Chapter 5: The Secrets we keep.
A dreadful rumbling resounded from every lesion upon the land, pressured by the furious vibrations beneath their feet. Hadge could scarcely fathom the wrath that soon waited them, aware of only one thing, “Hell hath no fury like the Devil scorned.”
The backlash of Hell fumed far and wide, seething a blinding black vapor. As the onslaught of vapors seeped from every crack in the land, choking the air with the smell of death. Then the rumble transposed into a roar, a volcanic roar from the depths below the ground, as every hole abruptly burst with black flames. The sinister flames charred everything in its wake, the dead pines, the woodbines, and destroyed the remainder of the reaver factory. The destructive flames arched vehemently higher, merging at the highest point in the sky, shifting and changing like a maddening storm.
Everyone was affixed to the surging black mass, unsure of what wickedness truly lingered before their stricken eyes. Then at last they witnessed its shocking transformation into the shape of a demonic face, the face of the Devil.
The face of evil dwarfed all else, its unbreakable gaze leering sinfully in their path, as if it were seeking them out. The face stopped only for a moment, a moment to laugh, a sound that chillingly raised every hair upon their bodies, alarmed to this creatures intent. It lunged suggestively towards them, close enough they could hear the hiss of its malevolent flames licking the silence of this world, and the crackle of its deadly jaws, which spread wide enough to swallow them whole. That sweltering dark opening was a gateway straight to Hell, as a rush of screams pierced into this world of the living, marking the world of the damned. Soon a collection of foreboding howls quelled the screams, and the murky darkness within the jaws insanely rippled, hiding its threatening secrets amid the insidious black. No time to think, no time to move, as masses of dark creatures poured from the Devils lips, tainting this soil with their evil presence, the Devil had released the hellhounds.
Hundreds of deadly hellhounds fell short of the shore, landing in the marsh of human waste, still others deftly bounded over the ones whom fell first, similar to stepping-stones across the great divide. Every hellhound was hell bent and unstoppably fast. Their unusual front hands stretched wide, firmly planting a grip on the surface beneath them, accelerating to speeds beyond any human understanding.
Hadge and the others stood in shock; positive the outcome this time didn’t look so good, because death was on its way. Second by second in the unfair medium of time, the hellhounds continued to move closer, hacking at the slow wit of its indubitable prey. Hadge had only clear thought, which played over and over in his head, informing him, “We’re dead.” There seemed to be no hope. The monstrous horde quickly advanced, with murder in their blood shot eyes. Until a few kindling words purged Hadges lingering despondency, and his inner voice gave him some words of advice, “Hope without trying is no hope at all.”
A tiny voice yipped, “Run!” Ruby had spoke in his ear, trying to stir him into action. Hadge at once was awake, and aware of the dangerous position they now stood, as he roughly bellowed athwart the immense echoing lands, loud enough for every living thing to take notice, “RUUUNNNN!” He guided everyone within arms length with his prodding hands, certain safety would be hard to obtain at this time, snapping, “MOVE!” The anxious tenor quaked in his voice, “MOVE!”
Hadge knew they would have to protect themselves, they couldn’t possibly outrun these animals, they would have to find a weapon, and anything would do. He searched the harsh lands as he ran; black snow had covered most everything, except the stalks of deadened plants. He started to believe it was hopeless once more, as the strain of his backpack irritably pulled on his shoulders, and he crossly jerked it forward, seriously thinking, “Just drop it!” Oddly he felt a corner of the book gouge him in the back, an unbearably heavy object, like carrying a rock. Gravely he could see the unsightly forms of hellhounds in his peripheral vision, realizing it was much too late for weapons. Then the hot soured breath of the hellhounds curled his nose, expecting the end to come any second now, feeling painful nips at his arms, with the warmth of his blood meeting the frozen ground. Eerily something slithered through the foliage, snaking under his feet, and he had to wonder, “What else had the Devil released?”
Unpredictably the woodbine vines cast from the undergrowth, thousands of tentacles, halting the hellhounds in their tracks, weaving a lofty twenty-foot wall between them and the beasts. Uwee laughed, stopping to stare, “Look at that.” He mockingly pointed, “Come and get us now!” The beasts excitably paced beyond the makeshift prison bars, some of the hellhounds viciously gnawing the vines, others clawing. While still others climbed with those bizarre integrated hands, one hand over the next, and the barrier would most certainly be temporary. Hadge fearfully continued to urge everyone, “Keep moving!” Uwee blew him off, saying casually, “Everything’s fine.” Hadge had no time for stupidity, angrily pulling the grubb by the ear, commanding the situation, “Come on grubb!” Hearing the following whiney complaints, “OUCH, Ouch, ouch.”
They ran to the point of near exhaustion, as several dim structures appeared on the horizon, nearly a mile from where they were. Hadge was certain it was the remains of old lady Egdah’s farmhouse; he had been there many times. In fact it was the place he’d found the Novena backpack, as he tugged it into place again, convinced he heard murmuring when he jerked.
