They know
They are angry
So they are restless
Her mother has recently left her hospital room, and it was not so long ago that James had finished questioning her. There was only one more person she had expected, Samantha, but for a reason unknown to her, her expectations were in vain. Samantha’s company is the last remaining remedy for her trauma she yearns for. A friend, a friend that might as well be her sister, since her own mother calls Samantha her “other daughter.”
Avery smiles at the memories that visit her in this moment of loneliness. She recalls the laughter, the joy, the peace that good memories bring, but her peace is not without sorrow. A long lost source of love enters her soul as the memory of her father gently fills her heart. He would come home after work, his hands and clothes stained with dirt, dust, and oil- all a result from another hard day’s work. As a small child, she would run to him as he opened the door, and he would laugh and smile at the sight of his little girl.
Her thoughts find one of the cherished memories of her father returning home from work. He picked her up in his arms, and wiped some oil on her face and asked her, “Have you been working all day too?”
He then lowered her down and she ran to her mother and said, “I’ve been working like daddy!” With crossed arms, her mother shook her head with a smile before meeting and kissing her husband. They were a family, a real family, but, as it seems for most things that appear to be perfect, it was never meant to last.
Avery notices a few tears have formed while she revived the memories of her father. She whispers, “I miss you.” She shuts her eyes and settles in her bed, waiting for sleep to carry her away. The calming ambience of the room convinces her it will be easy, but something else is suddenly there, within her. Her eyes open and her ears listen. Someone out in the hallway is speaking with urgency: perhaps a patient needs attention. More people begin raising their voices, and the muffled footsteps of someone running past her room causes her to raise her head towards the door. Something more is happening. More voices escalate to concerning levels and more people begin running up and down the hallway; what’s happening?
Her door swings open. She gasps and sits up in her bed as a nurse rushes towards her, “Avery! Are you alright?” As the nurse places a hand upon her arm, Avery witnesses all of her surroundings depart from her in an instant.
She’s now alone in darkness, seemingly hovering in nothingness. She looks down at herself to find she’s still wearing her hospital gown, and her brown hair floats about without gravity’s pull. Nothing astonishes her more than the fact she appears to be glowing, emitting a yellow light into the hazy blackness. She intently observes her hands as she studies her own bioluminescence.
She finds herself wishing she wasn’t hovering and instead was standing. As she wishes it, it becomes so, and her hair once again rests upon her back. To her amazement she’s standing on something that she can neither see nor feel. She simply is.
Seeking refuge from her solitude, she meagerly sounds her voice into the void, “Hello?” Her voice not only echoes continuously, but it also sounds different, less natural, and more ethereal. She immediately tests her own voice again in this place of obscurity. Louder this time, “Hello?” Her strange new voice once again echoes longer than expected, and she’s without need to take in a breath at all. She expels a final hello without taking in a deep breath, “Hello?” Intrigued by the absence of her natural urge to breathe she runs for a few seconds, and then stops to feel for the expected risen heart rate. When she feels the vein in her neck, no pulse can be felt and the natural urge to breathe remains non-existent.
She begins walking, in no particular direction; it seems to her there is no direction that begs to be followed. She walks at a brisk pace though nothing about her surroundings seems to change. This frightens her all the more, but nothing frightens her more than the sound of a voice that is not her own.
“Hello?” A weary, soft, voice of a woman reaches her ears. “Hello?” It says again, even more weary than the first utterance. Avery spins around to locate the source, but finds nothing; only darkness.
Another voice echoes throughout the darkness, this time a man, who’s voice is also weary, tired, and soft. “Hello? Who- who are you?” Avery spins again, still nothing physical can be seen.
She builds up the courage to answer the man’s question, “I’m Avery. Who are you?”
An answer echoes in response to her question, but it is the debilitated voice of yet another man, “We. Are. The dead.” When she hears this, something begins to take shape about thirty feet from her. Whatever her eyes are seeing grows closer and closer, slowly. Soon, this shape expands into a circle surrounding her and slowly closes in. The light shining from her body begins to illuminate what’s surrounding her as it grows closer. Faces fade into view, as if through a dense fog. Then, the rest of their bodies can be seen as they continue their advance. Soon, all can be clearly seen. They stop once they’re about ten feet from her; a complete circle surrounding her. Behind them, a crowd stretches far beyond her vision and fades into the darkness.
