Darkest Light

by Hiromi Goto

  He couldn’t. He mustn’t.

  The horrible little creatures. They were children….

  No different from rats. The lively rat canapés they served at the Mirages.

  Twirling around him. Like targets in a carnival. Tasty, squirmy and so nourishing—

  No! Gee pressed his palms desperately against his mouth. Popo, he cried. Please. Help me. White Cat….

  His jaws. Loosening. Unhinging. Eyes wide, Gee cast about the room. Something. To make them stop. Spinning and spinning. His mouth opening, inexorably….

  Make it stop before it was too late.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There was no one. No one to stop him.

  Gee crammed his forearm into his widening mouth. Plugged the tickling bulge, the compulsive muscle in the back of his throat. He bowled through the spinning girls as if they were playing a game of Red Rover.

  The girls scattered like bocce balls, whisking away in five different directions, the patter patter patter of their footsteps echoing between rows of books. Into the depths of the massive Archives.

  Gee ran toward the centre of the room where he’d heard the groan coming from.

  The compulsion from the back of his throat slowly receded. He could finally loosen his jaw’s grip, let his forearm drop from his mouth. He didn’t even notice that his teeth had broken through his white flesh….

  Gee careened around a set of shelves and came to an open space furnished with a long wooden table. Pieces of parchment, folded sheets of paper, were strewn all over the floor.

  The table looked like the one back home, at his grandmother’s place….

  On the table, taped flat to the surface, completely immobile, was Cracker.

  “Jeeesus!” Gee hissed.

  The edges of the table were set with mismatched plates, bowls and teacups. Broken dolls and maimed stuffed animals sat in the twelve wooden chairs that circled the table. Cracker, catching sight of Gee in the corner of her eye, began fighting at the bonds. Her mouth was stopped with tape, but he could see she was furious. Terrified.

  “Mmmm mm mmmph!”

  Gee ran to her side, knocking several chairs out of the way. They clattered loudly against the stone floor. He began babbling as he tore off the tape. “I’m sorry! This is going to hurt. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t mean it. I’m better now. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “Ahhhh!” Cracker cried, as Gee tried to gently pull the tape away from her mouth.

  Thank you, Gee thought, as he stared at her. Thank you for being alive. He ripped the tape off her arms, from her shoulders. They’d looped the strips around the entire table, and Gee had to duck up and down to unwind it.

  “I hate kids,” Cracker rasped.

  Gee, ripping tape away beneath the table, broke into a grin.

  “I’m never going to be a mother,” she muttered.

  Gee brought the length of tape back up, tore the freed portion off, tossed it to the side and began ripping off what remained.

  Arms and torso free, Cracker, groaning, sat up. She had looked weary before, but now she looked as if she’d gone through a round of chemotherapy. Her complexion was grey and her golden eyes were so dim Gee could scarcely discern their colour.

  Not good, he thought. What was happening to her Life Spirit?

  What a waste, the nasty voice inside him whispered. Don’t let it go to waste.

  Gee shook his head, as if shaking would drive the evil voice out of him. “Where’s White Cat?” he demanded. He felt a wisp of cold air whipping past him. The echo of childish little feet. “Why didn’t he help you?” Those little kids. What did they want? Gee tried ripping at the overlapping tape around Cracker’s knees.

  The cat’s head popped out of Cracker’s skirt pocket, a disgusted look in his eyes. “You might have noticed, but I was trapped? Beneath tape? There is the matter of, well, materiality and space, you know.” Suddenly the cat hissed, the pupils of his eyes flooding the irises. “Those terrors are back!” He ducked back inside.

  “What was that?” a child voice breathed.

  Gee twitched.

  The girl with the leeches was standing right beside him. He could see the top of her head. Leeches squirmed inside her wet strands of hair, glinting and writhing.

  “Was that a kitty?” she asked wonderingly.

  “Kitty! Kitty!” the girls’ voices cried from throughout the cavernous room. They pattered toward the table, smiling so sweetly it almost broke Gee’s heart.

