by J B Murray
“To put an end to this! So try to keep up! That is,” Jakob turns momentarily to add. “If you’re coming?”
BEYOND THE VEIL
BEYOND THE VEIL…
Brent wants to scream, but something inside keeps him from doing so. He’s a mixed bag. Part of him is afraid beyond belief. This man snatched him up. Is taking him away. Though part of him feels some recognition. There’s something familiar about the man as well. It’s almost as if the man is in his head. A voice keeps repeated to him, ‘it’s all right - everything will be fine - don’t worry’. He’s not sure what to think. At the moment, he’s nothing short of terrified and confused. But he can also sees parts of what this man is thinking. He doesn’t understand it all.
The man slams the door behind him, just missing the figure coming toward him at a trot from down the hall. He stays some time at the door, pulling the handle from the other side. Holds it tight so it can’t be turned. Not that he needs to. There’s more than a good chance the door would lock by itself. The man who came toward him didn’t seem to possess the knowledge to unlock the doors. If he had, then why rush this way? But one can never be too careful.
The banging on the door is loud. He concentrates; stays focused on keeping the handle from turning while also controlling some of the boy’s thoughts. If the kid yells out, this whole thing could be over. Best to play it off, if the kid keeps quiet, to make the man on the other side think the door is stuck and those who entered are long gone. He doesn’t even know how much the man saw exactly. He tried to be swift, kicking up dust running as fast as he could with the kid in his arms till he found the correct door. He feels fortunate at the moment he’d thought to mark it in the first place. He knew enough to fear the hallway and its doors. He’d spent some time reconnoitering them, and learned which would be his best chances for an exit. Sure enough, here they were.
He lets go the handle finally, assured the man on the other side moved on. He hears the attempted turning of handles fading down the hall. He snickers, thinking if that man turns the wrong one, his night is about to get worse. But it’s of little consequence to him. He has work to do.
Setting the child down, he squats before him. The boy hasn’t started to cry yet. This is good. But he looks frightened enough. As he should be. If the kid only knew what was about to happen, he’d be screaming his head off for sure. Although, the kid doesn’t look too bright. A little slow maybe? This could work to his benefit. So maybe even if the kid knew what was to transpire, he might not have the mental fortitude to let it concern him. Plus, if things got too heated, he could always root around in the boy’s head and develop the thoughts necessary to calm him. At least until that final moment comes.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says to the boy.
“You’re not?”
“No, don’t be silly. I’m here to help you.”
“Help?”
“Yes. That man you were with. The one with the funny looking glasses and cane. He’s a bad man. A very bad man.”
“He doesn’t seem-”
“Oh, but he is! The baddest of them all.” It pains him to have to speak like this. A man of his intellect should never have to resort to using lesser vocabulary than accustomed. And he loathes people who talk to their children like they are children. But what else can he do? Things need to keep proceeding. “So very, very bad.”
“Very bad.”
“Yes. That’s why I took you. To keep you safe. What is your name?”
“Brent. But what about brother? And Annie?”
“Your brother and that girl are safe for now. I assure you. No harm will come of them.”
“I’m scared for Gary.”
“I’m sure you are. But once I get you to safety, I can go back for the others.”
“My brother?”
“Yes. Yes, and the girl too.”
“Annie.”
“Yes, Annie as well. But I need you to help me.”
“Ok,” Brent says.
“I need you to come with me.”
“Where we go?”
“Someplace safe. Some place far away from here. And once we’re there, and I know you’re safe from the bad man, I will go back and get your brother and Annie.”
“Ok.”
“I don’t exactly understand what’s going on?” Reynolds offers.
“Someone took my brother,” Garrison answers. He’s on the coat tails of Jakob, Annalise on one side of him, Reynolds on the other. Jakob sets a good pace.
“Yeah but… sorry… where the hell am I?”
“Hell?” Jakob adds. “Far from it I must admit. But not as far as you’d think.”
“You’re in the in-between,” Annalise states.
“The Great Beyond,” Jakob corrects.
“Right,” Reynolds concedes. “And what the hell is that?”
Here Jakob comes to an abrupt halt. Garrison and Annalise nearly collide into the man. He spins on heel and taps his cane on the ground. In the near dark the three of them strain to see. But Jakob sees just fine as things are. He looks from one to the next, then the other, finally settling his eyes on Reynolds.
“Are you dead?” He asks.
“Dead?” Reynolds questions aghast.
“It’s not a difficult question sir. Are… you… dead?”
“I… well… I don’t know.”
“I withdraw my opinion then. Apparently it is a difficult question.”
“Should I be?”
“You mean, dead?”
“Yeah.”
“You might be for all I know.”
“I was in a car crash. In a storm.”
“And?”
“And I went walking. I was trying to find someplace warm, out of the snow.
“And?” Jakob prods, growing impatient.
“I came upon a farmhouse. The thing was falling in on itself. But… well… but there was this light.”
“A light?”
