by D. M. Pratt
“I don’t understand how, I just know he took her right after you left her house. She and Beau, body and soul, are trapped at Thibodaux,” Aria said.
Eve listened to the words but logic was not attached to them. At least no logic she was ready to accept.
“You must know how hard it is for me to understand much less accept these insane things you are saying,” Eve said. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. She could feel the rush of fear and concern for her friend and helplessness knowing she was at fault for dragging Cora into this darkness. It gripped her heart and held it. Each beat hurt with the ache of what she’d caused.
“Stop using your earthly mind, Eve,” Aria said.
“Earthly mind? Right. It’s the only mind I’ve got,” Eve responded.
“No it’s not. This is not logic as you know it. Think that you have the ability to see this world and place another world on top of it. Your imagination is the portal.”
“So, I’m imagining all this shit?” Eve asked.
“Not yet. Right now someone else is and you’ve been caught up in their illusion,” Aria said.
“Okay. Is this like crossing between the world of the living and the world of the dead or something?” Eve asked. “You know how some people can see ghosts and others can’t?”
“The ability to recognize alternate matter is a part of it. All kinds of beings live concurrently with us, most just don’t know how to open our minds to see them. When you made love to Beau, you were given special sight. When you saw the Nephilim it expanded.”
“I don’t want special sight,” Eve said.
“It is no longer about what you want or don’t want. You accepted him as reality and now he’s…or they…are here.”
“Are they alive or dead?” Eve asked.
“Nephilim are not bound by mortality. They don’t live so they can’t die,” Aria said.
“That blows the gun and bullet plan. Are they immortal?” Eve asked.
“Yes.” “Then how the hell am I supposed to kill something immortal?”
“You can’t,” Aria told her.
“Way wrong answer. Why the hell are we going after something I can’t destroy? Did you see what that thing did to Cora, Ms. Clarisse, Evine and heaven knows who else? What do you expect me to do?”
Eve was spiraling into a full blown panic attack. Her heart raced, her breath quickened, shots of adrenalin burned through her nerves with the jolt of an electric shock from a 220 plug and a wet finger.
“Breathe, Eve!” Aria commanded.
“I am breathing,” Eve shouted, anger adding to the frustration that filled her.
“Breathe slower. Do it, Eve, or pull over,” Aria told her.
Eve took a deep breath and controlled the release. She took another and then another until the rush and tingling subsided.
“How can I destroy something that can’t be destroyed?” Eve asked.
“You can’t destroy them, but Evine said you have the power to banish them both.”
“Forever?”
“If you do it right,” Aria said.
“I’m still confused,” Eve said.
She felt tired and weak. The stress of all that had happened, the physical abuse to her body, the pressure and lack of sleep slammed into her with the force of a runaway train and washed through her, draining what little energy she had. Aria looked at Eve. The color in her face was fading, as pale as the white light of the moon that spilled across her.
“Listen to me,” Evine’s voice said, flowing through Aria.
The voice pulled Eve out of herself and back into the moment as she whipped her head around to see who was sitting next to her. It was Aria but the voice was unmistakably Evine’s.
“We humans exist in an incomplete world. We vibrate on a very low level. As you raise or lower your vibrations you open yourself up to other worlds. Some are good and some are bad. The Nephilim exist in many. Some are good and some are dark and very bad. Kirakin is a dark Nephilim and his twin, though fallen, tries to remain good and tries to help humankind,” Evine spoke through Aria.
“But there are two of them. Twins? And how do I tell them apart?”
“You will know,” Evine said.
Eve shook her head, trying desperately to grasp what this voice from the dead speaking though this girl/woman was saying.
“Turn left in four hundred yards,” the GPS said.
Eve did not want to understand how she could hear Evine. She felt grateful that the old woman had found a way to let her know she had not completely abandoned her. Maybe Eve didn’t fully understand the whole vibration shift and awareness thing but there was the seed of a logic she could visualize and hold on to.
