by Mark Lumby
“I don’t think you’re as bad as I thought,” I confessed, although trying to keep my emotions reserved. I realised too much and too soon could prove a deadly combination. So I was careful. This could still be another trick.
“Well, your Mother wasn’t to know. How is she?”
How could he not know; I thought he knew everything. But no, that was Jack, wasn’t it?
“She died,” I told him, my voice sounding low. “Cancer,” I said. “She warned me against you.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Here I am.”
Carl bowed his head. He removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the dust from is hands. “I had hoped that maybe I could’ve seen her.” He shook his head. “Did she suffer at all?” He returned the handkerchief.
“No,” I told him. I was lying because she did in her own way. I didn’t want to tell him that, though. Little information was kinder…simpler. “Why is Jack different from you?”
“Different?” he queried with a smirk. The right side if his mouth lifted and I could see stained teeth.
“Yes…different…I don’t know. Mad? Evil? He wasn’t the boy I knew.”
“He had a bad taste in his mouth, Daniel. Unfortunately, you caused that. All Jacks got in his stomach is hatred. He was feeding of it; thats the difference between him and me.” He glanced up the stairs expectantly. “I always loved my family and that stopped me from drowning. The mirror, and the evil it released into this house seduced me. It changed me, but it never had all of me! I kept something in the basement.” Carl tapped his head with his boney finger. “Something just for me so that I wouldn’t be lost. I had a picture in my mind. Whenever things got bad, I thought of your Mother and my wife. Jack was right. I did push them away. But not because I didn’t love them. I pushed them away because I did love them. They couldn’t stay. But I couldn’t leave, too.”
“But Jack went missing?” I reminded him. “He came here, into this house, and he never came out! He had a Mom and a brother…he was loved!”
He kept on nodding and looked impatient. “Yes…yes, I know. And that was probably the most selfish act of desperation that I’ve done.” He shrugged. “Simple answer, Daniel; I needed him.” He grabbed my arm when I turned away in disgust.
I let out an audible Pff! and whipped away my arm.
Carl delved into another pocket and pulled out loose pieces of paper. “It was going to plan, Daniel, until he killed me, and I was imprisoned in my own house.”
“Why did you do it? He was young. He had his whole life; a future.”
Carl nodded. “Yes, I know. And I regret it everyday.”
“But, why?” I demanded.
“Because I wanted to go; the pain was too great. And I could feel myself being drawn deeper into a place I feared. I needed to die! Be with my Maggie.” He thumbed through the pieces of paper.
“Thats my Grandma?” I never knew her name was Maggie.
He smiled warmly. “The mirror, Daniel. What do you wish to do with it?”
It was under my arm. “Father Thomas told me to destroy it. What would you have me do?”
“Would you listen if I told you, after all that has happened?”
I shrugged and told him, “another opinion wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Well, the mirror does represents Hell; it is hell in all of its purity. A gateway for all that is evil.”
“And so it must be destroyed?” I asked him, anticipating confirmation.
“Mmm,” he replied as if a great sadness suddenly overcome him. “That would be one option, and a good one if only…” he signed.
“But that would be the wrong choice?”
“No…not necessarily, though, it would definitely be over.”
“No seven years of bad luck?”
“Thats rubbish,” he laughed. “Jack trying his tricks. And you believed him?”
I nodded. “It freaked me out a bit.”
“Well, son, its rubbish. You destroy the mirror, everything goes away; its over.”
“I’m sensing there’s a but in all this?”
Carl gave a guilty wince. “I wouldn’t die, and neither would Jack. But we would be delivered to hell, or a place that certainly wouldn’t be a stranger to the same name.”
“So what would you suggest?” I queried, although sounding abrupt.
“Well…you could release me, but to do that, you would have to save the mirror, guard it as I have. But,” he waved his hand, “I wouldn’t expect that of you!”
“But if I did, I would have the power to set you free; you would be allowed to live.”
