Realm Wraith

by T. R. Briar

  “Though she is a Realm Wraith, she has yet to be pulled from her dream. I feel that her body must be trapped in a coma; alive, but unable to awaken. She will stay in the Abyss until it does.”

  “So you just left her there? To come bother me?”

  “I’m not a babysitter.”

  “No, you’re a stalker that won’t leave me alone, it seems. Why are you so intent on haunting me? Are you waiting for me to die? Is it because you lost me once and wish to be the one to drag me back to hell?”

  “Duty is duty. I originally came to bring you, but you did not truly die. I have no regrets either way. If you do die, I will not be the one to return you to the Abyss. It has already claimed you. Besides,” Darrigan gestured outwards. “I don’t get paid for what I do. There’s no reward, or detriment for bringing lost souls back. It’s our role in things.”

  “So why bother?”

  “Because it’s fun,” Darrigan’s smile spread into a wide grin. “To watch them screaming in terror as they’re taken against their will, dragging them from their reality into ours. To be with them as their awareness fades, and they know their reason is slipping away bit by bit, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Their will crumbles away in the Abyss, leaving a soul devoid of thought, where only emotion remains. We feed on that emotion.”

  “You didn’t need to be that detailed.”

  “It’s an exhilarating feeling. One I suppose you, as a human, wouldn’t understand.”

  “I understand exhilaration. I imagine it’s like a drug for you, a cheap thrill.”

  “Nothing so shallow as that. It’s a deeper feeling, a strong connection that we devour and savor. We sense and understand every tiny detail of that emotion as we feed upon it.”

  “Then I guess that’s something I won’t ever understand,” Rayne replied. “Why would you tell me that, anyways? Are you really so starved for conversation?”

  “I just thought you’d like to know.”

  “I think you’re mistaken.”

  “Then, let’s talk about you.”

  “There’s nothing you need to know that you don’t already know about me.”

  “Really? So you know why you’re in Hell?”

  “This is conversation for you? You know I have no memory of anything like that.”

  “Maybe I can help. I can take you places. Your childhood home, places that were important to you. Maybe it will stir up your memories.”

  His offer almost intrigued Rayne, but something held him back. Though he did not want to follow Gabriel’s example of blindly hating this creature as he did, he did not want to openly trust a being he barely knew either, and the demon’s willingness to lead him around and give him answers at a moment’s notice, without asking for more than an undefined favor, made him wary.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to remember? What else are you going to do today, lie around watching this box? Come with me, everyone else will simply think you’re resting.”

  Rayne didn’t answer. He turned away from the demon, putting his weight on his right side to face the back of his sofa. But after a moment, he turned back, and reached his hand out.

  “Fine. Before I change my mind,” he said.

  Darrigan gripped his arm tight, and a familiar sensation of loosening followed, just like the day before. Rayne immediately regretted his decision, realizing he’d have to face the same nightmarish delusions once he tried to return. But it was too late now. Darrigan pulled him upwards, and he stood in his living room beside himself. He stretched his legs, bumping briefly against the coffee table. A pair of teacups still rested on top, one half empty as Rayne had not yet finished drinking it. Looking down, he saw frost on the edges of the cup, the liquid inside frozen solid.

  “Did you do that?” he asked.

  “I’m not nearly as cold as you are,” Darrigan replied. “Come on.”

  He pulled Rayne up and passed with him through the wall. They soared upwards over the city, flying faster than any jet. Buildings blurred beneath them as they flew, and flocks of birds scattered in their path.

  Barely a moment had passed when they stopped again. Below them lay a small village, quaint cottages dotting rolling hills, surrounding a large concentration of buildings in the center.

  “This is where?” Rayne asked his smoky companion.

  “This is where you grew up, I believe.”

  “Wait, I—” Rayne blinked, confused. “How do you know where I grew up? I can’t even remember. I mean, I meant to look it up but I hadn’t—how?”

  Darrigan didn’t say anything. He did however, point to a single cottage sitting in the distance.

  “Aren’t you going to answer? How do you know where I grew up?”

  The reaper pulled him downwards, toward the indicated house. It was a well kept two-story building, surrounded by gardens. The grass was greener here, with visible buds of flowers.

  “The people that live here now seem to be taking good care of the place,” Darrigan remarked.

  That’s right, Rayne realized. David had mentioned Rayne’s parents dying in a car accident. Now Rayne lived in the city, and had no brothers or sisters that he knew of. So of course strangers would be living in this place.

  “Shall we go inside?”

  Rayne nodded. He passed through the walls of the upper floor, entering the little cottage, pulled by the reaper’s hand. He looked down the wooden floors and stucco walls with walnut edging.

  “Are you certain I lived here before? It doesn’t look familiar.”

  “I might have gotten the address wrong. I was fairly positive.”

  “You dragged me here when you weren’t even sure?!”

  Darrigan looked towards the stairs. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I think there’s someone downstairs.”

  “So what? They can’t see us.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to see who lives in your childhood home? Come on.” Darrigan tugged at his hand. He led Rayne down a flight of rustic stairs, painted white, against a wall with blue flowered wallpaper. The wallpaper caught Rayne’s eye, and in his mind images of his photo book flashed by. Him as a young boy with two strangers, in front of that same pattern of flowers on the wall. Did he come to the right house after all?

