- Midnight Tales -

Eyes that stare out at the horizon. They stare, not because they are looking, but because they can see. They do not want to see, but there is no choice. Once the lids, which are full of sand, slam shut, the eyes open and see what is before them. What really is before them?

I stared for a long moment at the painting. Well not just one painting, but many paintings. They all had captured the same image.

A suburban house that stood alone in an empty neighborhood. Street lamps illuminated a road that wisped into the grassy unknown beyond. The perspective was from the back. There was an in ground pool, a few beach chairs on the side. A set of wooden stairs rose up on the right side to meet a small porch which sat on stilts. It was empty, but led to a large window that casted a reflection of the night landscape. The house was two stories with a basement that had no exit from the back. The first floor had two windows on the left side of the house which is that side you could see, another two upstairs right above them. On the back there was the large window to the deck and one window to the upper left. The house had beige side paneling until the basement level which was a slab of gray concrete. The pool had ripples ever so slightly running across its surface and the moon reflected upon it. The sky was dark with even darker clouds. Somehow the paint that was used conveyed a sense of unrelenting dread, like this place stood out in the middle of an ocean with a storm approaching in the distance. Utter destruction was imminent. Crawling towards its peaceful existence.

There was not just one painting of this house, but twenty,thirty, maybe more. Each one was the same. This lone house at night, the pool reflecting the moon. As I looked I started to notice. There were shadows creeping differently in each painting. The paint blending ever so lightly into the canvas and with the landscape that one could stare and pass by and never whiteness these creatures.

I tore my self form them and look up to the artist. I reminded my self where I was. A local art fair. In the cities library. The man looked tired, he sat in a folded out tall chair. He noticed me staring and snapped out of his own trance.

“Well, what do you think? Any of them take your fancy?” He chuckled getting up and standing to my side.

“So what is the story behind this place?” I asked.

The man rubbed his chin and pursed his lips in a face of deep contemplation then said “I dream it. Every. Night” He took a deep breath blinking a few times to refocus “and I can’t seem to paint anything else. when my brush hits the canvas it’s like”

The artist flashed his hand in front his face

“a trance. When i come to, there it is, the house from my dreams. I will tell you something, when I closed my eyes I hear the cicadas and all the animals around this place. Even before I can see the house and that pool I know where I am. Then I open my eyes, the moon is illuminating the house you know “he points to one of the paintings “Just like this and I stand or sit or what ever I am doing, I can’t move, all I do is watch. I hear the wind blow over the landscape in the dead of night, that silent, no ones around sorta of sound. I’ve sold a few of these hear and there. Resonates with some folks, truth be told. I don’t know what to do anymore. I dream and paint, dream and paint.”

The artists stops talking. There is a long silence between us as others walk by with out even peering over at the houses.

I point to one of the thinly veiled shadows “What are these?”

A laughter comes from the artist as he brushes past his paintings and rummages through a box. He pulls another painting of the house and places it on easel before us. This one is the almost identical as the rest, but there is one difference. The light in the upstairs window is illuminating the room with in. I step closer and squint.

I recoil immediately.

“I never know why it picks the places it picks and I never know who they belong to. I paint them over and over again and present them at these shows. Sometimes people actually buy them, but that’s not the purpose.” The artist says brushing his right hand across the illuminated window. “You liked the terminator films George?”

I know why I can’t take my eyes off of it. The house is slightly different here and there, it throws of the familiar knowledge that I have in my head. The memories, the mental representation, it did not connect.

“How many bodies, George?”

I snapped to look at him. He looks at me with his tired eyes “What do you mean?”

“Come on man, don’t play dumb with me. You can see them. The shadows. I never know if they are the same person or not. How many bodies?”

“You’re crazy, you thinking paintings mean anything?”

“No, but the fact that you can see them, the shadows, means something. I couldn’t tell you why, but I always know who can see them. I see it in their eyes when they look closer. Killers are all the same George. Who has made me their instrument, I can’t tell you. My eyes see what it wants me to see”

I turn away and start to make my way to the exit.

“George, those shadows, they know now. You can’t escape” I hear the artist proclaim.

I walk to my pickup truck and smoothly exit from the library and head down a bit out of town. I pull off down a dirt road and go to check the flat bed of the truck.

I pull the gate.

Panic sets in and I remove the top cover and stare in disbelief at the bed of the truck.

The body is gone.

I put the cover back on and re-latch the hatch. I look up towards the driver door and freeze. Terror pours through me and I all I hear is the artist’s words in my head.

“Those shadows, they know now”

My sister told me of an artists she saw at a art festival who had paintings of the same house. Each one was of the same subject. A house with a pool at night. I thought of many ways to spin this story and the ending came out of now where for me. I had different versions where the main character remembers seeing a pair of eyes out his windows at nigh, which would turn out to be our artist.

I like this concept and I always imagine the painting drawn in a sort of liminal space rendition.

It started one day as I was driving to grocery store. I cruised down the long wooded streets in my 911 Porsche, custom painted blood red with a black leather interior. The wind was whipping through my long blond hair as the radio blared Frank Sinatra’s “My Way”. As I looked into the rear view mirror to check my makeup I noticed a car cruising behind me. Getting closer and closer. I stepped on the gas and pulled away. The car kept up with a steady pace, but did not close in any further. I flicked my eyes back and forth from the road in front to the now pursuing car. I peered at the driver who was just a silhouette. There was something odd about them though. Where the head should be blocking the rear window was clear gap. The head seemed to be crooked, bent off to the right side. I looked forward and slowed as a cross section approached and the light turned red. As I stopped I kept my eyes glued in my mirror as the car approached behind me. The crooked figure did not readjust their head, they barely moved at all. The silhouette approached slowly and now filled my whole view. No matter how hard I tried I could not make out any details. Uneasiness started to set in and I clenched my steering wheel. The figure, with out eyes, seemed to looking right into me. As soon as the light flashed green I gunned it.

They did not pursue.

I brushed off the encounter as just a phantom of my imagination. I soon found that it might not be as simple as that. I gathered most of the items I needed from my shopping list and as I wrapped a corner and entered into an aisle full of pasta and sauce the familiar feeling from the car earlier entered me from the front. Down the long isle, with it’s rows tall to the ceiling fully stocked there was something peeking out just beyond the edge. A head it looked like. It was as if all the light was being sucked into its silhouette. It crested around the corner, unnatural and threatening. All I could do was stare, blinking, seeing if it would disappear from my vision. A few blinks and straining my eyes, the head dissipated, but the shock remained. My cell phone rang. I knew who it was and it was a call that I needed to answer.In private.

I payed for my items and walked back to my car then rushed out of the parking lot back to the main road returning to my house. I redialed the call immediately when I was on the straights and alone.

“It is finished?” I asked.

The voice on the other end answered “Everything is all set. Nothing will come back to you, the other half of payment to be due in one week when everything is settled”

“Excellent work. May I ask how?”

“Stairs, and well, the railing. The rail did a number to his neck. Strangest thing I have seen. An image that doesn’t leave soon”

“Well rest his soul, he is in a better place now, hopefully” a smile broke upon my lips.

“One week”

“You got it, one week” The phone clicked and licked my lips in satisfaction. Checking the rear view mirror I checked my make-up and lip stick. Gorgeous as ever,but not extremely wealthy, yet.

I rounded a right and pulled through tree shaded drives and hills to a private villa. It was modest with two stories and seven acres. Nothing like the estate that would soon be mine. The sun was hitting the hills and sending golden rays right through the trees at me. Saying good bye for the moment and releasing the night time sky above. I set a record of smooth jazz, grabbed a glass of wine and made my way up to the upstairs bedroom. The house was themed in light browns and golds. everything had a soft hue to it, dressed in light richness of Tuscany. I enjoyed the sense of the place, I had picked out most of the furnishings, but for the scale, the feeling of it. It was much to small. Much to primitive. Where was the floor to ceilings Renaissance paintings? The thirty foot crystal mirrors surrounded by marble and diamonds? They rested at the estate. The estate that my brother held.

Or did hold.

My Inheritance was not in my favor and my brother did not agree with exuberance that I demanded and needed. What was the point of life it you were not living it large? To the very best? Especially when it was with in grasp, when I had known it my whole life. I downed the glass of wine. I swung back and forth feeling the intoxication and laughed. It drowned out the jazz. I was wild, manic and filled with slight rage.

Then I saw it. Against the reflection of the upstairs window. The figure or the crooked figure stood or more rather floated in the hallway. It was so clear against the window that I didn’t even spin to look. I ran to the bath room. I slammed the door behind me, locking it and looked towards opening the windows so I could get out. As I fiddled with the windows I heard the door knob shift and spin.

Then I head the lock.

It unlatch with that mechanical thud.

I spun as the door creaked open and the silhouette appeared blocking the whole door way. It hovered off the ground slightly. It was a person. It’s head bent on it’s neck so severely that it was if someone had messed up the mold when they were made. I still couldn’t make out any features, it was still just a black mass, but then it came closer. Silently and then I - I - I

“Well she got a bit further then last time” Doctor Marshal sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

The nurse sighed and looked towards the clock on the wall “Yeah, we will get the whole thing out of her one day. At least I hope. I thought we really had her all there tonight. We sent her back to her room, but she has been complaining about something outside her window. She says there is a shadow waiting.” She shook her head “We never see anything outside the window when we check. It feels like we are losing her doctor.”

