Sam Black Shadow

by Paul Berry

  ‘Sam? What are you doing here?’

  ‘This is just a nightmare. Close your eyes. It’ll be over soon.’ He presses his head against my chest and sobs.

  ‘This time we’ll send you back forever,’ my mother spits through gritted teeth. ‘Sister!’ she shouts to Rachel. ‘Help me!’

  Azathoth shakes his head. ‘No, my son. Now your time has come.’ He grabs the back of her neck and a thick gout of black smoke shoots from my mother’s mouth into his.

  Multiple screams echo around the dining room, all emanating from my mother’s body. They rise to a shrieking crescendo, then abruptly stop.

  He drops her to the floor, takes a handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and delicately dabs his lips. My mother lies there motionless. Rachel stares at Azathoth.

  ‘Father.’ She stands up, trembling. ‘Do you forgive me?’ Azathoth smiles at her and offers his hand.

  ‘Anything for my daughter. But there has to be consequences for your actions.’

  She nods. ‘I’m tired. I just want to go back to my dreamless sleep.’

  ‘If that’s what you want.’ He holds her hand and kisses her forehead. Her silver hair darkens to black, the octopus eyes transforming into human ones.

  Rachel turns to look at me. ‘She’s gone, Sam.’

  Azathoth shakes my dad’s hand. ‘You have raised a fine young man.’

  ‘I’ve always thought so,’ he says listlessly. There is something missing in his voice, as though some vital scintilla has stopped burning. ‘Can I go home now?’

  ‘We’re all going home,’ I say, looking at Azathoth defiantly.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sam, I’m not going to stop you. I am now in your debt for freeing me. What would you like me to do? Do you want me to destroy the world? Do you want it chewed up in a mouthful of fangs and swallowed? The angels will fall. Even God will burn.’

  I pause, the fraction of a second stretching out into eternity as ‘Yes’ dangles in front of me and I hear billions screaming in agony. I briefly see again behind his human face something impossibly ancient, beyond good or evil.

  ‘No.’ A chill passes across my shoulder blades. ‘But is that your next step, to destroy the world?’

  ‘I have my tyranny over the other gods to reclaim. The earth is the least of my concerns. More importantly, what do you want?’

  ‘We just want to return to our lives.’

  ‘So be it.’

  ‘What will happen to your children?’

  ‘My daughter will remain dreaming beneath the ocean. My son, on the other hand …’ He pats his stomach.

  ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘He’ll wish he was. He’s inside me, tormented forever in his own private hell, an eternal loop of victory being snatched away from him. This prison he will never escape from.’ I almost ask him where Helsing has gone before I realise that they are the same being.

  ‘Do you want to keep your powers?’ he asks. ‘The Syncret won’t let you go that easily.’

  ‘I don’t want to be able to come back here again or any place like this.’ Azathoth sighs and gently taps my head, and I feel something snatched away from my mind.

  ‘The ability to travel within your own world I will not take away. You will need it when you return.’

  ‘What about the other me? The vampire one?’

  ‘He’s part of Hastur again.’

  ‘But there’s still part of me inside him.’

  ‘Very well.’ There is a sound like rustling leaves and the other me is sitting at the end of the table. He looks at me and smiles sheepishly.

  ‘Can he live in this house?’ I ask. ‘And be happy here?’

  ‘He doesn’t have to be here alone, either.’ The vampire Adam appears next to him. ‘You can stay,’ Azathoth admonishes, ‘only if you promise to treat him like a king.’

  Adam nods. ‘I promise.’ Sam takes his hand and they walk out of the dining room up the stairs.

  There is a moan from my mother and she staggers to her feet. ‘Is he gone?’

  ‘For now,’ Azathoth says, helping to steady her, ‘although there’s always the possibility of a sequel.’

  ‘Do you remember what happened?’ I ask.

  She nods. ‘It was like I was watching everything behind a sheet of glass, powerless to stop it.’

  My dad looks at her in confusion. ‘Is she real?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ I say.

  ‘Everything I did was to protect you,’ she says.

