Short Stories of the Horror/Bizarre

The Vastness of Reality

Category: Seventh Triad

Silent Scream

Word Count: 7,303

Walking down what was clearly a rarely used road with a gas can in my hand, I cursed myself for ever deciding to take this trip. I wanted to get away from the city for a bit, so I decided to take a lonely drive out in the country. Had I realized this particular part of the country was so devoid of people, I would have filled up my gas tank at the last stop I passed. I did not expect to get out here and there be nothing. There were no diners, no filling stations and no houses I saw anywhere since passing the last convenience store several hours ago. 

It would be a major stroke of fortune to have a car drive up about now, but I did not believe there was much of a chance of that happening. I maybe saw four other cars since reaching the foothills, and by the look of the leaves piled up on this particular road, it is not utilized very often at all. There simply did not seem to be any option available for me than to walk until I could find some help. If I waited by my car for help, I might be waiting out here for eternity. 

The roads winding through the foothills made for a much longer walk than I initially anticipated. I was used to walking the straight paths in the city, and I did not put much thought into how much longer this meandering road would make my hike. The sun was beginning to set, which I did anticipate, and I checked again to make sure my flashlight was working. I checked before ever leaving my car to be sure the batteries still had power in them. 

Things took on a more sinister tone when the sun set completely behind the hills. There was only the sliver of a waxing moon hanging in the sky, which left it amazingly dark here on the ground. I did not want to rely on my flashlight constantly. If I ended up being out here all night, I did not want my only light to go dead on me. I used it to get a look at where I was going, then shut it off as I walked for five minutes or so while doing my best to stay on the road in the dark. 

Car horns, engines revving, people whistling for cabs, these were the night sounds I was used to . As a matter of fact, I did not really even hear them anymore. It was so much a part of my everyday life. Out here though, things were different. People generally think of the peace and quiet of the countryside, but I found it to be just the opposite. I found all the insects, birds and other nocturnal animals created a loud mix of chirps and songs that haunted the night air. 

A few times I heard something howl out in the night. I assumed it must be wolves, coyotes or something similar. The cries came from far away, so I did not worry too much about being mauled by some wild animal. Still, I guess there was always that chance of encountering a carnivore in search of an easy meal. I did have my .38 revolver on my belt, which I retrieved from the glove box before departing my vehicle, so that added greatly to my feeling of safety. 

If any hungry animals did want to try to turn me in to a meal, they could easily find me. The leaves were falling from the trees, and the paved street was several inches deep with them. It was virtually impossible for me to walk without kicking leaves as I went. Walking off the side of the road was no better. Besides, there was very little if any road shoulder at all. The last thing I wanted to do was twist my ankle or worse. I remained on the leaf strewn country road but lifted my feet a bit higher as I walked in an attempt to lessen the noise I made. The extra effort did slow my pace a bit. 

The more I contemplated it, the more distressed I became that I would encounter an aggressive animal and be eaten in the middle of nowhere. I knew there were bears in the mountains, but I did not know how far down into the foothills they came. The thought of a wolf or coyote worried me enough, but once I thought about the possibility of bears, I began to grow frightened. 

It felt like I covered ten miles or so, but when I looked at my watch and saw only an hour passed since abandoning my car, I guessed it was probably much closer to five miles. I drove for hours to end up where I did. It was possible I could walk for days before I ran into anyone or found anyone who could help me. The thought of dying out here from hunger or thirst became a real fear for me extremely fast. There was no way I could walk all the way back to the last service station I passed. If no one found me, I was going to be in some real trouble. 

The temperature was nice, probably somewhere in the low 70’s, so I was not sweating from the walk. I was, although, being eaten alive by mosquitos. I never expected to be out here walking in the dark in the middle of nowhere. Since I expected to be in my car most of the time, I did not bring any mosquito repellant with me. I knew I would be covered in itchy red welts by the time I finally returned to civilization. 

I found my eyes stayed well-adjusted to the darkness if I avoided using my flashlight. All I needed to do was stay on the paved street. That was easier than it sounded at some points. Multiple times I loudly kicked some leaves from the ground because I was unable to see the height of the piles in the dark. I did not want to attract the attention of anything lurking about the dark hills. The only way I could avoid the leaf piles was to use my flashlight, which again brought attention to my presence. 

After nearly three and a half hours of walking I found nothing. I began inadvertently kicking the small piles of leaves again. I walked with a high step for hours, and I simply could not do it anymore. That used up a lot more energy than I expected, and who knows how much longer I had to walk. 

I avoided kicking leaves when I could, but I no longer put any effort into it. I walked this long without seeing any large animals, so I felt rather confident I probably never would. I didn’t think it was worth the extra energy to try to keep quiet. 

I almost screamed when something swooped down from above and snapped at the top of my head. My blood rushed and sparks flooded my eyes. I dropped the gas can and was going to run, but I did not know to where I should run. I did not know if I would be safer on the road or in the woods. I almost dropped to the ground when it happened again. If I were not so panicked, I probably would have laughed when I realized what it was. It was nothing more than small bats snatching mosquitos out of the air. 

It took me a few minutes to get my nerves worked back down again. Now I knew it was nothing more than little bats feeding on the nocturnally active insects, but the initial incident still had my heart racing. Eventually I picked the gas can up off of the ground and continued on my way. I was weary and watched for the bats, but they were so fast and it was so dark I could not see them until they were right on me. None came as close to me as the previous two did, and that was fine by me. 

First being startled by the bats, and second just knowing they were flittering all around me made the creepy seclusion out here in the hills much more intense. Now it seemed like the trees were moving, trying to warm me about something. It felt like the occasional winds were trying to whisper something malicious into my ear. I started to feel a sense of paranoia I never experienced until now. I could suddenly sense the stares of the night animals as I walked through the inky dark alone. 

What was I thinking? Why did I drive all the way out here? What made me think this was a good idea? 

I just wanted to get out and away from the city for a bit. I very rarely took any time to spend outside of the concrete jungle in which I lived and worked. I wanted to see something green that was not a trash can or municipal bus. If only I realized before it was too late that there were no gas stations to be found. That was something I was definitely not expecting. Surely there were people who lived out here, and they had to get their gas somewhere. 

There had to be someone living out here in the foothills, there just had to. I could not see this much open country being totally devoid of human inhabitants. There were roads out here. Sure, they were old roads, but they were not so old as to be in a state of severe disrepair. I saw multiple Christmas tree farms before I ran out of gas, so I knew there were at least people who worked around here. Maybe they did not work out here every day, but they had to work out here some. It seemed to me there would be people living on the land they farmed. 

I finally had to stop. I had the early stages of blisters forming on my feet, and I was reaching the point of being thoroughly exhausted. If I did not stop and allow myself time to rest, I was going to find myself collapsed on this leaf covered road. I found a nice grassy spot at the base of a very steep hill. It was my assumption that I would be safe seated here with my back to this sharp incline. I could not imagine there were too many animals that could climb down this eighty-degree hill with any kind of speed or skill. 

I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew I could not walk all the way back to the city, but I did not know where to find anything way out here in the boonies. I really put myself in one hell of a predicament. If a car did not see me, I could not imagine how I was ever going to reach civilization again. 

Apparently, I was much more exhausted than I thought. I leaned back against the hill and closed my eyes to rest for a moment. When I opened my eyes back up, the sun was barely starting to peek above the horizon. I laid there vulnerable for three hours, exposed to anything and everything. I guess luck was with me last night after all. 

Once I put my shoes back on my sore feet, I got up, grabbed the gas can and flashlight, and continued walking. I looked around through as I walked, since now I could see, for anyone or anything that could direct me to where someone was. Still, I only saw hills, trees and shrubs. 

I was becoming quite desperate. The last service station I passed was more than sixty miles from where I ran out of gas. I knew I was not going to walk that far without food and only one bottle of water. Having someone drive along and find me was the most ideal option, but the least likely. I had to search for signs of civilization: powerlines, phone lines, well-used roads. 

I finished with the last of my water around noon. I kept the bottle with me just in case I found a spring. Those did tend to be quite common in this area. Fresh mountain spring water as a general rule is sterile, so I wouldn’t need to worry about parasites. I knew a little about wilderness survival from going to camp as a kid, but most of those things left my memory long-long ago. 

My mood perked up a bit when I rounded a bend and saw phone lines running from one side of the road to another. I ran under the lines laughing with my hands in the air. I was so happy to find this because, by the look of the pole, this was a very local line. I bet there was not more than a dozen homes connected to it. It was going to be a lot more difficult, but it looked like I was going to have to travel through the hills. I really didn’t want to, but I truly believed I would find help faster following the phone lines and not the leaf covered road. 

It helped to stay in the valley, even though it was a very curvy one. To walk in a straight line, I would have to go up and down, and up and down these steep, rocky hills. It was actually rather marshy directly between the hills. I did not know it would be like this. I had to stay out of the center because the silty mud almost took off one of my shoes. Mostly the mud was a light gray color, but here and there I saw spots dark enough to be crude oil. That was all I needed, to get caught in this fluidic mud and die. 

The mosquitos were terrible as my movement and the smell of my breath stirred them into a frenzy. The little blood suckers got me now and then as I walked along the road, but now they were attacking me constantly. I was thirty minutes into the hills and was about to turn back. Suddenly I saw someone standing atop a distant grassy hill. I yelled and flailed my arms, but I don’t think he heard me. He probably could not hear me because I was down in the valley. I tried to move it a little faster as I made my way toward the man. Butterflies filled my stomach then a sense of relief washed over me. I could not believe I found someone. 

When I rounded the bend and came to the large grassy hill upon which he stood, I called out to him again. The man still did not respond. He just stood there staring off in the other direction. I wondered if he was old or deaf. I tried calling out to him a few times before I began to ascend the hill. 

It was a difficult climb to the top. The ground was damp from recent rains, so the grass pushed loose under the weight of my body. Climbing this hill was indeed a struggle, but I finally made it. I staggered over to the man as I continued to call out to him. He did not move, so I limped my way over to stand in front of him. I wanted to cry when I got a look at him. 

His face was gray, his clothes were gray, everything about him was gray. He was nothing but a statue. It was a very detailed statue. The complexity of the facial features, the texture of the clothing; they were just absolutely amazing. Who in their right mind would spend the time it took to create this magnificent work of art and then put it out here where no one would ever see it? That made absolutely no sense at all. This was something that should be in a museum. 

The statue was of a man dressed as one would in the early 1800’s. He had a rifle in his hand with the butt resting on the ground. His hair was long and unkempt, and a beard about an inch long covered his face. The clothes were a mix of furs and deer skin or leather. Several pouches hung from his belt, which was actually no more than a piece of rope. The eyes had a look of sadness, and his mouth was open as if he were about to say something. 

There was something really creepy about this. It simply did not make sense for someone to put so much time and effort into creating this thing only to bring it out here and stand it on one of the hills. I didn’t see any reason for this. I decided to climb back down and get back to the road. I did not want to be out in the hills anymore. 

I slipped once climbing down and slid more than three feet down the slope. I tried to be careful, but the foliage covering the ground pulled loose very easily. We didn’t get any rain in the city recently, but apparently there was plenty of rain here.  

The ground released a putrid squishy sound as I reached the valley floor. Disturbing the grass and such on my way down, and stepping around on the muddy ground had the mosquitoes stirred up more than ever. Little spots of blood dotted my arms from slapping full ones. It almost seemed like the little blood hawks were about to carry me off. 

Suddenly I realized I did not pay attention to which way I came down the hill, so I was not sure which direction I needed to go. Climbing both up and down the hill, I kicked loose a lot of grass and dirt. All I had to do was walk around the grassy mound until I found my climbing spot. I would know exactly which way to go from there. 

Keeping tight to the base of the hill, I began walking. I made it half way around and still saw no signs of where I climbed up. Something did not seem right, and I really began to worry. I made it all the way around thelarge mound , and I saw no signs of my ascension of the hill. I did not find any signs of where I climbed down either. I kicked and knocked a lot of stuff loose, but the turf looked like it was completely untouched. Frantically I looked around for anything, any sign at all of where I disturbed the soil. It was almost as if the ground was healing itself. 

This couldn’t be happening. I knew this couldn’t be happening. I was probably still asleep on that hill next to the road. That had to be it. I was still asleep. 

Then why did my legs and feet ache so much? 

Giving up on trying to find my previous tracks, I looked around for the power lines I followed to get to this point. I was sure I should be able to see them from the base of this hill. I stepped out and away to get a look at the statue on top. I was sure I came up to the right side of its back, so I tried to use that to get a fix on my position. 

