The Darkest Corners

by Barry Hutchison

  His eyes blazed with dark excitement. ‘And then there’re the abilities you possess. I’d like to say they’re all from my side, of course, but that’s not true. They come from your unique parentage. A real mother and an imaginary father. The ability to dream, and the power to make those dreams come true. I showed you that power, and then I told you what would happen if you tried to use it.’

  He laughed and rocked back on his heels. ‘That must’ve really hurt. All those god-like abilities and you couldn’t allow yourself to use them. I don’t know how you coped with that.’ He put his hand over his mouth. ‘Oh, wait, you didn’t, did you?’

  ‘You tricked me.’

  ‘And you unleashed Hell on seven billion innocent people.’

  ‘You killed my family!’

  He took a step back and pointed the gun at the centre of my chest.

  ‘And now I’m going to kill you. All those years of planning have been leading right to this moment, and it’s better than I could’ve dared hope. Your birth sent me away,’ he said, his voice becoming louder, ‘and with your death, I am reborn as king of this new world!’

  ‘No, don’t! Don’t!’

  Ameena jumped in front of me. His finger tensed. The roar of the gun filled the hallway and made my ears ring like an alarm bell. My eyes closed at the sound of the shot. When I opened them, Ameena was slumping to the floor, her hands clutching her stomach.

  She landed on her back, blood pulsing through her fingers. Her breath came in rasping gasps and her eyes swam with tears, but she didn’t scream. Not once.

  ‘Oh, now look what you made me do,’ my dad muttered. I dropped to my knees beside Ameena. The blood pumped out of her. So much blood. So much pain written across her face.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I told her. ‘You’re OK. It’s going to be OK.’

  She shook her head. ‘You’re s-such a terrible liar,’ she whispered, then she let out a groan. Her eyes swam, then focused. ‘Tried to warn you. Told you n-not to come. Wanted us t-to run away. Together.’

  ‘We can,’ I said. I lifted her hand and pressed it to my face. Her blood was warm against my skin. ‘We will. You’re going to be OK. All that other stuff, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.’

  ‘Oh, God, this is sickening,’ my dad mumbled. ‘Excuse me while I puke.’

  ‘Shut up!’ I spat, hot tears stinging my eyes. ‘Shut up!’

  ‘Too late,’ Ameena croaked. ‘Too late. S-sorry. N-never wanted to hurt you. Wasn’t as s-strong as you. Couldn’t... couldn’t fight him.’

  Her face was becoming an ashen shade of grey. The carpet was awash with her blood now. It seeped out around us in a steadily widening circle.

  ‘Hold on,’ I pleaded. I pressed my hand against her stomach to try to stop the blood flow, but felt her life ebb out through my fingers. Her eyes rolled back in her head. ‘Ameena!’ I shouted, shaking her. ‘Hold on!’

  ‘Oh, what’s the point?’ my dad sneered. ‘If you’re going to die, just get on with it. Some of us have things to do.’

  ‘D-do you t-trust me?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. Despite everything that had happened in the last few hours, despite every suspicion I’d harboured from the start, I said, ‘Yes.’

  She smiled, then a jolt of pain made her go rigid in my arms. She was shaking like a hypothermia victim, her body going into shock and shutting down.

  ‘This s-stings a bit,’ she said, when the convulsions had passed.

  ‘I know, I know. But you’ll be OK,’ I said. I was fooling no one. We both knew what was going to happen. We both knew that this, finally, was the end.

  ‘Have to tell you s-something,’ she whimpered. ‘Been t-trying to make you realise since the hospital. Y-you’re too damn stubborn.’ She gestured with her head for me to lean in closer. I felt her breath against my cheek as she whispered in my ear. ‘This isn’t the Darkest Corners. J-just looks like it.’

  It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. I leaned back and stared at her, my eyes two circles of surprise. ‘But that means...’

  She nodded and her face lit up with that crinkle-nosed grin.

  ‘Means what?’ my dad asked. ‘What did she say? Isn’t she dead yet?’

  ‘You d-don’t have to be a-afraid any more,’ Ameena whispered, squeezing each word out with the last of her strength. ‘There’s n-nothing left to lose.’

