Eric nodded. “We always wondered what that was.” The area in question was a nightmare to reach, full of sticker bushes and thorns. Rusty hulks of forgotten machinery lie completely overgrown with mountain laurel.
“Then there was the flood in ‘55. Sycamore Street was erased from the map when the river came over the banks. You know it as Flood Row. Ain’t nothing but empty cellars now… the houses were all washed away. I had a good friend that lived there, but they never found him. Not his body, not his shoe, nothing. Like he’d never existed at all.”
Eric shuddered, picturing a pale, wrinkled corpse slowly rotting away along the riverbank, hidden from view forever. He looked up at the sky and figured it had to be approaching four o’clock. The sun would soon creep over the horizon and dispel the lingering shadows, which suited Eric just fine. The dark seemed a little darker as of late.
“Going back hundreds of years, this place has been a beacon for catastrophe. We were founded on the back of an Indian massacre for Christ’s sake. Our streets, our houses, our churches… all built on the blood-soaked ground they once called home. We took it by force, raping their woman, killing their men, enslaving their children. Something like that has to leave a stain.”
“Do you believe that? Do you think we’re cursed?”
“Cursed? No. I think evil begets evil. One evil deed is piggy-backed by another and another, and before you know it, the whole damn thing reaches into the sky and blocks out the sun.”
“That’s fucking creepy.”
“Only if you believe it,” Ben laughed. “I’m just an old man with a lot of stories and even more opinions.”
“You should meet my friends, I think they’d like your stories.”
“If they’re friends of yours I’m sure I’d like them.”
“They’re my best friends, we do everything together. So far our summer vacation hasn’t exactly been what we’d been hoping for.”
“It’s early yet. I’m sure things will get better.”
“I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Keep them close. Good friends are hard to find. You’d give them the shirt off your back, and they’d do the same for you. You never know what might come next, but when it does, you face it together. We’re always stronger when someone is watching out for us. Don’t forget that. Always stand with them. Who knows? Maybe friendship will save us all.”
“It didn’t save my friend Charlie,” Eric said. The wound was still fresh. Tears stung his eyes, and he quickly brushed them away.
“I’m sorry about Charlie. I saw it on the evening news. Such a pointless loss of life.”
Eric turned so quickly that his neck screamed in protest. “You remember Charlie?”
“I’m an old man, Eric. I see many things, things that others don’t always see, things they forget.” Eric eyed him suspiciously. How did he remember Charlie when no else did? “I know what you’re thinking, but now is not the time for that discussion. Let’s agree that we’ll discuss it soon.”
Eric nodded his head slowly, stunned by the revelation that someone else remembered what everyone had forgotten. This meeting wasn’t by chance, he was sure of that.
“Go home Eric, get some rest. Talk to your friends. I think we all have a few things in common, don’t you?”
“You know?”
“Much more than I’d like to, my young friend.”
Ben stood, bones crackling. He placed his wrinkled hand on Eric’s shoulder and looked into his eyes knowingly. Soon you’ll know everything. The words appeared in Eric’s head like brief flashes of light. His own ability to speak had deserted him. Ben turned and walked into the night.
Eric remained motionless for another ten minutes, staring off into the dark long after Ben had disappeared. When he finally returned to his house, the sky was beginning to brighten. His mother was still on the couch, exhaling reeking waves of sour alcohol. He got a drink from the kitchen and sat in the dark, listening to the sound of crickets in the backyard while the rest of Elmview slept.
For once he didn’t feel so alone.
***
A few blocks away, Ben sat on his front porch relishing a cigarette. Things were falling into place as they had many times before. Same story with a different cast of characters. There was an Eric in every town - a Bobby, a Christopher, a Mark, an Andrew, a Jimmy.
Ben exhaled a plume of white smoke and watched it rise lazily into the air. He smiled bitterly. His call to action had been set in motion.
The Skryel had returned.
It always returned. Sometimes it took decades, sometimes only years, but it always came back, looking to dig its filthy claws into the fabric of existence and tear it to shreds. A vacant school, an abandoned factory, a forgotten house on the edge of town… always another dark, forsaken shithole where the beast could creep back into our world unnoticed, luring the innocent into its clutches.
This Earth had been on the chopping block since humans took their first tentative steps out of their caves. Thousands of other Earths had been destroyed, millions, but this one was the key, the main cog in the wheel. Remove this one, and the entire machine would shake itself to oblivion.
The Skryel would not let it go.
The creature was jealous of the human race, jealous of its emotions, enraged that it’d been unceremoniously removed from its throne. The realities of Earth had once been its home, it and all the others like it. Then humans came along and upset the balance, gaining in knowledge, inventing ways to lift the shroud of darkness surrounding them. The Skryel and its followers were banished to the dark void of the multiverse, and for eons they fought to take back what they thought was rightfully theirs.
Ben’s preparations had begun. He knew the monster was once again near, felt it entering our world through doorways in places that time had forgotten, heard its heart beating as it sank its roots deep into the Earth, becoming one with the soil and the endless caverns running beneath the living world. Now that Ben had made contact with the boys, it was his duty to prepare them for what was to come. They’d become the next unwitting tools of the Skryel’s war and they needed to be ready when the time came to fight.