Strangely the murmurs reminded him of the old woman, memories that had not belonged to him, but rather from Hadyn. Suddenly it crept into his head, recalling; the crazy old woman sat in her study, sipping a strange brew of vanilla café. She informed him that she had something important to tell him, and went on to speak of different worlds, saying something about mirrors, and lost within time. Even as she spoke odd sounds murmured from a nearby bench, and she kept talking as if she hadn’t heard it at all. Recounting her strange claim of noises coming from her well.
He wasn’t sure how he knew all this, but he did know that the old woman had bizarrely vanished, and that her grave in the cemetery was empty. Some had believed her disappearance was due to foul play, however she had spoke of places and things most never heard about, and wondered if she had simply gone home. Hadges head began to ache, as he rubbed the pain and memories away, very curious, “How do I know this? It happened so long ago.”
Reybe’s consistent barking had grown persistently louder. Hadge nervously glanced to see why, turning just in time to see several of the hellhounds climbing over the top of the wall. He knew there would be more to follow, seeing them easily scale the vines, until there were nearly a dozen beasts bounding their direction. Hadge anxiously accounted the entire group, and immediately was aware someone was missing, Feo was nowhere in sight. “Where is he?” His thoughts shrieked, “Did the Hellhounds get him?” He fearfully searched the faces once more, praying he’d made a mistake, and Feo would be there somewhere, but still he was nowhere to be seen.
Then the fairies protectively gathered, much like a swarm of bee’s, with their whimsical laughter, making a silhouette of the group, which ran in the opposite direction, trying to lead the hellhounds astray. This ploy didn’t work on the hellhounds; the crafty beasts didn’t follow, not falling for such trickery. Hadge could only surmise it was because of there heightened animal senses, which reasonably could be his only conceivable guess. The hellhounds increasingly drew closer, at phenomenal rates of speed.
Hadge counted heads once more, as Uma and a few others were now missing, and he frantically cried out, “Uma!” Positive the hellhounds were taking them out one at a time. Hadge twisted to see the demons seconds away, with only a breath between them. He needed a weapon, and needed it now. The book stabbed him in the back once more, as if to declare here I am, a semblance of a weapon. Hadge swiftly pulled the book from his backpack, wielding it tightly in his hands; it seemed to be a quite formidable weapon in the cemetery. Rapidly his vision moved from the beasts to his friends, as he now noticed everyone had vanishe
d except he and Reybe. Instantly screaming, “Uwee!” With his mind in utter turmoil, “I was supposed to keep them safe.” He was upset and feverishly wanting answers, “What happened to them? Did the Hellhounds get them?” His brain like a train wreck, “I have to find them!”
All of a sudden he heard Reybe yelp, as one of the demon dogs bit his hind leg, and they fiercely tumbled in the grass. “Reybeeee!” Hadge shrieked. He too found himself in dire straights, with the hot stinking breath of several hellhounds curling his nose. They were near enough to hear every movement their rigid muscles made, without a doubt he knew they were behind him now, and the last man to fall.
Hadge could feel the anger welling up inside of him, the time for retribution had come, and he would no longer idly stand by and let them prey on the weak. He swiftly swung the book in a circular pattern around himself, hitting four of the beasts one by one. The satisfaction of watching them whimper to their deaths evilly warped his lips, and the thought of revenge sounded so sweet. His dark emotional side was now in control.
Suddenly the woodbine vines rose up from the ground around him, trying to pull him out of harms way, and swiped tendrils at the beasts. But he’d dashed like a madman to help Reybe fend off the three surrounding him, shrieking murderously, “Die!” He struck the three demon dogs one at a time, watching them thud to the ground like a load of bricks, at once dieing where they fell.
Hadge protectively leaned down to rub his old friends battered body, promising, “It’ll be alright boy.” Then a hellhound leapt over his head, grabbing at the book, while another grabbed at his waist, with those damnable humanlike hands. Hadge would not permit the Devil to get his hands on the book; he knew it could destroy what’s left of this world. Horrifyingly he felt the sensation of the book slipping from his very grip, nonetheless he wouldn’t allow that to happen, blaring, “NoooOOOOOOOO!” The maddening possessive hum in his tone somehow strengthened his grip, roaring the words, “The book is mine!” It was a tug of war; he was sandwiched between two hellhounds. He jerked hard enough to trip over the one behind him, falling hard on its leathery body, pulling the other beast atop him. Ominously the beast on top released the book, raising its sadistic hands, and exposed its razor sharp claws. It was ready to slash its wary victim, and Hadge had nowhere to run. In the distance the sounds of other hellhounds were coming up fast, he was positive if he didn’t die now, it wouldn’t be long before his death would arrive.
In a matter of seconds Reybe had hobbled upright, and lunged at the odious beast, knocking it from Hadges chest. He had ripped one of the clawed hands completely from the creature’s arm, as it wailed out in pain. Then the mass of hellhounds arrived, drawn to the injured wailing beast, as they too had joined the attack upon Reybe. Rapidly Reybe’s form vanished among the monstrous creatures, and his blood curdling cries resounded everywhere. Hadge desperately screamed, “Reybe!” Then jumped to his feet, and began to violently kick and swing the book at the beasts. Some of the hellhounds redirected their attack to him, and others died by his hands, until the shrill of the Reybe’s cries died away, but the battle raged on.