Slowly, she turns in a circle, examining the people surrounding her. They all appear to be middle-aged and wear a variety of modern clothes: from suits to t-shirts, sandals to boots. Their skin, however, is pale and colorless.
She locks eyes with a random individual, a man wearing overalls and a baseball cap, “Where am I? And who are all of you? And what are you doing here?”
She may have spoken comparatively quieter than her bellowed hello’s, but her voice still echoes on. The man she locked eyes with speaks in the same slow, weary, soft spoken voice that all have used before, “This is a prison. We are here because we are dead. You are not dead; your light shows that you are not dead.” Breaking eye contact, he looks down and says, “Just like how his light shows that he’s not dead.”
A taller woman directly behind Avery slowly speaks, and she turns to face her, “You’re not supposed to be here, just like he’s not supposed to be here.”
Avery steps closer to the tall woman speaking to her, “Who’s he?”
A different woman with long hair speaks to her left, and she turns to her, “The one who brought us here; the one who brought you here.”
“Why did he bring me here?”
“Because he has plans for you, just as he has plans for us. You belong to him now, just as we belong to him.”
Avery turns to a man with wide eyes and asks, “Why? Why is he doing this? Who is he? What’s his name?”
The man answers quickly with a loud panicked voice, “We’re not allowed to speak his name! We’re not allowed to speak his name!”
She flinches, stepping back into the center of the circle and looks down, away from the unblinking eyes of the dead. This must be another dream, another illusion brought upon by him. This thought suggests to her another terrible experience awaits, and she must escape it or suffer what is to come. She turns to the last woman she spoke to, “Can you help me?” She looks to the rest of her audience, “Can any of you help me? I don’t want to be here anymore!”
Their silence worries her, and as she waits for an answer, the multitude around her explodes into a fury of accusations directed towards her. One shouts, “We’re here because of you!” She recoils to the other end of the circle, into another, who yells, “Why didn’t you warn them?” She quickly returns to the center of the circle and lowers herself to her knees with her head bowed and ears covered. She weeps and shakes as the ceaseless shouts of the dead torment her with insults and accusations, “You’re weak! What will you do now? Our blood is on your hands! No one can help you! You’re alone! Guilty! Murderer!” The relentless, twisted voices continue their barrage until they turn into pure screams. Then, the screams begin to fade around her. Avery looks up to see them fleeing in all directions, disappearing from sight. She rises and scans her surroundings, with wishes of escaping this nightmare at the forefront of her mind.
A soft light behind her blooms into existence. She turns to discover it’s not just a light, it’s another person- but they too are glowing, casting light in all directions. She waits for the individual to approach her, but whoever they are, they remain steadfast. Desperate for answers- for anything really- she takes a few steps towards the glowing figure, but a deep, menacing snarl freezes her in place. Afraid to look about, she remains focused on the light. The growling transforms into speech, but the language is completely foreign to her. Although unable to comprehend what is being said, she somehow knows it’s filled with hate and malice.
Then, a male voice arises from the source of light. It is pure, powerful, and pleasant to her ears, “Begone! Torment her no more!” Her fear is replaced by serenity, and the creature instilling that fear leaves her presence. The man floats over to her, his identity hidden by the light emitting from his body. He lowers himself to her and draws closer yet. The light may be enough to hide his true self, but it is not bright enough to cause her to look away, “The darkness harbors much evil, and it is not to be traversed without caution.”
She steps back and asks, “Who are you?”
“We’ve spoken once before- well, I spoke to you and you listened.” Their voices echo into the surrounding void as they converse.
“You’re the one from my dream?” Her nervous tone transforms into one of anger as she says, “Are you the one who gave me that dream?”
He remains silent as her question echoes around them. Once the echoing has subsided, he speaks, “I gave you a warning that you did not heed, and I will provide you with another. Maybe this time you will act upon it; since you’re now aware of the consequences.”
She boldly takes a step towards him and screams, “What is all this? Why is this happening to me? What are you?”
He rises above her, and with outstretched arms he answers, “I am your only hope against the monster that haunts you. I am the solution. I am the means of appeasement, but I can only be this for you if you do what I say.”
With nothing more than a thought, she rises up to meet him face to face. Her hair, no longer tethered by gravity, majestically waves about once more, “How can I trust you? How can I trust I’m not dreaming right now? Is any of this real?”
