Harbinger Island

by Dorian Dawes

  Warden spoke slowly, leering forwards with a cruel grin. "Justin is important to you. You see yourself in him - misunderstood, cast out, treated with aversion and bigotry. You give him the love that nobody ever gave you and his happiness is your reward, knowing that someone else doesn't have to suffer alone the way you did."

  The gun quivered in Bartleby's hands. The rafters overhead were shaking and the visions were flashing back to him as the barn grew darker and darker. He saw flashes of the bloody servant hanging from the roof, her mouth frozen in a twisted grin. She held her eyeballs in her own hands.

  Warden backed slowly into the shadows. His voice echoed off the walls, joining the chorus of mournful spirits. "The truth is out there and it wants to eat your boy. I've seen what you're like when you really care about something. You're a sick fuck, but you get shit done and I need that."

  Bartleby fell to his knees clutching the sides of his head as the door closed behind him, leaving him in total darkness. He could hear every scream, every tortured cry. Bartleby added his own agonized wails to the horrible din.

  Silence. A hand rested on his shoulder. Bartleby opened his eyes to see the Warden standing beside him. He was holding an old rusted scythe and smirking to himself.

  "It's the murder weapon," Warden whispered. "Touch it. Use your powers to solve the mystery."

  Bartleby cautiously reached for the weapon. He was sweating visibly. Fear gripped him in a moment of hesitation right before his fingers lightly brushed against the tip of the blade. Finally, he grabbed it from the Warden and held it tightly, closing his eyes.

  "For Justin," he whispered.

  What he saw sent him into a quivering state. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and the scythe fell from his fingers. Blood poured out of his nostrils. Even his gums bled. He collapsed to the ground in a cold sweat as the vision played itself out before him over and over again.

  Bartleby easily recognized the face of the Hendraick Farm murderer. He'd seen it briefly that morning in Justin's apartment, a beautiful smiling lad with brown skin and golden eyes. It was not the vision of the boy that sent him into his epileptic state, but rather the aura pulsating from him. For a brief second, Bartleby beheld the creature's true form. The sketches scrawled out haphazardly in ancient tomes did not do it justice. Merely glimpsing a fleeting vision of the incomprehensible entity nearly killed him then and there.

  "It's following him," Bartleby managed to choke out. He coughed, spitting blood against the ground. "The Crawling Chaos is here in Wakefield."

  Warden threw open the barn door. He lit a cigarette and looked out over the woods. The university could be seen in the distance. He turned to Bartleby.

  "As I thought, the son of Avaroth took the bait," he said. "I'll be in touch. Have you ever been to Oakridge? Lovely town not far from here. They keep records on everything."

  Warden walked off, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

  For Bartleby, it was almost a relief when everything finally went black. There were several seconds of blissful darkness before the visions returned, and he saw a bleak vista of black slime and towering monoliths rising from the sludge before him. The din of pipes and drums was maddening.

  * * *

  Helena had been sleeping when Justin called her. His voice was low and quiet. He sounded as if he'd been crying. Helena jolted out of bed immediately.

  "Hey, what's up?" she asked, rushing over to her dresser for a pair of jeans.

  "Um, mind if I stay with you for the night? I can't really stay here right now."

  "Not at all. Need me to pick you up?" she asked.

  He was silent.

  She pressed again. "Justin, is everything all right?"

  "I'm scared. Please, come get me," he said after several moments.

  She could hear him struggling to breathe. He was still crying.

  "I'm on my way, what's going on?"

  "Just come get me," he said again. "I don't want to be alone."

  Helena raced to her car and sped out the driveway. "Hang on. I'm coming. It's going to be okay. I've got you. You're not alone."

  She kept him on the phone the entire drive over. She wouldn't abandon him.

  The sight of the cops around the school only temporarily distracted her. She might have otherwise been unsettled by how common it had become to see police tape outside a dormitory. Her primary concern was getting to Justin.