“I know, I know. The death of her brother must of hit her pretty hard.”

A shriek came from the hallways and screams came for the nurses. Doctor Marshal jumped up and sprinted to where the commotion was. As he turned the corner and entered the room the nurses were gathered around he saw her.

Brenda Mirth. The women he had just got done talking to.

She lay against the wall facing toward the large window in her room. He stepped slowly in front of her and blocked the window.

He looked. Really looked at her “My god”

Brendass head was snapped to the right in a inhuman angle. Her mouth frozen in a scream, eyes wide and a face etched with pure terror. Laying at the feet was a piece of paper. The doctor picked it up.

It read:

It was good seeing you again.
Love Mitchel Mirth

One day I was driving to dinner and was stretching my neck to one side. I thought that if the person infront of me looked at their rear view mirror They might see a strange sight. A person with their head angled to the side. What if they started seeing the this figure in other places?

Milder was a small mining town quickly drying up in the middle of America. Surrounded by fields a plenty, large meadows and forests it rested as it slowly faded away into the lost generation. While most had moved, there were still some that remained. Older folks that would see the town as their final resting place and families waiting for their kids to get a bit bigger so they could move out.

Ellis and Ricky were two of those kids. About to be freshman in High School, they were both moving this summer to different towns. They had a couple of weeks left to get into trouble and that’s what they did. When the weekend started with a hot Friday afternoon. Ricky looked towards the abandon coal factory as their next adventure. It had closed decades before and had remained a skeleton castle of the past industry. Their parents warned them not to go, but it was mostly fear of the rust and maybe a tetanus shot. They had evaded it long enough. it was now the time.

The sun was high in the sky as they approached from town. Ellis raced forward through the fields towards the giant rusting beast with Ricky nipping at his heels. A large building with silos and chutes rose all around them. Muddy and burnt red smeared every corner of the building. They both crept around the heavy machinery. Each piece lay abandoned in their final resting places. Now stuck being reclaimed by the elements. Worn down by time and neglect. Ellis slowed down as he roped around a large metal bin with a chute coming from the top of it. Ricky rounded the corner and ran into Ellis. They caught each other and stared at the wall.

Red light emitted from a large opened door. The door itself was charred black with stone handles carved with grooves and spikes. The molding around the door was also in stone. Monsters, animals, and faces contorted in strange ways as they stared down and at them. They could feel the heat emitting from the insides.

Ricky moved forward first. Ellis grabbed his arm.

“What is it?” Ellis asked still holding Rickys arm. They both stood still and listened. Sizzling and bubbling leaked out of the steam. Ricky turned to Ellis. His brown eyes wide and full of wonder. They screamed adventure.

“We have to look, who knows what we might find down there?” Ricky glimpsed at the door and then back at Ellis “It looks like something is still going on down there”

Ricky moved forward and Ellis released his grasp. The gray smoke enveloped Ricky and Ellis panicked for a moment, then went in after him.

“Ricky” Ellis coughed as he waved through the smoke. He was descending a set of stairs, smoke emitting from the walls, but the heat was subsiding and as he reached the bottom of the stair well both the heat and steam were gone.

Ellis joined Ricky and they both stood breathless. They were in a large underground cavern and in front of them it looked like a cathedral had been swallowed up by the earth. In full form, the tower and stained glass windows rose into the ceiling. The doors were enourmas,forty feet with massive steel holding them open. Light emitted from the inside casting a array of colors from the stained class onto the caves charred walls.

“I don’t think we are supposed to be here” Ellis whispered.

“No shit, have you ever seen a church underground,this does not seem like a place God would want to be seen in” Ricky said.

This time though, it was Ellis who moved forward. Something emitting form the church called to him, pulled him in before he even thought about it. A moment he was staring at the glass emitting its majestic light and the next minute he was inside. Rows of disheveled pews lay on each side of him and somehow light shined through the stained glass windows from the outside. The ceiling rose into a blackness where chains hung and held the large ornate chandeliers. Black candles the size of his arms sat blazing unnatural gray flames. A thick red carpet ran all the way up to the alter. Beyond the alter was a large slab of gray stone and upon it a man hung from his wrists, which were chained at each corner.

“There is someone up there” Ellis pointed “look” Ricky was now besides him. They moved towards and past the alter. The man was skinny with skin so thin that you could see the rivets in his bones and veins. He had a large gray beard that covered his chest and extended past his feet. His hair on his head did the same. As they studied him, the man gasped for air and shook. The chains rattled and he flipped his head and forth. With his hair cast form his face they could see that his eyes were sewn shut with black string and scars covered his face.

“Who comes” he yelled in a horse voice.

Ellis flinched back, but recovered quickly “What happened to you?” Ellis started to look around “hold on mister, come on Ricky help me look for something to free him”

The man tried to lick his cracked lips “The missionary are starting them so young now a days, how did you slay the abomination?”

Ellis and Ricky stopped and looked at the man. “The what?”

The man took in a sharp breath. “You should not be here”

A roar came from a cave behind the stone slab.

“The tears of the fallen only help one crop grow, the emitting wings of the emissary wont save those that call beyond. We only saw what we were supposed to see” The man grew louder and louder. He then looked straight at Ellis. If he had eyes they would be looking right into him “What lies beyond a fallen angels eyes?”

“Run” Ricky cried as he pulled on Ellis. They tripped down the alter stairs and back through the pews. The man was still yelling and the roars became louder as something monstrously big started to scrap out beyond the stone slab. Both of them look forward and bolted up the stairs and through the steam. They ran and ran until their sight came to the back of the coal collection bin. They both collapsed to the ground and turned back towards the door.

Where the door had carved itself in was now just as rusty wall. Ricky jumped to his feet and rubbed his hands against the course surface.

“That was real right?”

Ellis looked down at his blacked hands and then down at his pants which had ripped when he tripped down the alter stairs. They still held a charred crust on them.

“It was real” Ellis answered breathlessly.

Both Ricky and Ellis returned home in silence. Each one processing what they had experienced. Running the whole thing through their heads over and over again. Going over each detail.

They parted ways and Ellis moved to his room. He sat at his desk in the dark and turned on the desk light. The image of the mans sewn eyes remained with him. Each time he closed his eyes the image was burned into the back of his eyes lids. He could see the fraying in the black string and blood coagulating between the lids.

Then the question rang through him. At first it was a single thought then it repeated over and over until it was painful. He could think of nothing else, it consumed him entirely. His imagination and rationalization started to stretch and tear. He grabbed a note book and a pencil. He tried to get it out on the page, to get it out of his mind. As the charcoal etched the question on the page it became realer. He grit his teeth and tore into the page. The same question over and over again.

He didn’t hear his mom come in. He didn’t hear her scream either.

The only sound was the man asking.

“What lies beyond a fallen angels eyes”

The thought of this came from remembering Roy Battys ending monologue in Blade Runnner.

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”

Seeing things that one would not believe. A question that is thrown out there. It almost seems like nonsense since a human would have no idea what he is talking about. In the context of the movie these lines are unexplained, one-offs, you have no clue what he is really talking about. This is what makes it great. It builds the world, but lets you wonder with your own imagination. It is also showing the difference between the two characters. He is a replicant (bioengineered humanoid), seeing and experiencing things that only a replicant could.

In this story the question is like that, what has this man saw? What does he mean? There is certainly something otherwordly about the place and the monster beyond.

I sat on a large boulder among the field. Surrounding me were large walls of pines and a mountain looming out in the distance. A small stream carved through the meadow and filled the air with a lazy bubbling. I could not remember how I had arrived at this place. One moment I was in my studio apartment downtown San Francisco. Late afternoon, I was sitting enjoying an ice cold beer while staring out my window. Feelings of uncertainty, anxiety and fear from the hole now burning through my bank preoccupied me. I was not paying attention to anything beyond that window pane. I took a sip of beer and the next thing I know I am staring at a gray and snow covered mountain. My hands propped me up on the boulder which was warm to the touch from baking in the sun.

Like falling asleep I did not remember when time ended or when it began. I just was, then was not. I looked around for a moment. There was no one around me. No animals observing my strange idling. Everything was still.

I slid my self off the boulder. As soon as my feet touched the ground it seemed as a symphony of commotion commenced.

The trees began shaking and creaking. The tips whipped back and forth. Tree branches snapped and fell as something scraped and clawed its way to me.

Pain seemed my right palm and I pulled it up to my face. A large circle looked as if it had been carved into it. As I watched, more pain came as marks started to be sliced into the circle. I shook my hand to wave the invisible carver away form me, but the markings still dug into my flesh. The torrent grew closer. The ground shook with massive tremors and I had to brace my self a couple of times as they knocked me to my knees. I turned away from the on coming noise towards the mountain. I do not know where I was going or what I would do, but I had to get away.

I ran.

As I reached the pines at the edge of the meadow I heard the trees opposite of me break and fall.

I turned. I knew It was a mistake, but my mind wanted to know.

It looked like a large slab of black obsidian. Standing just below the top of the trees it damped all light around it. Holding it up were many large arms extending from the bottom. Hands grasped the land and it wavered a bit in its idle stance. Rectangular in nature, it wiggled slightly as it bobbed on the hands, as it was a mixture of organic and stone.

