by Susan Murray
The expression on The Dark’s face darkened instantly into rage. His eyes grew larger and blacker, seeming to swallow his face, and although Janus fought to drag his gaze away from The Dark’s, he could not. Something was burning hot and wet behind those eyes and Janus found himself paralyzed, unable to move or look away.
“Help me?” The Dark smiled contemptuously, his teeth needle sharp and white even in the darkness. “Yes, you can help me. Get out.” The Dark made a sharp, dismissive gesture with his hand, a kind of flicking movement, and even though Janus even sensed what was coming, he couldn’t even move to save himself. Then someone hit him viciously on the head from behind and Janus’ world went away.
CHAPTER 24
October 30th – 11:30 p.m.
When she finally arrived home, Uncle Max’s house seemed like a sanctuary, an oasis in the bedlam that had insaned her world of late. After parking her Jeep in the turnaround by the alley, Marley let herself into the house through the back door and then shut and locked the door behind her rather forcefully. For the life of her she could not rid her senses of the sight, sound and smell of the murder she’d witnessed.
Her finger throbbed.
Reading about Gilliam Folsom’s death had been bad enough. Actually watching Gillian’s brother meet with his own brutal end had been an experience of the worst kind. Teeth chattering spastically, Marley changed into her pajamas and bathrobe then moved restlessly around the house, double-checking windows and doors before she went to sleep, making sure that everything was locked tight. Marley admitted wryly to herself that checking the locks was quickly becoming her new nervous tic.
Because there was no denying that something freaky was going down. Not just with all things Sherman as Alison had so succinctly put it that afternoon but also with The Dark himself. Two violent deaths in two days hinted that he was involved in something very sinister. Or if not him personally, then some member of his entourage and self-help empire. Someone very close to him. Marley needed to speak with Stella ASAP to tell her editor about the weird that had become her new norm and ask Stella for input and guidance. Marley picked up her cell phone and began dialing but fortunately realized her error in time. Hung up quickly.
If Marley called her boss this late and began raving hysterically about the last twenty-four hours Stella would likely send over those guys in white coats who’d make sure she had a nice long rest in a padded room. And truth be told, if Marley were to honestly confide in the nice doctors at the sanitorium about everything that had been happening to her lately, she doubted she’d ever convince them to take more than a dim view of her mental health.
It wasn’t just about The Dark and the way people around him had a way of dying, it was about Uncle Max, disappearing cats, midnight intruders in weird shoes and little girls wandering around and strange forests and fortune-tellers and everyone warning her about what she already knew: that she was in danger and there was something seriously wrong going on.
Marley sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. Closed her eyes dizzily and leaned her head against the wall behind her, hearing once more the sound of squealing tires then the ghastly slap of moving metal against flesh. That awful airborne pause then the damp meaty crack of the body striking the dumpster.
She was dimly aware of the kitchen clock, a black and white Felix the Cat model with twitchy eyes and tail, ticking and ticking away in the background. The sound seemed to thicken and set in her ears like cotton candy. The hum of the refrigerator nearby swelled and buzzed in the background. Like a suffering beast it emitted a whine that sickened Marley to the core. Soaking into her body this sound rattled the very skeleton hiding so shyly inside of her.
Her finger throbbed sharply.
Clasping both hands over her ears Marley found herself listening for each beat of her own heart. Every single fragile beat. Wondering with real concern what kept it going so steadily. Thinking about what it would be like when her heart finally stopped. Because it was bound to stop sometime, wasn’t it. Why not here? Why not now? What was it like to be dead like Gillian’s brother? (That meaty smack).
The scent of roses was overpowering. Marley opened her eyes halfway, too weary to do anything more. The Dark’s gift had scented the entire room and the heavy smell was cloying. Marley tried to sit up straight but found she could not. A lassitude had penetrated every muscle and her body refused to obey her simplest request. She felt far too massive to move. Like a puppet without strings, she was rooted to the spot. Marley giggled a little, wondering if this was what trees felt like.
