(iii) A woman in both worlds
The old woman had found a garden with a comfortable looking chair and had been resting there for a while, enjoying the sunshine. On a nearby bush birds had been caught in mid-song, like a taxidermist’s display. She found them terribly sad and she wished she could free them. All she could do was hope that their other selves had not been affected and were alive and healthy. In the other world, where time continued as normal, she was aware that dawn was breaking. If she concentrated hard enough, she could push her feet through to it and wet them with its dew. The effort was arduous, however, so she gave up. She settled back down in her chair, felt the sun drying the dew from her skin, and dozed.
Anna Maybe sat on a garden wall and caught her breath. She was a few streets from home. Mr Pandemonium and his bizarre friend were nowhere to be seen. Looking around, she saw she was outside the house of a childhood friend. Comforted by this, she went to the side gate that she’d climbed over so many times as a child, felt around for the bolt, and went through to the garden. It was just as she remembered it - the scruffy bushes they used to hide in, the broken fence next door’s dog would watch them through, whining to come and play - but, inevitably, it all seemed so much smaller. An elderly woman had been caught sleeping on a garden chair. Anna wondered if she was stuck in the middle of a dream – something wonderful, she hoped, rather than a never-ending nightmare. She sat on the grass, not wanting to touch another time-frozen body, and wondered where on Earth Mr Pandemonium and the remarkable Sadie had materialized from.
She looked up and felt her heart flutter, for the old woman was awake and staring at her.
(iv) Sadie sates her pain
Mr Pandemonium squatted and watched the coals he’d taken from his pocket burst into flame again. The fires spat awhile, as if fat had been thrown onto them, before regaining their composure. He motioned for Sadie to join him. As he glanced at her he caught sight of a glint of metal in her hand. It was a cut throat razor, antique by the look of the handle but as sharp and keen as new.
‘Don’t do that,’ he said, even though there was no point. Sadie’s face was set in despair, her hundred faces all weeping in miniature. She cut her arm, a long, deliberate line that slowly linked elbow to wrist. Blood squeezed its way out of the wound and ran down her arm like tears. She cut twice more, parallel red lines to the first. Only then did she stop - sated, high on the elation that always filled her after cutting, before the come-down of guilt and shame. She sat on the kerb and gazed at the flames.
‘Where is she?’ Her voice was soft, dreamy.
Mr Pandemonium sighed. ‘Close. She is never far away from us.’
They sat in silence, the only sound the tap-tap-tap of blood dripping from Sadie’s arm onto the ground.
(v) Anna discovers Hope
Time is a component, a cog in the universe’s relentless machine. Night follows day follows night and the seasons fall into place behind one another. It has never changed and never will. The orderly measurement of time is a man-made thing - the seconds, minutes and hours of each day have been constructed to make us feel safe. We use time, enjoy the precision and predictability of it, and try to forget that we are also slaves to it.
Time had betrayed Anna. She was imprisoned in a moment of it. Was there another Anna Maybe in the real world, oblivious to her trapped self? Anna was not conscious of another state of being, or anything else from the other world. Now that she knew she was awake, she was aware that everything that was happening could be her own invention, a psychosis, or it could be real, a slip in time. Perhaps these things happened, but no one else knew about it, or it was kept secret to keep the rest of the world sane. Months, years, decades either back or forth might have passed in real time, and if she ever found her way back, where and who would she be? Mr Pandemonium may well have constructed this place, despite his denial of it. Whatever, he intended taking advantage of the situation. If he and Sadie wanted so much to torment her, she was unlikely to be able to stop them. Even if she decided she wanted to.
But for now her concern was the stranger. She had not moved and had continued staring at Anna from her chair. The woman saw that Anna was afraid. She spoke softly but firmly, pausing slightly between words as if speaking were a supreme effort.
‘Do not run from me, Anna. I am your ally.’
Anna said nothing, not knowing whether to trust her.
‘I am Hope, your desire to live.’
Still unconvinced, Anna stayed seated but tense, ready to move if necessary.
