by Matthew Fish
“What is this place,” Ethan says as he shines the flashlight to the passage on the left.
As the light reaches the passage, a concrete staircase leads up to ceiling. However, there is no exit. It simply goes up and into a slab of grey concrete.
“I know what this is,” Ethan says as he shines the light to the staircase. “Back when this was a farm, this is probably where they brought down supplies or crops for storage.”
“I’m glad that one of us does,” Emma whispers.
Ethan shines his light to the passage on the right. A large room is spread out before them. There is nothing of interest, just an empty brick room. Upon the floor, near the entrance, a pile of broken bricks lies next too what appears to be the remains of a doorframe.
“This is strange,” Ethan says as he shines the light on the ruined door. “It looks like this had a door on it, but they covered it up with brick—kind of like a false door.”
“Like a room to hide things?” Emma asks as she keeps her distance. The entire experience, although altogether interesting, is causing a huge spike in her anxiety.
“Or to hide people,” Ethan says as he steps in and shines the light around the large room. “You’ve heard of the underground railroad right?”
“Of course,” Emma says as she steps in reluctantly. “Everyone leans that in school—a system of safe houses and hidden passages fugitive slaves could take to eventually find safety…to be free.”
“That is the most I believe you’ve said to me all night,” Ethan says as he nods. “I believe that this is…part of that.”
“I had no idea,” Emma says as she looks around the room.
“This is an amazing find,” Ethan adds. “This is history.”
“Where do you think the rest of the hall leads to?” Emma asks as she looks back to the entrance and nervously rubs her elbows with her hands.
“You want to walk the rest of the way down and see?” Ethan asks as he shines the light ahead.
“I suppose…” Emma answers simply. She still does not know whether to take the comment that she has not said much as an insult or not. She did not mean to be so short; she just does not know how to be around people…at least, people that are not clones of her. “I would like to see where it leads.”
“Alright then,” Ethan says as he leads the way.
“I do like talking to you,” Emma blurts out as a short amount of time passes by in silence.
Ethan lets out a laugh as he turns to Emma and smiles. “I’m glad. Was that comment bothering you? I didn’t mean…”
“I’m just not great around people,” Emma interrupts. “I’ve been very isolated.”
“I remember, after your mother passed, that my father was worried about you,” Ethan says as he turns and continues to travel down the hallway. “Your mother worked with my father for about fifteen years. He regarded her, and you, as family.”
“How much do you know about me?” Emma asks, pressing to see if Ethan has any knowledge about her breakdown and subsequent condition where she believed she was someone else.
“Just that...you had a lot of bad things happen,” Ethan spoke as he walked onward. “That all those bad things eventually led to you cutting off ties with everyone—shortly after your mother’s funeral you cut contact with my father. He always understood why. I mean I could not imagine losing so much and being around people that reminded me of what I’ve lost.”
“I felt that way,” Emma admits. However, she keeps the fact that she still feels that way a secret from Ethan.
“Which is totally understandable,” Ethan says. “He is just happy that you’ve come out of it—how did you do it?”
“It took a lot of time,” Emma replies, she leaves out the part where her self-imposed imprisonment was reprieved with force and against her will. “I had been doing better before, it was just slow—then I woke up today and it was much easier to do things. It’s still not easy. I don’t know that it ever will be.”
“Trying though,” Ethan says as he pauses. “That’s the accomplishment. Just the fact that you did not give up is amazing. I can’t even say that I’d be able to be that strong.”
“I’m not strong.”
“Looks like we’ve reached the end of it,” Ethan says as he places his hand upon an old wooden door. “Let’s find out what’s at the end of this little adventure?”
“Yeah,” Emma says quietly as she braces herself for anything. Ethan calls it an adventure, but to Emma it feels more like a nightmare—even though nothing bad has happened. She does appreciate his company; she just does not like the circumstances. After all, if Elizabeth led her here it must mean something. There has to be some horrible truth that exists at the end.
As Ethan opens up the door a staircase is revealed beyond the earthy old door. This staircase, however, leads somewhere. Ethan begins to ascend the stairs. The light from his beam is greeted by a multitude of reflections.
“What is this place?” Ethan asks as the light refracts as though he is shining the beam upon a giant gemstone.
“A greenhouse,” Emma says as a flash of memory seeps into her mind. She remembers being little, running through the large forest. She has stumbled upon this place before. A large glass greenhouse, its windows stained with dirt, neglected.
“It’s amazing,” Ethan says as he shines the light around the large room. “I wonder if this is the one my dad fixed up…although it doesn’t look so great.”
There are no plants in the greenhouse, just piles of stacked empty pots. A desk sits in the far corner of the room by the large glass doors. A bed sits at the far side of the wall. A tree branch has broken through and covers the bed like a makeshift canopy. Water drips in through cracks in the glass.
“I had forgotten about this place,” Emma whispers.
“Well you had a lot on your mind,” Ethan says as he turns to Emma and smiles. “At least you know it is here now.”
“Thank you,” Emma says as she nods. She plans on returning, perhaps in the daytime. Maybe it will bring back more memories—perhaps Emma will come to understand why Elizabeth wanted her to find this place.
