The Mouth of the Dark

by Tim Waggoner

  When he was finished, Nicola said, “Ohio Pig? That man is a lunatic. Some people who can see into Shadow are revolted by it – even more so by their attraction to it. This self-loathing prompts them to lash out at other denizens of Shadow, and in the Pig’s case, it spurs him to violence. You’re lucky he didn’t hurt you. You’re not so lucky that he’s taken it on himself to search for your daughter. His kind of help you don’t need. He’s so damn erratic, though, that there’s a good chance he’ll end up getting distracted by something else and will forget about her.”

  She sounded doubtful about this last part, and Jayce wished he hadn’t answered Ohio Pig’s questions. Yeah, the man had been holding a knife to his throat, but what if he turned out to be a danger to Emory and he’d put him on her trail?

  “I’m sorry you got a surprise tentacle-job from the Pink Devil,” Nicola said. “Those things can get out of control fast if you don’t know what you’re doing – and sometimes even if you do.”

  Jayce burned with shame as he thought about what the creature or machine or whatever the hell it was had done to him, and how his body had responded, even though he hadn’t wanted it to.

  “I know where she bought it,” Nicola continued, “so that’s one place we can check out. Same for the bookstore where she picked up Liber Ab Oblivione, or in English, The Book of Oblivion. It’s kind of a starter’s guide to Shadow. It’s mostly harmless, not like The Book of Masks or The Book of Depravity.”

  “I found a bunch of clay jars in her refrigerator, like the one you bought at CrazyQwik last night. What are they?”

  “They’re called vessels. They’re made of clay mixed with bits of Shadow itself. They can hold all sorts of things. Things you didn’t know could exist as well as things that shouldn’t exist.”

  Jayce thought about the many vessels in Emory’s refrigerator, and he wondered what dark dangers – and wonders – they contained.

  “Last night you told the dog-eaters that your vessel held the screams of a hundred men. Was that true?”

  Nicola just smiled, and Jayce decided to change the subject.

  “What about the strange voice I heard after leaving Emory’s apartment?”

  He remembered hearing the single word whispered in a soft, dark voice – Soon – and frost collected on his spine.

  “I honestly have no idea what it might have been. Once you start interacting with Shadow, you can draw the attention of all kinds of nasty things. If you ignore them, most of the time they’ll leave you alone.”

  Most of the time. Jayce didn’t like the sound of that.

  He was beginning to despair that he’d never find Emory. The normal world was dangerous enough, but Shadow was a nightmare world filled with lunatics and monsters. The odds that something bad had happened to Emory were excellent, and from what he’d seen so far, death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to someone in Shadow. Not by a long shot.

  “Everyone comes to Crimson Splendor,” Nicola said, “and even if your daughter’s like me – someone who’s careful not to step too far into Shadow – she’d at least come here once in a while. She might even be a regular. This place is relatively safe, at least compared to some. So I figured it would make a good starting point to begin looking for her.”

  “So what do we do? Walk around and ask people about her? I have fliers in my car, but I didn’t bring them in with me. Should I go get them?”

  Nicola shook her head.

  “I said this place was relatively safe, but it’s not a good idea to randomly approach people here – not unless you want to get your face ripped off. I called a friend of mine earlier. She knows a hell of a lot more about what goes on in the Shadow-side of town than I do. I’m hoping she might know your daughter, or at least have seen her around. She might be able to give us a lead.”

  “Is your friend here now?” He looked around, as if hoping to see a woman walking toward their table, but there was no one.

  “Not yet. She usually doesn’t make an appearance until around midnight. She should be here soon.” She paused before going on. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m not talking about finding Emory. Of course you want to do that. But are you sure you want to keep looking in Shadow? It’s not safe – well, you know that by now – but like I said earlier, Shadow changes you if you spend too much time in it, and it changes you in ways you can’t anticipate. Are you willing to risk that?”

  He didn’t have to think about his answer.

  “Yes.”

