Shadow on the Wall: Superhero | Magical Realism Novels (The SandStorm Chronicles | Magical Realism Books Book 1)

by Tyler, P. K.

  Maryam screamed and pulled away from Hasad's embrace. Instinct told her to flee the danger around her.

  Lightning struck the ground nearby, corralling her and forcing her back into Hasad's arms.

  Another loud drum beat sounded in the air, vibrating through their bodies and shaking the earth. Another repetition. The sound took on a steady pace, broken up by staccato flashes of lightning that encircled them, singeing the sand until they were standing within a circle of molten silicate. It bubbled and hissed as the temperature soared. Standing in the center, Maryam and Hasad clung tighter still to each other. He wrapped his arms around her as if to protect her from the heat with his body. Maryam panted, trying to catch her breath as the fire around them burned.

  "Hasad!" she yelled against the din, but she received no response.

  His hands were clammy against her arms and she felt faint as the temperature continued to rise. The sound continued, and as the noise increased in volume, the lightning cracks came closer together.

  "Hasad!" Maryam screamed, terrified.

  He held her tight to him, strength returning to his limbs as the desperation of the situation sank in.

  I will not lose another! Rebekah! Recai! I will not lose Maryam too!

  The ground shook beneath them and the ring of molten sand surrounding them boiled and spat as it sank into the sand, melting its way deep into the ground. Above, the sky sparked and a fire burst just as the ground gave out beneath them.

  Maryam screamed as they slid beneath the surface. Sand filled in behind them, closing over them rapidly as they slid into the belly of the earth. Blackness swallowed them and directed them along a sliding path. Hasad clenched his eyes shut and held the screaming woman with determination.

  The reverberating booming which had preceded their descent pulsed until it bled together into one continuous resonance. The sand thrust them downward into the darkness. Hasad no longer knew in what direction they slid. Maryam's screams stopped when the sand began filling her mouth. She buried her head in Hasad's neck.

  The sand slowed and for a while their bodies slid along with the sand until they were falling again. With a painful thud they landed on a stone floor. Hasad stood in the darkness, keeping a hand on Maryam so as not to lose her in the blackness.

  "Saqar!" Maryam coughed out.

  She trembled in the black cavern, cold slick stone beneath her as she prostrated before Allah. The direction of Mecca was hidden here in this void of hell, but she would repent.

  Allaahu Akbar

  Allaahu Akbar

  "Get up!" Hasad commended, grabbing the terrified girl by the arm. "Pray in your head; your God doesn't want you to die down here. We have to find a way out."

  "We've been sent here in punishment!" Maryam sobbed, her faith rocked. She believed she'd been following the laws of Islam, but if she was trapped underground at the gates of hell, perhaps she'd been wrong all along.

  "This isn't punishment. There's no hell that smells like mold and chills you with wet air."

  Maryam sniffed as she stood in the dark, feeling the warmth of Hasad's steady hand on her arm.

  "No, hell is fire and we are the fuel…" Blinking with the hope that her eyes would adjust, Maryam sighed with a shaky breath. "Then where are we?"

  "I don't know."

  The dank air surrounded them, creeping into every space, saturating them with its presence. With a hand in front of him and the other tightly gripping Maryam's, Hasad stepped into the thick air, blindly searching for a wall. Slick rock met his hand, the humidity in the air leaving a moist residue on everything. He pulled Maryam along so she stayed tight against the wall behind him as he followed it forward. At least now he had a point of reference in the abyss.

  Each step spiked his anxiety. There could be a break in the ground, a well to fall into or a rise he might slam a shin against. Getting injured in the unknown void would mean death, and he had Maryam to think about. His usual confidence was tempered by caution as he probed the darkness.

  The two walked for hours. Time suspended in the underground labyrinth. Hasad convinced himself more than once that he had been walking in a circle the entire time, leading them nowhere. Maryam was quiet as she recited verses of the Qu'ran in her mind to steady her nerves and fight the mounting terror of blindness.