From her new dissociative mental place Marley realized that she was losing her mind. But aside from the experiences and obvious stressors she’d experienced that day something else was very wrong. A gas leak in the house maybe or perhaps she was having an allergic reaction to the roses. Staggering to her feet Marley took one tentative step toward the back door, then another, planning to open the door and let in some fresh air.
The black roses in the vase on the kitchen table writhed and began to move. Their petals folded up like miniature umbrellas, stems stretching longer and longer. One by one each flower thickened into a long black shape that wriggled free of the vase and came crawling toward Marley, hissing malignantly.
What the heck? Feeling sick and more than a little giddy Marley took a step back then another, watching as all two dozen of The Dark’s roses morphed into snakes and began to slither across the kitchen table toward her in a seething, writhing tangle of malice. Several of them dropped onto the floor, falling between her and the back door.
Gathering her wits, Marley stumbled out of the kitchen and headed for the front door without looking back. But as she passed the dining room table it shifted on shiny wooden legs and blocked her path disrespectfully. Lurching around it, Marley noticed a burl on the surface of the table had formed a crude, sullen face that grimaced up at her in dislike.
One of the matching wooden chairs sneered and moved into her path as well, deliberately blocking her exit from the front door by sticking out a tripping leg. As Marley fell down a nearby floor lamp reached over and contemptuously smacked her in the face with its shade. Faint with terror Marley watched while the bookcases conspired to body-slam her into pulp.
Marley’s head whirled and spun violently. Her stomach clenched and heaved. Like that time she’d made the mistake of riding the Upside-Down! Round and Round! Rocket Blaster! at the Minnesota State Fair back when she was fourteen. Her vision distorted too but not enough to prevent Marley from seeing how all the furniture on the first floor had turned against her.
Fleeing this impossible scene Marley staggered to her feet and labored up the stairs but keeled over on her side over when a family photograph hanging on the wall turned into a bat and flew at her head. Marley let out a scream so loud that it scared all the other pictures and they followed suit. She slapped them away from her face and hair and cowered momentarily on the seventh and eighth steps.
Working up her courage Marley crawled farther along up the stairs but the carpet took advantage of her momentary weakness and attacked. Thick rayon fingers wrapped about her feet slowing Marley to a snail’s pace as she defended against this new threat. Whimpering quietly so that the end table on the landing wouldn’t awaken and come for her too, Marley headed for the attic.
The last tiny sane part of her, hiding in her mental safe room, reminded Marley that there was a metal fire ladder somewhere in the attic. An escape if things got too bad, assuming the ladder didn’t turn on her as well. A crazy giggle slipped out of Marley, threatening to bring an avalanche of there’s-more-where-that-came-from while she slammed and locked the attic door behind her. Though Marley braced herself there was nothing but deep silence in her wake.
Stunned and unable to process what was happening to her, Marley backed away from th
e door and kept backing up until she felt the familiar futon underfoot. Sinking nervelessly down onto the futon Marley hugged herself and rocked back and forth like a child, trying to figure out what to do. She was on her own. No defenses. No weapons.
There was a cheery red plastic pail holding cleaning supplies. Windex, Lemon Pledge and two sponges with a roll of paper towels. Maybe she could somehow ignite the aerosol in the Pledge and turn it into a flame-thrower? Too bad she didn’t smoke. Breakdown Marley laughed aloud at the irony. If she smoked she’d have a cigarette lighter to ignite the Pledge and smoking would have saved her life.
Sane Marley trapped somewhere deep inside reminded nervous breakdown Marley that she’d gone round the bend. Breakdown Marley chuckled and nodded, keeping a wary eye on the furniture.
CHAPTER 25
October 31st – 12:00 a.m.
Shadows curled and writhed under the door to the attic like wraiths, swirling into an ever-thickening shape. Then came the strong smell of roses overlaying the bitter reek of something rancid and Marley felt that dreadful lethargy creeping over her again.