Visible ripples in the air could be seen coming from it. They grew faster and faster then a piercing scream came from forth. I covered my ears, but it penetrated straight to my bones. The thing wailed, but it soon came to a guttering growl. I limped into the tree line, but the scream emitted an emotion of such pain and suffering that I started sobbing. The sound rang something deep within. A family member or someone close to me calling out in their last agonizing breath for something. Redemption, revenge, mercy?

Choking on my own tears I limped forward.

I only had one option which was to keep moving towards the mountain. The wailing stopped, but the sound of hands clawing and grasping at the earth replaced it.

It was coming.

I brushed past the pines with short branches and brush ripping my body apart. I heard it break the first pines on my side of the meadow. Trees bent and broke as the massive slab chased. It was silent besides the movement, no growling, no yelling or crying, the slab moved relentlessly through the pines after me. The tree line broke and large chasm opened forth in front. I barely had time to stop before plunging into the darkness. My heart beat filled my head as my lungs started to try and regain their capacity. My bodies adrenaline slipped for a moment and all the damage I had accumulated from the forest dulled my thoughts. I looked back and forth. There was no bridge, no rope, nothing. The noise was getting louder. I had no idea how fast it could be. I looked towards the mountain and then peered down the chasm.

I had to get across.

I must get across.

A little ways down, there looked to be some jutting rock that I might be able to climb down on. I took my chance and rushed over. Carefully I slid my foot down onto the rock and slithered against the wall. My hands were slick and I could not look past the first step. My foot slid across the rock looking for another step, but it found none. I strained more and more. My mind now focused on survival.

Then my left hand slipped. My feet frantically searched. My right hand struggled, strained and finally gave way. My hands gave, but hands of a different kind grabbed my wrist.

They were black and cold. Their grip was like iron being wrapped around my wrist.

It yanked me up.

I screamed. I screamed a scream that I had heard before.

Mercy.

I began this story with the main character being in a peaceful tranquil place. I meant to make this whole piece about gaining clarity, seeing everything all at once and being in tune with the universe. Well, then this monster showed up somehow when I was writing. It seemed that things were not right in the beginning or this peaceful meadow was not so peaceful after all.

I enjoy the chase or the hunt. When the monster is something that is so unknown I think it makes it more intense. What will happen if you are caught?

Geometric monsters are a lot of fun. Sorta of like an abstract object that in reality should not be dangerous is not chasing you and trying to devour you. Watch those triangles ……

A light hung from the ceiling casting a faint yellow among the table. Sam rubbed his chin and took to typing on his electric auto cast type writer. His pace silently roared as his eyes narrowed in focus. Then as soon as he picked up the pace, he slowed, slower and then stopped all together.

He rubbed his chin again and looked up from the holo screen.

His companions sharing the diner were among the following. A space witch who sat in booth three. Her hair swirling black and green, which matched her skin. She was a bit chubby with a pair of big black lips and pure white eyes. She had been sipping on a chocolate molten malt for about an hour. Her head would rest upon her arms as she glanced out the large diner windows.

Beyond her in booth two were a couple. Human it looked like. Decked out in the latest cybernetics, but well dressed in current trend of something from the earths 1960’s. The man who’s skin was the color of rich sand wore a tie, white shirt and black slacks. The women with a tint of purple complexion wore a red sun dress that cut off just above her ankles, which red flats sat on. He had seen them arrive about twenty minutes ago. Each ate a hearty meal, burgers, fries, a wrap or two. He could hear their laughter from time to time.

And the last companion sat at the bar. An android of blue steel. It wore a long brown trench coat and atop of it’s head a matching fedora. Looked like a new model, fresh off the line. Every five minutes it would take a sip of a model O. A tune up drink that was all the rage among the androids. Trends for everyone came and went.

The waitress broke his study.

“Another cup of coffee?” she asked. He looked down, he did not even notice he had finished it among his pondering.

“Why not, thank you” he shrugged and his hands went back to fluttering on the keyboard. What would happen if all these different aliens and machines started to go at it? If once there was a galactic war. Everyone was out for themselves. The machines thought they were the chosen species. Then the gala-syms came out of their terrible dark corner of the universe to also lay stake. In the months following civilizations, whole species explored their military might against each other laying waste to many planets, even galaxies. Suns were destroyed, moons crashed into neighboring planets, Solar storms produced to wipe untold amounts of species from sectors of time and space.

The man kept slamming upon his auto cast. His eyes would flick back and forth from each booth exploring what they would do in this war of his. What would their planets fight with, how would they fight? Could they even stand a chance against the tyranny of others. The battles and skirmishes played out in his mind and he shook his head at the fallen heroes.

The door opened to the diner and a familiar ding rang to him, his eyes instantly shot up to see what new guest had arrived.

Damn.

A man in a gray well pressed suit, fedora on his head and wearing the most stylish glasses one could imagine clip clopped in. He straighted his tie as he looked around at each booth till their eyes met.

Double damn.

“Sam, I thought I would never find you. Looked at all your other regular spots” the man laughed as he approached. He took off his hat and hung it on the hook at the end of the booth then slinked out of his jacket. “How is the manuscript coming?” he said as he sat and pull up the menu on the table.

Sam, the man at the auto-cast stared blankly with his lips pursed. “I was trying to gain some space away from you Jon, but alas here you are, stalking me like always”

“Two weeks over due my friend, tik-tok” Jon pointed to his watch which lit up. “I bought you another month, but let’s face it” The waitress appeared “Coffee, and I will be ready to order in a minute” she left. He continued “But we both know, you need a bit of encouragement to finish up, a bit of a thrill”

“I needed a new location”

“Perfect place” Jon threw up his arms and glanced around “You know how I knew you would be here?”

“No, enlighten me”

Jon leaned forward “Look at his place, it is vintage Sam. Old odd tele-Jukebox over their in the corner, retro seating, food , and a incredible diverse set of customers. And” he turned quickly and looked towards the counter where the waitress was and turned back throwing a thumb back at her “I mean, come on, gorgeous”

Sam rubbed his chin giving a shake of his head. “It’s almost done, I am just filling out some of the middle and then it can be submitted for the final editing, happy?”

The waitress returned with Jon’s coffee “What may I get you”

“I would like a French toast, with a side of toast and sausage links, and just bring some more coffee when you return. We have some work to do”

Jon started to roll up his sleeves and pulled out his own auto cast from his jacket. Sam grit his teeth, but he knew that they would finish and it would be a better day and one step closer to the final publication, but he could not help but feel the anger rise. What he thought and, what he always thought popped into his head.

“Scrambled eggs, please” he frowned peering at Sam,resting in the thought, but like always gave a chuckle. And he let it pass. The typing resumed.

I have seen some pictures of old retro diners in space and I thought that they would always be cool places to hang out. The view from them would be spectacular and you would end up seeing a bunch of different species and aliens in and out. Sam is the sorta of cliché writer, being late on his deadline and thinking un-pleasant thoughts about his editor Jon. He knows that they always work it out, but there is always that ting of anger when bring pursued by the deadline.

They were deep blue, wide open staring into the space. Eyelashes brushed to perfection, eye shadow expertly applied. Those glass eyes looked, but did not see. They would never take in the light again.

“I don’t know if I can stand it. Why is her mouth so wide? What did the coroner say cause of death was?”

Two men stood over the body which was strapped into a chair by the wrist and feet. Her clothes were untouched besides a days grime and there was no sign of bruising or blood any where on her. Which looking around, it might be the only place there was no blood.

“Heart attack, he said.” Tom said.

“Heart attack he said” James repeated walking around her once and then fixed his eyes on her head. “Scared to death? You ever see anything like this before?”

Tom shook his head, his eyes stuck on her jaw which looked as it was barely hanging on.

The body had not been moved yet or, at least it could not be moved yet. Each time anyone touched her they would feel faint, weak in the knees, short of breath. Make anything up, they felt it. The body stayed were it sat. Eyes wide with terror.

“I gotta get out of here. Let’s find the thing that did this” Tom said moving back towards the stairs.

The entrance to the room was behind a hidden panel in the wall. It led down a small set of concrete stairs and into a room of white tiled walls and concrete floor with a drain in the middle. A chair, which the body sat in, was at one end of the room and a couple of chairs were lined against the other wall. All the chairs looked like they should be in a mental hospital. One of the chairs against the wall had its restraints ripped apart. Upon the floor when the police arrived, off an anonymous tip, blood stained the floor and pieces of someone were strewn across the walls and ceiling. The poor bastard that stepped down slipped and took a bath. The rest of the cities police were brought in and then the FBI and finally Tom and James.

When the body could not be moved by the FBI they called in the paranormal unit. James who looked straight out of Miami vice. Tall and muscular, a permanent mustache, with mavericks covering his eyes and always chewing something. He supposedly was attacked by a witch and some her ghosts at the age of fifteen. He fended them off with just a can of salt and a bat. Tom, looked like belong behind a fancy bar in New York. His fashion was always high class with a expensive suits, cuffs, black hair tastefully swept to the side. His olive skin and orangish brown eyes seemed to glow among a well kept clean shaven face. His first house was haunted. Which he sold. His second house was also haunted, which he tried to sell. Then his apartment that he rented while he sold his haunted house was also haunted. So he learned how to exorcise ghosts and here he was. Regretting that he sold his first house, which was the one he really wanted.

