Hold the Light

by Ryan Sherwood

  The night crept close and it became hard to read Randy's note. I tripped on the road and my hat sailed away, rolling like a coin down the path. I looked up from the dirt and watched it bounce off a grave in the distance. Dusting myself off, I felt in my pocket for my yellow piece of paper. Sighing in relief, I stood and retrieved my hat.

  Gazing at the inscription on the grave, I fixed on the words that spoke to me, that told me why I was there; the reason this place looked familiar. I couldn't place it before. I wasn't paying attention the first time. I was lost in the pain of her funeral.

  While reading the gravestone of my wife, I felt stupid that I never was able to connect that Jessica and Randy were both buried in this cemetery.

  I bent over and read the description on her grave. My fingers caressed the engraving that spelled her name. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes but I wiped them away before they did so. This was redemption, not despondency. I smiled at her and glanced at the directions in my hand. I had to get going before the light left completely. Thankfully, leaving her then was easier than when she left me.

  Knees cracking as I stood, nausea encircled my stomach and head, forcing me to brace on her gravestone. I shook it off and grabbed my lantern, but before leaving, I placed a kiss on my hand and pressed my palm atop her stone, hoping she felt it.

  My stomach erupted with more pain. I brushed that aside and shuffled off towards a sagging oak tree perched on a hill that overlooked a distant harbor. Once under the branches, I sat before Randy's gravestone and felt relief for the first time in what felt like ages.

  The sun was in its final retreat, taking all the lingering light from the graveyard, and yanking it over the horizon in a swift pull, stealing all the security I had left. I have been waiting for this moment for quite some time, whether I knew it or not. The thought weakened me. My vision blurred as my mind wouldn't stop wandering. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as the most exact touch of deja vu hit me.

  I had to calm myself because this was the hard part. Hard because I wasn't sure what was going to happen but no longer frightening was the unknown. On top of the hill, overlooking a dark and shadowy graveyard with the languid city lights in the distance, I placed the lantern down and thought back on my life. The details eluded me but from somewhere in the forgotten depths of what I hoped was my youth, a surprise phrase surged to my lips so hard that I blurted it out.

  "I am the lantern and you are the light."

  The blues and blacks of the night were banished and I sat patiently waiting for the light.

  Basking in the new light of that desolate night, I found I was not young again, and not back in college, but I did find the lantern had lit somehow.

  Chapter 75

  The wind picked up and dried my eyes. I blinked and my lids were intolerably heavy. The lantern lit a small radius, a strangely blue radius instead of yellow like it should, reminding all too much of the light inside me. The light I no longer held. The inscriptions on the surrounding gravestones stood out as if they were being shouted out in an eerie sapphire shade.

  I reached out for the words on Randy's grave and saw my trembling hand was stained a dark maroon. I looked at my hand curiously, wondering what was on it, when my fingers connected with a wall of cold. A shiver weaved down my spine and limbs. My outstretched fingers halted and the chill encompassed me before I had even touched the gravestone.

  I was rendered immobile as an internal patch of ice proliferated over every inch of me. I felt thwarted. Stopped so close. No, I wouldn't be stopped.

  The only part of me that was thawed was my eyes and they darted about, surveying the area for threats. I was defenseless and obvious, marked by the only light around.

  A scratching sensation filled my eyes and a bulging pressure mounted behind them. Tears waited to flow, but froze on my lashes. My heart beat heavily and tears fell. I watched them plummet into the emptiness of an ominous before me. I blinked furiously to clear my eyes.

  "Why? How?"

  My brain ferried wasted words to my tongue. I gazed up into the night sky, no longer able to bear the bane of the familiar silhouette that crouched before me. My chaotic mind struggled to grasp reality and I instinctively yearned to flee. The impulses shot instructions to my feet to run, but they were firm and stubborn. I was trapped. My fear ran rampant but I slowly managed to subdue it, knowing my struggles were futile. I had to remain lucid to discover a way out of this rout.

  I watched the fastidious stars in the navy sky stretch backwards in tenuous bright streaks. Serenity took me. My body wouldn't run away so my mind did instead; it barreled right into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 76

  I awoke to almost familiar sensation of nausea. Freezing and so tired, I craved to sleep away suffering. My joints and sockets strained as I slowly stirred. I raised my head. The light from my lantern flickered on the gravestone and illuminated the outline of a hand holding on to mine. My heart skipped a beat and my mind froze in panic. My jaw swung back and forth, as I was blessed with more movement, while I wasted that gift with incoherent babbles, managing only one real word.

  "Amber?"

  Her hand clasped mine so tightly that I thought she was the marble tombstone. I whimpered under the force and gazed up at her. Her black hair disappeared into the drapery of night and all I could see was her bright face. Her eyes were sunken dark pools and her features almost glowed in the lamplight.

  Nothing felt right; my heart sank deep in my ribcage the more I saw her smile at me. Those lips spoke without uttering a word. She helped me up by the hand. As I slowly rose, shedding the immobility of fear had held me, I heard scraping sounds of metal on stone. Shivers shot down my spine as Amber slid our father's sword along the tombstone. It was a hideous sound. I squinted to look at her; the lantern was barely lighting her face. It shone past her, ignoring her like it was ashamed to go near.

