Into the Void

by Amanda Frame

  ~

  After I was done vomiting the words I was afraid would tarnish me in her eyes, she just looked at me, her mouth slack and eyebrows drawn together. I couldn’t quite place the emotion on her face. Confusion? Anger? Disbelief? I scratched my cheek and stared at the tile cooling my legs underneath me, not wanting to have to gauge her reaction. She didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, I really need you to say something right now,” I stammered, the anticipation twisting my stomach into knots. She thinks I’m crazy.

  “Are…are you sure that you weren’t dreaming or anything?” Her voice wavered. I still couldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Yes, I’m positive.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Becca said slowly, and the relief that flooded my head nearly drowned me. Her obsession with anything paranormal probably played into her acceptance of my story. She stood and reached for my hands. I numbly accepted her grasp and she led me to the couch. The sweat and tears dampening my clothes seeped into the fabric, but I didn’t have the energy to care.

  “Could you be seeing things? Like from the concussion? Or what’s that thing soldiers get? Like when they come back from war?” She bombarded me with questions, most of which I didn’t know the answers to.

  “PTSD.” The memory of a documentary on the war in Iraq surfaced from the recesses of my brain. “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “I doubt it.” My eyes met hers, pleading her to believe me. “Bec, you don’t understand. These visions or whatever feel as real as you and me sitting here right now. But it can’t be, it can’t. But it’s like I can reach out and grab it, or step into it.” I made a grasping motion with my hand, picturing Brian’s gaunt face.

  “Maybe you should.” She whispered the words like she had trouble getting them out. Her eyes met mine, skepticism creasing them at the corners. Her fingers tapped on her chin. “Okay, I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER 8

  ANNA

  I sat on my bed at home Tuesday morning after taking Mr. Marshall’s trash out for him. I hugged my knees to my chest. It would be another half hour before Becca came to pick me up for school.

  Her idea had been to make one of these visions or hallucinations or whatever it was happen again so we could verify that it was triggered by my headaches, which was what I was hoping for. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t a coward and didn’t believe that there was any way it was real, because that would make me crazy.

  We were still in the Google research phase of how exactly to do this, but I figured since it had involved Brian, being around him would help the process along. On Monday I had discreetly followed him between classes so I could figure out what his schedule was.

  The only time Brian was not surrounded by his posse was fifth period, which he had free. He had gone to a fairly secluded part of the library, which I thought was really weird. Brian, going to the library to study by himself instead of hanging out in the cafeteria with his friends? That was what most people did during free periods anyway. No one actually studied. But he hadn’t been studying. He had been drawing strange diagrams, which I had realized were football plays. I hoped this was a regular activity for him, because it seemed like the only time he was alone.

  I didn’t have fifth period free but I planned on skipping class and going to sit a few tables away from him in the library on the off chance that I would get a headache and it would trigger an episode. This wasn’t in the plan that Becca and I were concocting, or really any kind of plan at all, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to just give it a shot.

  The hope that he wouldn’t notice me was pathetic. I wished that Becca was coming with me but I hadn’t told her what I was doing and she had advised me to not do anything until we had a real plan mapped out. I felt guilty about going against her suggestion but I saw an opportunity so I was going to take it.

  During first and second period, concentration eluded me. The notes I had taken didn’t make sense, and I hadn’t done the homework for either class. I didn’t care even though I probably should have, but I just couldn’t summon the energy. The bell signaling the end of fourth period made me jump. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to follow Brian to the library. I crept through the halls like a burglar, afraid of being caught. Deep down, I had been hoping that this would fall through.

  Slouching over my chemistry textbook, I pretended to read. All the words and diagrams looked like gibberish. Nerves rattled my brain and my heart pounded. I peered at the back of Brian’s head through the curtain of my hair. This was stupid. Nothing was going to happen. I sighed and decided to leave.

  I pushed my chair back but my foot slipped. I slammed my pinkie toe hard against the leg of the metal table. Hot pain shot up my foot. I sucked air through clenched teeth and looked down to check for injury, but froze halfway bent over.

  Something horrible started to happen.

  I felt a heaviness in the air, an uncomfortable pressure in my bones. It sent electric tingles across my skin. Fear gripped me, and I held onto the arms of my chair, knuckles turning white and terror beating in my chest. The table in front of Brian was gone, along with the chair he’d been sitting it. It seemed as though he was sitting on nothing, floating in the center of the room. Empty bookshelves surrounded us, and I watched as rust ate gaping holes in the dull metal.

  My breath rattled as I tried to push away the panic that was clawing its way up my throat. I focused on what I was seeing, trying to detach myself from the fear like just watching a scary movie, but it looked so real. Real enough that it felt I could step into this vision, or whatever it was, and become a part of it. Maybe you should. Becca’s voice resonated in my head and gave me courage.

  One step. Dust plumed up from the carpet, disturbed by my shoe. Two steps. The floor creaked under my feet. Each step was more difficult than the last, like mud was sucking my feet to the ground. Three steps. Closer.