  They'd barely gotten to him last time. He'd been standing at the edge of the road, waiting to leap into the path of an oncoming vehicle. She cried and yelled at him while clutching him close. Helena couldn't go through that again. If he needed her to drop everything so he had someone to anchor him to this world, she'd do it. He'd do the same for her.

  His door was open. She hurried to it, hanging up the phone. He was crouched on the floor in front of the bathroom with his knees clutched to his chest. His eyes were red and bleary.

  "Hey." Helena stepped into the room. "You ready to go?"

  "I haven't packed," he murmured.

  She nodded. "Right, well, just stay there. I got ya. Still got the backpack in the closet?"

  "Yeah."

  "Great, this should be easy. How many nights you want to stay?"

  "Don't know."

  She threw the backpack onto the bed and began rummaging around in his drawer. "All right, then let's pack for a week and if you need more stuff we can always drive back up here. Mom and the boys are going to be gone this week anyway, visiting Grandma out of state, so we'll have the house to ourselves. Want Kara to come over?"

  "I'd like that."

  "Great, it'll be a big sleepover with the band."

  "Helena?"

  "Hmm."

  He looked tearful. "Thanks."

  She smiled. "Hang in there, all right?"

  "Professor Bartleby said I'd be safe with you, said you could protect me …" he trailed off. "Is that true?"

  Helena's hands froze over the clothes. She slowly turned to face Justin, eyes wide. She'd been going to Bartleby with questions about her magic for the past year, ever since the butterflies had been coming to her. He'd helped her identify them as familiars and her growing powers as a witch. Justin couldn't have known that.

  "What am I protecting you from?" her voice cracked.

  She spent the next several minutes attempting to contact Bartleby on her phone. He wasn't answering. Justin sat on the edge of the bed, looking like he wanted to crawl into a ball and hide or die - possibly both.

  "I'm really sorry about this," he said after her fifth attempt. "I shouldn't have called."

  "No, you definitely should have." Helena was fucking livid. "You did the right thing. The irresponsible one is our esteemed professor. He never mentioned a fucking cult to me, you'd think that'd be something he would have brought up. 'You have magic. By the way, there is an evil cult on this island and they want to KILL EVERYBODY.'"

  "You're taking this well."

  "Only 'cause I'm pissed, and once I stop being pissed I'm going to shit every pair of pants that I own. Holy apples and banana peels, are we fucked." She finished tossing a bunch of clothes into his backpack and zipped it up. "This is gonna have to do. Come on, we gotta get Kara. Maybe she's still got that baseball bat with the nails in it."

  "Don't you have magic?" Justin grabbed his bag and followed closely behind.

  She stormed out of the dorm. "I'm still learning this shit. I can't fight off a fucking cult!"

  Justin grimaced. "You're right. We're fucked."

  "If Professor Bartleby isn't dead," Helena muttered as they ran to her car, "I'm killing him."

  They drove for a few minutes in silence. Helena would swear under her breath as she tried calling Bartleby's cell a few more times with no success. Justin stared out the window, clutching the backpack close to his chest.

  "I think I know why he didn't tell us about the cult," Justin said after a while. "Bartleby, I mean."

  "Cause he's a piece of shit?" Helena said.


  Justin shook his head. "I don't think he'd willingly put us in danger like that. Maybe he was just trying to protect us from it."

  Helena looked at him, her expression softening. "Do you think he's okay?"

  "He said he was going to go look into the heart of darkness," Justin said. "Probably not."

  She bit her lip and looked back to the road. They were approaching Kara's house now. She parked in the driveway and placed a hand over her mouth, contemplating.

  "So looks like we have two options," she said. "We can avoid being the protagonists of a horror movie, skip town before the cult or anyone has any idea what's going on and come back when this blows over."

  Justin nodded. "Or we could do something really stupid and look for the professor."

  Helena gave him a sour look. "You're right. That would be stupid."

