by Zach Adams
“Need something? I’m wasting good time here,” Isaac responded. His friend didn’t snap back with a witty retort. He looked horrified, his eyes wide open and sweat dripping down his forehead.
He’s not even supposed to be here today, Panic reminded him. Isaac asked his friend what was wrong.
“The news, man! Haven’t you seen? There was a bloodbath at the museum the day before yesterday. Some video just came out from it, it’s really fuzzy and messed up but people are saying it’s you in there.”
Isaac’s insides sunk into the ground. While his throat closed and his limbs all went numb, Donny continued.
“Word’s getting out quick. You can tell me all about it at my house after we get the hell out of here.”
Isaac nodded and shoved his laptop into his backpack, feeling a patch of static electricity forming at the base of his skull.
The two of them nearly made it to the exit before they were stopped.
“Isaac, would you come to my office please?” A kind, though strained, voice said behind them. They turned and saw Olivia, her arms crossed, and jaw clenched. She had a hardcover book tucked under her right arm, but Isaac couldn’t see the title.
Run for it! Panic squealed. Donny, thinking along the same lines, nudged his friend with his elbow. Isaac shook his head at Donny and followed Olivia. His panicked partner reluctantly did the same.
Beige was waiting next to Olivia’s desk, idly straightening photos on the wall which showed her three cats and six fiery-haired siblings. He was completely at ease, glad that at least one of this trouble-making pair was finally caught. Olivia directed Donny to stay outside while they talked to Isaac.
“Take a seat, Isaac,” Olivia told him. Her tone was neutral, but her employee knew a command when he heard one. He obeyed.
Without another word, Olivia turned her computer around to face him. On the screen was a news article about a mass murder at the Anchorage museum, two days previously. She read part of it to him. As she read, she placed her book on top of her desk. It was the same library book Isaac had found the Pages in.
“This book was found in the museum right after the attack the other day that’s been on the news, among the bodies. The barcode matched to one missing from our system,” Olivia explained before reading the news out loud. “December 28, 2018, 10:42 AM. One hundred and four people, including employees, a group of thirty second graders, their teacher, and a handful of parents, were enjoying a day at the Anchorage Museum. A popular fandom exhibit had taken over the top floor of the building while the rest remained devoted to Alaskan history. A dark-haired man in his early twenties entered wearing a purple sweater, white button-down and black slacks.” Olivia relayed the news mechanically. Isaac gulped and fought to keep his anxiety from his face. His boss continued.
“‘He seemed nervous but otherwise harmless,’ Front desk attendants Abigail McGuire and Alison Evans said. She paid little attention at first, until hearing his description on the news later. ‘Less than an hour after he got there, there was this horrible noise from the back of the museum. A big jungle cat with some sort of metal coat came in and started ripping people apart. Everyone panicked and ran for the doors.’ Within moments, over half of the people in the building had been killed. The same young man appeared from upstairs, firing a gun into the crowd before setting off some sort of explosion. Police managed to recover footage from the damaged security cameras, possibly identified the perpetrator, and have released a notice that Isaac Victor ‘Ivy’ Falcone is wanted for questioning.”
The three of them sat in silence. Olivia stared at Isaac, hoping he could convince her it wasn’t true, while Beige glared holes into the young man’s skull. Ten seconds seem to take as long as the preceding week.
Isaac stuttered, unable to defend himself. He swallowed a few times to smooth out the sandpaper in his throat.
“I don’t know what this is about,” He finally said without looking at either of them. Olivia looked down at her desk.
“Oh, bull,” Beige snapped almost as soon as Isaac spoke. “Everyone knows it was you, just come clean and turn yourself in before it gets even worse. If you don’t, I’ll call the police myself.”
Kill kill kill, Rage roared unhelpfully.
Why are we not running? Panic piped up underneath the first thought.
“Benjamin, please be quiet,” Olivia said coolly. “Isaac, I don’t believe you’re capable of something like this. Just tell us everything you know. Maybe we can help you.”