Just like Eric’s father before him.
Dennis Rogers had been a good man, a smart man, and a quick learner. Ben was by his side when the Skryel used him to try and gain control. Dennis nearly fell at creature’s feet, believing in its empty promises, but before all was lost he regained his senses and saw only one way out. He squeezed the trigger of the .44 Magnum, apologized to God, and blew his brains all over the wet ground.
The doorway closed.
Now it was using Eric’s best friend to re-open that door.
Ben rubbed his temples with his thumbs. Thousands of years had passed and still, he was no closer to fully defeating his foe. All he could do was offer his knowledge to those who had to fight and hope they were strong enough to stand against the beast. If this Earth fell, all the others would wink out of existence - an infinitesimal number of lives erased in the blink of an eye.
Ben’s mind raced. There was no amount of preparation that made the upcoming battle any easier.
He went inside, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and drank deeply. Soda had become his comfort. His addiction. Although he wasn’t bound by the rules of man, he still enjoyed their creations. He downed the can and set it aside.
For three days he sat motionless, reliving past battles, developing new strategies. In the end, it would all come down to the boys. All he could do was offer his help and watch from the sidelines, hoping he’d done enough to save them.
Chapter 9
The Skryel drifted down Broad Street unseen, a smoky cloud hovering a few feet off the ground, invisible under the cover of night. Flowers withered at its passing, leaves fell from trees, brown and dead.
It knew Elmview well; it’d returned here hundreds of times over the centuries. The wall between worlds had grown extremely thin in this rural part of Pennsylvania, allowing the birth of so many s
pecial individuals.
So many doors to open… so many ways to bring chaos and destruction to everything it touched.
Most realities had fallen without a fight, but the disgusting human race refused to bow down and worship their rightful god. The Skryel knew Danny was a very powerful adversary, and Eric an extension of that power. Using them was a risk it had to take.
I will not be scared off by a child.
Yet it was scared, terrified in fact.
The boy and his friends were gaining strength without even realizing it, attaining powers they never knew they had. They’d become part of the struggle, like it or not. Eric was the wild card. Although not a doorway, the knowledge of his foe had been written in his DNA, passed down from father to son.
A stray cat crossed the street, pausing to nibble on trash it found in the gutter. It spied the Skryel, arched its back, and hissed. Animals were different. They could see the monster in its true form.
The Skryel offered a hiss in return as the cat’s eyes rained bloody tears. Its heart exploded in its chest, killing the animal before it had a chance to fall over.
If only humans were so easy.
The Indian massacre had taught the creature a lesson. Humans were a power-hungry bunch, always looking for advantages to better themselves. With a little coaxing, they slaughtered the natives like sheep and claimed their land and possessions as if they were their own. Some men worshiped the Skryel as a god, praying to it for guidance, which the monster offered willingly. Once the deed was done, they’d turned their back on their god and found a way to send it back into the abyss.
Their loyalty had been a mirage.
The Skryel floated silently up and down empty streets, killing rats and nested birds, taking its anger out on easy targets that couldn’t fight back. A beagle ran from its little wooden house and jumped up on the chain-link fence, barking viciously. The Skryel tried to kill the animal but failed. Its connection to humans was far too strong.
“I’ll come back for you, pest,” it rumbled.
The creature seethed with anger. The bulb of a nearby streetlight exploded in a shower of sparks. Behind closed doors of darkened houses, babies awoke in the night, screaming, feeling the Skryel’s presence beneath their bedroom windows.
“I’ll come back for you all.”
The monster wanted desperately to invade one of the boy’s dreams, drag them into one of the dead places, feed on their fear, but the energy required to do so was counterproductive. Scare tactics only worked for so long - a perfect way to create paranoia - but it’d always been a good place to start. What it really needed was a body count, like the display at the intersection. The deaths of innocent bystanders was the icing on the cake. The beast could intercept their essence and store it in the void, erasing them from memory, causing a paradox that often worked to its advantage.
The night passed quickly. There was never enough time. Every morning, the sun crept over the horizon and the filthy human race went about their day with a smile on their face, unaware that their extinction could only be just around the corner.
The Skryel stopped and sniffed the air. It detected a familiar scent, an energy it instantly recognized. A hearty laugh boomed out of the darkness. The smoky cloud drew tighter until the creature had a form, that of an old man, just like his nemesis who sat a few feet away smoking a cigarette and chuckling to himself.
“The ever-obedient watchdog remains at his post,” the Skryel mocked.
“Watching for intruders,” Ben replied, saluting his enemy with a can of soda.
“It’s been some time, Guardian. I’d hoped you’d be dead and buried by now.”
“You know better than that. Every time you show your face, I’ll be right there waiting. I figured you’d eventually take the hint, but you’re obviously not very bright. How many times do I have to send you back to the void to get the point across?” Ben flicked his cigarette, hitting the Skryel in the shoulder and covering him in hot ash. He chuckled and sipped his soda.
