The Gateway Through Which They Came

by Heather Marie

  It’s here and now that everything Julie and I established during our time together is long gone. The friendship we once had is nonexistent. How can we ever come back from this?

  “Jules,” I whisper, careful and calmly.

  From the corner of the mirror, I can see her pressing as close as she can get to the shelf. Seeing her cower away from me like this brings shame and guilt.

  “Jules,” I say again. “What’s happening to me?”

  Julie clutches the cloth of her shirt near her heart. “You’ve been cursed by the wicked,” she answers with certainty.

  The wicked. If she only knew how damning her words are. Panic consumes me. Squeezing my eyes shut and then opening them again, I lean into the mirror and pray for this to go away. My breath becomes heavier with each intake, and my nerves fail to stay calm no matter how hard I try.

  Behind me, Julie creeps along the walls toward the door. But I can’t let her go. No one can know.

  “No!” I rush for the door, pressing my palms against it with all my weight.

  “Please!” she begs, pressing farther away. “Please, let me go, Aiden. You can’t keep me here.”

  I want to cry. I want to scream. But I tell myself to speak low and steady. She’s frightened and the last thing I want to do is make her think she’s in danger. Though what I’m capable of, there’s no telling.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I swear it.” I hold up my right palm, Scout’s honor.

  Julie shakes her head, her eyes shut. She can’t even look at me.

  “Jules?” I step closer. “You have to trust me.”

  With my voice closing in on her, she opens her eyes and thrashes her way back toward the secret door that remains closed behind her. Does she know what exists down there? Was she the one that opened it to begin with?

  Tears streak down her face faster the closer I get. I pull away to give her space.

  “I need a little time to figure out what’s happening to me. Can you do that? Can you just hold on for a second?”

  “Please, let me go home,” she cries.

  “I want to, Jules. I’ll let you go. But right now I need you to promise me something.”

  “What?” she whispers, her eyes meet mine.

  “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

  There’s no time for an answer when the door is dashed open, sending me stumbling back and away from Julie. Father Martin is taken aback by our strange behavior, not to mention the fact that we’re in his office, uninvited. He cocks an eyebrow and glances at us curiously. I remember my appearance and pivot toward the mirror. The reflection looking back at me is the same one I’ve known all my life. There’s no trace of the thing lingering, at least on the outside, because inside is a wreckage of emotions and power that is far from over.

  “What’s going on here?” Father Martin steps into the room, looking tall and stern. He’s acting like a man who just walked in on his niece being violated.

  I’m speechless. To be honest, I’d rather he assume that than know what really happened. Something inside me fears the worst. If Father Martin knew what was becoming of me, would he banish me like they did to the others centuries ago?

  He glares at me, impatiently waiting for an answer, his face glowing red.

  “Nothing, Uncle Jacob.” Julie pushes herself from the wall, steady on her feet. “I came in to open the church like you asked me to. We thought… we thought we heard an intruder.”

  Intruder? Technically, she’s not lying. With what’s happening to me and the strange voices, there were a number of things that could be considered intrusive.

  Father Martin cocks an eyebrow, not quite buying it. I’ve never known Julie to lie. She’s like her uncle in that respect, which is most likely what causes him to accept this explanation.

  “Intruder?” he says. “Is everything okay now?” He steps farther into the office, a file of papers in his right hand.

  Not a word is said. Julie and I catch each other’s line of vision, the lingering fright within her blinking back at me. I won’t blame her if she tells. Prepared for the uproar soon to be released, I look down at my feet and nod. A movement so slight, and meant only for her. It’s okay. I understand.

  “Everything’s fine,” she replies.

  I snap my head up in surprise. She doesn’t look back.

  Father Martin’s eyes narrow with uncertainty, but his shoulders relax. “Good. Now, Jules, if you could please give us a moment to—”

  “It’s okay.” She hurries to the door. “I’m late for school anyhow. I’ll see you at home tonight.” She doesn’t wait for him to reply, brushing past the door and to the exit without another word.

  I fight the urge to run to her, to beg her to forgive me. I’m motionless. My body’s numb by the realization of something hitting me just then, like a tidal wave I didn’t see coming.

  “Is she acting strange to you?” he asks.

  I shake my head. Words escape me while I process what the hell just happened. All this time, the hum I’d been sensing, is the same one following Julie out that very door.

  “Right then,” Father Martin says, oblivious to my discovery.

  Does he know his niece is a Gateway? Does she know? I can only hope they would have told me if they did.

  Father Martin takes a seat behind his desk, and I force myself to follow. I can’t even begin to describe what I’m thinking right now. Was Julie’s father a Gateway? Her mother? Until this, I would never have thought such a thing could be. I’ve never known that a girl could be a Gateway. All this “Men of Light” stuff never mentioned this. Surely Father Martin is aware of such a possibility. Julie’s father was his brother, after all. He must know the truth, or Julie Martin is hiding one hell of a secret.

  Clearing away my thoughts, I wrap my shaking hands around the arms of the chair and study the folder now resting in front of Father Martin. There will come a time to ask for the truth about Julie, but now isn’t it.

