Crocodile Queen

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Crocodile Queen Page 5

by Phil Armstrong


  “It's a long story, but I'll try to keep it short for you, I live within the Third Realm, another world or a parallel universe to Earth, which is the Fifth Realm. Your boyfriend Dan, has visited me in the Third Realm, he knows it well. My life has been dedicated to protecting this realm from the constant attempts of invading evil forces who'd like nothing more than to eradicate me. I've struck an unusual accord with the large crocodiles that inhabit the river where I live. In my realm their exceptionally intelligent and evolved creatures, more intelligent and cosmically aware than the local inhabitants realize. They protect me, guard me, and keep me safe.” Her eyes lifted from the table in defiance, “It's because of this strange accord that the locals call me the Crocodile Queen. They make up all sorts of strange and fancy tales, but enough about me, I still have to tell you why I've compromised your safety and why it's so vitally important that you help Dan."

  * * * * *

  Across town, Dan had already eaten breakfast, he’d talked to Ally and decided to go back to bed to sleep off his restless night. His body felt sore, and he felt relieved that Ally had cancelled their morning plans. Liz had already left their apartment anticipating another day with Brian, and a further chance to build upon their relationship. Dan had promised his mother that he would focus on his homework, but he fully intended to sleep off his restless night. Once Liz had left, it didn't take Dan long before his exhausted body lapsed into a deep restful sleep.

  As the fog inside Dan’s head cleared, he found himself in a forest surrounded by lush green leaves; he could feel the heat in the air and his sticky sweat beading upon his skin. He heard the birds calling from above and the sound of their wings as they flapped their feathers furiously. His senses were heightened as he focused on the sound of a common fly buzzing by his shoulder. A gentle breeze swayed the trees ahead, making that soothing rustling noise, and providing a welcoming cool wave of air. His eyes caught a slight movement to his right as a small monkey hung from a limb grasping on to the tree’s rough bark. Dan noticed a tingling sensation occurring in his feet, it was subtle at first and easy to overlook, but for some reason he felt it again causing him to glance down. At first, he saw the occasional wisp of gray in the air, like the string of a small cloud rushing by his feet. The birds above took flight, delivering a noisy protest as the monkey scurried away too. What started as gray wisps now became thicker and soon the clouds of fog strung together forming ground cover. Within seconds, the density had increased; Dan could not see his feet. Below his ankles Dan was now standing in thick rushing fog. What was this? Where had this come from? The trees started to wilt and die, lush green leaves shriveled up in front of his eyes. The leaves curled up before turning a nasty brown color, blowing away as dust in the wind.

  Suddenly, the forest went deafeningly quiet, as the daylight rapidly faded, plunging the forest into complete darkness as if nightfall had come in an instant. Dan was alone, scared, and disoriented. He couldn't see anything around him, and the quietness was deafening. His feet felt unusually heavy, as if anchored to the ground by some immovable force. He heard a faint but recognizable noise, like dirt being shuffled around by an idle boot. He glanced down at his feet realizing the ground had started to move, to his surprise the soil opened to reveal a dark ominous shape. Dan tried to jump back, to jump away from the emerging shape, but his feet seemed fastened as if glued to the forest floor. He struggled vigorously, trying to twist and buck his terrified body to move away.

  Suddenly a pair of dirty, soil stained, muscular arms shot out from the dirt, oversized hands and fingers with long sharp fingernails attacked him. These were not human hands, with Dan’s limited vision; he could just make out their shape. They looked like the hands of a reptile or a beast from a low-grade horror movie. Like weeds growing in fertile soil, numerous hands and arms started to burst through from the dense soil covering the forest floor. Dan panicked; he struggled with greater ferocity to free himself from his seemingly invisible restraints. His futile attempts to run had caused him to lose his balance falling to the ground and offering himself to the mercy of the clutching, grasping hands, that lay in wait.