  Brian turned toward me and I froze mid-step, but he looked right through me with confused eyes, which were sunken and surrounded by dark circles. Could he see me? Could he see this? My eyes scanned the room and my heart thudded at the possibility.

  My hands shook and a horrible dread seeped into my bones. A black, inky hand wrapped around the edge of the bookcase. The courage bled out of my veins. Eagle-like talons protruded from seven fingers that raked deep scratches into the metal. A foot snaked its way around the corner, its claws just as terrifying as the three-inch ones on the thing’s hands.

  The creature rounded the corner and I stared at its black form in disbelieving terror. My mouth went slack and I clenched my hands so tightly that my fingernails dug into my palms.

  The thing was about four feet tall. Its claws scraped the floor, tearing up the dirty carpet as it stalked toward Brian. I stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Its legs were thin at the bottom and became muscular at the top, connecting to its impossibly skinny waist. The knobby knees bent the wrong way like a giant, creeping bird. I wanted to look away, but the terrified curiosity was overwhelming. The creature’s shoulders were broad, and an elongated head sat on top of a short neck.

  It turned toward me. The huge nostrils set deep within its face flared as it stretched its neck forward, like it could smell me. I took a step backward. Glowing yellow eyes narrowed at me and it cocked its head to the side, as if it were confused by my presence. I tightened my whole body, fully expecting it to jump at me and tear my throat out with its giant talons. But it didn’t. It turned its face back toward Brian and dropped on all fours, walking closer and closer to him.

  Brian began to look confused, peering around and blinking like he was trying to clear fog from his vision. The creature reached him and put its hand on Brian’s, standing on two legs again. Brian rubbed his free hand over the other and it passed through the monster’s paw. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

  Brian’s skin started turning pale and the creature began to change, getting scalier like a black
snake. Its body contorted, becoming more human-like and less deformed. Brian was wasting away, flesh and clothes draining color and skin loosening, drooping off his bones like a shirt on a hanger. His hair was becoming wiry and thin. I could see his eyes sinking further into his skull and his lips cracking.

  I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt a scream bouncing around my lungs, and I tried to hold it back, but a wail escaped my clenched teeth. Brian turned to look back at me, his skin turning to leather on his skull, mummifying.

  The creature’s head snapped up and it stalked toward me. I backed up and put my hands out in a feeble attempt to shield myself. No, no, no! This wasn’t happening. I needed to get away, back to reality. I squeezed my eyes shut focused all my energy on the library. The library. Bookshelves, nasty green carpet, metal tables and buzzing florescent lights.

  I scurried backward, arms still outstretched and eyes glued shut, feeling like I pushed through a thick bubble. I fell flat on my back and opened my eyes, heart slamming against my ribcage.

  I was in the library, full bookcases towering over me like comforting walls blocking out the nightmare. A huge sob of relief escaped me and I sank my fingers into the dirty carpet, reveling in its scratchy consistency. I looked up and Brian was turned around in his chair, squinting at me with suspicious eyes. He abruptly stood up, knocking his chair over, and rushed out of the library.

  A faint shadow skittered after him.

  CHAPTER 9

  JOHN

  I didn’t tell my parents about the incident on my brother’s birthday. I was too scared. But eventually they noticed something was wrong. How could they not? It happened again. And again. Publicly. I was the only one who could see it. Sometimes there were people there. Dim, ghostly people.

  At the park once, a little girl on the jungle gym fell and screeched in pain. After the world fell apart this time, the little girl and her mother remained, their incorporeal forms mimicking their actions in the real world. Even through the hazy shroud that surrounded them, I could see the intense protectiveness and determination on the mother’s face as she cradled her child’s bleeding head, and the pain and wide-eyed terror in the little girl’s eyes.

  Sometimes I would go months without these episodes, and sometimes it would happen a few times a week. There was no predicting it, but there had to be a commonality. The fear that overcame me when it happened was paralyzing. And not being able to see what was around me in reality, I had trouble knowing how I should move or behave. Was my mother talking to me? Was someone about to walk right into me? There was too much confusion and emotion for me to fake normalcy.

  Two years after the incident on my brother’s birthday and I had begun to have a semblance of control over what was happening to me. I would force myself to calm down and remember what the world had looked like a moment ago. I would hold on to that memory so intensely that eventually I could force the world to come partly back into focus. I would see a mirage of the real world overlapping the washed-out, crumbling landscape around me. Sometimes I could even hear some of the people on the other side, their voices warped and metallic, like listening to someone through a soup can on the other side of a string.

  I hung on for almost another two years. I was getting used to it. I was better at hiding it. For a while. Until something else happened. Something worse.

  My dad and I were at the bank. We were standing behind the velvet rope, waiting for the next available teller to call us over. One of the customers was arguing with a teller. I could make out one side of the conversation. The teller was trying to hand him a stack of bills and some change, but the man was yelling that he had more money than that in his account. She was trying to assure him that he did not. He was becoming increasingly angry; I could see the veins bulging in his neck and his face turning bright red. Finally he lost it and smacked the teller’s hand away. The bills floated lazily to the ground and the coins dinged loudly on the metal countertop, reverberating through the otherwise silent room.

