Bridge Between the Worlds

by R. B. L. Gillmore

  They almost literally jumped in the air when the silence was shattered by a loud crash from down an alleyway, a piercing clang of metal, and a distinctive verbal curse.

  Martay and Amy stood rooted to the spot. Their hearts were racing and normally they would have hurried away. But something kept them where they were, almost against their wills. They peered down the alley, listening intently to the sound of approaching footsteps which were mingled with a long string of grumbling complaints. The source of the noise was muttering unceasingly under its breath.

  Martay finally made a move to leave but Amy grabbed him by the arm and stopped him. Something in her mind told her to wait. She no longer felt a sense of fear. Instead she felt expectant, knowing that something was about to happen but that it wasn’t anything bad. Somehow, she was sure she was meant to be here.

  A shadowy figure loomed up out of the darkness. The figure would have been intimidating if it wasn’t for the fact that it was still muttering like an unhappy drunkard. This was unusual though because as it came on, they realised that the figure was tiny, about the height of a small child at most. It wasn’t a child. It wasn’t even human, that much was abundantly clear. It had long pointed ears that sloped back from its head like the horns of a goat. At any other time, its silhouette would have baffled Amy and Martay but they recognized it immediately. They had just been watching a figure like this shuffling around in front of them, muttering complaints and curses about his wizard master. As it came out of the alleyway and stepped into the light of a street lamp, its facial features were revealed and their guesses were confirmed.

  Amy and Martay were in disbelief. Its face was like that of an old man with a long, hooked nose and wrinkled skin. But its skin was a greenish yellow, not at all like any humans. It also had piercing red eyes. It was, without question, the Imp from the movie they had just seen.

  Amy breathed in sharply and the imp looked up at the noise with a very fast and precise movement, not at all in fitting with its lumbering shuffle so far. The two parties stood dead still, observing each other until finally the imp rolled his eyes and burst into a tirade of barely comprehensible chatter.

  “Ohhhh bugger, another pair o’ stunned mullets! What’s wrong with you little beasts these days, every single one o’ ya shocked to see an imp, as if fairy tale creatures are something you’ve never seen before. I mean honestly, it’s like ya don’t even read books anymore! Complete lack of imagination! This is why I ‘ate working this side o’ reality, not a single bit o’ recognition or understanding from anyone. Well, would ya shut your bloody mouths, yer going to start drooling in a minute if ya keep your gobs wide open like that and besides didn’t yer parents ever tell you it was rude to stare.”

  Martay and Amy quickly stopped gawking and glanced at each other as if to check that the other was seeing and hearing the same thing. It was reassuring for them to see they were both equally surprised. Amy had been waiting for something but she certainly hadn’t expected this.

  “Sorry,” Amy began, “but it’s not exactly normal to see a… an imp. Because you see, you’re… well… you’re not really supposed to exist. Or, I mean, you only exist in books and movies. Not in the real world.”

  “I’m not supposed to exist?” retorted the imp sharply and let out a strange kind of laugh, “A human on this side of reality tellin’ me that I’m not supposed to exist! Now that’s what I call irony! Haha! Very good, very good and thank you for the entertainment but I’m very busy so if ya could kindly stop existing ‘ere and now that’d be truly spiffing.”

  Amy didn’t know what to say. The imp’s last comments were so bizarre she didn’t really know which question she should ask it first. Martay however had finally found his voice.

  “Ummm, how is it ironic? Ask anyone around here if imps really exist, I promise every single one will be shocked half to death just at the sight of you!”

  The imp rolled its eyes in an extremely exasperated kind of way.

  “Ohhh yeeaahh, ‘ow very clever of you, ya tall, wise, all knowing example o’ human knowledge and intelligence. Ask someone if I’m meant to exist! As if that wasn’t contradictory enough to be a redundant statement, let me entertain the thought. Well, mister smarty pants? If ya can find someone I’ll gladly introduce myself!”

