The Antique

Home > Other > The Antique > Page 37
The Antique Page 37

by Peter Fang


  Gretchen knew that due to how much time had passed, the retold story could not be trusted; the names and events in the story could all be different than the truth. But now she believed that the antique in the garage was related to the story. If what she sensed in the basement was real, then the spirit inside was still alive.

  She recalled the story of how Ansen and Maria found the sewing machine from an old antique shop owner in Chinatown. The owner must have been keeping the demon alive. But now he was dead, so the spirit had to find another caretaker.

  Gretchen felt her stomach dropped. Ansen and Maria are in grave danger.

  Part IV

  Summon of the Sentient

  Some skills were grown, not learned

  27

  Awakening

  Maria woke up in a strange place; she saw herself in a white gown and floating down a long, ancient hallway surrounded by suffering souls. She could only see their faces from her peripheral vision; when she looked at them directly, the faces faded away. However, she felt every fiber of their pain as she passed each faceless figure, and she could read their thoughts. They all had different stories, each unique and sad, full of tragedies, but they were all connected to her. She somehow knew their lives, and their sufferings, because they had all died at the same hands.

  Some of them were innocent souls, but most of them were the scums of the society. They were wearing clothes that were from different time periods. As she walked down the hall, it became clear that she was going backwards in time. She was unsure as to when they appeared, but she noticed that there were different faceless servants; their profiles changed as she floated down the hall. For a long time, she only saw human forms of all shapes and sizes, but soon the spirits took on animal forms. Still later, a tall, slender body at least seven feet tall appeared, with jittery arms and feet; then later it became a little boy. Maria felt herself change as well: from an insect life-form to a witch, then to a bird, and finally, a spirit. She ascended into the air. The creatures beneath her became smaller and smaller until they dissolved into the background. She felt an abrupt jolt, and then she fell back down to the earth; faster and faster, she was gaining speed, and then she woke up, again.

  For a while, she couldn’t be sure whether she was still in her dream or if she had returned to reality. As her thoughts cleared, she heard Ansen's snoring. It sounded louder than before, but then she realized it was him faintly talking. She leaned over to push him, but then she realized something was different––Ansen was not there. First, she thought she was still dreaming, yet, she could still hear the chattering. It sounded almost like a dialogue that Ansen was having. It was with a girl, and then it was with a guy. The conversation was skipping around, and they were talking over each other. The chattering was muffled, like listening to a conversation through a wall. None of it made sense to her. She looked at the clock and it was 3:03 a.m. How could Ansen have invited someone downstairs and not let her know? She quickly put on her pajamas and walked downstairs. The lights were off? There was no one there. She then spotted Ansen, sleeping on the couch—he was not talking to anyone. Talking in his sleep? Maria realized that perhaps Ansen was just making noises in his sleep. But no, it felt different. She could hear Ansen snoring and talking at the same time. Something’s not right––multiple voices going at once mixed in with Ansen’s. The sounds were familiar, like listening to your friends talking to you, and she realized she was listening to everyone’s thoughts in her apartment complex. She turned and saw Joey standing on the top of the stairs, wagging his tail. She suddenly felt hungry, as was Joey’s mind telling her. The different voices continued to come into her head in fragments. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she didn’t know why she was crying. Minutes later, she felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. She ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. More voices and emotions assaulted her mind, and she couldn’t bear it anymore. She pressed her hands against her temples and sat on the toilet with her head between her legs. Slowly, the voices and the emotions subsided, but a clicking sound drummed in her mind like a sonnet; it revealed itself as an ancient language that was awakening.

  As her cognitive ability grew, white spots appeared in her vision: they started small and dispersed, but they soon multiplied like cancerous cells. The change continued until a white haze ate her entire view. The clicking sound grew louder and louder until she understood what the tapping meant. It was like a densely compressed Morse code: each click carried multiple dimensions of information, and the message shaped the white dots in her mind until animated shapes formed in her mind. Something was trying to give her instructions, and it was coming from the antique downstairs. The instructions were a demand––like a strict mother scolding her child into obedience. She felt no desire to fight; she just needed to do whatever it told her to do.