  He had to be careful. The girls weren’t powerless. They had overcome Cracker. He could trick them, Gee thought. They’re still little…. “Simon says STOP!” he cried. The four girls lurched to a stop, but not before they teetered, staggered.

  “I saw you all move,” Gee said decidedly. He pointed. “Go back to that bookshelf.”

  “Awwwww!” the girls moaned as they stomped farther back.

  Gee could hear Cracker ripping at the rest of the tape.

  The girl with the leeches was staring at the pocket where White Cat had disappeared.

  “You have to go back too,” Gee said, “to make the game fair. Simon Says go join your sisters.”

  “I don’t feel like playing fair. I don’t feel like playing. I’m so hungry….”

  Plat. Plat. Plat. Drool was actually falling from her lips, splattering on the floor.

  “Yes,” her sisters whispered. “We finished eating all the rats and mice and bugs a long time ago.”

  “Hungry, hungry,” the girls chanted, drawing closer toward them.

  The hair rose on the back of Gee’s neck. The girls were little cannibals…. Just as he used to be … in the past. When he used to be Mr. Glueskin—

  Just like you are now! the ugly voice snarled, filling Gee’s head with rage and fear. Swamping him. Overwhelming. And on the tail of those emotions roared his own unbearable hunger. It clenched his muscles like a cramp, twisting so intensely it took his breath away. He would have fallen to his knees. He caught the edge of the long table with both hands, his knuckles turning white with the effort to remain standing.

  A leech-covered hand patted one of Gee’s rigid claws as he panted through the horrible spasms. “You’re hungry, too.” The little girl’s voice was tender.

  Gee stared at her awful hand. It was so messed up. The sufferers who suffered. Who went on to create new suffering. It wasn’t right. He didn’t want to be a part of it. He wouldn’t! If only he could control his own feelings….

  Gee widened his eyes with exaggerated outrage and turned to sweep his gaze over the little girls. “You’ve all been very bad children,” he accused.

  The girls came to a standstill. They glanced nervously at each other.

  The leech-covered girl boldly inched closer. “No, we haven’t!”

  Three of her sisters gasped in admiration. The eyeless girl was silent.

  “You caught my friend. You taped her up. And you were going to eat her!” Gee admonished.

  A small voice whimpered. It was working!

  “We’re sorry,” the eyeless girl beseeched.

  Gee looked down at the child’s face. Black tears ran from her empty sockets. “We didn’t mean to. We’ll fix it better. Don’t get mad at us. We don’t mean to be bad.” Her tone wasn’t playful. The maimed child’s lips were twisted, quivering with terror.

  Gee wondered if he’d stumbled upon their horrible cycle….

  “I’m not sorry!” the leech-child said defiantly.

  “Stop it, Sherylyne!” the sister with the slashed face pleaded. “You always get us into worse trouble!” Another child started weeping.

  “We’re trapped here. And she hurts us and she hurts us,” Sherylyne spat. “If we eat things it makes us stronger! It takes longer before she comes back. To kill us again. So we got to keep on eating because it’s not our fault! We’re going to eat your friend. Then we’re going to eat you!”

  Yesssssss. His body remembered…. A different kind of eating, before those days of m
eals with Popo, of humble greens and stir-fried tofu…. A different kind of hunger—aching, overwhelming, and the pitiful weakness that came with the need, always, until the first snap of his incredible tongue, the delicious fullness in his gullet, how everything became more solid, more real. Sweet energy, exploding through his body—

  Gee’s stomach twisted, writhed. He gasped, clamping his arms around his middle, folding over with the intensity. The hunger attacks were growing more frequent … and his will, growing weaker.

  If you eat just one of the little girls, the bad voice inside of him cajoled, you’ll have strength enough to survive. To do what you must so that you can go back home.

  Gee clamped his hands over his ears, unaware that a low moan escaped his lips. What kind of logic was that! After doing such a horrendous thing, how could he possibly go home? It was the Other’s voice. Not his own. It couldn’t be. It mustn’t…. Because that’s not the child Popo had raised. Popo could never love that other child.

