Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28428152-20181109081206

Chapter XV

I grabbed my fifth cigarette in a row and hastily lit it, desperate for the nicotine to course through my pulsing veins. Even if it made me sick.

I stood up from the chair and paced back and forth in the back porch of my apartment. I cast my eyes to the pool below and watched as the rain splashed in the water. But I couldn’t keep still long enough. I had to move. My thoughts went back to the call I’d just had with my father. I cursed myself and went inside, bringing my cigarette with me against my better judgement.

I had just come back home from the shooting range not long before when my phone rang. When I looked at it, I saw that it was my father. Expecting good news, I eagerly answered.

“Hey, Dad,” I greeted in Laotian with a smile plastered on my face.

“Hi, Dan. How you doing?” he returned, also in Laotian. We had always used the language at home, as it had been my parents’ native tongue.

“Uh, alright, I guess. Work’s got me on my toes. Was just at a shooting range for the first time earlier. Thinking about buying a gun.”

“A gun? What on Earth for?” He never was too keen on guns.

“Well, there’s been a lot of break-ins in the area. Figured I should stay safe.” This was a total lie, but I felt confident in my response.

“Well, fair enough, I guess. Just stay safe, okay? Don’t let your gun get to your head. Do you remember what I told you about guns?”

“Yes, Dad. Words first. Then guns, if they have one too. So, what’s up?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Dan, you remember how the cancer was getting better?”

I nodded my head. There was a grave tone in his voice, but I knew him better than that. I was fully expecting him to try and make me think he was going to drop bad news before revealing that it was in fact spectacular news. That was his style, after all.

“Well, I went to the doctor today. It’s progressing again.”

My jaw locked, and my eyes froze. I waited to see if he would laugh and tell me it was a lie. No, I hoped. Hoped beyond belief.

“You still there, Dan?”

“Yeah.”

“Did… did you hear what I said?”

“Uh-huh,” I answered. I chuckled nervously.

“They said it’s progressing fast, Dan. Really fast. They said… they said it was faster than they’ve ever seen before.”

I choked down a lump in my throat and went outside.

“But… but I thought the chemo was working?”

“It was, son. It was.”

I lit a cigarette and took in a deep inhalation.

“Dan, are you smoking?” he exclaimed.

“You know I smoke.”

“I know. But you know it was cigarettes that gave me lung cancer, right?”

I blew out another puff.

“I know.”

Dad sighed and said, “Normally I’d try to get you quit right now, but you’re an adult. You can make your own choices. And I don’t want to fight before… before I….”

My legs went numb.

“Before what, Dad?”

“Dan, it’s progressed to Stage Four. And… and it’s not looking so good. It’s not far into Stage Four, but with how quickly it’s been getting worse, they said maybe three months.”

“Th-three months?”

“At most. That’s what they said.” I could hear his own voice beginning to choke up.

I couldn’t think of any words to respond with. Instead, I stared numbly at the cigarette wedged between my fingertips, the numbness spreading up from my legs.

“I’ve already told your brother. Sometime soon you’ll both need to come over, so we can talk about the will.”

“Dad, you can’t go. Not after mom.”

He sighed.

“I’m sorry son. I know, losing her to the same thing was rough. But it’s going to be okay. These things happen, Dan. You’re a tough kid. You’ll pull through. Just like you pulled through your mother’s death.”

“I didn’t pull through shit,” I whispered. “All I did was turn into a shithead. Doing drugs. Getting arrested.”

“But you chose to stop, Dan.”

Tears began to flow down my cheek. It was the first time I’d cried since my mother passed when I was sixteen.

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I never wanted to hurt you with all of that.”

“It’s okay. It’s in the past. And I never blamed you. You didn’t know how to deal with it. But look at you now! College graduate! Got a solid job. Your own apartment. Someday you’ll start a family. You’ll be okay, Dan.”

I wiped the snot out of my mouth.

“Hey, you remember Sengdao?” he asked with a lighter tone.

I chuckled.

“Yeah, I remember I used to call him the Watermelon Man because he would always have watermelon for us when we went to the Temple. Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve been there. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I figured since I haven’t really been there since Lele died, I might start going again. He’s been a huge help with doctor’s visits and such. Just wondered if you remembered him, is all. You ever think about going back to the Temple?”

“Nah, you know I don’t believe in anything.”

“Hmph. The Great Enlightened Atheist speaks. Well, you never know. You might enjoy seeing some old faces there.”

