Ancient Awakening (The Ancient)

by Matthew Bryan Laube

In her dreams, all she could hear were the drums.

  All she could see was darkness.

  All she could feel were the snake’s dry scales against her flesh.

  Ann woke with a start and thrashed wildly about the bed, trying to break free before realizing she was alone on her couch in her living room. Safe. The dream faded quickly. Her head pounded and her stomach again had that tightness that had been so common of late, the feeling that her muscles were twisted in knots. Enough with the nightmares!

  “Ugh,” she said to herself, “No more all-night movie marathons for me.” She had inflicted herself with some modern Sci-Fi channel “classics,” including “Girlsquito” and “Raptor vs. Rattlesnake,” in an all-night girl geek-out with her friend Lizzie. It was not a typical girly thing to do, but Lizzie was hardly typical, and of late Ann couldn’t handle sappy dramas. So, bad sci-fi it was. Ann was not supposed to drink, as she was taking large dosages of antibiotics to help fight off Lyme disease, but Kahlua mudslides were required to deal with such terrible movies. Her head spun and her stomach churned, reminding her far too late just how bad of an idea it had all been. It had been fun while it lasted, but she was going to pay for it today. She struggled off the couch and headed to the shower.

  Lizzie was apparently long gone, off to do God knew what. Lizzie was a computer programmer who had struck it rich years ago with some minor but useful piece of software and now drifted through life doing whatever she pleased. She liked to slum with her poor student friends from time to time, and as long as Lizzie was buying the drinks...

  Ann quickly showered and dressed. After a quick glance, she studied herself more carefully in the mirror. She was a short girl with long blond hair, and was far, far too skinny, according to her friends and family. Now though, looking in the mirror, she looked old, her face swollen and puffy. Her hair just did not want to lie correctly. It shot off in random directions, giving her the “stuck a fork in an electrical outlet” look. She fiddled with it for a long time before giving up and just forcing it into a long ponytail.

  She managed to down some toast without vomiting up a lung and used some day-old coffee to knock down yet another horse-sized dose of her meds, plus a handful of Motrin. She spent a minute just staring out of the one nice part of her tiny seventh-floor apartment - a large window through which she could make out most of the New York City skyline. Then, grabbing her coat and her phone, she was off to another fun-filled day at the lab.

  Outside it was a clear, cool spring day in Newark. The sun did little to lift Ann’s spirits and she dug in the pockets of her oversized coat for her emergency hangover sunglasses. For two years now, Ann had been a full time PhD student at the College of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey (CMDNJ), studying biology. It saddened her to think that her whole academic career had been built around her high-school boyfriend, Keith, who was a doctor. He had dumped her just six months ago, leaving her somewhat adrift in life. That was, of course, until last week, when sparks flew between them again, leading to what she hoped wasn’t just a one-night stand.

  She checked her phone. Keith had not returned her calls, or her emails, or her text messages. It had been a full week! The jerk could at least let her know he had made it home okay. Was Keith really so cruel that he would do this to her again? Their first breakup had been devastating, tearing her whole life into tatters. Well, that wasn't going to do. If she was going to be miserable, so was he. He worked just across the street in the College Hospital emergency room. There was no hiding from her. During her lunch she could just drop by and have a word. “Yes,” she said aloud, a grin covering her face for the first time this morning. ”That would be just fine.” The decision made Ann begin to feel a little bit better.

  Newark was not normally the prettiest of cities. In April however, flowering trees on almost every street would come into bloom. The city itself was going through a rebirth. In recent years, a new mayor had begun turning the city around. The crime rate was down, several large office buildings were being built, and many of the older, ruined buildings were demolished. The city’s skyline seemed to change almost daily.

