered. “Listen, Alex, someone did kill Eathan, but the deaths after weren’t done by anything human.” He motioned to say, “This isn’t what we hoped for, I’m sorry its presence had to fall upon you.”

“W-W-What does w-we hoped for mean,” Alexander asked, gripping the book tightly.

Glancing behind himself and seeing the bare wall, he turned back and begun to talk about the events Igia faced; before things got out of hand. After her eldest son had convinced her to let him leave for Juilliard, Jack started helping her with the lighthouse. Jack had become aware of how fragile she was when she admitted it felt painful to let her eldest son go. Then Eathan’s death came upon her. Later, when the police released a suspect in Eathan’s murder for lack of evidence, Igia’s depression deepened. However, a gradual indignation began to seep in. She thought the police weren’t doing enough to find her son’s killer and hounded them. That was when the police questioned Jack.

Inquiring into the reason for the interrogation, Alexander learned from Jack that the police had uncovered Jack’s occult fascinations. With that information the police suspected Jack killed Eathan in a ritual. After finding no physical evidence to connect Jack to the murder, they let him go, but the society of Alki had already painted him as the primary suspect since word of his dark interest became publicly known. This lead to Jack losing his position in the historical society, but he barely held onto his teaching job. Moving into Uptown was an escape from the social persecution, but it did not alleviate him completely. After briefly taking up drinking, Jack contacted Igia. That was when she propositioned a way to vindicate him from the citizen’s opinion and give her closure.

Jack runs his hand back through his hair and says, “I never knew how deep seeded her hatred was until she disclosed her plan to me.”

Putting his hand in his jeans pocket, Jack explained what he and Igia did. In the book was an invocation spell. The ritual began with a contract, which Igia claimed was to validate the ritual. Though Jack had his doubts, he signed his name in the book below hers. After that, a triangular glyph was made with three circles arranged in a trilateral pattern. They placed a red, blue and green candle at each corner and a black candle on the central, flattop altar that faced the moon. Once the candles were lit Igia moved to the central candle and offered a strand of copper hair to its flame. Then Jack used an athame. A ceremonial blade used to draw an insignia and pull in the energies as she recited the spell. Soon, the mare, an evil spirit in Germanic folklore manifested in thin air, rising from over the glyph. It was conjured to destroy Eathan’s killer, but it became indiscriminate and now condemns anyone.

“S-So everything d-d-done to me was because of you two,” Alexander scowled, throwing the book down, “I’m completely crazy thanks to you.”

“Calm down, you think I wanted-

“Shut up! I j-j-just want this to b-b-be over,” he flung open the door and went into the hall.

Jack retrieved the book and stopped him. “If I could remove it, I would, but I don’t know how. I need your help to figure this out,” he stated.

Stepped back, “Then t-tell me why it’s after me?”

“You set foot in that lighthouse,” Jack stated. “We did the ritual in there, so the curse is on that land. Once entered you invited the mare to haunt you with nightmares until your driven mad. There is another part of the curse, if the cursed person sees the mare, two of their loved ones with the afflicted as an option, will be condemned to death like Aleida and Lucius.”

Hearing that paralyzed Alexander as if the darkness around him was consuming his very being. “T-Then w-why is it after you?”

Jack went quiet and then looked at him. For him to have gotten the curse Jack said, his brother would have had to enter the lighthouse. Confessing to Alexander he also woken to night sweats and the mare seated upon his chest, Jack began to explain that his dreams consisted of acute neck pain, difficulty in breathing and being murdered by a shadowed being. The dream would end when ghostly hands extend out and clutch his shoulders, bringing him to the twilight distortion. Jack believed it was Igia because of the insignia. Having recognized it on her wrist, he theorized the hands Alexander mentioned were likely hers too. Nonetheless, he imagined Ken might have had something to with Eathan’s death; due to Ken’s conflict with the Viser's, but mostly Igia.

Before Jack could explain further on that complicated conflict, a guttural sound crept its way down the hall. Alexander saw the terrible shadow on the wall behind Jack. Soon the lights flickered wildly. As the black water dripped from the hallway’s ceiling, the rasping grew louder. Jack shouted through the noises, “We have to head downstairs!” Alexander took the lead, hastening for the staircase. Halfway down the stairs, Alexander and Jack saw a grimy hand grab the bottom handrail, so they ran back upstairs. Both ran down the hall trying to reach the bedroom door to escape out the window.