  "Yup, I'm here" she answered. "You don't look so hot."

  She let go my hand and I crashed backwards onto the grass and tumbled away with the momentum. I rolled down the wet hill, watching the sky appear and disappear, as I somersaulted until my head slammed hard against the ground. I slumped against the bottom of the hill.

  Shrill and intense pain pulsed in my waist. I hadn't the energy to ignore the pain so I finally decided to inspect the wound I had been ignoring since the car crash. I gently brushed my hand along my shirt and pulled back a thick viscous liquid that seeped between my fingers. Confused, I raised my hand to my face and saw blood.

  More blood than I had ever seen.

  I looked down and gawked surprise. My shirt and pants were completely saturated. I tried to stand but must have misplaced the energy and instead resigned to kneel.

  My consciousness flowed out with my blood. I watched the maroon droplets play out an almost comedic repetition that would have been funny if it wasn't my blood. They repeatedly, like diligent little morons, rose from my clothes to scurry back to the wound, eager to reenter, to only be slapped away, repelled from the overpowering outward flow of their siblings.

  I sent my finger back to the wound to investigate further, eager to stop this futile battle and felt a sharp prick. I lifted my shirt and saw a gleaming, almost smiling metal shard peeking out from deep within. I probed my fingers deeper into my flesh, cringing as I felt my innards, but I couldn't judge the size of the shrapnel or grab it. My efforts opened the gash further as I tried to find a small grip on the piece. My fingers slid across the blood-soaked metal thwarting every attempt. I couldn't remove it.

  My head swirled and my energy drained further. I found a grave nearby to focus on and crawled towards it. As I inched along on all fours, I watched my blood fall in a thin yet steady stream down to the dark cool grass and cheered on the smaller, though stout stream of returning blood running against gravity and back to me. But I couldn't watch long. Didn't want to, my eyes were so heavy. With each movement, with each breath, I longed to stop and sleep.

  But I pressed on, stra
ngely inspired by my own blood as it relentlessly tried to return. I pushed onwards, gritting my teeth until I crashed against the gravestone. I smiled as I read Jessica's name on the stone.

  "Keep it up," I heard a female voice say.

  Head drooping with sting of sweaty hair in my eyes, I looked up to Amber. She was smirking from above; hand on the sword hilt with its tip in the dirt. Crouching down, keeping the sword still, she spoke into my face.

  "Almost dead brother?"

  "Help, help me Amber"

  "No. I think I'll watch you bleed to death," she said, and looked right into my eyes. "And take what's inside you."

  "No, oh God, no. Amber, don't do it."

  "Sorry, George, it's too powerful to pass up."

  My head drooped. I had to fight to stay awake. All I wanted was sleep. My eyelids were so heavy. My blinks were slow and drawn out. I saw images of Jessica when my eyes were shut. My limbs grew too heavy to move. Oh God, how could Amber do this to me?

  Sleep invaded like a bitter enemy and pushed fiercely against my eyelids. I struggled to retaliate until warmth tickled my face. I cracked a faint smile as my eyes slid open.

  I had no idea what to expect to see, but to find a strange weaving fire was surely at the bottom of the list. Small sparks shot from the blaze and rocketed into the air like shooting stars. I watched in childlike wonderment as the sparks exploded. Curiosity made me search for the source. My eyes followed a trail that lead to the lantern atop the hill. I blinked in confusion.

  The fire before me burned with more power and illumination than that little old lantern could ever possess.

  I was hallucinating. Yes, had to be. Seeing things in the throes of death.

  But no matter how I tried to convince myself, the flames burned in a chaotic yet gentle manner. Its warmth permeated my pores and melted the ice within me. As the cold beneath my skin receded, the grips on my throat and chest grew weaker and the gift's feel became distant, feebly echoing from the depths of my mind. For the first time in years I was warm.

  Yet, at the same time, I began to loose feeling. My limbs tingled and began to go numb. Amber drew in closer.

  My bottom lip peeled away from the top and cracked a small opening between my lips. The back of my jaw stung. A chill so cold it burned swelled on the back of my tongue and projected a thin blue radiance from my mouth. It shone directly into Amber's eyes.

  "Yes," she greedily beckoned. "Come on now, come to me..."

  Her laughter rang out loud and malevolent. I wanted to scream as I watched her slowly assimilate the gift, but serenity engulfed my worries. What I wanted didn't seem to be of much consequence any longer.

  The cold of the gift gripped my heart one last time, in an earnest and pathetic scream, but as of then, tranquility coursed through my brain. I couldn't have cared less. Then, I felt the gift no more. It seeped from my lips in slow viscous dribbles, drooling all the way to the damp grass. The gift, slobbering from my mouth, gathered in a dull neon blue pool at my knees and shimmered in the moonlight. I stared in a stupor at the mighty gift, the ruin of so many lives, as it puddle together looking no greater than a glob of toothpaste.

