Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds)

by Justus R. Stone

  “The soul is some kind of energy. It’s supposed to be what makes us who we are.”

  Pridament nodded. “Good. But you don’t believe any of it, right?”

  “Not really.” Gwynn shrugged. “Probably because I don’t follow any religion.”

  “The concept of the soul, or life energy, is widespread. There’s Chi, Atmas, Jeeva, Hun and Po, just to name a few. You’ll find that myths, legends, and even some religious ideas like a soul, have some basis in reality. Regarding the soul specifically, I can say it is true. Our physical forms contain the threads of an energy that is far greater and more powerful than our frail bodies can hold. The bulk of that energy lives within the Veil.”

  “The what?”

  Pridament shook his head. “So much to explain.” He rubbed his temples. “In this world, the Nazis lost World War Two. Can you imagine a world where they won?”

  “I don’t think I’d want to.”

  “Well, you don’t need to imagine it. Because a version of Earth exists where the Nazis did win. Just like there’s a version of Earth where the dinosaurs still rule the world. There are countless versions of Earth. Maybe as many as every choice any person ever made. The Veil is what keeps those different realities separate. The Veil is a realm of pure energy that we can’t see. The Veil is the seat of the soul, the energy of creation, and those symbols on your arm connect you to it like a plug in a socket.”

  Gwynn fell back in his chair. He ran his hands through the mess of brown he called hair. He let his fingers twist and pull at the strands. Could you feel pain in dreams? Would he have to tear his hair from its roots to wake up from the madness his life had become? Hell with this dream, nightmare, reality, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t sit and listen to babble when he had real problems to deal with.

  Pridament didn’t move. One minute, the man sat in his seat, the next he gripped Gwynn’s arm with such force that no amount of strength Gwynn possessed would break it.

  “You asked me for this.” Pridament hissed. “You will stay and hear me out.”

  Gwynn fell back into his chair. Blood and adrenaline pounded through his veins making his limbs tremble. His right arm throbbed. Tingling pinpricks crawled across his skin.

  Pridament nodded. “You’re reaching for it. The thing you don’t believe in, the crazy thing I’m talking about. Your head tells you I’m insane even as your body searches for that impossible power to break free. Tell me what happened in that old house on Halloween night. Explain to me what kind of explosion destroyed the roof without burning you or Sophia to cinders.”

  Gwynn’s mouth went dry. “How am I supposed to know?”

  Pridament’s grip tightened.

  “If you’re going to lie to me kid, you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

  The grip loosened, just enough that Gwynn breathed normally again.

  “Let’s try this a different way; just tell me what happened on Halloween?”

  “I went with Sophia and a bunch of people from school to the Old Cameron house.” A tremor of anger snaked down his spine. “Eric challenged someone to go in the house. He really meant the challenge for me, to make me look bad, like a coward. But Sophia went in instead.”

  “She must care about you.”

  “I don’t know how she feels about me. The only reason I was there was because of her.”

  What were the emotions in Pridament’s eyes? Shock? Concern? Gwynn couldn’t figure it out.

  “Sophia asked you to go?”

  Gwynn nodded. “I’ve thought that she was in on the whole thing, setting me up. Maybe she started to feel guilty about it and that’s why she went in instead. Only…”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure.” He recalled her face. So determined, her voice telling him she had to see it through to the end. “I can’t shake the feeling she knew all along she would go in. It’s like she planned it from the start. I wanted to ask her and get some answers. I don’t know if I’ll ever get them now.”

  Pridament released his grip on Gwynn and sighed.

  “After I saw you at the hospital, I went to see Sophia myself. She said some things that made sense to me. Problem is there’s no way she could’ve known those things. I think you’re right; Sophia had a plan for that night. I just have no idea what it was, or if it succeeded. So what happened after Sophia went into the house?”

  “I went in after her. I heard something upstairs, so I went up. Then I ended up in the attic.” Flashes of something human shaped, pain, and monstrous eyes. “Something attacked me. Probably the homeless man they said died.”