However, they heard something moist hit the floor near there. Damp, sand handprints, and lower leg prints came down the hall, as the same sounds came up the stairs. A deluge of black water fell from the ceiling in-between Alexander and Jack, separating them. The trail nearing, something began to manifest, crawling sluggishly on hands and knees to Jack. Alexander stood frozen, witnessing its true corporeal form. Watching powerless, he saw it advance upon Jack with sullen eyes, making abysmal ululations...

Later that night, police were called by a neighbor who heard strange sounds from Jack’s house. Neighbors looked on from behind the barricade. Having forced open the door, the officers combed the house. At the bottom of the stairs, they found Jack unconscious, yet breathing on the floor with his left arm bleeding from the shoulder. Xavier and another officer found Alexander ensconced against the wall in the back room, quivering and staring vacant-eyed as he held himself with a bloody knife in hand. There was discoloration on his face and handprints around his neck. Kneeling, Xavier tried to talk with him and got no response. Commanding the officer to get another EMS vehicle there, Xavier then looked back at Alexander concerned.

'''IV. Host of the Nightmare'''

Lying in the cold, sterile atmosphere around him, Alexander slept in a stupor. His breaths produced icy clouds within that white room. At this time, he felt that oppressive weight come upon his body. Awaking in a panic, he saw the shaded hands extend out to him with more distinction than before and grip his shoulders. Alexander was pulled away into the abyss.

''The voices sang and wailed clearer than ever. However, this void did not last, for Alexander could see the distorted twilight consuming the darkness as odd, corroded flooring formed underfoot, creating a platform. Upon this terrace without walls, suspended over the bottomless rift; disintegrated decorations and a centered flattop pedestal propped up, while a sheet of water cloaked their feet and poured into the evening gulf below. Finding the armoire, he suspected some this was familiar and might be the chthonian chamber of the lighthouse.''

''The phantom woman still clutched him. It was when she moved Alexander to the altar, he saw her raven black hair, with a bit strewn over her shoulder, concluding to him the spectral woman was Igia. Upon the altar, the Woordenboek manifested before him, while Igia held an athame in hand. She raised it to his left hand, “No one can catch us. No one can stop us now,” and cut the tip of his index finger to draw blood. As blood fell from the wound, Alexander stumbled. Then the sensation of being nudged continuously broke the nightmarish spell.''

The next thing he knew was turning his head over and opening his eyes to a somewhat cramped room. Dominated by a bed in which Alexander laid upon, the room came off as restful yet seemed like the choice for a funeral parlor. Suddenly, he gasped with widened eyes. He sat up languidly, pushing the sheet off of himself unintentionally. Confused by the surroundings, he heard a familiar voice at his side.

“It’s okay, you’re in the hospital,” Olemilia stated. “The police said what happened.”

Alexander looked away, “I’m n-not really sure what happened.”

“Jack tried to strangle you, but you stabbed him in self-defense. He was unconscious, but they had moved him to a different hospital after he woke up.” She put her hand on his, “I’m sorry, you had to go through that.”

“D-Did that happen...” he dubiously muttered. Recalling little of last night, fragments of the event began to surface to his conscious mind.

''In Jack’s house, Alexander saw Eathan crawl into Jack. Then Jack walked to Alexander awkwardly. Struck down the stairs, Alexander tried to escape through the front door, but it was stuck. He went to the kitchen and got a knife. Soon Alexander was held against the wall by his neck, noticing Jack’s dissimilar eye colors now. In desperation, he stabbed Jack’s arm to free himself. Laying on the ground, he saw Jack collapse as Eathan retreated out of him and faded into darkness when flashing lights arrived.''

Soon the sound of footsteps caught their attention. It was Xavier coming in to get Alexander’s statement. Olemilia understanding what he was there for, complied and departed. Sitting across from him, Xavier began to ask questions. The answers given were truthful until it came to questions about Jack, Alexander paused and became anxious to tell what he had seen. Searching the bed as if it could provide an answer, “Jack wasn’t himself. He was p-possessed.”

Raising an eyebrow, Xavier said, “Possessed.”

“I saw something crawl into his b-body.” He sat waiting anxiously for a response though he hid it.

