by Paul Berry
‘Which way?’ I ask Helsing. I look up the winding staircase, expecting Adam to appear at the top. ‘Yes, I’m well aware this is another trap, but your opinion would be nice.’ He flaps from my shoulder, the updraught fluttering my eyelashes, and glides towards the closed doors of the dining room, perching on the hilt of a sword held by the crossed arms of a suit of armour. He starts preening his wing feathers.
‘Great time to take a bath.’ I take a deep breath and walk towards him. ‘Okay, what’s behind door number two?’ Before I even touch the handle it swings open. The candlelight is dazzling compared to the hallway. An unseen violin is playing, the melodic chords thrumming my solar plexus. Seated at the head of a long dining table is my mother, wearing a long yellow dress and sipping a glass of red wine. On each side of her are Rachel and my dad, both staring ahead blankly.
My mother puts down the glass and licks her lips.
Chapter 42
‘Welcome home, my son,’ my mother says.
‘This isn’t my home and I’m not your son.’ She stands up and pushes back her chair, gesturing towards an empty seat. ‘No thanks. I prefer to stand.’
‘This isn’t a request.’ The violin music stops. ‘Let’s talk like civilised people.’
I sit down and remember the last piece of advice my dad gave me.
Play your cards close to your chest.
Before the doors swing shut, Helsing flies in and lands on the gilded corner of a giant baroque mirror that stretches from floor to ceiling on the opposite wall, the frame made of plaited gold tentacles.
‘How are you enjoying the new improved version of Preston? The Datum is indeed wondrous.’
‘That’s not how I’d describe it. And it’s still your prison.’
‘That it is, although after an eternity here I have a degree of control. In your dull little Preston, my house was half in and half out of the Datum until you rudely sent it back. You think it’s bad now? I can make it much, much worse.’
‘Let them go.’
‘So you’ve decided to dispense with chit chat? Very well. I will release your father. You merely have to open a door back.’
‘And Rachel … and my mother?’
‘Rachel, unfortunately, will have to stay here. My sister is growing rather irksome, don’t you think? And your mother … I’m starting to rather like living inside her. It’s more convenient than my true form.’
She points at the mirror. I gasp and see the writhing mass of the creature from the maze pressed behind the glass.
‘You’re going to destroy the world.’
‘You say it as though it’s a purely selfish act. Your world is already dead. I intend to bring it back to life. Besides, is it worth saving? It’s not meant for people like us.’
I laugh. ‘You’re not a person.’
‘That’s right. I’m a god. And the time for negotiation is over.’
‘You really think I’ll let you escape?’
‘What was the advice your father gave you? Play your cards close to your chest?’ Hastur has been plucking out my thoughts, just like Adam. ‘I have also raised the stakes of the game. I decided to improve your father. He wouldn’t stop screaming your name when he arrived.’ My dad turns to me and smiles.
His eyes are jet black and the skin on his forehead ripples and puckers into tentacles.
‘He looks much more becoming now, don’t you think?’ She leans over and they kiss, the tentacles caressing her face. I slam my fist on the table. Rachel blinks as though waking from a dream.
‘Change him back,’ I say, trying to keep my voice calm.
‘Of course. But you need to …’ She mimes turning a handle and opening a door.
‘I can’t even if I wanted to. The crystal has been destroyed.’
‘Strange thing about the crystal. It was completely useless without you – nothing more than a sparkling gimcrack. As my sister correctly deduced, you had the real power all along.’ I shake my head. ‘You can’t hide your cards from me, Sam. What your mother knows, so do I. Interestingly, before you revealed your secret at the house, she cut into your friend Tim. He didn’t tell her about you, though. Such a brave boy.’
I clench my fists in fury as I imagine Tim screaming in an underground cell in Jupiter Hill. My mother smirks and I know she’s trying to break me.
‘That was just teleporting to places in the real world,’ I say. ‘I can’t travel between worlds without the crystal.’