Carl sighed, and shook his head. He said into his chest, “Yes, until I die of old age, then you can destroy the mirror and start your life.” He looked up and frowned. “But thats out of the question!”
“Then why make such a suggestion if its out of the question,” I asked bluntly. I suppose I was angry with him for having such thoughts. But it did kind of make sense. My Grandad must have ten years in him at the most. He wasn’t an evil man, so didn’t he deserve some kind of a life? Didn’t he?
Carl spat, “I…I don’t know. Hope, I guess. But…no, I won’t allow it. I can’t.” He shook his head frantically, and nervously brushed his grey stubble with the back of his hand.
“Would you stop me if I said yes?”
Carl thought about this for a few seconds. He grimaced. “No…I suppose not,” he uttered with reluctance. “But I wouldn’t have very long to live, Daniel. I have cancer, you see. And when I’m released the disease will commence like a big plague upon me. All the years I have missed will rip and tear throughout my raging body. Like I told you earlier; I need to die, now. And these walls have been my protection for too long.”
I took the mirror from under my arm and held it with stretched arms. “Then it wouldn’t be for long,” I looked at Carl and smiled. “I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t. Jack still lives. His death must happen first.”
“I need to kill him?” I asked.
“You’ve got to draw him away from this house. Thats what will make him vulnerable to you. While you’re watching him, and whilst you’re a part of this house, nothing will happen. But as soon as you leave…run! Take the mirror! He’ll come; he needs it, just like a junkie needs drugs. He’ll want it back.” Carl gently pushes the relic into my chest. “And when he finds you, you make damn sure you’re ready for him!”
“And when I kill him?”
He looked away from me. “You come back here. I’m going nowhere.” He had separated the pieces of paper and returned one of the pieces to his pocket, leaving the rest to fall to the floor.
I glanced at Jacks body. “He looks pretty harmless. He’s only a boy.”
“He’s infected and that makes him more than a boy,” Carl warned. “He can make demons rise for him; he can tell them to come for you. He’s clever like that. So don’t be fooled by his angelic appearance.”
“No,” I uttered. “He killed his own family; I know he’s dangerous.”
***
There was a forest five miles out of town. I didn’t know what was going to happen when Jack found me, so I need somewhere quiet, away from the public. Someplace where know one else would get hurt. But I also needed a place to run, to hide if needed.
I wondered what would happen once he was here. However, I discovered that once I delved too deep into the scenarios of my mind, the outcome would be bloody and gruesome and unnatural. And although I would question just how I would kill him, I struggled to evade the imagines my mind left with me. The pistol was back at the house, and I had no other weapon on me. I checked my waist, but I knew that I wasn't wearing a belt either, so I couldn’t strangle him. But even to strangle him, I would need to get close to him. And that alone would be a challenging task.
Surely I must have the advantage. I was the adult after all, and here was this young adolescent, smaller than me, weaker than me. Because without the protection of the h
ouse, he was as vulnerable as anything living. His skull could crack, his bones would break, he could die.
I found a base camp, made a fire from dried wood and twigs, and searched around for something solid to hit Jack with. I had placed the relic in a rucksack I had found in the car trunk, and now used it to cushion by back against a tree. I watched the fire, holding onto the makeshift weapon I had found, and waited for him. I knew that if I fell asleep, then Jack would start taking from me again. But I slept regardless.
I was in the kitchen of the house. I called out for Carl, but he didn’t answer. I wandered into the hallway, stopping just before the basement. The door was shut, so I carefully opened it. The light was on. It swayed as though something had just tapped it. But there was no Jack. His body was clear of the floor. He had gone. And then I was pushed through the basement door by a heavy hand. I slipped down a couple of steps, but managed to turn around and took grip of the rail. But the tighter I held on, the rail crumbled into ash.