  Something that had not changed in the city was the homeless. One particular old, blind, and homeless black man had recently taken up residence in front of a closed-down movie theatre on Ann’s way to work. He was the strangest man Ann had ever seen. He wore a suit that was extremely old-fashioned and incredibly dirty, complete with a bow tie that at one point, many centuries ago, may have been red. On his face were dark sunglasses, hiding ruined eyes that Ann would sometimes get a glimpse of as she passed. He had a thick wooden cane always by his side as he lay sprawled out in front of the old ticket box. He must have been quite tall, as his legs seemed to go on forever, but Ann had never seen him standing. In front of his usual resting place, he had placed a ruined top hat, which held a few pieces of loose change. Next to the hat was a cardboard sign. This sign changed every day. Today, it said in shaky black ink, “I believe in angels” with a little winged stick figure. Every day he sang the same song. When Ann got close enough she dropped a dollar into the hat.

  “Good morning little sister!” he said in a low, scratchy voice.

  “Good morning,” Ann said as she passed, quickening her step a bit.

  “May I just say,” the homeless man continued, staring at nothing in particular, “you look positively radiant today.” He then laughed a low, sickly laugh. He had never said anything to her before and Ann found the whole experience creepy. She would have to find a new way to work.

  Ann arrived at the lab of Dr. Larry Conners. He was Ann's advisor and a nice guy, but a bit of a has-been. He was older, maybe in his early 50s, with just a few strands of white hair combed over in a feeble attempt to imitate a head full of hair. He was missing a large chunk of his left arm, due to an alligator incident years ago. Still, at one point he must have been someone important, because he still had funding for real cancer research.

  Entering the lab, Ann saw Wen Li, Dr. Conners’ other PhD student, talking to someone Ann didn’t know. Wen was a Chinese man of about thirty who was frustratingly intelligent. He was also always extremely happy, which made it hard not to like him. They were conversing in Spanish. Ann wondered to herself how many languages this man knew. She knew that he spoke several dialects of Chinese, perfect English, and now Spanish. She was jealous.

  Seeing her enter the room, Wen gave her a friendly wink. Attempting not to disturb the discussion, Ann went directly to her bench and began to prepare for the day’s work. She opened her lab journal and scrawled the date on a blank page. She noted that she had not actually written anything inside in several days. She promised herself she wouldn’t let Conners sere her slipping like this.

  In time, Wen and the stranger’s discussion came to a close and the slim, energetic man bounced across the floor to say hello.

  “Ann Melakh, you have killed my father, now prepare to die!” He took on a fencing stance and mimed running Ann through with a sword. Despite herself, she grinned.

  “So you liked it then?”

  “The Princess Bride? How could I not? And my daughter loved it!” Wen’s face nearly split in half with his huge smile.

  “I’m still kinda surprised that you’d never seen it,” Ann shot back.

  “Believe it or not, I have not seen every American movie ever made. Now it’s my turn to pick the movie. Have you ever heard of ‘Drunken Master?’”

  “Umm, a kung fu flick? You know I’m a girl, right?”

  Wen pulled a DVD out of his lab coat. “Try it. It’s a very young Jackie Chan. My wife says he was very hot.”

  Ann took the offered DVD between thumb and index finger, keeping it as far away from her person as possible, as if it smelled bad.

  “If you say so. Hey - what was that all about?” Ann gestured towards the place where the stranger had been. “You know Spanish?”

  “Of
course I speak Spanish. I don’t know how you function only knowing one language. And that was housekeeping.”

  “Housekeeping?”

  “Yes. It appears our employer recently fired our regular janitor. He stopped showing up to work a few days ago and the good Dr. Conners took offense.”

  “Hmmm, I had noticed it was a bit messy in here.” Ann eyed her overflowing garbage can.

  “So that was our new janitor and I was just introducing myself.”

  “In Spanish? You suck-up.”

  Wen looked a bit sheepish. “By the way, Conners was looking for you before.”

  “Really? Thanks, I’ll check in with him in a few.”

  A few minutes later, Ann slipped into Dr. Conners’ small office.

  “What can I do for you?”

  The older man looked up from his work, giving her a dry smile. “Ann, ah good. I wanted to ask how you were coming along with Dr. Dupré’s sample.”

  “The lily? I’m pretty much nowhere. It seems to be just a regular old lily. Are you sure this Dupré lady isn’t just messing with us?”

  “Oh, quite sure. Dr. Dupré was my mentor many, many years ago. She’s done some pretty amazing research. If she says that sample is something useful, then we need to take a look.”