  He wriggled and twisted, but the dirt covered razor-like nails scratched and sliced at his body, tearing at his flesh while wounding his legs, arms, and abdomen. Dan screamed in pain, he needed to stop this, he needed to break the cycle and wake up immediately! Dan instinctively knew this was an uncomfortable dream, but with each progressive nightmare, his experience was becoming more realistic. There were no fuzzy details, no glossed over parts, and no gaps in the experience, his senses were crystal clear; he could hear sounds acutely, he could smell his complex surroundings, and he could see everything in vivid color and clarity. It scared him.

  The disturbing part to his evolving nightmares was he could feel the pain inflicted upon him, as if the pain was real. Dan struggled to wake himself, writhing and tossing between his sweat soaked sheets. Finally, damaged, wounded, and bleeding, the slashing of claw-like nails ceased, the arms withdrew back into the dirt of the forest floor. Dan lay silent, he was in excruciating pain, his bleeding motionless body resting upon the forest floor. Then he heard something he would never forget, in the pitch-black darkness of the forest, the deafening silence was broken by a deep guttural howl that reverberated for miles around. It was unmistakable, sending a wave of fresh panic racing through Dan's body. Dan recognized the howl instantly, it was a Karcon, and judging from the howl, he knew it was a big one. Jolted by the terrifying sound, Dan managed to force open his eyes, he stared at the flush mounted light fixture positioned in the center of his bedroom ceiling. He focused upon its shape desperately trying to get his eyes to work, like adjusting an out of focus camera lens.

  Gradually Dan regained his senses, he rubbed his face brushing the sleepy residue away from the corners of his tired eyes, that's when he noticed his hands were stained red with dried blood. Dan leapt out of bed to examine himself in his bedroom mirror. As he landed on his bedroom floor his leg gave out beneath him, a shooting pain surged into his hip with his body buckling from its own weight, crumbling to the floor. He yelped as he fell into a messy heap unable to stand. Dan stared at his legs, they were crimson red covered in scratches and deep painful wounds that spiraled up from his ankles to his stomach, "What the hell?" he questioned. Dan was covered in scratches, cuts, and unsightly oozing wounds, "Jesus!" he said, hauling his limp body to its feet again. Dan made it to the bathroom where he examined his whole body trying desperately to clean himself up. Examining his tired face in the mirror, he noticed a small scratch on his cheek, below the dark circles forming below his eyes. He looked awful and he knew it. How would he be able to keep this from his mother and Ally? What the hell was going on with him and how could he stop this?

  Dan’s dreams were getting scarier and more realistic each night. A macabre thought raced through his mind; if he were to die in one of his dreams, would he really die? - "Damn," he said out loud, splashing water on his face and staring at himself in the mirror, "I'm in really bad shape here."

  Dan spent the rest of the day dressing his wounds and figuring out the best way to conceal them using his clothes. For the first time in a long while he felt scared, his thoughts turned to Raj. How he longed to walk across the hall, flop down in one of those comfy chairs, and have a good conversation about this with Raj - he would know what to do. He was alone, and he missed Raj terribly. Dan couldn't talk to anyone about this, what would he say? He could see it now, telling someone that he's visited other worlds, talked to animals, fought dangerous evil beasts, and helped kill witches! He'd soon find himself living within a padded cell, likely drugged up to protect the world and himself. Dan knew he'd have to fight this, but how?

  * * * * *

  In fourteenth century Japan, a powerful warlord ordered a woman killed, she lived in a remote section of a small village now known today as Yokohama. The villagers were afraid of this woman, she reportedly mumbled in a strange language, collected herbs, flowers, bark, w
eeds, and animal parts from the surrounding forests. The local children were afraid to look at her, for she would bark at them when they came near, she was afraid of their innocence. After numerous complaints, the warlord decided to act, and ordered his guards to remove and eradicate this woman, restoring harmony to the village, and its inhabitants. No one knew her history; when she first arrived on the outskirts of the village, nobody knew her family lineage, or where she’d travelled from. Nobody took the time to ask, but stories about this woman soon became plentiful as the fear and paranoia that surrounded this mysterious woman grew. It was reported that she had powers, evil powers.