  “I will then!” replied Martay before turning to look for someone so that he could put the imp in his place. Martay didn’t really like him. However, looking around showed that their surroundings were completely and utterly deserted. There wasn’t even a sound of distant traffic, and that was wrong in such a big, busy city, even at this hour. A look of doubt spread over Martay's face whilst an evil looking smirk spread across the face of the imp. He rather enjoyed putting humans in their place. This was by no means the first person to try and tell him that he couldn’t be real despite the overwhelming evidence of his actually being there which proved them wrong.

  “Straaaange innit!” cackled the imp, enjoying the moment, “suddenly yer not so sure of yaself.”

  Martay tried not to seem daunted and started to laugh. “You know what? You’re right! It’s far more likely that I’m just dreaming! That would also explain your existence easily enough too.”

  “Yes, yes it would,” replied the imp, impatient again. The boy had worked it out faster than most and he enjoyed watching them struggle with the concept. His fun was probably over so he didn’t want to waste any more time. “Now, if ya could please just get on with it and wake up, yer wasting my time!”

  Amy finally cut in.

  “Wait!” she exclaimed loudly. The whole world went silent, the snow stopped falling, suspended motionless in the air.

  “You’re right. I don’t think that this is the real world. I think we are dreaming. But you…” she said pointing at the imp, “you don’t fit in. You’re different because…” she took a slow step towards the imp, staring at him intently, “because you ARE real.”

  The imp stopped smirking. He stared at Amy suspiciously. This was no normal girl and whatever she was, it immediately frightened him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before saying, “No, no like ya said, I’m not supposed to exist. This is all just a dream and yer about to wake up in yer warm fluffy beds.”

  Amy ignored him and took another step closer.

  “You’re the only real thing here aren’t you? You look more real to me than the back of my own hand!” As she said it, she reached out and touched him on the shoulder. Her whole body suddenly blazed with heat. A golden glow surrounded both her and the imp whilst the rest of the world faded to black. The imp’s face was twisted in a look of pure terror.

  “Who are ya? What are ya doin’ to me? Stop it!!” Then all was darkness.

  Amy rolled over as the alarm woke her up. She had forgotten to disable it for the weekend and was very annoyed that she had been woken up so much earlier than necessary. It was still dark and she blindly tried to find the clock with her outstretched hand. Eventually she felt it under her fingers and with a sigh of relief, clicked the alarm off again.

  “About bloody time! That stupid thing was driving me crazy, I mean who enchants a stupid clock to beep and whistle like that in the mornin’? It’s almost like ya hate sleep or something! Bloody human thing to do Bill, ya know I worked all night!”

  The bizarre little voice coming from down on the ground somewhere had Amy bolt upright and more awake than any alarm could ever have achieved. She sought desperately for the light switch. The voice had not sounded threatening and whoever it was hadn’t been leaning over her or anything like that, but anyone would get a fright if they woke up to a stranger’s voice in their bedroom in the dark. After a rapid but clumsy search there was another click and light filled the lamp’s bulb.

  “Bill ya insufferable…” the imp on Amy’s floor rolled over to look for the source of his annoyance with a bleary, half open eye. When it finally came to rest on Amy’s face looking down at him, it was his turn to be shocked into wakefulness.

  “Who
the hell are you!?”

  “Who the hell are you!?”

  Both the imp and Amy had cried out with the same question at the same time.

  The imp scrambled backwards away from Amy until his head ungracefully hit the wall and he came to a stop. He was babbling semi-incoherently the whole time, only occasionally managing to form a legible word such as ‘how’, ‘where’, ‘who’ and ‘what’. Amy watched him with unblinking eyes which were as wide as she could possibly have opened them. She couldn’t speak for shock but slowly raised her arm and pointed at the imp who took no notice. She was shaking slightly and eventually found her voice again.

  “You… you… you….” She struggled just to get this out. “I actually created you?”

  It was a question, not a statement, though it wasn’t directed at the imp in particular.

  “But… but… you’re just… a mythological… creature. You’re a living thing, I never thought I could create a… a, I don’t know, something living!”