“Yes and no. It glowed, but didn’t really shine I guess. Not a real light. Nothing like I’d ever seen before. And there were these… I don’t know… tiny stars floating in it.” Annalise gasps.
“Just like what we came through,” she says in a near whisper.
“The Veil,” Jakob states.
“Veil?”
“The Veil my good sir. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’ve little time for this. You are either dead on your road in the snow, or nearing death. Your soul is fickle. It clings to a reality you may never once again see. I don’t sense someone’s gained control you. Your soul appears rather independent. It’s intact, still within you. But you linger, between here and there. So it’s the only explanation of how you could come to be here.”
“I still don’t-”
“No, and for now you won’t. We must keep moving.”
Jakob turns again and saunters on. His feet move over the ground, assured and confident. The others stumble a bit, trying to keep pace and their sights on Jakob. The dark in the hall is disturbing. Not a single light anywhere. Beyond Jakob, neither Garrison nor Annalise can cut it with their eyes. Reynolds knows this of course. He’s already been through this. The oddity of it all. How the hall holds the faintest illumination, only within the direct surroundings of your person. Everything ahead or behind plunges into nothingness.
It seems they’ve been walking quite some time, and Garrison wonders how Jakob knows which door they seek. At the beginning of their journey, Jakob simply insisted he’d know when he saw it.
“Are you, like me?” Reynolds asks the two kids.
“Like you?”
“Well… almost dead, I guess?” Reynolds expounds. “Or… maybe dead.” Annalise shivers.
“I don’t think so.”
“How’s that.”
“It seems to work different for us,” Garrison continues. “My little brother is the reason we’re here. Jakob thinks he’s the reason the Veil is as thin as it is.”
“Your bother is… dead?”
“No. He’s… I don’t know.”
“Possessed,” Annalise chimes in.
“Possessed?” Reynolds laughs at the notion.
“Something like that,” Garrison answers. The resolve on his face gives Reynolds pause though, and he stifles his laughter.
“Shhh!” Jakob insists from a few feet ahead. They hadn’t seen him come to a stop.
“What is-”
“Shhh!” He hushes even louder, teeth grit together with a look of fright on his face. He turns to face the three. “Was this open when you came along this hallway?” He asks Reynolds in a whisper.
“I… I don’t know. I may have-”
“Did you open it?”
“I may have. Yes. I was looking for a way-”
“Shhh.” Jakob turns his head to the side, angling to listen. “Quickly,” He mutters through clenched teeth. “Move beyond me. And no matter what you do, do not stop.”
“What is it?” Garrison asks.
“Hear me boy, and hear me well. Move. Now. And remain quiet.”
Garrison looks up at Reynolds, then to Annalise. Reynolds nods putting a firm hand on both of their shoulders and pushes them gently forward. Garrison turns back a few feet down the hall, trying to see what scared Jakob so. But the man is swallowed by the dark.
2
2.
Brent trails the man down several long hallways. The first is as dark as any he’s been in. But the man seems to know his way well enough. This one spills out into another, running across the latter. To their left, darkness. To their right, just the slightest glow of illumination. The man turns and moves in that direction. Brent follows. He’s glad at least the man put him down. Lets him walk on his own. It wasn’t very comfortable being carried all that way.
“Hurry,” the man insists as Brent starts to fall behind.
His little feet scurry to find purchase on the concrete floor and keep up. At the end of the hall they stop at a door. The man looks at it as if he were taking it in. He puts an ear to the surface; listens. When Brent begins to say something the man snaps a finger to his lips. After a time he looks satisfied and reaches for the handle. He turns it, pulls the door open, and without ushering another word reaches for Brent’s arm and tugs him through. The door eases shut behind them.
There is a room on the other side of the door. It feels colder than the hall they just came from. Chilly. The air is dry and crisp. The room is long and narrow. The walls to either side are painted black. On them, a multitude of symbols shimmer in silvery paint. Brent’s eyes are drawn to them directly. He sees differently than most. And this remains the case now, as the metallic colors pulse in phosphorescent outlines. To Brent, they look alive.
The man can’t help but smile. He knows what the boy is seeing. And the fact that Brent is seeing it, means all his hard work is about to pay off. He’d spent an undetermined amount of time trying to dig the symbols from the reaches of his mind. What comes next would be so much easier if he had access to his research material. His books. His notes. But all of those are off limits. He’s stuck here, in this Great Beyond as they call it. Stuck with nothing more than memories and his wits. But not for too much longer.
Reynolds tugs at the two, ushering them to keep moving. He hasn’t the faintest idea what the other man is referring to, only that, the look on his face is enough for Reynolds to consider they might all be in danger. Further down the hall, rounding a corner, Jakob falls completely from view. Garrison looks back time and again, trying to see what startled the man so. A scream cuts the dark; an animalistic roar. Reynolds snaps around, pushing the two kids behind him protectively, readying himself for something to come charging down the hall.