  ‘The students you sent to New Innsmouth would probably disagree. And Tim after you tortured him.’ I can see a glint of calculation in her eyes as she tries to invent a lie.

  ‘Don’t deny it,’ I say. ‘I know what you did. You’ll always be a monster.’

  ‘This is not the time for recriminations,’ Azathoth says. ‘I think your friends have been through enough, don’t you think?’ He pats me on the back. ‘But if you ever change your mind about the earth, I’ll be waiting.’

  ‘How do we return now my power is gone?’

  ‘I’ve always liked mirrors.’ Inside the baroque mirror frame is a beach, the sunlight sparkling on the lapping waves.

  Rachel and my dad take my hands and we walk towards it.

  ‘Sam, wait,’ my mother says. I turn my head as she follows us.

  ‘Not so fast,’ Azathoth says. ‘One of you has to stay behind. The Datum is still hungry, and recompense is due. Some actions are without impunity.’ He points at my mother and grins.

  ‘No. It wasn’t me,’ she says. ‘It was Hastur.’

  ‘That’s not entirely true,’ Azathoth says. ‘There was always part of you that enjoyed what he did. And besides, I know what you’re capable of. I’d rather you didn’t make things difficult for me along with the meddling Syncret.’

  There is a roaring sound outside.

  Staring in through the window is the topiary dragon. But now giant sized, its vine tongue lolling from its cavernous mouth. The vine shoots forward and shatters a pane, snaking across the marble. Before my mother can react, it has wrapped around her leg and pulled her to the floor.

  She raises her arm towards me. ‘Sam, help me!’

  I shake my head.

  Her brow furrows in hatred. ‘You’ll regret this.’ The vine yanks her off the floor and she smashes through the window, disappearing into the dragon’s gaping mouth.

  It snaps shut and she screams.

  Leafy branches sprout from its sides and form a pair of vast wings that start flapping, the updraught whistling through the broken panes. It takes off, hovering above the lawn for a few moments before ascending into the sky. Underneath the whooshing of its wings I can hear my mother’s desperate shrieks growing more distant as the dragon vanishes into the darkness.

  ‘That was rather theatrical,’ Azathoth says. ‘But who doesn’t enjoy a spectacular finale, eh?’

  ‘Will she ever escape?’ I ask.

  Azathoth purses his lips. ‘Fury like that is difficult to contain, even by the Datum. If or when she does, I’m sure you’ll be prepared.’

  The three of us stand in front of the mirror. The frame starts to shudder and the gilding begins to crack.

  I suddenly have a terrible realisation.

  ‘Your prison. You could have escaped at any time.’

  Azathoth smiles and nods. ‘The game is the reason for existence, from the protean amoeba to humans, even gods. Better hurry. Portals tend to be fragile things,’ he says.

  ‘On three,’ I say. ‘One, two …’

  We jump.

  Chapter 44

  We are standing on the beach in New Innsmouth, the sea wall stretching into the distance. The remaining interstice of portal disappears, and the last thing I see of the Datum is Azathoth saluting me.

  ‘Are we really back?’ Rachel asks
. ‘Or is this just another of the Datum’s tricks?’ Seagulls pinwheel high above us while scraps of white cloud trail across a bright blue sky.

  ‘We’re definitely back.’ I say. ‘And it feels different. Nothing is watching us anymore.’

  ‘Where are we?’ my dad asks, looking around.

  I squeeze his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We’re back home. Everything that happened before was just some silly dream.’ In the daylight he looks older, fresh wrinkles creasing the corners of his eyes and forehead.

  The breeze grows stronger and Rachel shivers. ‘We should get inside somewhere. I’m not sure how the town will react now they’re free of Dagona and see me.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s many left,’ I say. ‘My mother was hungry.’ Just before we walk up the stone steps to the promenade, I see something glinting in the sand, and I stoop down and dig it out. It’s the hip flask, the bottle whole again. There is writing etched on the glass.

  ‘I’m keeping my eye on you – A.’ Under the inscription is a small pentagram with an eye in the centre.

