Realm Wraith

by T. R. Briar

  “Thank you, Miranda, that should be all for now,” he told the nurse. She didn’t wait for him to finish, running out the door without even taking the care to close it gently, a slam resounding through the otherwise silent room.

  “Miranda, wait!” Rayne tried to call out, far too late as she was already gone.

  “Now then, Mr. Mercer.” The doctor seemed unaware of anything between them, not even glancing at the door where Rayne’s eyes were fixed. He seemed much more interested in reading over Rayne’s charts. “You won’t be using that arm right away. You need to exercise the muscles, but you also must take it easy. Don’t rush into it.”

  “Yes, doctor,” replied Rayne, not really absorbing the doctor’s words. “Are we done here?”

  “I’ll leave a list of specialists with the receptionist, so you can work out your rehabilitation. And buck up, this is a happy day.”

  Rayne forced a half hearted smile to meet the doctor’s more naïve sentiments. He shifted himself back into his chair, fully aware of how weak his arm had grown as he couldn’t support his body with it. But at least the heavy sensation of the cast was gone. The doctor opened the door for him, and Rayne looked up and down the hallway. He saw nobody, just long empty corridors. To the left he could see the waiting room, but he turned right instead, sensing a presence close by. He rolled by several empty rooms, but stopped beside the closed door of a janitorial closet. With quick precision he reached out to the door handle and threw it open.

  He already knew, even before he saw her. Miranda stood, huddled against the cleaning supplies, tears streaming down her pretty face. She looked to the door with a gasp as it flew open.

  “Rayne?” her voice wavered, a hand reaching up to cover her face, her tear streaked eyes. “How did you—?”

  He looked away from her, not wanting to stare at her when she seemed so vulnerable. “I don’t understand it myself, but ever since the accident, I’ve experienced all sorts of things I don’t really understand.” He turned his eyes back to her. “I think we need to talk.”

  Her cheerful demeanor had completely vanished, and she glared at him with a cold expression, wrought with sorrow.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you. I don’t know who you think you are, or what delusions you—”

  He cut her off. “We both know that place is real. I know that was you there, that night. And you know it was me. Please, I think we can help each other.”

  She stared with a blank expression on her face. Finally her eyes closed, and she nodded in defeat.

  “I get off at five,” she murmured. “There’s a café a short walk from here. It’s not very crowded so early in the evening. Meet you there at half past?”

  Rayne tried to smile as he nodded, but neither of them were in the mood for such niceties. “Five-thirty. I shall be there.”

  David waited for him outside, looking a little bewildered as Rayne rolled down the hall to him.

  “Rayne, the doctor said he finished with you five minutes ago, what took you so long?”

  He glanced back down the hall, unseeing as it was devoid of people, but he could still sense her walking nearby.

  “I was just having a little talk with Miranda. She and I—that is, this evening we made plans to—”

  “A date? Well I’ll be, look at you, barely out of the cast and already you’re making a move! Good for you!” A boisterous pat on the back almost knocked Rayne from his chair. “I take it you’ll be needing a ride.”

  “If you could drop me off, that’d be lovely. I must say, it’ll be nice to get out again. And I can put on a proper shirt. I’ve missed wearing those.”

  After being brought home, Rayne took the opportunity his new freedom brought him to take a nice long bath, now that he was able to. Using a sponge to keep clean really had no appeal. He had to be assisted into the tub, but the water felt nice; he noticed a strong realness to it as he lay there. Quite different from all the strange otherworldly lakes and oceans he’d come to known in the night, though he wasn’t sure if it was an improvement. At least here nothing threatened to eat him.

  After his bath, David helped him get dressed. It made him feel more normal, dressing up a little, instead of wearing whatever would fit around his cast. Movement was still difficult, though. He’d made at least one effort to use his weak arm to steer his chair, but it was so frail he could barely turn the wheel. He’d have to keep using the modification until his arm recovered. Being helpless frustrated him to no end, and he was tired of bothering David for help.