  "Stop," Hasad whispered. His voice did not travel far; the oppressive moisture absorbed the sound.

  "Do you see something?"

  Maryam gripped his shoulder from behind, straining to see over him.

  "There's a turn, come on."

  He moved again, leading them sharply to the left along a wall that turned with a precision indicating it was made by man, not nature. Just ahead, the faint dripping sound of water and a flicker of soft light appeared.

  "A djinn?" Maryam asked, suspecting trickery in the sudden oasis.

  "Nonsense. Fairy tales," Hasad snorted before pulling her forward to investigate.

  As they neared the sound, light spread out and illuminated a dark cavern with holes in the walls from floor to ceiling, trapping them in what loosely resembled a beehive. The light glowed from behind a waterfall running along the back wall. Water pooled on the floor and disappeared into a crevasse in the rock beneath them, disappearing into the earth.

  "Water!" Maryam called, letting go of Hasad and running over to put her hands into the flow. "Hasad, there's something… There's nothing on the other side!"

  "Not a wall?"

  "No."

  He stepped up next to her and reached a hand into the stream, drenching his shirt. Open air greeted him. Groping blindly, Hasad found nothing in the space behind the wall of water.

  "The light is coming from here," he muttered, kneeling down and feeling for solid ground. Stepping into this watery gate only to fall into some further cavern in the earth was not in his plan, although no plan of his had gone according to the agenda his entire life. Being here in the first place was proof of that.

  Hasad pulled his hand back and looked up at Maryam. He nodded before standing, taking her hand, and stepping into the unknown.

  The water fell fast and soaked their clothing. It filled their shoes and weighed down their clothes. Maryam pulled the soaked hijab off her head so it could dry. In her heart, Hasad had already become family; there could be no shame here.

  On the other side a dim light filled another large cavern lined with carved holes. Obviously man-made, the openings were each identical in shape and size. Releasing Hasad's hand, Maryam went to investigate, leaning into the darkness of the nearest opening.

  "What are you doing? Let's get out of here." Hasad said as he stepped toward the light, peering into the dim illumination, desperate to find something that would give him a sense of where they were.

  "Hold on, I want to… I want to see what's in here." Maryam's curiosity outweighed her fear.

  "Careful, spiders and scorpions love places like this."

  "There are no bugs down here. Scorpions don't like places with no food. It's fine."

  It was dark and dank within the opening. She reached in slowly with her hand until she found something to hold onto. Maryam pulled at it, heard a cracking sound and pulled back her hand, retrieving a gray bone. With a scream she threw the bone back into the hole and shuddered, looking around them. She backed away, falling against Hasad.

  "This whole place… it's graves!"

  He held her shoulders and scanned the cavern.

  "Not graves. This is some kind of catacomb . . . but those are on the other side of the city, near the river." A voice spoke from deep in the darkness.

  "These are the ancient catacombs from before the Anatolians, before the ancient city of Hasankeyf. Very few people know what's down here, and now, today, you are my second visitors."

  Stepping out into the room so his image was no longer obscured by the light behind him came Imam Al-Bashir.

  "Darya!"

  Her uncle's voice rang out from her main rooms, making her jump. Her afternoon cup of
coffee slipped from her hands and fell over the railing, speeding down to smash into whatever it met in the street below.

  She took a steadying breath and fought against the constriction in her chest that seemed to be trying to kill her with terror. She had been waiting for him to arrive, but the reality of his presence shook her confidence. Looking out into the desert she saw another flash of lightning, and reminded herself that pure power is afraid of nothing.

  The oversized silhouette of the mayor greeted Darya when she walked back into her apartment, the lightning storm in the desert forgotten in the angry fire of his eyes. His jowly face twisted with contempt.

  "Darya," he greeted curtly, the vein in his soft forehead bulging.

  "Uncle."

  She approached him with a straight back, holding his eyes with her own. She would not be cowed; this city was hers now.

  "I sent your housekeeper home. We could use some privacy."