“You’ll pay for that,” the Skryel grumbled.
“So full of hate,” Ben said. “When will you realize your idle threats mean nothing to me?”
“Have you grown so senile that you’ve forgotten I’ve killed off your entire race? The runts of the litter are all gone now.”
“As are yours… eradicated like the vermin you are. I’ve found your doorway, just as I always have, and I’m making sure it stays closed. These people will stand against you. I’ve grown accustomed to this race and their ways, seen what beauty they’re capable of and what sacrifices they’ll make to protect their own. As long as I’m here, you’ll never have what you want.”
“Don’t be so sure of yourself. I’m growing more powerful every day. I’ll have these rats eating out of the palm of my hand.”
“I seem to recall this same speech before Atlantis fell. Another failure in a never-ending string of failures.” Ben grabbed another can of soda from a cooler. “You can destroy as much as you want, try to control them through fear, but in the end, you’re just going to unite them. They’ll rise against you as they have in the past.”
“You talk like them, you look like them, you try to blend in with them, but you are not one of them. This masquerade is pitiful… it shows your true weakness.”
Ben gave the man a thumb’s up and smiled.
The Skryel’s human form shifted and broke apart, returning to the smoky mass it’d been previously. The Guardian had a point, but the Skryel would never show its fear. Danny was one of the most powerful doorways it’d ever encountered, the only other being nearly two thousand years ago. In a faraway land, the Skryel’s influence led to the alienation of a very formidable man, one that had been nailed to a cross and left to die. Even in his death throes, the man would not betray his people. Instead, these stupid humans came to worship him, write books about him, sing songs in his honor, build shrines in his memory. Its attempt to gain control had failed miserably, and the man’s following grew only stronger after his death. The Skryel despised him for it.
“This banter has grown tiresome.”
“Which is just a cowardly way of saying the sun will soon rise,” Ben laughed. “So strong and powerful, yet hiding from the light like the vampire you are. Forgive me if I find that rather amusing.”
“This is only the beginning, Guardian.”
“I’m sure of it, Shadowking, and I’ll be right here waiting.”
The Skryel vanished.
Ben nervously lit another cigarette and leaned back in his chair. The Skryel knew how important the boy was - the most powerful doorway since Christ - and Danny’s choices would dictate the outcome. One wrong move could signal the end of everything.
It was Ben’s job to make sure it didn’t come to that.
***
Danny walked alone.
No matter how he tried, he couldn’t make sense of what the man had told him in The Gray. Other worlds, other realities, other versions of himself and his friends.
I wasn’t supposed to be born, he thought. What does that make me? A freak? A monster?
“Not at all,” a voice said. “You’re more important than you could possibly imagine.”
“What did you say?” Danny asked. He didn’t recognize the man standing nearby. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ben, and I’m here to help you.”
“Help me… with what?”
“The Skryel.”
“The what?”
“The devil that visits you in your dreams. The one who killed your friend. I can help you. I’ve had some practice.”
“How do you know about that? What if you’re trying to trick me? How do I know you didn’t trade one face for another?
“Do I scare you? Have I given the impression that I’m trying to control you?” Danny shook his head. There was something very strange about the man, but his energy wasn’t at all like the creature in The Gray. “The Skryel can’t hide behind its human face… it radiates evil, gives
itself away. Certainly, a boy with your talents can feel the difference.”
My talents? What have I got myself into?
“None of this is your fault, Danny. You’ve been chosen, that’s all.”
“Are you reading my thoughts? How are you doing that? And how do you my name?”
“None of that is important right now. We’re short on time. I’ll answer all your questions, but not here, not now. We need to speak privately, just you and your friends. Do you understand me?”
“No, not one word. You show up out of the blue and expect me to just do whatever you ask?”
“All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to explain what’s happening. I know what you’re going through… I’ve seen it before. You’re a target, Danny. I can show you how to protect yourself.”
“This is crazy! Why won’t you…”
“Enough,” Ben interrupted. “Talk to Eric, he knows where to find me.”
“Eric? How the hell do you know Eric?”
Ben smiled. The boy was full of questions; his inquisitive nature would make him easier to teach. Danny was confused, as he should be, but Ben needed to make him realize that he was trapped in a tug of war between the darkness and the light, and with any war, there would be casualties.
“Please just do as I ask. We’ll have this discussion soon, I promise. Until then, keep your friends close. The Skryel will use them as weapons against you, try to weaken your defenses and make it easier to gain control.”
“Is this actually happening?”
“I’m afraid so, son. I understand you’re scared and confused, but you can’t ignore this. Do you understand?”
Danny nodded.
“Until then, stay in the light. The beast is strongest in the shadows.”
“What the hell do I do at night?”
“Anything you can, Danny. Anything you can.”
Danny blinked and Ben was gone.
My god, did that just happen?
Yes, a voice answered. Ben’s voice. Inside his head.
The Darkening (A Coming of Age Horror Novel) (The Great Rift Book 1) Page 13