  “Aiden,” Father Martin finally says, my name sharp on his tongue, “my fellow brothers and I have discovered the Dark Priest is someone among us. It is dire that we discover the new identity of this man. He has many faces and many powers. Powers that are beyond our understanding. If we don’t find him before he unleashes the Order, the world will become utter chaos.”

  “How do we find him?” My grip tightens with anticipation.

  With careful hands, he opens the folder and removes the cracked and faded papers within. The way they’re yellowed and torn, I worry that if I touch them wrong they’ll crumble to dust. As he sifts through, I notice some are pictures and newspaper clippings, others seemingly torn from a journal with scribbled writing. The penmanship is similar to that inside the Brethren of Shadows.

  When he finds what he’s looking for, he pushes a pile of papers toward me. “Records have been kept from the Middle Ages and before, and in order for us to understand, we must familiarize ourselves with who he is. What he’s capable of.”

  When he says we, I know he means me.

  He watches as I thumb through the papers, unsure of what it is I’m looking for. I picture these records coming from a hidden library somewhere, into which only the brotherhood he speaks of is allowed.

  Each page tells a story, an eyewitness account of what occurred hundreds of years ago. This much I knew already; his reign has plagued this world all that time. Even though the Dark Priest had been cast out of this realm, his followers still remained true to his word. I didn’t have to see a journal entry to know they went into hiding. If Koren’s family believed in him all this time, how many others were out there? The number is too big for me to even imagine.

  “You asked to be a part of this, Aiden. I hope you’re ready to face the true nature of what you are.” He goes still, the pain on his face evident. After all, I’m like a son to him. A real son. No parent wants to send their child off to war. “I never wanted you to know about this side of your gift, son, but I fear we may have no other choice.�
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  I nod in understanding, but the words I should speak are nonexistent. I want to say something to assure him I can do this, that I can handle the responsibility he’s given me. But I’m in this too deep. My gift is nothing like what I’ve come to understand.

  When the words refuse to form, I bow my head and close my eyes, my chin meeting my chest.

  “Lord help us all,” he says.

  Amen.

  walk into my bedroom after another nightmare of a day, when my phone rings.

  “No word from Koren?” Trevor says through the phone receiver.

  “None.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice. Where can she be?

  I’ve put so much hope into believing someone would know something. Coming up empty-handed isn’t an option. Koren didn’t leave me with much, and it infuriates me to no end. I wish for once something would be easy.

  “What do you want to do?” I can hear Trevor chewing on the other end, the constant smack of his lips driving me more and more crazy.

  “Keep looking,” I tell him. There is no other option.

  “Evan’s been shmoozing some of the girls at school. He’s hoping one of them will know something.” He doesn’t sound too impressed with the idea.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he’s doing this for the good of humanity,” I scoff.

  Trevor does the same. “Well, he has your best interests at heart, I’m certain.”

  “Just make sure he doesn’t get too distracted. We need to find her, Trevor.” My voice barely gets out those last words.

  Trevor is on to me, like he always is. “We will, man. I swear it.”

  With his word, our conversation ends. After I say goodbye, I meet my mom downstairs to offer help with dinner. My life may be crumbling around me, but I have to hold on to any sense of normalcy I can possibly grasp.

  Mom switches on the oven light, glancing at the four pieces of chicken that make my mouth water the instant the aroma hits my nose. A bowl of mashed potatoes sits beside the stove top, ready to serve. Dinner is practically ready without my assistance, but I try anyway.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  She picks up the cherry red towel next to the sink and wipes her hands. “Help? Since when did you take an interest in cooking?”

  The veggie steamer dings on the counter beside me. “I just thought I’d offer,” I say as I grab a big serving bowl from the cabinet and begin filling it with green beans.

  “What’s troubling you, Aiden? I may be old, but I’m not blind.” Mom takes the bowl of veggies and places it on the table.

  I’m one step ahead of her when I gather the utensils and plates, setting them on top of the table. It’s been too long since the last time I did this.

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind, Mom. With school and… everything that happened. I didn’t mean for things to go that far.”

  The clank of the plates against the wooden table top fills the room, as Mom removes the chicken from the oven. “I don’t believe you meant to harm anyone. What you did was unacceptable. But I know you, Aiden. Whatever you did, it wasn’t you.”

  If she only knew how right she was about that.

  With the platter of chicken in hand, she leads me to the table.

  I lower my head as she says grace, but can’t keep from thinking how differently she would react if she knew what was happening to me. She’s so calm and unknowing about the shit storm that has taken over my life.

  We eat in silence. Each time my fork scrapes against the plate, I cringe as the unbearable squeal interrupts the serenity of her presence. Each bite is heavy and difficult to swallow. It’s a miracle I can get anything down at all. Before I excuse myself, there’s something I need to know. Something I’ve been meaning to ask.

  “Mom?” She dabs a napkin across her lips, giving me her full attention. I inhale deep. “What do you see in Koren that makes you dislike her so much?”

  She keeps her composure, though she’s silent as if considering the answer. “It’s not her so much as her family. I’ve known her parents since I was a teen, as you know.”

  I nod.

