Realm Wraith

by T. R. Briar

  “Can you tell me about myself? What was I like as a child?”

  “Ah, you were a precocious youngster. Very clever, very curious. Imaginative, too. Always pretending, talking to imaginary friends. Your father didn’t care for that, took his belt to you more than once, he did. You straightened out as you got older, tried to do your father proud.”

  “And what about—?” Rayne wasn’t quite sure how to phrase things. “Did anything happen, when I was a child? Something bad, something that might have traumatized me?” He remembered the pit. Surely something as drastic as being buried alive would be gossip for the neighbors.

  “Something bad? Well, no, not to my recollection.”

  “Do you recall a boy my age? Something of a bully, who used to get into rows with me? Whatever happened to him?”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “I can’t recall anybody like that ‘round this neighborhood. Was he your age?”

  “Yes, we were the exact same age.”

  “Nope. There were lots of kids ‘round here when you were young, but I don’t recall anybody picking on you. There were a few bigger rascals that caused a ruckus. Fair bit older than you, though. And you were quite the troublemaker yourself.”

  “I was?”

  “Oh yes, very mischievous. I recall when you damaged the floorboards in Mrs. Winkle’s house, she almost broke her ankle ‘cause of that. Then there was that time you let opened the door to Farmer Rochester’s sheep paddy, and they escaped into the woods. Wild dogs got most of them. And let’s not forget when you got behind the wheel of your father’s car and drove it into a tree. He was right furious with you. Oh, right, there was that too.” The old man looked down. “You and the girl down the road, Caitlin, I think her name was. You were playing down by the river. The way I heard it you stole her doll and tried to throw it into the water. She went to grab it and you pushed her in. Almost drowned, she did. Lucky for her the river washed her ashore after dragging her along a bit. Your father really scolded you for that. That’s when he put you in boarding school. I think that’s what got you to start shaping up.”

  “I did that?” gasped Rayne.

  “Aye. But you were only seven. It was a cruel act, but children can be very cruel sometimes. And look at you now, such a fine young man. Your mother was always quite proud of you, but she was especially pleased to see how kind and caring you became. She told me so many times. And your father seemed pleased that you were shaping up to be a proper gentleman. No more imaginary friend nonsense, no more mischief; you were going to study law, and have the proper career he wanted you to have.”

  “I never knew.” Rayne looked at the man. “Was this Caitlin all right?”

  “Oh, certainly. She wasn’t in the river long, and it was the dry season, so the water wasn’t that deep.”

  “Oh.”

  “You really have forgotten, haven’t you?”

  “It’s mostly a blur, sorry to say.” Rayne leaned forward. “Could you perhaps tell me anything about my dog?”

  Nearby he noticed David leaning against the car steering wheel. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, but Rayne couldn’t shake the feeling he was eavesdropping, the sneak.

  The old man took pause. “Your dog?”

  “Yes, I had a dog once. Named Kueyin.”

  “I think you might be a bit confused, lad.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well you never had any pets growing up. Your father would never allow it. I’m not certain why you would think you had a dog.”

  “It’s one of the few things I remember clearly.” Rayne creased his brow, not understanding how this one childhood memory could be a lie.

  “I’m not sure whose memories those are, but I can tell you right out, you didn’t have a dog. Maybe you saw it in a film somewhere. Or perhaps it was a flight of fancy; you were always imagining crazy things as a lad. Maybe you pretended you had a dog. And now that your head’s a mess, you can’t tell fantasy from reality. Might explain why you remember some boy who never existed neither.”

  “I guess.” The memories felt far too real to Rayne to be made up.

  “Well, I’d best be going. The missus will scold me if I’m not inside in time for supper. You take care, lad, and don’t be a stranger.”

  “Right. Thank you for speaking to me, sir.”

  “See what I mean? Such a polite young man.”

  As Rayne watched the man stroll up the sidewalk, another notion occurred to him.

  “Sorry, one more thing,” he called out.

  “What is it, lad?”

  “When I was about ten, was there any sort of incident? Like, one of the houses in this neighborhood catching fire?”

  “In this neighborhood? Hasn’t been a fire for about a century. Sounds like another flight of fancy to me.”

  “I see. Thank you.”

  Rayne returned to David’s car, mind filled with thoughts. Not only were his fleeting memories a lie, he realized, but Darrigan lied to him as well. That whole story about seeing Rayne as a child, was any of it true? Rayne had not seen the reaper in many nights, but he made a mental note to confront him the next time they met.

  “So somebody knew you,” David remarked. “Did you remember anything?”

  “Not really. But apparently I was a right bastard as a child.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  They drove home in silence, while Rayne watched the road, and thought about everything he’d learned during his visit. Was he really guilty of such childhood mischief, capable of being so cruel? And could he have done something in the past so terrible that it would condemn his soul to the Abyss? These concerns plagued him, but he had no way to quiet them.