“I should be heading back,” Ethan says as he shines the flashlight down to his wristwatch. “I have to be at a house I’m working on at six tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Emma says simply as she follows Ethan back down the stairs and into the dark hallway. The return trip goes by much more quickly. There is no fear.
As Ethan stands by the door to leave, Emma reaches into her purse and pulls out a wad of cash. She pulls out three-hundred dollars and attempts to hand it to Ethan.
“I can’t take your money,” Ethan says as he pushes it back into Emma’s hands.
“You did your job, just like you said,” Emma says as she attempts once more to pay Ethan.
“It was fun,” Ethan says as he smiles. “How about instead of paying me—you meet me for dinner tomorrow night after I get off work?”
“I…” Emma says nervously. She thinks of saying no. She wants to say no. However, she realizes that would be rude. She does not know Ethan that well, but she does possess something of an attraction for him. He seems kind.
“It’s okay if you aren’t ready,” Ethan says, noticing the passage of time without a response.
“I want to go,” Emma finally says as she twitches her lip nervously as though she has just made a rash decision she was unwilling to make. “I just haven’t been to a restaurant in…forever.”
“I know a place,” Ethan begins. “It doesn’t get a lot of traffic if you get there after like eight or so. If it’s people you’re nervous to be around, then we could go then…if you want?”
“I think I can handle that,” Emma says a bit more confidently.
“I’ll pick you up around eight then?”
“Yes.”
“Have a good night Emma.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” Emma blurts as he begins to leave.
“I’m sorry?” Ethan re
peats in confusion.
“On the phone,” Emma adds. “I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
“Oh, don’t even worry about that,” Ethan says as he shakes his head and laughs. “I didn’t even think about it.”
“Oh,” Emma replies, her cheeks grow red with embarrassment.
“Goodnight Emma,” Ethan repeats.
“Goodnight… Ethan.”
*
Day 2
Chapter 3: Depression and Sorrow
Emma steps over the threshold and enters the familiar brick hallway that she discovered earlier. The faint smell of old water fills her nostrils. A light at the far end illuminates the tunnel that appears to stretch on forever. Steam rises from the concrete floor. The air is humid and sticky.
A noise, the sound of something metallic being dropped onto the concrete floor, comes off from the corner.
“Hello?” Emma quietly asks. The sound of dripping water and the faint echo of wind through the hallway is the only response she receives.
As Emma reaches the intersection she looks to the staircase that reaches the concrete ceiling. She shudders as a strange feeling that she is being watched washes over her. She looks down to the ground and finds the source of the noise earlier. A silver blade with crimson stains of blood lies against the ground, a small pool of blood around its edge. Despite her better judgment telling her to leave it alone, Emma picks up the knife. The handle is intricately carved with a rose at its base. The blade of the long knife has an etched vine that extends all the way to the tip. The letters ‘SOL’ are engraved on the blade close to where it meets the handle. The knife has a significant weight to it. It is somehow familiar—besides being the blade that one of her others stabbed her with in a nightmare the day before.
“It’s mine bitch!” A wretched voice yells from behind her as she is struck down to the floor. Her head erupts in pain as she is dragged into the large empty room across from the stairs that lead to nowhere.
Emma attempts to turn, to view her attacker—however; she is unable to do so. Another blow to her head sends her face down against the hot concrete floor. Everything turns black. Her vision is gone. She can hear the sounds of people screaming all around her.
“Help…” Emma whimpers a she attempts to make sense of the situation.
A hand grabs her leg as another restrains her wrist. They burn her to the touch as she screams out in pain.
“Leave me alone!” Emma shouts as she flails about blindly attempting to strike her fists against her attackers. She kicks away at the hand at her leg until, with a sickening crushing noise, it is cast away. She gets to her feet, her hand still retrained by burning fingers. She begins to kick violently at the hand that holds her wrist. Another scream resounds through the hallway as she is free. She begins to run, her hands outstretched. She comes into contact with the brick wall and begins to use it as a guide.
Her eyes slowly attempt to make out a form ahead of her in the darkness. Her vision is slowly returning. She continues to run straight ahead as the terrible sounds of screaming is heard all around her. The air here is so hot that it burns her lungs. Her bare feet scorch in agony with each footfall. Her vision completely returns as she runs into Ethan near the end of the hallway.
“Ethan…” Emma cries as she reaches out for him. “Help me.”
A strange grin grows over Ethan’s usually kind face as he pulls his arms back. In a split second Emma notices the sledgehammer in his hands. Everything turns slow—painfully long. She raises her hands to defend herself from the blow. However, it is far too late for that. She takes the full brunt of the blow to the chest and is sent flying back down the hallway.
Everything is turned. She is not flying back, but falling down. Blood sprays out from her chest and fills the air around her. It falls around her and sprays her face like warm rain. As Emma falls she begins to turn, she faces the wall at the bottom of her descent. A chalk picture of the sun is drawn on the spot that she will eventually, painfully, land.