It was late morning and rather warm, but my body ran cold with chills as I looked at the statue. I still could not understand why someone would put such a detailed work of art out here like this, but I really no longer cared to think about that. All I wanted to do was to find my way back to that paved road, even if it was rarely used and covered in leaves. At least there I knew I was on a man-made surface. Everything about these hills felt unnatural, maliciously unnatural. 

Using the statue to regain my direction, I managed to locate the phone lines I followed out here. I remembered it being marshy as I was coming this way, but I did not remember it being so slippery. I had to take great care with my steps so that one foot or both feet did not slip out from under me. 

I was already thirsty, and all this anxiety and physical strain was making me sweat. If I did not find a fresh source of water soon, I would likely die. I did not want to leave my body out here for the animals to pick apart. I so desperately wanted to find my way back to the city and never leave again. To hell with nature and enjoying time ‘out in the country.’ 

I did remember passing some small waterfalls on and around some of the rockier areas, but I could not remember how far away they were. It was really hard to judge the distance traveled in a car when having to travel that same ground on foot. One minute in a car could be an hour on foot. 

I wanted to drop to my knees and kiss the street when I saw the leaf covered road. Tears literally rolled down my cheek when I saw that hard, dry, man-made surface. I tried to run, tried to sprint, but my throbbing feet were so blistered and sore I could scarcely manage to walk. I had to remove my shoes. Leaving them on would only blister me more as I continued to walk this long road. I tucked them under one arm, carried my gas can with one hand, and my flashlight in the other. 

My gait began to waver as I walked without moving my arms. I was so tired, I wanted to collapse. I knew I had to keep moving or I was going to die out here. Knowing this was the only thing that kept me standing. 

Time became blurry. I was not sure how long it was since I got back on the road. I know it was a long time, but that was about as accurate as I could be. Dehydration was thickening my blood and it felt as if my heart was about to leap out of my chest. It took absolutely everything I had in me to keep going. 

Suddenly I noticed the rushing sound of flowing water. I did not believe it at first. I was sure it was nothing more than a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and dehydration. As I listened, I continued to hear it. It was real. From this distance it was very difficult to tell where the sound was originating. The ringing in my ears made pinpointing it from a distance all but impossible. 

Continuing forward, I tried my best to focus on that wonderful sound of life-sustaining water. Eventually the sound grew louder and louder. The louder it became, the surer I was that I was going to find it. Working my dry tongue against my cracked lips, I could almost taste the cold spring water. 

Finally, I found the location of the sound; I had to once again leave the road and walk a little deeper into the hills. This area was steeper, and much rockier than the previous area I explored. I found a large pool of water. As much as I wanted to dive into it and start drinking, I knew I needed to follow the water a little closer to the source. The water needed to be cold and flowing, and this water was heated by the sun and stagnate. 

It was only another hundred feet or so before I found the fresh spring from which the water flowed from the rocks. Being as careful as I could not to slip and fall, I worked my way to the spring and began drinking. I could not control myself and I drank until my side began to cramp. Grabbing my side with both hands, I doubled over onto the ground. 

The pain was absolutely excruciating, but after a short time it subsided. My mouth was still dry, and the running water only made me thirstier. I began taking small drinks and allowing that to settle before I drank any more. I was probably there for an hour before I started to feel normal again. I was not going to die from thirst today. 

I stayed there by the little waterfall replenishing the missing water from my body for another hour before getting back to the road. Walking with cramps would be next to impossible, so I needed to make sure the water was getting absorbed into my system. Trying to make it on foot with a stomach full of water would leave me doubled over once again. 

When I did finally follow the flow of the water back to the large pool, I saw what I first thought to be nothing but a rock on the side of a grassy hill partially covered in trees. As I looked at it for a moment, I realized it looked more like a person. It looked like a person, but it did not move. 

As frightened as I was at that moment, I still could not resist the urge to get a close look at the statue. It was not far, and I made sure to study the landmarks before I left the water’s edge. I was not going to get myself in the same predicament as before. That was not a mistake I planned to make twice. 

This figure appeared to be made of the same sort of stone as the first statue. I stayed a few feet to the side of it and climbed up to get a look at it from the front. When I did, I wished I stayed away from it. 

This figure was that of a woman. Her mouth was wide-open in what appeared to be mid-scream, and the features on her face were contorted in fear. Her hair was disheveled, but it reminded me of the hairstyles that were so popular in the mid 1980’s. She looked like she was trying to get away from something, like she was desperately trying to get away with her life. 

I started running. I did not notice the pain in my feet anymore. The fear overcame that. Unfortunately, my fear also made me careless. I was paying attention to what was up ahead and not what was right in front of me. I hit a small grassy patch in the rocks and it went right out from under me. 

The next thing I knew it was dark again. I had no idea for how long. I slipped on that patch of grass and banged my head pretty good. I tried to ignore the pounding in my skull enough to get myself comfortably into a seated position. I tried to get a look at my watch, but I could see the screen was cracked. I took it off and angrily threw it into the darkness. 

There was a little sliver of moon out tonight, and I already determined it was in the waxing phase. I like looking at the moon through my telescope at home, so I became good at deducing the time by the position and phase of the moon. 

It was a little after midnight. At least I had that figured out. Using my shirt, I dabbed at the back of my head gently then checked the fabric for blood. There was a little, but it did not seem to be too bad. Suddenly there was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized I left my flashlight back at the statue on the top of that hill. I was in such a panic; I did not even think about it. All I could think about all day was finding water. Now it was dark, and I was virtually blind. 

There simply was not enough moonlight to use for navigation. The sound of the water was still very clear, so I did my best to take small steps and worked my way to the spring. Once I reached the pool it was a straight shot back to the road again. It took a long time. It felt like an eternity, and I could swear I felt eyes glaring at me. I did not know where they were, but I was sure this was more than a sense of paranoia. 

This feeling I was being watched made me want to rush. It was a struggle not to follow my instincts and flee as fast as I possible could, but I knew the chances of me injuring myself were a hundred times better in the dark than in the daytime. Already possibly having a serious head injury, I did not want to fall and hurt myself again. 

Feeling like something was about to come bearing down on me, I experienced a very momentary sense of relief when I saw the reflection of the moon dancing on the surface of that large pool. From there I knew which direction I should go. I was so glad I had the forethought this time to familiarize myself with the area before straying off. Even in this haunting darkness, I was able to locate my markers. I was only ten feet away from the road when the grass under my right foot slipped free from the marshy ground. 

Again, I slipped and fell on my back, but this time I smacked down into the mud rather than banging my head on another rock. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but I did not knock myself unconscious this time. A few minutes passed as I caught my breath and allowed the sparks in my eyes to subside before attempting to get myself off the ground. 

My whole back side was covered in mud and grass. I needed to wash my head wound and drink some more water, but there was no possible way I was going to even consider attempting to feel my way through the dark over that slippery, rocky terrain created by that fresh water spring. 

Finally making it back to that old country road, I dropped to my knees and started crying. I started bawling is more like it. Death felt so close; I wondered if those were the sinister eyes I felt staring at me. 

Was the Grim Reaper following me waiting for me to make that one fatal mistake? 

Mud filled my shoes when I fell. I had no other choice than to remove them from my feet again. Taking them off to tuck them back under my arm, it dawned on me I never picked up the gas can after I fell the first time. When I was rescued, if I was ever rescued, hopefully they would have one because I was not going to leave this road again. 

Ignoring the pain coursing from my feet to my head, I ran as fast as I could. The piles of leaves on the road shifted under my feet, and I had to again stop and walk. Something was out there stalking me. I could feel it like I could feel the blisters on my feet. At this point I would be happy if it was a wolf hiding in the darkness, but I did not think that was the case. This thing haunting me was not something natural to this world. 

My body told me I had to stop, but I would not listen. I was not going to stop until I saw the sun again. Fear and fear alone kept me going. I pushed through the pain and kept on the move. There was no way I was going to sit out here in the dark with whatever it was that was watching me. 

Every now and then I stepped on a small rock concealed under the heaping leaves. It hurt intensely, but I could not put on my shoes until I could get the silty mud out of them. Crumbled leaves and tiny sticks stuck to the mud on my socks, but I was not going to walk fully barefooted. The socks did not provide much protection, but they did provide some. I had to routinely clean the debris from my feet taking up time and energy I did not have. I needed to get as far as I could while it was still dark and cool. Once the sun came back out, I would begin sweating again. That meant I would need to find another source of drinkable water. 

With the exception of the pain from stepping on the occasional rock, walking on the leaves in my socked feet was actually quite comfortable. Wearing my mud filled shoes would only cause my blisters to progress faster, so this was some small relief in an otherwise intense situation. 

Because of the noise made as I walked through the growing cover of leaves on the road, I did not notice it until I stopped to rest for a moment. The sound of trickling water was inviting as it echoed in the night air. I was insatiably thirsty and wanted so badly to go find the spring, but there was absolutely no chance I was going to go off into the hills in the dark. Fortunately, sunrise came not even an hour later. 

There was no sense of relief when the sun did finally begin to rise. Whatever was following me, it was still out there hiding. The sun did not make the danger go away; it simply gave me a better chance of seeing what it was. I would not feel safe again until I was seated on the couch in my modestly sized apartment in the city. 

I waited until the sun rose above the tops of the hills before going in search of water. I had to go in my socked feet until I could wash out my shoes, but that seemed to make the walk on the slippery rocks a little easier. The ability of my foot to form around the shape of the water eroded rocks gave me a much firmer footing than my shoes ever could. 

Locating the running water, I followed it upstream in search of its source. Straight from a spring is the only place one could find drinkable water out here in the middle of nowhere. The water in the small stream was contaminated by microscopic animals and bacteria. The spot where the water emerged directly from the rocks in the hills was where the cleanest water could be found. 

Before I set off to follow the water upstream, I washed my shoes out at this part of the stream. Most of the mud came right off, but small clumps of black would not wash off. Even after using my hands to try to scrub it off, the black stuff remained. I pulled my shoe back out of the water and looked at it more closely. It did not look like dirt. It looked like that black stuff I saw mixed in with the mud close to where I found that first statue. 

I checked my socks and the substance was on them too. Removing my socks, I found the stuff was on my feet. I looked under my arm where I carried my shoes and found spots of it there as well. Washing it off did not work. Trying to wipe it away did not work. It was adhering to me like little droplets of tar. I was sure some good strong soap would get it off once I got rescued and got home. 

I shook as much water as I could out of my shoes and tied the laces together. I hung them around my neck and began my walk upstream. It was really very beautiful. The stream-bed consisted of nothing but rock. All the dirt and silt washed away long ago. The vegetation, though late in the season, was still a strong and healthy dark green. Soft moss covered many of the rocks, and yellow and bright orange lichens tried to cover what the moss did not. 

I did not have to follow the stream to its origin this time. Multiple springs fed this one, so all I had to do was find the closest one. That did not take nearly as much time as I thought it would. I felt the water and found it was icy cold. I washed my hands off as best as I could and then used them as a cup to feed myself water from the spring. It did not flow as strong as the spring yesterday, so I could not drink from it directly. This was going to take a little time, but I saved a lot of time not following the stream to its source. 

When I shifted my weight from one side to the other, I lost my balance and slipped. I did not slip enough to fall, but I did kick loose a two square foot patch of moss growing on a large rock. In the rich mud, I saw more of that black oily substance. 

What was that stuff? Could it be crude oil seeping out of the ground? Was it some sort of pollution? 

I screamed when the substance spread to the loosened moss, pulled it back in place, and made it look as if it was never disturbed. I screamed both from the fright of that unnatural sight and from excruciating pain. When the black substance became active, all the little black droplets on my body began to burn. It felt like someone kicked the hot coals of a camp fire at me causing the burning cinders to blow on me like snow. 

I could not believe what I saw. The ground healed itself. These hills were alive, or something was alive in them. That explained why I could not find where I disturbed the ground at the hill with the statue of the man on top. I began to panic as I considered the terrifying possibilities. 

Was this natural, supernatural or alien in nature, and was it ever going to let me get out of here alive? 

I grabbed my shoes and began to run. I did not think about falling or slipping on the wet stones. The only thing on my mind was getting away. I did not know where I could get away to, but if I reached the road, at least I would be back on a man-made surface. I never saw any of that oily black stuff on the leaves or anything on the paved surface. I prayed it was not in the water, because if it was, I just put it directly into my body. 

I tried to vomit. I stuck my finger down my throat to try and make myself gag. I did my best to expunge the water from my stomach, but unfortunately I had no success. I had to pray none of that stuff was in the cold spring water I consumed only minutes ago. 