  Later that afternoon, he heard the door open, and his young son ran in, hugging him in greeting.

  “Daddy, look at what we made today!” he said, holding up a scribbled piece of artwork. There were crude figures there, mere mockeries of human beings with painted, smiling faces.

  “Oh, is that one me?” he asked, pointing to the person sitting down with scribbled golden hair.

  “Yes, Daddy, and that one’s me, and there’s David over there. And look, I drew you a fancy new chair, with rockets and everything!”

  “That’s brilliant. Wish I had one of those.”

  Levi looked at Rayne’s arms. “So now that your arm is better, you’re gonna go back to work then?”

  “No, not quite yet.”

  “Rayne still has some healing to do.” David stepped in. “His arm needs to exercise before he can use it again. And I don’t think he’s mentally ready to go back to work just yet.”

  “Ohhh, I see. So does that mean if Daddy exercises he can use his legs again?”

  The child’s innocent question tensed the once-friendly atmosphere. Rayne felt David’s eyes on him, but he didn’t take Levi’s curiosity as an insult. Just a sad reminder of what he’d lost.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” he said. “I just can’t use my legs. It’s not because they need exercise. It’s because my brain can’t tell them to move anymore.”

  “Oh.” Levi stared at the ground. Rayne bent down and hugged his son the best he could with his limited mobility.

  “It’s all right, Levi. Nothing’s changed. I might be in a chair, but I’m still me. I will always be your daddy, all right?”

  Levi sniffed, but he forced out a small smile and hugged his father.

  “Just take it easy for now,” David said. “Are you all ready for your date?”

  “Daddy’s going on a date?” Concern crossed Levi’s face.

  “Well, it’s not really a date, I’m just meeting someone for coffee, so we can talk a little. You remember Miranda, right?”

  “Oh, that really nice nurse?” Levi beamed. “I like her. But she always seems so sad.”

  David started. “Sad? Miranda’s one of the happiest people I know. What is it with you two?”

  “What?” His statement only confused Levi. Rayne was perplexed as well, not by David, but by his son. He wondered if Miranda had dropped her cheerful demeanor around Levi, when they had been alone together. And he mused over what other secrets this woman had been hiding, alone for so long.

  * * *

  The quaint little café down the street from the hospital stood hidden between taller buildings, an inviting sign over its front doors, and scattered tables huddled outside where people could enjoy their drinks out in the open air. But, as open and friendly as the place appeared, its customer base had dropped over the years, all but the most loyal of patrons moving on to fancier establishments. Not all was lost, as being close to the hospital still made it a gathering place for many newly released patients and doctors looking to spend their downtime somewhere.

  Darkness fell over the city, and the sun hung low in the sky on its descent below the skyline to make way for the coming night. Street lamps were just beginning to light up in these hours of dusk as David’s car pulled up along the street, and always being the good friend, he got out to help Rayne into his chair.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said, reaching into his coat. He pulled out a cell phone and handed it to Rayne. “Since
your old one was damaged in the accident, I thought you might like a newer model. If you need a ride home, don’t hesitate to call. And if you don’t need a ride home, feel free to call and tell me about that as well.” He winked.

  Rayne smirked back, and waved as his friend got back in the car and drove off into the sunset. He checked his watch: twenty past five. He couldn’t see Miranda, and for a moment he wondered if she’d had the nerve to stand him up. But then, they weren’t really dating. She couldn’t ignore a situation like this, and blow him off as she wished. Even if she did refuse to present herself, he knew where he could find her, in dreams.

  Instead of worrying about being alone, he entered the café and ordered himself a black coffee. Feeling cramped within the confines of the building, he chose to sit at one of the outdoor tables. There were fewer people outside to bother him. Almost no passer-bys walked the streets, and the only other occupant of the café tables was an older man some distance away, munching a scone. Rayne watched the sun as it fell lower and lower in the sky, and the growing shadows brought by its fading light. Then he felt her standing beside him, awkwardly posed, as if unsure of what to do.

