Unreal City

by A. R. Meyering

  “This is a prison,” he said, lips trembling.

  “But you have whatever you want, you have—” I looked around to find a word to classify this bizarre sanctuary, “full access to all the knowledge you could ever want.”

  “I am trapped by my unending desire. I return here whenever possible, spending an eternity turning through pages upon pages. I could devise better ways of getting it into my head, but I choose not to. It’s just too painfully satisfying the way it is. I’ve read every book on the floors below me and I can’t stop now. Not until I reach the top. My life on the other side is a nightmare. This is my only stable reality,” he rasped, his expression desperate. “And do you know the worst thoughts that come to me now? The ones that stab me in my brief moments of clarity?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “This has only been in my head. I know this library isn’t limited by my own knowledge, but I’m not even sure if any of what I’ve been reading is accurate to reality. I’m too afraid to even find out. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since I came here—” he stopped himself abruptly and put his hand delicately over his mouth, as if he’d been acting indecently and only just realized. “I apologize, miss. It’s just... It’s been so long since anyone’s been here, so long since I’ve talked to anyone, or told anybody about this—I lost myself momentarily. Forgive me.”

  I almost got up to leave at that moment, but I was greedy for more knowledge. Or maybe I just figured that I’d rather face the risk of getting trapped inside this sad, shattered man’s darkest dreams than get trapped inside my own. He regained his composure, but still cleared his throat several times.

  “Listen to me carefully. They hunt the ones who are tempted the most by their offer. They wait in places where deep energy once flowed. It sustains them until they find their prey, and then they strike. The things that this world can create are wonderful, but it will forever alter your connection with the reality we were born into, and do not think for a moment that you will be able to overcome it. I have seen people make it work for them. Angus is one of the stronger ones, I think because he was so young when he first came here, it became a part of his development. But this City is not to be toyed with. Think before you give him blood, and if you can resist—if you can go forward and live your life and abandon the eternal aching remembrance of something that pushed the boundaries of sensory wonder, you will have won. But once he goes away, he will be gone for all time,” Arthur warned.

  “Thank you. Thank you for telling me,” I breathed. Our eyes connected for a moment and the longer I grew used to his beautiful mask, the sicker my stomach felt. I was forgetting his true appearance. It was working.

  “I fear I cannot tell you anything about the strange events that have befallen you and though I doubt that—” he stopped and his eyebrows lifted as if something had just occurred to him. “Wait...I wonder.” Arthur snapped his fingers and Grimoire lifted upward. “Take me back to my three last memories of Charles Poe,” he commanded his familiar. His eyes glazed as he stared at the pages of the book, the muscles in his face growing lax. Grimoire’s pages continued to blow by like an endless flipbook and he stayed in that state for some time. I wondered if I shouldn’t just get up and leave while he was still hypnotized, but remained fidgeting in my seat until he came back.

  “What happened?” I asked him when he finally blinked.

  “I was only just revisiting a few memories to confirm something,” he told me, “and my guess was correct. Another one of the Cunning Folk, a man called Charles Poe, inhabitant of the eighth garden, mentioned something similar to your circumstances the last time he came here. He came to me in a panic, saying people were dying around him, that he felt something was chasing him—but I wouldn’t take anything he says too seriously. He’s deeply disturbed. Insane.”

  I remembered that name from earlier—Poe. Angus had warned me to stay away from his garden at all costs, and now I supposed I knew why. No matter how you looked at it, wandering through the violent manifestation of a broken mind would be dangerous. I wanted desperately to know what was happening around me—whether I was in danger of losing my life or if the reason my sister had been robbed of hers had been more than a random act of depravity. However, as I sat there intimidated by this husk of a man, I searched inward for the line where courage ended and recklessness began.

  “I think I can use that. You’ve done me a favor, Arthur. You have my thanks,” I told him, standing up.

  A look of sorrow crossed his face and he jumped to his feet. “Going so soon?” he asked, taking my arm and gently tugging me back down. I resisted him.

  “Y-yeah, I’ve got stuff to do. Sorry,” I shrugged, and his face sagged.

  “Please, miss, won’t you join me for a while longer? I’d like to talk with you more, just a little conversation. I—I can create something wonderful for you, a warm drink, perhaps? A lovely view of the ocean for us to watch? I’d so love to tell you about all the marvelous things I’ve learned in my time here in the library. I think you might be interested. You might even find them helpful,” he entreated. If he hadn’t frightened me, I would have found him pathetic.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to go.”

  “But you will come back soon, won’t you? You will come visit again?” he clutched at his chest, not bothering to hide his willfulness. The look in his eyes almost broke my heart.

  “I will. If I decide to come back to this City at all, that is,” I told him firmly, and I wanted to mean it. “Thank you again.”

  He called goodbyes after me for as long as he could.

  AS WE EXITED the tower and walked into the grey courtyard outside, I found it hard to speak to Felix.

  “How come you never told me any of that stuff before? About the blood?” I asked at last, and he smiled back unflinchingly.

  “You never asked,” he said, much as a child would answer the same question. “I can’t tell you anything unless you ask.”