The woman caught her breath. It was not just the tiredness of old age; she was sick, fragile.
‘You need to get out of this place. There are no rules here. It’s dead time, nothing here is natural or healthy. Mr Pandemonium will put an end to you when he finds you.’
Anna ventured a question. ‘Is Mr Pandemonium part of me?’
‘I don’t need to answer that question. You already know.’
‘Why am I here?’
The woman opened her mouth to respond but her answer was drowned out.
‘You have removed yourself from the world.’
‘You are exploring your insanity.’
‘You are here because you want to be.’
‘You are here because you deserve to be.’
‘You have lost control.’
A hundred answers were given in unison. Sadie’s faces were in agreement. She had entered the garden without a sound and was right behind Anna. Next to her stood Mr Pandemonium, hands clasped in front of him. The side gate swung back and forth like a pendulum, faster and faster until it hit the side of the house with such force that it splintered into pieces. Mr Pandemonium looked past Anna to the woman. He recognised her, judging by the disdain on his face. It was the first real expression Anna had seen him make.
‘Who are you?‘ she asked.
This time he gave a more straightforward answer. ‘I am the Blue that colours everything you see. I am the razor that cuts you, the disgust you feel when you look in the mirror, the choking sadness that consumes you at night.’
He crouched slightly and opened his mouth. His tongue shot out, crossing the distance between him and Hope and coiled itself around her neck. He drew his tongue back into his mouth, reeling the struggling old woman in like a fish. She found a little strength and hit at the choking bond, tore at it, but it was not enough to stop him. When she was close, he opened his mouth wider, absurdly wide, lunged forward and was on her. He bit down and tore off a chunk of her head and face, spitting the pieces out onto the ground as if they were poisonous. Amongst the hair and bone lay the top quarter of Hope’s face, her left eye still staring up at the sky. Mr Pandemonium loosened his tongue and let her body slip to the ground. It was over very quickly.
He turned on Anna then, his fury now undisguised. His face was splattered with blood, a red and white mask like a badly made-up clown. Anna was the cornered mouse looking up at the cat, the fly in the spiderweb, the gazelle separated from the herd with the lioness bearing down.
‘All Hope is gone! This is why you’re here,’ he said. ‘This is the purgatory you desire. You can suffer as much as you think you deserve before you die. You seek annihilation; you shall receive it.’
Sadie held her as Mr Pandemonium broke down the garden fence and built a cross. With Sadie’s fingers keeping her eyelids open, Anna was forced to watch. Mr Pandemonium worked methodically, without haste, his jacket neatly draped on the garden chair, shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow. When it was done, he wrenched Anna from Sadie’s grip. She was reluctant to let her prisoner go - the feeling of Anna’s struggling body had been immensely pleasurable. Her faces had cooed at this rare, warm friction, the closest thing to intimacy they had experienced, but now they gasped like a circus audience, all oohs and ahhs in anticipation of the imminent drama. Anna fought, but Mr Pandemonium’s grip was unrelenting. When she bit at his arms, he did not flinch. He threw her up against the cross and held her at its centre while Sadie scuttled
around, tying Anna to it.
‘Stop struggling,’ he said. ‘This is what you want. It’s what you’ve always wanted; your own total destruction. You’ve sought it all your life.’
‘You keep asking who we are,’ said Sadie. ‘Mr Pandemonium and myself are as real as anyone you have ever met. We’ve been like bastard siblings hiding in the shadows - your shadows - too monstrous, too shameful to be seen. Until now. We are your pain, your fear, your self loathing. And now,’ she said gently, ‘we are going to be your apocalypse.’
The ropes were tight, but Anna’s body weight dragged her down, stretching her arms and stomach muscles. The pain was white, an electric whiteness that was blinding. She begged for release, screamed that it had all been a mistake, that she wanted to live, but Sadie and Mr Pandemonium simply stood and watched. Mr Pandemonium was expressionless again but Sadie’s faces contorted in anger, hysterical laughter, sadness and pleading, echoing Anna’s own feelings. There was no passing of time to mark. The day, the agony, would be endless.