  ‘What are you saying? What are you telling him?’

  ‘Go get him, k-kiddo,’ Ameena wheezed, and then the hand on my cheek became limp. Became lifeless. Her head tilted, just a tiny fraction, to the right. Her eyes didn’t move, but they stopped looking at me, or looking at anything, for that matter.

  And like that, the best friend I had ever had left me.

  ‘Finally,’ my dad sighed. ‘I didn’t think she was ever going to go. Now, where were we?’

  Ameena’s final few words chimed in my head. This wasn’t the Darkest Corners, it just looked like it. I’d brought the barrier down, but the world hadn’t changed. It had simply been filled with monsters. This was the real world. My world. And it had been all along.

  And there it was, like a candle in the darkness. A single spark lit up inside my head.

  My stomach twisted. I felt sick. Not because I was powerless to stop what was happening, but because I could have stopped it any time I wanted.

  Slowly, I stood up. I turned round and saw my dad smirk. ‘Ah, yes, this is where we were,’ he said.

  His finger tightened on the trigger of the gun.

  A hundred billion bright blue sparks roared inside my head.

  I saw the bullet. First the metal, then the structure of the metal itself – not smooth, but pitted and ridged like some grey alien landscape.

  Then deeper. I saw chains of molecules all latched together like an intricate web.

  Deeper. The very atoms that made up the bullet, spinning like galaxies in a little lead universe.

  I saw the bullet’s kinetic energy, felt its heat, saw and understood the chemical make-up for the gunpowder that trailed in its wake.

  And it didn’t stop there. I saw the gun, all its individual components, and I knew how they worked.

  I saw Ameena’s blood on the carpet, heard Billy’s whooshing through his veins.

  Above that I heard simultaneously the chittering of microscopic dust mites and the screams of a whole world filled with the dead and the dying. I looked through the eyes of every living creature on Earth, saw what they saw, felt their fear and their panic and their utter hopeless despair.

  By the time I’d done all that, the bullet had almost finished travelling along the barrel of the gun. I stopped it existing, then I did the same to the gun itself. Neither one disappeared in a puff of smoke. There was no theatrical flash. Both bullet and pistol simply ceased to be.

  My dad looked at his empty hand. Thirty-three muscles in his face conspired to make him frown. Then he looked back at me, his pupils dilating as fear flooded his body with adrenaline.

  ‘Ah, so that’s what she told you.’

  ‘You killed her,’ I said. I watched the sound waves ripple lazily away from my mouth. They wriggled like tiny snakes through the air. ‘You killed Ameena.’

  ‘For your own good,’ he said. ‘I did it for you, son. Don’t you see? I’ve done everything for you. To help you unlock your full potential.’

  ‘Stop talking,’ I said, and he did. He had no choice in the matter. ‘The power. You said it was god-like.’ I flexed my hands and felt whole ecosystems thriving between the cracks of my skin. ‘You have no idea.’

  I allowed him to speak again. ‘Exactly, son! There’s nothing we can’t do together. Nothing we can’t accomplish.’

  ‘I could take you apart,’ I told him. ‘One atom at a time, I could take you apart and spread you across the world. I could do that, you know? Just by thinking it.’

  He shook his head and laughed. ‘Yeah, but you wouldn’t. You’re a good boy, Kyle,’ he said, using
the words as an insult. ‘Your mother brought you up soft. Even after everything I’ve done, you haven’t got the guts to kill me. Oh, sure, you say you’re going to. You come looking for me, but you don’t have the stomach for it. You’re weak. You’re pathetic.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I said.

  ‘Go on then,’ he barked, fury suddenly etching the lines of his face. ‘Do it. Kill me. I murdered your mum, turned your grandmother into a monster, shot your girlfriend right there in front of you! So come on, tough guy. Kill me. Do it.’

  I clenched my fists. I wanted to kill him. More than anything, I wanted to.

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t just slay him in cold blood. That would make me no better than he was. The screechers in the church, the monster I’d battered with that rock – I had no choice. That was survival. This would be different. This would be murder.

  He chuckled at the back of his throat and stepped past me. I flinched as he patted me on the shoulder. ‘Didn’t think so,’ he said, then he trotted down the stairs, hands in his pockets, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  ‘I can’t kill you, but I can stop you,’ I told him, following. He did a twirl at the bottom and made for the door.