Sitting back for a moment, Xavier reached into his inner jacket pocket and took out the Woordenboek, placing it on the table by the bed. After stating that Jack had no memories of the assault, he questioned Alexander if Jack attacked him to fulfill a ritual, which Alexander quickly denied. Xavier then asked if he wanted to press charges, but got a silent refusal. Ending the questions, he was going to take the book, assuming it was Jack’s. However, Alexander claimed it was his, so Xavier left it to him.

Soon a young officer arrived, Xavier went into the hall with him. The young officer explained that a co-worker of Arnold’s father called their dispatcher, saying Arnold’s father has not been to work for days. When they went to the house, they discovered his body on the floor near his bloodstained bed. The ME said there were gashes and signs of desiccation. Xavier searched the floor tersely, growing suspicious of the deaths. Looking back at Alexander as he sat quietly staring at his left index finger, which seemed to have been cut; Xavier left to visit the medical examiner.

Days went by before Alexander got discharged from the hospital. The time he spent there tormented him; for he could not fathom that bizarre dream of the altar or the wound he received that became authentic in reality. Nonetheless, on this early morning of June 9th, Alexander had bathed and changed clothes. He tried to recall his dream in the hospital, but nothing would crystallize in his mind. The scene must have correlated to the ritual, though, which begun to assault his imagination. Alexander felt relief that in three weeks, he would be going straight to London and would never have to see Alki again.

However, there was anger too, anger at the fact he did not finish learning everything he could from Jack. The mare had stopped him. Alexander then remembered what Jack said, about going over the book again. Going over to his bookcase, he bent over to the bottom row of books and removed the Woordenboek from the shelf. He stood back up, fixing his slim jeans and sat on his bed. The book had a marked page that Jack had done. The notes he wrote explained the curse’s origin and possibly why the nightmares occur.

Alexander learned from reading the text that to cope with his nightmares, which caused him many sleepless nights, Jack devoted to translating the book. Theorizing that the nightmares induced by the mare may, in fact, be Eathan’s foregone memories. Jack admitted it was Eathan’s hair burned over the black candle’s flame, making him the mare. Jack also studied and learned from the contract that the invoker must sign their name along with a person they love in the Woordenboek, to validate the ritual. There were also references to the Bylands in the book. Though he did not know its origin or purpose, Jack suspected it was a paragon concept to the Viser family. Jack then translated entries from 1692 that started in February.

Reading the text, Alexander gathered Lucius and Aleida had entered the forest often at night. Their ventures spoke of descending and being washed ashore on darkened sands, with its abysmal edifices and chasms. On one return from their forest excursion, they heard of the issued arrest of three women by the magistrate for the crime of witchcraft. Restricting their forest trips, they took to casting a spell on the accusers after a little girl got blamed for witchcraft. Unfortunately, Aleida was arrested and hanged, stopping the notes until April when Lucius continued writing.

April 7th, 1692

''With our name signed in the book, the retribution is guaranteed. The curse will carry the anguish, sorrow and resentment of the one burned over the black candle's flame, who unjustly died. That is why I burned a strand of me and Aleida’s hair over it. I know I will be arrested and hanged, but it only hastens their torment. We will torment the victims with our very own nightmares until driven mad. Likewise, if any wretched eyes fall upon our form, then they too will know the pain of having a loved one condemned. For two of their kin shall perish or they will perish with kin, just as me and my beloved are fated to become.''

The hate written in that text made Alexander feel like cold spiders went up his back. Turning the page, he found an inexplicable blank section. Alexander then closed the book, remembering he had to attend school and packed the book his backpack.

Mechanically attending school, Alexander was unable to focus entirely on his studies. A mood of expectancy had seized him; he seemed to be mentally awaiting the fall of some devastating impact. When noon arrived, he skipped school during lunch period, feeling a sense of detachment. Going out to eat, he would occasionally hear the chants from his nightmares. Only an effort to ignore it stalled the voices while at the lunch spot in The Swinery on California Avenue.

The information about what he read still ruminated in his mind, the possible torment he would face was maddening. After eating half the sandwich, he felt little desire to eat the rest for the fever was returning. This action only proved to him the reality of his anxiety and despair as he dragged himself back to the school. By the time Alexander reached the high school, he was in a cold perspiration. Gripping the iron railing, he gazed down the dreary hall.