  The imp was just as wide-eyed as Amy and wouldn’t take them off her. He was breathing very fast and his heart was almost visibly pounding in his chest. The two of them sat in silence for a moment that felt like eternity.

  “Who the bloody hell are you?” asked the imp in a quiet and shaky little voice, not at all like it had been when he was still half asleep. “Where the hell are we?” His accent was bizarrely mixed but for the most part he sounded like a horrible attempt at a British cockney worker.

  “My name’s Amy and you’re in my bedroom.”

  This reply was, quite obviously, useless information for the imp but Amy wasn’t sure what else to say. She wanted to know who he was too but another question was more pressing on her mind.

  “Do you remember anything about… about how you got here?”

  “Stupid bloody ‘uman children. ‘You’re in my bedroom,’” the Imp said, mimicking Amy’s voice. “I can see that I am in ya bloody bedroom but where exactly is that?” The imp had completely ignored Amy’s question.

  “In Budapest,” she replied, and then, after a little thought added, “on earth.”

  The imp’s eyes which were already wide open seemed somehow to grow larger. There was an obvious catch in his breath.

  “Impossible,” he whispered to himself, “no one could do that. Not even…” he paused, thinking, then his eyes suddenly narrowed in a look of deep suspicion. “Hold up runt, hold up, what did ya say ya full name was?” Amy knew a loaded question when she heard one but she couldn’t see any harm in answering this. “Amriel Szekeres.” She replied simply.

  “Hmm,” came the response. The imp seemed somewhat relieved, though still very suspicious. “Well that doesn’t bloody well explain how I got here but at least it means there’s still a chance this is just a bloody awful dream. Anyway, come to think of it yer much too young anyway, aren’t ya, ya little scrubber. I can see it in yer eyes.”

  Amy had no idea what that was supposed to mean but she found it slightly offensive.

  “I’m not that young! Besides what does that matter?” She didn’t wait for a response before shaking herself like someone still half asleep trying to bring themselves back to their senses. “Anyway, I answered your question, now you answer mine. Do you remember anything about how you got here?”

  “Well o’ course I do!” replied the imp. His tone was neither harsh nor condescending but it was clear that he felt this was an odd and perhaps pointless question. However, as he was about to continue he realised this wasn’t entirely true. “That is… I remember everything up until ya grabbed me by the shoulder. I don’t really know what happened after that. I do remember being surrounded by a kind o’ golden light, then nothing.”

  The conversation was beginning to relax a bit as the two of them understood that the other was just as confused and harmless. The imp got to his feet and Amy got out of bed and started looking for some clothes.

  “So,” began the imp, “this is earth. How peculiar. It feels properly strange. Ya really can’t feel the magic here! I mean, even if ya know that yer not supposed to feel the magic here, it’s hard to imagine what that must be like.”

  Amy spun around to face him again when he said this. “Wait, wait wait! You mean you can actually do magic Mr…ahhhh…”

  Amy wasn’t sure how best to proceed here. She didn’t even know if the imp actually had a name. Nevertheless, asking what he was instead of who he was would have been an embarrassing and offensive mistake. Thankfully the imp answered her before she could say anything further.

  “Snipping Ratchet,” he replied, “and the answer is I don’t actually know. I haven’t tried yet have I. Can you do magic?”

  “Well, of course not,” she answered, “nobody can actually do real magic!”

  This time Snipping didn’t look altogether surprised. “That stands to reason. How could anyone use magic if ya can’t even hear magic’s voices here?”

  “What do you mean, ‘hear its voices’?” Amy shot back.

  She had finally found a pair of jeans and a shirt that she was happy with but hesitated, holding them up awkwardly, giving Snipping Ratchet an uncomfortable look. He smirked, rolled his eyes and then turned around and faced the wall so that she could change in privacy. His reply to her question sounded very bemused.