I got up and ran in such a hurry, I left my shoes sitting by the small waterfall. I still had my pistol though. I never removed it from my belt. I did not think it would do me any good against these living hills, but it still gave me some measure of comfort having it on me. 

With my adrenalin still surging from the horror I experienced, I jogged down the road as far as I could. My body wanted to collapse on me, but I wanted nothing more than to get away from here and away from this cursed terrain. I did not know how far this stuff spread. It went back at least as far as the first statue I found. That was more than a full day’s walk. I had to wonder if it was just around the road, or if it also went deep into the hills. 

When I stopped, I bent over and put my hands on my knees to rest a moment. I glanced at the black stuff adhered to my skin. Suppressing my urge to cry, I could not suppress the tears that ran from my eyes. The spots were larger, and the skin around them began to grow very dry and rough. Checking my feet, I found the same thing happening there. Panic and fear surged through me like a bolt of lightning. The stuff was doing something to me, changing me. 

The coloration of the dry skin was the same as that of the two statues. They looked so realistic because they were real. Those figures were no works of art at all. Those figures were people just like me. This horrid substance was going to turn me into stone. 

How could that possibly be? 

I tried gripping one of the droplets between my fingernails to try and pluck it from my skin, but it was not going to come off. I tried again to wipe it with my shirt to no avail. I already tried washing it off in the water. I wish I still had my gas can. Perhaps the few drops of gas that were still in it would remove this stuff. 

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a voice whisper into my ear. I could not understand what it said, but I could pick up on the malicious tone. I heard it a second time. This time it was much clearer, but I still could not understand it. It sounded as if it were in some long-lost language. 

Frantically I looked around me for the source of that voice. It sounded like it was whispering right into my ear, but there was nothing near me. I swung my arms around the air with my palms open as if I were trying to swat something away. 

A shock surged through my whole body when the ghostly voice screamed at me. It was a scream of rage yet somehow a scream of sorrow. I could not see anything that could be making these sounds and that terrified me beyond any level of fear I knew. 

I was going to run, but a large mass of the black substance began to cover a large section of the road. I turned to run back, but the stuff covered that direction too. The patches of the goo were already too wide for me to jump. 

As I stood there trying to figure out how to get around the black ooze, a pillar of the substance rose out of the ground at the edge of the road. It took on a very vaguely human shape, like it was trying to imitate me. I could feel it staring at me, observing me. The retched thing had no eyes, but I could still feel it looking at me. I stood, almost as if mesmerized, and stared back at the unnatural thing. 

The unholy pillar of sludge began to roil and bubble. I knew my gun would do no good against the ooze, so I pulled it from my belt and turned it on myself. It was too late. The thing erupted, covering my body in that filthy black ooze. Instantly, I froze in place. My knees were bent and my hands wrapped around the butt of my pistol holding it to my temple. My face was contorted in fear, turned to stone forever in a silent scream. 

Copyright 2023 ©

The Village

Word Count: 5,282

The heavy rain pounded hard on my poncho, which did rather little to keep me dry. I did not bother to check the weather before deciding to go on a hike alone this morning. The sun was shining beautifully and there was not a single cloud in the sky when I left my house. I happened to have a cheap drugstore poncho in my backpack I purchased some time ago. The plastic was quite thin and flaws in the seals allowed the cold water to seep in leaving me with cold wet spots. 

I found a rather sizable nook at the base of the trunk of an impressively large tree which helped keep some of the pounding rain off of me. I crouched down so the meager plastic barrier would help keep my feet from getting soaked, which turned out to be a futile endeavor. I kept by back up against the tree trunk to somewhat help keep the rain off of me. Watching the downpour wash sticks and leaves on the ground in developing water flows, I wondered how long this was going to last. 

I parked my car and started my hike just after eight o’clock in the morning. I was making good time when the wind suddenly began to blow cold. Right then I should have turned around, but I ignored the warning and continued my hike. The wind only blew for a half hour or less, but the clouds closed in on me quickly. I saw no lightening, so I did not worry. That was a terrible miscalculation. 

For two hours I sat there hunkered down in that flimsy rain barrier waiting for the pounding torrent to stop. Finally, it began to let up. It continued to rain a little, but at least the worst of it seemed to pass. I got back up and started to head back to the trail when I realized I was not sure what direction it was. The downpour moved the stick and leaves covering the ground and obscured the already faint trail I followed to get here. 

Without the sun shining in the sky, I was not sure which direction was which. I did not bother bringing a compass along because I was always rather adept at finding my way guided by the sun. I was not expecting bad weather and not being able to accurately locate the sun. 

I wished I took one of the more widely used trails around here, those were more heavily worn and easiest to spot, but I wanted to be off the heavily beaten path. There was a lot more privacy in the less frequently used trails, but there was also a lot smaller a chance of encountering help if necessary. A big problem was these smaller trails, many of them animal trails, were that they were a lot less obvious, especially after a rainstorm like that. I thought I remembered finding the nook in the tree after I approached it, so I was somewhat confident I knew which direction to go. 

As the light rain continued to fall, the cold snap that came right before the storm finally passed. The weather was still dreary, but at least it was not quite so chilly. It was bad enough all I had was this cheap plastic garment to keep me dry, or fail to keep me dry. Being wet made being cold so much worse. I hoped the warm air meant the rain was going to stop, but I was sadly disappointed. 

The rain continued to fall, although very lightly, as I tried to figure my way back to my car. I walked for more than an hour and came to an area where the trail divided in the center of three large hills. I began to panic a bit when I saw this. I know I passed nothing like this on the way in. I walked for more than an hour in a wrong direction. I would have to turn around and try to backtrack to my previous location. Luckily, I kicked around some small piles of sticks and leaves as I walked, just for something to do, and it was rather easy to trace my way back to a point. 

This is when I encountered another unfortunate obstacle, I was almost halfway back when I reached an area hit with a flow of water after I passed. My markers of stirred up sticks and leaves were gone. I was really beginning to regret the idea of going out for a nature walk. I am not a super experienced hiker, but I spent my share of time in the wilderness. I should know to check the weather before I set out on a trip like this, especially when I was going all by myself. 

I was not sure what time it was, but it had to be getting late. Either the cloud cover was growing heavier or the sun was close to setting. Neither one was a good sign. I walked much slower now, looking for something I might recognize. Finally, I felt a sense of relief. I spotted the tree under which I hid from the initial downpour. With a little more pep back in my stride, I made my way over to the tree. I was sure I could figure out the right direction back to my starting point now. 

My heart nearly stopped when I got close enough to the tree to realize it was the wrong one. I slouched forward in despair and held myself up with my hands on my knees. I began to tremble. I don’t know if it was because of the cold, exhaustion or anxiety, but my hands and shoulders were trembling. 

The rain became nothing but a light drizzle, so I removed my backpack from under my poncho and tossed it against the tree. I had no idea what I was going to do. I looked around with a bit of desperation for the tree I thought I found, but I saw no other trees with trunks this large. By now I lost track of how much time I was walking. It was going to be dark soon. This was supposed to be a relaxing couple of hours of hiking around a new area. I wasn’t supposed to get lost. I am a fairly experienced woodsman. I should be able to find my way back to my nice, dry, comfortable car. 

I stood back up, took a few deep breaths and did a few stretches. I had to calm myself down so I could make it out of these forested hills and back to civilization before dark. I did not want to get caught out here, I really did not want to get caught out here after dark. I only had one small flashlight with me. I did not plan on being out this long so I did not bring either one of my good, heavy-duty flashlights. If I had to guess, I would say the little one I had would last for an hour, maybe two before it went dead. The clouds were still heavy overhead, so even if it was a full moon tonight, I would still be in absolute darkness. 

Gathering my wits about me, I tried to think. I spent plenty of time in the woods during my life. Certainly, I could find my way back out. I just had to think. I tried to come up with something that would help. Then I realized, when I was following that first trail, I wound between the hills, I did not walk up or down any of them. That gave me a good start. I looked around and took note of the location of the nearby hills. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I decided there could only be one of two ways to get back to where I was parked. 

The rain stopped, so I had that going for me. It appeared the heavy cloud cover was going nowhere any time soon. Removing the plastic poncho, I shook as much water off as I could and wadded it up in my hand. Throwing my backpack over one shoulder, I began walking. There were two possible routes back to my starting point as far as I could figure. I chose the one of which I was most sure and started along my way. 

About an hour after setting off this last time, the day grew late and the light grew dim. Getting lost in the woods at night was not something I wanted to do, especially since it was cold and wet. If it got too dark, my best bet would be to wait until morning to find my way out. That would mean being outside in hiking clothes and shoes both still wet throughout the cold night without any dry ground upon which to sleep. That was not an option I wanted to have to take. 

I soon realized I had no idea where I was going. Nothing looked familiar. I could be walking around in circles at this point for all I knew. I was about to let my body slump to the ground when I spotted a glimmer of hope. I might be going the wrong way, but deep through the woods I could see the light of multiple windows. I might not have found my car, but I did find civilization after all. 

The lights were far off in the distance, and less than an hour after spotting them it was absolutely dark. I used the windows to keep my direction and walked slowly and carefully. After nearly tripping and falling on my face, I got out the little flashlight I had and used it to help me avoid dangerous obstacles. It was only bright enough to shine immediately in front of my feet, but it was better than nothing. Even with this, it took me an hour to near the sources of light. 

I was not sure how many houses there were, but I could make out at least five. It looked like I found a small neighborhood set back in the woods a bit for privacy and seclusion. I probably wasn’t far from a major highway at all since the people who lived here had to get to the stores. Perhaps someone here could give me a ride back to my car, so I could get home and take a well desired hot shower. 

My flashlight died on me only moments before I saw two figures emerge from between two of the buildings. I was close now, and if my light were working, they would no doubt have seen me. One of them carried a lantern, an antique oil lantern. Both of the men were dressed in outdated garments. One appeared to be wearing clothing from the colonial era, and the other man’s clothes were reminiscent of the garments of the 1920’s. I immediately found this quite odd and kept quiet until the two men disappeared between two other buildings. Something did not seem right here at all, so I decided I should be stealthy and use caution until I knew where I was and what was going on. 

I walked toe to heel to help soften the sounds of my footfalls and made my way to the closest building. This building was clearly a home. I could see through the kitchen window. It appeared to have all of the modern conveniences. There was a toaster, a refrigerator and even a microwave. 

Cautiously I made my way to the end of the building, to the gap where the two men emerged not long ago. I was confused when I saw the second house up close. It was an old cedar log cabin which appeared to be a design used three or four hundred years ago. I crept over to the building, looking around the whole time to make sure I was not seen, and made my way over to the nearest window. Looking inside I was baffled at what I saw. 

Instead of the modern appliances in the first house, this house had only candles, oil lanterns, a fireplace and a wood burning stove. Why would two houses so close to one another be in such vastly different conditions? 

Keeping a close watch around me, I moved between the buildings to the old gravel road running in front of the houses. More houses awaited me on the other side of the road. Judging by what I was able to see so far, this strange village was built in a circular pattern. The homes were staggered, so I could not see more than one row of houses deeper into the buildings. I think this was by design. It prevented me from looking far in any one direction. I estimated by the size there must be four or five rings of buildings in this creepy hamlet. 

I watched and waited for ten or fifteen minutes before I made a sprint for the gap between two of the houses on the other side of the gravel road. My heart raced as I ducked behind one of the buildings. After allowing myself a few moments to catch my breath, I peeked around the corner to see if I was spotted. It appeared I was again lucky as I saw no one else out on the street, and the curtains to most of the homes were pulled closed. 

I came up to the back of a Victorian style home – none of these homes appeared to be from the same era – when I heard the most horrific scream shatter the cold quite air of the small town. The screaming continued, sending shivers through my body and making my stomach feel ill, for nearly ten minutes. I never heard such cries of pain in my life. The people of this strange town must be torturing someone. I wanted to run, I wanted to get away to safety as soon as possible, but the good person in me could not allow me to go off and abandon those who really needed my help. 

It sounded like the anguished scream came from the opposite side of the village. I would have to make my way through the center of town to get there. I was already too deep into the cluster of homes to go out and go around. When I finally came to a place between two houses, a ranch house and a Tudor home, I saw what was in the center. 

Initially I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in the dark. In the center of the town there appeared to be a very deep hole about fifty feet in diameter. I could not see well from my current hiding position, but it looked like the hole was encircled by large black stones cut level with the ground. I wanted to get a closer look at that hole, but there simply was nowhere to hide close to the pit. There appeared to be something carved into the stones, but I could not see it from any hiding spot. No buildings, wagons, cars or anything else was any closer than the inner ring of buildings. 