Both of them were hired at one time to help an old grandmother put her husband to rest and through chants, wine, salt and trying not to get possessed or crossing the barrier themselves they became friends. Turned out the grandmother was once an FBI agent and recommended them for special cases. Viola, you have the paranormal unit.

Tom took one last look into the blue eyes of the dead girl in the chair. They usually dealt with small crimes, bodies were rare, and scared to death bodies were something else. This felt different. Evil in a way that he had not felt before. They had seen a lot of violence through flashbacks and things from ghosts, but nothing of this caliber.

He turned and walked up the concrete stairs, bloody footprint joining the others from the blood that could not be wiped clean.

James was standing in the kitchen eating a muffin as James came up the stairs. The brownstone which the room was hidden in was furnished in riches and tastefully decorated. The kitchens was marble counter tops, with black embossed cabinets. A large island sat in the middle with a old time looking light hanging above it. Agents and police officers darted around the whole place, dusting, opening drawers and looking for more clues.

James turned to Tom, with muffin crumbs hanging on to his mustache and said “Hey they found out who the parts belonged to”

“Parts?”

“The body parts, well more like pieces” James laughed and Tom groaned in response. “The owner of the house, Tyler Indel. Rich guy, rose to the top of this investment firm, big donor and philanthropist, the works.”

“This is his place, so that means that secret murder basement is his”

“Yup” James took a large bite of of the muffin “absolute psychopath, they found a box buried in one of the plants with a bunch of his victims stuff, seven in total”

“The living are pretty brutal” Tom said under his breathe while rubbing his eyes “well, if Tyler was the psycho, who killed him? Or more like blended him?”

James rose his eye brows and gave a shrug then took a large gulp of coffee from a fancy looking mug “I tell ya what, Tyler had some good coffee, brewed a carafe if you want some” he pointed over his shoulder “You know what we are dealing with” said in a serious tone and looked straight into James eyes.

Tom nodded not wanting to confirm his suspicions, what clawed at the back of his mind and haunted his dreams. He had only seen one once, and that was enough. A demon. There were many types, but he had only seen one and it was not even through his own eyes, but a ghosts. What he saw stroked a cosmic fear in him, one that went beyond comprehension. When he saw the eyes on the girl, he knew that those would be his eyes if he saw what she laid her last gaze on. Absolute madness and terror.

Tom and James had known each other for a while and had shared intimate details of their lives together whether they wanted to or not. There was always one memory, one line in James’s consciousness that Tom could never get near or see into. Like a black hole that each time he would get close he would be flung at light speed away from it. Now looking at Jame’s carefree attitude he wondered again about that abyss inside him. Maybe he had tangled with demons before and that was the price you paid. Your sanity.

The world went black as the blow to the back of his head connected. He stumbled into a wall and next thing he knew he awoke in a bright lit room. It was small with a single entrance of concrete stairs leading up somewhere. His wrists were bound along with his ankles in a chair. His eyes rolled and he saw three more chairs to his right and a one single infront of a blank wall. I women sat looking defeated and beyond her energy. He tried to scream, but a gag prevented him. He sort of doubted that anyone could hear him anyway.

He was trapped in a horror movie, but this wasn’t on the big screen. This was in ultra high definition. Reality, baby. The one and only. One life and it was going to end like this. The door up the steps opened and a man walked down. He was dressed well, black slacks, a vest, his dirty blonde hair brushed. His face was handsome, and almost symmetrical. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and was fixating tight black gloves onto his long fingers. As he walked he ignored him and went straight to the girl in the chair.

She whimpered as he approached and he clutched her chin in his hands. He examined her pulling her chin back and forth, then clutched his hand to her hair and gave a gentle tug to move her head back and looked straight into her eyes. He then stepped back and acknowledged the new guest.

“Wrong place, wrong time, buddy” the man said whistling a small tune to himself. “Hey” he called over to the women “What should I do to this guy? I want an audience for a time. Slice him up bit by bit? Maybe some sensory deprecation, remove the eyes? The nose maybe? Why not everything, flay the senses.” The women cried out and the man in the chair screamed into his gag. The room was a mixture of hysteria.

Cries, screams, and laughter.

The man in the vest held out his hand “Tyler, is what they call me in these parts” he then withdrew it and started leafing through the tied up mans wallet until it came to his drivers license “Ally? Seriously? What ever modern times. Well, Ally, your about to end up on the back of a milk carton and recycled into the greater world. No hard feelings, but I do hope you suffer tremendously” Tyler gave a look, one of a deranged animal, his eyes seemed to salivate with his mouth as he looked Ally up and down in the chair. All the pain and brutality running through his head, building up and just waiting to flow through his fingers onto flesh.

“Let” Tyler brought out a table “us” he rolled out a set of sharp and dangerous objects “begin”

Ally’s eyes widened and his muted screams lasted hours.

I have been thinking of a concept about a killer of killers. We will get that soon, but in the meantime I introduce or FBI duo Tom and James. I modeled them after the series and aloof crime solving duo from novels and movies. One is a bit over serious, Tom and the other is a bit loose with the rules, drum beating to a different tune, which would be James.

James is modeled after detectives Wainwright in Hot Fuzz.

This is duo story taking place from two different perspectives. It will merge at some point when all our cast comes together.
It is also not so standalone as my other works. Why could that be?

Till next time

Cheers

“Here, take this charm. It will protect you from the vampires”

“I don’t believe in vampires”

“Neither do I, but better be safe then sorry. That will be ten dollars”

Sarah walked out of the small shop holding a large pendent charm looking thing that seemed have been transported a million miles from the old country to the quit sleepy town of upstate New York. The ‘charm’ as the man had said was large, silver and black with a red crystal in the shape of a heart in the middle. Black thin chain hooked through the top of the crystal and came to a magnetic clasp. Twenty first century work at its best. She dangled it in the sunlight. The beams flowed through the crystal and poured out over the side walk and onto the walls. At least it had that going for it.

Sarah undid the magnetic clasp and sealed it around her neck. The pendent hung just right above her heart and hummed along with each beat. It must be one of those spiritual magnetize type deals. Stones and all their magic in the old days. Metal in her body reacting to the metal and stone. She pulled her blond hair through the chain and let it fall beyond it.

As she walked down the street she noticed more eyes on her then normal. She peaked left and right. Across the street at the Tom’s hardware store a few folks stood with steely gazes at her and then next to them at the donut shop a young couple talked and peered at her then exchanged a few comments and returned their gaze to her. Her focus was split and she turn the corner, her eyes stuck on the corner where the Maremets furrowed their brow at her in almost a suspicious fashion. Her body collided with some one and as she almost stumbled backwards a strong arm caught her.

“whoa there, a little distracted today” A tall man with floppy brown hair held her for a moment then released and pulled back.

Jeremy Simmons. Ace of the soccer team, number one on everyone’s crush list and every moms measuring stick for their daughters boyfriends.

As Sarah composed her self Jeremy winced and stepped back rapidly.

“oh my god, sorry, this day has been super weird. You know, like Saturdays” she stumbled through her words, face beet red from walking into him.

“Thats a rad necklace, where did you get it “ Jeremy said in a gravelly voice. As if he was in pain.

Sarah pulled the necklace up to look at it from her chest. Jeremy gave a shuddered breath “Oh, this thing. I picked it up at the local thrift shop. Old man Harker said some weird stuff about it and vampires, what a total weirdo”

There was an awkward silence between them as Jeremy held the bridge of his nose as if a migraine had overcome him.

“Very strange. Look, I got to go, see you later” Jeremy said and pushed past her and around the corner.

Sarah swore at her self for her blown encounter. When would be the next time he would even udder anything in her direction. She glimpsed at her new necklace. Maybe if she kept it on, he would talk to her more. A good luck charm? Anything was worth a try.

She made her way from the downtown back into her neighborhood of Westenra falls. A old neighborhood of that streets that bended up hills of massive trees. Old Victorian houses peaked out from the shaded lots.

Her house sat on one of these rolling hills. Large oak trees blocked her house from the street, but she could see the dark brick and white wood peeking out and welcoming her home.

“Hey, I’m home” Sarah called.

Her mom rang back a welcome home to her from the kitchen and her dad gave a hey from the upstairs office. She moved to the kitchen to find her mom preparing a lasagna.

“How’s your day been sweetly” her mom said pulling out the lasagna from the oven.

“Well, you wouldn’t believe who I ran into, like literally ran into- “

A loud crash of ceramics, cheese and noodles impacted the floor. Her mom stood with two hot gloved hands staring at her like the rest of town had this morning.

“Honey, that necklace, where did you get it” her mom asked with out taking her eyes off it.

Sarah once again pulled the necklace off and looked at it and then at her mom. “Old man Harker. At the thrift shop down town. You know the new one that opened last year. What is so impressive about this-“

“Take it off” her mom demanded

“What? Why?”

“Take it off, right now” she shrieked.

Her dad roped around the corner and into the kitchen to see what the commotion was.

“Whoa whoa what is going o- what the hell is that” He dad said stopping mid stride as he caught a glimpse of the red crystal. “Yo-you have to take that off, right now, do what your mother says”

A knock came at the door.

“I’ll get it” Sarah slunk around her parents and towards the front door. They shadowed her.