  “She was your mentor? That must make her, like, ancient…” Ann trailed off, suddenly realizing how rude she was being. “I mean, not that you’re old. I’m just saying…”

  Conner waved a dismissive hand at her. “Don’t worry about it Ann. In truth, she does have to be getting up there. She wasn’t exactly young when she was teaching. I had expected her to retire a long time ago. Still, the research could mean some new funding for us, which is always a good thing.”

  “And she knows we don’t usually work with flowers?”

  “Ann, this is a special one-time deal, and I’m letting you take care of it for me. She’s actually coming here in person to talk about your research, so do your best with it, okay? If you get stuck, maybe ask Wen to help.”

  Ann sighed. “Of course. I’ll do my best.” She left the office.

  Back at her bench, she took out the sample and looked it over again. It appeared to be a normal lily, its petals already turning black and wrinkled. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she half remembered a nightmare about the flower. There had been something dark and sinister about it.

  She really had to lay off the late-night horror films. She placed the sample to the side. Like all great procrastinators, she planned on doing something about it later and never did.

  When noon came at last, she headed across the street to the hospital. College Hospital was a bland concrete structure with dark blue tinted windows. Ann had always wondered why people didn't make hospitals look more inviting. At least for her, they always seemed to hold a sense of dread. It probably had to do with all the dying people.

  She snuck in the ambulance entrance, something she wasn't really supposed to do, but then again, rules were for those who got caught. She had been here many times and several people knew who she was. She waved to a few EMTs on the way in and headed to the emergency room reception area. Stacy Kline was working at the front desk. A nurse in her early 40s, she had always been friendly enough.

  “Hi Stacy, is Keith around?”

  Stacy looked up from some papers she was sorting.

  “Little Ann! Long time no see. You and Keith dating again?”

  Ann blushed a bit. “Well actually sorta. At least, I thought so.” She paused, feeling a bit sheepish talking about this with someone else. “I'm actually going to try and find that out today. Is that too much information?”

  “Ah,” Stacy said with a grin, “I'm not getting involved. Just try and keep the drama off hospital grounds.”

  “Yeah, like that’s possible with the hours you people work,” Ann grinned back. “So, have you noticed him sulking about?”

  “Dr. Malone was here earlier. However,” Stacy leaned forward and lowered her voice, “don't let him know I said that.” They shared a conspiratorial grin.

  “Lab rat’s honor.” Ann waved as she took off down the hall.

  It seemed to be a really slow day, and Ann passed very few patients as she made her way through the long tangle of corridors. She glanced in each room that she passed for signs of Keith. Not seeing Keith on the first floor, she went up one flight of stairs. In one of the rooms, she noticed a friendly face.

  “Cynthia!” The plump older woman looked up from a patient’s chart.

  “Little Ann! How are you?”

  She raised her arms in the universal sign, showing that she wanted a hug from the older woman. They shared a quick embrace. Cynthia was a tech and a near-stereotypical older Irish woman. Her hair was curly red with just a bit of white mixed in, and her face was covered in freckles. She was on the plump side, free-spirited, and loved to hit the bars with her husband, Scott. Ann and Keith had gone on quite a few pub crawls with the couple but could never keep up.

  “Oh, sorry,” Ann said, noting the unconscious man on the bed.

  “Oh no worries, he’s out cold. He was admitted a few days ago. Hit by a truck and on enough drugs that he won’t be waking up for a long time. A good thing too.”

  Ann inspected the short Hispanic man. His left arm and leg were immobilized in casts that were wired in place. One of his eyes was covered and enough bandages were wrapped around his chest to give the impression of a mummy.

  “Ouch,” Ann said, “That had to hurt.” Looking at the man, she thought he looked very familiar, although she couldn't quite place him.

  “I almost socked Dr. Malone when I heard what he did to you.” Cynthia threw a punch out in the air, somewhere above Ann's head. “Men are beasts. Monsters, I tell you! But why are you here? Did he come to his senses?”