Isaac looked her in the eye for a second before turning away. She looked as scared as he felt. When he failed to speak, she stood up.
“Okay, let’s all step outside for a moment,” Olivia said with a heavy sigh. Isaac and Beige followed her out of the office. The latter pushed Donny away from the doorway with his shoulder as they left.
“You could have been honest, Falcone,” Beige sneered. No one replied, so he kept right on filling the silence himself. “Now you’re going away for a long time,” He said a bit too happily.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isaac growled under his breath. Beige snorted and shook his head, patting Isaac on the shoulder condescendingly.
A second later, Isaac was running in the opposite direction. Donny joined him without needing to be told.
Their flight was short-lived as Beige gave chase and grabbed Isaac by the collar of his sweater, tearing the fabric slightly, and pinned him against a nearby bookshelf by the throat. Isaac struggled against his attacker, unable to call for help. Olivia shouted at her assistant to stop and the handful of patrons in view backed off in fright.
“I am so sick of your shit, Falcone,” Beige growled, aiming a fist at Isaac’s face.
The hit never connected, as he was interrupted by a second fist, belonging to one Genghis Don. The latter then grabbed Isaac and led him to the parking lot as Beige fell to the floor, going out of his way to flail and howl dramatically as he went. Donny took the performance as a compliment to his strength.
The pair made it out of the building unscathed and descended the steep staircase leading away from the front door. As always, the only car parked closer to the building than Isaac’s was that of Beige Schafer. They made it to the vehicle and found its passenger seat occupied by a grinning, monochrome Charlie Chaplin.
Donny froze, staring at the jovial gray face in the car, as Isaac climbed silently into the driver’s seat. The latter waved through the windshield at him and gave a second gesture which clearly stated, “Get in the back or I’ll run your ass over.”
Donny obeyed and, before his legs made it inside, he exclaimed, “What the hell is this?”
Chaplin turned to face Donny with a smile still plastered on his face and gave a gentle wave without a word.
Isaac stared at Charlie, who seemed totally unaffected by the situation. He then looked at Donny, who was stuttering in confusion.
“Donny, um…” Isaac began, having difficulty finding a way to ease his friend into everything going on. “No, you were right,” He added before redirecting his attention to the passenger seat. “Charlie, you explain yourself. I can’t do this right now.”
Chaplin rolled his eyes. In the time it took to blink, he was replaced by the silver-haired, golden-eyed, white-suited L’æon, though the grin and bowler hat remained unchanged.
“L’æon,” The elf introduced himself with an extended hand, which went unshaken as Donny couldn’t bring his appendages to make the proper motions. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I already know you are called Donny, so you need not attempt to make introductions through your babbling.”
L’æon wasn’t wrong, as Donny’s immediate reaction to the stranger wasn’t all that different from Isaac’s. Less tearful, perhaps, but Donny didn’t need to know that.
“I was unaware anyone would be accompanying us.” L’æon said with a hint of concern as he withdrew his rejected handshake. Isaac clenched his jaw in frustration as he started the car and embarked on their esc
ape.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know I was being accompanied in the first place,” Isaac snapped. “Apparently things decided to go sideways today so, we’re adapting. Donny, your house, correct?”
Donny, having dulled his babbling to a series of soft whimpers, nodded in response.
“Good. L’æon, we’re going to his house. We’ll all get on the same page there.”
Heh, Page, get it? Rage interjected. Isaac hoped L’æon didn’t catch the thought.
A tense silence followed as they fled.
Isaac pulled into the empty garage of a two-story house on the south end of town. Donny’s parents were on a vacation in Hawaii, so this was the safest place available to them.
The trio shuffled into the basement, which was made up of Donny’s living space and the laundry room. A neat row of family photos, which the Grigoryan family had taken every five years or so since moving to Alaska, lined the hallway - Donny looking increasingly wild as the years progressed with shaggier hair and cartoonish expressions, standing out between his strait-laced parents, who managed at least the appearance of endless patience.