It was Carl. “Go! Wake up, you damn fool!” he screamed. I reached out for him because I could feel gravity winning. But he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me down the steps instead. “Wake up, boy! Wake up!” He was angry, his stained teeth gritted behind snarling lips.
The sun had fallen and I awoke under a blanket of stars. The fire crackled and spat, flames flickering, creating silhouettes of disfigures beasts that crept through the trees. I grunted as I stood, stretching away the pain of sleeping with your back against your rucksack. I wiped away damp bark from my jeans and observed my surroundings for the first time in the dark.
I knew he was here, or at least very close. Carl had warned me, so I was expecting him.
“I’m waiting!” I called out. I was anticipating an echo, but it was as if the trees were absorbing my voice, stopping it from escaping the forest and alerting other of my presence. No one would ever know I’m here. But isn’t that what I wanted? I couldn’t help but wonder if I had sealed my own fate by choosing this place.
The air became still and I could smell the basement of the house. “Jack?” I shouted, but sounding a little lower because I was feeling a presence. “Are you here?” I squinted through the trees. There was a silhouette moving in a haphazard way between the tree trunks. It could have been the fire, but this was different than before.
“Jack!” I called a bit louder. “I see you!”
“You see nothing…” Jack was behind me. He was reaching for the rucksack.
There was a rustling within the trees where I had seen something move.
Jack said, “…but death; something that is here, but not here; something that, if you don’t kill it first, will rip you apart.” He picked up the rucksack, checked for the mirror inside, and leered at me. The fire morphed his face to resemble something grotesque and evil.
There was the crackling and breaking of branches, and out from the darkness came the Pacemaker. It breathed heavily as if it had run a great distance. And then as abruptly as it had appeared, it stopped and stared.
“I knew this would be easy, Dan, but…come on! This is child’s play. Its almost as if you want to die,” Jack insisted. “Is that it, Dan? Do you want to die? Have you given in to your guilt? All those years of wondering, where did Jack go? The guilt that you must have been riddle with,” he spat. “I almost sympathise.”
I thrust out for the bag.
The Pacemaker took a step forward, crushing the leafy ground beneath him with a heavy thud.
Jack shot the demon a glance and it halted as if waiting for further instructions. He pulled the bag away. “Careful! You don’t want to break it,” he mocked.
“You give it back,” I reached out. “Or I swear that you’ll know about it!”
“I’ll know about it?” he laughed heartily. “And refresh me on how I would know about it? The way I see it, Dan, I have what I came for. I don’t need to get my hands dirty in your blood. Although, speak to me like that again, and I will see that your neck is snapped from your spine!”
I stepped back, frowning, and kicked a rock with the back of my heel. I looked down at it, hesitated a little because of the demon standing behind me. Could Jack snap my neck? Eventually, I squatted to pick up the rock. I said to Jack, “I wonder if Carl ever told you?”
“Ha! I stopped listening to Carl a long time ago!”
“Are you sure you stopped listening? Or do you think that he just didn’t want to tell you?” I said. I tossed the rock from hand to hand. “But its clear by your confidence towards me that he didn’t reveal anything to you.” The Pacemaker was several metres behind me, but it wouldn’t take it long to pounce upon me. I could feel the warmth from its stale breath hitting the back of my head with a burning sensation.
“I have the mirror, not to mention that great old beast standing over you.” The Pacemaker grunted its presence, which there was no doubt about. But I couldn’t tell if this was a grunt of disapproval for calling him a beast, or just primitive intellect. “I have certain gifts at my disposal. I can cause as much suffering as I wish. Oh, and I have you! That, I suppose is the main prize.”
“But you don’t,” I reminded him.
“But eventually, I will. If the hourglass doesn’t get you, you will creep through the walls of the house with your Grandad, looking for an escape. Entrapment will be your hell!”
I grinned, shaking my head in amusement. “You haven’t changed, Jack. You were full of yourself then, and you still are. Clearly, you don’t know.”