All at once Hadge shockingly felt his body being dragged, “Oh my Yahveh!” He howled, “I’m gonna die!” He imagined a hellhound at his ankles, pulling him away from Reybe, and all he could really think of was his friend, how he must be in pain. Yelling, “Reybe!” He fought and twisted against his dark assailant, discovering it wasn’t beasts that had held him, it was the woodbine vines, dragging him unceremoniously through the field, to only Yahveh knew where.
Hadge now knew what must’ve happened to the others, as the woodbine vines rose up all around him. The vines tried to keep the hounds at bay, while still other vines swiped at the Hellhounds attacking Reybe, but the mass of vicious creatures kept coming. Hadge didn’t want to go, he couldn’t just leave his friend, screaming, “Nooo!!” grasping at the leaves around him, “I’ve got to help him!” The vines continued to pull him away, across the ashy field, and down into Margaret Egdah’s well. He splashed in the cold water at the base, feeling his breath momentarily suck from his chest, as fairies nervously flittered around him, asking, “Are you alright?” Angrily he fought, “No!” Swatting at the little pests, quite insistent, “I have to go back and help Reybe.” He could hear Ruby’s dismayed voice, “Its too late.” Hadge just couldn’t accept that to be true, howling, “No!” He was sure of one thing, the fairies didn’t intend to help him. He jumped up clawing at the cold stonewall, “I have to help him.” Feverishly trying to climb out. The fairies half-heartedly flew about looking heartbroken, murmuring amongst themselves. Hadge continued to cry out, “You don’t understand. I promised him everything would be alright.”
At that moment the fairies began to sing a soft melodic song. Hadge furiously shouting, “Leave me alone.” As he continued to battle, sensing sleep overpowering him, until he silently slipped to the watery floor. Then he could feel the vines move him, through the caverns below the well, hearing Ruby’s teeny tiny voice reassure him, “Things will be right in the end.” With his silenced voice still shrieking in his skull, “Nooooooooo!”
Hadge was neither asleep nor awake, sound and touch became his only two senses. He could hear a constant trickle of water, as the water incoherently prattled the length of his voyage through the cave. The rustling sound and feel of the vines gently moving his listless body somewhere deep beneath the well, as the mind numbing drips picked at the distant sounds of the ocean, like the hum of a shell. Inexplicably rather odd noises intermingled with the calm of the sea, a summary of soft loathsome moans, with a familiar vacancy of tone, which reminded him very much of the zombies from the sewers. Then the sounds of cascading water drowned it all out, and the monstrous moans vanished, and he sensed his body being lowered. He could feel tiny flecks of water spraying his skin, and all activity at last come to rest, amid the drone of a waterfall, which little by little eased him into a sound sleep.
Hadge rested for what gave the impression of hours, perhaps minutes, since he had no real measure of time. His mind inquired about everything he sought to know, mulling over the safety of his friends, assured the fairies have everyone out of harm's way. To listening hard for any commotion around his location, and picking out the infinitesimal rhythmic sounds of breathing that had come to his attention. As it vibrated in and out, reminiscent of the soft melody rendering the land, but the answer eluded him, “What could be?”
All at once an unknown voice spoke, saying, “He doesn’t know who he is.” It was the voice of a female. Then another nameless voice pealed, “All he has to do is ask.” This time it was male, and another voice, and another, cultivating into conversations, as thousands of voices all called his name, “Hadge.” The more he strained to hear, the less could be heard. He was worried it might be Uwee and the others, what if they needed his help. He frantically fought to rouse, hearing no more than the mumbles of his own voice, “What do you want?” Sitting bolt upright on a bed of vines, and the voices had rapidly departed, with only the sounds of the waterfall left behind.
Immediately his sight was attracted to the sparkling white quartz ceiling, like millions of stars in the night sky. He curiously noted similarities between this cave, and the peculiar book from his nightmare, anxiously wondering, “Where’s the book?” Sensing the consoling weight of the book in his hands, and he momentarily relaxed, letting his memories fall back into their rightful order.
Hadge let his eyes fall back to the twinkling ceiling, how its uneven surface seemed to capture tiny fragments of none existent light. It was truly captivating, as the light sparkled like fairy dust allover the entire space. The sparkling dust covered the flowering woodbine vines to a glittery perfection, which thrived from floor to ceiling in the cave. Its intricate heart shaped leaves and petals was so overgrown that it hid the cave walls, and mushrooms nearly from sight. Here and there the grayish mushrooms peeked from beneath the leaves, as vines and mushrooms followed the patterns of the rocks. The vine
s gradually began to break up athwart the floor, as stalagmites prickled the landscape, which gently rolled into a meadow of greenish moss, and ended at the shore. It all harmoniously merged around a large luminescent pool of clear blue water, as the water merrily leapt over the edge of a crescent shaped fracture in the ceiling. The waterfall playfully skipped down the gleaming white cave walls, foaming over the bed of glo rocks lining the bottom of the pool.