She opened the door and there was old man Harker. His grey hair neatly brushed back and dressed in his Victorian suit. His small glasses lay at the end of his long nose.

“Sarah” he nodded at her then peered behind at the two looming shadows “I think you might want to come with me” He grasped her arm and pulled her past him. Sarah could hear her parent scream at her as Mr.Harker pulled out something from his bag and shouted back at them. The door closed and Mr.Harker pulled Sarah away from her house.

“What are you doing!” She yelled at him as they moved into the street. She could see people behind trees, cars, at the edge of houses. All around people half exposed casted a glare at her.

“Your adopted, no?” He moved her to the passenger side of his old Lincoln that was down the street from her place.

“Yes, not getting in. What is your problem, ever since you sold me this stupid necklace the whole town is going crazy”

Sarah could feel the shadows and glares getting closer.

Mr. Harker opened the door then stopped to stare at her from over the roof of his car. “How many visitors do you get in your town? The diet is mainly meat and all drinks are the color red. Your school mascot is a bat.” he rolled his hand “shall I go on?”

Sarah crossed her arms “You may”

Mr.Harker scowled “Your parents go out in the middle of the night, every night. Their bed is never used. You never travel outside of town”

“I mean, yeah, soon when I am old enough I will get out to see some stuff, but this place is pretty solid so far”

“Jeremy can kick a soccer ball from one side of the field and into the net, six fields away”

“Well, I mean he is pretty great”

“The Harvest blood festival?” Mr.Harker rose his eyebrows and leaned towards her as much as he could.

“Tomato juice?” Sarah gave a weak smile and shrugged “What are you saying, the whole town are a bunch of Vampires?”

“Yes!” Mr.Harker threw up his arms.

“Then how are they out during the daytime?”

“Vampire sunscreen” he said and slid into the driver seat of his car.

Sarah followed into the passenger seat “Give me a break, are you serious?” he tossed a bottle into her lap.

It was a polished amber color and had a Dracula figure under a umbrella on the beach. Sunglasses, hair slicked back, complete with a black swimsuit. In one hand was glass of red juice. The tag line “Hunt in the sun” lay beneath the sand.

“I tracked the production here to his town. I don’t know how they did it, but I have never been chased by vampires during the daytime in such fashion” Mr.Harker started his car and put the pedal to the floor.

The shadows all revealed themselves and they sprang from their hidden groves at the car. Her neighbors, friends and even her parents bore fangs and their mouths hung just a bit wider the usual. Their fingers long with talons for nails.

The car hit a few as they flew up and down the hills “They aren’t full power though during the daytime, the sunscreen allows them to walk among the light, but it still weakens them by a lot.” Sarah held on to the dash as the Lincoln went air born and sped towards the entrance of the neighborhood.

“How did you even live long enough in the town the then?” Sarah screamed over the tires ripping along the street. Mr.Harker pulled something out from his button shirt. A pendent that looked like the one he had sold her this morning.

“Good for repelling vampires and this one, I can disguise my self. I look and smell like someone else.

“What about me? Am I a vampire?”

Mr.Harker stashed his necklace back into his shirt and they pulled up in front of his store. “No, you not a vampire, but I have no idea why your hear, or they adopted you. I have been trying to figure that out as well. Wait here, Lock the doors”

“Like that is going to do anything” she locked them anyway. Mr.Harker disappeared into his shop and then reemerged with a two large suit cases which he stashed into the back of car. She unlocked the car and he got back in.

The street in front of them were filling with bodies that loomed and slinked towards them.

“Sorry Sarah, you wont be coming back here anytime soon. Say goodbye”

Sarah looked out at the Main Street then at the mob of fanged creatures coming towards her. She had a feeling that she would indeed be back sooner then Mr.Harker thought. She checked her self in the side mirror. Her reflection barely visible.

I recently saw Renfield with Nicholas Cage and Nicholas Hoult. It was a good horror comedy and made me think about if a person lived in a town full of vampires, but never realized it because it was so normal to them. This took a less serious tone to it as the opening is a random event it seems till the charm starts making everyone go crazy. Harker is a refrensce to Jonathan Harker from Dracula, Westenra is also the young lady that falls under Dracula in London from the novel. Maybe in the future we will see what Sarah might be and if Harker can figure out the mystery.

I pulled up to the house mid afternoon. The autumn sun was high in the sky just at its tip. It shined warmth against the cool breeze. I stepped out of the car and breathed in the crisp air as I looked upon the old Victorian manor. It stood with all its windows reflecting the sun at me, welcoming me once again to a familiar place that I had greeted many times in my life. I knew every bend and point of the roof, the corners of wood. All the imperfections, ones that nature caused and some that I might have caused as a kid.

I approached and unlocked the heavy front door. It swung open with a creak and revealed the dim inside. I flipped on the lights and the warmth poured back over the interior. The main entrance opened up to the living room which had large bay windows out looking the forested backyard. To the right through a large open space was the kitchen that was fashioned in a grayish theme with black trim. Marble of gold and black flashed in the sun light from the windows. To the left of the living room was a set of stairs that went down to the lower level and past that the bedrooms of the house. Three in all. My parents, mine and then my two sisters.

Or at least they used to be.

I moved through the house and observed the character that still remained. The family pictures, the little trinkets that were perfectly placed on each shelf, the fake and real plants that brought a bit of nature and balance to the rooms. Each room cast more memories in my direction. Like a whole lifetime playing out before my eyes. The good and the bad. This house contained them all with in its walls. I sat down on the couch in the living room which faced the front door. The house was still. The wind brought a few creaks and the house stirred a bit, but it was different.

I brought my hands to my face and tears streamed from my eyes. Emotions from a lifetime bubbled up from an abyss. The house that held us was no longer the same. The memories were not scarred into the wood structure, the pain and happiness not mixed with the foundation, the mirrors that watched and held out glances never captured those reflections. The house,in fact, was just a house. While it held us, it seemed full of life. Now, it was just a building. Music no longer ran through its hallways giving movement and energy. A pot or a stove no longer threw off heat and breathed life into the heart. Foot steps and laughter no longer rang high into the ceiling and bounced off for everyone to hear, even faintly. No longer was it home.

The house that I had lived in, that I dreamed of living in again, no longer held what I believed.

The house was not what my spirit cried for.

It was the people, who made it a home.

When ever I have been in my house with no one home or a place that is familiar I notice that it takes a different tone. It is all the little things that go on with a family that really bring something to life. Objects, such as a house or and item are really important, not because of the thing, but because of the memories and people associated with them. A house doesn’t seem the same with out the people inside it.

What is the fun of being in a castle, if your alone.

“I would like to see what the city has to offer” the man smiled at him. A large slit between two thin lips.

Taylor looked at his watch and then at the man “You are okay with the rates we spoke about over the phone still?” The smiling man nodded violently and stuck out his hand. Taylor took it and they shook.

They both stepped out of the small room and down a hallway that breached into bright light. Buildings scattered the horizon in all directions and the symphony of the city filled the air. Mariten Metropolis. A city standing bright and tall as an example of what humans were capable of. A mixture of science, industry, art and culture. The pinnacle of the heights. Ever changing, ever evolving, and ever attracting tourists from the whole world. Taylor looked at his new found employer. A average looking man. Short knappy brown hair, roundish face and smaller then average nose. He wore small round glasses that made him look like an old book keeper. He stood admiring the sites and sounds. Small airplanes zooming in and out between buildings, light rails slinking along their snake paths just below them. Lights pervading each and every single surface that they could. They lit up with advertising, videos and public announcements. The man’s name was Sigil. A strange name, but those that came from the west usually had something interesting about them. He had called earlier looking for a guide around the city. In particular the Arts and Theater district. He said he had gone to school for dancing and performing arts of the stage. Taylor couldn’t believe that looking at him, but maybe it was when he was younger.

“Sigil, this way, we will take the light rail to the theater district.” Taylor said motioning to the station. Sigils head snapped from what he was occupied with and stared for a moment in the direction and that smile slid onto his face as he moved.

The ride was short, ten minutes by light rail took you across half the city. Taylor sat in a lux seat next to Sigil. At first Taylor tried to ask a few questions and dig a bit deeper into Sigil as they sat down, but the only answers he got were quick un-insightful reflections then followed by awkward silence. He decided to sit back for a bit. He peered out the window looking at the city pass by. He enjoyed the light rail. Somedays he would just sit and ride it around the city. It went from one side of the city then up a level and back and continued all the way up and then skipped around to the bottom again. The train entered a tunnel. The cabin outside was plunged into darkness, but the rail lights inside the cabin illuminated the windows. His faces reflection lazily stared back at him. He noticed Sigil, then focused on him.

Sigils face stretched into that thin smile with eyes gleaming straight into his. He could see them clearly as if he was staring right at him. The reflection in the window was precise. The thin smile cracked just a bit to show teeth. The eyes seemed like infinite black voids. As if marbles had taken their place. The glassy surface reflecting all this nightmares back at him.

The train exited the tunnel and Taylors head swiveled to look at Sigil. The man looked unbothered and was peering the other way. Then he turned to meet Taylors gaze

“Are we almost there?” Sigil asked.

Taylor realized he was starting at the mans eyes. They did not seem to inspire the same horror as they had a second ago.

He snapped out of it “Yeah, next stop is ours”

“Brilliant” Sigil said.

