Hell

by Tom Lewis

  She looked back at the ocean and sky and took a moment to shake off those disturbing thoughts. She needed to put herself back into the mind of that happy hopeful girl from the before — a girl she hoped still lived inside her somewhere.

  With a deep breath, she flipped to a blank page and began writing. Her initial inspirations were of the colorful autumn days of her youth when the world had seemed magical. It had been filled with the innocent delights of spending afternoons at the park while her dad coached; of raking leaves with Justin, and jumping into them; of long strolls through the forest, enjoying the sights and smells; of playing with Rex; of the fresh smell that followed a New England rain shower; and of the rainbows that had colored her childhood skies.

  She continued on, but as she wrote, she felt those memories drifting further and further away till they were mere specks in the distance; and something ominous was taking their place. She began to feel a peculiar pressure in her head, as if something was seeking entry into her thoughts and mind. Somewhere, just beyond the reach of her awareness, thoughts were forming and being pressed on her. And while it was her mind that was being forced into consent, those thoughts hadn’t come from her.

  She panicked — something was forcing its way into her mind, and it was doing so with brutal determination. She struggled to resist, but it proved relentless, as it probed for openings into her thoughts and imagination.

  She needed to shut off her imagination and thoughts. Even the thought of thoughts needed to stop, as she no longer trusted her mind to discern which were hers and which came from outside.

  She closed her eyes and focused on one singular mantra — don’t think.

  Despite her efforts, pieces of that outside filth oozed in, flooding her imagination with grotesqueness and horror. A crushing despair seized her. She would see her dad one moment, happily coaching baseball on those summer afternoons... then watch as maggots burrowed from his bloated corpse...

  Daisies...

  The smell came suddenly, and as it did, those alien thoughts retreated from her mind.

  She opened her eyes and exhaled sharply. Without even looking, Cassie knew She was there.

  The Little Girl stood near the lighthouse less than fifty yards away. She appeared as she had the previous two times, and as before, a gentle warmth washed over Cassie.

  Cassie sat like this for several minutes, with neither of them saying a word, and then the girl slipped away around the lighthouse corner.

  Cassie looked up at the slowly darkening sky, and it was only then she realized it was getting late. She had no idea how long she had been there, but it must have been a lot longer than she thought. It felt odd that she couldn’t remember most of that time.

  She went to close her notebook when her eyes fell on the page she had been writing on. And she froze. She had been writing the entire time, without having been aware of it, and there were several pages filled with one word repeated over and over.

  It said, “Dead.”

  ****

  “Into that maw of darkness I stare;

  aeon’s ode to eternal despair;

  then whispered it taunts from chasms deep —

  ‘Fear the night, child; for I walk while you sleep.’”

  — “Requiem in Black” by Cassie Stevens

  ****

  Cassie’s nerves were still on edge as she returned home from the lighthouse. The house was dark as she entered, and flipping on the lights, she found a note from her mom taped to the fridge, along with a ten-dollar bill — “They need me to work late tonight to make up for the week I took off. Use the money to buy dinner. Love, Mom.”

  Great. She was alone in this big house. It wasn’t like she could fault her mom — she had taken the week off to be with Cassie at the hospital — but the thought of being alone still left her feeling uneasy.

  She thought about crashing out on the couch in front of the TV till her mom got home, but who knew when that would be. Plus, she would have to explain why, and she wasn’t sure if she even knew the answer to that.

  “Rex,” she called out, looking around for her dog. He could be her bodyguard and chase away all the bad things that came in.

  “Rex,” she called out again, but apparently he was outside. She could always go get him, but he was probably covered in mud from the sprinkler. Anything wet and muddy was like catnip to him. She finally decided to just suck it up and headed upstairs alone to her room.

  As she entered, she noticed it felt cooler than the hallway. She looked across the room to the window, but it was shut, and there weren’t any other openings for a draft to come in.

  She took a step back into the hallway, then stepped again into her room. It was definitely colder in here. She didn’t really give it any more thought at the time, other than thinking it was odd. It would only be much later that she would understand the significance of this and the ominous forewarning it portended.

  She tossed her backpack on the floor, slid out of her school skirt, and pulled on a T-shirt. She climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over her.

  She lay there for a moment, giving her mind time to settle. Maybe all of this could be explained — the Face, the writing, the Stench... Maybe all she needed was a good night’s sleep, and everything would be okay in the morning.

  Maybe...

  But it wouldn’t.

  And that night, the dreams began.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dreams

  “Is all that we see or seem,

  but a dream within a dream?”

  — A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

  ****

  Cassie wandered down the dark forest path. Through a thick canopy of leaves overhead, thin slivers of moonlight filtered down to light her path in its ghostly pall.

  All around her was darkness and mist. Within the darkness, unseen eyes watched, and hungry things prowled. Baleful spirits wailed their hideous cries as they drifted through trees, and Cassie’s skin crawled with supernatural dread.