  “You came,” he said.

  Outside, in the dim light of the evening, Miranda looked quite beautiful, though her face was quite thin, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She wore simple clothes, a blouse and low cut skirt beneath a burgundy jacket, and her wavy hair was tied back in a ponytail. In her hands she clutched a simple leather purse, her fingers digging into the taught material as she expressed a nervous attitude.

  “I suppose I’ll be getting myself a drink,” she stammered. “Won’t be a moment.”

  She placed her jacket down on the table where Rayne sat, and he watched her walk into the café. A short time later she came out, holding a latte. She sat down, eyes darting around.

  “I don’t— I’m not really sure where to start,” she mumbled.

  Rayne didn’t quite know where to begin either. With Gabriel, it had been more direct; the man had come to him. Miranda’s much more withdrawn attitude would not make this easy.

  “I suppose I didn’t really expect you to recognize me,” she said, mixing the foam of her drink. “When I heard your voice in that place, I didn’t know what to think. I prayed I was imagining things. I was embarrassed, and then when you came in today, I wasn’t sure what to do. I mean, I didn’t think I’d really heard you, but then when I saw the way you looked at me. ‘twas horrifying, it was. I just, I thought I was alone, deemed ‘twas simply me punishment.”

  “So you knew that it wasn’t a dream?”

  “Not at first. The first few nights that it happened, I thought I’d gone mad. But every night I came back there. I imagined something was wrong with me. I tried therapy, but no matter what breakthroughs I had, nothing changed. It finally dawned on me that I was supposed to be there, that I was being punished, and after that I just accepted it.” She looked down, trying to choke back tears again. “And as time passed, that place, it started to affect me. I lost all color in me skin, me hair fell out. It became harder and harder to see until finally, both my eyes, they just popped from me head, and everything went dark. A bit after that, I couldn’t open me mouth, and one night I found it’d been sewn shut, and I could no longer speak. ‘twas a terrible affair, but every morning I’d wake up, and I’d look completely normal, like nothing had happened.” Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper now, filled with disbelief from the words that poured from her lips, trying to stay quiet, to hide such words from the unwelcome public.

  “How long has this been happening to you?” Rayne was mortified to think her fate was one they all would share over time.

  “Five years.” She looked at him, wiping away tears. “And it’s only gotten worse. I fear it’s started to mingle into me real life. Vision’s gotten rather bad lately. And sometimes I have moments where I suddenly can’t speak. The doctors think it’s all in me head, but I know better.”

  It had never occurred to Rayne that what changed their souls in the Abyss would slowly corrupt their lives in the real world.

  “Please, Rayne, tell me what that place is.” Tears streamed down her face, her eyes red and puffy from built up misery. “And tell me, why would you be in someplace so horrible? You can’t have done anything so wrong that you would deserve to share my fate!”

  “Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “The demons call it the Abyss.”

  “Demons?!”

  “Yeah, it’s—well, it’s Hell, I suppose. But it’s less fire and pitchforks than I’d imagined. You and I, we’re what they call Realm Wraiths.”

  “Realm Wraiths? I heard someone mention that word.”

  Rayne took a deep breath as he composed himself. He explained everything to her, about the Abyss, about how only Realm Wraiths maintained awareness because they still lived, and about everything he’d experienced since his first arrival in that place. He did not mention Tomordred though, not wanting to frighten her by recounting how he’d almost been devoured.

  “Then you did something wrong?” Miranda asked when he finished. “Something that would d-damn you for all eternity?”

  “I think, maybe,” he sighed. “My head’s been a right mess since the accident. You recall when I came in to see Dr. Orban?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If I did something wrong, I don’t remember it, and that’s become a problem. So while I try to remember what I did, I’m stuck there.” His face grew stern. “And none of the others want to admit any wrong doings.”

