Celtics Rising: Birth of an Oracle

by Leo Charles Taylor

  Making his way to the roof, he opened the door and stepped out. He looked to the ground and found the door prop that he knew would be there; there was always a door prop for smokers or readers or people that enjoyed lunch on the roof. He placed it in the frame and made sure the door rested securely against it, ensuring he would not get locked out of the building.

  James made his way to the edge and looked out to the Puget Sound. It was getting darker, but he could still make out watercraft and the ferries that were busy shuttling commuters home; it was a very enjoyable view.

  The voices were louder than ever, and he could almost make some sense of the muttering. However, the more he tried to hear the less he understood. It was like listening to dogs bark—there might be something to it, but his mind didn't understand the language.

  James's vision was drawn down to the waterfront, and he could see exactly where the shadows had gone. Like a swarm of bees, they were dancing and scurrying about a construction site. James took a close look at the movement and tried to make sense of it. The shadows continued to fly about.

  There must be thousands, he thought.

  He looked at the equipment on the site and realized that he was looking at the new Seattle tunnel. It was in its infancy, and the crews were just breaking ground. Eventually, this tunnel would be a two lane road each way and would bypass the now decrepit Alaskan Way viaduct. The machinery was to bore under the Seattle business corridor and arrive near the south end of Lake Union—if it could do so without causing any buildings to collapse.

  The machinery currently stood quiet; even the construction lighting was turned off. However, enough daylight remained to discern the general layout of the dig, and James took a closer look. The shadows seemed to surround the northernmost section; a section that was heavily tarped off and sporting some odd trailers as well as non-construction equipment. He attempted to make out what they were, and his mind suddenly flashed to a news report from just a few days before.

  The blood pit, he thought.

  It was an odd bit of Seattle news that had been revealed with much excitement and much gossip. The tunnel crew had broken thru the ceiling of a 100 year old room that had been filled with blood. No one today knew anything about it, and it was a complete shock to the crew as well as the engineers when it was discovered. The most likely scenario, according to historians, was that the room had been attached to an old butcher or slaughterhouse. When the waterfront had been rebuilt a century before, the room had been sealed and covered with dirt, all in an attempt to raise the waterfront to a higher and more usable height.

  Uncovering the room revealed that it had somehow been hermetically sealed, and just like that a hundred years of blood had sat fermenting and remaining in its liquid state—a gory tale, to be sure, but interesting in its own right. The sheer size of the room led to a lot of wild gossip. This was no small amount of blood, as the pit was easily 20 feet deep. As James tried to remember the details, he recalled that the EPA was on site, attempting to assess any environmental danger from the pit and its contents.

  The shadows danced about the area but didn't get too close to the contents. Even though they acted curious, they seemed to avoid the pit. James watched as they moved about. He thought they looked like moths attracted to a flame. However, he couldn’t determine what they intended, if anything, or why exactly they were drawn to the site.

  The voices grew louder and the shadows more furious. James shook his head and fumbled in his jacket for the pills he knew were there. He pulled them free and took a deep breath as he stared at the bottle. His mind became jumbled with logic and emotion, and for the first time he actually believed, deep in his core, that he was going crazy. He slowly became angry as he stared at that bottle. He was pissed-off with his medical condition and pissed-off that he was now losing control of his mental acuity, the one thing he needed for his livelihood and the one thing that had always been there for him. He was even about to uncap the pills when his mind began to race with the possible side effects. He couldn’t get them out of his head: Constipation, nausea, muscle spasms, and many others symptoms raced through his mind. Those symptoms caused him to steel his anger.

  "Damn," he cried as he threw the bottle across the roof.

  It hit some heating equipment and bounced out of sight. James turned to the shadows and watched them dance. His view became clearer and he could see the shadows almost as individuals. They raced about the edge of the tarp-covered pit and feared to enter. His thoughts calmed slightly but his heightened emotion made him driven. A simple thought came to mind; he could only think of taking control of his life, much as he had done by contacting Jonah to get him on the trial. He needed that control, even in this situation as his mind began to crack— especially as his mind began to crack.

  "Take it," he whispered forcibly.

  The shadows stopped moving abruptly, and the voices in his head quieted. For a moment, James had peace, and the shadows provided a frozen tableau against the backdrop of the darkened waterfront.

  Slowly, a loud baritone scream arose in his mind and the shadows moved once again, combining into one column that ascended above the work site. As it had earlier, it resembled a flock of birds taking flight. The column crested and then dove into the pit. The scream in his mind also coalesced into a coherent sound. James watched in fascination. If he was going crazy, he was at least beginning to enjoy the wonderment of the experience.

  His eyes suddenly focused, and for a moment his vision zoomed to the pit. He could see blood gurgling upon the surface, and bones from animals long dead were arising from the pit. A cow's skull surfaced to be followed by bits of a pig and thousands of chicken bones. The sudden change in perception shocked James, and he gasped in surprise.

