by J Niessen
presence beside me.
I turn, coming face to face with an orange-glowing German shepherd.
Its tail is slightly raised and wagging; its eyes wide with eager excitement.
The pliable key, gripped in my palm, droops from out of my hand and shapes into a silver chain.
The gold dogtag on the end of it is engraved with etchings that translate to “Rufus.”
I get the sense this mythical being yearns to open its mouth in its maintained silence.
I place the chain around my neck, then stand up and walk to the window.
My eyes are open to the world around me. The sky gleams pink. The clouds are made of crystal-blue snowflakes. Each particle has its own unique pattern.
Suddenly I find myself inside the floating chill.
Millions of tiny, icy flakes kiss my face, chill my nose, and breeze past me.
Staring out at the sun, I view black-holes on its ember surface.
Insight accompanies this view. These dark spirals keep the solar power from intensifying.
Without those black holes the universe would incinerate.
At my leg is a nudge, and Rufus with an earnest stare.
“What is it?” I ask. Having my attention he hurries to the back bathroom of my apartment.
As I’m walking through the hallway I hear the clicking of toenails on porcelain.
Turning the corner I find him standing in the bathtub trying to turn the faucet handle.
Bewildered, I offer help. He leaps out and waits patiently to watch me assist.
Raising his two front paws on the tub’s edge he peers in as the water fills.
The basin is filled halfway when he gives me a hopeful stare, and then leaps in.
His radiant body disappears beyond the crystal clear surface.
Fear and concern strike. Hastily I test the surface. It’s warm like water. But when I bring my hand back out my skin is dry. Reluctantly I climb over the edge, my feet dangling, then let go.
I gently drop into a narrow passageway. Above are the ripples of water.
It occurs to me that I can manipulate gravity, and float several inches from the ground.
Rufus illuminates the dark concrete corridor. There’s little room to travel between partitions.
Beyond my guide’s heavenly glow the barriers disappear into pitch darkness.
We arrive at a circular room with a fountain in the middle.
There is a stream of water which falls from the black emptiness above.
The water pours into the center of a small, yet bottomless glowing pool.
Rufus runs to the concrete edge, with his front paws leaps onto it, and laps the contents.
Shock strikes me as he turns, then says in a wise voice “You should drink from the fountain.”
Confused, I ask, “Why didn’t you speak before?”
“I have to accomplish goals in order to advance my bodily state.
“I got you this far, so I have been rewarded with speech.
“Once we get to the end of the next level together I’ll be able to harness greater energy.”
Eager to continue our progress I ask, “So are we going into the water again?”
With a somber look Rufus answers, “No. We have to go there.”
His attention turns to the darkness above the flow of water.
Recalling his advice I float over to the fountain, cup my hands together and slurp in a mouthful. It has a nourishing taste, like milk.
“This is a place of solitude,” he continues.
“We should respite before we travel farther down.
“When you sleep your body builds energy, accumulating it from the environment. Through honed relaxation you can harness a greater amount.
“If everyone in your vicinity is sleeping then you won’t gather as much power as if you were to sleep before they do.
“The initial rest is the most important because that’s when you first link in with the channel of energy.
“This water draws sleep energy. Settle down and close your eyes. Focus on the tricking sounds. When you can no longer hear the drips then you are able to rejuvenate.”
“How were you able to use the water as a portal?” I ask after sitting at the fountain.
“I prayed a blessing over it. You have the same ability, Aaron. Ask God to endow liquid with a doorway.
“We should rest now.”
Within minutes all is silent.
My eyes are closed and I envision that I’m a small body of water.
Throughout my composition are floating stars.
I awake suddenly fully aware.
Sentel (my left arm) sparkles like golden crystal sands.
Focusing on the water in the pool, its surface hardens.
The stream expands with solidified rungs, forming a ladder that glitters also.
The incline leads to a platform, positioned hundreds of feet above us.
Rufus’ spirit returns to the golden dog tag kept around my neck, with the silver chain.
Sentel serves as a timer.