  Pridament tapped his finger on the table. “You weren’t attacked by just any ordinary homeless man, were you?”

  “I…” He resisted the words. If they left his lips, if he spoke the truth of his memories, it meant he’d gone insane. Because his memories said one thing—he saw a monster. But what if that was the truth? He had to know. “No. I thought that at first. But the way he spoke and how he threw me across the attic like I weighed nothing, he couldn’t have been just a man. Then I saw his eyes, and I knew. He was some kind of monster. I tried to find something to fight him. I thought I found something, but…”

  “You pressed your hand against something. Instinct told you to push harder. But when you did, something changed. You changed.”

  Gwynn stared at Pridament wide–eyed.

  “How did you know?”

  Pridament tapped his right forearm. “Told you, I’ve been there. While Anunnakis can draw on their soul for strength, our greatest power comes in tearing the Veil. It’s like giving yourself an energy boost. The first time you do it, it marks you. Hurts like hell too. But it’s dangerous. Stay connected to it too long, draw too much energy, you can lose yourself to it. Is that when the explosion happened?”

  “No. There was a… mirror. I felt pulled toward it. When I got close enough, I saw a whirlpool, or like, a black hole, inside. After I… tore the Veil, I touched the mirror and that’s when everything exploded.”

  “There must have been a natural tear already there. That explains the Taint.” Pridament took a sip of the coffee and made a face that said he had lied about the coffee being good. “A Taint is a normal person that’s been exposed to the raw energies of the Veil too long. Poor bastard was probably squatting in that house and never knew. Anunnaki can draw energy from the Veil, but even for us it can become toxic after a while. Normal humans have no resistance. It twists them, turns them into monsters. Almost every nasty thing of legend is from some poor soul turning to a Taint. But something more is happening. You said you’ve been seeing things and when you called it sounded like you were being attacked.”

  “I thought so.” Had that happened? He gave his head a shake. “I thought I was going to be. Ever since I woke up, I’ve been seeing things. That guy Eric, who set me up on Halloween. I smashed his nose in the middle of the school cafeteria before I even knew what I was doing. I keep seeing people change into… Taints, but they’re not. After a minute, they’re normal again. I don’t know whether I’m seeing the future, hallucinating, or just going crazy.”

  “Did you close the tear?”

  “What?” Anguish, or perhaps madness, choked the word.

  “When you tear the Veil, you must seal it. Like I said, tearing the Veil is like putting a plug in a socket. It keeps drawing power until you pull the plug.” Pridament went pale. “Odin’s eye, you’re still connected to it, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No, it makes perfect sense. It’s why you healed so quickly and why you’re seeing things. You’re not going crazy, or seeing the future. You’re seeing an alternate world. You’re seeing through the Veil.”

  Pridament stood and put his jacket on.

  “You and I need to get back to the Cameron house and you need to close that tear.”

  “What? Right now?”

  Pridament leaned close, his voice filled with an intensity that demanded obedience to any order
it issued.

  “Haven’t you been listening? If you don’t close that tear, you’ll cease to be human.”

  9/ Closets Never Stay Closed

  Jaime was pissed. Or maybe worried. She couldn’t decide, so had settled to be both.

  Despite his assurances, Gwynn had yet to contact her. She tried his cell several times. When he failed to pick up on the fifth try, she left work. No matter how much she tried to tell herself he just had no reception in the hospital, she couldn’t believe he was still there five hours later. Jaimie leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen and tried his cell again. From her vantage point, she saw down the hall to the front door. Maybe his battery died. She counted the rings; one, two, three, four and then the click as a computerized voice told her she could leave a message. Jaimie tried to calm her voice.

  “Gwynn, it’s me. I’m at home. Please call me when you get this message, thanks.”