“Are you aware of the saying that truth is always stranger than fiction? You’re experiencing the validity of that saying this very moment.”
“Prove to me this is real.”
“Alright. Your friend Samantha recently became an employee of Visions. The job she mentioned to you during your meeting yesterday.”
“Her job interview wasn’t until Friday, you’re wrong.”
He turns his back to her and continues speaking, “She made an attempt to visit you today, but the police wouldn’t allow it. So, she went in for her interview instead, after making a call, of course. She’s going to ask you if you would be willing to receive experimental treatment for your,” He turns to face her, “mental scars.”
“What?”
“Even before today your soul was wounded. I can see it now, the passing of your father has left its mark on you, Avery Thompson. Would you like to speak to him again? Say the goodbye you never had a chance to?”
The thought of it, speaking to someone you love that has gone from this life- to really speak to them, to see them, to embrace them, one last time before the end- how could she resist the temptation of such an opportunity?
In a wavering voice, she quietly says, “I would do anything to see him again, if I knew it was really him, and not my imagination.”
With a surprising amount of sincerity, the mysterious man before her conveys his sympathies, “Nothing would bring me more joy than reuniting you with your father. It’s a beautiful thing, to see two souls reunited.”
He hovers off to her side revealing a doorway that leads into a carpenter’s workshop. The air is thick with particles of sawdust floating through bright, yellow rays of sunlight that shine through the windows. Avery stares in disbelief, wondering if she’s really going to see her father again. Her doubts are slowly chiseled away with each impact of a hammer cascading through the open doorway; music to her ears. She hasn’t heard the song of her father’s craft in over a decade. Her first step into this new place of solace brings instant comfort and peace to her soul. The warm golden sunlight warms her skin as she inhales deeply. The smell of wood and sawdust have never been so refreshing.
She looks to her right and beholds a tall, burly man carving a bear out of a large log, his back facing her. Behind him are rolling hills of green filled with lush forests and the chorus of hundreds of songbirds singing with glee. She takes slow, cautious steps towards the most welcoming sight she’s ever known and, once she’s only a few steps away, she uses a word she thought she would never use again, “Dad?”
His arm freezes in place, just before the hammer would strike. He turns and sees his daughter, still small in comparison to him, but all grown up.
He drops the tools in his hands and rushes to her, picking her up in a big hug, “Avery! Oh, Avery its you! Its you! I’ve missed you so much!”
Tears flow from the eyes of both father and daughter in this moment of elation, “I’ve missed you too dad! I’ve missed you too!”
He sets her down and for a moment they look upon the other with smiles and teary eyes. Avery can’t help but embrace her father once more, “I’m sorry I never got say goodbye to you.”
He kneels before her and places a hand on her shoulder, “No, don’t be sorry. We’re here now, we’re here now.” He pauses for a moment, “Look at you, so beautiful and all grown up; you look just like your mother.” She can’t help but giggle and briefly look away. “Don’t miss me too much, we’ll see each other again someday.”
“Will we?”
He nods, “I promise, and I’ll have a special surprise waiting for you when you get here, but I’m afraid we have to say goodbye for now.”
They embrace once more and Avery says, “I love you, dad.”
“I love you too, Avery.”
Reluctantly, she says, “Goodbye,” and as she pulls away from her father he slowly fades away along with his workshop. Once again, she’s in darkness, hovering aimlessly. If she could shed tears in this place, it would be an endless stream.
The man made of light returns to her with a warning, “I have allowed you to see your father once more. Now you must allow me something.”
“What is it?”
“Another slaughter is going to occur, similar to the one you experienced. There will be no survivors. They will only know that you knew it was going to happen, and that will be enough. It will take place in the city of Bermuda, in the state of California. You will relay this to the authorities before tomorrow evening. Understand I’m trying to protect you from the one who’s responsible for all of this. If you continue to disobey me, there won’t be much I can do to stop him from causing you more pain, or worse. Until we meet again, Avery Thompson.”
In an instant, Avery is back in her hospital room. James paces back and forth near the door until he notices her open eyes.
He walks over to her bedside and asks, “Avery, did anything happen to you while you were out?”
Everything she saw and heard in that desolate place runs through her mind, and the meeting with her father becomes her only focus as a single tears runs down her cheek.
Chapter 7 releases on April 15th.