  Kara waltzed out the house, wearing a cropped leather jacket and a black sundress and her signature biker boots. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a gnarly-looking baseball bat with rusted nails jutting out from it; something she'd made for a World of Darkness LARP she'd been a part of some years ago.

  "Never knew when this would come in handy again," she said, throwing her suitcase into the back seat.

  "You look ready to go to war," Helena said in a resigned tone.

  "And you're not?" Kara plopped her ass down directly behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I've no idea what to expect, but I don't plan on letting anyone break up this band."

  Helena lowered her eyes. "That's something Professor Bartleby would say."

  Kara raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

  "Okay, not in those words exactly. He'd put it into that gravely serious tone of his that makes it sound like the world's about to end any second, but you get what I'm saying!" Helena snapped. "He'd help us, any of us, if we needed him."

  Justin forced himself to smile. "That mean we're going to look for him?"

  Helena sighed. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a slip of paper. Justin and Kara looked on as she held it over her head and chanted a memorized incantation under her breath. Her butterfly familiars detached themselves from her ears and flew in a semi-circle around the paper before zipping off ahead of the car.

  "Locator spell," she explained, pressing her foot against the gas pedal. "Follow the butterflies, they'll take us to our professor."

  "I should punch you, ya know," Kara said. "You being the resident witch-bitch and not telling us."

  Helena rolled her eyes. "If we live through this, you are free to yell and punch all you like."

  * * *

  Bartleby opened his eyes. He was lying face-down on the ground right outside the barn. The sun was closing in on its twilight hours, darkening the skies in shades of amber and gold. A car pulled to a screeching halt several feet away from the barn. He heard a chorus of youthful voices and then there were three pairs of black boots crowding around him. He groaned as they helped him to his feet.

  "Professor, what happened?" Justin placed a hand on his shoulder to try and steady him.

  "You shouldn't be here," Bartleby groaned.

  Helena snapped her fingers urgently. "All right, come on, let's get him to the car."

  They were halfway to Helena's car when another vehicle came screaming out of the woods, smashing into it. They barely had the time to dive out the way. It had been coming straight for them. Two more came rushing around to block all exits off the farm. Bartleby looked up, his face filled with horror.

  "Quickly, help me over to the barn," he called out. "Helena, provide us some cover!"

  "On it," she said, raising her hands out on either side of her.

  Justin and Kara carried their weary professor closer to the barn while black-robed figures exited the cars and began their approach. Helena closed her eyes, chanting under her breath. Black smoke emerged from her fingertips. She swirled her arms through the air, creating a cloud of black mist that surrounded her, covering the field and obscuring all vision. She ran to rejoin the others as soon as the spell was cast. A few gunshots rang out, but all vanished into the impenetrable mist.

  Once inside the barn, Bartleby motioned for Kara to close the door behind Helena. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the psychic emanations from the vengeful spirits. He swept aside a large portion of dirt to create an empty space along the floorboards. He fingered around in his coat pocket for a piece of blue chalk.

  "Stand guard and don't let anyone interrupt me, this may take some time," he whispered.

  Outside, they could hear low droning noises, a chorus of eerie chants. Justin closed his eyes. He was sweating heavily and his head had started to pound. Kara stood by the door holding the bat tightly in her fingers. She made a motion for Helena to go check on Justin.

  Helena nodded. She rushed over to where Justin was sitting at the base of a set of stairs leading into the barn's loft. He held his hands in front of his face while his whole body shook. She reached out to touch him, then recoiled immediately, eyes wide.

  "Christ, your skin is like ice!" she yelped.

  "They're doing something to me," Justin whispered. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

  Helena felt alarms running all through her. "Professor!"

  Bartleby ignored her. He was chanting quietly under his breath, crouched low as he drew a large symbol in the cleared area with the chalk. Sweat caused his garments to cling to his body as he began drawing stars and runes from ancient texts he'd long ago committed to memory.

