The Portal

by Charles Sterling

  We entered a hut. By request, it was just us three along with Cyl and Proto. Cyl sat right next to me, innocently possessive. There was a table in the center, and a completely round couch in a full three sixty degrees around the table.

  “What’s the situation?” said Proto.

  “Proto knows the details,” I said. “Right?” I looked at him. “Or have your memories reset since then?”

  “Nothing reset,” he replied. “After I killed you by your order, weeks passed. Our enemy retreated, and we moved here.”

  “That’s quite a while,” I looked at Nero.

  “It’s normal,” said Violet. “Sometimes, depending on the structure of the movie a single loop can take either a few hours to end, or a few months.”

  “Could also be a video game or a series,” Nero added.

  “I can’t believe I’m still finding this out at this critical point,” I remarked.

  “What is your situation?” Proto asked again.

  “Alright,” Nero started. “We got a dangerous man on our tail who wants something that we hid away. If he gets that something, we die. I mean, you guys die, and everyone else. And we won’t remember you anymore.”

  “Tell us everything,” said Cyl. She finally spoke, her soft voice turning all the heads. “If you do, we can calculate the likely outcome and your best moves from here.”

  “Perfect,” said Nero.

  We took a few hours. Nero was the one giving most of the information. I heard types of information I’ve never thought could even be real, about the way the threads are connected, the way the engine works and the way Light works and reacts to other forms of Light. He explained glitches and story loops, and that travelling too far past the limits of the story makes you end up on the other end of the world, like going around the globe in a circle. Such was the nature of it.

  Glitches were phenomena of unstable or poorly imagined worlds, where if there was a conflicting understanding of something, in its place would be a violent and deadly glitch to fill the void.

  Then, with my input, we talked about Wilmort, and Reed Faust, and the witch. We explained his story, quoted who the author was, what the movie was called and absolutely anything and everything else that came to mind.

  “Processing,” said Cyl. Seconds later, “processing complete. Likely outcome – defeat.”

  We all lowered our heads in swift disappointment.

  “What about our chances of winning?” said Nero. “What’s the best course of action.”

  “Due to lack of information about the enemy, the chances of winning are by killing him in direct or indirect confrontation. The percent of chances is below five.”

  “What about without direct confrontation?” I asked.

  “Lack of information about the enemy does not show any possible ways of defeating him otherwise. He is ethereal and omnipotent, and his experience outweighs yours by several years.”

  We all sighed. Proto got up and went somewhere, we didn’t ask where.

  “I guess we have to go talk to Reed then, get that extra information from him,” said Nero.

  “What makes you think Reed won’t lie to us?” I asked. “That’s Wilmort’s character, cunning, and a liar. If anything we might accidently give too much information to him. Even if he dies or his story resets, the witch gives him his memories back.”

  “You make it sound hopeless,” said Violet.

  “It’s always darkest before dawn,” I said. “When it sounds most hopeless, is when you find hope.”

  “What story did you pull that quote out of?” Nero asked.

  “My own,” I replied. “We’re real,” I nodded. “He isn’t. I think we have an advantage over him. I think…” my eyes glued to a spot on the table in front of us. “I think.” I had nothing else to say. There was silence between us.

  Proto came back with a tray and three cocktails.

  “I thought you could use some,” he smiled vividly.

  “Please tell me there’s whiskey in them,” said Violet.

  “Rum,” said Proto.

  “Perfect,” she desperately reached for her glass. Anything to reduce stress right about now. I mean, we all had a drink, why not? We couldn’t come up with anything right off the bat and just enjoyed ten minutes in a way that I feel we never got to enjoy before.

  “We’ll win,” said Nero. “I know we will. And if we don’t then…”

  “No, we’ll just win,” I interrupted Nero.

  “I predict our enemy to arrive in an estimate of one hour based on previous experience,” said Cyl.

  “Oh shoot,” I put down my glass. “If we stay too long, well, basically, it’s bad.”

  “No worries, we were just leaving,” said Nero.

  “I want another drink,” said Violet.

  “Violet, seriously?” I looked at her.

  “Won’t the handsome bartender bring one for me?” she winked at Proto.

  “That’s the most uncharacteristic thing I’ve ever seen Violet do,” I said.

  “You’ve never seen her drunk then,” said Nero.

  “I cannot disobey humans,” said Proto, standing up.

  “No,” I interrupted him. “Don’t, she was kidding.”

  I got up, and so did Nero. We pulled up the unwilling Violet by her hands and made our way out of the hut. It was beautiful – and it was peaceful. If we didn’t leave, beauty and peace would be promptly out the door.

  “On to Reed I guess,” said Nero.

  “No,” I said.

  “No?” he looked at me.

  “I’ve written stories before. One thing stories do their best to abide by is logic and avoiding plot inconsistencies.”

  “What are you saying?” said Violet.

  “If Reed is a liar, he will always be a liar. If the witch told the truth, she will always tell the truth. Our target is her, not him.”

  “What makes you think she’ll listen to us?”

  “Because I’ll exchange my soul for it.”

  “Is that how it works?” said Nero.