  Hours passed, and Maria finally got out of the bathroom and turned on the light. The voices inside the building were still pouring in through the floor beneath and from the walls around her, but she was able to force them out of her mind. She looked herself in the mirror next to the nightstand and noticed there was blood oozing out of her nose. She saw dark, inch-long nails extending out of her nostrils. Maria panicked but quickly realized it was just part of her now, like a new scar across her face––raw, but every bit of herself. The thing urged her to listen to Ansen's dreams, so she sat next to him on the sofa and listened to him all night.

  28

  Joey’s Revenge

  “Fear-Fur'' was nearby. He felt her quiet footsteps gingerly crossing the next-door neighbor's back yard and entered his territory.

  Joey woke up to a strange heightened sense of awareness. He looked around and could see colors that he had never experienced before. Sounds from the downstairs apartment could be heard more acutely––the old man that always smiled at him at the elevator was coughing in his bed and reading his newspaper. There was a spectrum of odors and fragrances floating in the air, so defined that he could pick out where it was coming from, and someone was cooking curry a few doors down. The old lady down the hall was burning incense again, her lips mumbling a repetitive chant. He could even sense the emotions of those people, and even their diseases, from just sniffing the air––this knowledge permeated the very air.

  There was one peculiar smell, however––yes, it was a thread of feline scent coming from outside that was familiar, and no doubt was from “Fear-Fur.” Her smell was always faintly around, but it was so much stronger now. Joey stood up and saw Maria and Ansen fall asleep in their bed. He crept to the door, used his paw to crack a small opening to the bedroom, and squeezed himself through. The noise woke up Maria. Joey sensed Maria’s stare, so he turned and looked at her with a mischievous wag of his tail. He felt an instant connection with her. Joey whimpered, tilted his head, and wagged his tail more urgently. The stream of her consciousness melted with his and he could hear her mind-whispers––go get your revenge. Joey turned and ran downstairs.

  He walked up to the large sliding glass door to the patio and faced the dreaded lever lock. Suddenly, with Maria’s psychic guidance, it just made sense to him how the lock worked. He tipped his nose against the lock and pushed it open. He then stood up on his hind legs and used his weight to push against the door handle. The door didn’t move at first, but slowly, it gained momentum until it slid open. Guided by the strong smell, he had never felt so determined in his life. He poked his head out and saw the “Fear-Fur” out in the yard, and she was staring back at Joey with those cold, steely blue eyes.

  There were no loud barks from Joey this time, and in a brief second, the cat sensed something was very different. She was staring at an old enemy with an intent to kill. She growled like an angry child and arched her back, raising her fur like a porcupine’s quills. That big lump of a dumb, slow dog now stoked fear.

  Joey bolted out into the yard and lunged at the cat. The cat ran in the opposite direction towards the wall. She heard Joey’s growl and his footsteps getting c
loser. She leaped into the air and barely caught the wall’s edge. Struggling to hold on to her grip, she kicked her hind legs against the wall to try to push herself up. She heard Joey’s growl near the wall, and then she felt a tug, followed by a searing pain that shot up through the tip of her tail.

  Joey followed the cat and jumped as she leaped towards the wall. His jaws clamped down and caught the cat’s tail, but he only got a mouthful of her hair.

  The cat hissed but managed to pull herself up onto the wall and started to run along the top ledge. She catapulted over a wooden stump, then slowed down near the end of the wall and stared down at Joey, her piercing eyes a mix of primordial fear and anger. In normal circumstances, she would have sat there at the top of the wall and taunted him. She had even urinated one time from the top of the wall, hoping to hit him. But this time, something was different. She jumped over the wall and used the apartment ledges to make her way down to the street.