Hadge was positive it had to be the same connecting pool from his own caves system, even as the gentle light hinted to an entrance beneath the waters surface, an entrance to a place he once called home.
Extraordinarily for the first time he noticed flecks of light emanating from all the gray mushrooms hidden beneath the overgrowth of vines, as he curiously pondered, “I’ve never noticed that before.” He walked closer to a tier of mushrooms, exploring one of the odd lights, as that uncanny source of light led to a dimple in the side of the mushroom, and he leaned in to take a look. It was a teeny tiny window, with a little fairy moving about its dainty abode, seemingly resting in a comfy mushroom chair. This was the fairies homes. Then he realized thousands of dimples marked the mushrooms throughout the cave, feeling suddenly awe-stricken as he looked around in glorious amazement at the fairies hamlet.
Suddenly the wails of someone crying intervened with his fascination of this fairy world. Hadge turned just in time to see Uwee mischievously dart through the cave, Uma irately chasing after him, squealing accusations, “You pulled my hair!” He laughed, “Prove it.” Then kept running. Hadge didn’t have any doubts that he’d done the deed he was accused of doing, however was pleased to see everyone was safe, including the two small children they had found in the field, and chuckled lightly at the notion, “Apart from Uma’s hair of course.”
Hadge still had the impression however something was missing, checking all the faces in the cave, and he had to ask, “Where is Reybe?” The agonizing memory quickly returned, in the company of an immense sadness, which rushed back like a plague, and he cried, “Reybe!” He searched the faces in the room once more, hoping the recollection was untrue, but Reybe was not here. He knew unerringly what he had to do, flatly stating, “I’m going back.”
Promptly the fairies flocked from their homes, fluttering in his path, humming in a tone quite alarmed, “Nooooo!” Hadge stepped right through them, like water beading off his skin, saying firmly, “You can’t stop me.” Ruby’s tiny voice fearfully sighed, “Its too dangerous.” He retorted, as he began to climb the rock wall next to the waterfall, “Danger didn’t stop Reybe from helping me.” Ruby unhappily succumbed, “Then I’m coming with you.” Hadge turned to evenly size up the tiny fairy next to his ear, taking into account the dangers that lay ahead, and at last agreed, “Ok.” Hadges mind settled out of the fact he knew Ruby would be safe as always, fairies were very resourceful, “But.” He added, “Everyone else stays here.” Uwee promptly objected, “Wait a minute.” A vine wrapped around his body, trapping him to the spot, yelling, “You can’t go without me!” Hadge boldly smirked, “Watch me.” Then he witnessed Uma yank a chunk of hair from the back of the ensnared grubbs head, and all the tiny fairies giggled at Uwee’s surprised expression.
A vine curled up beside Hadge, ready to lift him out of the cave, hauling him upwards through the crescent shaped fracture in the ceiling. Then it transported him the length of the crawl space, and out into the deep well. The vine was like an elevator, lifting him higher and higher, even as the screen of vines capping the well crept apart, allowing him to exit. At last depositing him on firm ground once again.
It was eerily silent outside, his mind blaring, “What happened to all the hellhounds?” Everywhere the long shadows crept athwart the darkness, shadows that could be almost anything, living or dead. He remained nervously aware of the field, knowing anything may be hiding among the dead plants. Hadge could see the crumbled outline of the farmhouse, and was positive Reybe couldn’t be that far away, but on the other hand he worried, “Where are all the hellhounds?” He was certain by the sheer numbers of them, they couldn’t just vanish. Cautiously he traversed towards the remains of the farmhouse. The black snow overturned below his feet, a testament that the hellhounds were here. Then he found blood, in a small matted area of the field, which clotted the black snow, and a clawed hand nearby, certain he must be close. Every step he took was like a knot tying tighter in his chest, anxious that at any given moment a hound could jump from the darkness, and he couldn’t be certain at that time he would be ready for the attack. He wandered several feet away, stumbling blindly, his foot halted in its tracks by a large massive figure, four figures to be exact. It was the four hellhounds he’d killed with the book, as the dead bodies were easily hidden by the darkness. Hadge now knew he was really close, warily moving deeper into the danger zone, seeing mound after mound of bodies. The piles of hellhounds had collapse to the very spot where the woodbine vine wall had once been, but the wall hadn’t killed them. He could hardly believe the beasts were all dead, as he kneeled next to one of the monsters, poking it with his dagger, quite curious, “What could have killed them?”
Hadge looked out across the sea of bodies asking the most important question, “Where is Reybe?” He recalled the last place he’d seen him, close to the farmhouse. Slowly he moved in that general direction. It was a hunt throughout the darkness, like blindly looking for a needle in a haystack, overturning corpse after corpse, until at last he found the remains of his friend beneath several dead hellhounds. Then Ruby anxiously whispered in his ear, “We need to hurry.” However he barely seemed to notice her at all. Hadge tenderly stroked Reybe’s head; his voice quivering through choking tears, saying, “I’m sorry…” He knew his friend was sadly long since dead, even as he thrust the lifeless hellhounds aside.