  “Well,” Ann began, “I thought so. We kinda had a thing last week…”

  “A thing, eh?” She nudged Ann in the ribs a bit and then sighed. “Ahh, to be young again.”

  “... but then nothing all week.”

  “That dog. That low dog.” Cynthia shook her head.

  “Hello ladies,” said a voice from behind. Both women jumped and turned toward the patient, who was very much awake. They stared open-mouthed at him.

  “I am sorry. Where are my manners? Was I interrupting?” he continued. His accent was strange, almost Scottish but then something else. Ann struggled to place it. It was like one of the characters from the Lord of the Rings doing a bad Sean Connery impression.

  Cynthia recovered. “Oh no sir, we were just chatting a bit. We didn't wake you, did we?”

  “Oh yes, but that is fine. I think I have been sleeping enough of late,” the man answered back. He seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time. “Would you mind telling me where I am?”

  “Of course, you’re at College Hospital in Newark.”

  “Newark?” he asked. Ann and Cynthia exchanged glances.

  “In New Jersey,” Ann offered.

  “Jersey?” The man seemed to chew the word in his mouth for a long moment. “Oh, New Jersey. In the Americas.” He put on a broad smile and grinned at the girls. “That is fine. I have not been here in, oh,” he paused, “you cannot imagine how long.”

  The Americas? Ann thought that bump on the head must have done some real damage. “Are you from Scotland?” Ann asked.

  “Oh no,” replied the man, “Africa originally, but I spent a lot of time in Scotland over the last, err, several years. Lovely place!”

  Cynthia cut in, trying to get to her job. “I should get you a doctor in here.” She keyed the intercom. “This is room 269. Can you page Dr. Black? Her patient is awake.” She looked back down at the strange man. “Sir, what’s your name, and do you have any folks that I should have a nurse contact?”

  “Oh, how rude of me. Joseph Miller, at your service, ladies.”


  Ann giggled a bit at that. There was something truly goofy about this man. Her giggle only made the man's smile broaden. “Is my name amusing to you, lass?”

  “Oh no. Sorry.” Ann looked down at the floor.

  “Mr. Miller, do you have any health insurance?” Cynthia asked.

  Miller seemed to consider this for awhile. “I don't think so. Should I?”

  “Ann, you stay here, I'm going to see if I can find Dr. Black,” Cynthia said, heading out the door. As she passed Ann she added under her breath, “and maybe get someone from the psych ward up here for this one.”

  “Umm, sure.” Ann grinned and shrugged. It wasn't like she worked here, but then this guy wasn't in any shape to hurt her or anything. “Let me know if you see Keith though!”

  With Cynthia gone, there was an awkward silence as Miller grinned at Ann.

  “Husband?” Miller offered.

  “What?”

  “This Keith fellow...”

  “Oh no, he isn't even much of a boyfriend anymore,” Ann said bitterly.

  “Fantastic,” Miller said. The grin did not move from his face. It made Ann very uncomfortable. Was he hitting on her?

  Dr. Vanessa Black entered the room, nodding a curt hello to Ann. She was a tall, dark-haired woman who was smart, sexy, witty…and a complete bitch. Ann couldn’t stand her. She was very happy to make room for her now though. It was good to put some distance between her and the strange, broken man. Doctor Black went through a series of tests, asking Miller various questions. Miller answered them all in his own vague way, suddenly seeming less playful. He stared at his doctor like a hungry wolf. Ann waited until the doctor left and then, letting some disgust creep into her voice, she said to Miller, “You really shouldn’t stare at women like that.”

  Miller seemed to jump a bit, as if switching gears in his mind. The grin reappeared on his face. “I am sorry lass, you speak true, but although it’s been a long time since I have been with a lady, you misunderstand me.”

  “Oh really?” Ann crossed her arms on her chest, trying her best to look stern.

  “Oh yes. You see, lass, that’s no woman.”

  Ann gave him a sarcastic smile. “Right…”

  Miller looked defensive.

  “She is one of the ‘Fallen.’”

  “The what?” Ann asked.

  “A demon.”

  Chapter 4 -Samson and the Wolf

  The Mark Has Been Made – Nine Inch Nails - The Fragile