Out of all the districts the Theater and Arts never appealed to Taylor. He appreciated it, but there were to many statues of half naked people holding buildings up to his liking. The people there also got on his nerves. It was like walking into a place where everyone was trying to sell you on their flavor of life with some interpretative muse. He was more akin to the Science and Industry. Labor and progress forward was his thing. The station entered the main square which held large banners made out of gold that welcomed all to the district. Sigil strode into the middle of the square and stood with this hands in his pockets. His head clicked as if it was clockwork side to side. Taylor came up behind him and started to explain all the buildings and streets to him.

“A play, Taylor.” Sigil interrupted “I mean, I would like to see a play if we could. Back where I come from we had the most wondrous plays. I would like to experience one from the top of the world. Money, of course, is no worry” Sigils was face was a mix of seriousness and enthusiasm. As if seeing a play was the most important act on the planet.

“Of course, there are plays starting all the time here, any subject or particular one?”

“Pick which one you would like to see. I am curious” Sigil said.

Taylor sighed. Damn he would have to sit through something. He looked up at a board which listed a continues list of the plays starting and ongoing at the moment. He ran his eyes down the list.

“Atlas and the Narrow Sea. Monsters, damsels in distress, some life lessons and who know what else. Maybe some backstabbing betrayal, how about it?”

“Sounds interesting” Sigil said “Very interesting, lead the way Taylor.”

A man fell off a make shift cliff face, plunging into a pool of water below. A sharp scream from a women crying and stretching an arm to the fallen man below. Then from the right side of the stage a monster with many black shiny eyes and many claws menacingly approaches the women on the cliff face.

Taylor gripped his seat. The play had engrossed him way more then he thought it would. The hero had been tossed off a cliff and now the the leading lady sat helpless against a giant monster.

The lights went dark and the stage could be heard changing scenes. Taylor leaned back in his chair and let out the breath that was caught in his chest. The lights dipped low and flashed leaving everyone in total darkness. Only small lights running up the side of the stage shown.

But it was enough. Two black marbles reflected that light. It was so subtle that Taylor thought it was his eyes playing a trick on him, but when he closed his eyes and reopened, they remained. A small fraction of light bounced off those eyes, no doubt a smile resting just below them. This time they felt predatory, sizing him up, drawing him in. Applauding filled the theater and the curtains started to pull up. The head which held the eyes shifted to the left in another clockwork tick and returned forward. A roar came from the monster on stage and Taylor jumped in his seat.

The last act of the play played out, but Taylor could only stare forward and away from Sigil. Even if Sigil was now engrossed in the play, his eyes were burned in his mind. They stared with out staring. Before he knew the audience was standing and clapping as the actors took a bow. Sigil stood clapping very enthusiastically, hollering at the actors. Sweat dripped down his face and it looked as if it took all his energy to produce the praise he gave.

“What a fantastic play, Taylor, your tastes are most excellent” Sigil said as they exited the theater and returned to the main square. “I thought that the ending was especially fantastic, the monster being slaying by the betrayed brother. What a scene”

“Yeah” Taylor said as they approached the light rail station. He stopped to check the train times and his watch. Sigil had paid for his time, but it was almost over. “So we have a half hour left, anything else you would like see?”

Sigil moved close behind Taylor. His movements clunky and out of sync with the way his head clicked side to side. “This has been quite enough Taylor. You will find the money in your account, I had the most wonderful day. The most wonderful time with you. I hope that we can see each other again, to experience more wonderful things” Sigil said getting next to Taylor. His body faced front, but his head almost owl like turned to stare at Taylor.

Taylor could see Sigil in the corner of his vision, yet he dared not turn to meet him. The feeling from the theater was returning. He pulled out his phone and scrolled a bit and said “Well, I will see you off here, enjoy your stay” Sigil bowed, then moved out of his peripheral and entered the next light rail. As the doors closed Taylor blew out a large breathe.

“I have to start vetting some of these people” he waved at the train as it left the station.

I started reading this book by Ryu Murakami called In the Miso Soup. It is about an American, Frank, being shown around Tokyo’s nightlife by a tour guide named Kenji. Frank, though, is not as he seems. The idea of encountering someone that is so different, strange and with a side that peeks out here and there interested me. Like when a person is unhinged, but hides it so well, that you only catch a glimpse of it. Everyone might have this side, but not all act on it. Is a person just eccentric? Or are they truly mad?

How can one be sure, until it is to late?

In the desert laid a house built of concrete and dust. It rose high in to the cloudless sky, impervious to the elements, watching, waiting for some event to challenge it. With slick gray walls that outstretched and arched like waves out towards the plains. It had a large arched gate, the hinges melted into it’s structure and when opened glided smoothly as if lubricated with eternity. When the gates were closed there was no seam, no opening. Just a smooth surface between an arch. Inside the concrete waves was a building that twisted and turned into brutalist nature. It was harsh to the eyes, but had seductive curves that pulled the body. The building crept into the sky and past the waves, so high that one that looked could not see the top. They could only see the few concrete decks that wrapped around the twisting tower.

The beginning of the this structure was never known. When the first person from the Meltin empire stumbled upon it, they thought it was an illusion among the cracked earth. As they approached the tower skewered the sky and they looked for signs of life around and beyond the beaches.

They found nothing.

The empire commissioned excavation and digging around the area to find any civilization that might of built the structure, but like signs of life. They found nothing among the dirt.

Doors would not open to anyone that attempted to open them. A few tried mounting ladders to crest the concrete waves, but when they peered over all they saw was inky blackness where there should of been ground. It swallowed all the light from their eyes and they retreated down their ladders with pupils as wide as their eyes. The empire spied and attempted to break the building, but it stood. Watching unrelenting to their sessions of destruction and violation. So what could be done? They back off and observed from afar. A Small camp was established to watch for any signs of movement, any treacherous acts. And they waited.

the brutal gray tower loomed, rested, breathed and took in its watchers, but never revealed anything.

She emerged from the smooth gates as they parted. Even though it was sandy, she wore heels. Her long slender legs glided from a pure dark dress and shawl. The back seemed to be pulling all the darkness from that which was observed years before. As she glided out, behind her the darkness followed. A thin hood covered her head and the top part of her face. Her eyes remained hidden, but her lips shone. Deep black, like her cape, absorbed all light and formed into a seductive grin. Her skin was like a matte glass, perfect, smooth, and a dark blue. Ribbons of dark velvet hair swayed down her chest and to her hips. As she entered into the large valley, the door pulled shut behind her,the floor inside could be seen. No darkness remained there. Among the cracked and dusty sand her darkness created a contrast of night and day.

She glided up the side of the sands to the outpost that watched the structure. The soldiers and the one scribe sat captivated by the unimaginable beauty.

She stood proud and confident before the small post. Her hand raised and with a flick of her wrist all the darkness that dragged behind her poured forth and drowned them. The men witnessed the dark lips part into a roar of laughter.

The darkness swelled and crashed like waves around the camp. Inky celestial blackness poured over the men and they screamed and clawed. Some drew their swords and swung, but like a heavy syrup the darkness smashed them under it’s weight.

With a slow pull the darkness withdrew from the camp. It melted and oozed around the small buildings and objects, pulling at each surface as it retracted to the women. A scribe stood alone in front of her, revealed from the darkness that now rippled behind her. His hands furious transcribed, but his eyes which stared straight at her, were pure black. Blinded, light pulled from his very corneas. She leaned forward to the scribes ears, his pencil still scrawling among the paper.

“Witness” she whispered into this ear.

In an instant her and the darkness slid back into the structure. As the last drop of darkness moved inside, the doors closed once again forming a solid wall.

The camp was abandoned and reclaimed by the sand. The scribe was retrieved and the empire of Meltin declared the structure possessed and put restrictions around it and the surrounding land. Travelers might come across it or see it in the distance, but it is advised to avoid at all costs. A monolith among the sand. Something unknown completely. Standing, observing, built for some purpose,but only realized in certain moments.

The house in the sand, holding darkness, pierces the sky and waits.

I recently went to Mexico for a wedding. We were in a bit of a remote place and what struck me was the buildings and their sporadic nature among the dry earth. They were made out of concrete or adobe and had very blocky designs. I imagined something like these buildings standing alone in the desert. Something mysterious with no current owner or builder. No one knows where it came from or what it is for. It would reflect the barren land which it stood on. A predator of time.

The lady in the story was something that I came up with for the contrast. I sorta lost my way in the middle of this and didnt know how to finish it. It turned out alright.

She pulled her coat up and over her neck to shield from the breeze coming from the fresh autumn air. The airship that was preparing to lift off, with it’s massive propellers, didn’t help either. She stood on top of a building surrounded by even larger, taller buildings of glass and concrete. The platform at the top of the Thompson building was specifically built for the Saint Sherrie to land and take off. A small cocktail lounge and diner sat at one end of the platform, while the occupants exited and entered the massive flat space where the ship would land gently.

The Saint Sherrie was a mid size airship. A large bronze blimp covered in massive steel wires and covers to protect it from any unknown objects in the air, it held a two story compartment on it’s belly. The compartment stretched all the way from where the blimp curved up to a point and to the back where it curved into the massive propellers. Large windows spanned across both sides and a viewing deck on the back was in open air with mesh covering so that no one had any unfortunate accidents.