  This legend is still told today, three guards were dispatched to deal with the woman. They confronted her at home while she ground herbs into a powder; the use for this powder was never established. Some say the powder was to incite delirious behavior, but information surrounding this poor mysterious woman is now unsubstantiated. The three guards forced the woman to the river's edge where she was drowned in an unprovoked attack. The village created a song about this welcomed event, but the tune has long since been forgotten. The lyrics described how she screamed out in pain and struggled wildly as she protested her innocence when the cold clear water engulfed her. For a while parents would threaten their children with her evil spirit and the imminent prospect of their dreams being haunted if they continued to misbehave. An old manuscript hung in a village tearoom showing an illustration of a specter hovering over a sleeping child while haunting their dreams. As time passed, and memories faded, the song was totally forgotten, the manuscript was reduced to ashes, lost in a great fire, and the legend of the strange woman was forgotten. Today it sounds ridiculous, but there was a time, in a fourteenth century Japanese village, where the prospect of a visit from the Ochitacki was a serious threat.

  Japanese warlords, and their ability to exercise control over vast parts of the country, were common throughout Japan's storied and complex history. The warlord who sanctioned the killing was found murdered in his bed, his throat was cut from ear to ear, and he suffered excruciating wounds in the form of deep slashes inflicted across his legs, back, and abdomen. Strangely, his hands and feet were severed. It was strange for two reasons; first, it was a mark of the highest disrespect. Second, these horrific wounds, and mutilations, were conducted with the utmost skill and stealth. As the warlord slept, two of his concubines were soundly asleep within the same bed. Neither heard the attack nor felt the victim’s frantic struggles. Neither was alerted to the atrocities occurring under their very noses within the bed they shared. When they awoke that morning, the warlord’s blood-soaked bed jolted them from their slumber, screaming to alert the guards. The guards ever watchful vigil had been breached. No sword or weapon could be found within the warlord’s room and no forced entry. To preserve the warlord’s honor the details of his demise were suppressed, unfortunately, both concubines were killed to cover up the atrocities committed.

  A story was immediately fabricated, and quickly circulated to cover up the failings of the royal guard; the new story pointed the finger at the neighboring warlord, it was said that he successfully dispatched a stealthy assassin; this fabrication initiated a fifty-year war. Many of the residents of Yokohama secretly believed in a very different story. In quiet corners, darkened alleys, and secluded tearooms, they would often talk of Ochitacki; the spirit ghost who attacked the warlord through his dreams. Stories and legends always evolve over time, often forgotten, and then resurrected in a different form; it is part of our culture and becomes engrained within our history, where different generations have replayed the same common themes. Elora possessed a cruel and vengeful soul; when witches from her coven were killed, she took pleasure in exacting her revenge, inflicting fatal wounds while her victims slept. She would possess them, slowly infiltrating their dreams, and turning them into their own worst nightmare. Every creature needs to sleep, and even though they may try to resist it, she will inevitably get another chance to attack her victim. Elora would gradually gain more power until she controlled her victim's unconscious mind. Then she would architect scenarios within the mind where actual harm was manifested upon the victim’s body.