I watched three people exit from a house a couple of buildings from where I hid. Two of them appeared to wear clothes from the modern day, but the third person instead wore furs and the heavy clothes of a mountain man. He had a full, thick beard and his hair was very unkempt. An old hatchet and a single fire pistol hung from his belt. 

As the three of them headed in the direction of the village opposite of me, I heard another one of those bone chilling, agonized screams pierce through the darkness. I jumped from the fright, and prayed no one saw me.  I watched the three as they disappeared between some of the structures  on the other side of the hole, headed in the direction of those tortured cries. 

I was not about to go out in the open to cross near the hole, so I slowly worked my way from between one set of buildings and another. I took great care to make sure no one saw me skulking about their strange little town. I was even beginning to wonder if I was actually sleeping at the base of some tree right now having a horrible nightmare. I wish I could think that, but I knew this was far too real to be any sort of dream. 

Another horrible cry of agony echoed through the night. This time it lasted longer and sounded even more tortured, if that was possible, than the screams before. Possibly a minute later a strange glowing red mist passed between the houses and sucked into the stone-rimmed hole like water through a drinking straw. I so desperately wanted to flee for my life, but I could not live with myself if I did not try to help this person or people from whatever cruelty was being enacted upon them. 

I was about to move out from behind a large bush that was doing a good job of concealing me when I heard some voices. I waited where I was as I watched four individuals pass me and disappear between two buildings of the outer ring. I did not catch much of what was said as they walked by. One of them said something about “gifts for thee who protects…” and that was all I got. 

Two more small groups of people passed the same way. I could only assume they were headed to the same place. I watched and waited for a few more minutes, then quietly and staying in the dark, I followed them to their clandestine location. I watched some people enter what really looked like nothing more than a barn. I heard screaming again, screaming of someone being tortured. There was no doubt it came from that barn. Luckily there was a window on the side of the barn next to some farming utensils. I quickly made my way over there and took a look inside. 

I came in low and rose up slowly to get a look at what was happening in the building. As soon as I saw what was taking place I dropped to the ground and vomited. I tried to make as little sound as possible, but after what I just saw I could not help myself. Certainly I made a mistake. Surely there could not be people who would perform such awful rituals. 

After composing myself, I decided to once again look inside the window. This time I had much more of an idea of what to expect. A wave of fear washed over me as I gazed upon the scene inside the barn. In the center of the building was a six-foot-tall pyramid that appeared to be made of sunstone. On each side of it stood two obelisks that, if I were to have to guess, I would say looked like white and dark speckled blue lapis lazuli. On one side of these objects all but one person stood. Another man dressed in black ceremonial robe stood on the other. What he stood by was what made me feel fear like I did not know fear could be. 

Two tables reminiscent of the racks used in the days of the Spanish crusades stood propped up slightly toward the crowd of townspeople. On one table was chained a man. On the other table there was chained a woman. Both of them were stripped bare naked. That was not what made it so horrific. That was not even close. 

The man looked as if his belly was cut open surgically. The skin pulled tight and was pinned to the table, leaving his entrails completely exposed. Several feet of his small intestines were pulled from his body and hung down between his feet. The man in the black robe, using a ceremonial knife he held, cut out a large piece of the man’s liver. The man screamed in pain like nothing I ever heard before. By all rights he should be dead, but instead he remained alive just so he could be tortured. 

The man in the black robes tortured his male prisoner for what seemed like forever, but was really probably closer to three or four minutes. When he stopped, he stepped back and held his hands up high and called out “The Old Gods abandoned this world, left us helpless. The New Gods found us naked and afraid. The New Gods protected us and gave us unending life. We must feed the one who protects us.” The last sentence he yelled out strong. 

As the tortured man continued to scream, a red glow rose from his body and absorbed into the sunstone pyramid centered in the barn. Seconds later red mist rose from the tops of the obelisks and formed something of a red gaseous sphere directly over the pyramid. There it hovered as the people in the barn began to chant something I could not understand. The faintly glowing mist then drifted through the closed barn door and directly towards the large, stone-ringed pit. 

The female captive appeared to either be asleep, drugged, in shock or something. Her eyes were slightly opened, but she did not move or do anything as they tortured the man in front of her. I had no idea if the two of them were together, or if they were strangers to each other. The idea suddenly struck me that these two may be unfortunate victims who wandered into this horrible place like I did. I almost went into a panic and ran. I think fear was the only thing holding me in place. If they were captured by the villagers, then there was a distinct possibility I could be too. 

Braving it again, I rose back up to observe what was happening. The person in the black robe walked back to stand in front of the naked man. Holding the blade high in the air, he said something again about “feeding thee who protects.” He reached down and took the suffering man’s hand in his own. Then he proceeded to slice the joints of his fingers, one at a time. He cut the joints from the palm side of the hand, but he left each remaining attached by a flap of skin. 

The man screamed and begged for them to please go ahead and kill him. The crowd laughed at his pleas, mocking him as if this were some sort of game to them. The poor guy continued to scream in pain as his torturer then played with his dangling fingers like he was playing with wind chimes. I could not imagine the pain the man felt as I watched the scene unfolding and listened to his agonized screams. 

The robed figure tortured the other until that red energy left the man and entered the pyramid in front of me. Five times I watched the pyramid absorb the man’s agony and turn it into some kind of mist. Each time the mist passed through the closed barn doors and proceeded to the stone ringed pit in the center of town. 

I don’t know how that unfortunate man was not dead already. His wounds were more than enough to kill a normal man. Something else that seemed unnatural about this was the tortured man shed no blood. As much as he was cut, as much as the robed man mutilated him, he did not bleed. That made no sense. I could not fathom why he did not bleed out and how he could possibly still be living after all this. 

After the man in black cut loose all the joints in the man’s fingers and toes, he turned the racks upon which the victims were chained. He adjusted the tables so they were facing each other. With the man still screaming in pain, he walked over to the woman and made a shallow cut down her chest bone and between her breasts. I guess this broke the spell or whatever they had on her, because she began to panic and feebly try to pull herself free. 

She started to trembling, her lips quivering as she looked at the mangled man across from her. She was bawling and saying things like “No, no, no…” Several times she said the man’s name and told him she loved him. I assumed at this point they were married, or a couple somehow. I so desperately wanted to go help them, but there was nothing I could do. I am not doctor. I could not put that man back together so that he would live. If these people caught me, I might be the next one feeding “the one who protects.” 

The man in the black robes, the master of the ceremony, the high priest or whatever he was retrieved two long skewers from the fireplace and approached the woman with a sadistic grin on his face. He took the first skewer and drove it from her side all the way through her left breast. Smoke rose from the sizzling flesh. She screamed in horrendous pain, which eventually became the red mist feeding that thing in the pit. Acting with a dark sense of glee, he took the other nearly red-hot skewer and, starting over her chest bone he drove it through her breast until it came out the other side. She continued to scream and cry as the crowd laughed at her agony. 

As the skewers sizzled inside the woman’s flesh, he removed a long iron poker from the fire. The end glowed red from the heat of the fireplace coals. The woman’s lips and cheeks quivered as the robed man approached her with the searing hot rod. She begged and pleaded with him not to do whatever he was about to do. She prayed to God for salvation, but none came.  He stood in front of her and reached out between her legs with the red-hot iron poker. 

I could not watch what was going to happen next. I dropped back toward the ground. I covered my ears and closed my eyes tightly as I heard the blood curdling cries of that poor woman. If I was not going to help, and I did not see any way that I could, then it was probably best if I snuck back out of this place and got somewhere safer. I had to get the authorities out here and put a stop to this madness. 

My legs were rather numb and my knees hurt from squatting down for as long as I did. I had to stand there for a minute and work the stiffness out of them before I could flee. When I was ready to make my escape, I began to move towards the woods. Before they saw me, I saw a group of four or five people – it was difficult to tell how many people in this darkness – walking in my direction. I was going to have to make my escape the same way I came in. I was going to have to go back through the rings of homes. 

Slipping around the nearest building before the group arrived was easy, and I continued to move from one hiding spot to another. More alert than I ever was prior to this in my life, I kept a careful watch for anyone who might spot me. I knew getting caught would probably bring about the same torture for me as that ill-fated couple. I was not going to let them get me and feed my pain to whatever unholy thing was in that pit, this thing they called one of the New Gods and “the one who protects.” 

I could not say how long it took me to sneak out of and away from that cursed place. The screams of the man and woman still pierced out in the night, over and over. It tore at my soul that there was nothing I could do for them. I left them being tortured, apparently unable to die. I wondered if I could live with myself for not doing something to help. I simply saw no way I could though. I would get the authorities and have this place taken apart. 

I made my way through the forest as quickly as I could. By sunrise I finally reached a road. I did not know where the road led, but I was absolutely elated to finally find something besides more woods. I was ecstatic after I followed the road for an hour or so, and I located the parking area where I left my car. 

I sped my way into town and went straight to the police department. My tires screeched as I abruptly stopped in a parking space. I barely had the keys turned off before I was climbing out of my car and racing inside. Two officers sat at a long desk that stretched from one wall to the other. Behind them, sitting a little higher was the Police Captain. I ran over to them and somewhat collapsed on the desk. I was too excited, and I was beginning to hyperventilate. 

The two officers at ground level came from behind the wooden desk to try to help me calm down. One of them grabbed a small brown paper bag and had me breathe into it. Eventually I managed to calm down enough to tell them what happened. 

I explained to them everything I experienced. From the time I got lost, the time I spent in that horrible place, and what I saw when I was there. I began to explain how I got away when the captain stopped me. 

“You punk kids come in here ever year with stories of this ‘magical village’ that no one has ever been able to find,” he barked at me as he walked out from behind his desk. “I am sick of you college punks trying to play pranks on the police. You really think that shit’s funny, pranking the police. I should lock you up for filing a false report.” 

I assured him I was telling the truth, but all that did was make him angrier. He gave me one last warning, then he was going to lock me up. I wanted to try to make him understand. People are dying in the most horrible ways, and no one was doing anything to stop them. 

Exhausted, I finally left the station and got back in my car. I did not know what to do. I felt like I had to do something, but I could not take on that whole town. People were going to continue suffering the fate of the couple I watched being tortured, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. If I could not get the authorities to help, there was nothing more I could do. 

I started my car and began heading home. The screams of that couple still remained clear in my mind. I watched them suffer, hearing their anguished cries, then watching those objects turn their pain into food for whatever being from the nether world that lived in that pit. I had to live the rest of my life knowing people were going to continue to be made captive, and eventually tortured with unnatural methods. I had to live the rest of my life wondering what dark, evil thing was living inside that pit in the center of the village. 

Copyright 2022 ©

Dead Man’s Switch

Word Count: 9,512

Early in the morning of May 4, 2011, I awoke from my sleep screaming in terror. This was a common occurrence and a constant nuisance in my life. My psychiatrist called them night terrors. Nightmares plagued my slumber, and nothing seemed to help. The doctor prescribed me a range of mental health medications, but the night terrors continued. I awoke two or three times a week drenched in sweat and trembling from head to toe. 

I never woke with any memories of my dreams, and I was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. If my dreams were so bad I awoke screaming for my life, I do not think I would want to recall them. On the other hand, if I knew what my dreams were about, I might be able to do something about them. 

My doctor made a suggestion he said might help. Per his instructions, I kept a notebook by my bed. Each morning when I awoke, I would immediately write down any details I remembered. Dr. Cooper would go through these with me during our sessions in an attempt to discover the underlying cause of my nightmares. 

My sleep disorder began to affect my studies. I had problems focusing in class and concentrating on my homework. I never had any energy, but I was afraid of going to sleep. Coffee helped some, but it gave me the jitters. I did not even have the desire to go out with my friends. 

My parents paid for me a small apartment off of campus. They lived with my night terrors for years, and they knew no roommate could live with them. It was something I kept from my friends. It was a secret, a secret I was crazy, and I told none of my college friends or classmates. 

Years of medication and psychotherapy failed to provide any positive results. By my junior year in college, I accepted the fact I would deal with this for the rest of my life. Even when I had a girlfriend, I would always go home to sleep. I never let anyone stay overnight at my place, for obvious reasons, and I never stayed over with anyone else. A lot of girls took this as an insult causing me to be something of a sexual outcast. 

Only one more week of finals remained, then I had a small break before the summer session began. So long as I could make it through four summer classes, I would graduate one semester early. The only major thing I really had left was my internship. I would take care of that during the fall session. 

I was working on my degree in computer science, and I planned to work as an I.T. specialist after graduation. Until I was offered the internship, I never heard of the company making the offer. It was some informational technology corporation called NEMV. 