The passengers lined up to start boarding. Grabbing a burgundy brief case she joined in and made her way to the long ramp that let into the passenger cabin.

“ID and ticket please” A stewardess asked. Her uniform was dark purple, tight to the figure, but the fabric was heavy and luxuries. A mini version of the Saint Sherrie adorned in gold sat on her left breast. Upon her gold hair, which was pulled up, was a dark purple pointed flight hat that had gold rims.

She flashed her ID and then produced her long ticket.

“Pleasure to have you flying with us Amelia Sterling” the stewardess smiled and motioned her towards the ramp.

Amelia stepped forward and flashed a smile before her heeled feet ascended towards the airship.

The cabin was first class, what wasn’t in Ilum Metropolis. Gold and white, mixed with blacks accented everything. Large statues of men and women sculpted in perfect form melted out of the marble that ran up columns between the windows. The seats, which were a combination of single seats and couches, where all plush leather that had been treated to never fade or break down. They were an off white, which was pleasant to the eye and lit up in the golden sun. The windows, were crystal clear, anti smudge and would project a small amount of heat to keep the cabin warm when they reached the higher altitudes. She could see small vents above each window which were used to keep the cabin pressure stable and comfortable for the guests. Near the front of the cabin was a massive bar that rose up and through the floor to the next level. It held all the liquor and cigarettes one could dream of. There were a few stools that accompanied it. Behind it was a spiral staircase that led to the upper floor of the cabin, which was a copy of the bottom floor. In the back there was a single door to a view area that was open air. The door, once the airship got to a certain height, would lock for passenger safety.

Amelia moved towards the stairs and wrapped up them to the second floor were she took a seat on one of the couches near the middle of the floor.It sat on a step up from the seating in front of the window so that all seats had a clear view. A small table ran either in front of the coaches or was built into the arm rest of the single seats. The last remaining passengers made their way in and the airship awoke and lifted off into to the sky and above the sprawling metropolis.

Amelia had remained alone on the couch while the rest of the cabin had filled up. She stood up and looked around. What she sought was not up here. Maybe down below. She grabbed her case and moved to the stairs spying all the guests. Drinks were flowing already and the cheers came when they reached the sprawling white clouds. She caught a glimpse her self in one of the mirrors over the stairs. Her black pants came up to her waist and straightened all the way down to her ankles where they were folded once. A small waist belt wrapped around her just a over her hips. A white blouse billowed out of the pants from her waist and hid under the long black over coat jacket which had its collar pulled up. Upon her hands were white knitted gloves with a small gold diamonds on the dorsal. Her lips were marked in black and make up done in natural tones. Her eyes, striking, sharp, focused. Green emeralds peered from them, hunting. Blond bangs laid swept across her forehead, long pieces of blond hair framed her face and the rest was pulled into a pony tail held together with a black scrunchy that shined when light hit it. She smiled at her reflection, made a small adjustment to her hair and continued down the stairs.

When she reached the front of the bar she spotted them. Two men near the back of the cabin in a half rounded couch next to the windows. She approached keeping her eyes fixed on them, when she got their seats, she walked past, stopped and then moved to open side of the couch and sat down.

Both men immediately turned to her.

“Hey pretty lady, what can we do for you today?” the man farthest from her smiled. He was lean with a thin face. Blond hair slicked back. He wore a dark green suit that looked very expensive.

The other man elbowed him in the ribs hard.

“I didn’t think it would be a pretty lady doing the deal with us, times be changing I guess.” The man also smiled at her. His skin was a dark brown, hair shaved and close to his head. He wore a beige suit, like the other man,it was expansive as well. His eyes shone deep amber. He pulled out a red envelope that was rimmed in gold and silver and placed it on the table. He then motioned to her. Amelia heaved the brief case on top the table keeping her hand on the handle.

“All in a days work, please count the money in the envelope” She smiled.

“You got some nerve - “ The thin man started.

“Of course” The man said keeping his eyes on hers. He opened the envelope and fanned out the bills and started counting slowly. The man next to him fidgeted looking down at the money.

“Two million Julies, just as the price was agreed upon.” he stuffed the bills back into the envelope “and now, the brief case”

Amelia slid the case over still holding the handle and held out her other hand. The man placed the envelope on it and she pulled it to her and let go of the brief case. There was a visible sign of relief from the gentleman as he pulled the case in front of him. He unbuckled the clasps and opened it. There was silence between the two men as they peered inside. Slowly, the man closed the brief case and moved it off to the side.

The man in the beige suit nodded and pursed his lips “I see we made a mistake, in this brief case there should be a Fullium Transmitter. When I open this case, I do not see a Fullium Transmitter. I see a bunch of junk.”

“No, there is a Fullium Transmitter in there” Amelia leaned forward onto the table “It just needs to be put together” she flashed a grin “Terms, gentlemen, are very important”

The man laughed deeply “Lady you made the last mistake of your life, Riley, do what you do best”

The man in the green suit stood up and reached into his coat. Amelia jumped up and vaulted over into sitting area behind. A shot rang out from a pistol and hit the table besides her. The ships alarm rang and startled at the noise and change in vibe, the passengers sprang up and chaotically sprinted away from the three. Amelia peeked out where Riley was, she pulled her own pistol from her long pocket on her coat. She peered back at the viewing deck door then a quick glance at her watch.

“Come out lady, we only want to have a little chat, a one sided chat”

She shot in the direction of the two men, they both ducked and she stood up and sprinted towards the door. She took another few shots to keep them down. She reached the door and took aim for the handle. A shot rang and hit the wall next to her, she flinched a bit, but she busted the door open. Air crashed into the cabin and debris of cigarettes, napkins and discard coats swirled around on the lower level.

“Is she crazy!” she heard the man in the beige suit scream.

The viewing deck was surrounded by a mesh that was blade resistant. Normally blade resistant. Amelia pulled out a serrated dagger, its blade glowed blue and vibrated at high frequency. The mesh sliced easily. She glanced back. The two men were fighting the wind at the door to the viewing deck. Riley was trying to stead his hand against the gale.

“Pleasure doing business with you two” Amelia shouted and stepped up on the railing. Both men stared squinted eyed at her. She then fell backwards into the golden sky.

“Almost didn’t make it there” Amelia brushed through her wind blasted hair “I thought you said the rope would automatically catch when I grabbed onto it?”

A man pressed a few button a on control panel in the large cockpit. He turned and pulled his mopey brown hair back off his forehead “It was” he then rose and moved towards her “At least it always had before, on “ he coughed “lower force targets”

“mmhm” Amelia shot an annoying look towards him “One of these days, Milo, my death will be on one your gadgets hands”

Milo took off his large circular glasses, wiped them on his shirt and then pushed them back up his nose “My gadgets, keep you alive”

They both laughed and she tossed the envelope to him “The Rosset Gang isn’t going to be happy”

“When are they ever” Milo flipped through the bills “But what would they need a Fullium Transmitter for? Building an underground city?”

“Not sure, half those parts don’t work and the other half are to a discarded train. We can worry about it another day” Amelia got up and yawned stretching into the air “for now, I am going to get some rest, let me know when we get back into town”

Milo finished counting the bills and threw the envelope to the small table to his left.

“You got it. Ilum, The Golden City, coming up”

This story is inspired by the old art deco future cities example - Popular Science magazine/November, 1939. Amelia’s last name is a reference to Roger Sterling from Mad Men. The concept is supposed to a heist in the clouds. I enjoy the whole overly rich tones of Art Deco and that style. Making everything lavish, but sustainable and unfading would be the way to do it. I think for the style to work, everything needs to always be in a tip top shape. I always go back to the anime Big O as well when thinking of Art Deco and metropolis’s. That show had a great art style and architecture to it.

The man in the air ship at the end, Milo, is a reference to the character from Atlantis: The Lost Empire. Fantastic movie from an age lost.

Hope everyone had a great 2022! Let 2023 be epic!

Safe travels into the future everyone, cheers~

There was a moment lost when he looked back. The train seemed to speed along, gliding above the ground. There were no rails guiding it. As it slide past in a liquid smooth movement he reached out his arm and it grabbed him. His arm extended and his body crashed and fell into the train as if it was water and he had splashed through the material surface. He tumbled onto the hard floor of the train car. The train was no longer welcoming him among its cars, but now slapped him with reality that would soon try to tear him apart.

The imperial planes of Tyiron was a place of wishful thinking and memories of those that had been slain by it’s cruel ways. This long plateau of nothing stretched into infinity where it played cruel tricks on every living soul , human or otherwise. Everyone that ended up here, died. Worst then died, was erased from the very vibrating fabric of reality. As if all the hunted were collected and smashed into a unfathomable small vibrating ball. So condensed. So intertwined. That there ceased to be anything, but one point, a single entity. The unmade.

Who knew how the plains came to be or why they even existed. They just did. They could create anything at any time. It never made sense. Monsters, hybrids, vehicles, futuristic things, unfuturistic things, anything. All with the express purpose of torturing and killing those that they found wondering among the plains.

There was only one tree and one mountain among the plains, if you came to the ‘edge’ it simply led you to the other side. It was infinite in all the right senses. The sun would come up and down at random. It didn’t have a set time. The stars moved around and weather happened when it felt like it.

The Imperial Plains of Tyiron held their own world to make and create. They had the power to do just that.