  Miranda’s face filled with grief, a crestfallen look of despair etched in her features. “So that’s it then,” she murmured. “I’m there because I’ve sinned.” Her body trembled, and she sobbed into her hands.

  Rayne wheeled himself around the table to sit beside her, and he tried to put a reassuring arm on her shoulder.

  “Whatever it is, there must be some way to identify what you did, so you can atone for it.”

  “No, you’re wrong!” she cried. “I do deserve to be there. I’ve done something horrible, and I can never be forgiven for it.”

  “Tell me.”

  She stared at him, agape at his bluntness.

  “Please? I want to help you. Whatever it is you’ve done, you always seemed like such a good person. Look at what you do for a living, you help people. You bend over backwards to be nice to others and make them feel comfortable, even when you’re miserable. You’re not a monster.”

  “But I am,” she sobbed, leaning on the table. “You would never understand. You have a son that you love so much, and I could never—I-I—” her voice froze, all sound vanishing in that instant. A strangled gurgle escaped her mouth and her eyes went wide in horror, as she clutched at her throat.

  “Calm down, please. Just,” Rayne tried to collect his thoughts, “tell me what happened. Does it have something to do with my son?”

  “N-no.” She’d found her voice again. “It’s my son. I killed him!” She began crying again, bawling into her arms as they lay stretched out over the table.

  Rayne gasped. He didn’t even know she had a child, and as a father himself, this news distressed him. He could see the old man at the next table staring at them now, as Miranda was calling attention with her weeping.

  “Maybe we should move elsewhere,” he whispered to her. “Come on, let’s walk a bit, clear our heads.”

  She wiped the tears from her face, utter misery marring her beauty. With a soft sniffle she picked up her purse. She looked very uncomfortable, but Rayne knew she couldn’t run away from this now. They left the gentle lights of the café together and went down the street. She kept a slow pace as Rayne rolled his chair beside her.

  “His father left us when he was born,” she said, after a moment of silence. “I tried my best to raise him alone, but it was just too difficult. I had to work two jobs just to pay the bills. He was always crying and bawling, like infants do. I would sometimes fantasize about leaving him on someone’s doorstep, wh
ere somebody with better means could take him in, raise him as their own son. But it was my child, and I was stubborn.”

  She sighed, continuing on in that same detached tone. “One winter’s night, he was sick, and wouldn’t stop crying. I put him in the car to take him to the doctor, but all I could think was how much of a burden this was and how I couldn’t afford all this. And as we drove, he just kept screaming and shrieking and it drove me positively mad. I couldn’t take it anymore. When we drove across the bridge overlooking a river, I decided I’d had it. I’d put an end to our miserable existence, and be done with it forever. I turned the wheel as hard as I could and that was it. We plunged into the river, and as the water filled the car, he finally stopped crying.”

  Rayne tried to measure his response without sounding too judgmental. “God, that’s awful. But you survived.”

  “I did.” She looked down to him. “Another driver saw the car go over the edge. He called the police, and dove in after me. Quite the hero, he was. I drowned, but they resuscitated me. As for me son, a young sick infant, in freezing waters, he never had a chance. They all thought it was an accident, that I’d slipped on a patch of ice and lost control of the car. Everybody pitied me, and no one blamed me. And that was when it started. Every night, I go to that place. And I can no longer see. All I ever hear is that horrible screaming, like the shrieking of me son as I snuffed out his life.”

  Rayne sat in his chair, stunned. Though he had asked her to tell him the truth, he wasn’t sure what to think of it. He had never expected this kind, caring woman to do something like that.

  “So you see,” she continued on. “I’ve earned my place there. You’d best stop this talk about atonement. Me whole life since then has been one long nightmare. Nothing I do can ever make up for this. I dedicate myself to caring for others, but no matter who I help, or how many lives are saved because of me, nothing can make up for that one life I took away.”