“That’s true,” I sniffled.

“Well, I need to get going. Just know that I love you, Dan. I love you and your brother more than anything.”

“I… I love you too, Dad.”

There was an odd noise from the other end.

“Dad?”

“Oh, sorry. Thought I saw something. Well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Dad.”

I waited for him to hang up, and stayed out on the porch, ignoring the rain beginning to come down.

After I went inside and finished my cigarette, I got ready for work, having the misfortune of being put on the night shift that day. I knew I would be late, but I didn’t care. They could suck my ass.

I arrived right before dinner and had to suffer through a lecture on the unprofessionalism of tardiness. As we were escorting everyone back to the common area, Dr. Sherman came in and told me to go to the front lobby, his grey moustache twitching like a caterpillar. Wondering what kind of trouble I would be in now, I was surprised to see Jan sitting next to Clay Shingle, who I’d only glimpsed on a couple of occasions during his weekly visits with Jan.

“What do you want now?” I snapped at her. She saw me and hobbled over to me in an oversized t-shirt and grasping my hand. I quickly shook it off.

“The hell you doing?”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she said, her eyes wide and hurt.

“Yes, yes I have.”

“How come?”

“Higher ups,” I lied. After what I’d seen on the security footage with Hal, I’d decided that if that thing wanted me to leave Jan alone, then damn if I didn’t do it. I didn’t have any room in my life to be worrying about… that thing. Although, I still heard noises in the walls and saw dark shapes flickering in the corner of my eye on occasion. And recently, they’d been getting worse.

“Hey!” Clay called, extending his hand. “You must be Daniel, right?”

“I am,” I said while I briefly shook his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m really glad Jan has such a great friend here.”

I swallowed and politely grinned.

He was wearing a white button-down shirt, suspenders, and horn-rimmed glasses with dark jeans. I could easily see him gloating over a collection of obscure jazz records and sipping on a cup of Starbucks.

“Clay, show him!”

“Show me what?” I asked.

“Well,” Clay answered, his face going grim, “Jan asked me to bring Mike’s old journal. She said you were interested in what happened?”

I was about to protest, but Jan cut me off.

“Yeah! Show him!”

Clay looked past my shoulder and then went back to where he was sitting. He picked up a green composition book that he’d set next to the magazines and brought it over to me. I took it from his hands and read the name scribbled on the cover: Michael Uriah Erikson.

“I really don’t want to—”

“Read it,” Clay shot, giving me a sharp look.

“Fine. I’ll read it.”

“Good. Well, Jan, it was good to see you, but I’ve gotta get going. Quinton’s waiting on me at home.”

“Bye, Clay!”

“It was good meeting you,” I said, a strained smile on my face.

“Yeah. Good meeting you.”

I had absolutely every intention in the world to throw the stupid thing in the trash the second I got home. I never was the type to mess with the supernatural. Yet in the depths of night, I found myself acting against my better judgement in an irresistible fit of morbid curiosity, and read the journal, painfully aware of invisible eyes glaring at me from the bedroom doorway. But in the morning when I went into the bathroom, I found the journal lying on the counter with a bloody handprint on it. Smeared in blood on the mirror were the words: Last Warning.

*  *     *     *  *

Thursday, January 15, 2004

Uncle Charlie called me today. Said that Ben’s living with them, now. God, I feel so fucking bad for Ben, man. Charlie told me that last month Dave beat the shit out of him and Penny. Like, he put them in a fucking hospital. Justice somewhat ensues, though, because Penny got Dave arrested. Fucking piece of shit. I hope he rots in prison. Charlie said we should get together sometime. It’d be nice to get to know Ben. He’s a good kid. Reminds me a bit of myself. After all, we both have friends who died. Except Ben’s friend was murdered by someone else. James was…. I don’t want to think about it.

Monday, January 26, 2004

Got in the letter today that NASA wants me to intern over the summer! I’m glad Dr. Berkley convinced me to send them my ideas on multiverse theory. They said they were interested in my ideas. I’ll definitely need to start fleshing them out soon. I’ve started rolling the numbers around in my head and think I have some good places to start.

Wednesday, February 4, 2004

Dear Diary,

Rosa’s a bitch. She just would not let me hear the end of it today. Yeah, Skid Mark offered me some coke at the party on Saturday, and yes, I did do a line. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be a fucking coke-head. Jesus. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, but god, I wish she wouldn’t be like this. Might try to smoke a bowl with her later, that way we can both just chill the fuck out and move on. I hate fighting with her.