Then he gave a start; for there was a clearly seen figure in the darkened corner of that thronged hallway and a second glance told him it was the mare; whose insidious aspects invaded his existence. Though it was distant, he felt its demonic and intangible malice could flow from its incensed stare. The illness worsened as his sight became distorted. In an instant, Alexander’s view went back into Ken’s home.

''The house seemed to be in good condition through his hazy sight. Exploring the home, guided by an unusual pull, Alexander ascended the stairs. Surprised to see the shadow of another person upstairs, he approached to the silhouette in the bedroom. He saw Ken writing in a notebook. Distressed, Alexander knew this was not reality and did not bother to communicate with him. The haze grew slightly thicker as he approached Ken. Inquiring at what he was scribing, Alexander began to read and noticed the entries started in 2009 and ended in 2013. He read the notes carefully as they told a story.''

''Ken and Jack became estranged due to Jack’s secret affair with Igia. Disliking Igia, Ken believed she was indulging Jack’s fascination with the occult to further her insidious ends; so he tried to break them up after discovering their affair in his house. Then the entries had a surprising gap. However, when Ken began writing, the texts were full of anger. “He’s still with her,” Ken wrote. “I won’t see his life ruined by her!” Unfortunately, Padma filed a restraining order against Jack because of his constant meetings with Igia; where he would sometimes break into Ken’s empty house with his key, so his affair could be secret. While in turn, Jack filed a restraining order against Ken for harassment against Igia.''

''In the last entry, Ken wrote in a frenzied state. Planning to use gasoline as the accelerant, Ken began to act. However, Eathan had come home, this surprised Ken. When Eathan inquired why he was there, Ken panicked; for the look on Eathan’s face revealed he figured it out. Ken had confronted him, in response Eathan had threatened to tell if he did not leave. Out of desperation, Ken clutched Eathan’s throat, strangling him.''

''After breaking Eathan’s trachea, he used his knowledge of the prior deaths in Alki and bound Eathan in duct tape to make it seem like the other murders. Lastly, he disposed of Eathan’s body on the beach. He regretted killing him, wishing it was Igia instead. Days later, Ken went to the lighthouse, to see if Igia or Jack suspected him. After concluding this was not apparent, he left. Alexander stopped reading when his vision began fading amongst the haze as something was pulling him back to his reality...''

In the nurse’s office, Alexander was seated on the examining table. His face showed the countenance of dissociation. The nurse tested him and grew concerned from his deadpan stare and the muttering that seemed foreign. At that moment, Alexander blinked and a look of perplexity fell upon his face as he observed his surroundings. The nurse asked if he were alright, his answer seemed vague when he assured his condition was good. After his experience, Alexander sat in a daze for his remaining classes. Even when other students tried talking to him, he seemed distracted.

Alexander ran his hand through his hair from the absorption of all the information. One thing was clear the mare was indeed Eathan; he also knew Ken hated Igia and tried to kill her, but because Eathan discovered this he got killed. Eathan Viser is the mare- the embodiment of the curse because he died unjustly. Now he haunts Alki Point lighthouse, condemning anyone who enters. Alexander knew the truth now and believed Igia had no reason to keep the curse going since Eathan killed Ken. He planned to see her as soon as possible. When classes ended, he began to feel the mental exhaustion of all that he knew and wondered how much closer to madness he was as he went down the hall.

Between the mare and the nightmares forged in his mind, he barely noticed Olemilia and could hardly recall anything she was saying to him. She apologized for not believing his earlier claims of the mare. This act of regret was due to her concern for Alexander’s mental and physical health. His lean frame moving down the steps Alexander shrugged and said to her, “Doesn’t matter if you want to come b-by my house or not.”

A look of uncertainty on her face, she replied, “Alright, but I’ll be over in the evening as soon as I’m off work.”

Before departing from one another, Alexander feared something may happen and told her, “If I d-don’t answer the door, go to the lighthouse.” After which, he made his way to the bus stop. When he departed from the bus minutes later, he threaded through the damp streets, searching for Igia. Unable to find her at Ravenwood manor or the lighthouse, he wondered if she fell victim to Eathan too. His mind became haunted with the idea of endless torment if that were true.