Suddenly something moved on the hellhound rolling from atop Reybe’s body, possibly a muscle, yet he really couldn’t tell. Hadge looked even closer at the beast, seeing something frightening move just under its dark leathery skin, and he was absolutely positive he’d seen this before. He had seen it in Nibbs; sure it was the spawn from the Gehemma River. The spawn were hideous little creatures, creating quite a lot of havoc for its size, they had eaten the Devil’s dogs from within. Hadge thought it was rather ironic one creation from Hell killed another, mockingly chuckling beneath his breath, “The Devil is an idiot.”
Abruptly a maelstrom of babble wafted across the field, sounding in a weird way like talking. However the language wasn’t one that Hadge recognized, as a matter of fact he’d only heard two species ever speak, humans and fairies. He nervously searched the darkness, rather leery about who or what was out there.
Ruby had also seemed fairly skittish, flitting swiftly back and forth, as she fearfully pointed out to the rolling darkness, “There!” Hadge could make out several shadows lurking about the mounds of carcasses. The shadows babbled between other throaty sounds, a disgustingly familiar chaw, reminiscent of Uwee’s gluttonous devouring of food on a good day. Then he realized what was out there, creepers, they had arrived to feast on the corpses. Hadge knew the creepers could smell death from miles away, and was certain there would be many more creepers to follow. Thereafter he realized even more shadows had gathered around the dead, and was convinced creepers would overrun the whole place very soon.
He turned to look at Reybe’s lifeless body, knowing it wouldn’t be safe here, as he pulled the dogs torn body from the pile, glumly uttering, “I cant leave him here.” Ruby flittered closer agreeing, “No, we cant.” As she shifted in the direction of Margaret Egdah’s farm, “Come.” She said, “I know a place.”
Hadge adjusted Reybe’s body over his shoulder, following the tiny fairy to the suggested site, Margaret Egdah’s farmhouse, or what was left of it. The oak trees that were around the house laid uprooted and dead, there was nothing left of the house, except the rocks of the foundation, as if the home had exploded. Hadges hand wiped the layer of ash and blood from the tree roots, as th
e eerie tale of the boogeyman played in his head, “He grew from a root, angry and wronged, the penance for death, is an innocence song.” Ruby inquired, “What are you thinking?” He laughed at the idea, saying, “Nothing at all.”
Then looked around at this empty place, confused how being here would help, declaring, “I don’t see anything.” Ruby purposely fluttered to the ground, near where an old fireplace had once been. The waft from her wings shifted enough of the ash from the hearth, revealing the blackened rock beneath, announcing, “Here.”
Hadge looked skeptical at the blackened stone, and back to Ruby’s eager expression, unsure of what to do, asking, “What is this?” Ruby restlessly tried to explain; “I’ve seen an old woman from time to time.” She breathed, “She always comes here.” He repeated in disbelief, “Old woman?” Having the scary notion that Margaret Egdah may not be dead, because no one ever really found a body, and some believed she might have been a witch.
Suddenly the disturbing sounds of the creepers seemed to grow louder, as he came to the realization that now was not the time for thought, but rather action. Hadge quickly set Reybe on the ground next to him, and started to brush the debris away from the stone, the more he brushed away, the more he uncovered, like an archeological find, wondering, “Will I find Margaret Egdah?” He unearthed the bizarre stone, skulls and other bones of all sizes were imbedded in its limestone, and quartz surface, as he shockingly breathed, “Oh my Yahveh…” Each of the distorted skull faces was unnerving, as a glint from the eye sockets seemed to watch your every move. He found that to be quite odd, since they had no eyes.
Hadge touched one of the tiny skulls, realizing they were no more than children, and couldn’t imagine why someone would do this. Instantly he felt a range of emotions, starting with anger, and concluded amid an overwhelming sense of grief. A kinship of sorrow beat loudly in his heart, finding words were replaced by gulps of air. Quickly panic set in, as he stared into the face of the unknown, hearing the haunting sounds of little children crying out for help, and his breathing became erratic, bending nearly double over the stone.
Ruby’s tiny little voice screamed, “Hadge!” Her voice sounded miles away. Hadges breath had cleared even more debris from the stone, revealing two perfect handprints cut into the rock. He just knew he had to place his hands within the impressions, but found the task exhausting. His trembling hands inched towards the stone, feeling the cold impression wrap around every digit, as if it had been made just for him. Then the heavy feeling of distress lifted, as sure as if nothing ever really happened.
Straightaway a light emanated from the impressions beneath his hands, extending soothing warmth through his palms. Then the ground began to shake, until the stones separated like a puzzle, opening to an oddly lit space. “Go!” Ruby ordered, pushing without success on the side of his head. Hadge brushed the pest aside, still unsure of the safety of this endeavor, and said, “I don’t know about this.” Ruby reminded him, “The creepers are getting closer.” She was right, he could hear them getting nearer, grunting to acknowledge the fact.