Donny’s room was essentially the same as it had been during high school, only with updates and additions throughout the intervening years; a faded, hand-made sign bearing the words “GENGHIS DON’S DUNJUN” remained above the entrance, the wall was plastered with even more posters of video game characters and musicians. To the left of the doorway was a fifty-five-inch curved television with a flat screen, underneath which was a collection of gaming systems from a Sega Genesis to an Xbox One. Facing the screen was a pair of black leather gaming chairs, propped against a half-dozen shelves of games and movies.
Donny and Isaac collapsed into the gaming chairs while L’æon stood near the doorway. Donny had, for the first time in Isaac’s memory, been stunned beyond words.
“L’æon, I think we have a lot to catch Donny up on. We don’t really have a choice now.” Isaac let the statement hang in the air for a few moments while they all stared at each other.
L’æon scratched his chin thoughtfully and said nothing. Donny stared at his strange guest while his jaw attempted to reach his knees.
Well, that was no help whatsoever, Rage sighed. Guess I better keep the words coming.
“Okay, let’s not all talk at once. I’ll start. I have a few questions that have yet to be answered anyways,” Isaac turned to address Donny.
“So, Don. Yeah, still here. Let’s just dive into it. The day after Christmas I was attacked by zombies in the library.”
“Hollows,” L’æon interrupted, still failing to be helpful.
“Right, hollows, sorry,” Isaac said through his teeth. “Anyways. I was attacked. L’æon saved me. Any questions so far?”
Donny opened and closed his mouth a few times like a cartoon fish. For an agonizing forty-three seconds (Isaac counted in his head, finding it kept his pulse under control), the only sound in the room was L’æon shuffling about, examining Donny’s possessions. He paused on a book of Greek mythological tales, flipping idly through the pages and giggling knowingly under his breath at some of them.
“Z-zombies,” Donny stuttered.
“Hol -” L’æon began to correct again, but Isaac raised a hand to stop him, and then nodded at his friend.
“A-and what happened at the m-museum?” Donny asked, still not comprehending fully but trying his best to go along with it.
“This demon-cat-lizard thing called a moura showed up while I was reading in the fandom exhibit. Tore up a whole bunch of people, traumatized some kids. I tried to distract it, and this guy -” He pointed to L’æon. “Popped up just in time to stop me being cat food.” The elf looked up from the book in his hand to smile and wave.
Donny looked at his feet, which were tapping the floor uncontrollably. “There was something in my coffee, right? You put some acid in there to screw with me. Good one. I’ll have to try that on Beige.” Isaac shook his head and pinched his friend’s arm, to show him that this was all real.
“Genghis Don,” Isaac said as he put a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder, though the effect was lost on Donny. “Don’t panic.” He said with a wink. Donny looked up at him as he said it.
“S-so… Who is he?” Donny asked, indicating the elf-ephant in the room. L’æon stepped closer and took a seat.
“Well, you know my name, so I assume you mean something more along the lines of ‘what is he’ or ‘where does he hail from’. Not to worry. Even one of your best science folk, I believe he said he was called Albert, got culture shock at first.”
“Albert?” Isaac asked.
“Another old acquaintance,” L’æon said. “Landed on several almost-accurate conclusions about dimensions and time and the like. He actually guessed what I was the second time we met. Can you believe that? Just when I became convinced you had all forgotten. But by then of course, most of you did. It is quite a shame I made it back to Earth so late, he would certainly have valuable insight into the current state of the universe.”
Isaac cleared his throat. The elf looked up in surprise which spread into a grin.
“I became distracted again, did I not?” L’æon asked. Isaac and Donny both nodded slowly. “My apologies. As I was saying, I am Æ’géminë, though due to your evolutionary handicap I will not be offended if you call me an elf, as many of your kind have.” He summarized the rest of his background, condensing everything he had already told Isaac so that no one in any timeline would have to type the whole story out again. The printing cost alone would be ridiculous.
Donny looked at his friend, and then back at the elf. They both watched him, waiting for a reply. Finally, he croaked, “Why?”