  She replaced the wireless in its cradle on the wall and sat at the table. A mug with cold tea sat there. She had made it, thinking to calm her nerves. Instead, her hand shook so bad she splashed the hot tea on herself. Several curses and rinses of cold water over her hand later, the tea was in serious danger of going down the drain. Yet it still sat on the table, a remaining question—would she drink it, or dump it? Would it stay, or go? Its surface clouded over with the dash of milk she had added. It brought back the time nine years ago, when a similar decision felt so cloudy.

  The doorbell sounded. Deep in memories and thoughts better left buried, the bell sounded foreign, something odd that she initially didn’t understand. It took a second sound of the bell to register what she should do in response.

  The front door’s decorative glass obscured the person on the other side. When Jaimie opened the door, her heart fell.

  “Hello Jaimie.”

  She hadn’t seen him in five years. Then, she had hoped she would never see him again.

  “You don’t look happy to see me.”

  Her stomach churned. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Are you ever?” he asked, his bushy brown eyebrow raised, his mouth curved in a cruel half–smile.

  “What do you want?”

  “Now, now Jaimie. Why the hostility? After all, haven’t we delivered on everything we promised?”

  She hated to admit the answer—yes, they had. Guilt clung to her soul like filth. Here stood the devil she had bargained a soul for. Every time he visited, she wondered if he had come to collect.

  The man cleared his throat. “In any case, I’m just here to ask a small favor. Nothing too much, I promise.”

  “What is it?”

  “Gwynn is going through some…changes. I need you to understand. I need you to allow the boy some space. He’ll want to go out more, meet up with people you don’t know. You need to trust him and let him do as he asks.”

  Jaimie anger welled up, filling her chest to bursting. “Just who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just show up and tell me how to parent Gwynn?”

  The man held his hands up in defense. “No one is telling you how to parent Gwynn. No one is questioning the job you’ve done so far. After all, you brought a boy, shattered by tragedy, and turned him into a successful young man. But I don’t think Gwynn is going to know how to talk to you about what he’s going through. I want him to be able to do what he needs without damaging the relationship the two of you have.”

  “So what? Now you’re Doctor–Fucking–Phil, here to save our relationship?”

  “I’m just saying the boy might act more secretive. He might not act his usual self, and I don’t want you to worry he’s doing drugs or anything illicit.”

  “Then what is happening?” Her voice elevated in a pleading edge. She hated appearing weak in front of this man.

  “When the time is right, he’ll tell you.”

  She opened her mouth to say more, to press for answers, but the man held up his hand.

  “He is the one who should tell you Jaimie, leave it at that.”

  Jaimie bit into her lip, afraid to ask the next question—knowing she must. “And when will you show up to collect on what’s due?”

  The man smiled. “There will be no need to collect anything. In the end, Gwynn will come to us.”

  10/ The Man on the Other Side of the World

  Gwynn barely noticed the world passing by out the car window. The last time he travelled to the Cameron house, Sophia sat beside him. Now, not even two weeks later, she’d gone insane and he’d become some sort of freak. The man in the seat next to him remained quiet. He should be asking more questions. Hadn’t he wanted to know more? Hadn’t that been why he called Pridament?

  No. He had called out of fear. Having seen Sophia, alone and mad, he worried he would go the same way. Maybe Pridament could validate his experience. Maybe he wasn’t insane and there was a logical explanation.

  But Pridament had opened more doors than he had closed. His explanations led to more confusion. In trying to convince Gwynn of the noble and powerful origins of his experiences, he had overloaded him. Now he just couldn’t make himself feel that interested.

  When his parents died, it taught him things just happen. Although Pridament seemed to think some act of fate existed, Gwynn couldn’t see it. Life consisted of a series of accidents. Patterns appeared because people searched for them—a vain hope that it all served some purpose. What happened to him was just the universe having another brain fart. Just another random complication to shove in a dark place and forget.

  Pridament shattered the silence. “What does the sky look like to you?”

