Proxy (The Dreams of Reality Book 1)

by Gareth Otton

  “Hello,” Tad said, thinking to reason with it. “Do you understand me?”

  He took a step forward only to be stopped by Charles’ hand. “Are you mad? Let it come to you.”

  Tad saw no reason why he should and knew it was only Charles’ fear that caused him to speak. He took another step.

  “Can you understand me?” he repeated.

  The malformed, white head tilted as though considering him.

  “Proooxxxyyy.”

  This was louder and more like a wail than a hiss. No sooner had the word finished when suddenly it came for him. The explosion of speed was staggering and by the time Tad recognised that it moved it was almost upon him.

  It cut a shadowy path across the room, claw like hands outstretched and a trail of smoky shadows left in its wake. It passed through desks, computers and other office staples without hesitating. Every time it moved through electronics the device would overload and spit sparks.

  Tad didn’t have time to dive aside, it was moving far too fast. He lifted his hand on instinct and willed it to stop.

  A shield sprang into existence in front of him, invisible but solid. The ghost struck it as though it were a brick wall. The impact of the ghost against the shield was enough to knock Tad back into Tony.

  The ghost ricocheted from the shield towards Charles who shrieked in a tone not meant for a man his size. The ghost didn’t waste a second and took advantage of this new target. The moment its skeletal fingers sank into Charles’ soft flesh, Charles screamed.

  Tad righted his balance and stared in horror as Charles’ form broke apart. Much like when he merged with Tad, the edges of his figure blurred and he was fading.

  It was feeding off Charles. Mad ghosts had always been a danger to other ghosts in the same way one man was dangerous to another. It could fight and damage, but Tad had never seen this before.

  He was so shocked that a full second passed before he did anything about it. He was ashamed that it was Miriam who had to break him from his stupor. She yelled at the ghost, catching its attention which caused Charles to flicker as the feeding ceased. It was only a moment before the ghost ignored her and turned back to its lunch, but it was long enough.

  Snapped from his shock, Tad grabbed the ghost from behind, and the moment he made contact it was over.

  In an instant he forced sanity on the tortured soul. He also pushed the alien energy that was Charles away from the creature and back into his old friend. The creature shrieked once as its shadow twisted and solidified, taking the shape of an old lady with steel grey hair.

  She was dressed in a long, white night gown and was the closest thing to a stereotypical ghost as anything Tad had seen.

  “This place is mine,” she hissed in a voice that was too similar to her mad state for comfort. Tad knew from that single sentence that she had no intention of moving on. He was about to destroy her when he sensed a new option.

  As he mentally reached for her core, he caught attention of a thread stretching off to nowhere. It was connection to some place beyond Tad’s understanding, a pathway that was invisible but immovable at the same time.

  With the same instinctive knowledge he had in his dreams, he knew what this was. It was the force that pulled a soul into the next life.

  Rather than adding his own energy to that of the ghost’s core, overloading it and destroying the ghost, he instead added his energy to that unbreakable thread. It was still not visible, but he felt it intensify and grow as he pushed his energy into it.

  As if from some great distance he heard the ghost’s terrified wail, and he felt the fingers that clawed at him, but it was already too late. With his power added to that of the one already tugging at her, the pull from the next life became too strong to ignore.

  He felt an icy cold, a great unease that every soul in the room could feel as somewhere a door opened to accept this soul. Once the door closed Tad shivered and took a step back. He knew deep down where that soul had moved on to and hoped never to have to go to that place. When he died, he wanted the warmth of the other destination.

  No longer looking inward he turned his attention to Charles. His old friend was leaning against a wall, breathing hard, though it was a redundant action, and muttering to himself.

  “Charles,” Tad said as he took a step closer. His ghost ignored him, still talking to himself and closing his eyes against the rest of the world. His arms wrapped around himself and he rocked back and forth.

  “Charles,” Tad said a second time. Still no response.

  On the third time Tad accompanied his words with a gentle touch upon his ghost’s shoulder. He sensed the onset of chaos that he often found within the mad ghosts. Icy dread fell over him. In his panic he slammed lucidity on Charles with much more force than he ever had before and it hit his ghost like a blow.

  Charles’ whole body rocked back, pressing against the wall and causing him to grunt in shock. Even when his eyes cleared, the aura of fear remained.

  “Thank you,” Charles whispered.

  Tad didn’t need to hear more. He knew what his ghost was thanking him for. If he hadn’t forced lucidity on him, Charles might not have come back from whichever place he had gone to. The madness of his existence had come while he was too weak to protect himself.

  Tad felt tears form when he realised just how close he had come to losing his friend. Charles saw those tears and nodded once to say he understood. Without another word he stepped backward through the wall and out of sight.

  “Where’s he going?” Tony asked in surprise, trying to follow him.

  Tad didn’t even think, he simply acted. He extended his will into the wall, solidifying it with a barrier like the one he used against the mad ghost. Tony bounced from the wall so hard he fell over.

  “What the hell?” he asked from the floor.

  “Tad?” Miriam asked. When he turned he found stunned expressions on both of their faces. “What’s going on?”