  Kara jumped back from the door as it gave a violent shake. The chanting outside had grown louder; low, groaning moans in the same guttural voice and language. There was another loud thump as something heavy shoved against the door. Kara almost shrieked when the edge of the door began sliding outwards, revealing a crack; a set of fingers curled around the edge of the door and started to push it open.

  "Kara! Don't let them in!" Bartleby shouted.

  Justin pushed Helena aside and doubled over. He began vomiting along the floor. Thick black slime spewed from his mouth. Helena backed away, clasping her hands against her mouth. He looked at her, face haggard and eyes drooping; the edges of his mouth were covered with the awful filth. Helena glanced at the ground. There were things lurking in the pile of his sick that squirmed and slithered.

  "What's happening to me?" Justin groaned weakly.

  Helena called to Bartleby again, this time more desperately. "Professor!"

  "In a moment!" he yelled. He was running out of chalk, and out of time. Bartleby picked up his chanting, feverishly scribbling along the edges, all the while praying inwardly that this would work.

  Kara grabbed the door and slammed it closed. She heard someone scream on the other side as their fingers were pinched in the door. She wasn't weak, she could out bench-press most guys in town, but she couldn't deal with how many there were on the other side, working against her. The door was opening whether she wanted it to or not. All she could do was buy them time.

  "Justin …"

  Someone was calling his name. He turned around slowly to see Pharaoh standing at the back of the barn. He was smiling sweetly, one hand stretched out to meet him.

  "I hate seeing you like this," Pharaoh said softly. "I never wanted you to suffer."

  Helena watched as Justin's gaze fixed on nothing. She couldn't hear or see the thing whispering in his ear. The chanting had grown even louder as the door was being slowly pushed open, despite Kara's best efforts. Justin gave a heavy cough and more of the black stuff spilled down his chin and soaked his shirt.

  "Justin! Come on! Stay with me!" she yelled, shaking him.

  Bartleby stood. "Everyone come to the circle and stand with me."

  He dropped the last bit of chalk to the ground. A small puff of smoke whiffed over the ground where he threw it. A fully-formed protective circle had been drawn beneath his feet.

  Helena dragged Justin over. Kara grabbed her bat and raced to join them just as the barn door was forced open.

/>   Bartleby shouted out several words in an unknown tongue. His voice echoed off the walls of the barn. There were only six figures in robes outside, but they were joined by a throng of shambling corpses: undead summoned to aid them. The cultists outside continued their chanting, hands locked, repeating their ominous guttural phrases while their minions in tattered clothes stumbled forwards.

  When the doors opened, Justin lurched forwards and screamed. A sharp pain had settled in his gut and it reacted every time the cultists repeated their dark incantations. He coughed up more of the black filth while Helena tried to steady him. His vision blurred and he saw Pharaoh fade in and out of existence, waiting for him at the back of the barn.

  Bartleby held his hands outstretched, his eyes furious and focused on the minions of evil before him. "You have no power here! Your servants of death cannot cross this threshold!"

  The robed figure in the center left his circle. He stretched a gnarled, withered hand forwards out from his robes. The other clutched a large medallion worn on a chain about his neck. His voice emerged, withered and cracked like the stained yellowed pages of ancient books.

  "We will break you …" he said.

  The low repeated chanting continued, but one voice called out above all others. It was that same withered husk of a voice, rising to impossible decibels. The aura of evil radiating from the figure was palpable, and even Kara felt her skin crawl. She could hardly bear to look upon them. The barn itself began screaming as the spirits that haunted it recoiled in horror.

  "Leave these children alone!" Bartleby yelled, attempting to be heard over the din. "Go back to the worship of your foul and unnatural god!"

  "The boy will be ours …" came the words from the Maleficarum, the hissing withered voice leading them in their cry. "He is the son, the messiah, the crawling chaos made flesh."

  "Fools!" Bartleby shouted. "You have been deceived!"