Saturday, February 21, 2004

Fucking shit, man. Fucking shit. Larry called today. Just a few minutes ago, actually. Apparently, somebody broke into Helen and Charlie’s place and kidnapped Ben. They have no clue where the kidnapper is. Larry said he heard about it from a friend who works for the Maysburg Sherriff’s Dept. They had to fill out a missing person’s report. I’ll call Helen tomorrow. It’s late, I don’t want to keep them up.

Monday, February 23, 2004

I’m… I’m honestly too shocked to even begin to process this. It doesn’t feel real. Feels like a dream. Like I’ll wake up and it won’t be true.

I saw it on the news before Larry called. Somebody broke into Charlie and Helen’s house and shot them. Shot them both dead. And burned down the fucking house. And Ben’s still nowhere to be found. It was in the middle of a… a fucking blizzard, I guess. So nobody saw anybody in the yard or anything. I think some neighbors heard the gunshots, but when the cops and shit arrived, the house was already in flames. It’s just… just so fucking awful. I want to grieve, but I’m still trying to process the shear fact that it happened.

Friday, February 27, 2004

The funeral’s in two days. Got fitted for a suit today. This joint goes out to Charlie and Helen. And Ben, too. Really hope they find him soon. God, I need some coke. Might hit up Skid Mark in a few minutes.

Sunday, February 29, 2004

Funeral was today. The caskets were beautiful. Cherry wood with angels and flowers carved onto them. And in the centers of the two were two matching black roses gilded into the wood. I never even knew they could make caskets like that. And the headstones were even more beautiful. Both made entirely out of white marble. On the bases were their names and such, and there was a poem on each of them, too. On top of each base was an angel, one male and one female, holding a Bible and reaching towards Heaven. I just wish Ben could have been there.

But there was something off about Larry. Maybe it's just the shock of all this, but somehow in a way I can’t place my finger on, I don't think that's it. He was pale. Thin, too. He seemed tense and… scared. Scared of what, I don't know. He jumped at loud noises and didn't seem to want to meet anybody's eye. And he shook like a chihuahua. I just hope he's okay.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

FUCK! FUCK! Is my whole goddamn fucking family just going to start dropping like flies? Larry’s dead now, too. Gutted and left in a ditch. I talked to a friend of his on the phone, and they suspect it's gang related. Apparently, Larry busted a bunch of drug dealers recently that had ties to a gang up in Nashville. I can’t fucking deal with this, man. And still no sign of Ben.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

Am I going insane? I found this freaky-ass book in my dresser. At first, I thought that it must've been some sort of hallucination from some tabs I took last night, but I haven't taken anything all day, and it's still here. I haven't smoked any weed, taken anything, drank any alcohol, nothing. Hell, I haven't even smoked a goddamn cigarette.

It’s this leather book with a picture of a severed head stamped in red on the cover, and The Book of Agony gilded along the spine. And the pages were this strange grey color, and everything was written in fucking blood. Blood! And these pictures—oh, God, these pictures—are all of people being tortured in the most horrible ways imaginable. And they're all painted in blood, too. But that's not even the worst part. On the last fucking page is a painting of Larry lying on the ground, screaming, with his insides spilled out and pigs eating them. And the page before that shows Ben chained to a wall. This is too much. Just too fucking much.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

Tried to unwind today by going to the Grassmere Zoo with Rosa, Clay, and Jan. Somehow, I managed to have a good time, but for some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about James. I was a bit on edge, but overall, it was fun. Got into a little fender-bender on the way back, but nothing serious.

Friday, March 26, 2004

I’ve gotten some progress with my multiverse theories. Gave them to my professor to look over. Obviously, it’s all theoretical, but he seemed to be impressed. Pointed out some spots where I made some mistakes with the math, so I’ll have to fix that.

But… I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams about James, and… and what happened ten years ago in those woods. It seems like every single night I have to relive what happened. I keep seeing his dead body looking up at me with those maggots all over them. And that… that thing. I don’t even want to say its name. Funny how it instilled that kind of fear into me, to make me too afraid to so much as write it down. And the dreams are vivid, like real life. Why do I have to relive killing James every fucking night? Why? And those maggots spilling out of his body, defiling his corpse. And the tentacles. The teeth. That’s what I see every night. I thought I put all that behind me. Or as good as I can, at least.