‘Just teleporting? You sell yourself short. You touched the Datum at the train station, and even in your dreams you’ve travelled here, although very briefly. Those symbols have always been jostling around your head, desperate for you to align them and bring them to life.’ I hate that she’s right. Ever since I used the crystal to open the portal to the Datum, I have been craving to do it again.
‘Sam, no,’ Rachel whispers. My mother glares at her. Rachel screams as the carved claws on the ends of the chair arms twist around and sink into the backs of her wrists. My dad laughs, throwing his head back and flashing jagged fangs.
‘Are you going to be a more polite guest?’ my mother asks her. Rachel nods, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘This battle you can’t win, Sam. Sooner or later someone will open another door to the Datum. Maybe one of your friends from Jupiter Hill.’
‘It’s ashes. You saw to that.’
‘There’s always another Jupiter Hill. And there will always be another you. A better version. We might be waiting here for centuries, but I’ve learnt to be very patient. I can torture you in ways you can’t even imagine, and your mother’s mind is full to the brim with ingenious conceits.’
The creature in the mirror slides out, the mercurial glass sliding like water over its distended body. It lumbers across the floor and towers behind her.
‘It’s time I was reunited with my monster.’ The thing wavers like a mirage, growing less substantial until it becomes a hovering black cloud. It flows into her, jets of mist twisting into her eyes and mouth until it is completely absorbed.
She takes a long breath and stretches her arms. ‘That’s better. Don’t worry, Sam, I haven’t forgotten you.’ Two tentacles sprout from her cheeks and break off, slithering down her body and across the floor towards me. I stand up, staggering away in revulsion. The tentacles start expanding like flaccid leeches becoming engorged. They stretch into dark figures, their features growing more delineated.
It’s the vampire versions of Adam and me.
‘Thought you’d seen the last of me, didn’t you?’ Adam asks. The shadow me looks down despondently. I can still see that fleck of soul-light skittering around inside his body. The unseen violin begins playing again and Adam grabs Sam’s hands. They start dancing, Sam’s face creasing in anger.
‘I’m sure the other Sam is desperate to go back inside you,’ my mother says. ‘Once he’s all cosy again in your body, you’ll beg to release me.’ Adam releases his hold and Sam walks towards me, his arms outstretched. I am about to run but see an imperceptible shake of his head. He puts his arms around my shoulders and Adam starts clapping excitedly.
‘Finally we’ll be together again as a family,’ she says, holding my dad’s hand. Sam’s lips brush against my ear.
‘Go back to the beginning,’ he whispers, and I stare past him into the mirror.
Back to the beginning, back to the beginning.
A snake swallowing its tail.
The Remembrance Stone from the college.
‘Take him,’ my mother orders. ‘Take him now!’
‘Hurry,’ he whispers. ‘I can’t resist Hastur any longer.’ His fingertips touch the back of my neck and I feel them melding into my flesh. I empty my mind and concentrate on the Remembrance Stone. The surface of the mirror flutters, concentric ripples stippling the mercury. The stone appears and Sam steps out of my way as I jump towards it
, bracing my face with my forearm.
The air turns cold and my feet crunch on frozen snow. In front of me, the obelisk looms in the moonlight. I turn around and see the dining room behind a mirror-sized portal. My mother is running towards it, screeching in fury. Before she reaches it, the portal squeezes shut and all I can see is the silhouette of the college.
For a moment I think I’m back in Preston, far away from the horrors of the Datum; then I look up at the sky. It boils with red clouds as though lit by a volcano. The air around me starts to prickle with static, as though something is about to materialise, and I know my mother is coming.
I take off the backpack and delve inside, pulling out the can of paint. I rattle it and spray the pentagram on the stone, the lines jerky as my hand shakes. Within its pentagon centre I spray the eye. The symbol glows faintly like the light from the stars on my bedroom ceiling.
Nothing happens.