  * * *

  The sun sank deep beneath the horizon by the time they arrived back in Langfirth. The darkened streets made navigation more difficult, and the evening traffic slowed them down to a crawl. David turned off onto a side street to speed things up. Rayne didn’t recognize anything in this part of town.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah, the hospital’s over that way. It’s out of the way, but this way’s better when there’s traffic.”

  “The hospital?”

  Rayne looked out the window, just as they drove past the bright lights of the hospital. He looked down the street, and saw the familiar old café. At least these places were familiar. David drove for a few blocks more. He came to a stop beside a block of apartment buildings, as another car crossed the intersection in front of them.

  “Let’s see, I think this neighborhood’s about six kilometers from home,” David said.

  Movement caught Rayne’s eye and he looked outside again. Even in the darkness he recognized that form, and the soul within it: Miranda, walking home from work. She did not notice him there in the car. He wondered if he should say hello. She walked down the street and approached her apartment building, passing through the front door.

  Rayne didn’t know what to do. He felt he ought to go see her, ask how she was doing, let her know he was all right. He hadn’t seen her at all since the night they had read that book together, not in the real world, and not in the Abyss. But nervousness gripped him, he didn’t want to impose on her by dropping by unannounced.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, banging his head against the window in frustration. He was beginning to understand just how repressed he was, from his father’s upbringing, from life in general. “Stop the car.”

  “What’s that now?”

  “I just want to say hello to Miranda. Do you mind?”

  “Oh no, not at all.” David pulled up to the curb, and unlocked the doors.

  Rayne pushed his chair out first, and steadied his body as he moved himself over to the seat. Once he was settled, he followed Miranda’s faded path through the front door right into the lobby, eying the mailboxes lined against the wall. They were labeled, with names and flat numbers, so he searched until he
found a name.

  “Miranda Tomille, 3F,” he noted. This old building had only one elevator, and it wasn’t in the best of shape, but he didn’t have much choice. He rode the rickety thing to the third floor, where he stared down the hall. The lights were dim, the wallpaper peeling. Miranda’s means were not enough for her to live in a better maintained building. He wheeled across stained carpet until he reached a door, with the letters '3F’ half-hanging off it. He hesitated as he raised his hand to knock, but a voice screamed at him in the back of his mind, urging him to do it. So he knocked.

  He sat there in the dark hallway feeling dumb for a few minutes. He turned to leave, despite the protests coming from inside his head, telling him to stay and knock again. Then he heard footsteps, and the door cracked open.

  “Rayne?” She sounded surprised.

  “Hi. I was out for a stroll, and I saw you walking. Thought I’d pop by, say hello, see how you’re doing.”

  She was very pale, nervous, and looked at him with darkened eyes framed by bags. She shuffled on her feet with an unsteady stance. After a moment of hesitation, she reached up to unchain the door and threw it open the rest of the way.

  “Please, come in,” she said, though her voice sounded hollow.

  He took her half hearted invitation and entered. The apartment was small, cramped, but the décor was pleasant. A pale carpet covered the ground, an old couch with white upholstery and two matching armchairs lay spread around a low table. A large window peered into the outside world, but its only view was of a brick wall, the building across the alley. The light here was also dim, coming from a singular lamp standing near one of the armchairs.

  “Your place is lovely,” Rayne remarked.

  “Me mum always said I had a good eye for decoration,” Miranda said. She shut the door behind her. “I don’t have much to offer. Haven’t had a chance to visit the shops. Would you like a beer?”

  “Oh, certainly, I’d love one.”

  He watched her open her fridge. It was nearly empty, save for a carton of milk, some leftover Chinese food, and a few bottles of beer on the bottom shelf. She grabbed two, handing one to Rayne and taking the other for herself.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she said. Rayne did so, parking his wheelchair next to the sofa, where Miranda sat down. She opened her beer and gulped it down. Rayne followed her example.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said, still quiet. “David acted like everything was normal. I knew if you’d died, he’d have said so. So, then, you didn’t confront the demon after all, did you?”

  “Actually, I did. I convinced him to let me go. He won’t be hunting me anymore.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “I suppose you are.” She took another sip of her beer. “I’m still here, too.”

  Rayne wondered if this was her first drink. She’d only been home a short while, but for all he knew, she’d stopped elsewhere first. She did not seem disoriented, but her state of mind seemed clouded, distanced.

  “I’m glad you’re all right,” she said after some silence. “You’ve taken to your chair quite well.”

  “Yeah. Never realized how useful legs were before the accident, you know?” he laughed.

  She sipped her beer again, not interested in following up to that. Her hair was disheveled, her blouse was buttoned wrong, one loose ornament with no cloth to fasten itself to hanging there, misaligned. Her eyes had a glazed look to them, the once clear green irises clouded, mud stained. Rayne couldn’t help looking past her, seeing a miserable white form hunched over, eyeless, features sewn shut. Rusted chains draped it, adding to the sense of misery. She caught his gaze.

