Indescribable: Book Two of the Primordial

by Gibson, Bryce

  The man followed closely behind. “Why a fox?” he asked.

  “Foxes are one of the many symbols of evil. As you’ve probably already assumed, Stanwood is a very superstitious man. I assure you though that I am not evil. Foxes, like humans, come with a wide assortment of intentions. To pigeon hole the lot of us and say that we are all evil would be like saying that all humans are like you.” The fox looked over his shoulder at the man, but kept walking. By then they had reached the front door. The fox looked at the doorknob and then at the man’s hand.

  Understanding what the fox was motioning for him to do, the man reached out his hand and opened the door. “So if Stanwood created this place, then why make the house like his own?”

  “He made Fractus after what he knew in the real world. It was pieces of what he was familiar with that were the basis for everything that you see here. I don’t want to sound so repetitive, but I do want you to fully understand, so back to the subject of Stanwood being superstitious. Everything he did to you is symbolic of bad luck and evil. The rope, the bat wings, the owl feathers, thirteen shards of broken mirror, wolf and leopard, your right hand -”

  “He didn’t do that. I was mauled by a lion.”

  “OK. But you only have the left to use. The left side is symbolic -”

  “Of evil, I get it.”

  “Actually, that’s a symbol of bad luck.”

  The man rolled his eyes.

  Outside, the air was muggy and humid. It felt like a storm could break at any moment. The fox led the man around the side of the house. The ground was overgrown with tall Bahia grass. It was evident that their feet were the first to ever walk there.

  Behind the house’s structure, there was a tree that was much taller than the house itself. The tree was located dead center inside a wide circumference of stones. It was a beautiful oak tree that looked like it had been there for centuries, but the man knew that like everything else in Fractus it had only just been created. Gnarled roots twisted up from the ground. Vigorous green vines grew from the ground at the tree’s base. The vines wrapped around the trunk, nearly covering the tree in greenery and only leaving several areas of the rough, gray bark visible.

  The man stepped closer and looked upward, toward the highest reaching limbs. Even though it was dark outside, the tree seemed to have a glow shining onto it. Like the vines that grew among the branches, the green of the tree’s leaves was the deepest that he had ever seen. It was the look of a brand new summer.

  The fox was now at the man’s side and was also looking up at the tree. He spoke. “That is the Halford family tree,” he said and then looked over his shoulder at the man, “literally,” he added. “Each limb is one of the bloodline.”

  The man’s eyes scanned the multitude of branches. It must have been dozens.

  “Here is the part where you come in,” the fox said and sat down on the ground. Several shining lightning bugs hovered around the tree. “The vines that grow up the trunk and outward on the limbs are all symbolic. I know, more symbolism, but it has to be explained. Anyway, the ivy is symbolic of love, the holly of hope, and finally the grapevine of fertility.”

  “And I am to kill the vines,” the man said and nodded in understanding.

  The fox nodded back at him. “Pluck the leaves, snap the tendrils, and douse it in flame. Each time will hurt someone, one of the Halfords, whichever limb that it is on.”

  “So then my job will be done?”

  “No, not hardly,” the fox replied and then stood. “These types of vines are invasive. They’ll put on new leaves and when they do, that particular member of the bloodline will learn to love again. He or she will regain hope. It is your duty to make sure that the limbs stay without vine, that the Halfords do not have love or hope. Small doses here and there will be OK, but as soon as possible TAKE IT AWAY.”

  Break their hearts, the man remembered the fox saying. The man understood the scenario. As long as he kept the vine off the limb then that particular Halford would be without, or would lose at that very moment the meaning of the vine that he was destroying. “Can’t I just pull it up by its roots?”

  “You could, but eventually, it’ll grow back.” They will regain hope. They will fall in love again. “And really, when they have it and all of a sudden it is all taken away from them would truly be heartbreaking. Think about it. You can only miss what you once had. Go ahead and try it,” the fox instructed.

  “What do I get out of it?”

  “Do it and see.”

  The man stepped away from the fox’s side and approached the tree. He reached out his hand, put a single, heart shaped leaf between his thumb and index finger and plucked it free from the stem. He knew that that particular vine was ivy, a symbol of love. As soon as he did it he imagined one of the Halfords, it could have been a man or a woman it really didn’t matter, suddenly falling into tears.

  And it was because of him. The feeling that the knowledge gave him was stupendous. Like it always had, the harm that he knew he was causing another person gave him a sense of power. It made him feel like he was one to be reckoned with.

  “It’s what you’ve liked doing your entire life isn’t it? Ever since you have been just a small child, you’ve gotten a thrill out of hurting people and their feelings. It has always turned you on. It is the control you have over them when you do it. You want that empowerment. You need it.”

  The man’s heart was thudding. His pulse was racing with adrenaline. He was already craving to do it again, to pluck another leaf. “Will it,” he had to catch his breath, “will it always be like this?”

  “Certainly,” the fox said.