  “Right,” I snapped. I was pretty sure he had already proven he possessed enough liberty to bend that rule and warn me. Sensing his stubbornness, I gave up and decided to take us home, but my thoughts would not become reality. Then I remembered I had no power in other people’s gardens.

  “So how do I get out of here without disturbing the others if I can’t fly?”

  “You can only run. Or I can run for you,” he offered. When I cocked my head, nonplussed, he grew still and a look of concentration came over his face. At once he grew in size, stretching taller, but retaining almost the same girth. As his legs began to grow freakishly long and skinny, he prompted me to climb atop his back before he became too tall for me to reach.

  I did, gripping his cylindrical midsection, no wider than a foot across, as we rose higher into the air. His head was so far away from me he had to bend backward to inform me we were about to move. I curled my arms and legs around him, feeling his stretched spine bump and jostle me as we set into motion, his feet nearly a hundred feet below.

  To watch him move was like something out of the most surreal of dreams, but I was more concerned with not falling off. Felix’s speed increased with every step, and within a minute we were tearing through the gardens at a pace that would’ve made my eyes stream in reality. In the middle of our jaunt, I was surprised to encounter another man, grizzled and wearing a long coat, riding in the opposite direction. Our eyes met and in the second I got to look at him, I saw he rode a familiar that looked like a filthy old kelpie. He shot past us as the horse-like spirit pierced through the air and disappeared.

  Within minutes we were back in my garden. The feeling of all-powerfulness returned to me and I was comforted. Felix collapsed back to his normal length with a popping and snapping of his bones and a mad rolling of his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was in pain or not, and frankly I was a little too put-off to ask.

  Back to his normal size, he looked to me for direction. “Now what shall we do, Sarah? Should we play like we did before? We could explore undergro
und caverns, or swim under the ocean until we find the very bottom, or perhaps catch fireflies, or—”

  “No…this time I want to try something a little different.” Now that the moment was here, I felt stiff, trying to remember why I’d wanted this at all. It would just bring back all the terrible feelings, rip them through the wound that I’d been trying my best to sew shut every day. But the desire to see her again—to talk to her, even if it wasn’t really her—I couldn’t resist the temptation. A photo of her wasn’t enough. My memories weren’t enough. A huge part of my life had been torn away from me, and it wasn’t fair. And why should I even try to play fair with a fate that was this cruel? I took a breath and prepared to summon her from the Earth.

  I focused all my energy into the soil beneath my feet. Before my eyes the autumnal scene blew away as if by a great gust of wind, and in its place sprouted up a green forest. Vines curled, wildflowers blossomed, towering pines creaked, and moss spread out beneath my feet like a carpet. The longer I focused, pouring out all my love and longing and memories of her life, the hotter the energy around me grew. It was curling around, growing larger and healthier from the nutrients in the soil and the green world above it. The longer I poured that light energy into the ground, the weaker I began to feel. When I could no longer expend anything more, I stumbled back. I panted, feeling everything that I remembered about my sister pulsing in the ground before me, incubating with every beat of its artificial heart.

  At once I regretted my choice, and turned back to face Felix. He must have known what I was doing, and I wondered if it would amuse him—but nervousness had replaced his glimmering smile. Burning eyes were fixed on the ground where Lea was, which had begun pulsating gently. He turned toward me, defeat in his eyes.

  “Sarah, why did you do this?” he lamented, sounding broken-hearted.

  “I just wanted to see her again!” I cried.

  In response Felix hunched to the ground, resting his head on his paws as a look of deep sadness passed over his too-human face. He shut his eyes and remained there, still as stone.

  Before I could object to his leaving me to deal with this uncertain situation on my own, the ground behind me began to rumble. I turned just in time to see it split apart as a head of blonde hair rose, speckled with fragments of dirt and roots. She came up from the earth, straight backed and smiling, dressed in the clothes I’d last seen her in. Her eyes were there, Lea’s eyes—the ones that looked just like mine, except with her own unique softness behind them.

  I let out a wail, a desperate mixture of anguish and joy. I’d forgotten how beautiful she was—how healthy and put-together she’d always looked. I stumbled forward when, at last, she had completely risen out of the ground and stood upon her mound of disturbed soil. She was serene, silent, a delicate and unassuming smile on her lips.

  “Lea. Lea, say something to me,” I begged, resisting the urge to leap forward and take her into my arms.

  “Sarah, I missed you.”

  I ran forward then and pulled her into a tight embrace. It was all there: the smell of the shampoo she always used, the length and texture of her hair, her bony shoulders. She was back with me, she was safe. I could see her again and touch her. We could laugh together again and the raw, aching pain that up until now had never let me rest would be nothing but an unpleasant memory. This would become the real world and that other terrible place would be the nightmare that I only visited briefly to keep my body alive and pay the price for my unending bliss.

  “Oh God, Lea. Lea it’s you. You’re back with me. You can’t ever go again. You don’t know what it’s been like without you,” I murmured into her shoulder, laying my head upon her collarbone. I felt her wrap her arms around my waist and hold tight, but there was something mechanical in her response.