  It was a forest of the dead, and yet it lived with unnatural life. Its air whispered a haunting chorus that circled and teased —

  Caaassssiiiieee it beckoned in whispered taunts.

  Come to us, Caaassssiiiee...

  Play with us...

  Casssiiiiieeee...

  Stay...

  Be with us Cassiiiiiieee...

  Come...

  Fear gripped her and she hurried on, desperate to escape this haunted forest where dead things hunted and prowled.

  She finally emerged into a desolate clearing where nothing grew. All plant life ceased at the forest’s edge, and as she looked out across that broad windswept plain, she saw the reason.

  In its center, some distance from the boundary of the forest, rose the grim specter of a massive foreboding manor.

  It loomed mightily in the night, with the moon to its back, revealing only the dark dimensions of its immense breadth. And from inside its unhallowed walls, echoed screams of infinite torment carried across the plain.

  As much as she feared the forest from which she had just come, she dreaded that manor even more. Its essence was of such unbounded evil that it held the night in terror.

  It was what the night feared.

  Cassie felt the icy fingers of a paralyzing terror grip her soul.

  She knew this place.

  And it wanted her back.

  Cassie startled awake. She was drenched in a cold sweat, and her pulse pounded in her ears. The nightmare had felt so real and vivid that its dark aura breathed into her mind for several more minutes.

  It was the sting of the cold room on her bare legs that finally drew her attention away from the nightmare. Her blanket was gone. As her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight that sifted through her curtains, she spotted it on the floor across the room. She started to rise to get it, then suddenly froze.

  Something was in the room.

  It wasn’t that she’d seen or heard anything. It was an awareness that came as an
instinct; a prickling of hairs on her arms.

  She gripped her sheet and tried to pull it over her, but it was matted up beneath her. She turned back to the room and slowly swept her eyes across it. There was just enough light for her to see the dark forms of her furniture. There was her dresser, with the mirror above it, her desk, a chair...

  It was in the corner.

  From the corner of her eye, she had caught a subtle movement in the shadows near her closet; but when she turned her head in that direction, nothing was there.

  A loud bark came from outside and nearly startled her from her skin. She clenched her teeth for a moment to settle her nerves.

  It was of course Rex, and this gave her a sense of relief. At least he was also awake.

  Then came another bark, and then another, and that relief she had felt was gone. Something was outside.

  She hopped from bed and sprang across the room to the light switch and flipped it on. Nothing was in her room.

  She pulled on some jeans and went over to the window. She drew the curtains aside and looked down at the grass clearing behind her house. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, but in its cold light she saw Rex in the middle of the yard, tugging at his leash.

  And barking at the dark woods that bordered her yard.

  Cassie climbed down the wooden steps from her back porch and crossed the damp yard to Rex. He was tense like she had never seen him and focused completely on those dark woods. He startled as she reached down to pet him, then returned his attention to the woods.

  Something was out there, and Cassie was beginning to feel it herself. And whatever it was, it was able to scare a large German Shepard.

  “Hey, buddy,” she said, stroking his back. “You see something?” She followed his gaze to the woods where she could see the dark outline of the trees along its border, but the moonlight failed to penetrate beyond that.

  Rex took a tense step back, and all at once, the night grew still. There were no more sounds of insects, or animals, or even the breeze. The night was holding its breath, as something ominous moved through it.

  The fur on Rex’s back bristled, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. He sensed the change too. But then his growl faded, and a terrified whimper escaped him. He took several steps back. Whatever was out there, it had met his challenge, and this was Rex’s whimpering retreat in the presence of a dominant predator.

  Cassie watched his reaction. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get inside.” She reached for his collar...

  Rex suddenly jerked away and bounded off across the yard to the house where he hid beneath the porch.

  And now Cassie was all alone; just her, and whatever was in those woods. She slowly turned back to them and tried to see into the darkness beyond its border. Something was there. She sensed it now even more than before. And it was watching her.

  “What are you looking at?” came Seth’s voice, and Cassie nearly screamed. She saw that he was standing beside her, and next to him were Silvia and Trish. She had been so focused on Rex and the woods that she hadn’t even heard them approach.

  “Shit!” Cassie swore when she regained her breath. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?” he said, feigning innocence.

  “Don’t sneak up on me like that. It’s not cool.”

  “But it’s funny as hell.”

  “So is me macing you.”

  “What were you looking at, Cass?” Silvia asked.

  Cassie nodded to the woods. “There’s something out there.”

  “What is it?” Trish asked.

  “I don’t know. But I think Rex saw something.”

  “Is that why he ran away?” Silvia asked.

  “Yeah.”

  The others turned to stare at the woods.

  “Maybe it was like a rabbit or something,” Silvia offered. “Or a fox.”

  Seth snorted. “You think a rabbit scared the shit out of Cassie’s dog.”

  “Then you then tell me what it was,” Silvia shot back.