Their office was located in one of the larger buildings in Nashville, Tennessee. Apparently, they were large enough to have their own floor in one of the high-rise buildings. I hoped I would get an office with a window, if I got an office at all.

During my summer sessions, I spent less and less time with others. People I knew since childhood no longer wanted to have anything to do with me. Even those I grew up with since we were babies did their best to avoid contact with me. I became an outcast and an oddity, and the rumors began to circulate about me. 

I heard whispers that I joined some kind of satanic cult. Other rumors said I dabbled in witchcraft. Even others said I was going insane. No one ever said anything to my face about my drastic change in personality. Everything being said was said behind closed doors or in hushed whispers of gathered students. 

I knew when people talked about me because they would suddenly grow quite whenever I passed by. Even some of my instructions appeared to go out of the way to avoid being alone with me in the same room at the same time. Every time I met one of them for any number of reasons, they always avoided having it take place enclosed office or study room. 

Depression set in and I became very paranoid. That was probably from a lack of sleep more than anything. One of my professors even suggested I see one of the school therapists. It was obvious people began to worry about what I might do. I guess they thought I was going to go on a killing spree or something. I was not angry. I did not want anyone to get hurt. All I really wanted was to be left alone. 

I never had any energy, and I was sleepy all of the time. I would try to nap during the day in hopes shorter sleeping sessions would lessen the chance for the night terrors. I was wrong. I experienced the nightmares no matter how long or short I slept. This sleep disorder took its toll on every aspect of my life. Even my parents, who lived with my sleeping disorder since I was a toddler, began to worry about me. If I could not do something soon to stop these horrific dreams, I would surely go mad. 

Even after years of trying to write my dreams down when I awoke in the morning, there was only one thing I ever remembered. I always remembered a presence, a darkness of sorts, like an ominous sinister presence. 

Over time, I came to the belief that this thing that so frequently haunted my dreams was something more than a figment of my imagination. I finally concluded that this thing was something real, something alive that tormented me as I slept. 

I did not reveal my deduction to my doctor or to anyone else. Surely, if I tried to convince others that the tormentor of my dreams was a living entity, they would think I went insane. The authorities, if not my family, would have me hospitalized where I would probably spend the rest of my life. 

When I was fifteen years of age, I did spend some time in a mental hospital. Knowing what to expect, I could not let myself become a lab rat locked up for the remainder of my days. Doctors and other professionals would study me and publish papers on what they learned about my disorder. No way was I going to let myself become a test subject for a bunch of head shrinkers. 

One night I could not get to sleep. I left my apartment and began walking. Buried in my thoughts, I paid no attention to where I went. I walked for several hours, and by the time I paid attention to my surroundings I had no idea where I was. 

I found hope, a small glimmer of optimism that my nightmare would someday end when I noticed the entrance to what I assumed was a Buddhist temple. I do not know what compelled me, but I felt somehow these people would be able to help me. 

The monks inside seemed to be engaged in some form of meditation as I entered the building. Their chanting brought a peace to my heart like I have never known. I waited, just inside the doorway for more than an hour before their ceremony came to an end. I had no idea what I should do. I was raised a Protestant and knew nothing about this peaceful religion. 

An elderly Asian man of some advanced years approached me. I stood nervously as he slowly shuffled his way over to me. His short strides made the short walk across the floor into an epic journey. When he finally reached me, he bowed his bald head to me in respect. I followed suit and reciprocated his humble gesture. 

He again stood upright, supporting himself with an intricately carved staff. The details of the engravings were astounding. It had to have been made by someone who dedicated his entire life to that one craft. Something about the wood from which it was made did not seem normal. The rings from the tree ran at an angle rather than horizontally. This meant that someone cut the staff diagonally from a massive tree. The rings were in such close proximity with one another, it was obvious it came from an ancient tree, a tree that did not have to compete for sunlight. 

I waited until the wrinkled old man stood upright before I did so myself. Being fully ignorant of the etiquette and customs of these people, I thought the best way to go about things was in the same manner as they. I did not want to come across as being rude, so I tried to be as respectful as possible. 

Without saying a word, the venerable monk brushed the back of his soft hand against the side of my head. A smile spread across his face, and I felt like he found joy in my pain. He then turned away from me and bid me to follow him. Everyone else in the temple was in their bare feet, so I removed the shoes from my own feet before proceeding. 

It took this old man forever to make his way across the floor, and I grew very impatient. When my patients finally wore out, I opened my mouth to say something. I probably would have said something rude. 

As if anticipating my actions, the old man stopped in his tracks. Turning his head back toward me, he pressed his index finger against his lips. He knew I was about to speak and stopped me before I got that far. I knew this was a very wise man, a very wise man indeed. 

Trying to calm myself, I followed the man into a chamber in the back of the temple. It was a beautifully adorned room. Silken banners in red and orange hung from the top of the walls, falling a few inches short of the floor. In the center of the room stood an iron candleholder set in layers forming the unmistakable shape of a pyramid. I knew absolutely nothing about the customs and traditions of these monks, but I still felt like this ornament was very out of place. 

The venerable man stood quietly with his eyes closed. I was tempted to take a seat on one of the orange silken pillows that littered the floor, then I thought about Mom’s “not for sitting on” furniture. I decided it best that I continued to stand. The old monk must have been testing my patients because we stood there for close to an hour. 

I was just about ready to give up and walk out. Like he anticipated my thoughts, a younger monk entered the room. Taking his place by his elder, the new arrival bowed and began to speak. 

“The Master greets you to his temple,” the younger man said. It was as if he were speaking the thoughts of the old man. 

“You are a very unsettled man,” he stated observantly. “There is a pathway along life’s great journey that can lead you to the solace you seek.” 

With these words, the old man smiled and nodded his head toward me. 

“Can-can you make my nightmares stop?” I asked in desperation. 

The old man put his hand on the shoulder of his younger companion. As he did, the younger man said, “The only way to stop one’s dreams is to stop one’s life.” 

I could not believe what I heard. These were supposed to be peaceful, kind, and caring people. If I understood correctly, the monk was telling me to end my life. Did they want me to commit suicide? Like he said, the only way to stop one’s dreams is to stop one’s life. 

The old man shook his head as the other said, “You must learn to defeat your dreams, not end them. Your shoulders bear a heavy burden, be it of your own creation or not.” 

The old man waved his palm parallel to the floor. Nodding his head yet again, the old man signaled for the young man to continue. 

“Your answer will take you on a long journey. You will find what you seek in the land now called Arizona.” 

These men were being awful specific in their observations. It was like they already knew everything about me. That was an impossibility as I only entered the temple several hours ago. The old man then shuffled slowly out of the room. With him gone, the younger monk said no more. I tried to get him to clarify these cryptic answers. 

“Only the Master knows,” he said. “Study this room and it will give you your answers.” 

I became so frustrated, I could scream. I thought I would find peace here, but instead I found only more annoyance. Anger right then only served to stack on top of my fear of sleep. I was only standing in a room with silken banners of red and orange with a scattering of pillows on the floor. The only thing that really seemed to be any kind of a clue was the pyramidal candle stand in the center of the room. 

I walked a circle around the dark-iron stand being careful not to disturb any of the pillows on the floor. Nothing especially notable was to be found on the stand of light. I knew that these priests did not bring me in here just to jerk me around. They had a reason. My task now was to figure out what that reason was. I repeated that young monk’s last statement in my head over and over. 

With these cryptic words burned into my mind, I once again began to walk around what must have been an altar. This time, I did not pay attention to the candles. Instead, I watched the rest of the room as I moved. The flickering candle light fell on one stack of pillows in such a way it appeared to be the opening of a cave. It occurred to me then that the stand was not the clue. The clues were the images created by the light from that stand. 

With each step, I would stop and examine the room for anything else that might have been a sign for me. Instead of stepping over the pillows, I began to move around them. The frustration and anger I felt only minutes prior began to change to joy. As the room revealed more and more of its secrets, hope began to fill my heart. I think I was looking at a map. As I moved around the room, I began to see what looked like landmarks. 

I studied the room for hours. The longer I stayed in there, the more obvious the clues became. The sudden realization of how much time passed struck me. Finding my way back to the main chamber, I headed back through the door and into the street. I had finals in about six hours, and I had no sleep at all. I knew the few hours I could sleep would do me more harm than good. It was best I just stayed awake. 

Instead, I took a peaceful walk around the campus. I never realized how beautiful the grounds were. It struck me as quite magnificent. Some of the older buildings crawled with ivy, and the newest buildings were architectural works of art. Most of the time I spent at the university, I spent in class. When I was not on campus, I was in my small lonely apartment. I watched the sun rise in the east which illuminated the clouds with the most beautiful oranges and reds I ever saw. Despite my lack of sleep, I felt rested and free. 

With my mind free and clear, I did very well on the last of my finals. No demon plagued my dreams for three nights straight. It was not that very often that I had such peace during my slumber. I could not help but believe those monks somehow helped me with my terrorizing nightmares. Perhaps some prayer they raised up was heard by some higher being. Whatever the reason, I could not be more thankful for the rest. 

With my finals finished, I had a whole week off before my first summer session began. I sat in my apartment playing a game when the email icon popped up on my smart phone. I started to ignore it, but finally decided to check it. It was a good thing that I did because it was something miraculous. 

The email came from the human resources director at the closest NEVM office building. The email offered me the opportunity for a paid summer internship, in Arizona. The company was setting up a new office, and they wanted me to design their computer network system. 

I called the number from the email first thing in the morning. If I took the internship, the company offered to set up and pay for the following fall semester. In addition, the internship offered me six credit hours. This was too obvious a sign, so by no means would I turn it down. I would receive another email in a day or two with all of the arrangements. 

To my despair, my night terrors returned that very night. I awoke just before sunrise screaming and dripping with my sweat. My eyes darted around the room as if I were going to find something tangible, something unspeakable skulking in my room. As with every other morning like this, I found nothing that did not belong. 

I climbed out of bed and shook the dark thoughts from my head. I hit the floor and got dressed in my nicest clothing. I planned to return to the temple to thank the monks for their help. This time, I made sure I put on my whitest socks. I knew I would be removing my shoes when I entered the building. 

I wandered around for hours. I was sure I remembered where the place was, but an old run-down house occupied the address. Assuming I must be off by a street or two, I began to look for the temple. I walked all through the area for hours and found nothing like what I sought. I stopped one man out mowing his yard and asked him if he knew where I could find the place. 

The man seemed quite offended by my question. 

“We aint’ got no devil churches around here boy, just good Christian folk,” the man snapped. “You want to learn karate you better take yer butt to China.” 

I withdrew from the man like a frightened child. He seemed to be very serious about his statement. I was not about to argue, and I was not going to correct the cultural mistakes of his statement. I crossed to the other side of the street and quickly walked out of view of the racist old man, although that did not deter me from my search. I continued to walk the sidewalks of the community hoping to again find that peaceful sanctuary. I walked until blisters stung my feet. Finally, I removed the chafing shoes and made the painful walk to my apartment. 

The only explanation I could fathom was I simply scoured the area on the wrong side of town. The temple was quite large, and I do not know how I could have missed it unless I was in the wrong place. I so wanted to thank them for their guidance, but when I got home an email awaited me. 

NEVM made all the arrangements and I was to leave in two days. A stipend deposited into my account so I could buy luggage and new clothing. The ticket was attached as a PDF document. There was a lot to do and very little time to do it. 

I did a bachelor clean-up of my apartment and hit the department store at the mall. I found a set of luggage that looked perfect. It made me think of the business men who worked with my father when I was only a child. I purchased some very nice professional clothing and some lavish travel accessories. I spent the most on a pair of shoes. Father always said you could tell a lot about a business man by the shine of his shoes. I bought the shoes and designed the rest of my new wardrobe around them. 

The morning of my flight, I woke covered in sweat and swinging my hands before my face as if fending off an attacker. This was the first time I ever awoke this violently, and unfortunately it would not be my last. I jumped out of the bed and hid behind my dresser. Something terrified me, and its presence was all but tangible. I knew something else was in the room with me. 

I remained frozen for several minutes. I grabbed a stick I kept beside my bed and slowly made my way across the room. Although I could not see anything, I could feel something watching me. It was not my imagination. Something was in the room with me. 

Then I noticed my shadow. The room was dim and the light came at me from several directions. Regardless my shadow remained perfectly formed. I virtually saw its eyes staring into mine. It was darkness absolute. Nothing hidden by it could be seen. The wall, books, and my bed were cloaked in complete darkness. It remained this way for ten minutes. 