  I stuff it into my pocket before my dad can see it. ‘Let’s go to the Dorchester. We can get some rest and figure out what to do next.’

  We cross the promenade and walk to the hotel, the sign squeaking in the breeze. I push open the front door and the reception is silent.

  ‘Hello,’ I say nervously.

  There is a creaking from the living room and I see the trapdoor raise a few inches.

  ‘Sam?’ a muffled voice asks. The trapdoor crashes open. Bruce’s grinning head pops up. He scrambles out and rushes towards me, but then stops when he sees Rachel.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘Dagona’s gone, back to where she came from.’

  ‘And Hastur?’

  ‘He won’t be bothering us anymore.’

  ‘So it’s over?’

  I hesitate. ‘Yes. For the moment.’

  ‘That’s good enough for me.’ He embraces me and then kisses me hard on the lips. I forget my dad is watching us.

  ‘Umm … this is Bruce,’ I say, feeling embarrassment flush across my cheeks, struggling to think of something. ‘He’s from Preston.’

  ‘He’s your boyfriend,’ my dad says nonchalantly. Rachel laughs.

  ‘I suppose, yes,’ I say, looking at Bruce, my forehead now glowing. ‘Are we?’

  ‘What do you think?’ he says, kissing my cheek.

  ‘I kind of guessed that you didn’t like girls a long time ago,’ my dad says.

  ‘So why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘You always changed the conversation when I brought it up. I also found your copy of Maurice hidden inside a video box.’ I cringe and cover my eyes.

  ‘That’s the thing you’re most concerned about?’ Bruce laughs. There is a coughing sound from the trapdoor. ‘Guess who’s still alive,’ he says.

  Ruby climbs out of the floor, brushing dust off her pinafore.

  ‘I thought they’d killed you,’ I say.

  ‘I managed to escape.’ She points to a red graze on her temple. ‘That bullet was pretty damn close, though.’

  ‘Dagona is gone. The curse has been lifted. You can finally leave New Innsmouth.’

  Ruby looks out of the window and smiles. ‘It feels like someone has opened the door in a room that has been shut for years. I can finally breathe again.’ My dad yawns loudly. ‘And who is this handsome gentleman?’

  ‘My dad,’ I say proudly.

  ‘You have the same cheekbones.’ She winks at him and he smiles wearily. ‘I’ll make up some beds. We could all do with some sleep.’

  ‘Not me. I’m wide awake,’ Rachel says, her eyelids drooping.

  Bruce and I take the attic bedroom. He closes the door and looks down nervously. I sit on the bed and pat the mattress. ‘It doesn’t seem that long since I was the nervous one.’

  He sits next to me and puts his arm round my waist. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ His eyes are shiny with tears.

  ‘You didn’t think a few stupid gods could get rid of me so easily?’ We lie back on the bed and our lips and bodies press hard against each other.

  For the first time my sleep is dreamless and peaceful.

  We stay at the Dorchester for a couple of weeks, arguing with Ruby that she doesn’t have to cook and clean around us.

  ‘But that’s all I know,’ she says, stacking up dirty plates in the sink as Bruce and I sit at the kitchen table sipping mugs of tea.

  ‘You’re free now,’ I say.’ You can do anything you want.’

  ‘All I want is for you boys to be safe.’

  Bruce twists his mug round and looks at me anxiously. ‘I have to go back to Preston. My family will be worried sick. But I’m not going unless you come with me.’

  ‘Of course I’m coming. You’ll need someone there who’s strong,’ I say, flexing a puny bicep.

  He takes my hand and kisses it. ‘You are much stronger than the Hulk.’

  We find the taxi that brought Rachel and me to the Dorchester abandoned near the museum.

  ‘I guess the driver won’t be needing it anymore,’ Bruce says, the smell of decay from the museum hanging around it like a cloak of death.

  ‘People will start returning here eventually now the doors to the outside world have been opened and wrenched off their hinges.’

  ‘If we’re questioned, what are we going to say?’

  ‘A mass suicide by a doomsday cult. We were the only survivors. It has elements of truth. That or alien abductions. Although I think Rachel would prefer the alien abduction version.’