They turned the corner entering a dark, forgotten, back highway. The full moon bloomed before them and filled the sky. In the time since she’d left Cora’s house it had risen from behind the banyan and oak trees of the flat countryside that had taken her deep into the Atchafalaya Basin. The moon continued its ascent climbing high above the eerie spiked fingers of sawgrass fields that lay like welcome mats just outside the forest and swamplands. The road they traveled sliced through the field, parting the grasslands like a tan sea that waved in the wind as she passed. The moonlight caught the grass sea and then spilled down on the ribbon of blacktop turning it to grey satin. The land beyond looked hungry, desolate and turned black as pitch as they passed inside the cover of the swamp forest. Eve felt lonely and cold. The temperature changed. She felt the breeze that swept past her from the open window. The summer evening heat turned cool and the scent of the swamp closed in around them. The finely laced winking moonlight peeked through the leaves of the trees, giving her momentary glimpses of the moon against the black abyss of space. She looked up at it and thought how much it reflected the way she felt inside; especially the cold and alone part. She added one thing more to her feelings of lonely desperation: the shadow of being terribly confused and way out of her league.
Eve reached into her mind searching for a tangible thread to hold onto as they drove.
“Once,” Eve said. “… in college, I took a philosophy class, and we studied Plato’s “Theory of Shadow.”
Aria looked at her. “I heard Evine speak of Plato. He was a Greek teacher who taught Socrates.”
Eve nodded, “Bingo.”
“I remember reading Plato’s concept that there were all these people living in a cave and every day they watched shadows moving across the rock wall in front of them—two-dimensional black figures, distorted images, passing back-and-forth, day in and day out. This went on and on and on until the shadows became the only reality that the people in the cave knew. One day, one of the cave people got up and walked towards the shadows. They moved to the huge yawning mouth of the cave and stepped out into the real world where they saw an immense fire burning. They saw that the world outside the cave wasn’t made of flat shadows with no color but filled with life and color and three dimensional people who walked back and forth in front of the raging fire going about their lives as they passed the entrance of the cave. He imagined them going to wonderful places and doing amazing things. The cave person watched them move back and forth and saw how it was that the fire’s light that fell into the cave was broken by the passing people and created the shadows that fell on the great wall each time one person crossed. He suddenly understood that there, existing outside their cave, beyond the shadow images on the wall and blazing fire was an entire other world. He saw these people and understood they had colors and depth and form even though only their shadows came into their cave.”
Aria’s face was turned up to Eve’s listening as a child hearing her favorite bedtime story would, hanging on every word.
“What happened?” Aria asked.
“The person from inside the cave who’d seen these wonders and had this epiphany returned to the other cave people. They all sat inside the cave watching the shadow people pass back and forth as he shared with them the knowledge of what he’d seen. H
e invited the cave people to come out, to venture past the entrance to the cave into the real world and see for themselves there was more to life than just shadows on walls. He entreated them to experience the reality of this new world versus the illusion of their world.”
Aria was silent for a long moment. Tears filled her eyes as she turned back to Eve.
“They killed him, didn’t they?” Aria asked.
Eve didn’t need to reply; they were connected enough for Aria to understand where Eve was going with the ancient tale.
“Will they kill us if we tell the truth?” Eve asked.
Aria didn’t answer. “Before all this I would have killed anyone who challenged my reality, wouldn’t you?” Eve said. “But since I’m the one who saw, I guess I’ll just have to be the one who either tells the truth or makes sure they stay in the cave and leave all this the fuck alone.”
They sat in silence and turned their faces back to look through the front windshield. They let the light of the moon bathe them in her silvery wash and watched as the white orb rose, climbing higher into the sky and marking the passage of time. Its light was their guide reaching out in silence across the dark countryside, a call to destiny, a beacon of hope, a fate yet to be determined.
The trees opened and Eve saw the moon as she’d never seen it before. Huge, full, every detail of the vast, mottled surface, a plethora of scarred cosmic lands, rugged valleys and jagged mountains that reached above the barren gray surface and fell and rose again and again, forming great, black, ancient shadows that stretched across a sea of still moon dust; each element created the details that formed a crooked face on a white rock that orbited the night sky called moon.