  “Ya know, I think I could come to like you miss Amriel. Yer so naïve it’s almost like being with a baby. But without the drawbacks like crying, screaming and defecating everywhere. This could be good fun!”

  “You realise that’s extremely rude, don’t you?”

  “Well I didn’t mean it to be polite now did I! At the same time though, I don’t mean it to be offensive. I’ve never understood why humans are so anti-honesty. You’ll go to the ends of the earth, as you say, to avoid telling each other the truth openly. And for what? Anyway, if ya want me to be more polite then I’ll add that whilst most ‘umans are just downright stupid, I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying that yer really ignorant. There is a difference.”

  He turned around and was wearing a smile which Amy, to her surprise, interpreted as something akin to affection. She was glad about that, not that it had anything to do with her feelings. She knew he at least wasn’t going to just run away, and that was critically important. Amy wanted to approach this matter delicately. She knew it would be downright dangerous for him to be seen, not just for his own sake. She didn’t think it was likely anyone would actually harm him but he would definitely be caught and held for questioning, and research, and would almost certainly draw attention back to her. That was something she didn’t want just yet. But what could she do? She began with the most obvious question she could think of.

  “So, do you think there is any way you can get back to where you come from?”

  Snipping’s smile faded and there was a heavy pause before he answered.

  “Nahhhh…” he said in a long drawn out and thoughtful way. “At least not in theory. It’s meant to be impossible for an entity in one o’ the physical worlds to permanently return to my reality. Then again…” he cocked an eyebrow and stared unblinkingly into Amy’s eyes, “It’s also meant to be impossible in theory for an entity in my reality to be drawn into one o’ the physical worlds. Yet here I am. I should very much like to find out ‘ow that ‘appened.”

  Something about his accent, juxtaposed against his clearly bright intellect, made him all the more surreal. At the very least she now knew that Snipping was going to stick to her for answers, at least for a while, but she had no intention of telling Snipping about her new-found ability. She didn’t know anything about him, or if she could trust him yet. She tried to act as though she knew nothing about how he had gotten here, hoping he hadn’t paid attention to her earlier question about creating him.

  “Well, until you find out more we need to keep you hidden somehow. An imp isn’t exactly a common sight here. I’m not sure what people would do if they saw you but it probably wouldn’t be good.”

  Snipping cocke
d his head to one side as he examined her features and processed what she had said.

  “I believe yer right. If people react anything like they do in dreams it could cause me trouble.” After saying this he closed his eyes tight and furrowed his brow for a moment before relaxing again and adding, “Yes indeed, could definitely cause me trouble.”

  Amy looked at him rather incredulously in response to this odd behaviour and her look alone was enough to encourage a response.

  “Ya asked me if I could do magic here. Well, I have just tried and the answer is definitely no.”

  “What was it you tried to do exactly?”

  Snipping had already begun heading for the door as he replied, “Oh, set ya bed on fire.”

  He opened the door deftly and headed out of the room. Amy followed as quickly as she could, taken aback by his sudden, bold action.

  “Wait! Where are you going? I thought you agreed you shouldn’t be seen?”

  Snipping didn’t slacken his pace and continued making his way toward the stairs.

  “I do agree but I’m hungry and the two people who were downstairs earlier have just left, so I’m goin’ to find ya kitchen and get somethin’ to eat.”

  “How can you possibly know that they’ve left? Wait… how did you even know that there was two…”

  “I could hear two people movin’ about and mumblin’ to each other.”

  As they made their way to the kitchen, which Snipping seemingly found without trouble by following his nose, Amy took a look into the entry hall where Snipping’s statement was confirmed as correct. Her parents’ coats were missing. She continued and found Snipping with his head buried deep inside the refrigerator, rummaging through the contents. He had soon extracted a plethora of items and began cooking with a skill and focus that was almost professional. He hopped about the kitchen for nearly an hour before he carefully arranged the meal on to two plates.

  “Do you always cook like this?” Amy had been watching in silence, only because when she had tried to talk to Snipping the only response she had received was non-committal grunts.