  She was asking about his powers, about what happened to Charles and where Charles had gone. All Tad could think of was the bigger picture.

  What was going on with the world?

  “Charles needs time alone. He’ll be fine, but… that was close.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Tony asked.

  “He will be. He just needs space.”

  “What about the rest of it? How did you stop that ghost? How did you make the wall go solid?” Tony’s questions were fast and excited, but his final question was far more hesitant. “Did you force that ghost to move on?”

  Tad was saved from having to answer when his phone rang. It was an automatic reaction to slide it out of his pocket and press the answer button.

  “Hello.”

  “Tad Holcroft?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Hello Mr Holcroft. This is Norah Parker, head teacher at—”

  “Of course,” Tad interrupted, suddenly more interested in his call than the events he just lived through. “Mrs Parker. Are you calling about Jen? Is she okay?”

  There was a moment of silence followed by an awkward answer.

  “Actually Mr Holcroft, that was what we were calling to ask you. We wondered if you came and collected Jen for any reason?”

  “What? No of course not. What’s going on?”

  His tone became more intense with every word and he could almost sense her cringing at the other end.

  “Well the best thing to do is not panic, Mr—”

  “I’m not panicking, I assure you. Just tell me what’s happened.”

  “Jen signed into registration and her first lesson of the day. However, she didn’t turn up for her second lesson and there’s still no sign of her after the morning break—”

  “Mrs Parker,” Tad interrupted. He had to force himself to whisper less his sudden dread overcome him. “Are you telling me that Jen has gone missing?”

  He saw Tony and Miriam flinch and he turned away from the distraction.

  There was another awkward p
ause on the other end of the line and then his worst fears were realised.

  “Uh… Mr Holcroft. I think it might be best if you came over here.”

  Tad didn’t even say goodbye. The phone was off in a heartbeat and he was running down the stairs two steps at a time. Mary tried to stop him on his way out but he ignored her and ran straight to his car.

  Miriam and Tony barely got in before the engine roared to life and he sped away from that house to the sound of an angrily revving engine and squealing tyres.

  It was a ten minute drive to the school, Tad aimed to get it done in under five. If that meant doing double the speed limit, then so be it.

  Jen was missing. Nothing else mattered.

  He pressed his foot onto the accelerator ever harder and the speedometer continued to climb.

  14

  Friday, 20th November 2015

  12:42

  Jen poked her head around the corner of the street, made sure no one was there, then hurried along the path. She wasn’t sure who might watch for her, but it was best to be careful. She hadn’t skipped school before and her heart had been beating like crazy ever since she’d left.

  After her unproductive talk with Tad on the way to school, she knew she had to take matters into her own hands. Since her talk with Maggie, she had been working out how to get a ghost of her own and teach herself what Tad refused to teach her.

  She couldn't concentrate in class. Her mind was stuck going over how helpless she felt seeing Tad injured and knowing she could get stronger if Tad would just let her Proxy.

  When the bell for the end of the first lesson rang, she was ready to go.

  Slipping out of school was easier than expected. They locked the gates, but the doors were still open and there was lots of cover around the edges of the school grounds where she could hide. Exploring the perimeter, moving from hedge to hedge and tree to tree had eventually turned up a broken part in the fence, and she was free.

  It had taken her a few days to figure out where to find a ghost. Being a Proxy would make it easier, but ghosts weren’t common. Outside of Tad’s ghosts, she didn’t encounter more than two or three a year. That was unacceptable. She needed one now.

  She set her target location as the one place she expected ghosts to congregate. If she couldn’t find any ghosts there, then she doubted she would find them anywhere.

  A quick look both ways before crossing the street and then another quick dash through a gate and finally she was standing in the shadow of an old church.

  It was a spooky, old gothic construction that had been built when churches were supposed to be grand affairs. Stained glass windows, huge spires, ancient stones, and an arched doorway made it an impressive building.

  Jen ignored it. Her interest was in the grounds surrounding it.

  The church hadn’t been used in a while and though someone cut the grass and kept the place tidy, the graves looked forlorn.

  The oldest ones were closest to the church. Jen glanced at a few cracked and faded stones as she passed, and couldn’t even read the names. She wondered how long they had to be there for the names to rub off like that.

  She stepped deeper into the graveyard and tried to tell herself that the shiver that ran down her spine was because of the cold rather than fear. It was just an abandoned church in the middle of the day. What was there to be scared of?

  There was something creepy about graveyards. Maybe it was the reminder of her mortality that made them frightening. But she was a Proxy. If there was anyone who didn’t need to fear death it was her. She tried to walk tall as she moved deeper into the graveyard.

  Considering there were houses on all sides, it was well sheltered. The trees had kept their leaves longer than usual this year, and though there were a lot of them on the ground, there was still enough shelter to leave Jen confident she wouldn’t be spotted.

  There wasn’t another living soul in the place. The trouble was that she couldn’t see a dead one either.

  She didn’t give up hope. It was a big graveyard. She kept her head up and continued through the stones.

  The ancient grey tablets and statues were replaced with clean, marble graves that were much easier to read. She liked these less than the older graves. There was a touch of character to the older ones that was fitting with the church. These new ones were ugly and mass produced.