Wind blows shards of ice against my face and I know it’s only moments before my mother arrives. I place my hand on the stone, the paint sticky against my palm. I push against it, remembering the fingers that tried to grasp me when I touched the black page of the book in Jupiter Hill.
A hand squeezes the sides of my hand and pulls me forward.
I am standing in nothingness, the surface below my feet a crystalline pane of blackness stretching eternally in every direction. Above me is darkness, liquid night so absolute it starts to saturate my skin, pervading every atom of my being.
From the fathomless depths below the surface is a bestial roar as though something unimaginably vast has sensed my presence. It tears up through the blackness towards me on leathery wings, gnashing its teeth in hunger.
A rectangular line of light twinkles in front of me. It swings open and light blazes out. I cover my eyes and jump through, the door slamming shut behind me.
I’m in the castle room from the final showdown in Dracula. Peter Cushing is standing triumphant over the screeching skeletal remains of Dracula, holding two silver candlesticks together to form a cross. He looks at me and smiles. Dracula’s skeleton and cape crumble into dust and are blown away by a gust of wind, leaving behind his gold signet ring.
‘Glad you could join me,’ Peter says, dropping the candlesticks and holding out a hand.
I hesitantly shake it. ‘What is this place?’
‘The Vacuity, a ravenous region between the spheres.’ I look around open-mouthed. ‘Maybe you should sit down.’ There is a scratching at the door and it briefly swings open. Helsing flies in and perches on a bookshelf.
‘My friend has been keeping an eye on you.’
‘He belongs to you?’
‘Sort of. He is me. Well, more like a small fraction of me, small enough to move through the cracks.’ He frowns and fusses with his cravat. ‘I’ve been trapped in this void, banished here by my ungrateful children.’
I sit in a leather-backed chair. Helsing glides over and sits on one of the arms, blinking his golden eyes at me.
‘You’re their father?’
Peter takes off his fur-collared coat, flings it onto the back of the chair opposite me and sits down, flicking a stray hair back into place ‘I’m afraid so. We had a squabble. Moves and countermoves ensued. With their powers combined, they imprisoned me here. But not before my final retort to their disobedience. Dagona was sent into the depths of the ocean while Hastur was to spend eternity in the Datum. Your mother inadvertently freed them both, albeit with a few complications.’
‘Are you the real Peter Cushing?’ A peculiar starstruck thrill passes through me. He’s even wearing the same velvet waistcoat Van Helsing wore in Dracula.
He laughs. ‘I chose this form because he’s your champion. The sight of my true form is slightly unnerving.’
‘I think I can handle it.’
For a second Peter flickers from view, replaced by two glowing eyes surrounded by a gibbering maelstrom of jagged mouths that howl in unison, and I gasp in shock.
‘Rather intimidating, aren’t I?’
‘Yes,’ I stutter, willing myself to breathe slowly.
‘My children call me Azathoth, although names are such a bore. They lessen you only to bolster another person’s vanity, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘How was I able to come here?’ I ask.
‘This place cannot totally contain my power, so I was able to make a little adjunct. That was also how I sent the crystal through, knowing you’d eventually discover it.’
‘And my abilities?’
‘They were also from me. That symbol I plagued you with was the one that broke the seal of my prison.’
‘Is that all I am, some kind of key?’
‘No, Sam. You’re so much more than that.’
A paroxysm of anger explodes inside me. ‘You destroyed my family! Everything that’s happened was because of you!’ Helsing chirps mournfully and ruffles his feathers.
‘For that, accept my sincerest apologies. Unfortunately, escape had to be an insidious plan. The edge of Hastur’s sphere is contiguous with this region of the Vacuity, which meant I had to bring you there. Allowing Hastur to escape has ultimately secured my own freedom, a stratagem of such magnificent intricacy and foresight I’m almost disappointed it has been ended by its fruition.’
The fury begins to abate when I think about my dad still trapped in the Datum. If I refuse to play his game, we’ll both be trapped forever in these mystical prisons.
And Peter Cushing can’t abide rudeness.