“Fuck!” Emma shouts as she jumps up. Her head pounds out in agony. She reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand beside her bed and drinks the entire bottle at once.
“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” A calm voice asks.
Emma jumps again, startled, as she is faced with a familiar sight. Sitting at the far edge of her bed is Elizabeth. She has her arms wrapped around her legs as though she is mimicking the girl in the painting that hands near the bed.
“Yes,” Emma says as she takes in a heavy breath and attempts to calm her anxiety. “I always die…”
“I’m sorry they bring you so much pain,” Elizabeth says as she gets up from the bed and embraces Emma. “I’ve never had a nightmare—I don’t know what happens to me. I suppose knowing would be worse. So in that way, I don’t envy you.”
“You would think that I would be used to them by now,” Emma says as she calms her breathing. “I guess you never get over dying in your dreams.”
“There are only six nights left…” Elizabeth whispers, “If that is of any consolation to you.”
“It…It really isn’t,” Emma says as she shakes her head and wipes away the sweat from her forehead. “How are you feeling—was the storm last night painful?”
“You are such a strange girl,” Elizabeth says as she begins to head towards the door then pauses to look at the new paiting. “Does that picture make you happy?”
“I like it, so yes,” Emma replies.
“Out of all the colorful things,” Elizabeth says as she shakes her head. “You bring back the most depressing one.”
“You see depressing?” Emma asks.
“What do you see?”
“Something hopeful,” Emma says as she turns and looks to the girl in the picture. Of course she is expressing sadness; however, there is a sense that hope exists as well.
“I’ll start on breakfast while you have a shower and get dressed,” Elizabeth says as she looks to Emma and stares at her blankly.
“Why do you do things for me?” Emma asks. She does not understand this relationship. Elizabeth was sent here to warn her—to show Emma her true self, to ultimately tell Emma that she was responsible for the end of the world, and apparently, to take care of her and feed her. “I don’t understand why you help me?”
“I just feel it is my purpose,” Elizabeth says as she begins to leave once more.
“Wait…”
“Yes?”
“Please tell me what you know—you claim to not know anything, but you know where I should be to meet certain people. You tell me about thing I need to find,” Emma pleads to the figure that continues to face away from her. “Please just tell me what the point of it all is?”
“I don’t know that there is a point,” Elizabeth whispers sadly. She turns to face Emma as a tear begins to fall from her eye.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Do you know how it feels to not understand why you exist? To know that you were sent to deliver bad news to someone who is kind to you when they should not be? To not know how to stop…” Elizabeth begins as she pauses to allow herself to continue the conversation in a more composed manner. “I only know things—when it wants me to. Take from that what you will. As, honestly, it is all I have to offer. I have questions—do I cease to exist when the sun is not present? Will I also burn away on that seventh day? I don’t know where I go when I’m not here, but I know that I am afraid of it.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been selfish,” Emma says as she attempts to hold back tears. “This is entirely my fault. I have time still—perhaps, maybe I can stop it. There has to be a way.”
“If there is one thing I know with certainty, and I wish I didn’t…” Elizabeth says as she begins to walk away once more. “You can’t stop it, you can only face it.”
*
Emma turns the water off in the shower as she steps out and wraps a towel around herself. She eyes the curtain rod, a silver colored length of metal. It is probably not a
ctually metal; her mother would not replace it with something that Emma could harm herself with again. A shiver runs down her spine as the memory of choking flashes in her mind. Emma walks from the bathroom and follows the stairs up to her the attic.
Through the window the morning sun looks brighter than normal. Emma wonders if this is just the beginning—or is it just coincidence that it is getting hotter, and will be getting even warmer, as the week progresses? Emma roots through the closet as she removes the damp towel from her naked body. Her mind set on what to wear, she nonchalantly tosses the towel over the old sofa beneath the window.
“Do you mind?” A female voice asks.
Emma grasps the door handle of the closet as she curiously peeks from behind its small sanctuary. There, against the old fuscous, sun bleached couch—sits a young woman in a white dress. “Elizabeth, you nearly scared the shit out of me.”
“Not Elizabeth,” The clone says as she folds her legs and rests her fist against the edge of her chin.
Realizing she is naked, and feeling vulnerable once again, Emma ignores this new visitor as she picks out clothing and quickly dresses.
“It’s not like its nothing I haven’t already seen,” the voice replies with a short laugh.
“I just…” Emma says as she inches the door shut and gazes upon the new version of her. “I’m not comfortable with being naked in front of anyone in general.”
“Instead of the sun, right…?”
“That was the old me,” Emma says as she shakes her head. “I’m not into that anymore.”
“I am.”
“Who are you?” Emma asks as she curiously looks at this new girls face. There is something different about her that Emma cannot quite place. After a moment she realizes, it is the eyes—this new girl has her old cloudy blue eyes.
“Alexis,” the girls speaks softly as she stretches her arms out wide and lies against the couch allowing the sunlight to cover her barely clothed form.
Emma stumbles back at the mention of the name. Although, she begins to realize that her old self did not merely just disappear. As odd as this turn of events was, she should have expected it. At this point, she should expect just about anything odd that could happen.