Little by little, Anna fought for control of her body, to distance herself from the pain. If there were two of her, she thought, then they were surely both here in one body, one mind, not in the two worlds. It was the only explanation for how she felt; if Mr Pandemonium was a fractured piece of her, her self-destructive urges born in flesh and blood then Sadie, his unhappy companion, was her emotional side, her numerous faces portraying Anna’s own inner turmoil. This was a lost land and horrified as she was to be here she was also perversely close to contentment, happiness even. Would it be such an awful thing to die here? she thought. Dizziness and nausea swept over her, and as she sank into unconsciousness a new question formed; were her tormentors now free-willed, or were they responding to her, doing what she had unknowingly asked of them? Could she get them to take her down from the agony of the cross?
And if so, would she?
Cramp woke her. It had crept into her arms, calves and thighs while she was unconscious. She awoke to a crooked body, each muscle a tight knot. She screamed herself awake. She found herself alone so screamed at the static sun. The garden where she had seen some happiness so many years ago was now witnessing her laborious execution. Finally her mutinous muscles relaxed and she slumped, sticky with sweat, pathetically grateful for the interlude from pain.
‘You’ve time to think now, Anna,’ said a voice.
Anna slowly raised her head. The voice was calm and kind; neither Mr Pandemonium’s nor Sadie’s. The garden was empty, yet she was being watched. It was so hard to think, to focus on what was around her. Eventually she looked down to Hope’s disfigured corpse on the lawn below. There was movement a few feet away, from the fragment of her face that lay on the grass. Its eye blinked and looked straight back at Anna.
‘If you cannot do some thinking now, when are you ever going to?’
The thin, pale lips on the remainder of her head were moving, while the eye gazed at her, sparkling and intense.
‘You’ve wanted and dreaded this all your life. Less than a second in the world you left behind is forever here - all the time you need. You think you belong here, but you don’t.’
Anna pleaded, ‘Please stop this. Please take me down.’
‘I cannot rescue you. Only you can do that. You see, you’re all you’ve ever needed.’
The mouth fell silent, the eye turned to the sky, lifeless again. The pain returned and this time Anna did not fight it.
(vi) Unremarkable works
If a person’s life could be viewed like a book, how would it be? Like a newly published hardback; untouched, undamaged, the pages neat and clean but the story mediocre, commonplace? Or would it be in tatters, a horror story to top all horror stories, illustrations too strong to stomach? Anna’s was well thumbed and many of its chapters would make harsh reading, but it had been defaced, spoilt. Some of the stories contained had been altered almost beyond recognition. In this re-written version the tamest incidents were twisted to give new meanings, new perspectives. Whose hand was responsible for the vandalism - Mr Pandemonium’s, Sadie’s or even Anna’s herself - was not known.
But every page had a tinge of blue.
Once back on the street, Mr Pandemonium and Sadie parted company. Anna’s death would give them complete autonomy. Mr Pandemonium stood in the middle of the street, blowing fire into the sky and juggling in a solemn celebration of victory. He would soon be able to wreak havoc in the living world, as he had in Anna’s but this time with free rein instead of being shackled to one person. Mr Pandemonium had no further interest in Sadie. She was a whirlpool of emotions who was struggling to thrive in her growing freedom. She was likely to deteriorate further when Anna died, to take the razor to her throat instead of her arms. He let his juggling coals burn themselves out, blew fire at a nearby car and as it exploded he began to walk down the street, with the air of a man taking an ordinary afternoon stroll.
Alone now, Sadie listened to the mass of opinions being expressed around her head. It was not a considered debate - the voices were squabbling with one another. Some were exhilarated at the prospect of freedom, others were terrified. Each argued its own case. The balance of opinion tipped one way then another and everywhere in between. Wounds all over Sadie’s body were healing and re-opening in a constant flux of pain and relief. Then, one by one, the voices quietened down until, for the first time Sadie could ever remember, she was surrounded by complete silence. She was alone, abandoned first by Mr Pandemonium then by the voices that argued and laughed at and with one another until decisions were finally made. What was she left with? She thought about Anna. Mr Pandemonium enjoyed being outside, but Sadie hated it. They were all elements of one another; to be separate just wasn’t right. Mr Pandemonium would never return but Sadie knew she had to if she wanted to survive. A stabbing bolt of pain drove her to her knees. Her wounds were deepening. What had been the most superficial cuts opened to reveal bone and muscle. Her body was tearing itself apart.