“Turn right in six hundred yards,” the voice of the GPS told her.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Eve focused on her driving but as they got closer to their destination, her mind couldn’t help drifting back to Beau, a man taken prisoner in the prime of his youth, trapped all those years in a prison not only by his own human grandfather, but also by some evil entity that used him.
When he’d come to her that first beautiful night, he’d been so handsome and strong, charming, sweet, funny, clever and so amazingly sensual. Why couldn’t he have just been a nice local guy who she met at a charity dance and liked? How could he be part of this demonic nightmare? Whatever this was and why the hell she had to be such an integral part of it she needed to understand. Was he real… alive? Was he controlled by Kirakin or his twin? Did it matter?
She felt sad for him. His sibling dying, or murdered, as well as his parents. Were they murdered as well? Her life had been so easy growing up; she was born into a loving family with a kind and giving mother, a strong and supportive father, a family who encouraged her dreams and supported her to reach for the best and never be afraid of failing, because not to try was the worst failure of all.
She had family and friends waiting for her, and of course there was Cora, who had risked her life to help her. Eve knew she would do the same for Cora. She was doing it now by going into the fray to fight for her. She knew failure was not an option. She would defeat this evil, save Cora and, if she could, help the gentle stranger named Beau who had touched her heart. Oh, yeah, and somehow destroy a demon or two.
Eve took a long, slow deep breath and reached into her mind searching for an answer to the question, “What will I do when I get to Thibodaux?” In that instant, when she opened her mind, something seemed to delete the idea that this was impossible and redefined whatever was about to happen as possible. Something miraculous happened. Eve relaxed. Perhaps it was the idea she no longer had a choice in the matter or the deeper understanding that whatever was about to happen to her, she was no longer just a pawn, used and afraid. The end of the story had yet to be written. She was the author of her fate. In that acceptance, she lost, at least for the moment, all sense of fear. The negative feelings flowed out of her pores like a rush of dammed water once held by walls of denial breaking through the banks: the river of fear burst and the emotions flushed free. She was able to release the taut, claustrophobic knot that gripped every muscle in her body and stiffened her spine. Courage replaced fear. With the release of the next cosmic breath, she was there…present. Ready. The last question remained, Ready for what? And for that, only time held the answer.
The slip of air that rushed into the car through the small opening she made in the window tossed her hair. It felt cool and calming as it brushed her face like the fingers of a lover.
“Have you been listening to me?” Aria asked.
Eve thought for a moment not even realizing Aria had been talking to her.
“No,” Eve said.
“Are you alright?” Aria asked.
“Yeah,” Eve said with a small smile. “In a way I didn’t know possible.”
“Turn left in one hundred yards,” the GPS instructed.
Eve turned left and went from one dark lonely road onto another. She studied the neat rows of Cyprus trees that grew tall and purposeful, lining the road like brooding silent soldiers guarding some yet to be seen castle keep.
A sign overgrown by vines read: THIBODAUX HOSPITAL AND ASYLUM REST HOME.
“In forty feet, turn right,” the GPS said.
She turned and instantly the lights caught the rusted metal of a ten-foot, wrought iron gate that blocked their way. She stopped the car with a jerk. More vines crawled and twisted everywhere, in and around the huge fence, claiming back what had once been wild, wet lands.
“How do we get in?” Aria asked.
Eve said nothing. She opened the car door and stepped into the cool night air. The rank smell of wet moss and decomposing bits of plants filled her nostrils. She felt the soft ground, spongy and thick, built up from years of nature growing and dying like a phoenix reborn only to die and grow again in a never ending cycle of life and death. The cushion of decayed matter and moss felt strangely comfortable under her shoes.
She walked up to the gate feeling the edge of the road that long ago lost its definition. Years of neglect turned the entrance from cement to mulch where once a proud road existed. The closer she got to the fence the stronger the air smelled, thick musk with the bite of black moss and red mold. She could see it crawling on the nearby rocks, trees and the rusted iron of the gate. The colors caught flecks of moonlight as they fell through the clutter of tree branches. In the distance, unless the asylum was far away, no lights marked the road or welcomed them inside. Atop the two high, brick pillars that held the gates, no guard stood watch. They would have been stopped and asked why they were here, turned away or given a pass. One worry down, Eve thought having averted this first danger.