  “It’s hard to think clearly these days,” she whispered. “There’s just constant pain, a reminder of what I really am. Even when I’m awake, I only hear screaming, here in me head.”

  Rayne remained silent; he had no words of comfort for her now.

  “Sometimes, I just think it would be better to be one of them. To not be aware anymore. I’d be in pain, but I wouldn’t really know about it, you know? Or—”

  Rayne did not like what he was hearing. “Or—?”

  “Or maybe even better, to just have it all end. To know nothing. To feel nothing. No more pain, no more suffering. It would be just the end. I’d never have to feel anything again.”

  “Why would you want something so horrible?”

  “Because I’m miserable, Rayne. I know if I die, I’ll lose my mind. And only pain will remain. But oblivion, that would take the pain away, and I’d never have to suffer.”

  “Miranda, don’t talk like that. The Abyss has clouded your judgment. You’ve been suffering so long, you’ve forgotten what happiness is. You can be happy again!”

  “No, I can’t!” she cried, tears in her eyes.

  “Miranda, I think you’ve had enough.” Rayne moved closer, and reached out to take the beer bottle from her, though it didn’t have much left inside.

  “Stop it!” she yelled, yanking her hand back. She took pause, and handed over the bottle.

  “You’re always looking out for me,” she sobbed. “You seem to care so much about redeeming me, helping me. I think it’s foolish, but I’ve actually come to care for you. When we first met, in the hopsital, you, barely able to move, to speak. You had such intense eyes, I couldn’t help falling into them, and I thought ‘well he’s an handsome fella, ain’t he?’ And you were so helpless, but so friendly, and I always looked forward to looking in on you. And then things turned around and you tried so hard to help me. You took to the Abyss much better than I ever did. For a brief moment, I almost dared to hope that maybe you would be the one to set me free. But now I get it. Now I see. I know you can never care for me the way I do for you but, do you care for me at all?”

  Her question surprised Rayne. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain how he felt about her inside.

  “I do think you’re a very beautiful, caring woman with a lot to give. I greatly enjoy your company when I’m in the Abyss, even if you can’t speak.”

  “But that’s just a description. how do you feel? About me?”

  Rayne looked away, unsure. “I do think I feel something for you. A sense of—I don’t know.”

  The word that played in his head was desire, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He had never thought about such feeling before. He could smell a light perfume coming from her, and its scent thrilled him. She looked beautiful to him, despite being so disheveled; her outfit accented her figure and showed off the soft skin of her neckline, and Rayne could feel his primal want overwriting his common sense.

  She suddenly reached out and grabbed him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips against his. He twitched in surprise at her advances, wrapping one arm around her, pressing a hand up against her chest, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin. He could feel passion welling up inside him, in her as well, and he savored it. There was a dangerous edge to his emotion that frightened him, and he tried to press it back down inside him, not wanting to indulge in it.

  This isn’t right! The words rattled in his head. He feared giving in to these feelings. He let his lips linger against hers, but refused to go further than this despite his body’s protests to the contrary, and the overwhelming desire inside him to take her right there on the couch. He forced his face back and looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes, even as she gazed at him. He felt foolish, yet oddly liberated, acting on impulse like this, but he dared not let it go on, and instead he held her close to him, choking back the feelings of pain coursing through him from having her so close, yet so distant from him. He drew in a deep breath, forcing his emotions to settle down. After a few moments in his arms, Miranda pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s all right,” he replied, still looking away. “You’re inebriated. You weren’t thinking clearly.”

  He didn’t have to look at
her to see her crestfallen face, but he knew he wasn’t much of a gentleman if he took advantage of a drunken woman like this, no matter how strong his feelings for her. For a few minutes neither of them spoke.

  “Rayne, I want you to promise me something,” Miranda said after a few minutes, staring downwards.

  “Name it.”

  “If I—If I should pass on. If I should end up there, in the Abyss, like all of them—”

  “Miranda, please—”

  “Listen to me!” She slammed her hand down on the table. “If it happens, and you find me there. I want you to end me.”

  “What?!”

  “I know you can find a way. There’s a lot of creatures out there that could feed off a pitiful soul like me. My existence can end, and I will finally know peace.”

  “You can’t ask me to make a promise like that!”

  “Please, Rayne, I’m only asking if it comes to that! I want to know that I can count on you to grant me my last wish, when there’s no longer any other choice!”

  A pained expression crossed Rayne’s face. He couldn’t understand why she would even think about something like this. But he closed his eyes, and nodded.

  “If it comes to that, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You promise?”

  Rayne opened his eyes again. “I promise.”

  She exhaled a long breath. “Thank you, Rayne.” She stood from the couch, straightening out her skirt and staggering on her feet. “I wonder what it feels like,” she mused. “Do you simply lose everything? Become as if you were nothing? Or does a small fragment of you live on, as part of the demon that devoured you?”

  “Miranda, you’re babbling nonsense. I think you’ve had far too much to drink.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right.”

  “Go drink some water, it’ll clear your head a little.”