  The strong of body and the young of age, were best equipped to fight the forces that Elora exerted, their bodies would be covered in bruises and scratches. Inevitably, as the body suffers this pain it weakens, it demands sleep to heal the trauma, and in that weakened state, Elora would strike again. She would inflict deep cuts, this would be followed by infections, often more severe trauma would occur such as the cutting of throats, strangulation, and decapitation, all resulting in certain death. Few had the power to muster an adequate defense against Elora. When a good white witch grew in power, Elora would make it her obsession to locate the white witch, no matter what realm she would reside in or travel to, Elora would be determined to eradicate this potentially growing threat. Elora had heard of a new white witch, from an impressive bloodline that would inevitably grow in power. Humans and citizens across the realms were often predictable, more alike than they cared to admit, when an individual starts to emerge blessed with special powers, inevitably they would use those powers for good, for the betterment of their kind. People of all realms like to celebrate these acts through song, fables, and artwork. Eventually, their fascination with good will lead the dark forces to the location and often identity of such individuals. When they’re found, they’re systematically eliminated before their powers can grow dangerously strong.

  It came to Elora’s attention that a white witch, an established powerful witch, had moved across realms, she could move effortlessly along timelines and her powers were growing, she’d managed to carefully conceal her identity and location. Elora had decided the best way to locate this white witch was to follow the chain of people associated with her stories; it was this strategy that led her to Dan.

  * * * * * *

  It was colder in the apartment than Dan liked, but he decided to take full advantage of this, instead of turning up the heat, a normal reaction on a damp windy day, he decided to use the weather as a factor in his concealment plan. Dan covered his battered, scratched, and bruised body, with multiple layers of clothing, culminating in a thick bulky woolen sweater. When Liz finally got home, Dan hid his injuries underneath his clothing layers until she turned up the heat. Dan tried to act as normal as he could, before retreating to his bedroom, making a big show about working on his school assignment. It was starting to get late and Dan was barely managing to keep his eyes open, he could feel the panic rising within his body, he was fighting his sheer exhaustion and his immune system was weakened.

  It was around 6.45pm, the light was fading rapidly outside when Dan heard an unexpected knock at the door. Feeling sore, and riddled with pain, Dan could barely stand to see who it was. He tried to control his breathing, straining to hear the muffled conversation taking place when Liz answered the door, she was talking with a visitor. When Liz got excited, her voice raised both in tone and in volume. Although her voice was muffled, Dan could tell she sounded excited as she welcomed a visitor, the conversation had a familiar tone, like Liz knew this person - who was it? Dan strained to hear the words, but it was all too muffled. Dan could hear the pounding of his own blood as it coursed through the veins of his battered, swollen, ears.

  There was a soft tap on Dan's bedroom door, then Liz opened it cautiously, "Dan, you have a visitor," said Liz, peering around a half-opened door with a silly awkward grin plastered upon her face.

  Liz continued to open Dan’s bedroom door, Dan's eyes widened, he was not expecting visitors or the sight that unfolded before him.

  * * * * *

  The Fifth Realm - Earth

  Chapter 3: Back in Business.

  Westtown, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.

  “Life is full of unexpected gifts, just untie the ribbons.”

  Dan stared through his open bedroom door, squinting his eyes and trying to reconcile what he saw. It was Ally, looking pretty and shy, on a Sunday
evening visiting his apartment unannounced. Ally never came over to the apartment; she’d gone out of her way to avoid meeting his mother and made every possible excuse to avoid such a visit. Why was she here? Was something seriously wrong? All Dan could muster as a response while entrenched in his shocked state was, "Hi Ally, what are you doing here?"

  Ally improvised, "I swear he'd leave his head somewhere if it weren’t permanently attached," she said laughing, and turning her sparkling eyes towards Liz, "remember it's been raining all day, so we decided to spend an hour tonight going through the school assignment, remember, so we don't look like total idiots tomorrow at school. We both agreed this morning to wait until the rain stopped, and I said I would come over to your place when it eased up - remember? You don't, do you?"

  "Err," Dan didn't remember at all, in fact he was completely sure that this was a lie, but he didn’t know how to react. The words seemed to spill from his mouth uncontrollably, "Oh sure, I remember now," he said, unconvincingly. Liz gave him that knowing smile, for she knew that Ally had the measure of Dan already, and she really liked Ally. It’s a tricky dynamic when a girl starts to get between a mother and her son.

 

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