  “Trust me!” I said loudly. “I know a lot of things won’t entirely make sense, but things such as love prevailing, or friendship winning, or good coming out victorious, these things are the backbones of stories. Wilmort’s story has been going on for too long, and we just need to end it.”

  “Without Regal we can’t know which time of Reed’s story we’re entering,” said Nero.

  “We’ll have to rely on luck,” I said.

  “Since when are you head of the operation?” said Violet.

  “Since just now.”

  “Going to see the witch though… Do you even have a soul?” Nero asked me.

  “I don’t know, guess we’ll find out. We have to play by the rules of the story. The story is already in our favor, Wilmort is destined to lose.”

  “He’s right,” said Violet, looking down. “You can change the story objectively, but not subjectively.”

  “Fine,” said Nero. “Lead the way.”

  I created a photograph from Light, it was the witch’s cave. They took it to observe it.

  I looked back at Cyl and Proto.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I wish I could visit more often, just without those guys invading you every time.”

  Proto smiled. “We’ll just beat them again like last time.”

  “An important thing to note,” I said, “is that Wilmort isn’t real. The real one is Reed. We’ll hopefully find out more from the witch, but I’m over ninety percent sure that we don’t need to face Wilmort to defeat Wilmort.”

  “Right,” Nero nodded. Violet opened a portal for us. We went in.

  Chapter 20

  We were at the witch’s lair. It was a dark cave inside a mountain. The moonlight reflected on the lake, which reflected on the ceiling of the cave in mellow watery patterns.

  “Here we are,” said Violet. Her voice echoed accidently too loud.

  “Now what?” Nero asked in a low voice.

 
“There,” I pointed. There was an altar in the middle of an open space.

  We collectively got closer to it. It wasn’t that large, just about the size of an average square table. On it, there were marking engraved into the stone – clearly demonic runes and symbols, and an ugly pentagram star in the center.

  “Spill your blood above the altar,” I read the writings on it.

  I created a knife in my hand, and pressed the edge against my palm.

  “Wait,” said Violet.

  “What?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you be sure?” she bit her lip.

  “I can’t be, but I’m sure.”

  “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re sure,” she said.

  I looked her straight in the eye, and while looking her straight in the eye I ran the blade down against my skin and bled onto the stone altar.

  She sighed frustratingly.

  From pure darkness, not far in front of us, a figure began to form. She was in a white veil and a long white robe dress that covered every part of her skin.

  “You have come to my domain to seek solace,” said the witch, her voice eerie but womanly.

  “Almost,” I said.

  “Speak your desire,” she said, “and in exchange for your soul I will grant you any wish.”

  “I want to know how to defeat Wilmort,” I said.

  Violet’s fists clutched. Nero folded his arms. They were just slightly behind me on each side.

  There was silence from the witch. It was a very tense silence – we did not know what to expect, or what was going on.

  Seconds passed. I stared at her anxiously. She moved slightly, and began walked towards me. The altar was right in between us up to our waists, and we were a single meter apart in distance. That was too close for comfort.

  “You seek to kill Wilmort,” she said.

  “I assume you’d know that,” I replied.

  “I know – everything.”

  “You do, don’t you?” I narrowed my eyes.

  Her hands revealed themselves from under her long sleeves. Her hands were young – I had expected a much older woman from the way she crippled her voice. She neared them to her veil, lightly gripping the white fabric and pulling it off of her head.

  My heart sank. I covered my mouth and stepped back.

  “It was you…?”

  She was the blond girl with red lips – she was the witch that followed me to the darkest pits of my dreams.

  “Raymond?” Violet asked me. “Raymond are you okay?”

  “Raymond!” said Nero, grabbing my shoulder. My eyes look like they’ve seen a ghost.

  “I honestly thought,” I said, “that maybe I saw you somewhere and my infatuation made illusions out of you. But it was you, wasn’t it? Did Wilmort set you up for it?”

  “I am not on his side,” she said, “and neither am I on yours.”

  “Whose side are you on then?” said Nero.

  “I am on the devil’s side, and he salivates when I bring him souls to feast on.”

  I was hyperventilating again. I knew not why she had such a strong mental influence on me – but her being a bloody damned witch definitely explained a lot.

  “Maybe we should turn back,” said Violet.

  “No,” I said.

  “Look at you!” Violet jolted at me. “You’ve lost all composure when you saw her! We can’t bargain with a devil worshipper, that’s not how fairy tales work!”

  “That’s right, Raymond,” said Wilmort. “That’s not how fairy tales work.” His voice echoed from the corner of the cave just before he stepped out for us to see him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “At your birth place,” I said.

  “Has the witch told you everything, then?” he looked displeased.

  “Instinct,” I shook my head a little. I was fine. I wasn’t going to let her get the better of me.

  “So what will you do now, Raymond?” he stopped a certain distance from us. We were at a three-way standoff.

  “Actually,” I said, “I was just about to trade my soul to find out how to kill you.”

  “You’ll lose yourself,” he said. “You’ll be stuck here, forever, unable to return to your world.”

  “Sounds like a bluff I’m willing to call.”