  "Could we?" Darya raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I have nothing to say that can't be overheard."

  "No?"

  "No."

  "Darya…" the mayor began, clenching his fists. He stood with a wide stance and despite his lack of training in recent years, his body was still strong beneath his layers of fat. He held his chest high and overwhelmed the room with his presence. Darya did not retreat.

  "You've gone too far," he began through gritted teeth. "How long?"

  "How long what, Mahmet? How long have I been stealing your money or how long have I been advancing my own interests through the RTK? I've been playing father against son, exposing you all for the worms you are, as weak as the weakest woman in your company. Either way, it's been just long enough to make sure you're out of time."

  Darya's smile was slow and dangerous. She leaned against the desk, hoping its solid structure would support her shaking legs. There was no time for weakness now.

  Mahmet Yilmaz stared at his niece. He moved slowly, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. He did not speak as he approached, and Darya did not look away. She held his eyes instead of bowing her head. She was done deferring to men just because they expected it. She stood before her uncle with her hair uncovered and wearing the designer jeans she had bought in a moment of rebellion.

  The impact of his hand against her face was sudden. Darya cried out as she fell over the top of her desk, the corner digging painfully into her side. Papers scattered before the heavy-set man whose chest heaved with the exhilaration of violence.

  "You've gone too far," he repeated as she righted herself before him.

  "You've lost," Darya seethed. "You have nothing, you are nothing. You can hit me if you want, but you'll never get any of it back."

  Mahmet loomed over her, his breath reeking of cigarettes and corruption.

  "Your father would be so ashamed," was the last thing he said before raising his hand again.

  The first strike had been open-handed, a slap to remind a woman of her place. Now he struck with a closed fist. Darya's head jerked back, her body following the movement until she lay upon the ground. Mahmet's face was red as he panted before delivering the first kick to her abdomen. With powerful legs he repeatedly kicked her in the stomach.

  She swallowed a scream as the impact ripped through her. She would not show him weakness. Fury battled with the trained child inside that told her to apologize, to give in to him. Her body begged for the beating to end, but pride would not concede.

  "Uncle!" she panted, unable to stay silent as he kicked her again in the thigh before reaching down and wrenching her body up before him.

  "You think you're a man? You think you can tell me what to do? Who's in charge? You are nothing. You are a deceiver, a whore! You are nothing!" Mahmet spat the words out, shaking her.

  "No…" she keened, blood dripping from her nose and lip, the pain in her abdomen overwhelming. She had been vain. She thought she could win. Nothing in this world had ever given her reason to believe it was possible for her to have something of her own. It was impossible to think she would ever own anything without a man's name attached to it or be regarded as someone worthy of respect, and still she had fought for a life she controlled. She should have known better.

  Mahmet threw Darya back against the glass doors leading out to the balcony. The curtains parted as she collided, allowing in a sparking flash of lightning. Darya fell to the floor, her body screaming for reprieve from the abuse. Mahmet approached his niece with a sneer and the glint of evil in his eye. "You're just a woman acting like a man. Give me a reason why I shouldn't have you dismembered and left in the desert for vultures to eat."

  Placing his swollen hand on his belt, Mahmet unzipped his pants.

  Darya scrambled away from him, pushing her burning muscles to help her escape. The voice inside her, where she thought of this man as a father, screamed, but her lips remained sealed shut. Wide-eyed and full of horror, she shook her head no.

  Mahmet rounded the desk, cutting off any escape for Darya's crawling figure. He pulled back his leg and delivered a cracking blow to her face. Screams filled the air as her bones shattered and Darya's body flew against the wall before sliding limply to the floor.

  Through a bloody veil of pain, Darya accepted the horror of her position. Mahmet intended to show her her place one way or another. Bile rose in her mouth and she gagged. Leaning over, Darya vomited onto the floor what little food she had in her system.

  Mahmet's laugh was full of madness and hatred. It was the sound of pure evil.

  "Stay down."