  He stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, bringing a halt to Darrigan as well.

  “Now what?” the reaper grumbled, looking Rayne in the eyes.

  It was like a bolt of lightning illuminating something forgotten. Rayne did indeed know this place, but not from his memories, not from his childhood. This room, it was the same. A wooden entryway, surrounded by arched doors that led to other parts of the house. A bare wooden floor, the only visible furniture a table in the center of the room, host to ceramic bowl with a country design, filled with apples. Fresh paint coated the walls of the cheerful room, surrounding polished floors. But there was no doubt in his mind he had seen this very room, before a deluge of water had flooded it.

  “Why did you bring me here?” he asked, unable to bring his voice above a strangled whisper.

  “We’ve been over this already.”

  “Don’t give me that! Answer me!” His voice was an angry roar now, accusing and rough. “Is this part of the torment? Is my suffering when I’m asleep not enough?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I saw this house, in the Abyss! It was rotten, decayed, but it was the same house!”

  “Sometimes the Abyss can mess with the mind.” Darrigan did not seem concerned. “If you remembered this place, you may have thought you saw—”

  “Don’t give me that bollocks! It was there! I saw it!”

  Repulsed, Rayne backed away from Darrigan, dropping his hand.

  “Rayne, wait!”

  A sudden whirling dizziness overtook Rayne and the world around him turned to static, like the reception on the television gone bad. He saw the wallpaper and paint on the walls peel and decay, the floorboards rotting beneath his
feet. He felt himself shifting through an unseen rift, reality falling away into nightmare. Demons melted out of the shadows, grabbing his arms with clawed hands and wrenching him deeper into the void. Above him, the air rippled and a skeletal hand clutched his shoulder and lifted him up.

  The world stabilized. The dizziness vanished, and Rayne hung in a blue sky among cottony clouds, held by Darrigan, who glared at him.

  “I told you not to let go!” he hissed. “Do you know how far I had to fly to find you?”

  Rayne gasped, trying to compose himself after lurching back and forth between worlds. Looking down he couldn’t see the small village anymore. They were over what looked like a city, but it wasn’t Langfirth. None of these buildings looked familiar.

  “Where are we?” he gasped.

  “Search me. I was trying to track you between dimensions before I lost you entirely. I warned you, if you let go of my hand, the Abyss will take you.”

  Rayne’s hand clasped the top of Darrigan’s as it continued to hold his shoulder. “Does it really matter? I go back there every night anyways.”

  “This is different. Your body’s not in a natural state of sleep. There’s no telling what might happen if I leave you that way for too long. You could lose your mind; do you want that?”

  “Obviously not.”

  Darrigan took Rayne’s hand and held him up in the air. “Why did you get so upset back there?” he continued. “So you saw that house in the Abyss? The Abyss echoes this universe at times. A mirror image of your childhood home, drawn from your own thoughts and memories, such things can exist. They become warped, like the mind itself.”

  “But I have no memory of that place. I only know it because I saw it in the Abyss. Why would that happen?”

  “You may not consciously remember things, but sometimes the memory lies deeper inside. Everything you’ve forgotten is still there, waiting for you to find it.”

  With eyes half-closed, Rayne looked down at the cityscape below him, so wholesome and steady in the wake of spiraling madness he had become acquainted with. “You still haven’t explained to me how you knew that was my old home.” He rubbed his head with his hand. There’d been a dull pain echoing through it since he’d woken up that morning, and his frustration was only intensifying it. “The car accident wasn’t the first time we’d met, was it?” He sifted through jumbled thoughts. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve taken such an interest in me. That’s how you knew where I grew up.”

  Darrigan didn’t look at him. “I guess I was too obvious, huh?”

  “What do you know about me? And I want the truth this time.”

  “Fine, fine. But not here. We should return to your home.”

  He tightened his grip, and they soared over the landscape. Rayne watched the earth flashing by, as they passed over cities, rivers, mountains, and even the ocean in a swift, calm motion that almost felt as if they were standing still. The beautiful sight touched Rayne’s spirit, just watching the entire world flying beneath them.

  The skyline of Langfirth appeared and drew nearer, and soon they were in the maze of tall buildings. They stopped beside a familiar building of brown stone, and out on the front curb, there was Mrs. Robins going out for a short stroll with her cane in hand.

  “Wait,” Rayne said. “I’d rather talk to you like this. You can bring me inside my flat later.”

  “That could be dangerous. The longer I leave you like this, the greater the risk you can’t go back.”

  “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you took me to begin with,” Rayne countered, still upset with his companion for deceiving him.

  Darrigan led him to the roof, a cold, flat, and dirty space of grey concrete. Stagnant water pooled here and there, and gathered pigeons took their perches along the ledges. Here the two specters landed. The moment he touched the ground, Rayne yanked his hand away from the demon’s clutches.

  “Wait, what are you—”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m close enough to my body now, there’s no danger.” He was right, as nothing happened the moment he let go. He paced along the rooftop, watching the afternoon sun as it hung above the city. “Now, talk.”