  “You’re a fool,” said Wilmort.

  “Maybe,” I looked back at the witch.

  “Violet,” Wilmort looked at her sternly. His tone of voice completely changed. “He’s gone mad, stop him, this instant.

  “What if I refuse?” she replied to him.

  “Okay, witch,” I said. “Take my soul, give me my answers. How do I kill Wilmort Strayer?”

  “No!!” Wilmort yelled, his voice echoed through the entire cave.

  Behind the witch, from the same darkness, spawned a mirror. The mirror was old, and somehow malicious in its creepy design.

  Wilmort’s heart sank. He pulled out the same gun that he killed Doug with, and pointed it at us. We didn’t even flinch. We could tell… that we’ve won.

  “The Wilmort that stands before you is nothing but a reflection, created from this very mirror,” said the witch, “he had bargained his soul to find out the truth, and found out that he is not real, and his story was dictated by someone else. The second bargain was to free his soul, which I could not grant him. Instead, I offered him this mirror, so that another Reed Faust may take his place to seek vengeance upon you. For the mirror, he offered me his undying and unbreakable promise of never acting out any violence or ill malice against me or my interests.”

  “So that if this situation happened,” said Nero, looking at Wilmort, “he couldn’t shoot the witch, nor us, cause we still have valuable souls that she might want.”

  “Precisely,” the witch smiled eerily.

  BANG!

  I jerked and jumped from the loud gunshot sound. I looked back at Violet. She was holding a gun.

  “Violet, you…” I looked at the mirror. There was a large bullet hole in it, and the whole thing was cracked.

  Nero’s hands were gripping his head tightly. We weren’t even sure if we were supposed to do that, but Violet went ahead and did it anyways.

  We all looked at Wilmort. He was holding his abdomen… there was blood on his hands. The bullet shot through the glass acted as if the bullet was shot through him instead.

  He dropped heavily on his knees.

  “Wilmort…” I mumbled his name.

  “Did I really lose?” he asked. Bits and pieces of the mirror began falling down from the frame.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “But… how…” his voice was fading. He dropped down on his face. All three of us rushed over to him, turning him around and holding his head up. Violet and I were closest to him, Nero was right next to us.

  Wilmort smiled a little. His eyes were half closed.

  “Raymond,” he said.

  “Yes…”

  His hand slowly lifted up. He was holding the pendant. I took it from him gently.

  “Do not give your soul…” he choked a little and let out a cough. “To her…!”

  “But… I already did, didn’t I?”

  “Did you…?” Violet looked up at him.

  Nero went over to the altar. He lifted a stone slab up. It had Raymond’s blood on it. Beneath the sheet of stone, was the exact same stone. The one on top dispersed into Light and faded into thin air.

  “You…” the witch said.

  “Raymond said earlier, that we have to play by the rules of your world. I disagreed.”

  “Nero!” I grinned widely.

  Nero’s body was flung back against the wall by the power of the witch. She clenched him tightly in her ethereal grasp, choking and suffocating him. We darted forth, leaving Wilmort behind.

  Violet and I shot powerful attacks from our bare hands at the witch, but she was all powerful. The attacks moved away from her by themselves, and now she had all three of us in h
er grasp. Her face was malicious and vindictive.

  “You dared trick me… Humans… I will have all your souls, all! May the devil feast tonight!!” she yelled out frantically.

  A loud gunshot that jolted our bodies from the unexpectedness echoed through the cave. With Wilmort’s dying breath, he shot the witch in the head. She fell straight to the floor, black blood spilling from her.

  We all fell to the floor as her grip was released.

  The altar in the center of the cave began crumbling and collapsing. It eventually turned to dust, turned molten red and burned down through the floor. The burn spread wide, and turned into something we definitely didn’t want to confront. Wilmort broke the pact, and the gates to hell opened. The devil’s arm burst forth, gripping the edge of the entrance. It was ridiculously large, red skinned with a black claw, and was about to grab all of us and pull us in.

  “We’re out we’re out we’re out!!” Nero opened a portal for us.

  “To where?!” Violet yelled back at him.

  “Base!”

  We all burst straight through the portal, and that was the last we saw of the devil, and the last we saw of Wilmort.

  Chapter 21

  I gently opened my eyes. I was at the base – the white-ish blue-ish light filling up my vision before it all cleared out. I always ended up on the exact same spot, right next to the couches.

  Oh… and there were my friends, both hugging me this time.

  “Guys,” I smiled.

  “We won,” said Nero. “I think we actually won, this time.”

  We sat down on the couches, all three of us exchanging glances. It was a little bit speechless – and extremely bittersweet. This place wasn’t quite the same anymore. It was only us three left, us real people. All the friends we made along the way were no longer with us. Our victorious smiles turned to Violet crying on Nero’s shoulder.

  Twenty minutes of silence passed. Violet retreated to her room.

  I got up from the couches slowly and went over to the giant block structure they called the engine.

  “The red pulse is still there,” I said, looking up at it.

  “Yeah,” said Nero. “I wonder what it is.”

  “Why don’t you ask me?” said Dr. Regal.