Then Hadge boosted Reybe over his shoulder, nervously entering the oddly lit space. Each descending step the faces were there, guarding the secrets within. Ruby buzzed in his ear, asking, “Do you think the old woman’s down here?” He stiffly replied, “I sure to Yahveh hope not.” They moved deeper down into the strange space, until the outside vanished from sight, and the stone puzzle pieces sealed the exit shut. Hadge shouted, “Wait a minute!” Frantically pounding on the exit, fearing they may be trapped inside, until he’d seen identical handprints on the inside. Hadge started to question, “What is this place?” It reminded him of the Elders stories about funhouses, minus the fun.
The peculiar stone staircase twisted deep into the ground, as the odd faces seemed to have generated even to the walls. Hadge had a gut feeling that something was odd about those faces, as if they were constantly moving within the stone, and watching his every move. “No…” He laughed it off; it was impossible for anything to move once set in stone. Ruby uneasily flitted next to his ear, timidly complaining, “I…I don’t like this place.” He agreed, “I don’t either.” At last the stairs unfolded into a large stone cellar, as a copper glow poorly lit the space. The radiance curiously emerged from the cracks all over the stone floor, as the macabre of faces deviated into something even more frightening. Still the unsettling glow stretched ghostly shadows upwards, like dark specters guarding an ancient secret. Hadge gasped at the first site of the specters, until he realized they were merely harmless shadows. The light jarringly had toyed with ordinary objects, distorting the rustic furniture into something dark and ghastly.
Promptly he noted the thick layer of dust covering all the furnishings, the place had been unoccupied for a long time. The table and two chairs remained set in the midst of a last supper. However the meal could no longer be distinguished between dirt and dust. A ratty old bed still had the eerie convexity of a body warped upon the mattress, as the light and shadows of the covers messed with your mind. Even still the doors on the cupboard barely clung to their hinges, each shelf lined by countless bizarre vials and bottles. The grotesque vials were filled with what looked like eyeballs, and other dead animals parts.
Suddenly a sound shuffled from somewhere in the room, but from where he hadn’t a clue, however feared they may not be alone. Ruby fretfully whispered, “Over here!” The tiny fairy was nearly halfway across the room, her chilling shadow disfigured athwart the floor and wall. She was fluttering nervously before a dark menacing entryway bench. The seat of the bench was made into a chest, with a high-framed back ornately twisted into withered old trees. A glimmer of a mirror was hidden between the trees frame, hidden beneath entwined carvings stretching the length of the object. The carvings started as entangled branches, and ended in a host of random patterns, surely telling a shadowy story within its peculiar timber.
The alarming sound could be heard once more, and it did come from this strange old bench. Hadge moved to take a closer look, discovering it was not made of wood, rather more like a shadow, yet still tangibly real. The shadowy wood reinforced his belief that all the stories were true, “Old lady Egdah really was a witch.” Then he started to fear the witch may be making all the noises, and wasn’t sure if he should proceed.
Ruby excitedly pointed out, “Hadge…here!” She was bobbing above two handprints etched into the shadowy chest, handprints just like in the stone exit. Hadge was quite curious, a trait much more suited for his grubb friend Uwee. “Well.” Ruby restlessly asked, “Are you going to open it?” He took a deep thoughtful breath, answering her question, “Yes...” Then eased his hands gently into place. Ruby impatiently tweeted, “Open it!”
Hadge cautiously opened the strange chest, as something moved just under the lid. His heart instantly began to race, until he realized it was nothing more than loose clippings and photos. The pictures were astounding, clinging in layer after layer beneath the lid. All in various types of snapshots, paintings, sketches, metal photographs, as each appeared to be from a different century in time. He carefully set Reybe’s limp figure on the ratty old rug next to him, wanting a closer look at the photos. Hadge removed a photo from the chest, and then detached another photo, and another, which were mostly males.
Ruby asked, “Who are they?” He breathed, “I don’t know.” Oddly every image revealed a different face, except for the striking resemblance in each of their eyes; mere windows into the soul, and their souls seemed to share a common secret. The eyes were almost heavenly, clearer than the darkest blue midnight. Within that veil of midnight a vast array of stars twinkled, like the clasp of the universe was hidden away, but not forgotten. Hadge was shocked, as he stared at the many faces, each one different, but was almost sure they all had to be the same person. “Maybe.” He thought, “If they could somehow jump through time and space, and be everywhere at once.” He rejected the silly idea, knowing it had to be impossible, besides he mocked, “They
would have to have the ability to change sex also.”
Then he noticed words scribbled on the pictures, the letters spelled out, H-A-D-G-E. There is nothing as strange as reading your own name, over and over. A bitter chill crawled up his spine seeing his name, and all these different people, wondering, “How could this be?” He had to know, “What’s going on here?” Ruby fluttered around his mystified head, beseeching him to answer, “Is everything alright Hadge?” Still overwhelmed, he did not respond, as the bizarre idea surfaced, “I must be a part of whatever is going on.” But the biggest question of them all was, “Why don’t I remember about this Hadge?”
A cursory movement appeared in the mirror, only there for a moment, and gone. What was in the reflection of the mirror was really hard to say, because much of the mirror was laced behind the random carvings. Hadge swiftly searched the reflection, hoping to spot the wayward entity, but instead ferreted out something much more complicated. He couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror, and in fact it was a whole different room. Ruby asked, “What is it?” He looked rather perplexed, unsure of how to answer, “I really don’t know.”