  He wasn’t so certain it was wise to make demands of a reaper, right now Rayne wanted answers, not vague platitudes.

  “When you were a child, only ten, I reckon, I came to your small village,” Darrigan said. “Someone had died. So, I came to do what I always do.”

  “Did I know this person?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Oh.”

  “You had nothing to do with this death. At least, I can’t see how you possibly could have, as you were busy when it happened. It was an accident. The house down the street caught fire, and it killed everybody inside. Most of them were good people, and passed on as they should. But one man was quite the bastard. Abusive, controlling, you know how it is. Not a good man, and when he died, he refused to move on. So I came to claim him.”

  The demon spoke of memories from long ago. He sounded almost nostalgic. Could a demon have nostalgia, Rayne wondered?

  “It was evening, I remember,” Darrigan continued. “I passed by your house and took the man’s soul, and you were out there, in the yard, all by yourself. You saw me, and you stared at me. I didn’t think much of it at first. Some people can see me, but their minds rationalize what they’ve seen. To me, you were just another one of those people. But then you called to me. You called me ‘smoke man,’ and I realized, you not only saw me, you saw me as I was. I went on my way, and took the sinner’s soul back with me to the Abyss. But you had interested me. I felt it was best you not see me again, so I kept myself hidden. And I returned every so often to watch you.”

  Rayne didn’t know what to say. “So then, you probably know more about my childhood than I do now. Assuming you’re telling the truth.”

  “Awful skeptical for a man talking to a reaper, aren’t you?”

  Rayne gave him a tight smile. “You didn’t really explain anything. I don’t understand how I could see you before becoming a Realm Wraith. And if you knew so much about my life, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I assumed you’d react badly.”

  “I’m not happy about it. I still can’t quite grasp why you’d be so fascinated. But still, assuming you are telling the truth, maybe you can answer some questions about me that I can’t?”

  “Such as?”

  “Why I’m in Hell. Whatever it is I did that I can’t remember, you must have seen it, right? You must know what happened.”

  “I have no recollection of anything like that.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not like I followed you every moment of your life. I ask you, Rayne, don’t you think I’d tell you if you did something so specific to bring about your fate?”

  Rayne still didn’t completely trust him. Something about this story didn’t quite fit to him; it sounded more like a convenient excuse for Darrigan’s fascination. The demon was still hiding something. Rayne tried to think of another approach.

  “Then if you can’t tell me that, can you tell me about some other things? Like, when you met me, out in the yard. Was my dog with me as well?”

  “Your dog?”

  “Yes, my dog. I can’t quite recall his name. Or what he looked like. But I remember spending a great deal of time with him.”

  “Do you remember when this was?”

  “Not particularly, why?”

  “Well, as long as I’ve known you, I’d never seen you with a pet. Unless you had this dog before I found you.”

  This confused Rayne. In his memory, he’d been with the dog a very long time. Or was he misremembering? Did he ever have a dog at all? Shadows of doubt crept into his mind, making him question his thoughts more and more, wondering if they even were his own thoughts. He sorted through his broken memories, mere flashes with no rhyme or reason. Himself on a large ship, sailing into fog. Did he ever take a long boat trip? He remembe
red running through a dense wood, chasing after an animal, a deer. There were faceless memories, anger at a shadow, someone who would not leave him alone.

  “Listen, you said there was no dog, but do you recall a lad my age? Something of a brute, perhaps fond of picking fights?”

  “There were many boys in your neighborhood. Was this one important to you?”

  “I don’t know. He did something, I think. I can’t remember what it was, or why it was so terrible, but have a strong feeling that—it’s as if he’s what I need to remember. Like that one fragment of my past that’s really important. I need to understand it.”

  “I’m sorry, Rayne, but I really never saw you dealing with any neighborhood bullies, or of any real traumatic childhood incidents that would be so important like that.”

  “Oh.” Rayne didn’t know what he expected the reaper to tell him. An easy answer, probably. Something that would make sense of all his memories. The feeling remained, that if he could understand something clearly, everything would go back to normal, and his mind wouldn’t be such a frightful mess anymore. Of course, even if Darrigan told him something useful, he could still be lying. Rayne would have to find the truth on his own.

  “Listen, Darrigan,” he said, staring down over the edge of the roof at all the tiny people milling around on the streets. “I’ve a favor to ask.”

  “You owe me several favors already, don’t you, boy?”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “But given you’ve kept so many secrets from me, and you bother me as you please, I think that makes us even, don’t you?”

  “Nope. But, I’ll hear you out. And you can just owe me a larger favor when the time comes.”

  “Fine. Look, I’d like to be left alone, just for a little while. A few days at most.”

  “I get it. You want to spend your waking hours not being reminded, is that it?”

  “No, it’s not just that. I mean here, and in the Abyss. I need to—I just want a little solitude, all right?”

  Darrigan raised his brow. “Do you realize what you’re asking me? You’re planning to fend for yourself in Hell.”

  “I know it sounds mad, but there’s something I want to do. But I can’t do it if it means leaving Gabriel, and Apolleta, and that other woman, to survive on their own. So that’s why I was hoping—”