  He suddenly found himself alone on the roof of the building, his vision returning to normal and his mind cleared of auditory and visual hallucinations. He turned about and recovered his bearings. Confusion took hold for a moment before he returned his gaze to the construction site. It was much darker now, darker than he had realized, and he found it hard to believe that he had seen the area so well just moments before. From what he could determine, the site was calm and peaceful—nothing disturbed its solitude.

  James took a breath and focused on the pit area. His mind was now calm and curious.

  Such an odd hallucination, he thought.

  He recalled his articles on schizophrenia and several of the case studies. Some patients had actually learned to marvel at their condition. Their cases were so mentally odd that their logical mind could easily distinguish the falsity of the visions they saw. Rather than be scared by the misfiring sensory neurons, the patients learned to live with them, and enjoyed the odd dancing horse or singing panda that intruded upon their daily lives.

  As he watched the quiet waterfront, his mind cast about the area, curiously and thoughtfully. He slowly and consciously blinked, trying to recreate his vision. Suddenly, his eyes were upon the pit. The noise was back in his head, and he could once again see the construction area. It was as if it were illuminated by moonlight. He watched closely as the shadows swam around the pit, seemingly enjoying their sojourn.

  Blinking again, he found himself alone on the roof and finding it more difficult to see the ever darkening waterfront.

  That’s certainly odd, he thought.

  He hadn’t read of any patients with control of their hallucinations, at least not in this manner. He had read of lucid dreaming, but most of that research he chalked up to pop psychology. There wasn’t enough empirical evidence on the subject to allow him to support a belief in the matter. James took another breath and consciously blinked again. As before, his vision returned to the pit and he watched the shadows swim. As he did, his vision began to blur slowly and he became lightheaded.

  For a minute he felt his memories stir and his identity became confused. He suddenly forgot who he was and what he was doing. His mind exploded in pain, and his hand went to his face. He blinked rapidly and was a
gain returned to the darkness of the roof. He fell to his knees, his left arm going to the ground for support. It took a moment for him to gain his composure, and he began to breathe rapidly; it was as if he had been punched in the head. His breathing gradually slowed, and James pulled his hand away from his face; it was covered in blood.

  "Shit," he said as he grabbed for something in his jacket to stop the flow from his nose.

  He found a napkin and held it to his face as he stood and made his way to the roof's edge. It was dark, and he could see very little. He gently probed with his mind to the shadows that he believed to be out there, but he felt a pressure pushing back. He couldn’t explain it, but then again, he couldn’t explain any of this.

  A headache and a bloody nose were more symptoms for him to research, and he decided that he had had enough for the evening. He left the roof's edge, took time to locate the bottle of pills he had tossed, and then headed down the stairs and towards home.

  Arinai had raced to the water's edge when she had first felt the awkward pull of the shadows. She had seen them dancing and had watched in awe as they moved about. Their dive into the blood pit was a magnificent sight to behold; it was terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

  She could also feel the presence of the man she was searching for. However, she couldn’t locate him. An attempt to pierce his mind was met with little resistance at first but had been cut off abruptly. Looking towards the buildings around her, she could immediately pick out the one where he stood. When he made his way to the ledge, peering over to the waterfront, she looked closely at him, focusing her vision across the great distance. She recognized the face: it was the same one from her dreams. However, he didn't see her and she didn't know why. She, however, could make him out clearly, even at this distance and in this low light. She pressed again at his mind and could feel him briefly reach out to hers before retreating in a fashion that she was unfamiliar with.

  Before she could respond, he moved away from the edge and became invisible to all her senses. Moving rapidly, she headed across the waterfront to his former location, but the distance was too great. It took several minutes for her to reach the destination, and by the time she arrived at the building he was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 3

  Wars raged through James' mind, and sleep became a chore rather than the respite that one often craves. Names came to him and faces as well. He seemed to recall ancient cities and even some of the people that lived in them as they took up weapons to defend themselves. The scenes were brutal and quickly brought James to his own need for violence. Fighting for consciousness, he overcame the drowsiness of his body and sat up. He looked at the clock; it was only 11pm.

  James was familiar with this feeling of restlessness and knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Resigned to his fate, he pulled the covers away, stood, and made his way to the kitchen, leaving the lights off as he did. The hallway was short and soon opened into a spacious living room with an ornate kitchen just to the side; the two areas were separated only by tile, carpet, and a marble covered island.

  The outer walls of this section of his apartment were actually glass and offered a stunning view of the waterway to the west. James took a deep breath, let it out, and stared at the Puget Sound and the bordering landmasses across the way. The darkness of the night gave way to a bright moon that provided enough light to cast the landscape into a peaceful and alluring view. For a moment, James thought about turning on the lights, but decided against it. Besides, his shadows were keeping him company, and there was enough light for him to get a glass of water.

  He all but ignored the shadows now. Their odd actions of a few days prior hadn’t been repeated; the dark annoyances had returned to their former habit of maintaining their distance. Water cascaded into a glass, and within seconds James found himself drinking slowly as he stood at his windows, half naked and watching the world before him.