Hadge opened the carvings that set over the mirror, much like opening a cupboard, and took a closer look. The room inside the mirror was oddly marked with writing all over the walls, as any important details was blemished by darkness.
Eerily he could hear the raspy sound of a woman speaking, yet she never came into sight. “Hadge, I’ve searched so long for you.” The voice was familiar, yet the identity was as elusive as the face. The only person it could be is Old lady Egdah, but she’s supposed to be dead, and the years past are beyond her life expectancy. “How could this be?” He whispered. The voice continued to talk, telling her story, “I’ve journeyed to many lands, each place as fruitless as the next. You were either already dead or could not be found, until I came to Elysium. I implored you for your help. However you could not remember me since the first time we met. Was that to be my blessing or a curse? Our reunion was bittersweet as I discovered the Edge of Darkness in the caverns beneath the well. A place your military had been blasting. I charmed the book to mirror whomever it touched, and buried it deep in a pool beneath an old oak. The charm was to help you see what was right before your eyes, as surely as past, present, and future. Then you could see what your world would become; in hopes to stop Elysium on its path of suffering. But heed my warning. The end of days has come with a blast, a spreading evil as black as the plague. I no longer seek your help, but you may need mine.”
Hadge was in utter confusion, wondering, “What the heck is she talking about?” Better yet, “What’s really gong on?” But the charm would explain how Carrissa knew about the mushrooms.
Thereupon he noticed an odd wooden doll positioned on the floor of the strange room, and heard chanting words he couldn’t define. He was quite puzzled, “What is the old crone really up to?” Without warning memories not his own filled his head once more, he was alone, timidly calling out to his mother, “Mom?” Hearing the strange chanting painfully bounce throughout his skull, and his thoughts continued to scatter like dust. Unexpectedly he could see a whatnot of dust in the palm of his hand, having no idea what it meant, or whose memory is had to be.
Then just as sudden he was himself again, and knew that damn book beneath the cemetery would have been found no matter what the consequences, it was inevitable. Gravely he had to be the grubb to discover it. He argued the notion, “No that wasn’t me!” He hissed, “It was the dead man on Ennead Mountain.” His thoughts had moved full circle by now, as he thought about the charm on the book, realizing it only served to confound the situation, because it had no effect on him at all. Still the chanting went on and on.
Hadge grabbed his head, shrieking, “Get out of my head witch!” Ruby had the look of concern, asking, “Hadge…Are you alright?” He slammed the carved doors shut, squealing, “Yesss…” Instantly the old woman’s voice dissipated, and lucid thought returned, but there was only one question he wanted answered, “Could I really be the Hadge in all those pictures?” Ruby landed on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, however he couldn’t feel her tiny hand.
His attention was drawn back to the photos, as the fuss had sent several pictures to the bottom of the chest, and strangely the base had mimicked the photos. “What is this?” He found the witch’s chest relatively mysterious, looking deeper into the secrets she keeps. Reaching for the photos at the bottom, and oddly the base now had a flesh tone. Ruby flew close, laughing, “It looks like a hairy arm.” Hadge ignored her comment, promptly feeling the bottom, as fabric eased under his fingertips. He was quite sure the chest was meant to hide all the witch’s secrets, and he assumed Reybe would be safe here, at least if no one can see him.
Ruby whispered in his ear, “We should go back now.” He despondently agreed, “Yeah.” Sure the others may begin to worry. Then turned to Reybe at his side, carefully picking his friend up, and placed him in the bizarre chest. He watched the inside instantly turn black; satisfied he would be safe now. He brushed Reybe’s backside, solemnly uttering, “I will miss you.” Saying a little prayer, “May Yahveh always be with you.”
Then he glanced one last time at the pictures hanging on the lid, still finding the Hadge thing hard to believe, as he shoved a handful of the pictures into his backpack, declaring, “For later reference.” He at last closed the lid of the chest. Then he and Ruby exited the spectral chamber, watching the orange glow fade away underneath the linking stone puzzle pieces, and the secret space sealed shut yet again.
Soon Hadge was back down in the well. The deafening trickle of water could be heard all around him, but every so often an undertone of moans would join the sounds, like a choir of the dead. He stopped for a moment to listen; sure it wasn’t just his imagination, “No.” He thought, “I really do hear the sounds.” While Ruby playfully flounced around him humming a sweet tune. He glanced from one end of the cave to the other; asking, “What is that?” Oddly she stopped in mid air, tilting her head waywardly, looking a bit confused, “What?” She inquired, “The water?” He clarified, “No.” Flatly stating, “The moans.” Giving her an example, “Like the dead from Harbinger.” Her tiny face went blank, “Oh.” She seemed rather unresponsive, until she flittered away, avoiding the topic. “Ruby!” Hadge called after her, but she was gone.