  The church of Dagona has disappeared. All that remains is an oval of freshly turned soil as though it sank back into the stygian depths it grew from.

  Bruce drives us to the Dorchester and parks on the pavement outside. Rachel and my dad are sitting on deckchairs in the front garden, the horrors they endured still refusing to relinquish their grip.

  My dad waves at us as we get out of the taxi. ‘I caught another one today.’

  ‘He’s becoming quite the angler,’ Ruby says, laying a blanket over his lap, and he closes his eyes. ‘Though I am getting tired of eating fish.’ Arthur, the sausage dog, emerges from his favourite spot under my dad’s deckchair, stretches, then jumps onto his lap and curls into a furry question mark.

  Rachel removes her sunglasses. ‘I could get used to this.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come back with us?’ I ask.

  ‘Not for the moment. We still have to make sure she doesn’t wake up again, despite what Azathoth said. Besides, me and Ruby have to take care of your dad for a while, until he’s better.’

  Every morning he wakes up screaming, his mind replaying what happened to him in the Datum. My memories of it are starting to fade, although I can still clearly see my mother’s face twisted with spite before she was pulled into the dragon.

  ‘Eventually it will all seem like the memory of a bad dream,’ Rachel says. ‘When he’s ready, we’ll take him home.’

  We embrace before we get into the taxi, but I leave my dad dozing blissfully on the deckchair.

  ‘If he asks,’ I say, ‘tell him we’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘Will you?’ Rachel asks. I am about to answer when Ruby gives me a paper bag.

  ‘Sandwiches for the trip.’ She leans towards my ear. ‘Remember, revenge will only consume you.’

  ‘Take care of them,’ I say. As Bruce drives away, I look back.

  Ruby stares at me and shakes her head.

  Chapter 45

  By the time we arrive in Preston, the taxi fare shows £500.

  ‘I’ll waive the fare for a kiss,’ Bruce says as we park next to my house. I unfasten my seatbelt, the glow from the street lamps casting half his face orange. ‘Are you sure you want to stay here? You can come with me to
see my parents.’

  ‘There’ll be too many questions. The police might also still be looking for me.’ I am still connected to Terry’s death, although if the police and the Syncret are still working together they might also blame me for the others.

  ‘As soon as I’ve made my parents believe my story, I’ll come back here for you.’ He has concocted a yarn about getting amnesia after a bump on the head. ‘If they don’t believe that, I’ll just blame it on drugs.’ I get out and close the door, walk round to the driver’s side, lean through the window and kiss him, then stand on the pavement and watch the tail lights of the taxi disappear into the night.

  I walk up my driveway and can’t help smiling when I see my house again. I lift up the weathered stone rabbit in the front garden and take the spare key. As I turn it in the lock, I glimpse a shadow flitting past the end of the driveway.

  The door creaks open, the air in the hallway stale. I navigate through the lounge, the moonlight streaming through the window and making everything monochrome. After gulping down a glass of water I pad upstairs to my bedroom. Everything seems smaller than I remember. I rip down the poster of the Nautilus and stuff it into the bin.

  Downstairs I hear the tinkle of breaking glass.

  I lie on my bed and stare up at Freddy Krueger’s snarling face, then at the faint glow from the constellations on the ceiling, feeling like I have arrived back to a house that is no longer my home. The staircase creaks as footsteps creep up it. I close my eyes.

  The footsteps enter my room.

  ‘I knew you’d return eventually,’ a voice says. A beam of light flashes across my eyelids. I slowly open them. Standing above me is Dr Stone, a curling ‘C’ of black stitches on his neck where I tore into it. In his right hand he is holding a gun. The left is bandaged, a thumb and three fingers poking out from bloodstained gauze. ‘Get up. Slowly.’ Smith steps into the room, his hand also bandaged but relatively unharmed.

  ‘Where is she?’ Dr Stone snarls.

  ‘She who?’ He slaps my cheek, the blow making brighter stars speckle behind my eyes and dance around the ones on the ceiling.

  ‘Where is she?’