A loud truck flew past my apartment building, and the roar jolted me into attention. When I looked back to the darkness, I found everything looked as it should. The inky blackness that stared at me with its demonic eyes was no longer there. For the first time, I got a clear glimpse at the horror that haunted my dreams. I stood there for a while waiting for the thing to return. 

Eventually, I came to my senses and rushed to finish packing my belongings. NEVM sent a car to take me to the airport, and I still had packing to do. I quickly threw on some clothes and stuffed everything I could into my luggage and rushed out the door. By the time I left my apartment, the car was already there for thirty minutes. I supposed he was in no hurry since driving was all he did. 

I never really looked at my plane ticket until I checked in at the airport. The company paid for me a first-class seat. I never flew first-class before. I could not wait to see what it was like. 

My twenty-second birthday passed a few months ago, and I was glad to be able to have a few drinks. The flight attendant offered me some Champaign. When I found out it came free with first-class, I probably drank more than I should. I rarely imbibed alcoholic beverages; I made the journey to intoxication quite rapidly. The attendant must have noticed because she stopped offering me drinks and offered me food instead. 

I was not sure what went on next, but before long I reclined in my chair with a pillow and drifted off to sleep. Dear God, why did they let me go to sleep? I cannot say with any kind of certainty how long I slept before my dreams began. In the subconscious world, time made its own rules; the boundaries of the physical universe had no place there. 

For the first time, I remained lucid as my nightmare unfolded. I found myself standing atop a massive stone pyramid. It made me think of the pyramids found in Peru, but no stairs led from the bottom to the top. Dense darkness surrounded me and made it impossible for me to see the bottom. The stone appeared freshly cut, not like the eroded stones that comprised the Mayan pyramids. I did not understand how I climbed to the top of the monument, but I suppose in the dream world that did not matter. I was up here and that was all that mattered. 

Directly overhead, a full moon beamed down bathing the pyramid with its cool light. The direct angle of the celestial orb created shadows on all sides of the pyramid dropping one tier to the next. Only the very edges of the lower tiers were visible. I thought I could make out the lowest tier of the stone construct, but the ground upon which it rested hid in absolute darkness. 

Several hundred yards away, encircling me in all directions stood a single large craggy cliff. The canyon walls rose to stand hundreds of feet above me. From where I stood, I saw no way down and no way out. 

I stood there for the boundless time that dreams provide growing evermore fearful as the minutes progressed. The moon remained in the same position as I stood there glowing in all of its glory. The orb, like everything else, obeyed no natural laws. Its size was massive appearing in the sky, as large as the sun. 

In time, the moon began to eclipse. This process seemed to be following the flow of normal time. Whatever blackened the moon, it was not the Earth. Something very high in the sky positioned itself between the moon and me. Something not from the natural world, something sinister, choked out the light above me. 

My heart raced, and my pulse throbbed in my wrists. The terror I felt this morning intensified tenfold. As the moon became progressively obscured, I began to hear sounds below me. I forced myself to look down to see what created the horrific sounds. 

Something crawled up the sides of the pyramid. At the rate they ascended, they would be upon me in minutes. I knew they would reach me as soon as the moon disappeared from sight. My body trembled as I hopelessly searched for an escape. I continued the futile effort as I began to hear the sounds of rock crashing upon rock. The walls of the canyon broke apart and crashed somewhere down in the abysmal darkness. 

I lost all hope. If the crumbling cliffs did not crush me, the things climbing the pyramid would. My desperation came to an end. I resigned myself to the fact that I would die and set my soul to ease. Everyone and everything has an end. If this was to be mine, then so be it. 

Just then I saw a flicker of pale blue light underneath my feet. Embedded in the surface was a massive sapphire. Out of it a light shone as a heavenly beacon. I knelt down to touch it, but I never made it that far. 

The things crawling up from below reached me before my hand touched the stone. I saw them rush upon me, and I realized what I was up against. I recognized the beings enveloping me. The first time that I can recall seeing one was this morning, but I knew it was they who haunted my dreams. That thing of darkness that followed me out of my dream, that thing that posed as my shadow came from this world. 

The hellish beings rushed over me with such force, they sent me flying. Clearing the edges of the pyramid, these unknown things grappled me tightly dragging me down into the infinite darkness. All I could do was scream. 

Light once again came into view. I opened my eyes to see two flight attendants gently shaking me awake. Swears flowed from my mouth and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I tried to jump out of my seat in an attempt to escape my terror. The two male attendants bore down on me tightly. I screamed. I told them to turn around. Instead, they grappled me to my seat. 

Behind the two men, posing as their shadows, were two perfectly formed figures of absolute darkness. I could discern no physical features with the exception of the eyes. Those red eyes with the orange pupils stared directly at me. I could see a smile in those eyes. The next moment, the two forms sank through the floor of the airplane and vanished. 

I continued to scream in a desperate attempt to be away from these hitchhikers from the dream world. As far as I knew, these things were still onboard the aircraft. I shouted for someone to search the plane, to make sure those things were gone. The two men holding me would not release their grip. The more I insisted we were not alone on this plane, the tighter their hold on me became. 

I knew my claims sounded outrageous and insane, but it was the truth. There was nothing I could do to make these airline employees believe something otherworldly was onboard with us. They would never believe my claims that something demonic followed me out of my dreams. I would not believe it if I did not witness it firsthand. Realizing it was a futile effort to try to make these people understand, I allowed myself to calm down. 

After a few minutes, I pushed the panic from my forethoughts and began doing as the two men said. Once they were sure I would not resume my struggles, they released their strong grip on me. I allowed them to explain what I already knew. One of them explained that I was sleeping when I began to scream. When he told me I was having a nightmare, I wondered if he was stupid or if he thought I was. Either way, I allowed him to talk as my eyes slowly scanned about the cabin. 

The shadow demons did not reappear again during the remainder of the flight. One female attendant offered me another drink to help me settle my nerves, but I assured her that I was fine now. I think it was the alcohol that made me doze off in the first place. I convinced her that I only experienced a terrible nightmare, but now I was okay. I almost expected there to be a team of orderlies waiting for me with a straight-jacket when we landed and disembarked from the plane. 

Instead, I found that NEMV already reserved me a car at one of the better rental places, but I still had too much alcohol in my blood to be driving. I took a cab to the nearest hotel where I spent the night. I went back in the morning to pick up my car if I could only get back to sleep. I did not really want to go to sleep, but my body was literally exhausted. Besides, the thought of going to sleep and encountering these things again terrified me; I had to get some rest. I needed to be clear minded before I drove across the desert tomorrow morning. 

The thought of again fighting with these dark entities horrified me so much that it made me sick to my stomach. I was sure the alcohol did not help this any. I could not get the image of their red and orange eyes out of my mind. That devilish gaze burned clearly into my memory. I already ushered at least three of these beings from the nether reaches of the dream world into the physical realm. Who knows how many of the things bridged the gap from one reality to the next over my two decades of night terrors? Every morning I awoke screaming from my unholy nightmares, I probably brought some of these things across with me every time. 

I managed to purge these thoughts from my mind long enough to drift off to sleep. Those shadows apparently left me alone, because I woke up the next morning feeling rested and refreshed. After a nice steamy shower, I called the front desk to summon me a taxi. By the time I packed up and made it to the lobby, the car was already waiting for me. 

I took my time checking out when the associate suggested I might want to hurry. When the cabs around here waited for five minutes for the passenger to arrive, they turned on the meter and began charging for the time. I did not really care. I still had plenty of travel funds left from my travel stipend. I would not begin this morning in a stressed hurry. I felt calm and at peace, and I would not let something as petty as a running meter ruin that for me. I had a long road ahead of me. 

Once I returned to the airport to pick up my rental, I stopped off at a truck stop to get me a Styrofoam cooler, ice, bottled water and some snacks. According to my GPS system, I was looking at a little more than a three-hour drive. My flight half of the way across the country took only a few minutes longer than that. The long lonely drive was not something I looked forward to, but my spirit lifted a little when I learned the vehicle had satellite radio. I knew way out in the middle of nowhere to where I was headed, it would be very difficult to impossible to pick up any broadcast radio stations. 

I drove for an hour and only passed another car every ten minutes or so. I passed neither homes nor any other structures, but I occasionally drove by a dirt road leading off of the main. Where those went, I did not care. My directions stated I was to stay on this road until I reached my destination. 

The red of the desert became seriously monotonous and began to grate on my nerves. I did find some of the geological formations very interesting. Ten minutes later I spotted a mesa that snapped my thoughts back to that Buddhist temple. The remains of this ancient volcanic rock possessed orange and red stripes that reminded me of the alternating curtains in that pyramid room of the monastery. 

Only a few miles further along the road, I saw an odd rock formation that was reminiscent of the first stack of pillows to which I took notice. Immediately after this wondrous formation, a dirt road to my left appeared to lead out that way. I could not say what, but something within me knew I should take this detour and head away from the main highway. 

Ignoring all logic, I turned onto the rough, red dirt road. It surprised me how well the car took the off-road drive. I would not think that a luxury car could handle the rough and uneven terrain. 

I realized the gas gauge indicated only half a tank remained, and I seriously considered turning around. So that I could determine my precise location, I activated the GPS aspect of my phone. The weather popped up on my phone on its own, and my blood ran cold. According to the weather app on my phone, tonight would be a clear night and a rare lunar eclipse was to take place. Checking my location, I found I was in the perfect area to experience the total eclipse. 

The memories of that dream with the step pyramid rushed back into my thoughts like a raging river. The thought of what I might find scared me so much, my body went rather numb. My thoughts were interrupted when I found a cave entrance framed with giant, flat stones. Whatever I was supposed to find, I knew I would find it in there. I grabbed my flashlight and four flares out of the trunk. I decided to take a first aid kit that was in the trunk with the flares. I might hurt myself in the darkness in the crust of the earth, so some supplies may come in handy. The last thing I grabbed were my three remaining bottles of water floating in the melted ice inside the cooler. 

When I packed my luggage, I thought to bring the book bag that I normally used for school. I do not know why, but something inside me told me I should take it along with me. Now I was glad that I did. I placed everything, with the exception of the flashlight into the satchel and threw it over my shoulders. With that done, I began the hike up to the mouth of the cave. I could not believe how closely it matched the pillow formations of that strange temple. 

I guess I misjudged the size of the rock outcropping encasing the cave opening because the walk took much longer than I expected. By the time I reached it, I saw the cavern yawned open nearly twenty feet in height. 

I paused for several minutes contemplating what horrors awaited me within. Perhaps I was to face something much worse than the red-eyed shadow demons that used me as a transport from the dream world to this one. The thought that I may never exit this place once I entered made me vomit. My head swam with the idea that this could very well be the last time I ever looked upon the yellow sun. This could be the last time that I felt the life-giving warmth of its rays. 

I swallowed my fear and mustered every bit of courage inside me. Holding my breath, I took my first step into the solid darkness. Twenty feet into the stone corridor, the light from the sun provided me with no more help. 

When I turned on the flashlight, I was both grateful and disappointed. The bulb glowed very brightly. This allowed me to see well, but it also meant the batteries were going to burn out that much faster. 

Looking at the smooth decline before me, I pressed on deeper into the earth. The cave seemed too straight and too consistent in size to be natural. When I eventually hit a plateau, I knew why. Underneath my feet, I saw the floor of the passageway comprised of tightly fitting red stones. What made it even more unsettling was the fact that the stones were not uniform in shape, yet a slip of tissue paper could not fit between the seams. I brushed my hand over the crimson cobblestones and found the floor to be so smooth I could not feel where one stone ended and the other stone began. 

It became obvious I was not in a cave; I was on a road. A long forgotten ancient people, for whatever reason, built this road which continued deeper and deeper into the ground. Once I passed the first landing, I saw more signs this cavern was in fact an ancient road. The road stretched so deep into the ground that the light from the flashlight saw no end. 

Occasionally I saw a small grotto carved into the walls. They were probably pull overs for people to rest as they ascended or descended the steep sloping road. When I reached the fourth landing, I made a shocking discovery. Initially I thought the darkness played tricks on my mind. Carved into the walls at each landing was a small grotto. All of them were empty. This one was not. 

It contained remnants of what must be a wagon. Metal made up a majority of the drawn vehicle. The wooden wheels rotted to dust as had any ropes or yokes that may have held the beasts to the vehicle. The alloy that made up a majority of the wagon did not resemble any metal I saw before now. It almost appeared to be glass filled with metal flakes or glitter. I tapped my flashlight against it and I did not hear the clink of glass; I heard the ping of metal upon metal. 