  She stopped by one that was carved to look like an open book. There was a teddy-bear etched into one page and a name on the other. A child’s grave for a boy who had been a few years younger than her. Jen wondered if someone would have got her a grave like that had she been killed with her parents.

  She hoped not. It was tacky and horrible. Jen would much rather one of the big ones with the statues of angels on them. She liked their sense of drama.

  She was so caught up in her thoughts that she missed it at first. The sound was soft and barely carried. However, Jen slowly noticed it and looked up. Someone was crying.

  Finally.

  Standing over one of the newer graves closer to the perimeter of the graveyard was a ghost.

  Jen couldn’t make out much about him from the back. He was tall, not too old, and fat. She was disappointed. Jen wanted a younger ghost, maybe one about her age, and preferably a girl. She didn’t want an obese ghost. This ghost made Charles look thin.

  But he was the only one there and he would have to do. A surge of excitement rose in her, and she had to fight down her grin. She was about to get her first ghost, not counting her parents.

  The ghost didn’t hear her approach and didn’t even turn when she was right behind him and close enough that she could read the grave stone.

  WILLIAM THACKER. 1982-2014. BELOVED SON, FATHER AND BROTHER. WE’LL MISS THE JOKES.

  We’ll miss the jokes? She wondered what that meant. Was he a comedian? Was this even his grave? She figured there was only one way to find out.

  “Hello.”

  It was as though she hadn’t spoke. The fat man continued to look at the grave, crying so hard that his shoulders shook. He seemed to get louder and more dramatic. Jen thought it was overdone. She debated leaving him and waiting for the next ghost to come along. She didn’t want a cry baby.

  She doubted there would be another ghost though, so she tried again.

  “Hello.”

  The crying slowed.

  “Hello, mister. Is everything okay?”

  The shakes ceased as did the sobs, but he still didn’t look her way.

  “Are you okay, mister? I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I thought I could help. I am a Proxy, and I—”

  “Proooxxxyyy.”

  Jen shivered. She couldn’t help it. There was something not right about that voice. It was a hiss and wasn’t natural. She took a step back.

  “Yeah. That’s right. I’m a Proxy and I can—”

  “Prooxxyy.”

  It was quicker this time, sounding more excited. It frightened her even more.

  That edge of fear she had been fighting since entering the graveyard got a stronger grip. Suddenly her heart was beating fast for another reason. There was something wrong with this ghost.

  This had been a mistake.

  She was about to walk away when the ghost turned. It was all she could do not to scream.

  His face was wrong.

  Rather than eyes there were deep pits of endless black. His nose was missing and his mouth was too high up his face, far too large and inhumanly crooked.

  As he turned her way, trails of shadow spilled from his eyes. Jen choked back another scream as his crooked mouth split into a too wide grin and she saw the broken, jagged teeth inside. They weren’t human teeth, they were the teeth of an animal, a predator. They were teeth of nightmare.

  “Prooxxxyy,” it hissed one final time. As it talked shadow spilled from its mouth, pouring like liquid at first until it caught the breeze and billowed like smoke.

  Jen stared in stupefied horror as it lunged for her. Finally she screamed.

 
For such a big ghost it moved quicker than it had any right to. It’s reaching hands seemed to appear by her face and she shrieked as she tried to avoid them. The ghost hands flinched from her shriek, wavering as though the sound was rippling through them. The effect didn’t last long, and then it was reaching for her again.

  This time Jen didn’t wait around to scream at it, she was running. It was an awkward backward shuffle as she dare not turn her back on this thing, but when her leg bumped up against a gravestone, she knew she couldn’t keep going backwards.

  She turned and ran, sprinting as hard as she had ever run and knowing deep down she wasn’t quick enough. The grave stones past by her in a blur as she danced and dodged between them. With every sidestep she knew the ghost was gaining ground, and when she reached the line of ancient graves, she felt something grab her shoulder. Instantly her left arm went numb.

  That cold was like nothing she had ever felt. It was ice growing within her, slowly spreading like a disease, and she knew if she didn’t stop it soon, it would take everything from her.

  She looked at the hand on her shoulder, then followed that hand to a face that grinned and came closer. Its massive mouth opened so wide she could fit her whole head in it. Within that mouth was nothing but blackness.

  It descended as though he intended to eat her.

  It was no simple shriek or yelp this time. When she screamed, it was from the core of her being and held within it was every ounce of terror and regret she felt in that moment.

  The sound ripped through the creature like a blast from a shotgun. Its gaping shadowy maw blew apart, and the creature disintegrated into clouds of shadow that shrank back from her. The moment the hand released her, her shoulder tingled. Pins and needles ran through it as it tried to come back to life.

  Her scream faded as the ghost retreated. As the sound died, the ghost came together again. Gone was the form of the fat man and in its place was a shadow figure curled in on itself, pale hands clutched over a bald, round head as though protecting itself from the sound.

  She realised that she had injured it somehow. It had no protection against her scream. She was sure of it and at the same time didn’t want to wait around to test it further. She took advantage of its disorientation and she ran again.