  It was what any concerned parent would say, he knew that. He also knew that he’d only had the briefest of introductions to Shadow, and that as bad as it seemed so far, it could – and likely would – get far worse. He suspected that not only would he be risking his life, but his sanity, and maybe even his very soul. But none of this changed his answer. Emory was his daughter, and he’d do whatever it took to find her.

  You’re a fool, Mother said.

  Maybe so, but it still didn’t change his answer.

  “Outside, Trevor said he smelled something on me. Dead leaves and moonlight, something like that. He also spoke a name: the Harvest Man. Do you know who or what that is?”

  Up to this point in their limited acquaintance, Nicola had struck Jayce as cool, calm, and utterly confident. But now she froze, wineglass halfway to her mouth, eyes wide. She recovered quickly and brought the glass the rest of the way to her mouth, but her hand shook as she did so. She took a long drink, draining the rest of the glass, and set it down on the table. Her hand trembled less as she did this, but it still trembled.

  “He’s Shadow’s version of the boogeyman. The story goes that the more people interact with Shadow, the more we inject life into it, slowing its rate of decay. If that rate slows too much, the Harvest Man appears to speed it back up again, to bring balance back to Shadow.”

  “How does he do that?”

  Nicola ignored his question. “It’s just a story. Even Shadow has its legends.”

  She gave him a smile then, but he didn’t find it to be a particularly comforting one.

  “You said you’re helping me because you know what it’s like to become lost in Shadow.”

  “Yes.”

  She was quiet for a time after that, and Jayce thought she wouldn’t say more on the matter, but then she began talking.

  “I’ve had glimpses of Shadow all my life. I’d see strange people and things that I couldn’t explain, none of which my family and friends ever saw.”

  Jayce thought once more of the cankerworms devouring the giraffe. Nicola went on.

  “One day when I was in junior high, a friend and I decided to walk to a gas station to get some slushies. We lived on the edge of the Cannery, but our neighborhood was safe. At least, that’s what our parents thought. As we walked, a black van pulled up alongside us and the side door slid open. I can’t tell you who or what was inside. I saw only darkness so thick it was like something solid. Then hands emerged from the darkness. They grabbed hold of me and Gretchen and yanked us inside. The door slammed shut, the van picked up speed, and Gretchen and I tried to scream but the darkness itself seemed to cover our mouths and muffle our voices.”

  She paused and tried to take a sip of her wine, only to find that her glass was empty. She put it down, more than a little regretfully, Jayce thought, and continued.

  “I can’t tell you where we were taken. I didn’t know the Cannery back then. Some abandoned building. I remember going down stairs, Gretchen beside me, a dark figure behind us, cold hands on our shoulders. I don’t remember anything after that until I found myself sitting on my parents’ front porch. That was two weeks after I disappeared. Gretchen never came back.”

  Jayce still had half his beer left, and he handed it to Nicola. She took the bottle without comment and downed the rest of its contents.

  “I was examined at the hospital,” she said, “and
as near as the doctors could determine, nothing was wrong with me. I hadn’t been injured or sexually abused. The police questioned me, but I couldn’t tell them much. They kept looking for Gretchen, but I knew they’d never find her. And they didn’t. Afterward, I could see into Shadow more clearly than ever before, and I began tentatively exploring it, hoping to find Gretchen. I spent a good part of my adolescence in Shadow, learning everything I could about it while trying to be careful not to let it swallow me up the way it had her. I came to understand Shadow, even enjoy it, but I know better than to let my guard down, even for a second.”

  Jayce found it interesting that Nicola had experienced a period of missing time too, although hers had been far longer than his. And both their experiences had happened when they were roughly the same age. He almost told her about the man with the gray-skinned feet, but he decided against it. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he didn’t want to turn the conversation away from her and onto him. Maybe because even after almost forty years, he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened that day. Maybe he never would be.