  Gwynn peered out the window. “Grey, overcast.” His head pounded. Staring up at the sky made it worse.

  “Mhmm” Pridament responded.

  They were reaching the outskirts of town, crossing Gwynn’s imaginary line between the concrete realm and the realm of nature. In the concrete world, things made sense. Man forced his will on the world and broke it into order. Out here, beyond the control of steel and cement, things were wilder. Had he seen beauty in it once? Just several days ago, as they passed into it, had he not considered it a bad thing that the cement should push further? Yes, but the Cameron house taught him, just as a dark country road nine years earlier, nature should not to be trusted—could humans and their unfeeling manufactured stone? No, but people were far more predictable.

  They turned down the country road. As they neared the house Gwynn’s headache and the throbbing in his arm intensified.

  “Shiiiit.”

  “Getting worse?” Pridament asked.

  “Yes.” Gwynn grit his teeth and drew breath in short gasps.

  “It’s because you’re getting closer to the source. All Anunnakis feel some discomfort when we’re near a tear in the Veil, but because this one has been leaching onto you so long, you’re far more susceptible.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just get this done.”

  The car stopped and Gwynn lurched out. His stomach convulsed and the meager contents of his stomach met the ground with a splash. Pridament patted him on the back.

  “Thanks for waiting until you got out of the car, kid.”

  “Piss off.”

  Pridament laughed and walked toward the house. Yellow police tape now decorated the perimeter of the property. Despite the place’s infamous reputation that brought thrill seekers, the tape appeared undisturbed. Ironic that after all these years, something had finally happened to validate the house’s reputation, and now people stayed away.

  Pridament pointed toward the boarded up front window. “That how you went in the first time?”

  Gwynn nodded.

  “The door wouldn’t open?”

  “That’s right.”

  Pridament walked up to the front of the house and threw open the front door with a flourish. “Appears we get to do things the easy way today.”

  Gwynn stumbled up the walk. “Show off.”

  The two stepped over the threshold.

  The w
orld lurched to Gwynn’s right and then left. His stomach knotted, but refused to let go of anything. He fell. Pridament grabbed him by the arm. “Gwynn, are you all right?”

  Gwynn did his best to nod.

  “Take it easy kid. Something happened when we entered the house. I felt it too.”

  Gwynn took a moment to survey the house. “This isn’t right.”

  The house had changed. In areas where years of decay and neglect had been obvious, the walls stood with fresh paint. The stairs gleamed in a dark cherry hardwood. A sound from upstairs grabbed Gwynn’s attention. He braced himself for a Taint. Instead, a man who walked across the upstairs landing. Tall, well dressed and groomed, he lacked certain solidity. Gwynn opened his mouth to speak, but Pridament clamped his hand over it. The ghostly figure descended the stairs and walked into one of the adjoining rooms.

  Pridament held a finger to his mouth. He released it and spoke—his voice barely a whisper. “This is very bad. Another world is bleeding through.”

  “That’s what I’ve been seeing the past few days.”

  Pridament shook his head. “That’s because you’re still wired into the Veil. I shouldn’t be seeing anything out of the ordinary. If I’m seeing it, it means the worlds are starting to bleed together.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain it later. We need to get that tear sealed, quick. But be quiet.”

  “Why?”

  Pridament sighed. “Right now, the bleed is still early. The man in the other world is ignoring us. If we draw his attention, he’ll come through the tear into this world. Remember how energy from the Veil changes people?”

  Gwynn nodded.

  “Imagine what happens to someone who gets dragged through it. That person becomes a Full Incursive, a Curse. Taints are bad, but they retain some humanity. A Curse, they’re nothing but horror.”

  Even in a hushed whisper, the fear and pity were obvious in Pridament’s voice. Gwynn thought of the feline eyes and deformed fangs of the squatter he had faced in the attic. That man had just been in the same house. What sort of changes would happen to a person dragged through the Veil’s energies? He didn’t want to find out.