  “It’s just,” she sighs, “they changed, Aiden. Drastically. They went from people I loved and cared for to reserved and cold. This feeling in my gut… it doesn’t sit right with them. Not anymore.”

  I see now what she saw in them then. To me, as strange as it was that they’d disconnected themselves from everyone, I still would never have known it went this far. But my mom must be more perceptive than I give her credit for. She’s known before anyone else that something was amiss.

  I wish I would have done something, anything to stop them from hurting Koren. To stop whoever poisoned their minds into thinking what they did was right. If only I had paid more attention.

  Mom reaches across the table, her hand over mine. “I was wrong to take it out on her, Aiden. A child shouldn’t be blamed for what their parents say or do. And I believe you’ll do what’s right. She needs you,” she says.

  I’ve been waiting so long for my mom to say those words, but time has a funny way of kicking me in the face.

  I thumb through the files Father Martin sent home with me. There are page after page of journal entries and newspaper articles on strange happenings over time. Old photographs of the dead thrown into ditches. People wearing white masks as they walked the streets. The images are horrendous and a shocking reminder of what’s to come.

  When I can’t look at them any longer, I stumble upon a page with faded handwriting that reads:

  June 12th, 1866

  The Dark Priest warns that trouble is near. Men of Light have infiltrated our city and have sought us out. As his brother, I take on the burden of sacrificing myself for the cause. I never wished for this. If only I had known what would become of him after sustaining so much power, if only I had what it takes to stop him. It is too late for me, for all of us. I am bound to him, we all are.

  If he should find the answer to bring back the dark force that guides him, may God have mercy on our souls.

  L. E. R.

  Behind this old parchment is a photograph that looks more like a sketch. I’m amazed at how preserved the image is, considering. Two men, slim and tall, stand beside each other in black cloaks. The hood near their hairline exposes their broad cheekbones, and hollow eyes shadowed harshly by the sepia tone of the photograph. Their vacant stares are similar in more ways than one, hauntingly so. Both expressions are stern and set with power, but only one of them truly sends chills down my spine. Underneath the man whose glare stabs into me like ice picks is the name: Jeremiah Harold Raimi.

  To the left of Jeremiah is his brother Lucius Ezekiel Raimi.

  I read over their names a dozen times until it clicks. J. H. R. The initials circled by Koren on the marble slab in the cemetery. This is the face of the Dark Priest who sent the Bleeder to infect me. Seeing him brings back a memory of something I’ve wanted badly to forget. The image Redhead shared with me on a night that seems so far away. The night my entire world fell out from under me. Seeing his face is enough to send my blood boiling with rage.

  Even from the withered photograph, remorse is apparent on Lucius’s face. Regret for everything he’d done to help his brother become a monster. Or maybe that’s just what I see in him after reading his words.

  An itch at the back of my neck won’t let up. There’s something about Lucius that seems so familiar. It’s not until I finally look past the cracks and yellowed obstructions along the image that I finally see it.

  The face of Father Raimi staring back at me.

  zzie squeals into the turn as I make my way to Mill Street. It’s early morning, an hour before Father Martin will be here to open the church. I barely squeeze parallel between two parked cars, and manage to avoid hitting them along the way. Passersby witness my erratic behavior, but I wave them off to prevent any unwanted attention.

  A car horn blares at me as I scurry ahead of it to the other side of the street. The church steps are slick with
leftover rain, so I reach for the railing and lunge my way to the door. I look around, trying to act calm, but I’m far from it. Anxiety and desperation rocket inside of me. The cold, the shadows, the altar candles. It’s been him this whole time. Could he be protecting the church from the evil of his brother? If the Dark Priest is near, he’s got to know where he is. And maybe then he could lead me to Koren.

  Knowing the door is locked, I try anyway, just in case. As expected, it doesn’t budge. I knock quietly at first to get his attention. I know he’s in there. He has to be.

  “Father Raimi,” I call into the cracks of the door.

  No response.

  “Father Raimi!” I knock harder this time.

  Silence.

  Without raising my voice, I say, “I know, okay? I know who you are, Lucius.”

  I press my body into the door, listening for any sounds. A hint of something to tell me he’s on the other side. Nothing answers back. Feeling the sudden weight of defeat, I turn away. There’s no telling if I’ll see him again.

  I consider waiting on the steps until Father Martin shows, drifting in a trance toward the stairs.

  A click of a lock releasing from its hold jolts me back to reality. The door opens enough to allow a little sunlight into the sanctuary. Cautiously, I push the door forward, the hinges creaking in its wake. The sunlight crawls up the aisle as if chasing away the darkness, stopping just before the altar. Candles are lit, several more than before. With his back to me, Father Raimi stares up above in prayer.

  I slip in quietly, closing the door behind me with care. The room is empty aside from us, dark with chilling cold and musky air like that from the tunnels. Taking my time, I creep in the direction of the altar, watching his every move. If he’s been here this long, after all this time, he’s sure to be something more. It’s not possible for a Bleeder to keep themselves from going Dark Side. But these last few weeks, he’s shown no signs of having gone rogue. Regardless, I can’t ignore the possibility.

  I stop behind him at the sound of his voice.