  An odd scent slowly wafted before him, and he furrowed his brow as he cast his mind for it.

  Lilacs, he thought curiously. Turning about, he scanned his apartment for the source but couldn’t find its origin.

  The dreams of his sleep invaded his mind again. He could remember the battles—they had seemed so real. The fact that they were battles of the sword with regiments of infantry as well as cavalry amused him. However, what was more intriguing was his emotional state. He was aggressive, angry, and horny.

  Must have been REM sleep, he mused as he recalled the high level of aggression associated with that particular form of deep sleep.

  He adjusted himself as his body took it upon itself to react to his mental arousal. He may have to do something about that, but at the moment he was just trying to figure out if he should go back to bed. The lilac smell came again, and he moved about trying to find it. He walked the length of the room and entered the hallway. An image of a woman flashed through his mind, and he could almost make out a face. It was an odd sensation. He thought it was a memory, but it was not a memory that readily came to mind.

  James made his way to his bedroom and the scent grew stronger. His body continued to be aroused, and he realized the scent was a perfume. Something that he had smelled recently and been attracted to. Of course, he had always liked the scent of lilac perfume.

  He reached his bedroom and turned on the light. His retinas flashed with the assault of illumination, and he experienced an image of a woman in his room tearing madly at her lover's clothes as she bit and clawed him with passion. It took a moment for him to realize the man was himself. Another odd memory, but still nothing that he could easily recall. He had the oddest sensation that he had had sex with this woman, he just couldn’t remember when. He had lived in this apartment for less than a year, so it couldn’t have been that long ago. Shaking his head, he concentrated on the memory. This, of course, only caused the memory to run away for him.

  He chuckled to himself as he thought about the woman and the night they might have shared. It was one thing to forget a woman's name, but to forget the event altogether was something else. He still couldn’t remember it fully and had to conclude that either it had never happened, or that he had been very drunk. As he continued to recall the bits that had crossed his mind, the sex and the woman took on the feel of a dream, and those images began to blend into his increasingly emotional state—he was getting horny again.

  James sighed for a moment.

  "What the hell," he said as he resigned himself to being awake.

  James got dressed quickly and prepared to leave, determined to do anything except sit in his apartment all night. After taking a quick moment to verify that he had his access card for re-entry to the building, he headed to the lobby and out the secured front doors, wishing a good night to the attendant on duty as he did. His mind absently guided him along the streets, and he soon discovered that he was headed north to Belltown. It was several blocks away but was sure to offer him something to eat and drink; the area was mostly bars. It didn't take long to pass the market and then enter the newly renovated area of Seattle. It was coming along nicely. Every other building was a pub or restaurant of some sort, and the younger crowd certainly liked the area. The odd bum could be seen wandering around, but that was forgivable; it hadn’t been too long ago that this area of town wasn’t anything but decrepit buildings and homeless people.

  The smell of lilacs wafted through the air, and James perked up as the scent hit him. Curious, he followed the aroma as best he could. That course of action turned out to be about five feet before he realized he wasn’t a dog and wasn’t going to have any luck with that trick. He turned his head around to determine if anyone locally might be wearing perfume, but there was no one near enough that could be the source. Sighing, he continued on.

  He passed one bar after another, glancing at the sandwich boards on the street. This one had burgers, that one had fish and chips. Nothing struck his fancy, so he continued on. Eventually, he found himself outside of a themed bar—they all seemed to have
themes in Belltown. This one was football.

  The door was propped open, as were the large bay windows in front. The oddly shaped tables and chairs, both inside and outside, appeared to be full with this generation's version of yuppies. Nice enough people, but James couldn’t relate; he preferred to avoid the seemingly false sense of wealth and fine taste. Still, he felt comfortable with the restaurant. It also appeared to serve porter, so he decided to make his way to the bar.

  Before he could get the attention of the barman, he saw her. She was on the far side of the bar flirting with a young man who appeared to be making every effort to get into her pants. James recognized her instantly from his memory. Or was it a dream? he thought.

  He tilted his head and watched as she coyly chatted with her companion. James felt oddly attracted to her, and his body began to return to a state of arousal. The thought occurred to him that he should ask for her name, but then he realized how much of an ass he would appear to be. Perhaps she would even hit him for forgetting her and not calling the next day.

  Deciding to play it safe, James settled for a tactical retreat. He was about to leave and avoid her accidentally spying him when he realized it was too late. She was looking at him with an odd expression.

  Damn, he thought and did the only thing he could do, he smiled and nodded kindly. The woman didn't notice.

  James furrowed his brow slightly and took another look at the woman. He followed her eyes more closely and realized that she wasn’t interested in him, but something outside. Turning casually, he looked out of the bar to the street. With the oversized front windows retracted, it appeared as if the bar had no outer wall, making the general atmosphere inviting while allowing a cool breeze to circulate among the patrons.