  I opened my streaming eyes, my heart feeling like someone was twisting it around until all the muscles threatened to fall apart with the tension. I leaned deeper into her and felt the solidness of her chest give way a little. I let go at once and drew back in horror, spotting a crushed depression where my head had been.

  “Lea!” I wailed, wanting to reach out for her again, but afraid my grip might crush more of her.

  Her expression never changed. She was still calm and smiling, but as I watched her, more of her flesh collapsed inward. Her cheeks sunk in, her bones crumpled forward, and the skin around her neck began to shrivel up.

  I could hear myself screaming as I fell to my knees. The black, filthy yellow of necrosis crawled across her as she continued to implode. Her blue eyes were eaten by rot for minute after excruciating minutes, until she had become nothing but a clean, pearly skeleton continuing to stand upright before me.

  I howled as I cowered on the ground, unable to tear my eyes from the odious sight. As her bones stood poised, the plants around her feet began to stir. Rapidly they snaked and curled around the bones, reaching up to claim her. A tree sprouted from below, pushing her skeleton upward. In seconds she was cocooned inside of the hollowed tree trunk, just a pillar lifting into the air, draped in soil, bark, vines, leaves, grass, and flowers. The lichens and spongy moss attached themselves to her bones and grew around Lea’s cleaned corpse, until she had become part of the plant system of my garden. Yet the human shape remained visible as the tree grew only a few feet higher than me. Out of her eye sockets grew two white flowers, and even then I felt as if she were watching me.

  I lay upon the mossy ground, sobbing, and the plants grew over my body too, curling around my wrists and through my hair. Flowers fluttered up around my couch of damp flora. Peering through my tears, I could see Felix had gone. I couldn’t feel him anywhere, so I lay back on the ground and let myself weep until my senses were almost numb. I couldn’t remember when it started happening, but all too late I became aware that the plants were pulling me downward into the plot of churned soil from where the artificial Lea had quickened. I screamed, trying to fight the plant life, but it had grown too tightly around me. I was going into the ground whether I wanted to or not.

  I shut my eyes and willed it to stop, to have my garden return to my absolute control, but it would not obey. My feet went under first, and not even the most violent of kicks would slow that downward pull. I was hiccoughing now, trying to claw my way out of the sinking hole, but my fingers only tore through soft soil. I rolled onto my stomach as the vines curled around my torso, and felt my shoulders get swallowed by the ground. The light was starting to fade. There was dirt in my throat, choking me, stinging my eyes and worming its way into my ears. I was being buried alive, going deeper by the minute, and feeling my heart thunder inside of me against the oppressive, smashing force of the earth. Weight pressed in from all sides and I lost the ability to breathe or see. I was suspended, frozen and suffocating in the blackness of this subterranean trap. The voice of Arthur reverberated around in my skull.

  This is a prison.

  I wanted to scream, I wanted to fight, but my throat was blocked up with dirt. I was suffocating, feeling every jagged, throbbing pain, but I knew I couldn’t die down here. Roots were crawling around me now, attaching to my skin and sapping my blood. A root pushed through the ground and pierced right into my chest and stomach, branching out and growing into my body’s systems and pathways. Below me, I could feel something pulsing and beating—that same life energy. There was another world below the surface, and I could sense it was filled with things that pushed the boundaries of what a human mind could comprehend. And it was pulling me inward, hungry, wanting to assimilate my energy as a part of it. I was being slowly eaten by Unreal City.

  At that moment, my panic and agony and frustration reached a screaming crescendo and power swelled within my chest. With a mighty push, I reached deep within the well of my own thoughts and found a memory of quiet. This world was mine. I was in control. If it was swallowing me and trying to ingest my essence, it was a monster within me that was trying to accomplish this. If I had created that monster, however subconsciously, I still retained mast
ery over it. With mighty force I pulled my hand away from its pathetic reach for the surface, cut through the earth as if it were mere gel, and grabbed onto my necklace.

  As soon as my fingers touched the metal, I felt a bolt of electricity shoot through my body. The darkness that surrounded me shattered like glass. A light brighter than anything that should be perceived by human eyes blew past me—as if it were energy from the source of Unreal City: the luminescence of pure creation. It disintegrated the soil inside of me, burning away the roots as I became flooded by its rushing force. My awareness melted away into oblivion.

  I AWOKE IN my bed, my chest heaving and my body drenched in sweat. A harried glance out the window told me it was a little past dawn. I mopped my brow with the back of my hand and saw Felix staring at me from the corner of the room. His trademark grin, however, was still not present.

  “You—” I gasped, heavy with the memories of being packed into the ground of Unreal City. “You left me there. How could you leave me?”

  “I never left you, Sarah,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “You sent me away.”

  I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. I dragged myself out of bed and down the bunk ladder. The screen of my laptop glowed with a slideshow of photos, many of them containing Lea. I closed the lid, the sight bringing back vivid memories of her flesh rotting away before my eyes.

  I didn’t have time to process what had happened up there—down there? Over there? Where is the City?—before the ringing in my ears began once more, so shrill I collapsed on the bottom bunk, clutching my head in agony. The ringing persisted.