by J. R. Rain
She didn’t blame me for her kidnapping. She blamed the situation that I had found myself in, the situation she had been drawn into.
Mostly, she was in shock. Her world had been irrevocably rocked, shaken. The poor thing had thought she would die. Or, at the very least, turned into a creature like me. Then, of course, she had been there when my ex-husband got killed.
Yeah, that had not been a good night for Mary Lou.
I’d told her that I was there for her if she needed me. She didn’t, not now. She needed her family—mumps and all—and I understood that.
I kept soaring, gaining altitude. It was colder up here. I didn’t mind the cold. Hell, I enjoyed it. My God, I live in perpetual cold!
Anyway, the temperature was dropping to near freezing. Near freezing didn’t bother me either. So, I continued up, higher than I ever had before. Higher and higher. My breath didn’t form vapor puffs before me, as the creature I became didn’t need to breathe much. I did need to reflect on my life—and flying gave me that chance.
At which point, I’d finally realized something: I had accepted Danny’s death.
My kids were another story. They wept at night. I had often caught Anthony crying alone in the bathroom. With the door locked, he let it all out. Tammy was inconsolable in that dramatic way adolescent girls have. She didn’t hide what she felt like Anthony tried to. He was trying to be such a little man. And he had been. But they needed to mourn their father. And I let them. It had been a while since Danny’s death, and now I hoped their trip would distract them. They had been excited to go.
When alone, I cried, too. Once, and then let it go. Danny was a bastard in the end, and a lot of my love and compassion were long gone. But I wept for the young Danny I had fallen in love with, the young Danny I had married and started a family with… and then, that was all the tears I had shed. No, he didn’t deserve what had happened to him; the poor sap hadn’t realized he was being used as a pawn. That he had aligned with Hanner to take me down should have been reason enough to not cry at all. But Danny was an idiot, and he had been scared. Of me. He based many of his decisions on fear, which is never a good idea.
No, I chose to remember the Danny who proposed to me with a mood ring as a stand-in because he was too poor to afford a real engagement piece. I still had that mood ring in my jewelry box. I’d often considered ditching it; now I wouldn’t. I hadn’t kept much of our sentimental stuff, but I would keep that.
Mostly, my heart broke for my kids. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through. And adding insult to injury, was the secrecy of it all. Yes, not only had their father been murdered—but they were being asked to cover up his death.
To pretend nothing happened.
To pretend that their father had simply disappeared.
He hadn’t. He was entombed in a cavern, along with two vampires, both dead.
I flew faster now. Faster and higher.
They hadn’t asked for any of this. Neither had I, for that matter. Still, they were kids. Jesus, how were they going to move on? How were they going to heal?
I didn’t know, but I knew they had to.
I had to trust that I was doing the right thing, even though I was asking the world of them, to keep their father’s death a secret.
My kids are special, I thought as the wind thundered over my perfectly aerodynamic body. They can make it through this.Of course, most mothers thought their kids were special. But mine weren’t like most kids. In fact, they weren’t like any kids.
Indeed, my son had all the strength of a vampire, without actually being one. And my daughter was growing more telepathic and more psychic daily.
We’re the Addams Family. I grinned, at precisely no one. Only cuter.Still I flew, higher and faster. I never got tired when I flew. The creature I became seemed to have endless energy. Supernatural energy. A creature that may or may not have been summoned from another realm, another dimension, did not get cold or fatigued. As best I could tell, the creature had armor-like skin. Scales, perhaps. A true dragon. In fact, creatures such as this—such as me—were surely the source of dragon legends.
And I was pushing that creature for all it was worth. Hell, I had even done the research. I knew how fast I had to fly to break free of the Earth’s gravity.
26,000 miles an hour.
I didn’t know how fast I could actually fly, of course. My guess was maybe a thousand miles an hour. Maybe more, maybe less.
Then again, I had never tried to fly at top speed, whatever that might be.
Well, I was about to find out.
Crazy, I thought, even as I beat my wings faster and faster. Hummingbird fast. A blur of wingtips that I could see out of the corners of my eyes.
Nuts, just nuts.
No way could I fly that fast.
No way.
But maybe.
Just maybe. Certainly, a very strong probability existed that I would die. That something very bad could happen as I tried to escape Earth’s atmosphere.
Except, this creature’s hide was thicker and stronger than the tiles that protected the various space shuttles. Also, this creature didn’t need to breathe. The vacuum of space, I suspected, would pose little problem in that area. No, this hideously beautiful creature that I had transformed into would be just fine. How I knew this, I didn’t know. Then again, how I turned into a giant flying beast, I didn’t know either.
But I somehow knew that this creature could easily handle the rigors of space. Even more, that it was perfectly adapted for it. Which begged the question again: where exactly did it originate from? I hoped to someday find out.