  “Something a lot scarier than a rabbit. You know animals can see shit that we can’t.”

  “Like what?” Cassie asked.

  “Ask your dog the next time you see him growling into an empty room.”

  Trish nodded in agreement. “They say animals have a sort of sixth sense.”

  “Which means what exactly?” Cassie asked.

  “It means you’ve got a ghost in your backyard, Cass,” Seth said.

  Trish and Silvia nodded in agreement. Cassie looked back at the woods for a moment, then again at her friends.

  “So, what are you guys doing here?” Cassie asked.

  “Was that you saying how good it is to see us?” said Trish.

  “Sorry. It’s good to see you guys. And what are you doing here?”

  “We came to see you, bae,” Silvia said. “We missed you.”

  “Hug it out, bitch,” Trish said and grabbed Cassie and Silvia in a group hug.

  “We tried to see you at the hospital,” Silvia said when they finally broke off the hug, “but we couldn’t get in.”

  “They said it was family only,” Trish added. “No scary goth kids.”

  “So, how’ve you been?” Silvia asked.

  Cassie shrugged. “Surviving? They said I was dead.”

  “That’s what we heard,” Trish said. “So, what was it like?”

  Cassie thought about it a moment and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember any of it.”

  “No bright light or anything?” Silvia asked.

  Cassie shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Oh, fuck that,” said Seth. “How could you not remember?”

  “’Cause I don’t.”

  “You got to actually see the other side, and you don’t remember.”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, that sucks. Next time you die, be sure to take better notes.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Seth smirked. “Now, if everyone could please gather around...” He held up his fist in a tribute. “I’d like to offer tribute to our friend, Cassie Stevens, who got to taste death, and then cheat it. And even if she can’t remember any of it, which is totally lame...” He shot Cassie a wink to let her know he was just messing with her. “It’s still good to have you back, Stevens.”

  ****

  While Cassie dreamed of the dark Manor in the clearing, across town Father Sean was deep within his own dream...

  A gray sky clung over a dozen mourners gathered around a grave. Father Ian read from his missal, while the mourners listened and wept.

  Sean observed this from beneath the shade of a tree some distance away and only caught pieces of Ian’s sermon.

  “I am the resurrection and the life...” he heard Ian saying...

  A peculiar feeling struck Sean as he watched. It felt oddly familiar, like he had been here before and knew who these people were and who the funeral was for. The answers seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, yet remained frustratingly elusive. All he knew for certain was that he was observing a funeral, and it was being presided over by a priest he also felt he should know.

  “Whoever believes in me shall not die, but shall have eternal life...”

  Several mourners stepped aside, and behind them Sean saw Amy’s parents. Now he understood why it felt so familiar — he was at Amy’s funeral.

  At this point, Sean became strangely cognizant that he was in a dream. It was the recurrence of a dream he previously had of Amy’s death and funeral, only in that dream Sean had presided over her funeral.

  Of course Amy wasn’t dead in real life, and Sean’s dreaming self knew this; it was only in this dream and the previous one that she was dead. But it worried him that his dreams kept returning to this theme.

  “And I will raise him on the last day...”

  He also observed that he was a priest again in this dream and the recurrence of this theme also troubled him. Of course he wasn’t a priest in real life, and his dreaming se
lf knew this. He was a college student, attending Boston College on a baseball scholarship with Amy. They had plans to marry. And he obviously had no intention of telling her about these dreams, as they would only worry her.

  He turned his attention back to the funeral and found that it was over and everyone was gone.

  Father Ian. That was the priest’s name. But how did he know this?

  An unease came over Sean. There were large gaps in his memory, and so many pieces of this puzzle were missing; pieces he knew were significant.

  How did he know that priest? He was certain they had met somewhere, but he had no idea how or where.

  He began to suspect that these memories of his sleeping self might not be the memories of his waking self. But where had they come from? And what would he awake to find?

  At that moment, the answer came to him, and it was like a door to his waking memories had suddenly opened. He was, in fact, a priest... and Amy was, in fact, dead.

  A sudden grief hit his stomach the way it had at Amy’s real death. He stared numbly at her casket — at where his hope for happiness lay dead...

  Then he felt its approach.

  It came in the bitter wind now blowing through the trees and in the dark storm clouds forming overhead. Something monstrous and obscene was coming, an affront to all that was pure and good...

  Amy was coming... but it wasn’t his Amy.

  Sean struggled to back away but was now caught in the full force of the dream and the ominous game master that controlled it. Whatever had placed him here, it wouldn’t allow him to leave until he saw what she had become. It needed to dash against jagged rocks of despair every last ounce of hope and faith he had clung to.

  She was closer now...

  As the wind moaned its ghostly hymn through the trees, Sean struggled not to listen, because he knew if he listened, he would hear her voice. And yet the more he struggled to block out sounds, the louder they came.

  And closer...

  Sean knew he would soon hear it... and within seconds he did.