There was no sleep for him when he got home because like Jack he fears it. Around 11:20 p.m. Alexander had disturbed eyes. In the living room, he sat drowsing on his sofa as the night lingered. Waiting for Olemilia's knock at the door, he heard the lull of the rainy rhythm outside. The sound of distant chanting made him nod unwillingly to its dreaded chorus. To his terror, he found himself swaying to its demonic rhythm. Alexander heard Olemilia knock at the front door, which made him try to get up and open it, but something smothered him back down. Now his will was no longer his own.

The mare’s oppression came upon him as he felt helpless. Having knowledge of what would come next the grasping hands came upon him. Pulled into the voided nebulous, he could see Igia, but could not defy her forcing him through the abyss. Then it all vanished in a flash as he stood, once again, in that screaming twilight alteration atop the strange terrace. On the altar was the Woordenboek with a magpie feathered quill and athame, Igia took up the blade from it. The book was open to the page Alexander once saw blank, but now it was full of names.

Igia guided Alexander to the book and began reciting some ritual. The language was a bit beyond what he understood, but it seemed Dutch. His left middle finger was cut this time as Igia held it over the blank page. When she placed the quill in his left hand, Alexander looked down at the book and saw Jack Langley as the last entry written in blood. Overwhelmed by the trance, he signed under Jack’s name, Alexander Rhys. After the signature, the book’s pages flipped wildly and then it closed, completing the contract.

“At last I obtained you, but alas, it took time. My darling’s nightmare swirls and churns everlasting,” she said, dematerializing the quill. “Jack gave the corporeal half, however, the spell required platonic love also. You’ve always been like a son to me, resembling Eathan in many aspects.” Utter shock took his mind, suspecting she planned this all along.

Igia retrieved the Woordenboek. Holding the book, she extended it out to Alexander. Unable to control his behavior, he reached out and took the book in both hands. Igia motioned him to hold the book before him in a certain way while the pages moved independently. Feeling a persistent, poignant loathing pulse through his being; the book trembled in his hands. Seconds later, the utterance of descending into the world below with him and Jack broke the spell and Alexander dropped the book with a vibrant splash while he desperately tried to stop the otherworldly spell.

In seconds he edged up the flooded floor and wrenched the blade from her hands; sending it plopping to the watery floor. He demanded she stop the curse, yet her hands soon wrapped around his neck, with rage, twisted on her face. Igia commanded they must not abandon the dream and that he must stay with her. Trying to pull her hands off, Alexander felt the chain he wore around his neck pinch his skin. In this peril, her strength was abnormal, probably due to being in this world, Alexander feared what may happen if she succeeded. Falling to his knees, he saw his vision get blurry. Out of desperation, he viciously dug his fingernails into her skin.

The retaliation loosened her grip enough for Alexander to break free. He would have used the athame to keep Igia from attacking again had she not revitalized her strength and advanced on him. As she reached for his neck again, he reacted in kind. This time, he caught her wrist before she could get to him. The two struggled in each other’s grip. Before they realized where they were going, both were edged near the boundary of the terrace. During her last skirmish, he felt something pull him forward and saw Igia over nearly the border. With one savage push, he sent the ghostly witch over the edge and heard her scream on some level far below.

In his nightmare hallucination, Alexander heard the rhythmic chant come from an endless distance. Confused, he retrieved the athame to protect himself. Alexander assumed he was in the lighthouse and below this level was his exit, but whether he could ever escape through the twilight egress was unknown; for he suspected it would just to more of the nightmare. The passage through did, in fact, bring him to what he predicted. Lost for an unknown amount of time in the twilight antithesis, he could only follow the chanting chorus in hopes for an exit. Reaching another egress that bore the familiar lock Igia once sealed with the black key, Alexander used his key to unlock the door and entered.

Escaping the nightmare, he awoke in the hallway outside of the chthonian chamber with athame in hand. Alexander observed his surroundings, seeing it interchange with the dream realm rapidly. Regaining his equilibrium, he could see flashing glimpses of the world’s interchanging and wondered if this was his reality or the madness of the curse. He desperately made his way down the hall. Upon seeing the stairs to his escape, his psyche flew into a flurry of dread and disbelief; because at the summit of the stairs stood Igia. Alexander swore he had dealt with her and nearly lost the feeling in his legs.