‘Where do these symbols come from?’ I ask. ‘Why are they so important?’
‘In the beginning there was a cold, hungry void of perfect nothingness. Then, snap! – the symbols brought everything into existence: time, gods, evil. Even me. The ultimate chicken and egg is what or who created the symbols. Best not to think about that, or you’d be foaming at the mouth.’
‘So now you’re free. What’s going to happen?’
‘You might want to stand up. Things are about to become turbulent.’
The room starts to shake, and Helsing squawks and flies off the chair onto my shoulder. The walls break apart, pattering down in waterfalls of rubble and sending up clouds of dust which swirl in a vortex around us. I cough and shield my eyes, Helsing pressing his body nervously against my cheek. The dust dissipates, and I look down and see that the stone floor has changed to marble.
We are standing next to the dining table in Adam’s house.
My mother looks at us wide-eyed, the glass she is holding smashing to the floor.
Chapter 43
‘I do love a family reunion. How are you, my son?’ Azathoth asks, smiling at my mother.
She shakily stands up, her eyes flashing at me. ‘You freed him? He’ll destroy us all!’
He takes a step towards her and she backs away. ‘That’s not wholly true.’
‘We should have buried you somewhere deeper, old man.’
‘Did you and your sister think you could incarcerate me forever? I thought I raised you better than that.’ My mother grabs a knife from the table and holds it against my dad’s neck. ‘Open a portal, Sam. Do it now or he’ll be dead before his head hits the table.’
Azathoth starts laughing. ‘Go ahead. Kill him.’
‘No,’ I shout.
My mother pulls his head back.
‘Please don’t!’ I beg. ‘I’ll do it!’
‘Relax, Sam,’ Azathoth says. ‘The King in Yellow’s machinations are always poorly thought out.’ A trickle of blood runs down my dad’s neck. Azathoth clicks his fingers and the knife flies out of her hand and clatters across the floor.
She starts to transform, her body darkening into shadow and expanding, tentacles sprouting and writhing from her flesh until she becomes the hulking monster. She wraps a tentacle around Azathoth’s legs and pulls him to the floor. Rachel remains sitting i
n her chair, blankly staring ahead in a trance.
My dad leaps across the table and grabs me in an arm lock, claws flashing towards my eyes. Helsing angrily takes flight around his head, trying to peck at his face, and he smacks him across the room.
More tentacles wrap around Azathoth and raise him into the air. A mouth opens up in Hastur’s distended body.
‘Once again, you have been overcome.’ A voice rasps from a gaping maw, still sounding like my mother’s. ‘This time there’ll be no escape.’ More tentacles shoot from its mouth like vines and engulf his body before swallowing him down. I start choking as my dad’s grip around my neck tightens.
‘You have lost, Sam!’ it bellows. ‘Now everything belongs to me. Open the portal.’ The configuration of symbols appears unbidden in my mind and the mirror shatters. Behind the gold frame I can see the park. This time it’s the park in Preston, in the real world.
Hastur shimmers and returns back to the form of my mother. Helsing limps across the floor towards me, cheeping. My mother steps over to him and raises her foot over his head. She brings it down.
She gasps in surprise as her foot stops inches above his head. Helsing flaps his wings and takes flight as her foot cracks against the floor.
He hovers in the air and his feathers blacken and grow longer while his body stretches and transforms into the stern form of Peter Cushing.
He folds his arms across his chest. ‘You overestimate your power, my son.’ My mother runs towards the mirror frame but is suddenly frozen mid-stride. She is turned around on her heels, her arms slapping against her sides. The scene of the park vanishes, leaving only the wooden back of the mirror.
‘The games are over,’ Azathoth says. He makes a hand motion towards my dad, who releases me.
‘First things first.’ He clicks his fingers and my dad collapses to his knees. A shadow worm wriggles from his mouth down his chest and slithers across the floor, merging into the stiletto of my mother’s shoe. He starts coughing and looks around, bewildered. I bend down, pulling him towards me.