  Cracker rolled off the side of the table. She sagged beneath her weight, sucking her breath in with pain, but she managed not to crumple. “Gee,” she cried. “Gee!”

  White Cat leapt out of Cracker’s pocket, landing lightly on the cold floor. “You must fight it!” the cat snarled. “Hold fast. Do not succumb to the feeling!”

  “Kitty!” the leech-girl cried. She ran toward the cat, her arms outstretched.

  White Cat sprang atop a set of shelves housing square cubbies, knocking scrolls and old newspapers onto the floor.

  “Kitty cat! Kitty cat!” the girls screamed, laughing as they ran after him.

  White Cat leapt onto a set of higher bookshelves and loped along the top, away from Gee and Cracker.

  “Kill the cat! Kill the cat!” the chasing children screeched with joy.

  “Come on,” Cracker said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Gee couldn’t stop tracking the leaping, darting movements of the little children. How easy it would be to catch one. Just a matter of whipping out his tongue. His arm. Wonderfully elastic. And, smack! His palm would stick to the back of the child’s head and he’d yank her back. What he would do….

  “Gee!” Cracker shouted. She grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and shook hard.

  Lilla stuck her head out of Gee’s collar and hissed.

  “Ugh!” Cracker instinctively backed away—right into the child with no eyes.

  “Got you!” the little girl crowed, wrapping both arms around Cracker’s skinny waist.

  In the far recesses of the Archives White Cat yowled and yowled and the roar of little girl voices rose up, triumphant.

  “Get off of me you little creep!” Cracker cried, pulling at the little girl’s arms. But the child clung tighter than a tick, giggling madly.

  Her four sisters marched back, holding White Cat aloft in their small hands. They seemed to feel no pain as White Cat slashed his claws along their hands and forearms, rending their soggy flesh.

  “Do something!” Cracker shouted at Gee.

  Gee stared helplessly. He could use his Half World powers, but if he started down that path he’d put himself at terrible risk of not being able to control them. What if he ended up doing the unconscionable?

  The image of Popo’s crinkled face, her keen bright eyes—the only person who’d always met his gaze—formed, unbidden, in his mind. She looked so real, so close, that his heart spasmed with emotion.

  You’re a good boy.

  The sound of her voice filled him up with a warm, wondrous light. A good boy….

  Was he hearing her voice because she’d died?

  No.

  He didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t! Gee took a step toward the eyeless girl.

  A great clang resounded in the Archives. Someone had slammed shut the small entrance door.

  “I’m back,” an adult voice rang.

  The girls froze. Mid-stride. As if they were playing Simon Says. Their faces stiff with terror.

  “What are you naughty girls up to now?” a kindly voice asked. A slender woman wearing a smart skirt and jacket and a small pillbox hat pinned pertly to her head click-clacked down the rows of books toward the great table.

  The quintuplets screamed and screamed. The four girls dropped White Cat and the eyeless one pushed Cracker out of her arms. They began running about in different directions, skittering atop the bookshelves, scuttling across the ceiling like terrified lizards. They darted and fled like panicked prey.

  But they did not run toward the door.

  The stylish woman chased after the terrified children. She dashed about the great room, her fury terrible in her impassive face, whisking past Gee and Cracker as if they were pieces of furniture. She grabbed one girl by the arm, then another by the leg, shoving them into a sack.

  Gee was numb. The finely dressed woman didn’t seem to see them; her compulsion to capture the children was all that existed.

  “Jesus,” Cracker whispered.

  “Gather your wits!” White Cat snarled as he bolted for the door.

  Gee shook his head. He grabbed Cracker’s arm and began running after the cat.

  A small white hand clutched Gee’s wrist.

  Most of the child’s fingernails were ripped away and the bloodless flesh was soft and spongy. Gee looked at the child’s face. Looked past the squirming black leeches and saw the terror and hope in the little girl’s eyes.

  Gee swallowed. “Come with us,” he finally offered.