  ‘You could, but what would be the point? You don’t have the guts to finish me off.’ He stopped and met my eye. ‘Do you really want me around? Whispering into your ear, telling you about every terrible thing I’ve done?’

  I had no answer for that. His smile widened. ‘Thought not.’

  He skipped on the spot, then carried on towards the door. ‘It’s not over, you know. I’ll think of other ways to make you suffer. You may be all-powerful, but you’ve still got a heart beating in there, and I can still break it. And you’ll still be too much of a goody two-shoes to stop me.’

  The door opened and I.C. came staggering in, breathing heavily. He crashed right into my dad, who hissed with annoyance.

  ‘Whoops. Sorry, mister,’ I.C. said.

  My dad grimaced. ‘You will be, you little runt,’ he said, and he swung a clenched fist at I.C.’s cheek.

  A hand clamped round his wrist, stopping his arm dead. My dad looked up into the narrowed eyes of Mr Mumbles. Mumbles forced him back into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. Outside, the howls of the monsters rose in volume.

  ‘Let go of me, freak,’ my dad spat. Mumbles twisted his grip and my dad yelped in pain. His hand bent in towards him, forcing him to his knees.

  ‘Name-calling is bad. Isn’t that right, I.C.?’

  ‘That’s right, Uncle Mumbles.’

  My dad snorted. ‘Uncle Mumbles? You’ve got to be kidding me.’

  Mumbles raised his eyes to me. I stood on the stairs watching. For all my power, I felt completely helpless.

  ‘Thought the plan was to kill him?’

  I lowered my gaze. ‘I… I couldn’t.’

  ‘He’s too weak!’ my dad snarled. ‘Too pathetic. He couldn’t do it. Can you believe it? After everything I did, he couldn’t finish me off!’

  Mumbles looked at me for a long time, then his eyes went down to the man kneeling before him. ‘He’s a good kid. Even after what you’ve done, he’s a good kid.’ He leaned down so his face was next to my dad’s. ‘Me? Not so much.’

  With a roar, my dad’s free arm lashed out. I saw the blade in his hand, but he moved too quickly, taking me by surprise. It sliced upwards, stabbing straight for Mr Mumbles’ stomach.

  ‘Look out!’ I yelped.

  There was a blur of movement. I saw Mumbles’ hands on my dad’s head, and then they jerked sharply. I heard bone splintering and the knife thudding on to the carpet. Mumbles stepped back and my dad’s broken body slumped face-first on to the floor.

  ‘Sorry you had to see that,’ Mumbles said.

  I stared at him, then at the man on the carpet, his head twisted at an impossible angle. My father, maybe, but not my dad. Never my dad. I shrugged and drew in a shaky breath. ‘I’m not.’

  I returned to the upstairs landing and looked down to where Ameena lay. I couldn’t bring her back. I knew that. I could restore her to life, yes. Reanimate her so she walked and talked like Ameena, but it wouldn’t be her. Not really. Just like it wasn’t my mum earlier. The dead stayed dead, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  But there were other things I could do.

  Billy was still unconscious, but he’d be awake in a few minutes. That was more than enough time.

  I walked down the stairs and stood between I.C. and Mr Mumbles. I made a point of not looking at the body on the floor.

  ‘What now?’ asked Mr Mumbles.

  The front of the house folded up like a map, revealing the world beyond. A near-perfect circle of snow blanketed a patch of the street. Several dozen creatures stood frozen atop it, their bodies encased in frost and ice. But hundreds more raced for the house, leaping and bounding and slithering and scampering, all closing in for the kill.

  ‘You broke your house,’ I.C. said.

  ‘Nice trick,’ Mumbles added.

  ‘I can feel them,’ I said. ‘Every one of them. I know what they are, who they were, where they came from.’

  ‘What, all of them?’ Mumbles asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. ‘There must be two hundred out there.’

  ‘No, all of them,’ I said. ‘Everything that came from the Darkest Corners. I’m inside their heads.’

  I.C. jabbed a finger in his ear and wiggled it about. ‘Hello? Hello? Are you in there?’