I was now higher than I’d ever been before. My guess, maybe 50,000 feet up, higher than most commercial jets flew.
This is insane.
It was, of course, all the more so because I didn’t know what I was doing. I had no precedent, nothing to base the outcome on.
Just my gut.
Or rather, the creature’s gut.
Which got me thinking: did it need to eat? And if so, what?
Who are you? I suddenly thought.
There was, of course, no response. But I suspected the Highly Evolved Dark Masters—those entities that fueled creatures like vampires and werewolves—might have an idea. More importantly, they must’ve have had something to do with it. And it occurred to me then, as the Earth slipped farther and farther below me, that the creature itself had taken a sort of back seat to allow me in.
He’s here.Watching me, observing me, wondering what I will do next with his body.
Was he a sentient? As in, could he rationally think? Was he intelligently aware?
Can you hear me? I asked him.
No answer. Still, I thought he was there, listening, alert, curious. I directed my thoughts to him: You’re not a monster.
There was no reply, nor did I expect one. To date, I had transformed into this winged nightmare countless times. Never once had we communicated. To be fair, I’d only recently learned that it was being summoned here from another reality. What reality? Where?
Crazy. Everything is just so damn crazy.
And yet, this winged creature I had become projected a sense of serenity, greatness. Perfection, in its own way. It maneuvered beautifully, flew powerfully, and had instantly given me access to how to do it all.
I saw the logic to that. Had I been anything other than an expert, I might just have damaged this beautiful beast. Perhaps worse than damage… possibly even destroy it?
So, I had instantly, instinctively known how to fly, to maneuver, to land, and everything necessary to stay airborne and safe.
And to keep him safe.
But how did it all work?
After all, I summoned him often with little notice. Was he, say, flying serenely over whatever faraway world he lived in, happy as a giant winged clam, when suddenly found himself here?
That didn’t seem right.
Is that what happens? I asked now, while I angled up through the heavens—as the wi
nd buffeted me, slipped over me.
And where was the demoness who lived within me? Did all three of us share this current winged body? And for that matter, where did my cute little 5’3” body go?
The higher I got, the more powerful I seemed to get, too. Wind thundered over me, a constant howl. I was no longer a mother, a sister, a private investigator. I was a flying machine, a thing that matched wits with the heavens… and won.
Can we do this? I asked the creature within me, the creature who had taken a back seat and let me drive.
There was no response…and if there had been, I probably wouldn’t have heard it, anyway.
Response or nor response, I felt as if I could continue on… for eternity.
It’s him!He’s giving me these feelings.
Also, I was sure it was a him. He’d given off a distinctly masculine impression.
So, you’re a boy monster? I asked.
Still no response.
Still, I flew.
I beat my wings—his wings. I beat them steadily, powerfully, confidently. And faster. Always faster.
In fact, I felt I should beat them harder and harder. I was being propelled. By him.
As I beat my wings faster than I’d ever done before, I became aware of one thing and one thing only: I could fly as fast as I wanted. There was no limit to this winged creature who defied space and time and gravity, this beautifully horrific entity that was not of this earth.
Faster. I had to go faster.
I thought of my kids, my family, my job. I had cases on my desk that needed attention. What was I doing? This was crazy. I was crazy. Ever since I knew I could fly, I wanted to fly to the moon.
I wanted to test the boundaries of what I was, what I could do.
True, sometimes I really thought I had gone insane. Some days, I was certain I was babbling incoherently in a funny farm, surrounded by padded walls.
Are you there? I suddenly thought.
I’m here, Samantha. The voice was deep, hesitant, and almost shy.
No, it was neither of those. The voice was… distant. As in, it came from deep within my thoughts. Deeper than anything I had yet encountered.
No, that wasn’t true. I had delved deep into Russell Baker’s subconscious, hadn’t I? His real self had been buried deep beneath what could only be called an “enchantment.” Or rather, an inadvertent enchantment. But that’s another story for another time.
Where do you come from? I asked.
I come from neither here nor there.
What does that mean?
Nothing, actually, I’m still trying on your language for size. Perhaps that wasn’t the best expression.
Maybe it was. I thought. Except I don’t know exactly what you mean.
I’m still playing with your language. Your concepts, forgive me.
Forgiven, I thought. And quite frankly, you speak English very well.
Actually, I “think” English very well. Mostly, I draw from your knowledge of the language. We have, after all, been connected for a very long time now.
Why haven’t we spoken before?
You tell me, Samantha.
I thought about that as I flew faster and faster. Higher and higher.
I guess I didn’t understand who you were or what you were. Or are. I still don’t.
Perhaps, that makes two of us, Samantha.
You don’t understand what’s happening to you, either?
Yes and no. I understand that a part of me is summoned here, into your world.
Just a part of you?
Yes, Sam. Mostly, I stay in my world.
I don’t understand.