  Joey whimpered and started to run back and forth, searching for ways to get out. Then he heard a whisper from Maria again: door. Joey ran back into the apartment and saw Maria standing next to the front door, smiling at him. Joey jumped up and licked her. Maria slid the deadbolt and Joey pushed down the front door handle with his paws to open the lock. Go! she urged. Joey leaped out of the front door and scampered down the stairs.

  Joey ran past apartment 2C with barely a blip of fear in his mind. He reached the first floor and ran past several tenants getting into their apartments. He then made a dead stop right outside the apartment building to take stock of the cat’s scent. It was almost dark, and the streetlights had just turned on. Joey noticed the rainbow hue coming down from the streetlights and the thousands of familiar and unfamiliar scents rushing into his brain. It was a thrilling feeling, and his mind was going into overdrive. He frantically focused and quickly honed in on that familiar scent; he looked to his left and saw the cat leisurely walking down the street towards him, her eyes wandering around the nearby stores.

  Joey growled and ran after the cat.

  The cat heard the incoming threat, looked up, and was surprised to see Joey. There was a moment of panic and hesitation as she tried to decide which way to run. She saw a nearby truck and scuttled underneath just in time.

  Joey approached the truck in quick sprints, then made several circles around the perimeter and started to crawl underneath the truck. Space was extremely tight; his back scraped against the truck’s underbelly, greasy oil smearing across the top of his head, but he didn’t care.

  The cat hissed at him and gave Joey several quick strikes with her claws.

  Joey moved forward and hit a low-hanging gearbox but forced himself through; his back joints popped as his frame squeezed under the metal casing.

  Finally, the cat ran out into the street and toward oncoming traffic. A red sedan made a screeching halt at the sight of the cat, but it was a little too late, and the right front tire ran over the tip of her tail. She hissed, leaped up and did a 360 but landed on all fours, then bolted towards an alley.

  Joey finally pulled himself out from under the truck, vaulted over the red sedan, and followed her into the dark alley.

  Thirty feet away, Riker’s dog Kingpin was in his van and saw the whole thing. He gave a single bark, and two other dogs inside the van stood up instantly. Kingpin, being the smartest in the group, had also learned how to open the van door long ago. The urge to hunt and kill was too strong, regardless of the punishment he would receive later on. He pushed aside the other two dogs and moved to the back of the van, then used his large jaws to twist on the lock handle. The door lock groaned under the applied force. The pack started to scratch the door panel with their paws, and the back doors swung open under their combined weight. Kingpin growled at them and hopped out of the van first, but the two other dogs followed him closely behind.

  Joey ran into the alley, his eyes alert and scanning for the cat. It was dark, except for a buzzing fire exit light casting a shadow from the nearby garbage dump. He was delighted to learn that he didn’t have a problem seeing in the dark somehow. The stuffy air was filled with the putrid scent of rotting food, urine and, feces, but he still picked up the cat’s scent. He looked around and noticed that the alley ended in a wall. He must have walked past the outside street hundreds of time, but he didn’t remember ever coming into this particular dead end. He followed the scent and saw two large trash bins nearby. Finally, he found the cat licking her wounds on top of the container near the far end. Joey approached slowly, then waited below.

  The cat stopped her licking in mid-stroke and slowly leveled her eyes toward the alley entrance.

  Joey also felt the new visitors had arrived. He turned around and saw three large shadows blocking the alley’s entrance. Even in the dark, Joey felt their stares, and the smell of adrenaline in the air. Fear was surging inside of Joey, but seconds later, it dissipated. His mind was clear, and he knew what he would do to punish all of them.

  Kingpin didn’t move, but the two other dogs charged at Joey. He waited until the first dog jumped towards him with its massive maw wide open, baring his rows of ivory white canine fangs. He dodged the bite at the last second and got hold of the dog’s collar with his teeth, swinging the large dog towards the trash bin with his weight. The timing was impeccable, so the entire momentum was deflected like a Te-Waza move executed by a Judo master.