In the distance, never once looking back, Mr Pandemonium stepped into the other world to begin his mission.
(vii) Anna welcomes death
Anna was dreaming. Nightmares and fantasies, intertwined with one another. Torture, sex, death; the most unbelievable cruelties mixed with lust and passion. She jerked awake to find the sun beating down on her parched mouth and her arms about to tear themselves out of their sockets. It was almost blissful. She greeted every morsel of pain like an old friend. It was honest; it did not dress itself up as anything other than what it was. It was there to caress every inch of her and was sincere in its promise to remain with her until the end.
A shape moved erratically at the side of the house and she watched it through eyes filled with sweat. It was Sadie, doubled up, moving with difficulty through the garden. Anna could just make out her numerous faces, though now they were ashen and silent. Sadie stumbled to the cross and used it to pull herself upright. She was terribly injured. Her body was covered in vicious cuts, several with dark blood pouring from them. Anna saw the cut throat razor in her hand and felt hopeful again, sure that Sadie was dying and wanted to take Anna with her.
But Sadie cut her down.
Anna had no strength to fight her off, and her angry refusals of deliverance came out as croaky whispers from a throat as dry as sand. Sadie dragged her to the shade of a tree and the two wounded women lay together, resting. Anna’s emotions were in chaos. Agony circulated around her body like her life’s blood and it was magnificent, but then so, too, was the softness and comfort of Sadie’s body that was wrapped around her like a blanket. Despite her best efforts she had been rescued but if she could lie here forever, she might just forgive Sadie for her selfish act.
But Sadie was moving, massaging Anna’s arms to bring them back to life. As she brought Anna round, Sadie’s own body began to heal. The cuts clotted and scabbed over, her sapped strength began to return. With it came a calm that Sadie rarely experienced, but for Anna strength was matched by rage. The liberatio
n she had felt up on Mr Pandemonium’s cross, with death hovering on the horizon and her ready to greet it, had been dashed. She looked at Sadie’s misshapen head, the faces becoming animated once more and Sadie’s own returning to colour. Furious, she swung a punch at her saviour. She was still too weak for it to be any more than a slap, but it was greeted by a hundred expressions of amazement, a hundred mouths opening in surprise. Sadie grabbed her arm tightly and kneaded the muscles again.
Defeated, Anna began to cry, and managed to speak.
‘I was ready to die. Why couldn’t you leave me?’
‘Was you really? Well, I wasn’t. We’re still a part of one another and I want to live. I need you.’
Anna was still crying. Her lips were swollen and cracked from thirst and her throat rasped painfully. Not knowing how best to help her, Sadie had a moment of indecision and the tiny faces seized the opportunity to be at loggerheads again.
‘Leave her there. You don’t need her.’
‘Look after her. You can be strong together.’
‘You can’t be without her. Help her.’
Ignoring them all, Sadie opened her sari and took out her razor. Holding one of her breasts, she cut swiftly and neatly across the nipple. As the blood began to flow from the small incision, she held Anna’s head and guided her mouth to her teat. Anna responded immediately, finding comfort and nourishment in the act. For a long time they lay there, like mother and child, Anna gaining strength from Sadie. As she recovered, she was aware of more, of feelings that fluttered around her like moths to light, all the emotions that had been denied since this fantastic encounter had begun. Her depression was breaking down again, the thick fog clearing. It was time to leave this dead place.
Sadie’s cut dried but Anna stayed where she was, feeling safe with her mouth on Sadie’s nipple. She wondered dimly if Sadie would mind, but the woman was not pushing her away. Anna drifted into sleep and when she awoke her muscles had loosened enough to allow her some movement.
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