by Andy Morris
Forever True
By Andy Morris
Copyright 2014 Andy Morris
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Forever True
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Forever True
Hunted by demons from the Afterlife and pursued by a vicious thug in the real world, Connor True was caught between both planes of existence, locked in a coma from which he could not awaken. His mind was active but his body had shut down. The walls of the tiny prison cell of in his head pressed in around him threatening to crush his sanity and there was nothing he could do about it.
In the loneliness of his condition he was forced to relive, with disturbing clarity, the vicious beating he had received from Dale Tanner. When he wasn’t thinking about Tanner he was plagued by the terrifying images of the demon, Abiku, devouring his grandmother’s soul right before his eyes. Connor felt he was at the mercy of an avalanche of pain and fear. As lay imprisoned inside his broken body he felt like he was buried beneath a landslide of helplessness. The suffocating claustrophobia threatened to smother him with a rumbling madness if he didn’t somehow dig his way out.
There was still no way to tell where he was or what was happening to him. His eyes still refused to open. He could still be lying in the road where Tanner had left him or he could be in hospital. Or, much more disturbingly he may have been found, thought to be dead, and had been buried alive! Connor tried to cry out again but the weight of his damaged body denied him an outlet to express his panic.
He couldn’t stay in this nightmare much longer but he couldn’t wake up either. The only way out was a glowing psychic door at the back of his mind. It was the only exit from this mental confinement but what lay on the other side of that door could be a far worse kind of hell than this one.
In his mind’s eye he watched the psychic doorway glowing with its fantastical eerie light. This was the only way out, the only way to safeguard his sanity and while he debated with the cautious part of his brain that tried to warn him of the dangers that lay beyond the door, Connor found himself gently pushing it open. This time, Connor had not apprehension about opening it. There could be something on the other side of his door but at that moment he really didn’t care.
The dull lifeless wasteland of the Afterlife spread out before him and without pausing he pictured his metaphysical self boldly stepping through into the realm of eternal damnation.
It was a form of astral projection, like playing a virtual reality game; a very real and very dangerous virtual reality game. The familiar haunting silence of the other world seemed to sing to him as he looked around at the barren wilderness. It was a sad and woeful melody that made him think of his grandmother and other loved ones he had lost. But the maudlin thoughts quickly evaporated as Connor took in the vast emptiness of the place.
Over here on this side of the veil Connor could move again and he took the opportunity to stretch out his faintly luminescent arms and spin around looking up at the pale sky overhead with a cathartic sense of freedom at escaping from his internment.
He needed to get going; it was unwise to stay in one place for too long. He had learned that a long time ago in his childhood nightmares. He wanted to find the man that had helped him get away from the demon last time. He wanted to find him and talk to him. There was so much, he had realised, that he didn’t understand about the Afterlife and now Grandmother Nnedinma was gone he had to find out as much about it as he could if he were to avoid the future that he was heading towards. Besides, he had never seen anyone running towards a demon before.
Connor pictured the solder that had helped him. As he imagined the sandy coloured army uniform and red beret he immediately felt himself flying forwards over the desolate rocks and unending boulder plains in this realm of lost souls.
The bleak hillsides faded past him, always grey and cheerless. Misery and loneliness pawed at his mind sapping his very life essence but compared to being imprisoned in that coma, this wasn’t so bad. The relentless funeral march of dull scenery eventually seemed to slow and Connor could see someone a few meters ahead of him. He was tall, not only tall but broad. The sleeves of his beige desert camouflage jacket were rolled up above the elbows displaying his muscular forearms. Connor couldn’t see his face he knew it was the same former soldier that had helped him before. Connor slowed his velocity with a mere thought.
“Yo!” he called approaching the other. “May I speak with you?”
The man stopped and turned to face him. As Connor walked over to him he saw his dusky chiselled features were creased with deep lines of middle age beneath the red beret he was wearing at an angle. His eyes, like twin black holes, regarded Connor with a stern gaze as he assessed whether Connor was a threat. A steel intensity shone behind those eyes. He carried a ferocious aggression kept in-check just beneath the surface.
“Connor True” the soldier said more to himself than by way of greeting. “You shouldn’t be here. This is no place for civilians or the living” His voice was as hard as stone.
“I know” Connor admitted, sheepishly and suddenly questioning the wisdom in coming back here.
“I anticipated your return” the soldier continued. “Your grandmother told me about you and appraised me of your situation”. He continued in clipped military tones, studying Connor closely.
“I didn’t get chance to say thank you before” Connor said, fidgeting slightly from the weight of his penetrating stare. Connor looked down at himself and saw the faint glow emanating from him and added. “This is because I’m not dead yet. My soul is still in the real world” Connor felt he should explain. In this world he was the ghost while the dead appeared solid and whole.
“It’s dangerous” said the other flatly. “It will attract the enemy and draw them to us. Can it be switched off or covered up?”
“No, I don’t think so not while I’m alive anyway” replied Connor knowing the risk the solider was taking just by being near him: His light was like a beacon to any and all demons which meant before long they would notice the light and be drawn to him.
“You’re grandmother asked me to help you” the solider said. “I know what’s coming for you and now your grandmother is gone there is nothing to stop the incursion from the enemy” the soldier reported matter-of-factly.
He looked Connor up and down again, still appraising him. Connor recognised the look from his own work with his dance crew, when he was trying to see if someone had the potential to perform a particular routine. He waited uncomfortably for the other to finish his assessment.
“You need to be ready for the demon when it comes and I can help you prepare”. He finally said with a grim air of someone who had seen combat up close and was duty-bound to return to the front line.
“Thank you but you know you don’t have to do this. I only came to thank you for helping me last time” Connor offered not wanting to endanger the other for his sake.
“I made a promise to your grandmother. Tell me something; you’re not a pacifist are you?” he asked almost spitting out the word as if it had a sour taste in his mouth.
Connor shook his head.
“Good”.
“Can I ask how you knew my grandmother
?”
“We found Nnedinma wandering. She had recently passed over and we invited her to join us” the soldier said briskly looking around into the distance as if expecting to see someone or something.
“Who are we? Are there others around here?”
“We,” began the soldier with an air of impatience. He looked and sounded like he was unused to people asking him questions. “… Are a group; a community. It is far safer to travel in this place in a group than on your own. In a group, you have the advantage of numbers. When the enemy comes there is more chance of evading the contact. Alone, you are isolated and will be picked off easily” he said turning and walking briskly away without waiting for Connor. “Come on, we need to keep moving”.
“Where is the rest of your group now?” he wondered hurrying to keep pace with the soldier as he strode off ahead.
“They are elsewhere while I do this job” he replied over his shoulder. “They don’t need to be here and I’ll re-join them again afterwards”.
“What’s your name?”
The other man paused and looked at him. A blank expression crossed his face for the briefest of moments as if was reaching back into his memories. “Captain Neil Blake” he said tersely after a second.
“You were in the military police?” Connor had said indicating his red beret.
“The