Hadge treaded through the water in the bottom of the well, entering a hole that had collapsed to one side of the wall. The watery hole led to a rocky crawl space, which unevenly moved through the small cavern. Gradually the descent of the passageway increased in size, as well as the rush of water, until he was able to walk upright. Finally the cavern ended at another hemispherical opening in the floor.
He looked down through the large crescent shaped opening, beyond the rushing waterfall, and onto the fairy hamlet. Pondering quite deeply, “One would imagine this place of being rather safe, but somehow he had his doubts that anyplace was safe in this dark world, and he could sense that even the fairies had their secrets.” His ears perked to the strange undertone of moans, intermixed with a new founded sound, however faint the sound may have been; the sound of a breathing cave was creepy. He cupped his hand to one ear, and tried to distinguish what was truly out there, but it was no use.
Ruby had returned unnoticed, as she humorously placed a hand to her ear too, and stared at Hadge. He growled, “What are you doing?” She half giggled, saying, “Some believe the Mountains are alive.” Hadge narrowed his eyes at the mischievous fairy, at odds with the remark, “Don’t be silly.” He rumbled as a matter of fact, “Mountains don’t move.” Then he left Ruby behind, and climbed down a vine into the fairy hamlet, however his doubting mind recalled all the bizarre things in this world, all of which had began since the opening of that damnable book. His mind probed all the possibilities, from swarm to hellhounds, wondering, “What other monsters has the Devil created?” He was quite sure the answer might be a frightening one.
The fairies bliss
ful songs filled the city, as everyone distractedly laughed and danced. Hadge was glad to see everyone happy, as smiles became infectious, and the grief over the loss of Reybe seemed to lessen. However he knew it would never truly fade entirely away. Quietly he slipped to a faraway corner, removing the book from his backpack. Hadge was certain this book had the power to end the cruelty in this pitiful world, as he flipped it over and over in his hands, thinking, “It looks like a plain old book.” Suddenly something whispered, or maybe it was just a thought in his head, calling his name, “Hadge.” His name meant something, carrying the fate of mankind on his shoulders; all he had to do is read the book.
Hadge was literally beholden by the book, its leather binding alive to the touch, softly breathing in and out. He had to know, “What is so important about this book?” He rested it on his lap, as he gently rubbed its scarred flesh, almost afraid of what might be inside. Each raised scar and abrasion terrifyingly reminded him of the tomb, and how the starved animals were drawn to its warm outer flesh, sure the mysterious book had somehow killed them. Then he stopped to consider a much bigger mind grabber, “Why hadn’t it killed me?” He reflected on the main important factor, “I touched it many times.”
Ruby landed on his shoulder, wistfully watching him attempt to open the book.
Hadge didn’t pay any mind to the tiny fairy, as he apprehensively opened the cover of the book, and its emanating blue light swiftly peeked from its fiery pages. Then a confusing mix of emotions and memories began to flood his psyche, and he urgently needed it to end. At once his hands released the book into his lap, as he gasped, and a semblance of normalcy returned to his head. However the book continued to shuffle randomly through its bright blue pages, as it dislodged a host of noises. Faint noises very much like gibberish, as sure as the sound of an in-depth conversation.
Right away he glanced over at Ruby asking, “What did you say?” She seriously gave him an odd look, as if he were nuts, and flatly retorted, “Nothing.” Then she flew away, joining the merriment with all the others. Hadge stared after her several long minutes, having the suspicion he may have lost his mind, because no one else seemed to hear all the things that he did.
The book weighed heavy in his mind, as the pages mysteriously flipped by itself to the beginning. “What the…” He burst with surprise, as his hands sharply recoiled even further into the air, utterly bemused by this strange book.
Hadge looked down at the page that was left open to him, as if the book was trying to express that it’s always good to start at the beginning. The black lettering filtered across the thin blue flames, waiting just for him to read. He tried to focus on the faultless black words skipping athwart each glowing page, as he fixedly stared at those written letters, and waited for just the right words to come to mind, all in an order he could understand. But still the words eluded him.
Oddly reading was more difficult than he remembered. Hadge strived even harder to read the words, ordering himself, “Focus!” He knew the words were on the tip of his tongue, making a peculiar noise in the effort to translate the letters, “Ah…a….” He took a breath, “Ah….ahhh…” The letters blurred across the page, as his shoulders slumped, and his eyes vacantly rolled up towards the vines next to the waterfall. He stared at the leaves moving back and forth, but it was as if he didn’t see, and could only think one thing, “Its no use.” He discouragingly acknowledged, “I can’t read.”
The words might as well have been a whole different language, because he would have never known the difference. Hadge shook his head remembering he could read once, in his nightmare, he read the headstones, and city signs. But sadly the Hadge from the past wasn’t reading now. He despondently breathed, “I’m the one who’s reading...”
Anger was building up inside of him, because he’d risked everything for a book he can’t even read, and indignantly spat, “Stupid!” Wanting nothing more than to throw the book as far as he could, in hopes to never see it again. Yet his conscience swayed him otherwise, so he disgustedly shoved the book into his backpack. Then threw his backpack halfway across the room.
Hadge was gravely convinced that no one could ever read that damnable book, feebly mumbling, “We are all doomed….”
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