  The large dog flew in a circle and hit the trash bin’s sharp edge with its full 120-pound weight and broke his back. His limp body dropped to the ground with a whimper. He attempted to get back up, but the paralyzing pain pinned him to the ground.

  The second dog went after Joey. Joey took off and ran towards the back of the alley against the brick wall. But just before his nose touched the wall, he ducked down and absorbed the impact with the side of his body.

  The large dog behind him was not able to stop in time and slammed his head into the wall. He doubled over in pain.

  Joey locked his jaws on to the large dog’s underbelly and shook violently.

  The large dog tried to bite back, but Joey was just out of reach.

  Joey spun with the dog in circles as he continued to shake his jaws. Soon warm blood dripped from his mouth. He gave several good yanks and pulled out the large dog’s intestines.

  The large dog yelped and retreated, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  Joey looked up and saw Kingpin still guarding the throat of the alley. Kingpin’s large frame was bigger than he had remembered. He decided to make the first move and approached Kingpin. Joey kept his footsteps casual as if taking a stroll.

  Kingpin’s eyes focused on Joey as he approached. He could feel his muscles twitching and his blood boiling inside. Drool dripped from his jaws. It reminded him of the exciting dogfighting scenes in his prime. Part of him was surprised to see Joey taking out two of his pack mates in a matter of seconds, but his years of experience in dogfights had removed fear from his blood. Injuries were typical, and death was part of life. His instinct was always to let his opponent make their move first; then, he would react and crush his opponent. His eyes trained on Joey’s jugular, and his muscles were tightening up for the attack.

  Joey inched closer and closer towards Kingpin and didn’t stop. As he got near, he could read Kingpin’s thoughts and felt everything in his mind. Joey got about five feet away from Kingpin and stopped. He turned sideways and urinated in Kingpin’s direction.

  Kingpin was furious—he had never had anyone disrespect him, not even Riker. Kingpin bolted and lunged at Joey. He did not move and let Kingpin bite down on his neck. Kingpin picked up Joey and shook him like a rag doll. Seconds later, Kingpin felt a sharp pain at the roof of his jaw. Kingpin tried to let go of Joey, but he felt the tug of pain shooting through his body like a lightning bolt. It was like being hooked by something really sharp inside his mouth, and the more he struggled, the quicker the acute pain pierced through his throat. The intensity spread beyond his throat, through his neck, and into his spine
. Kingpin convulsed and limped backward in agony. Moments later, he collapsed to the ground and rolled in spasms.

  Joey stood up next to Kingpin. A long, dark, spider-like tentacle extended from Joey’s mouth, with spinal fluid dripping from the tip. He went over to Kingpin and sucked his spinal fluid clean.

  Nearby from the second floor, an old man looked out his window and yelled, “Shut up, damn dog!”

  Joey stared at the old man and felt his anger, but he couldn’t care less about the old man. He looked back at the “Fear-Fur,” now pacing back and forth, trying to find another way out. Joey walked gingerly towards the cat, ignoring the hissing and crying from the Maine Coon.

  29

  The Monk’s Hand

  Gretchen didn’t know if she dared to do it, but the last thing she wanted was a devil-infested apartment. She had been the landlord of this apartment until her husband died in a car accident. The insurance was large enough that she decided to retire from her day job. Being retired allowed her to pursue her passion for antiques while being nosy around the apartment. She felt it was her right to know about everything. Ever since that antique landed in the garage, she had an unmistakable ominous feeling. On many things, she trusted her sixth sense; this sense told her that something was off with that antique. She was an avid devotee of feng shui and a student of the Dao. Several years ago, she met a temple-goer who introduced her to the way of Dao. People in the apartment were aware of Gretchen’s peculiar hobby, and most people (including Ansen and Maria) kept their distance.

 

‹ Prev