  The desire was so strong that he had to mentally pull himself back from the vines. The pent up need and want within him was so high that he felt like he would break unless he set it free. It was a fullness that needed to be released. Finally, even though he had tried his hardest, he couldn’t resist the urge that was coursing through his body any longer. He couldn’t hold back the need and desire to unload himself. He turned his back to the fox and reached to the vine and yanked it, pulling it away from the bark of the tree where it had clung itself in its effort of climbing skyward. As the vine pulled free, he growled with pleasure. Underneath the robe, his entire body was thumping with blood. He yanked harder and ripped at the plant. The leaves pulled free from the vine within his closed fist. The crazed pleasure that he was getting from what he was doing was momentous. It was better than anything that he had ever experienced. The climactic sound he made was more than a moan; it was a rumble, a bellow. He fell to the ground with the vine still clenched in his hand. How he slid to the ground with one leg outstretched in front of him caused the green vine to be wrapped and entangled around him. By then he was panting and gasping for air, and as soon as he was able to, he began to laugh lunatic-like. He was satiated and satisfied.

  That night, after returning to the house, the man lay in his four poster bed with the unrelenting and beckoning knowledge that the tree was on the other side of the wall. The bedroom was on the second floor of the house. It was a large, spacious room that only held a few pieces of furniture: the bed, a wardrobe, a chair, and a dresser. Like many of the pieces downstairs, the furniture had been carved from beautiful mahogany. A large window was on one wall. The window looked directly out onto the tree. When he had first arrived in the room, the man had stood there in front of the glass, gazing at the highest reaching branches.

  Now, where he lay on the bed underneath the blankets, his eyes darted around the room. Everything was quiet. No candles were lit. The only light in the room was coming from the white moon just outside that window. The fox had walked him back to the front door of the house, but had parted ways there, running off into the woods. The man knew that what the fox had said earlier in the night was true. He had liked hurting people ever since he had been a young boy. Back then, he had been a bully to the other children and as a teenager it began to turn him on. That was when he had started messing around with
other men’s wives. He knew now that it was the thrill and the heartbreak he was causing that made the act much better than it should have been. The fox had called it power, and the man had never realized it that way before, but it made sense to him. It did make him feel like he had power over others.

  That night in his dreams, after finally falling asleep, he stood outside of the tavern. Like before, he flung the man up against the wall and put the knife to his throat. This time, instead of one shallow cut, it was several, quick, repeated jabs into the other man’s neck, slicing through arteries and vocal chords. Blood gushed forth, drenching the one handed man from head to toe. Behind the mask of warm blood, while he was still holding onto the other man, like he had done underneath the tree, he growled with satisfaction and fulfillment. His desire had been fulfilled. It was a turning point in his life.

  When he woke, he could remember the tavern dream in detail, but there were also hazy pieces of another dream where he had been watching a woman in a blue dress as she ascended a tall flight of stairs that loomed in front of him.

  And it was this dream, the one of the woman in blue that would haunt him for many nights to come.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MEGHAN WAS standing in a room that held a large, floor to ceiling, four poster bed. She was only wearing a long, white chemise. She knew that the piece of clothing was intended to be an undergarment, but to her it seemed more like a night gown. Across from her, the bed’s looming and elaborate headboard was carved with a pair of doves. The bed was beautiful and romantic with mounds of white sheets and pillows. A sheer canopy hung around the top. It was the kind of thing that she could dream of spending time in with Embry, not ever wanting to leave. In the fantasy, they would be in the midst of a romantic getaway and staying at an old inn by the sea.

  She looked around the room. Her surroundings fit the scenario to a T. Everything that she saw was beautiful antiques. She felt like she was in a showroom of a museum and that if she walked too close or touched anything an alarm would sound. The house itself seemed old. The ancient slats of the hardwood floor were cool on her bare feet. There was a large wardrobe that she could imagine her and Embry sharing with the clothes that they had packed for their vacation. She could even hear the crashing waves of the ocean outside the window. The only thing that was missing from the fantasy was Embry.

  She walked to the window and pushed the curtains aside. Disappointingly, the ocean that she was hearing was not visible. Instead, there was a tall, stone wall just outside the window that blocked the view from any sort of landscape. She could see the top of a tree that stood on the other side of the wall. She wondered if it was a magical garden that awaited her there.

  Meghan stared past the wall and into the horizon. She couldn’t help the waves of remorse and feelings of failure that washed over her. She shouldn’t even be standing there in Fractus, she thought. By not getting the book, she had failed herself and Embry. Not to mention Shane. He was gone, presumably sent to The Indescribable, whatever that was, and never to be seen again. The thought of Shane nearly brought her to tears. But this was her new life, here in Fractus, she reminded herself. As Embry had told her the Primordial law just the day before, after a Durori has found his one true love they will spend the rest of their life together in Fractus. And there she was. She knew that she couldn’t change the laws and that if she fought it, the punishment would be terrible. She would have to make do, but she would not give up trying to change or save Embry.

  “Your dress, madam,” a female voice spoke from behind her, startling her.