Isaac looked at L’æon and shrugged. The latter nodded calmly and continued speaking.
“Picture the whole of reality as a large sheet of glass. Are you picturing? Just a grand, flat, clear sheet of glass. Or better still, a mirror. But the concept of the reflection is another story for later. For now, just think about your universe, and replace it with the sheet of glass. The reflected side does not matter. So, one day, someone tosses a pebble at the glass. It does not shatter - the pebble lodges itself in, a multitude of cracks spreading out from it. Are you following me?” He asked Donny as well as Isaac. The latter gave a nod while the former just stared, open-mouthed and unblinking.
“The glass is about to shatter. Isaac, somehow, is the pebble, and I believe I found a lead on who did the throwing.”
Isaac flung his hands in the air, accidentally smacking Donny on the arm.
“What did you find? Why didn’t you say anything before?” He demanded. L’æon took a seat on Donny’s opposite side, facing Isaac.
“Frankly, it was rather odd,” The elf said, only to Isaac. Donny pushed back into his chair, almost glad for the first time in his life to not be noticed as the pair spoke.
“I was sniffing out magical residue in your downtown, after our study session in the library. It was faint, but I thought I detected the same sensory trace which led me to the knowledge places each time I have found you. What I believed to be a shade emerged from the darkness. It escaped me, but your familiarity with the city could perhaps enable me to track it again.”
Isaac raised his eyebrows and nodded toward his semi-catatonic friend. L’æon turned slightly to his right, mildly surprised to see that Donny was still sitting between them. The latter turned back to the elf, brows raised and eyes wide.
“Oh, right. I suppose your companion may join us.”
Chapter Seventeen: The Devil in the Pale Moonlight
?2018?
Isaac decided on the group’s behalf, over L’æon’s pointed insistence to the contrary, that they wait until dark to leave the house. With Isaac a wanted man and Donny now either his accomplice or his kidnapping victim, he felt it was safest to go out when there were fewer people on the street to recognize him.
L’æon reluctantly agreed and resumed reading. Donny stayed in his gaming chair,
gaping at the oblivious silver man speeding through his limited collection of books. L’æon made a noise of confusion and frustration when he pulled out a plastic rectangle only to find it contained a strange disc rather than pages to read. Donny currently lacked the ability to explain video games to him.
Isaac paced upstairs. Ever since the museum he had been on the lookout for any sign of suspicious activity on L’æon’s part. The strange entity’s predilection for distraction and tendency to change direction at any stray thought made observation a challenge - made even more difficult by the necessity of Isaac drowning out his own thoughts.
What counts as abnormal when everything about him is abnormal? Panic asked.
Isaac was well on his way to stomping a small racetrack into the carpet when Donny appeared at the top of the stairs.
“L-L… Your friend would like to talk to you downstairs.” Donny told him.
“Did he say what about?”
“Nope. He was reading my encyclopedia of Marvel characters, got all concerned about Blade and Morbius, then it was like a light bulb blinked on over his head. He asked me to come get you.”
Isaac nodded and walked toward the stairs.
Donny put a hand to Isaac’s chest and asked, “So, this is real, isn’t it?” Isaac asked what specifically he was referring to.
“Elves. Zo - Hollow. Monsters and magic. All the Final Fantasy, D&D stuff y’all were talking about. Heavy shit is going on.”
Isaac nodded again, not making eye contact. Donny exhaled dramatically and the pair returned downstairs. L’æon sat cross-legged on the seat previously occupied by Isaac, head slightly tilted as he watched them approach.
“The sky has darkened,” L’æon told them, pointing through a window. The full moon shone through the glass. “We must depart. As I said before, I arrived at a large building covered in electric words. A local informed me it was called Bus Station. I caught a sour scent like vinegar there and followed it, and my eye was caught by what seemed to be a shade, a particularly elusive one at that. It was pale and had a vague glow about it. What?” He paused as both Isaac and Donny had raised their eyebrows at the description. He looked down at himself and sighed.