  My heart skipped as it happened again, but it felt different this time. A chilling breeze hit my face as a comforting warmth heated my back. The once sky-blue carpet faded and tore. The bright aluminum counters in front of the tellers were tarnished and dull. The air was thick, suffocating. All the details disappeared; pens, pamphlets, nameplates, and of course, the people. Except one. The angry customer.

  Something was wrong. I could feel my hackles rise.

  There was movement out of the corner of my eye and I immediately regretted looking. An impossibly thin, tall, humanoid creature moved towards the man. I could see the shadow of bones through its grey skin. Its prominent ribcage barreled out of a torso that was unnaturally long. Its face was elongated too, like someone had taken a human skull and stretched it like putty. Sharp cheekbones broke through the skin beneath sockets that held no eyes to speak of.

  The thing floated above floor smoothly, its toes dragging on the carpet, its skeletal arms stretched forward, twitching slightly as though in anticipation.

  It reached the man, who was oblivious to everything going on around him. Long, knobby fingers with too many knuckles reached delicately towards him, and wrapped around his arm. The man twitched and looked down, almost aware for a fraction of a second, before looking up again.

  Muscles began to form underneath the thing’s skin, its bony form becoming more solid, while at the same time sucking the man dry. He withered and aged as the creature became stronger. Its skin stretched and faint red webbing spread across its surface, like a drop of blood on a napkin.

  I was wrong when I believed that the sight before me could get no more horrifying.

  It looked at me.

  I finally was able to scream.

  CHAPTER 10

  ANNA

  I sat on floor of the library, stunned. What had just happened? I wiped my shaky palms, suddenly slick with sweat, on my jeans. I felt paralyzed, unable to get up. Nausea rushed into my belly and the taste of bile crept into my throat. I knew this had been real—there was no denying it anymore—but it was more terrifying than I had imagined. I didn’t realize the deserted world I’d been seeing wasn’t actually empty after all.

  Becca. I needed to talk to Becca. How much time had gone by? Was the period over yet? My sense of time was completely out of whack. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, trying to slow my ragged breaths. The glow of the screen told me it was 1:32, a mere twelve minutes into fifth period.

  I willed my legs to peel me off the floor and saw silver sparks float across my vision as the blood rushed back to my head. Grabbing my backpack, I stumbled through the bookcases and out of the library, numb. I had forgotten about the pain in my foot.

  Talking to Becca right now was out of the question. I imagined swinging the door of her history class open with a bang and dragging her into the hallway, screaming that I needed someone to talk to or I was going to lose my freaking mind. That was not an option.

  My boots clomped down the hallway, empty but for the occasional forgotten papers fluttering near the lockers. What should I do? Where should I go? I tucked my frazzled hair behind my ears and clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself not to break into a sprint to escape the memories of the library that were burned into my skull.

  Hearing footsteps approaching from an intersecting hallway, I ducked into the girls’ bathroom that was only a few yards away. The door swung shut with a clack and I cringed, hoping nobody had heard. I stood frozen for a few seconds until I was confident the footsteps had passed me.

  I pressed my hands into the cool white cinderblocks. I supposed I could text Becca. It was likely she would respond; she was an excellent under-desk texter. I thumbed a message with clammy fingers. Need to talk asap, meet u at your car after school. Waiting for Becca at her car seemed like a reasonable idea, though I still had almost an hour to kill. Missing class was becoming a hobby.

  I snuck out of the school like my life depended on not making any noise, vaguely wondering if my grades were going to s
uffer if I kept skipping school. Probably, but it was a distant concern. I made a beeline for Becca’s car, seeing from a distance that the lock on the inside of the front door was popped up. I made a mental note to reprimand her for leaving her car unlocked later, but I was grateful for her absent-mindedness. Exhaustion had crept over me in my short walk from the library to the car. I slid into the front seat and wriggled my way into the back, lying face-up across the backseat. Staring at the ceiling, I tried to push all thoughts from my head, and eventually fell into a fitful sleep, waves of exhaustion overtaking me.

  I jolted awake at the sound of the car door slamming. It had gotten crazy hot as the sun had moved the parking spot out of the shade. Becca climbed into the front seat. She turned to look at me, that all-too-familiar expression of concern written on her face. I sat up, my head pounding.

  “Talk to me,” she said expectantly. I took a few deep breaths, steeling myself for the possibility that she wasn’t going to believe me. My mouth felt sticky, words frozen in the back of my throat. She waited patiently.

  “I…” My words were cut off by a loud bang on the window. Both Becca and I yelped in surprise and my head whipped toward the sound. Brian’s hands were pressed to the glass, the window fogging around his palms. His eyes were wild, staring at me with an intensity that could only be described as madness. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, as though forming words was beyond him. He set his lips in a hard line and peeled his hands from the window, walking quickly through the parking lot. We stared, baffled, Brian’s sweaty handprints lingering on the glass.

  Well now she has to believe me.

  “What the hell was that?” Becca asked, hand clutched to her chest like she was preventing her heart from jumping out. I had a feeling that her confused expression was mirrored on my face.

  “I…I don’t know.”