My skin burned with stinging goose bumps with what happened next. The metal began producing an illumination of its own. It started at the point where I hit the wagon and spread to cover its entire surface. In what must be the front of the wagon, I saw two skeletons I could not identify. By the looks of them, they must have been some form of beasts of burden. Their form was somewhat bovine in nature with several marked differences. The skulls belonged to animals that no longer walked the Earth today. The legs did not end in hooves like most of the beasts of burden of modern times. Instead, four large feet terminated in six long toes closely resembling thick finger bones. 

The more I examined the strange skeletons, the less recognizable they became. I never heard of such skeletons having ever been discovered. I think I would remember something as strange as these. I finished my minor in paleontology, but nothing in my studies prepared me for the arrangement of bones in front of me. 

The wagon faced toward the downward slope, so I assumed the riders must have been traveling deeper into the cavern rather than heading out. By the looks of the burden animals, I shuddered to think what the driver of the wagon looked like. No real reason existed for me to expect to see the ancient remains of the wagon’s driver, but the thought petrified me none-the-less. 

After drinking half a bottle of water, I resumed my hike deeper into the bowels of the earth. By my own estimate, I was at least five or six hundred feet below the level of the opening. I could not tell how much further the road stretched as the level plateaus obscured the section of the tunnel that followed. I traveled every bit of a mile or two and, according to the timepiece on my wrist; I was already close to my third hour underground. I worried my flashlight would not last much longer. 

Conserving my batteries became a major concern, so I decided to give it some rest. I popped a cap off of one of the four flares. I threw it as far down the tunnel as I could, and then I walked down behind it. I reached the next level section and tossed the flare further still. Unfortunately, I barely passed the grotto of the fifth level before the flare burned itself out. The problem I now face was whether or not to ignite another flare or to turn back on the bulb of my electric torch. 

The sun shining on the surface world would set soon if it did not already. No turns or cross roads presented themselves; I thought the road would never come to an end. The corridor appeared singular and unending. 

Another flare and two levels further, I spotted what had to be the remnants of the person who drove the wagon I found earlier. The clothing on the body remained, but even from a distance I could see the flesh long ago turned to dust. At first, fear prevented me from approaching any closer. If the wagon animals were so strange, I could not fathom what their owner would look like. I wanted to avoid approaching anywhere the time bleached bones, but if I was to proceed, I had no other choice than to pass by the remains. Regardless, it terrified me to think of what the bones would reveal. 

My batteries continued to drain as I stood there motionless. That thought alone pushed me forward. If a long journey still remained before me, I did not want to be left in absolute darkness. I wanted to flee. I wanted to run back to the surface. I did not want to proceed any further, but I already came this far. I had to know what awaited me at the bottom of the road. 

Cautiously, I approached the body as if I expected it to stand to greet me. When I drew close enough, I saw that no skull remained with the rest of the body. I suppose it fell free from the neck of the corpse and long ago rolled further into the earth. All of the remaining bones appeared intact. 

The skeleton was much taller than that of a human. It had six fingers on each hand, but only three toes on each foot. With the exception of a few marked differences, the bones appeared relatively human. One of the major differences was that the bones appeared bluish-black in color. I initially thought it was a result of extreme age. Upon closer inspection, I found something infinitely stranger. 

The color came from carbon fibers lacing on the inside and outside of the bones. So well were the fibers incorporated, no doubt in my mind existed the fibers were a natural part of this person. Such incredible intertwining could not be done this well after death. Something with a skeletal structure such as this would be difficult to impossible to damage by today’s standards. By the looks of it, this individual died from exhaustion, dehydration, or starvation. 

Even more unusual than the skeleton were the clothes holding the bones like a sack. They appeared to be made from a mineral fiber like asbestos or something similar. I moved the beam of the flashlight down the tunnel for a moment, and noticed something very abnormal. The clothing worn by this ancient humanoid proceeded to emit a light of its own. I do not know if the crystalline fabric trapped the rays of my flashlight or if it reacted to the light and now produced its own energy. 

I spent more time examining this eons-old corpse than I should. Once I finally went on my way, after drinking the rest of that bottle of water, I turned off my flashlight and sparked up another flare. I placed the empty bottle next to the wall. The burned-out flare lay on the path a mile or so back. In the case I never made it back to the surface, I left some indication of my passage into the earth. Perhaps one day someone will find these artifacts and know I was here. 

I tossed the flare further down the road and it moved slightly out of view. The burning flare rolled out of sight, probably because it rolled past another landing. Although it was not directly visible, the red light the flame produced was still in view. My eyes adjusted quickly to the decreased light, and it became much easier to see the walls, ceiling, and floors of the tunnel. 

I spotted a cylindrical object shortly after the next landing. From a distance, I could not make out what the object was. I assumed it must have been a container of some sort left by the beings that once used this road. When I drew closer, I realized I was looking at a skull. The skull was obviously not human. Just like the beasts of burden a level prior, the skull did not resemble anything I ever saw or heard of before in my life. 

The skull did not display the white bleached appearance of the bones of any normal being. Under the red light of the flare, the carbon fiber laced skull appeared to be solid black. My stomach churned, and I struggled to push the fear that flooded my heart and mind. Fighting my instinct to run, I quickly approached what remained of the head of that long dead being. 

Kneeling down, I picked up the skull and used the hissing red flare to illuminate its face. My eyes fell upon a face that was strangely familiar to me. The cylindrical skull with the elongated face was a spitting image of the megaliths of Easter Island. Those giant, timeless stone faces were obviously carved in the image of beings such as this one. 

Carefully I sat the skull back on the ground. I stood it up so that the fleshless face stared down the tunnel. I thought about the first flare and that plastic bottle I left behind. If someone did find these in the future, they would know that I was here, but they would have no idea of who I was. 

I removed my wallet from my back pocket. Next to the skull, I placed my driver’s license, several green bills of American money, and my wallet. Now, if anyone else did discover this pathway into the depths of the earth, they would know who I was and approximately when I was here. 

I took one last look at the time, and then I removed the battery from my watch. The hands of my time piece stopped ticking displaying the exact time I turned it off. By my estimate, the moon would begin to eclipse in another hour or so. Somehow, I knew I must reach the bottom of this road soon or the consequences would be dire. 

Quickly, I downed another bottle of water and dropped it to the floor. This third flare burned dimly and would be out within minutes. I struck the fourth flare and threw it down the road before me. I did not know how much longer this road was, so I increased my pace to a jog. I had no idea of how much road I had left in front of me, so I did not want to waste any time finding out. 

By this time, I walked every bit of five miles. Keeping in mind the rise over run equation for a slope, I was more than an half a mile underground. That was about the height of the canyon walls that appeared around me in my dreams. I knew I must be close to the bottom. 

At my increased pace, I covered much more distance in a shorter period of time. If my dreams were any indicator at all, I should reach the bottom very soon. As I trotted down the sloping tunnel, I picked up that last flare and continued to toss it to illuminate the road before me. 

With my flashlight in hand, I ran as fast as I could without falling. Instead of a sense of relief, a sense of accomplishment; when I finally reached the end of the road, I came to an abrupt halt. Petrified with fear, I saw the road opened up into an unsupported stone bridge. I saw no bottom, no ceiling, and no walls. The only thing within range of the beaming flashlight was that single stone bridge. 

When I finally approached, I saw the bridge carved from the very same bedrock stone as the subterranean road. It began just inside of the tunnel, one single long piece of stone leading me onward. The stone around the bridge was carved away, leaving only the path before which I stood. 

Swallowing my terror and ignoring the churning in my gullet. I ran; I ran two or three hundred feet and the bridge came to an abrupt end. With the span of the bridge to my back, I shined the flashlight over the edge. Tears welled up in my eyes as I observed tier after tier of twenty feet high levels stacked below me. I stood atop a giant stone step pyramid, the same pyramid from my dreams. 

I jolted and nearly crumpled to the ground when I began to hear the sound of rock crashing upon rock. I turned to flee, but the bridge was what created the noise. The bridge fell apart and crashed on the consecutive levels of the pyramid. As I watched my escape crumble to the floor, I heard the sound of stone cracking above me. The massive cavern around me was about to collapse and I was stuck at the top of the only structure in sight. If the domed earth above me fell in, I would be crushed under thousands of tons of rock. 

My tomb began to fall in on me and I could now see the bright cool light of the moon. The ceiling broke apart and crumbled into nothingness. It seemed whatever force drove me to this location prevented me from being pulverized underneath the collapsing cavern. Stone and dirt fell in directly above me, but before it reached only a hundred feet above me, it faded away like as many puffs of smoke. When the roar of the quaking bedrock above me, all that remained was a singular cliff a half mile high encircling me. 

The Earth began to move between the sun and the moon, but there were still a good ten minutes before the eclipse would be complete. Under the bluish light of the full moon, I saw much more of the structure upon which I stood. Level after level progressed into an unending darkness below, the pyramid rising out of a seeming abyss. On the lowest tier visible, I saw movement. 

A hoard of the dream shadows climbed out of the inky blackness below. It was exactly as in my dream. I watched that darkness that hitchhiked with me from my sleep climbing the ancient pyramid. Desperately I searched for some way to save myself as the formless red-eyed demons ascended the structure. The moon plunged into darkness as the Earth’s shadow obscured it from the life-giving sun. Panic so intense it made my blood sting whipped me into desperation. I wished I could remember something from my dream that gave me even the slightest glimmer of hope. 

A warm sensation washed over me when I saw a blue sapphire beneath my feet begin to glow. I stood baffled for a moment, and then I remembered the gemstone from my prophetic dreams. I reached down to touch the heavenly light, and a small alter rose out of the highest level of the pyramid. The sapphire rose in the small stone pillar until it was nearly even with my ribs. Reaching out with my left hand, I pressed my palm to the gleaming jewel. 

Suddenly, the tiers of the pyramid began to glow with an unearthly light. First the lowest level of the pyramid illuminated, and then each consecutive tier ignited with the mystical glow. My hair stood on end from the static now filling the air. With eight levels under me still to activate, I felt an intense heat begin to grow. With each successive tier filling with the holy energy, the static and temperature increased exponentially. 

As the levels illuminated, it tore the forms of the climbing demons asunder. The ethereal dream creatures were obviously no match for the energy produced by the pyramid. Unfortunately, the heat became more than I could bear, and I removed my hand from the blue sapphire switch. 

The light radiating from each tier of the stone structure instantly ceased. I watched as the red eyes of more of the intangible entities of darkness resumed their rush upward to me. Once again, I pressed the palm of my hand to the clear blue gem. Again, the pyramid started the initiation process. As before, the tiers of the ancient construct filled with energy one by one. Although I could see the lowest level of the pyramid, the ground around it seemed to swim in an inky blackness. Perhaps it stood upon no surface at all. Perhaps it rose through the earth from another world. 

As it did previously, the shadow beings were being eradicated by the radiating tiers of the pyramid. I could feel every atom in my body vibrating from the intense energy. With only four levels remaining cold inert stone, I noticed the hair falling from my head. Blisters appeared on my arms and I felt the rest of my skin burning from the heat. 

When only two tiers remained, my body was so weak I could barely remain standing. Sparks filled my eyes and my mind grew cloudy as the energy of the structure took its grueling toll on me. The pain was excruciating, and it took everything in me to hold my hand upon the blue stone. 

Finally, the tier upon which I stood flared up with the otherworldly energy. The radiation blinded me as fluid seeped from the charring blisters covering every inch of my skin. At my feet lay the hair that once covered my head and the soles of my shoes melted out from under me. My hand now began to show exposed bone and muscle tissue. Never did I imagine pain could ever reach this intensity. 

Throughout my life I suffered in terror. These shadow ones tormented me every time I slept, using me as their conduit into this world. It was an invasion, and I stopped it. 

My heart stopped and the flow of blood to my brain ceased. I met with my destiny. I saved the world and no one would ever know. I thwarted the invasion, they were coming to take back a world that once belonged to them, and all I had to do was keep my hand on that dead man’s switch. 

 Copyright 2019 ©

Myself

Word Count: 3,177

Infinitely more realities, alternate universes, or perhaps other dimensions some may say, exist than the human brain could possibly imagine. It boggles the mind trying to grasp the idea that there exists an infinite number of infinitely sized universes. Theoretical physicists were only beginning to scratch the surface in their understanding of the nature of reality. 

I wish I knew nothing. I wish I could be as ignorant as the rest of humanity. Others cannot see the things I can see, and I envied their blindness. Countless generations ago my ancestors were blessed with the knowledge of and ability to see these other worlds. They called it a blessing, but I called it a curse. 