  Nicola really did know what it was like to become lost in Shadow, he thought, and the fact she had somehow escaped her captor – or for some unknown reason been set free – gave him hope that he’d find Emory and bring her home. Nicola’s story was proof Shadow could be survived…at least sometimes.

  “When did you first become aware that you could, you know. See?”

  Nicola thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t remember a time I couldn’t. I’ve got three brothers and a sister, and none of them can See. Neither can my parents. At least, I don’t think any of them can. I suppose any of them might be able to but have never felt comfortable talking about it.” She smiled. “It’s not the sort of thing you bring up over family dinners.”

  Or maybe they’re like you, Jayce, Mother said. They don’t have the guts to remember the things they See.

  “I do remember the first time I realized most other people couldn’t see the same thing I did. I was in preschool. The teacher’s name was Mandy. I can’t remember her last name. It was storytime, and the kids all sat on the floor while Mandy sat in a wooden chair and read a picture book to us, pausing after each page to make sure we all had a chance to look at the picture before turning to the next page. I remember the book she was reading that day. Blueberries for Sal. Do you know it?”

  He nodded. “I used to read it to Emory. It was one of her favorites.”

  “While Mandy read, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to look, I saw a boy sitting a few feet away from me: Steve Slater. He had thin blond hair, and his skin was so pale it was almost chalk-white. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, unless Mandy had us do a group activity of some sort. He’d participate then, dutifully if not enthusiastically, and then he’d return to minding his own business. I’m not sure I even heard him speak, come to think of it. As Mandy read, Steve’s gaze wasn’t focused on the pictures in the book, but rather on a point in the air directly in front of his face. I didn’t know what he was looking at. There was nothing there. Except, when I looked closely at the spot Steve stared at, I thought I could detect a faint shimmer, as if that small space wasn’t quite as confident in its existence as the area surrounding it. And then a small round object appeared in front of Steve. A blue object. It hung in the air, motionless, and I grinned in delight. As I said, I’d been used to seeing strange things all my life, but up to this point I’d never witnessed anything appear out of thin air like that. I thought it was a wonderful trick.

  “After a moment, Steve reached out with his too-white fingers and plucked the blueberry out of the air and popped it into his mouth. He bit down and there was a crunching noise followed by a muffled scream. It startled me, and I jumped. ‘Are you all right, Nicola?’ Mandy asked. She’d stopped reading and was looking at me with concern. The other kids were looking at me, some with confusion, some with small smiles and a gleam in their eyes, as if hoping I was going to get into trouble. ‘Are the bears too scary for you?’ Mandy asked.”

  Jayce remembered the story well. A mother takes her young daughter out to pick blueberries on a hillside. On the opposite side of the hill, a mother bear is showing her cub how to eat blueberries. The girl and the cub are both so absorbed with eating the luscious blueberries that they don’t realize they accidently switch places, and the girl ends up following the mama bear and the cub ends up following the human mother. Eventually the two children – one human, one ursine – are reunited with their proper mothers and everything is right again.

  “Of course the bears didn’t scare me,” Nicola said. “They weren’t drawn scary and they didn’t do anything scary in the story. But no one had turned to look at Steve as he bit down on the blueberry – or whatever it was – and it screamed as it died. They were all looking at me. I realized then that they weren’t looking at him because they hadn’t heard the scream. ‘Nicola?’ Mandy said. ‘Do you need me to stop reading?’ Another small blue sphere appeared in front of Steve and he took this one from the air just like the first and put it into his mouth. Another crunch and another scream, only this time as he chewed, a thin line of red trickled from one corner of his mouth. I knew it wasn’t blueberry juice. It was blood. Again, no one but me noticed.

  “I shook my head. ‘No, Mandy,’ I said. ‘I’m okay now.’ Mandy looked at me for one moment more, as if she didn’t quite believe me, but then she smiled and returned to reading. Some of the kids giggled and whispered, giving me sidelong glances, but most returned their attention to Mandy and the story. Steve was looking at me now, and more lines of blood ran from his mouth. He grinned, displaying blood-slick teeth, and then he pursed his lips and put his index finger to them in a shushing motion, as if to say, Don’t tell. It’ll be our secret.