Eve took out her smart phone switched on the torch light and waved it over the entrance. In the harsh glow of green-blue light, she saw an enormous rusted padlock held firmly and defiantly in place by a massive iron chain.
Eve turned to find Aria standing next to her studying the situation. The sudden and very silent close proximity of the girl startled her.
“It’s an illusion,” Aria said.
Eve just looked at her and then back at the ten-foot rusted iron gates, chain and padlock.
“Looks pretty real to me,” Eve said.
“Reach out your hand,” Aria said.
As Aria said the words she reached her hand through the metal bars as if they weren’t there … for Aria they weren’t. The bars looked as though they stabbed through her thin arm, spears piercing through flesh.
Eve quickly reached her hand out and smashed her fingers into the iron bar.
“Fuck! Ouch! Ouch!” she yelped, shaking the sting out of her hand.
“You need to shift your thinking. You believe it’s there and so it is there,” Aria said.
Eve looked at her. Shadows on walls she thought. She slowly reached out and gingerly placed her fingers around the cold rough iron. It felt solid and very real.
“Imagine it is smoke or air, water or something transmutable,” Aria encouraged.
/> Eve’s eyes did not leave the gate. She released her fingers and imagined the bars to be liquid. At first nothing happened. They remained as solid and present as they had been a moment before when they smashed her hand.
“See them anew, Eve,” Aria said. “See the solid particles as tiny specs of energy vibrating apart into tiny, separate points before you.”
Eve stared intently at the bars, her focus and concentration pinpointed and centered on a small area. Eve let her eyes fall out of focus the way one does when playing with an optical illusion to see the picture inside the image. She saw a small patch of red rust surrounded by green fuzzy moss move. It was miniscule at first and then the space above and below seemed to shiver, vibrate and break apart into a billion tiny particles. Each bar in the fence expanded before her. They grew thick and fat and plumped out, blending into the bars next to it and they in turn blended into the next bars, each time growing more transparent until the entire wall of iron bars faded and vanished as if it had never been there.
Eve stepped forward passing through what had been a solid barrier of rotting and rusting iron. She felt her molecules blend momentarily with those of the iron metal and gasped as she felt an odd tingle ripple through her body. This odd feeling of integration passed through and out her back as she moved past the illusion of rust, iron and leaves. Aria stood next to her on the other side of the gate. She turned and watched as the fence reformed itself looking as impassable from the inside as it did from the outside.
“Remember what you did,” Aria said. “If you plan to get out you will need that understanding.”
“If?” Eve asked. “Oh, hell yeah, I plan to get out of here.”
Aria had already started walking down the dark road ahead of her. Eve followed glancing up at the row of thirty-foot, bald cypress trees that lined it. Each branch reached up into the night, hung heavy with cloaks of Spanish moss but completely barren of leaves. All the trees were dead, blanched white, wood skeletons that twisted high up into the sky. The smell of rot wafted over her again. This time it carried something else. Eve wasn’t sure what the extra scent was, but she’d smelled it before. She couldn’t remember where or when and nothing came to her mind that would give it a name. She felt soft mud and mulch sucking at her shoes. She kept walking, listening to the gentle breeze rustle the moss in the tree tops, the cry of a distant nutria calling for its mate, crickets and a symphony of night crawling bugs. The occasional mosquito the size of a small hummingbird tried to land on her to drink her blood, but she slapped them off and kept moving. Eve began to notice, the closer they got to the main grounds, the quieter everything got. Even the hungry mosquitoes wouldn’t cross some unseen line of demarcation that heralded the entrance to the grounds. In the streaks of moonlight that clawed through the dense moss canopy and fell on the ground at their feet, she saw a large copper head snake slither by, swimming in the thin layer of swampy moss covered water that licked at the edge of the path. The snake looked up at her then turned and vanished into deeper water. It too knew not to venture too close to Thibodaux Asylum.