When I slept, I did not dream. Instead, surreal visions of places unknown dominated my sleep. I saw hellish worlds, worlds of bliss and worlds very similar to my own. Each morning, as soon as I awoke, I recorded my visions in a ledger. I kept my ledger and a pencil on the night stand because I wanted to make sure I documented the perplexing visions before they faded from memory. 

Until I was thirteen years old, I could not see these other dimensions all the time. When I did, I had absolutely no control over what worlds would appear to me. It took years of practice to master my control over what I did and did not see. 

Some of the beings from these other dimensions overlapped my universe enough that they could slip through. Some of these beings intermingled with the Earth Terrans while others remained hidden. Certain beings wanted to cause harm to humanity, some were benevolent, and others remained completely indifferent. 

I was first able to see these other realities immediately upon reaching the age of six. It was this way with all the males in my biological family tree. Before my ability blossomed, one of my uncles mysteriously vanished; it was assumed he crossed the threshold of an alternate universe. We had a hell of a time convincing the authorities and my uncles’ acquaintances that nothing sorted occurred. Fortunately, his wife passed away prior to his disappearance, so there was no need to concoct a cover for his absence there. 

Such things occurred every so often with the men in my family. Sometimes one of us slipped through the boundaries between realities and became stranded, unable to return. When there was no wife involved, it made the disappearance much easier to cover up. Any sons understood because we all shared the gift. Daughters were another story. When daughters were involved, things became much more difficult to explain. A more elaborate ruse had to be concocted in such cases. 

Some of my bloodline thought it was their responsibility to police immigrants from one universe to another while others believed it was their place to rid our world of them altogether. Many chose to work with the aliens to our universe to the mutual benefit of both. Countless discoveries were made when the wiser men of our family used the knowledge gained from an alternative reality to make this world a better place for the natives. 

My father broke a long-held rule among the males; he chose to explain our fantastic gift to my mother. Initially things did not turn out well at all. Mother believed he was insane. She left and tried to take me away from him. Mother did not want me to hear, or God forbid believe father’s outlandish tales. I do not know how, but father somehow convinced my mom he was telling her the truth. I am glad because I would be lost when my second site began. 

I can remember that first glimpse through reality as if it happened yesterday. It was a beautiful early Autumn day. Father took the dog for a walk and insisted I come with them. We lived in a scattered community; thick forests congested the areas in between small clusters of homes. A trail worn from decades of use began in our backyard and continued on for miles. It was on this route that we always walked the dog. 

Because the tree coverage was so dense, there was very little undergrowth obscuring the ground. Leaves and pine needles created a barrier which hindered weed growth. This allowed a clear view deep into the forest. 

Shortly after we entered the woods, a sudden case of vertigo washed over me for several moments. Eventually, as my head began to clear, I could feel my father’s strong hands holding me erect. I suddenly became aware of our dog barking, and I heard another dog barking back. No not back, they were barking in unison. 

When my mind cleared enough for me to stand on my feet unaided, I turned my gaze toward the source of the excited shouts of the second dog. Initially I did not know what to think. I was looking into a mirror. At least I felt like I was looking into a mirror. Fifty feet to the right of the trail, I saw another man, boy and dog. 

I did not remember any other walking trails until this one splintered into multiple paths another half mile from here, so I wondered what the others were doing out here. Another few moments later I realized these others paralleled all of our moves exactly. Their clothes were of a different fashion from ours, and the dog was of a different breed. Despite the minor differences, the others were exactly like us. 

My whole world crashed in around me. I did not know if they paralleled our moves or if it was us that mimic theirs.  Were the dogs barking at one another or was it the same dog barking in both places. I tried to ask my father what I was seeing, but he told me to be quiet and pay attention. 

“Be patient my son,” he said. “Try to calm your thoughts and watch closely at everything around you.” 

The reflections of ourselves appeared to be having the same conversation. I was looking across the threads of existence to another universe for the first time, and so was the little boy I was watching. Initially I saw nothing except for that one peculiar scene. My father tried soothing me, explaining I was in no danger, but fear of the unknown gripped me tightly regardless of any assurances. What I saw could not be real, yet there it was. Father saw the others as well but showed very little reaction to them. 

Rubbing his hands on my shoulders, he began to hum. Something about the melody was very soothing and washed my fear and anxiety away. Again, he told me to be silent, quiet the thoughts in my mind and pay attention to my surroundings. An hour passed and I still saw nothing besides the other versions of ourselves. 

Apparently the other me must have seen what he was supposed to see already. The nearly identical versions of us stopped imitating our movements and resumed their walk in the forest. Finally, with the aid of my father, I began to see more than what was there. The trees of the forest faded into almost nothing, and I saw a large number of massive stone structures. They reminded me of the pictures I saw in a book about ancient Egypt. I still saw the forest, but it was nothing more than a vague ghostly image. 

Father asked me what I saw as I scanned across the odd civilization. At first, I ignored him. What I saw commanded all of my attention. When he asked me again, I softly told them what was displayed before me. Something about this revelation pleased Father tremendously. 

I told him of the beings in the city. In no way shape or form were they human. They were like giant, towering amoeba. Their leathery thick, green skin was almost totally transparent. Rather than nuclei in the center there were only what could be called brains in their amorphous bodies. 

There was no doubt the creatures were intelligent. They did after all build the city of polished granite and marble. At least I thought it was granite and marble. I was not sure if the same minerals existed in this reality as were in mine. 

They had no sensory organs in any normal sense of the word. Occasionally two of them partially merged in what I thought was an exchange of information. I could’ve gotten caught in awe of this place if father had not roused me to my senses. 

I looked into his eyes and saw the pride. Over the next several hours, he explained the nature of my second sight. He told me bedtime stories about people who could see people from other worlds, but until now I thought it was fiction. This was the conversation when I learned only the men of my family had the second site. He told me this gift never manifested itself until the male was six years old. 

The vast majority of males in my family could only see into the immediately adjacent realities. My father was overcome with joy when I described the scene that played before me. Occasionally men in my bloodline are born with the ability to see much-much deeper into the string of pearls, the threads of all that is. My sight was powerful. I was a member of this very tiny minority. 

He explained what I saw was an alternate universe occupying the same space as hours. I was only six, so it was close to impossible for me to wrap my arms around it at all. It did not make sense to me how something else, somewhere else could be where we already were. It was utterly baffling. 

During the following years, Father taught me how to control my ability. He could not fathom what it was like to see as much as I, so it was difficult for him to teach me to deal with it. Still, he did help me control my gift enough to preserve my sanity. 

Father was one of the family members who believed in working in cooperation with the others. Initially I followed the same path, but that would later change. My father only saw those at the threshold of our universe and the next. I could see much deeper and trusted the others less and less as I watched them go about their daily activities. 

According to my father, I could cross physically into any reality I could see, but I was too terrified of what could happen if I did. I never made use of this ability at Father’s request and because of my own crippling fear. Whether it was actually possible or not, I was too scared of becoming stranded in a universe that was not my own to find out. The air could be different, or the ambient levels of radiation could be much higher. I did not know if I would be able to adapt to new environments, and Father was unable to answer me this when I asked. The two universes he could see were virtually identical to our own. 

In time I learned to project myself mentally. This could -accurately be referred to as an out-of-body experience. I dared not attempt to move across the threshold in my physical body, but when I projected myself through the ether that connects the whole of existence, I was not perceived by those in the other realities. I felt much safer leaving my body at home and doing my exploring as a ghost. 

I attained years of knowledge in a very short time. When I moved across one universe from my own, time slowed in my universe from my perspective. The further I moved from my own universe; the more time stood still back in my own. This allowed me to spend years studying the vastness of reality without wasting any of my own years. 

In most universes I found only infinite chaos with no definable laws of physics. Among the dimensions remaining only a small percentage supported life as we understand it. The ones I did find occupied usually had inhabitants with a level of violence the same as our own. There were some a little more and some a little less violent than humans. 

I took a special interest in the world of the green amoeba-like beings. Theirs was the second universe for me to see besides my own, and it was far away from my own. I could spend years there, and only a few minutes would pass for my body at home. 

These amoebas, who I came to call “the Grand,” were by far the most peaceful species I encountered in any universe I visited to date. I spent hundreds of years in their universe watching and studying them. When one Grand encountered another, they began a several hour-long ritual of saying hello. They were never in a hurry, and I never once saw one of them commit a single act of violence. It was as if violence was a concept unknown to them. The reason this was such a favorite place for me to visit was because of how blissfully peaceful it was. 

The architectural design of the Grand was absolutely awe inspiring. Blocks weighing tens of tons, all cut in oddly irregular shapes fit together snugly like pieces of a puzzle. I was never sure of their motivation for this, but nowhere in their architecture could one find anything with a right angle. With all the time I spent there, the reason for this is something I have yet to discover. 

Their cities were absolutely awe inspiring. No two buildings looked alike, but despite the vast array of designs there was a sense of uniformity about them. Very few of the structures had roofs, which made sense in this world. 

I never once saw it rain. The weather was always extremely consistent. For hundreds of years the weather remained exactly the same. A thin and even layer of cloud covered the sky, thin enough to allow the large blue sun to shine through. 

A system of underground catacombs equal to the size of the city above ground were a part of every metropolis of the Grand. This is where they did the things they considered to be the most private and sacred such as mating, eating and sleeping. 

The mating ritual of the Grand could include a number of individuals at least two or more. In specially designed chambers, the Grand join together to create what was essentially a massive multi-celled organism. This took anywhere from a few weeks to several years depending on the number involved. Genetic material is traded, and soon after separating the Grand will each sprout a bud. After several years of carrying and nurturing the bud, the growth falls from the parent and becomes a new Grand. 

I made the decision to stay out of the catacombs after my first few visits there. I realized it was a place they considered sacred and private to them. Being the gentle creatures they were, I really felt I should respect their traditions and beliefs on the matter. 

Initially I thought the maze of structures were composed of granite or marble. When I had enough time to look at them closely, I could see the stone resembled Jasper more than rough granite or smooth marble. 

I never thought Jasper could be formed in such large sections; that was, if it was truly Jasper. It occurred to me long ago that the geological properties existing in my home reality may not exist here. That always made me wonder how diverse the laws of physics were from one reality to the next. For this reason, I was ever so happy I left my body safely in my bedroom, in my house and in my own universe. 

It was in my 17th year when I saw the first signs of the invasion. The denizens of the amoeba world enjoyed the peaceful life of harmony with all other life native to that reality. I found great solace when I visited that slow-paced civilization, enjoying the casual and serene ways of life. On this world there was no pain, no frustration, there was no negativity of any sort. 

As I observed several of the Grand carving away at a stone to be used in a newly constructed building, the gentle atmosphere of that beautiful tranquil world congealed into massive storm clouds. The Grand did not know what to think as they watched the dark clouds billow forth from nowhere. 

Such a strange sight was never seen on their world, and I found myself to be as shocked as they. Bolts of deep-red electrical discharge blasted from the black clouds, and wherever it struck the ground it left large smoking craters in its wake. Nothing could have prepared me or the Grand for what happened next. As the smoke from the glowing hot craters cleared away, I saw the forces of the attacking army. 

Thousands of soldiers, some of them bipeds, many of them not, gathered from different realities rushed outward killing every animal-like life-form they encountered. A dimensional vortex, an aperture between worlds remained in the center of the smoking craters. Soldiers poured through the gateways in what seemed like endless numbers. 

The vast majority of the army appeared to consist of a hoard of creatures that had the look of a wild man from the waist up, but a body resembling that of a dire wolf from the waist down. These vicious creatures slaughtered without compassion or remorse. Others appeared reluctant to engage in the slaughter, but participated nonetheless. 

Although the Grand greatly over towered the invading army, they had no means of defending themselves. Violence was a concept with which they were completely unfamiliar. Attempting to flee was not even a thought they considered as this was an unknown idea to them. The innocent and peaceful Grand were slaughtered because they did not know what else to do. 

I could not believe what I was seeing. I watched these benevolent beings for centuries of their time. No where else in the strings of reality did I find a species this peaceful. They were being slaughtered and there was nothing I could do to help them. I watched on in sadness and horror as the army slaughtered every last living being they encountered. 

Out of sheer instinct, I brought myself in for a closer look. One man was obviously the leader. Everyone appeared to be taking orders from him. I willed myself over to him and instantly knew that there was no hope for my world. This army would move from one reality to the next led by an extremely powerful psychic. The man who commanded the slaughter of the peace and tranquil Grand was instantly familiar to me. I was looking at a face I saw many times before. I was looking at a mirror image, an alternate version of myself. 

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