The Story Begins (32 page)

“What are you and what do you want?” he struggled to ask for still was his tongue heavy, and still did his blanket seem to promise to be his undoing. If the entity had heeded what was asked of it, its only response was creating even greater and unbearable reverberations in the wretched form born of the earth. Scarcely could Jaden bear it; his ear drums felt as though they verged upon bursting. Garnering what little might remained within him, with a herculean effort he managed a cry, for truly was his discomfort beyond what reason might conceive. Upon hearing Jaden bellow, again the entity lightened its hand; but alas, one horror only gave way to another. Jaden felt unseen hands pierce through his chest, though both his skin and flesh remained unbroken. His essence was then ripped forth from his body and then forced on bended knee in prostration before the manifestation that now began to come forth.

Jaden’s essence struggled to lift its head that he might look upon it. Its form appeared to be that of the being that had come of the nebula that had led them as they had traveled back to Mannheim. He had taken but a glimpse most fleeting of the being when he was then made to lower his face again and was held steadfast in the presence of the very radiant and glowing cloud-like being that towered above him. Jaden’s thoughts scattered in all the ways of the heavens. He was unsure of what length of time he had been able to think in a manner lucid, or speak unhindered but now found himself apologizing without end for deeds he believed he must have done though he knew not what. If such is my fate when I have only blasphemed, how much more the suffering of those who do even more? he thought. Had Jaden not been made as rock there where he knelt, his form would have become as nothing for the resonant voice that spoke upon Jaden’s completion of his thoughts set his form in a state of flux when it said, “Though I hardly begin to touch thee, behold how you make haste to prove yourself a fool without heart, brave in thine own mind but verily a coward before my presence. You make as though ye have become gods that may act with impunity yet I but cast my eyes upon you and ye cower and remember you are but fleeting creatures, wretched being!” In utter dismay and fear, Jaden listened. “You shall come to remember us,” it forewarned.

“Remember? Us?” whispered Jaden, fearful that his voice might now draw even greater attention upon him. How many demons do I have after me, and why? Can this be a demonic pact of the past for which I am payment? his addled mind pondered.

“You fear demons and devils!” said the entity of Jaden’s thoughts.

Jaden’s form still remained in a state of flux but now trepidation forced him to convulse as well. “Wh… wh...who…” he stammered. “Who are you?” he finally managed to ask with a voice that quivered.

“You know well who I am, and that I am!” the being said then suddenly vanished.

*

Jaden’s
eyes opened to a dark room. He couldn’t have been any more certain that he had just lived through hell yet there he lay upon a warm bed as though all had always been well with him. How serene it all felt. Though he was not where he expected to find himself, he felt a familiarity about the place. He knew it. Another lay in bed beside him. It was a young lady whose head lay resting comfortably upon his bosom. Though all was dark about him and he wasn’t quite certain who she was, he was absolute in the knowledge that he did know her. Instinctively he reached for the night lamp he knew sat atop a nightstand to his side. He found himself at Hojos with his beloved Melanie by his side. He looked upon her and admired her beauty, her grace, and her beautiful, flowing, black hair. How beautiful and peaceful she looked. He raised the covers slightly and looked beneath. She had on the same nightgown she had worn the night she had been adamant that he stay with her. Was all that he had been through but a dream? All was exactly as it had been before they had fallen asleep, including the nightgown that hung upon the bathroom door which, come morning, would mislead Tina to think that which wasn’t. “Melanie,” he whispered. She stirred but awakened not. “Melanie,” he whispered again. Sleepily she opened her eyes.

“Yes, Jaden,” she answered lovingly, as one who heeded the call of a soul most cherished. “Are you all right, Jaden?” she asked as she caressed his face.

“Is this a dream?” he asked. She smiled.

“If it is a dream then whatever answer you wish of me would be of no consequence.”

Now he smiled. “Melanie?”

“Yes, Jaden,” she answered softly.

“I wish you loved me as you always will Mike.”

“Jaden, who is Mike?” asked Melanie, her intonation denoting uncertainty.

“Your high school sweetheart,” answered Jaden.

“Then this just might be a dream, Jaden, because there isn’t a Mike. There has never been anyone, my sweet. The bond that I share with you is far greater than that which I share with any other man.”

“Pinch me that I may know this is not a dream,” Jaden asked.

“Silly boy!” she teased.

Silly boy, I dreamt of those words, thought Jaden. “I’ll be right back,” said Jaden as he got out of bed. He looked about the room. All really was just as he remembered and expected it to be. He made his way to the bathroom, flicked the light switch and then looked into the mirror. Was this a second chance? He pinched himself on the cheek. He felt it hurt. He didn’t remember why he had done so then but now remembered having pinched himself in similar fashion yesteryear when he was but a child. He felt as though, in a mere few hours, perhaps minutes, he had lived years past when he now found himself. Yet there he was with his beloved Melanie and, seemingly, a chance to relive that which he had foolishly shunned.