  Mahmet spat his words so violently Darya expected them to have a physical impact.

  "No."

  "You've learned nothing."

  Lifting his leg he lashed out at her again, but Darya's fear and devastation turned to fury. Despite the pain that coursed through her entire body she slid out of his range, making him stumble into the wall.

  "Bitch."

  He reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her up to her knees while yanking some of her silky locks free from her skull.

  "I gave you everything, I gave you this home," he pulled her by the hair to slam her face into the wall. "I gave you work."

  He yanked hard again, pulling her on her side as he stormed toward her desk. Darya frantically crawled and pushed off with her feet in an attempt to keep up with his pace, the pain from her scalp slicing deep within her. When he reached the desk he lifted her up to her feet and scowled directly into her overflowing eyes.

  "You have no understanding of your role. Today you'll learn."

  Mahmet released his niece's hair before turning her violently and slamming her face down onto the keyboard of her computer. He pushed her forward, knocking the monitor off the desk with her head. Her hipbones cried out from the impact of the desk's edge. Darya tried to push up and stand, screaming. But every time she did, Mahmet would use his fist, his hand, his elbow to punish the back of her head.

  "Be still and learn your lesson. You're no pure virgin, you'll never marry. You might as well be good for something," he growled into her neck, leaning over so his massive bulk pinned her against the desk.

  Her hands clawed at the desk and her feet sought leverage to help catapult her out of her uncle's grasp.

  "Always in pants. Always so strong, so opinionated. You flaunt your disobedience."

  "No!"

  Flailing, Darya knocked over the remaining items on her desk, searched for something to hold on to, to help her get away. The scissors in her right top drawer were too far away to reach.

  Mahmet's sweat dripped down from him, landing on Darya's back as he gripped the back of her neck, pushing her face harder against the desk. When she stopped struggling he released his hold slightly and leaned over her, forcing his oversized paw beneath her until he held her breast.

  "Mahmet, please!"

  "Yes, please. Yes, beg for forgiveness, for leniency. That is how a woman wins a fight, by submitting to her superior. Hell is full of women who forget their place!"

  Mahm
et stood up and wrenched her around, flipping her body so her back slammed on the desk.

  "I submit nothing," Darya seethed through clenched teeth.

  "You submit to me."

  The sun began to set in the distance, leaving the penthouse dark and warm. Mahmet's drooping jowls shone with sweat in the twilight. Pain shot through Darya when Mahmet slapped her, but she did not cry out. Her mind stilled as a plan solidified. She took advantage of the space between them and kicked him in the groin before reaching into the drawer.

  "You stupid bitch," he seethed. Once the tears in his eyes subsided, he back-handed her, throwing her body back against the desk. Her face throbbed when the impact of the blow registered, but she kept her hands clenched to her chest.

  When she sat up, the mayor sought her eyes, failing to notice the glimmer of the falling sun reflecting off the metal scissors. Darya tensed and struck true in the center of his left eye.

  Mahmet screamed as she pushed the scissors through his orb, letting the viscous fluid explode across her face. His shock propelled him sideways, flailing like an animal. Instinct had not given him the sense to defend himself and Darya followed, thrusting the scissors deeper until the tip pierced the back of his eye and slipped into the soft tissue of his brain.

  Mayor Mahmet Yilmaz slumped to the floor, his eye oozing blood and ocular fluid. He laid spasming on the ground in the final animalistic movements of his life.

  Darya mounted his flabby torso, screams of pain and anger filling the air. She wrenched the scissors from his face, falling off-center with the effort. An ululation broke from her as she brought the scissors down to his throat and chest again and again.

  "I submit to nothing," she spat, breathless, staring at the bloody remains of her uncle lying beneath her.

  Heart frozen, she stood and walked to the desk on shaking legs. She picked up her phone and dialed the one person she knew she could trust. The only family she'd ever really had.

  "Isik, I need you," was all she said before her heart thawed and she collapsed under the horror of what she had done.