  The things out in the snow were moving at a fraction of their actual speed now. I held them in slow motion until I was ready to deal with them.

  ‘I can send them back,’ I said. ‘All of them. I can send them back to the Darkest Corners and rebuild the wall.’

  Mumbles nodded. ‘Then do it.’

  I hesitated. ‘But there’ll be nothing to stop it happening again. If I send them away, then use my abilities, I’ll reopen the gateway and they’ll all come straight back through.’

  ‘Then don’t use your abilities.’

  ‘I... I’m not sure I can stop. I don’t know how to switch them off. I’ve got the power to save the world, but my next thought could destroy it all over again.’ I looked to Mumbles for help. ‘What do I do?’ I pleaded. ‘What do I do?’

  There was a lingering, drawn-out silence. I.C. was the one who finally broke it.

  ‘You could come and live with me and Big Nose,’ he suggested. ‘He smells a bit funny, but he’s nice.’

  Mr Mumbles and I exchanged a long look. He ground his teeth together, as if chewing the idea over. ‘You’d be powerless,’ he said at last. ‘Helpless. And they’d all be after you. They’d all want revenge.’

  ‘But we’d look after you. Wouldn’t we, Uncle Mumbles?’

  My old imaginary friend regarded me impassively. And then, finally, he gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Why not?’

  I remembered the photograph I had found in Joseph’s wallet, back when I was trapped in Doc’s hospital in the Darkest Corners. It was a photograph of me, Mumbles and I.C. together. It had confused me at the time for all kinds of reasons, not least because I looked older in the picture than I was at that moment.

  How many years would it be, I wondered, before that photograph was taken?

  ‘Maybe… we can make it better,’ I said. ‘There are good people there, I can feel them. They’re scared. They have to go back, but maybe we can help them. Maybe we can fix things.’

  ‘The Sheriff of Monster World,’ Mumbles said. He shrugged. ‘I’m game if you are.’

  I closed my eyes and time returned to normal speed, but the things outside didn’t move. Blue strands of electrical light trailed from my fingertips. They spread out like an endless web, passing through the bodies of the creatures in the village, the town and beyond.

  On and on they went, streaking through countryside, through cities, across countries and continents until a network of shimmering blue crisscrossed the
whole world.

  I would send them back, but there were some things I had to do first. Some things I had to fix. I focused.

  Upstairs, a door opened. A little girl emerged to find her brother lying fast asleep on the floor.

  ‘Billy? Billy, wake up.’

  I heard the scraping of Billy’s eyelids flicking open, the tightening of his throat, the racing of his heart.

  ‘Lily? Lily, you’re OK? You’re OK!’

  I smiled. I couldn’t bring back the dead, but I could fix the living. I could undo the damage that had been done. Not just Lily; the others too. All the screechers, human again, back to the people they once were. The fires extinguished too, the burned-out buildings restored, all with just a thought.

  I turned my attention to the fiends I held frozen.

  ‘You are not supposed to be here,’ I said, and my voice carried silently around the globe. ‘It’s time you all went home.’

  I imagined a door thrown open wide enough for us all to pass through.

  I imagined a door leading through into an eternity of darkness.

  I imagined a door closing behind us, sealing us off from the world where I had once belonged.

  The blue strands disappeared. Something inside me went whoosh, and I suddenly felt very small. I could no longer hear atoms rubbing together. Could no longer see through any eyes but my own.

  Angry shapes moved in the gloom around me. A swirl of frosty mist prickled goosebumps on my skin.

  ‘What now?’ I whispered.

  ‘Now?’ said Mr Mumbles as his fingers tightened on my arm. ‘We run.’

  And run we did.

  Together.

  What had I expected to see? I wasn’t sure. It had been a long time, after all.

  How many decades was it since I’d stood on this spot? Five? Six? Time had little meaning in the Darkest Corners, and I’d stopped counting the days a lifetime ago.

  I breathed in through my nose, tasting the air. Fresh air. Real air.

  Real world.

  I ran my hand across the reception counter and caught my reflection in its polished sheen. Most of my hair had gone years back, but the moustache had been blossoming nicely for the past few months. I looked exactly as I remembered.