In a way, I don’t either. But I’m trying to. Every time, I’m summoned by you, I think I understand a little more.
Help me understand what you understand, I thought. Please.
Where would you like for me to begin?
I thought about that as the icy wind thundered over me. Over us. Where do you come from? You said “your world.” Where is your world?
Ah, yes, my world. It’s not very different from your own, Samantha.
We don’t have giant flying bats!
Perhaps not, but you have giant other creatures, sea creatures. Any number of which would be far greater in size than me. Your giraffes and elephants would “raise eyebrows,” as you would say.
How do you know our expressions and idioms? How do you “think” in English?
We are one, Sam. In this form, at this moment, we are one.
Fine, I thought. Tell me more about your world.
There are many like me.
Giant, scary-ass flying bats?
The voice inside my head chuckled lightly. Yes, something like that.
Are there humans?
Yes, Sam.
I want to go to this place, I thought.
I figured you might.
Because you know me so well?A smile tugged at my thoughts. Something like that.
I’m fascinated by your world.
I imagine you are, Samantha.
I have a million questions…
But one of them is more pressing than the others, correct?
Correct, I thought.
You want to know how I appear in your world.
Yes.
That’s the million-dollar question, Sam.
You mean you don’t know?
No, Sam.
I thought about that as I continued angling up through the atmosphere, higher and higher.
I summon you, I thought.
True. I do know one thing, Sam.
What’s that?I don’t fully leave my world. I am, in fact, in two different worlds at the same time.
I don’t understand.
Neither do I, Sam.
What are you doing, presently, in your world?
I’m sitting on a ledge, overlooking our cities.
You have cities?
Not like yours, Sam. But in a way, yes. “Cities” is the best way to describe where I live.
I wish to see your cities.
I know, Sam.
How would I do that?
You don’t know?
Know what?
You’re there now, Sam, with me…
The Earth receded, far below.
Up here, there was only darkness. Up here, there wasn’t much separating me from the stars. No, that wasn’t true. There was something very significant: the Earth’s atmosphere. That, which held the Earth together; that which kept us bound together. Earthbound.
We are sitting together on a ledge? I asked after a moment.
In a way, Sam. An aspect of you is with me. A soul fragment.
That makes no sense.
Then let me try again. We are all souls, Sam. Some older than others. Some further along on our journeys. We each come from the mind of God. I believe you understand this.
I do.I think.
You do, he thought. I see you have more than sufficient understanding of the One concept.
We are all One, I thought. Because we are all from the same source.
Yes, he nodded mentally. Good. As souls, as children of the one source, the Creator, we can do many wondrous things. Your world is only now beginning to discover such things, but mostly, you will deny yourselves your birthright. Or, as we call it, your soulright.
You’re talking about miracles, I said.
Much more than miracles, Sam. But, yes.
And your world is further along than our world?
In a nutshell, yes. We acknowledge that we are much more than our physical bodies. We also understand that we can be in two different places at once. Or more.
More?
Yes, Sam. The soul is limitless, as is the Creator.
And if we are part of the Creator…
Then we, too, are limitless.
But why do we limit ourselves? I thought. Why do we accept our current state?
That is for your world to figure out, Sam.
And your world has figured this out?
>
We did. Many millennia ago.
And what did you do with this information? I asked.
We flew, Sam. We grew wings and built cities in the sky. We removed poverty and disease and war and hate. We removed death.
You are immortal?
Yes, Sam. If we choose to be.
I want to see this world, I thought.
Then open your eyes, Sam.
I don’t know how!
So be it, then.
No, wait. I want to know how. I want to see your cities.
Before me, hovering brilliantly in the sky, was the full moon. It seemed bigger than I had ever seen it before. It should be bigger. I was, after all, closer to it than I had ever been before.
As I flew, a sudden truth spread through me, and as it did, I felt myself nodding. The great head of the beast I had become nodded, too.
I have to first believe I can fly to the moon, I thought, before I can believe I can see your world.
They are, as your world calls it, baby steps.
It’s a helluva baby step, I thought.
Not as big as you think, Sam.
I would have to break through our atmosphere. We would have to break through it, flying faster than any creature has ever flown before, or could ever fly. Defy gravity. That is the truth, Sam.
But you just said that, as sons and daughters of the Creator, we can do anything.
I did.
But how? How do we do that?
How indeed, Sam.
Then once in space, how do we survive reentry? I mean, iron-ore comets burn to dust while entering our atmosphere.
Indeed, he thought. And I see that you’ve been doing your research.
I Googled it, I thought, wondering briefly if the creature I had become knew about Google.
I do, Sam. We are more connected than you know.
Of that, I had no doubt, and as I studied the glowing moon before me, I began to see the absurdity of all of this. I had kids far below. I had a parent/teacher conference in two days. I had a client meeting tomorrow with a man who, of all things, claimed his wife had disappeared off the face of the Earth.