“Amuse me,” he said. “What do you know that I don’t?”
I looked around at the trees, and raised my one free palm to the dark, yet star stuck, sky. “Where are we?”
“We’re here,” Jack told me, and took at step forward.
“We’re here! And where is here; what does that mean to you?” I stepped backwards in the direction of the demon.
Jack was contemplating the possibility. He knew that I did know something, and this angered him. He looked uneasy. “Enough games!” His tone was low and serious. He slipped the rucksack over his arm. “What you have makes no difference to me, to this situation we have here.”
“Oh, but it does,” I cajoled. “Because we are not in the house.”
Jack shrugged as if by saying, so?
“Carl told me that once that when you leave the house, you still have your powers, but theres just one other thing.”
And in that instance, I knew that Jack had seen into my head and had discovered what I was thinking. His blue eyes became dilated and darker, and I realised that I must act now.
I lifted the rock and pulled my arm back. “Your protection! Out here, you can die!” I let the rock go with all the anger and hatred I had for Jack. It ripped through the smoke of the fire, and towards his head, striking him across the right temple. I didn’t think it was possible, but I heard a crack. Jack gently lowered the rucksack to the ground. He stared at me, and it was as though I was seeing a glimmer of the Jack I used to know. He gave me a weak smile, blinked very slowly and nodded as if he had accepted his fate. I saw blood flood out from his hair and fall down his cheek. He fell against the tree truck and sank to the ground. He was still staring at me, then he glanced over at the demon. He breathed with all the vengeance his dying body could throw, “Kill Him!! Kill Him!! Kill Him!! Ki…”
The ground cracked from behind and the heavy breathing of the demon became louder and warmer. It smelt unclean, like dried stale urine, and it was getting unbearably stronger. I reached for the rucksack, never removing my eyes from Jack, wondering to myself if he was dead. But he was, and I had to unwrap Jacks arm from around the bag and put it over by back.
The stench was even stronger, but the demon was moving slowly, as though it was taking its time in my inevitable fate; inevitable to him at least, but not for me. I still had fight inside of me.
Run…
Carl had warned me to do this. And I’d wondered what he had meant when I needed Jack to find me. But I think it was for what
came next where that advice was more apt.
Run…
I stood just as the footsteps ceased, and prepared for my escape. I knew where I needed to go; it was just a case of getting there before it did. I had to find a safe haven, safe if only for a few seconds. But hopefully a few seconds would be long enough.
I could sense the demon reaching out with it’s abnormally long arms; I knew of its presence. The smell was putrid. I could feel vomit rising deep from the bowels of my stomach and into my throat, an acidic taste that stung as it rose. But before it could reach my mouth, I swallowed it back…and ran.
I ran through the gaps in the trees, around them, weaving in and out; I thought that perhaps I would confuse the demon. But when I had the opportunity to look behind me, the demon wasn’t following my path. It had created a route of its own, a passage where I couldn’t take. It was trudging though the trees, as if they were ghosts. Then I remembered the church. I remembered when it ploughed through the stone walls as though it was swimming through water. But then the thought of Father Thomas came to me, and the mess it made dragging him through the stone.
The demon was nearly on top of me. I had imagined the beast crashing through the trees, splintering chunks of wood piercing the ground like arrows and spears. But the only crashing it emitted was its own thudding footsteps.
I chose this spot for one reason. It was safe up ahead, just in case I needed to hide. It was a cave with an entrance barely three feet high, and once inside, it had a six feet drop into a tunnel which had no end. So once I was in there, I would be trapped. And given the fact that the demon could pass through stone, I was judging that the sudden descent into the ground would confuse it enough to purchase ample time.
I could see the small cave under the moon light; the entrance looked like a black hole into the abyss. Would I have gone down there if I hadn’t seen the cave in the daylight first? Probably not. I would have kept on running through the forest, dodging trees and leafy branches, eventually surrendering to the demon.