The moment she closed in on him, a murderous desire twisted upon Alexander’s face. He set upon her bringing the blade down as the realm’s shifted like rapid flashes of lightning. Red hair brushed across his face when he felt her body go limp. The second piercing commenced as black hair hit his face and she sunk to the floor. He dragged himself to the stairs, hoping she was dead. Looking back while his world interchanged repetitively, Alexander could see Igia’s body lying motionless, however, at the same time he saw Olemilia’s body.

It felt as if his mind were splitting at the seams within the rapidly shifting spheres. No longer could he determine his world or his dream, causing him to stagger frantically. His body nearly collapsed at the door as he managed to open it and head outside. With cold perspiration, his legs gave out as the icy, nightmarish sand pressed against his torso. Barely conscious, the last thing he saw was an EMS worker approach his languid body.

Time trudged by as Alexander once again stayed in the hospital. The night after his ordeal he slept badly. He woke up again and again, screaming from his terrible dreams. Feeling languid, he endured five days of mental torment. The illness he had produced horrifying dreams. In these nebulous visions, the mare pushed his terrible face near Alexander’s. Eathan sat on top of him watching as Alexander felt the oppression and heard the terrible intoning.

During his better days, Xavier came in and questioned him on the body at the lighthouse. Alexander learned that the body at the lighthouse was, in fact, Olemilia’s. Adamantly, he denied her death and presence there. Xavier however, countered and said Olemilia was there, eyewitness accounts stated they saw her drive to the lighthouse around that time. The reason she went there was to find Alexander. She claimed to hear his voice inside, talking in a foreign tongue and called the police. Stating he was in the lighthouse, she worried Alexander might try to hurt himself. Alexander felt the grips of maddening frustration and attacked Xavier’s statement with ferocity.

As time went by, news of the unsolved disappearances and deaths were considered old news, getting lost in the stories produced nowadays after Alexander got taken to court. Alexander stood in court and was found mentally ill. Thus, he was ordered into hospitalization at the Fairfax Hospital for 90 days. Though he had therapy sessions in the hospital, Alexander defiantly believed through those days that Olemilia was not killed in the lighthouse; though a bit of him feared it may have some truth. Next, Alexander heard that his father sold their house in Alki so that they could go straight to London when he leaves the hospital, leaving no ties left in Seattle. He also learned that the lighthouse had gone through remodeling after Igia’s eldest son gave it over to the government. Even though the lighthouse was part of the terror that swept over Western Seattle, it remains a popular tourist attraction.

Around early September at the Fairfax Hospital, the environment was like a university, coming off as a caring place. Alexander sat calmly during his therapy session though he seemed passive. With the session over, the psychologist departed and met Alexander’s father outside. Addressing the concern, he explained that though Alexander is bright, there are present disorders. Alexander had mixed anxiety-depressive disorder as well as borderline personality disorder traits. “I’ve seen it before with another patient, but I’d like further evaluations on him before I conclude anything,” he said.

Showing concern, Alexander’s father gave him one last look before he would visit him again. Alexander got back to his dorm-like room minutes later. Seeing his male roommate seated at the table, messing with the flowers appearing uninterested, Alexander sat on the bed. A growing concern soon made him stand up and look out the window leaned on his hip. The day was cloudy as rain fell on the complacent streets. He saw his father get into his parked silver car. Looking around at the streets below and the everyday people about their lives, he then saw someone. Alexander had not seen him for months, but there he was- the mare, standing under the entrance canopy of a building.

There was no mistake, for he was staring at the pale face and aggrieved, focusing eyes of Eathan Viser. Seeing the terrible hate in his stare, made Alexander’s body icy cold. At that moment, his father drove off. He rode by the building where the mare was standing. Leaning forward with his hands on the windowsill and eyes widened, Alexander's breaths shortened, he knew there was no way he could warn his father. The mare moved in front of the silver car. His father panicked at seeing the lean, teenage male cross carelessly in front of him, causing him to turn away so to not hit him.

Unable to get back control of his car, there was a horrible crash. Silence swept over the scene while the mare was nowhere in sight. Alexander’s father sat hunched over in his car seat as the car got jammed into a building's wall, there were fractures to his skull. Alexander stepped back from his window. The damage of the crash made him suspect his father would not make it. He knew the curse now claimed its second victim within his family and knew it got relinquished from him at last. Although conversely, the long-awaited release he had hoped for, felt empty. Staring heartlessly at his roommate, Alexander nodded unintentionally to the distant chants of the eldritch sphere that whispered in the dark corners of his mind.  