The amount of glowing sand glimmering on my prosthetic gradually diminishes to indicate my time limit.
The feeling of weightlessness is gone.
With each rung I climb gravity’s pull increases.
At least 20 stories up, and I’m only halfway to the platform.
I don’t know how I’m going to continue.
I muster every bit of energy I have to reach the last rung.
The moment Sentel’s fingers wrap around the last shimmering bar I feel the resistance lift.
I’m pulled upward. Reality shifts.
I’m dangling with feet as heavy as concrete.
Now I’m only holding on with my right hand, and it’s slipping.
A lower rung forms and I grab hold with (Sentel) my left hand.
The second one up from the newly appeared rung disappears. This process continues.
The closer I get to the land below, the brighter the blue sky and sun become.
New details appear on the platform below. Hundreds of homes are in development.
Roughly 300 two-story residences make up the quant, 1950’s style community.
I keep expecting to see some form of life, other than the green lawns full of lush grass.
The trees that grow here are mighty and tall in stature.
The last of the sand fades from Sentel’s fingertips and I drop to the paved road.
Everything is eerily quiet in this neighborhood.
Pale, expressionless faces appear in the upper level windows of the reproduction houses.
Several small, disk-shaped aircraft fly past me.
I quickly swat at one…sending it crashing to the ground.
I hurry over and force the top lid open.
There’s a small grey creature, nearly featureless, unclothed and unconscious in the mini cockpit.
014: Through Sheol
Electronic sounds radiate from the small UFO’s cockpit while control-panel indicators flash.
There’s a switch on the bottom of the disk. Flipping it, the ship’s power shuts down.
I place the shuttle on the ground after closing it back up with the creature still inside.
Disregarding its limited air supply, I focus on more pressing matters.
The pale faces staring out the second story windows have multiplied.
I consider calling on Rufus, who’s returned to the dog tag, and that’s when I hear from Sentel.
I haven’t heard from my lesser-half since back at the apartment.
The whisper inside my head is comforting.
“Aaron. We need to figure out the goal of this area. We can do this together. Let Rufus save his energy for when we need it.”
“That makes sense. Guess it’s just the two of us,” I respond.
“Check the mailboxes,” Sentel hints.
Each postal box is at the front of the home’s lawn, propped on a wooden post by the sidewalk.
> The first one I open has a wooden clothespin inside it.
“Let’s go to the back yard,” Sentel whispers. “It’s an important clue we need to follow.”
Before taking Sentel’s advice I check the neighbor’s mailbox. It’s empty, but there is a postal package on the porch. I hurry up the driveway and open the delivery box there at the doorstep. In it is a small olive-colored duffle bag. It contains a pen and a blank pad of paper, a rubber ball, a Frisbee, and lastly a loaded revolver.
“Hand me the weapon,” Sentel requests.
Obliging, the firearm melts into my off-colored left hand.
My prosthetic left arm expands and forms into a complicated, lightweight piece of machinery.
Checking several other mailboxes, I see that they’re all empty.
I hurry to the back yard of the first house where there’s an old tree planted.
There’s also an empty clothesline, and a picnic table.
On the side of the house is a cellar door that’s been left wide open.
The aroma of fresh baked apple pies fragrance the air while plates clatter from below.
A woman steps out from the darkness, greets me with a smile, and invites me down.
The basement is bleak. The only illumination within is what comes from the sun’s light.
Down inside a family is sitting at a long wooden dinner table, eating.
There are six adults: four men and two women, and four young girls.
A younger boy, around age six, walks in staring bitterly at me.
His focus turns from me onto the adults.
“That’s the one!” the boy seems to wantingly say.
I don’t know what his allegations may be, other than that I took the package, so I decide to leave.
I’m walking down the street when the four men approach, and circle around me.
I was wondering when I’d have a chance to test my prosthetic upgrade.
Sentel instructs me on how to use it.
I slam the lower end of the metal equipment against the street surface.
A blue pulse blasts along the pavement--launching the men, concussed, backward into the air.
A thunderous rumble sounds in the distance. My heart sinks seeing dark heavy