“Jaden, is all well?” asked Melanie from where she lay.

“All is well, my love,” he whispered as he looked upon his reflection one last time before turning away from the mirror. He was oblivious to the scowling eyes that looked back upon him through the reflection of his own eyes. “I’m fine,” he said a little louder as he turned off the light and returned to lie beside she whom his heart loved above all else. He lay back in bed, and as though they were a couple, Melanie again rested her head where she had before. Jaden caressed her. She smiled.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he entreated softly.

“Though a stubborn soul, I am with you always,” she promised.

He kissed her upon the forehead, elated that he had woken up to a chance to be happy. He promised himself never again to cast away grace. He then succumbed to sleep with thoughts of bliss upon his mind.

*

“Awaken,
infernal spirit!” commanded a thundering, threatening voice. “Bear witness to your wretchedness for behold how in your slumber you lament and wish a woe of thine own making undone. What manner a fool are you that grace ye so readily cast away, vile creature?” it demanded. “Though you wish undone that wrought upon thy head by thine own wretchedness, behold, I witness even as I speak how yet again shall you shun that given you. Awaken and look upon the doom that awaits ye who wish to falter,” it commanded. Jaden awakened upon the second command. He now knew what he had believed his reality to have been but a dream for he awakened to find himself in his apartment upon a bed drenched of perspiration. He remembered his dreams, in particular the one where he had felt himself descending into oblivion to discordantly exist within a state of nonexistence.

Jaden rolled lazily onto his back. The drenched bed felt uncomfortable. “Holy shit! That was one hell of a nightmare!” he said. “That was the scariest and most vivid dream that I’ve ever fracking had.” He recalled calling upon God during his hellish nightmare and laughed at the recollection. “It’s amazing how contrite one can be from one moment to the next when believed to be at your end,” he said casually while staring at the ceiling.

He rolled out of bed to face the closet adjacent to his bed, looked at his reflection and smiled. He then stood up and stretched, much amused by his hypocrisy; he found his attempt at prayer that he might escape his nightmarish ordeal quite amusing. Eyes now closed he turned that he may face the bedroom door. Hands resting on his hips and eyes still shut, he flexed his neck that he might relax the muscles. While rotating his neck in a downward motion, he opened his eyes. His laughter ceased forthwith. How quickly merriment gave way to a dread and apprehension so profound that one may quite easily categorically deny the human soul to be capable of experiencing.

He fell backwards, backpedaling to his nightstand. Within mere seconds he found himself drenched yet again for he remembered what he had suffered during the night. He breathed hurriedly and heavily. His mind raced. Us, the being had said, he remembered. Having hinged upon the fringes of a deliberate and excruciating descent into oblivion at but the presence of one, surely the presence of a like companion would have brought upon him a manner of doom ineffable. What had he done that had been so awful that beings he couldn’t even possibly begin to fathom would wish to haunt him? He remembered the breaking sound of glass all too vividly. And there, broken before him, lay the shattered shards of glass that had once been the vase for which he had failed to find a suitable resting place and had chosen to let rest upon the dresser. Whereas he had awakened believing his ordeal to have been but a dream, before him lay proof indubitable that his most certainly had not been a mere nightmare.

As Jaden sat there horrified, his face aghast as though one who faced a fate far worse than the human imagination could ever possibly conceive, a dense and luminous grayish cloud began to appear above the shards. It drew nigh him then slowly enshrouded him and said in a thunderous voice, “Indeed, a fool you are! I shattered the glass that you may know with all certainty that yours was not but a working of thy mind in thy sleep.” No sooner had he been fully consumed by the presence than did it simply vanish.

Jaden found himself levitated in the midst of a dark chasm, petrified and cold as stone. His legs were straightened, his toes pointing downwards, his arms as though fastened to his sides, his chin slightly tilted upwards, and his eyes staring out into the great dark void above. Never could Jaden have ever imagined a fear so profound, a fear far beyond what reason might fathom, or even the soul merely begin to endure before simply ceasing to exist, being in such near proximity to a presence he believed boded ill for him. Then the cloud that had taken him suddenly came forth from naught and hovered before him, taking no definite form, remaining amorphous and ever-changing. The entity hadn’t any defining characteristic but its glowering eyes; they were the only constant in the being’s formlessness. It circled about him.

The might that emanated from the being in whose grasp Jaden lay ensnared was far too great for any living creature to bear. Jaden’s body distorted uncontrollably as the very building blocks of his form wished to flee from the whole that was his body. Jaden was certain his being was held together only by the grace of the being that continued to slowly circle about him as though studying him. In the presence of what was empyreal, Jaden felt his existence to be of far less significance than the dirt upon which we tread. Then, unexpectedly, the being ceased encircling him and raced towards his face before abruptly stopping right before the very tip of his nose. It glowered at him then said in a resonant voice, “It is only just begun...”

The Story Begins

ISBN: 978-0-9904512-4-2

Copyright: Modou Fye ©2014

First published 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior written permission and consent of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.