A dizzy confusion of mind and spirit and hard feelings that rose within her unbidden.
All of life’s disappointments, large and small. Every sad thought or blue mood she’d ever had and every hurt or slight she’d experienced over the years. Each discouragement or failure she’d ever borne, all came flooding back into Marley’s mind with vivid clarity.
She remembered her first bee sting, the first time she fell off her bike, stubbed her toe bloody at the pool, the first boy she’d crushed on who didn’t return her feelings, that time in home economics class she’d nearly blown up the oven. How it felt to be rained out of a picnic, be unchosen at the dance, to miss the bus by mere seconds.
These memories frayed the edge of Marley’s mind, stealing her remaining confidence as the shadows before her coalesced into the shape of a man. The Dark stood before Marley’s glazing eyes.
“Where is it?” He was smiling at her with teeth pointed and much sharper, eyes thinner and far longer than ever before.
“You aren’t even real.” Marley told him point blank, “You’re just another hallucination like the furniture.” She frowned up at The Dark, puzzled. “I think I’m sick or something.”
“Where iss it?” The Dark’s tongue seemed longer, his voice harsher and somehow less human. Were those. . scales on his forehead?
Marley closed her eyes against his scary visage. “I don’t feel so good. Go away please.” She tried this just in case it worked. It didn’t. That crazy fellow last night had been a far nicer intruder. The Dark simply stood there, not leaving, and Marley’s stomach roiled at the appalling reek that had taken up residence in the attic.
The Dark began to grow in size, inflating like a noxious blow-up doll as his skin purpled with rage. Marley was reminded of the pufferfish. “Where,” he demanded again, “iss the boookk?!”
“Arggh. . .” Overcome by nausea Marley hurled on The Dark’s shoes, just as she’d hurled right after her ride on the Rocket Blaster so long ago. Unlike the ticket taker at the fair that day, The Dark didn’t move in time.
“Oh jeez.” Marley stood up, weaving slightly and wrinkling her nose at the stink of puke. “I’d better clean that up.” Furiously The Dark reached out and smacked her sharply across the left cheek.
Marley staggered back, eyes wide. “Hey! Stop that!” A stab of genuine anger penetrated Marley’s delirium and she came out of her daze just long enough to perceive the very real danger that faced her.
The Dark no longer looked human. His eyes had become completely black and his hair had thickened into bristles. His teeth were needle-sharp and lined his gums in rows like hairs on a brush. She could tell because his mouth had widened and widened until his smile was so broad that it seemed the top of his head would lift right off.
His ears had grown outward like the wings of a bat and for a moment Marley felt terrified enough to wet herself just like little Hector had done earlier. But then she was reassured by the sight of The Dark’s skeleton right there under his skin, just trying to be friends with her. He was freaky it was true, but his skull kept on grinning and grinning at her. Marley had to feel at least a little bit sympathetic.
We’re all just bones underneath after all. Marley chuckled on the inside as she thought about reaching over and tugging the skeleton right out of The Dark. He’d probably crumple up into a soft heap on the floor at her feet while they danced. Skeletons were generally not forthcoming, but they could be persuaded. Maybe a jitterbug. Reaching out a hand, Marley snatched for the bones hiding so coyly under the skin of his wrist.
The Dark flicked her hand away contemptuously and grabbed her firmly by the upper arm. His fingers were taloned in black claws, the flesh of his hand had withered and shriveled lizard-like. “You dare strike me?”
“I was asking your skeleton to dance,” Marley admitted. No point in hiding the truth.
A furious hiss. “Where iss the book?”
“Don’t you have enough books?” Marley was beginning to feel irked by his obsession. Her finger throbbed. He wouldn’t let go.
The Dark’s shoulders writhed and shifted. His pet furtively emerged from his cape, uncoiling length after gruesome length of its body, a parade of centipede segments, six, seven, nine, eleven pairs of ghastly legs, hand-claws marching down The Dark’s arm toward Marley. And as it slithered thus slyly forward the creature’s eyes glittered with pleasurable anticipation. A sharp gleam of malice.