And I see Uriah, too. I wonder if Clay still remembers it, or if he’s made himself forget? I would have convinced myself I was crazy by now, but Uncle Max remembers everything. Well, the Maggot never went in his head, but he remembers the trances Clay, James and I were in.

I’m so sorry, James. I didn’t mean to. It was my finger on the trigger, but it wasn’t me. That slug pointed the gun. I tell myself this, as though I’m telling you, but I can’t forgive myself. It was still my finger on the trigger.

I’m sorry.

Monday, March 29, 2004

We went to Harvey’s place to record for the new EP. We decided to call it Soul Prison. It was my idea. I dunno what made me think of it, the name just kind of came to me. Greg came in drunk as shit, though. I think we’re gonna scrap the guitars he did. We’ll have to record them later.

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

He was in my room last night. Rosa wasn’t home, but James… he… he spoke to me. I thought I was dreaming, but I’ve been awake since. He told me that he never forgave me for what I did. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t find any words. Even writing this is bringing tears back. Tears that have been sitting inside of me for ten years. But that’s not even the worst of it.

He tried to attack me. He said he was going to bring me back to where he went. To where he’s been all these years, waiting for me. He said it wants me. I don’t know what that means, but he forced me to fight back. I didn’t want to, God no, I didn’t. But I didn’t have any other choice. He was trying to kill me. I beat him over the head with a bat. By the time I’d washed my hands, though, every trace of him was gone. I think maybe I am going insane, after all. Fuck it. Let me go insane. I’ve seen the face of insanity. Let insanity devour me with its putrid ring of teeth. Let it grapple me and rip my body with its black slimy tendrils. I never wanted to live, anyways.

Sunday, April 4, 2004

I’ve seen James again. He keeps trying to kill me. Just today while I was taking out the trash behind Panera, he attacked me. Charged at me. Bared his teeth in my face and tried to bite out my throat. His breath smelled like blood.

Wednesday, April 7, 2004

I found that book again. The Book of Agony. James told me to read it last night in a dream. In the back, I saw myself. I was in what looked like the same dungeon everyone else was in. My hands and feet were tied, and my chest was sawed open like a reversal of that torture method the Vikings used, Blood Eagle, I think it’s called. Coals were being funneled down my throat, and my nose was hacked open, with needles jabbed into the openings. I’m scared. I’m really, really fucking scared. I know this can’t be my imagination, though. Not if the slug exists. If that exists, then I know damn well that there’s something going on here. And it fucking terrifies me.

I think I need to get a gun. Find my buck knife, too.

Thursday, April 8, 2004

Rosa doesn’t understand why I need a gun. But I can’t tell her. I can’t bring myself to make her think I’m crazy. I don’t want to see fear in her eyes whenever she looks at me.

And it’s not James. It’s an imposter, pissing all over my memory of James. It calls itself the Nameless. It wants me. It wants to take me just like it took Larry and Ben. And to think all this time they’ve been searching for Ben, he’s been dead. Because the Nameless told me about Ben. I plan on trying to find the body I imagine it’s somewhere close to Charlie and Helen’s place. I think the Nameless mentioned having Ben taken into a shack. When, I don’t know. But I have a feeling I might find something there.

Where is the Mother? I thought she could protect me.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

I brought up getting a gun to Rosa again. She didn’t take to it too kindly. We got in a big fight, and I ended up packing a few things and going to Jan’s. I think I’m gonna stay here for a few days, let things cool down between me and Rosa.

After I went to Jan’s I went to go look for the abandoned shack where Ben is. It took several hours, but eventually I did find it. I could tell right away that nobody had been in there for years. And sure enough, there were two rotting corpses. The first one was of a man with his pants around his ankles. The other was of a child. I almost vomited from the stench. Between the two were the fresh corpses of an owl and a cougar. When I saw the owl, I knew immediately that the Nameless must have put it there as a message. Because it knew that I’m not protected, and it wanted me to know.

And then… and then two figures emerged from the shadows; a man and a woman. They appeared to be monarchs from days when England was still nothing but mead halls. The man was wearing fanciful clothes of fur and skin, with an ivory crown on his head. The woman was also wearing skins, and wore a crown as well, a smaller one with emeralds inside of dark wood. I was taken away by their beauty.

“Do you know who we are, Michael?” she asked. She kicked away the dead owl like it was nothing more than a twig.

I shook my head as the man picked up the cougar and examined it with mild interest before setting it down again.