  Meghan turned around and was face to face with one of the cherubs that inhabited Fractus. She knew not to be afraid of the strange creature and that they had been created to mark the Durori’s True Love. It was the same creature that she had dreamed about crouching over her, stabbing the arrow into her chest. Just like in the dream, the cherub was small, the size of a housecat. It had gray skin and two rows of yellow teeth in the mouth that stretched all the way across its face. A pair of wings was on its back. This one was hovering in front of her. The wings were moving so fast that they were a blur and causing a breeze that blew Meghan’s hair back.

  Meghan realized then that there were actually three of the cherubs there in front of her. Like the one, all of them were hovering at her eye level. Together the three of them were proudly holding a long, blue muslin dress. The dress was intricately detailed with embroidery around the neck line.

  “It’s beautiful,” Meghan said.

  “Only the beautifullest for your wedding day,” one of them said. Meghan looked at the cherub. She noticed for the first time that this one had a white scar that stretched the vertical length of her forehead.

  A slip of paper slid into the room through the crack at the bottom of the door. One of the cherubs zipped over, picked up the paper, and returned to Meghan, holding the paper out to her. Meghan took the paper from the cherub’s small hand.

  Today we celebrate the marriage of

  Mr. Embry Abbott and Ms. Meghan Langley

  At midway through the Second Twelve

  “My wedding day? I just got here,” Meghan said, lowering the paper. It was true; she hadn’t been in Fractus long at all. After emerging from the portal she had been soaking, sopping wet. From there she, Embry, and Jericho had been escorted by a pair of cherubs through the woods to the house where another cherub had led her to the bath. That was where the three of them had been split up.

  “Things move fast here,” the cherub with the scar said.

  Meghan chuckled. “Tell me about it.” It had been no time at all between getting marked and falling completely and head over heels in love with Embry and now getting married. All in all it had only been a month. “Midway through the second twelve? What does that mean?”

  The cherub with the scar spoke up. “Since it is always night here, it is how we break up time, the First Twelve and Second Twelve.”

  Picturing a round clock face with rotating hands, Meghan did a quick, mental notation. She realized that if they would have been back on Earth, the wedding would be at 6 pm.

  Her fingertips felt embossed lettering on the back of the paper and she flipped it over. There was a sketched hummingbird in each of the top corners. She knew that the birds were a symbol of love. In the center of the paper there was an inscription.

  A Love Story…

  In the beginning it was the one known as Thomas Riley that heralded the Era of Love. It is said that the love that he has for his wife is of the purest and strongest to ever exist. It was this love that guided him to lead The Primordial on that long ago day to perform the ritual that would give every Durori the ability to fall in love. And it is because of Thomas Riley that we are gathered today in celebration.

  Meghan saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked toward the doorway. It was Embry standing in the hall. He was facing away from the door, standing in front of a full length mirror that hung on the opposite wall. He had a comb in his hand that he was using to part his hair. He was wearing a handsome frock coat.

  The cherub with the scar screeched out loud and let the dress go. The other two cherubs dropped the dress and zipped to the bed where they picked up the top sheet. They returned to Meghan, flew higher, holding the sheet in front of Meghan like a curtain. At the same time that all of this unfolded the one with the scar zipped through the air toward the door and slammed it shut.

  Meghan laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “He’s seen me in a lot less than this.” She motioned down toward the thin, white fabric that covered her body.

  The cherub with the scar had returned. “We have ancient customs here,” she said. “It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.”

  Meghan put the dress on. One of the cherubs had to tie it at the back. The top was pulled tight and Meghan’s boobs felt like they were nearly ready to pop out. Meghan stepped to the wardrobe and opened the door. Inside, there was an assortment of both men’s and women’s clothes.
She understood that they had been placed there for her and Embry. There was a mirror on the inside of the door and Meghan turned to study her reflection, but before she could steal a good look, the door was slammed shut in front of her.

  “And don’t look at your reflection while wearing the dress,” the cherub with the scar said.

  “Well, shouldn’t the dress be white? Isn’t that a custom too?”

  “It is, but around the turn of the century, it was OK for women to wear their finest evening dress to be married in.”

  Meghan understood that by “turn of the century”, the cherub meant the nineteenth century and not the twentieth or twenty first.

  The cherub with the scar had flown away but returned with a crown of red carnations that she placed on Meghan’s head and promptly flittered away again.

  Now, with the red flowers added to the long, blue dress, she felt more like she was wearing a Fourth of July costume instead of being in the midst of a fairy tale.

  Meghan turned around. The three cherubs were lounging on the bed.

  “So where does the wedding take place?” Meghan asked.

  “The garden,” the one with the scar said.

  Meghan looked toward the window.

  “Oh! No! That’s not the garden.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Nobody goes there. That place is only for The Master.”

  “The Master?” Meghan asked.

  “He used to live here,” the cherub pointed toward the floor, “in this house, but eventually he built a larger place for himself and The Mistress. Where they live can only be described as a palace.”

  When it was time to go, one of the cherubs eased the door open and peeked into the hallway to make sure that Embry was not close by. Realizing that the coast was clear, the cherub motioned for Meghan and the others to follow.