Its tongue came out and out and out until Marley felt the slimy slick of it on her hand. A horrid wet touch that burned into her skin. A deep freeze of cold followed that unholy kiss and Marley felt her own mind being pushed aside as the creature sank its fangs deep into the skin of her wrist.
She saw through her own eyes a replay of herself picking up the mail from her Uncle Max’s postbox then bringing it home, opening the Mail and unwrapping the blank book. Saw herself place the book on the trunk nearby.
The Dark hissed sharply, “There, it iss there!” One of his four arms (had he always had so many?) elongated and retrieved the partially wrapped book from Uncle Max’s Navy trunk where she’d left it. The Dark’s creature withdrew its fangs from Marley and coiled back up his arm, slinking down for a look at the book he held.
“Oh, THAT book.” Marley said, really peeved now, “It’s blank, you idiot.” Or, at least this is what she wanted to say, but whatever force held her in its power was more than she could fight. In fact it was then Marley realized that she was no longer capable of speaking nor of even drawing breath. The numbing cold of the creature’s bite spread rapidly up her arm toward her heart and dimly Marley understood that she was dying.
There was a shimmer in the air next to The Dark and suddenly the Priest King lunatic guy and Galea stood there. “Stay!” Zage’s voice was strong as he flung a handful of something sparkling into the air above The Dark and his creature. Like ghouls in a snowglobe they both froze in place as the air around them swirled and shifted with thousands of bits of glitter like little stars whirling in a spiral pattern.
Zage darted forward just in time to catch Marley as she fell. Through a dark red haze Marley could see him take the situation in at a glance. “She’s been poisoned,” he told Galea tersely, “and he has the Book!”
Something was moving inside of the sparkling cloud. Sinuously The Dark’s creature came forth, surveying the situation from its many eyes. Before Zage or Galea could intervene the creature doubled back on itself, side-winding up The Dark’s arm until it crouched atop his head like a wicked little hat.
Then there was a sharp hot flash of yellow light and they both disappeared. Marley’s eyes closed and she could feel the last bit of sensation lea
ve her body. She tried to take one more breath but that wasn’t happening. The darkness won.
“Mother?” Galea’s voice was far away like someone calling to her from deep inside a cave below. Marley fell into the rabbit hole and then there was no light.
CHAPTER 26
Sumeria, approximately 3,000 BC
Marley made a mighty effort and opened her eyes. Kept them open and looked around fearfully. She was lying under a red silk canopy suspended from a tall wooden bed frame in a large airy room with whitewashed walls. A row of arched windows to her right were aglow with the bright light of day. There was no sign of The Dark, or the attic, or any other part of Uncle Max’s house at all for that matter.
“Stay still.” A familiar voice said, and Marley turned her head to see Zage, the lunatic Priest King who had somehow saved her from The Dark, standing by her bedside. The little girl Galea was there too. Both of them were still dressed like circus people, which wasn’t reassuring.
Ignoring Zage’s advice, Marley sat up gingerly and swung her feet over the side of the huge bed. She still wore her pajamas and bathrobe but had lost the bunny slippers somewhere down the line. Light-headedly Marley gazed about herself, justifiably confused. “Is this some kind of hospital?”
Embroidered tapestries on the wall to her left depicted hunting scenes of men riding elephants and camels adorned in colorful harnesses and cloth saddles through goofy-looking forests of twisted trees. The walls on which these tapestries hung were giant, rough hewn blocks of stone, obviously part of a much larger building.
“Not exactly,” Zage replied. “You really should stay in bed.”
Marley ignored this advice and stood up. Beneath her feet hand-cut stone floor tiles were inlaid with semi-precious gems cut into eight-pointed star patterns, flowery clusters of primary colors set into the white marble floor.