“You and I have met before, Michael,” she said. “Almost ten years ago.”

I looked at the dead owl and back up at her.

“Are you the Mother?” I asked.

She nodded her head. The man then approached me and said, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Though, while you don’t know me, I do know you very well.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am the Father.”

The Mother then spoke.

“We’ve been watching over you since the events surrounding your trip with your grandfather took place. We watched over Ben, too.”

I knew it was stupid of me to do, but I grew angry when she said this, and let it get the better of me.

“Fuck if you have,” I said. “That’s Ben’s dead body right there. You didn’t watch over him. You might have watched him, but you didn’t stop that monster from taking him. And you haven’t done jack shit to keep the Nameless from me, either. Why? Why haven’t you just killed it already? Huh? Why didn’t you protect Ben? And for that matter, why didn’t you kill that thing ten years ago? All you did was distract it. You could have killed it, I know it. You’re gods, right? Can’t you do anything you want? You want to protect us, but you just watch, now.”

They seemed to be slightly agitated, though not angry.

“We are not gods,” the Mother spoke. “And we are not all-powerful. We aren’t the Pillars. Even they are confined by rules. Perhaps we may resemble Human ideas of all-powerful gods, but that is not us. Some who have studied us have called us Divines, if you want to have a word for us.”

“Stop stalling,” I said. “I don’t know what these Pillars are, and I don’t care what people call you. Why haven’t you done anything?’

“Michael,” the Father said patiently, “Please, don’t let your anger consume you. We are not perfect. There is nothing that is perfect. To exist is to be imperfect, and to not exist is to be imperfect. Do not expect us to be capable of everything. And don’t fool yourself into believing that we have been idle. We’ve been doing much. But there is more at play than you know, Michael. That is why we interfered very little with Ben, even though we could have easily killed a Deity. And we didn’t kill the Wyrm because not because we chose to, but because we couldn’t at the time. We can’t kill one of our brothers.”

“I didn’t see you there,” I told him. “And what do you mean, your brother?”

The Mother put her hand on my shoulder, and instantly I seemed to calm down, a radiating warmth emanating from her.

“This is not why we are here, Michael. We are here to warn you. To prepare you.”

I could tell there was sadness in her voice.

“Warn me against what?” I asked.

“That we can’t protect you this time.”

I would have become scared, but her hand kept me calm as she put her hands around my own.

“Can’t or won’t?” I asked.

“Won’t,” the Father said. “And we are sorry. We are sorry for the pain you will endure.”

“But why?”

“Because,” the Mother said, “while you can only see a pinprick of the picture, we can see it all. And we must not interfere because of this.”

“But why? Please, just tell me.”

“You’ll have to wait, Michael. We’ll still be here, and we will interfere if necessary, but we can’t protect you right now.”

While I was not scared, despair shook me to my core. I looked down at the ground behind me and saw that damned book lying on the floor in the doorway. The Father and Mother noticed this, and within an instant they were in their animal forms, the Mother now a massive owl and the Father a cougar with matted hair that looked almost like vines. I turned back behind me to see a black smoky figure with two glowing eyes sunken into cavernous eye sockets grinning and reaching out for me.

It was about to wrap its fingers around my face when in an instant I was pulled backwards and thrown to the ground. When I looked back up, I saw the owl and cougar thrashing at the figure, and in an instant, it was gone, along with the book. For a moment I saw the Mother and Father back in their royal forms again, but within the next they were gone, and I was alone lying on top of Ben’s decayed body. I didn’t bother trying to bury Ben. Instead fled as quickly as I could.

I’m back at Jan’s now, though she isn’t home yet. I just wonder how long I have left.

Monday, April 19, 2004

It’s time. It’s going to try take me tonight, I know it.

While I was playing my set at with Slough, I saw him. I saw James. But he was different this time. He was in the crowd, grinning at me with blood and maggots tumbling out of his mouth and a bullet hole in his head, oozing brains and blood. He came to the front of the crowd and lifted his shirt. His abdomen was ripped open with maggots squirming out and intestines dangling from the torn flesh. His smile grew wider and he came up to my face. I was screaming… terrified. He said to me, “Come home.”

He raised his hand towards my face, but before he could I bolted out of the building and drove back here to Jan’s. I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I know it’s soon.

I just heard a noise in the bathroom. Like a dripping noise. A dripping, squirming noise. If it’s gonna be right now, then so be it. But I’m gonna take that Nameless fucker with me right to the goddamn grave. 