  As the last bit of slaver suspended from my lips fell, the puddle began to congeal. A black crust formed along the fringes, rapidly dulling the azure luster. The shell expanded beyond the edges and grew like a scab until it swallowed the blue sheen. The brilliant blue gift sat before us, after spewing from my mouth as weak vomit, in the dark slick grass like a navy blue lump of coal.

  Last bits of motion manifested in my fingers as they pathetically twitched toward the granite looking gift. They didn't come near and I collapsed onto the headstone and rolled off it onto my back.

  The last of my blood trickled from my wound. Not a single globule tried to reenter. Blood was everywhere. It was as if my eyes were tinted red. My hand timidly scuttled across my chest and fumbled around the inside of my coat until my fingers found my yellow piece of paper.

  "Amber don't," I gasped. "It'll turn you ..."

  "Of course it will," she interrupted. "I'll be powerful and use this the way you should've."

  The gift sat quietly on the ground, as innocent as a fallen apple. Amber poked at it with the point of the sword. She pulled a thick glove from her back pocket and put it on. I stared into her eyes. Her betrayal sat heavily on the air between us.

  "Please Amber, just let it go."

  "No way. Besides, that's my plan for you. Dad always said, 'Never waste an opportunity.'"

  "You'll regret this," I wheezed.

  "Power buys forgiveness," she said and pinched the gift between her gloved fingers.

  Amber gazed at it with awe and wonder as it rested comfortably on her palm. I could see her pondering how she could manipulate it to her will. She seemed prepared to handle the gift and her victory filled her eyes, but hadn't clue where to begin.

  Leaning in close to the rock of a gift, her lips so near she looked to be kissing it, Amber whispered one short phrase to the chunk through a wide toothy grin.

  Then it twitched. She gazed at the gift inquisitively. It shuddered again.

  A strange utterance emanated from her gloved hand that cut through the autumn air. I almost missed the sound as it landed softly on my ears. It was meant for Amber, but I heard it.

  "Centuries of sorrow, all for you."

  Her eyes widened to saucers. The gift's dullness peeled away and it began to pulse. A blast of blue light shot directly at her. Weak and dying, I watched as she received all the gift had absorbed from its three hosts. Amber's face contorted in shudders of anguish. All the loss and suffering of our worlds hit her in a moment. She gnashed her teeth then screamed into the night air. Her breath puffed out and spiraled up to the treetops. She reeled under the weight of the gift's tortures. Under the weight of holding the light. All the carnage of the last two centuries ran through her.

  She crashed to her knees and begged for mercy. Her pleas fell on the deaf. The gift tumbled from her fingers and fell to the ground beside her. I wanted to feel sorry for her. I wanted to help, but my sympathies were dying with me.

  My fingers closed over the crumpled piece of yellow paper and I slowly unfolded it. I bore my soul to the open air. I tried to read the note but couldn't. All strength left my fingers and the note quietly slipped away. It swayed back and forth in the breeze until it hit the ground. I rolled to my side and let my arms collapse around Jessica's grave and squeezed it with every ounce of strength I had left. Every ounce I had left to her.

  Chapter 77

  And then I felt it again. It wasn't truly sensual, but more of a knowledge of my organs peacefully deciding to stop.

  Trying to stay focused on something, I looked past Amber quivering in the dirt and spied the legs a figure walking towards us. I figured nothing could keep me on this God-forsaken Earth any longer, so I looked away, not caring who it was. I averted my gaze up to the moon. It stared at me again, but this time I knew it couldn't hurt me anymore. No more pain; a tune that I haven't heard in years.

  "No," a low booming voice uttered in anger.

  My eyes darted to the voice's origin and landed on the dark figure I knew to be the demon. It strolled up next to Amber, shaking its head in disgust.

  "You see that, puppet?" it said to me. "You see that? And you trusted her!" A billowing laugh screamed from its mouth. "You have been most interesting to watch. More entertaining than any other puppet before you. But nevertheless, I've had my fill."

  The wind blew but the demon's cloak didn't budge. Its black and ragged robes slithered with the shadows and against the wind. They snaked through the grass towards my feet. Its red eyes peaked from beneath its hood and stabbed at me.

  Amber raged in a fit in the background and the demon's voice boomed before me. Dark shadows entangled my legs. The demon's cracked and blackened hands slid free from its robes and reached out to open air. The gift lifted from the grass and floated to its hand. His tattered robes tightened and dragged me fo
rwards. I hadn't the energy to struggle against the cloth restraints. They pulled me before him and stood me upright. Lacking the will to breathe, I stood suspended before the demon, completely at its mercy.

  "Now you will experience pain, puppet. Now you will feel death as I intend it."

  The blood that flowed from me stopped. My weakness began to diminish. Strangely enough, I began to revive. The demon's eyes were burning coals of anger, piercing through the night, and right at me. More strength built within me.

  "You haven't felt pain until you've felt what I've been through," it whispered into my ear.

  My skin burned and the smell sizzled into the air. My hair singed and the fetor stung my nose. I hung like a limp sack, jittering in shocks of torture, as the demon laughed in my face. His breath was rank. I gritted my teeth not wanting to show weakness, but tears welled in my eyes. The pain was unbearable. Heat ate my skin. My organs felt like they were decomposing.