  “He looked away from me and went on to eat four more of those magically appearing things. Each one screamed as it died, and by the time the story was finished, his chin was covered with blood, and it had dripped down and dotted the front of his T-shirt with dark splotches.”

  Nicola paused for several moments, thinking.

  “I have no idea what happened to Steve. One day he stopped coming to school. Mandy never remarked on it, and neither did any of the other kids. It was as if he’d never existed. I sometimes wonder if something appeared in front of him that was too big and fast for him to eat, and it got him before he could get it.”

  She fell silent again for a time after that, lost in the memory, Jayce assumed. But she eventually gave him a sad smile.

  “It’s a lonely thing, having the Eye. Knowing that reality is far stranger – and darker – than most people will ever be able to perceive. It’s why places like Crimson Splendor exist. It gives those of us who’ve been touched by Shadow, whether in big ways or small, a place to go where we can be around others like us. When you’re in a place where everyone’s strange—”

  “No one is,” Jayce finished.

  She nodded. “I suppose that’s why I was compelled to help you. You were alone, looking for a daughter who was like me. My family are all still alive, all still more or less healthy. But if I went missing, none of them would come looking for me. They wouldn’t have the slightest clue where to start. But when you went to CrazyQwik, I could see that you saw how strange it was, and it didn’t deter you. You were going to keep on looking for your daughter no matter how much crazy-ass shit you encountered. I wish I had someone who loved me that much.” She gestured at the people near them. “We all do.”

  Jayce smiled at her. “I’ll go get us some more drinks.”

  He rose and picked up her empty glass and his empty bottle, and when Nicola started to stand, he told her he wanted to go alone. He needed to learn to take care of himself in Shadow, and he thought a solo trip to the bar would be a good start.

  Nicola sat back down. “Okay, but be careful.”

  He promised h
e would and then headed for the bar.

  The high-pitched singing – if it could be called singing – coming from the woman on stage was making his head hurt. Maybe a second drink would help, especially considering he’d only had half of his first one. Thinking of his headache made him think of his skull colliding with the alley wall last night, and he wondered if the two dog-eaters who’d attacked him – Reta and Zach – were here. The last thing he needed was for them to see him and try to pick up where they’d left off last night. They were minors, sure, but he doubted that mattered here. Whatever factors Trevor used to determine who got into Crimson Splendor, Jayce doubted age was one of them. He looked around to see if he could spot them, but the damn crimson lighting made it difficult to make out anyone clearly who wasn’t in his immediate vicinity. The two teens could be here and he wouldn’t know it. Hopefully, the same would prove true for him, and if they were here they wouldn’t spot him – or catch his scent.

  He made it to the bar without anything more serious happening than having a few people give him hairy eyeballs as he passed their tables. He put the empties down on the bar and managed to order two more of the same without staring at Nyla’s fourteen boneless fingers. As she handed him the drinks, her fingers brushed his, and they felt soft and squishy, like a surgical glove filled with thick syrup. He shuddered, paid with cash, told her to keep the change, and started back to the table. As he drew closer, he saw that Nicola was no longer alone.

  The woman was Asian and older than Nicola, older than him too, although how much older it was difficult to say. The crimson light made it difficult to judge her age, but Jayce thought he’d have a hard time guessing it even if she stood in broad daylight. She could’ve been in her sixties, seventies, or even eighties. She had a long oval face with high cheekbones and a sharp nose. Her lips were thin, and as near as he could tell in this light, she wore no makeup. Her hair was long and spilled down her back to her waist. He assumed it was white, gray, or silver, but the crimson lights made it look red, another factor that contributed to making her age ambiguous. She wore a black tuxedo with a bowtie, and while she wore no earrings, her long, slender fingers were covered with rings, three on each digit, two behind the knuckles, one in front.