Being as quiet and calm as he can, Jakob leans in to close the door. Just as his hand makes contact with its surface, it comes bursting open, nearly crashing off its hinges. Jakob stumbles back, dropping his cane in the process as his feet scramble to keep him upright. The roar from within is almost enough to knock him off his feet. His heart races. Standing on the other side of the hall, he looks forward. The door sits askew, hanging by a solitary hinge, wide open. The hall might be dark, but beyond the doorframe things grow nonexistent. The black hole swallows up any visage whatsoever. Lucky for Jakob, he sees with more than just his good eye.
“Don’t do this,” he says to the doorway. A grumble returns.
There’s a shuffle in the doorway, just behind the line of pitch black. A grunt resounds, and the hot air blown from the mouth of the creature within reaches Jakob in tendrils of rotting meat and vegetal decay. The warmth of it turns Jakob’s stomach, makes him cringe and pull back in the slightest. But it’s not enough to challenge his resolve.
“I couldn’t be more clear. Stay where you are. I’d prefer to go on my way and have you returned to whence you came.”
A roar fills the hall again. Jakob takes a step back, though straightens himself. He flattens his suit coat with both hands, as if he’d just stood from the dinner table and asked to be excused.
The three down the hall jump back. Annalise lets out a yelp, though none of them can see beyond the turn in the hall, nor through the darkness residing there. She clutches at Garrison’s hand. He takes hold though struggles to stifle the fear he feels as well. When the roar comes a third time, none of them can even begin to gather what manner of beast it might be coming from. This one is drawn out, long, almost daring a warning.
“What do you-”
“I have no idea,” Reynolds answers before Garrison can finish the question.
“What about Jakob?” Annalise adds.
Reynolds turns to her. He raises his eyebrows, not even remotely having an answer for her and shrugs his shoulders.
Jakob shakes his head at the doorway, gritting his teeth. His irritation has reached its peak. It’s obvious to him now that there’ll be no choice. He’ll only have one recourse. As much as he’d prefer to forgo it, it is, after all, the reason he’s in this position. A part of his job.
“Very well,” he states matter-of-factly to the shadow in the door. “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”
The flash of light is blinding! All three startle again, Annalise almost falling backward. Garrison raises his hands to his eyes, shielding them from the light. They all sense the burning. Feel it behind their lids. A slight tinge of sulfur and fire. It’s almost palpable. The smell that wafts through the air, making its way up the hall stings the nose. Burnt flesh and hot metal. Yet there’s a hint of wild flower beneath it all. A sweet scent that’s hard to place. It comes in an explosive burst, behind it a painful howl, before all at once, it’s over.
“Just take a seat,” the man tells Brent.
“Are you gonna go get Gary?”
“Sit,” he hisses at the child.
“But you said-”
“Sit!” The man bellows, looming over the little boy. Brent cowers, taking several steps backward, tripping into the chair set out for him.
Without any warning, the man grabs Brent under the arm and hoists him square onto the chair. When Brent squirms, the man backhands the child across the face. Brent, stunned as the pain in his cheek starts to build, opens his mouth to cry. The man clasps his hand over his mouth, bending till their eyes are level.
“If you usher one, tiny whimper… I will gladly pluck your tongue from your mouth. I know you’re simple, but I don’t doubt for one moment you don’t comprehend what I’m saying. Now… shut it.”
Brent’s eyes gloss over with tears, but he clamps his lips shut, trying desperately to stifle any sound. Would this man really tear out his tongue? Looking at him, Brent can’t help but think… yes, yes he will. He won’t hesitate for a moment.
The man reaches behind Brent, pulling up long lengths of rope. He drapes one over each of the boy’s shoulders, slinking them beneath the chair then bringing them up again around the boy’s legs. He cinches the two lengths into a sloppy knot at Brent’s waist, before wrapping the remaining lengths a
round his arms, pinning them to his sides. He pulls the end forward and ties them off with quick knot. With a finger, he swipes the boy’s cheek, catching the tears that’ve fallen there. He whispers something Brent can’t hear, then places the finger on the final knot he’d made. At once, all the bindings grow tight, snug. Brent squirms a little, testing his confines, but when the man eyes him, those dark orbs beneath the thick eyebrows and bald head make him reconsider. He stills.
3
3.
Silence fills the hall, engulfing the three of them as they stare off toward the diminishing scream. In turn, they look at one another, not sure their next move. Reynolds considers moving forward, as Jakob requested, but he’s unsure where to lead the other two. He doesn’t remember exactly the door he’d seen the man disappear behind. That would seem their destination at this point. And he knows nothing else of this world he’s somehow stepped into. For once in his life, Reynolds feels lost. Out of his depth.
The ticking of the cane garners their attention. Their heads pop up, eyes squint to see into the darkness as the clicking on the paved ground below echoes in the dark. He looks as if he might be limping at first, but then Jakob comes into full view of his three companions and he straightens himself, relinquishing the defect.