  Black tears swelled in the corner of her eyes. Sorrowfully, she shook her head.

  “This is the part when we die,” she said tearfully. “Then it will start all over again.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What are you saying?” Gee whispered.

  “Who’s there?” the beautiful woman called out. She blinked nearsightedly in their direction but seemed to see only the child. “To whom are you talking, Sherylyne?”

  The little girl gulped her sob.

  Gee didn’t think. He wrapped his arms around the girl, lifted her up and draped her over his shoulder. She flopped, a dead weight, as they ran toward the door.

  Lilla slid out of his T-shirt and twirled down Gee’s arm once more. She clung, tightly looped, around his wrist. Gee extended his hand behind him so that Cracker could hold on. After a moment’s hesitation, she clasped his fingers. They stepped out into the black passageway that led back to the hotel hall.

  Gee could see a faint glow around White Cat. Or was it an afterglow? Whatever it was it kept Gee from walking into the walls.

  From behind them the little girls’ shrieks were punctuated by the icily enunciated words of the beautiful woman. “Never keep the door unlocked,” she declared. “How many times must you be told? Never let the moths inside. Never play until your chores are completed. Never cry. Never try to run away from me. Must I tell you every day? Every goddamn day and you never listen! Never! Never!”

  One by one the girls’ voices became silent. All that was left was Cracker’s rasping breath. The jangle of her boot buckles.

  The little girl flopped too loosely against Gee’s shoulder, growing heavier with each step.

  “Sherylyne!” the woman’s cheery voice called from the doorway. “Where have you gone, you naughty little girl?”

  Would she start chasing them, too? With her hideous sack?

  Gee and Cracker caught up to White Cat, who was scratching at the door to the hotel hallway. Gee pushed it open and the cat dashed through, Cracker and Gee following right behind. They spilled into the light, blinking blindly.

  Cracker pulled the door shut. Spun toward White Cat. “That was the worst idea ever!” she cried. “What were you thinking?”

  White Cat’s tail lashed, once, and he turned his head slightly to the side. “It’s not like I recruited the new archivist,” he said drolly. His ears briefly flattened.

  Gee wondered if that was a non-verbal apology or an insult.

  “We’re no closer to finding my sister,” Cracker whispe
red. “And now we’ve got an extra kid, to top it off….” She shook her head wearily. “I still haven’t had a drink of water.” She grimaced, an expression twisting between a smile and a sob. Her adrenalin burnt up, she looked ready to drop.

  “I thought the archivist could help us,” White Cat muttered. “An archivist helped Melanie. At the very least, I thought there’d be a map, not homicidal cannibal children. Sorry if I overlooked that possibility. How short-sighted of me.”

  “Those maps were useless!” Cracker said. “Every single one of them! They were all maps of Half World, but none of them were the same. Even the directions were different! Every single map was entirely different!”

  “Well, now we can surmise that everyone has created their own version of Half World,” White Cat sniffed. “We’ve learned something important.”

  “But how do I find my sister?” Cracker cried.

  A twinge of resentment needled inside Gee’s chest. All Cracker ever talked about was her sister. As if she didn’t have any thoughts about his reasons for being there. And here he was, spending time and energy to save her life, when he could be that much closer to finding his own parents. Her presence meant more work for him. If he didn’t have to worry about her, he’d be that much closer to going home.

  Gee shifted the child to cradle her in his arms. He stared at her slack face, repulsed by the clinging leeches. Cracker was right about one thing: he’d added another burden. He could just leave the child in the hallway. It wasn’t his concern, anyway…. It wasn’t as though he’d killed the girls. The archivist had.

  She was heavy. Her weight seemed to be growing. Like the Japanese youkai that feigned at being a baby. Crying for aid until some fool picked it up. And then it latched on, growing heavier and heavier, until it killed the nosy do-gooder dead….

  Gee awkwardly repositioned the girl in his arms. Eyes rolled completely white, the girl’s head flopped loosely on her neck. Her mouth slack.

  She was dead.

  Gee sank to his knees and lowered the little girl to the floor.