We return to the liquid like train screaming across the plains. It’s unholy ghostly blue lights casting into the darkness and even seen when pure daylight was present.

The train car that he found himself in looked like any other car he had seen in his ‘previous’ life. Both sides of the car were lined with plastic blue seats and poles to hold onto. The windows shone nothing but a pale reflection. He looked forward towards the next car. It shined with warm light. He looked back towards the back of the train. He had been grabbed by the middle of the train, but it seemed that he was in the caboose now.

Onward and forward. He moved into the next train. It was themed of black and silver. A chess board. The walls were lined with castles and clouds, the ceiling was a sky and the car expanded out a bit more then the other. Behind the castle walls he could see the windows the train car. It seemed as if he was in a new dimension. He stepped forward onto the board. A horse with a knight materialized in front of him.

“A worthy opponent has appeared, hail the lords of Tyiron. Prepare to meet your doom.” The knight boasted, but did not move. It held a jousting pole in its right hand. The ending was no fist though. A needle that if one looked close enough descended into millionth of sharpness.

He moved a square up. The knight’s horse took off and moved in its L shaped pattern. He stopped. The board was six by six. Smaller then a normal chess board. The knight would reach him if he took another step. He wasn’t sure if the knight would strike if he was right next, but he had to take the chance. He moved towards the knight. The horse danced around him.

The knight now loomed over him staring down. He could feel a viscous smile behind that helmeted face. Eyes that thirsted on his flesh already. The voice sounded so gallant, but behind that metal was a sadistic creature.

He stepped to the right and around the knight. The knight gave a growl and moved to the out square. He had him now. All he had to was diagonally zig zag to the edge of the board and the knight could not catch him. He did just that. Left then right and his feet crossed thresh hold of the board and onto the outfield. The knight and its horse sat on next to the square that he had just exited. It stared at him with a stillness that made him uneasy.

“Let your flesh be ripped from your screaming soul” The knight said as it liquefied and dripped back into the board.

He moved to the next train car.

The car door slid open. Hot humid air hit swept across his face. A jungle dripped from the ceiling and crawled down and onto the floor of the car. A small river ran through the middle from door to door. Something sat on a small chair in the stream. He moved forward and the door behind him closed and disappeared behind vines. Large trees spanned into the air and covered him with canopies. The windows of the train, like the castle before, could be seen behind them. The thing sitting in the chair came to life as his feet met the stream. It was human shaped, but skin like blue oil. Large horns that spiraled like a ram spun from it’s head of yellow and black. It wore a pin striped suit, perfectly fitted to its slender body. It rose from the chair and opened it’s eyes to him. The face was sharp, beautiful, with eyes of orange, Lips of black and red with teeth bladed.

“Another game?” the man said to it.

It opened its mouth and the words lulled their way into his head.

“No game, only revelations”

I was thinking about the cover art of Stephan Kings The Waste Lands and it held such an impact on me. I haven’t read the book yet, but I did read the first entry in the dark tower series. I feels like that world is very bizarre and tried to replicate it a bit with this story.

I did change tone from the beginning to the middle. Moved to a narrative to a degree, returning to our main hero/victim after explain the world a bit.

Let us see if our friend can survive to the end in the future.

“You know there is poison in there, right”

“Yes, yes of course, I am building up my tolerance” He took another sip of his tea.

David sat back in the chair. Taking in the man willingly sipping himself to death on tea. Simon Wells.

“I mean David, who did you think hired you to kill me?” Simon speared his chicken with his fork and stopped few inches from his mouth, his eyes staring at David “It was me.”

David brought his thumb and index finger to his eyebrows to massage his head.

“Mr.Jamster?” Simon laughed a bit before taking a bite of the chicken “I swear you would of known once you heard me speak in person. Mr.Jamster, what a name to make up” he mumbled through chewing.

David straighted out his vest and recomposed “So you are saying, you hired me, to kill yourself, and you payed me one hundred thousand dollars to do it? Is that what I am hearing right now.

Simon took another sip of his tea “You got any more of that poison? They always brew the tea so bitter here, what was it again?”

“Atropine”

“Yes, that’s it. You didn’t happen to have anymore of that?”

“While it wouldn’t matter, you are literally dying right now, no I do not have anymore on me” David took a sip of his water and returned to massaging his head while watching Simon chowed down on his chicken cordon blue.

Simon gave a laugh “Well, we will see about that” He finished the cup of tea. “You see that raven out there” he pointed over his left shoulder.

David leaned over to the right. The restaurant had a large window that outlooked the road and side walk out side. On a park bench that was across the street, the largest raven David had ever seen sat at the end. Peering inside at them.

“His name is Nightshade” Simon said smiling, flashing his eyebrows.

“And?” David was grow delirious of the whole situation.

“Nothing, that’s it. You know, I haven’t seen you in what? Fifteen years? When I heard your voice over the phone I knew instantly it was you. How the hell did you become an assassin? Of all career paths, what a wild one” Simon wiped his lips and adjusted his horn rimmed glasses.

David’s eyes flashed left and right to see if anyone had heard his career choice. Then his eyes caught the raven, Nightshade, eying a small boy that had sat next to him “I think your raven is about to eat a small child”

“Don’t worry, he has eaten worse”

David return to look at Simon eyebrows raised and shook his head in disbelief “Simon, death should be claiming you right now” He checked his wrist watch “I-I, What is this? How are you still alive? Why?” David took in a breath and racked his mind for a moment the exhaled deeply and frown putting up his hand “do you want a refund?”

Simons face lit up with a smile and he belted forward with laughter “Are you kidding? You tried, didn’t you? Honest to goodness try. Simon rose from the chair “I hope you don’t mind taking care of the bill for today, David, It was fantastic seeing you, but sadly, you weren’t able to get the job done. It was worth the try, though. Atropine, didn’t expect that.”

David rose and they shook hands.

“Well, see you around, be careful. Your line of work is a bit” Simon waved his hands “well you know. Take care, David” He smiled at him and shook his head and said “Good to see you again, how great.” then walked out into the street. Nightshade spread it’s enormous wings and landed on his shoulder.

David took his seat again and leaned back again staring at the empty seat.

A waiter approached “Would you care for an after dinner drink, sir?”

For a moment David sat silently then turned to the waiter.

“Bruichladdich X4+1 Quadrupled whiskey, make it a double”

There is a scene from Princess Bride, Battle of Wits. Wesley, the hero, is challenged to a battle of wits. He takes two cups of wine, turns his back and then returns the two cups to the table. The challenger, Vizzini reasons, convolutely, then cheats to choose the cup in front of him. As he boasts that he cheated, he dies. Both cups were poisoned and Wesley had built up tolerance to the poison.

This scene is fantastic and the ending of him poisoning both cups and having tolerance always gets me.

A casual meeting of two, one a murder and one trying to get murdered. The raven, and the tea came from a look at the tea “Poe me A cup” which is a Edgar Allen Poe themed tea. Very good might I add

Bruichladdich X4+1 Quadrupled whiskey is also some of the strongest alcohol in the world.

Just some Fun~

“We looked everywhere for you, where did you go?” she said moving towards him.

He looked at her with half lidded eyes. He was cold, but why? Where was he? Where had he been? Who was he? The women covered him with a jacket and ushered him off towards a car that was parked near the side of the road.

“What were you thinking?” Her voice shook as she closed the door and turned on the engine.

“I didn’t think. There is no thoughts” he mumbled back at her. His eyes shifted from one side of the car to the other. Something was wrong. Obviously. What did I do?

The car sped down the road and into a long stretch of winding roads passing by winter bashed trees and large stones seemed to be stacked in odd, impossible ways.

“What was a I doing before?”

“Before? Before what?”

“Before I left”

“Dr. Shim, you have to stop playing games, we are at our wits ends, working day and night, every minute that goes by and we do not figure this out. Well, you know what happens.” She shook her head.

He closed his eyes and peered out the window towards the gray sky. I found the key. The thought scrapped against his mind. I found it.

The car wound up a large hill and a massive building built from brick and glass roes high into the sky. Smoke stacks dwarfed the factory like building on both sides and at the sight his blood began to chill.

They pulled up and both got out of the car and moved towards the front door. as he approached he saw his reflection in the door. He was naked besides the long over coat that covered just above his thighs.

This is Dr.Shim. Was his first thought.

They moved into the facility. It was wide open, pristine, and looked as if it was brand new. The ceiling rose high and were filled with large arched glasses panels that shone the sky and smoke stacks. Grand chandeliers hung from steel beams and some how provided enough light for the whole place. Equipment of monstrous proportions rose in the empty space and computers, and desks were strobe about. As they entered, a bunch of people in white lab coats moved towards them, their eyes scanning him, all with frowns.

“Shim, what the fuck man, we are literally about to be ended and you are out doing what ever the hell this is” a man started yelling.

Shim looked at him with no remembrance.

“Please sir, we are running out of time, we need everyone on deck for this, this might be out last chance” a women with blond hair said. Her eyes looked puffy and her make up was a mess. His eyes scanned the rest. They all looked bent out of shape.Tired, beaten, on the their last leg. What was so important to them? What was important to him?

Words came from his mouth that he did not know where they came from “What do you think I have been doing? Wasting time?” He scowled at them and moved towards one of the large machines.

Something was coming back to him. But it wasn’t what he thought. Who he thought.

He placed his hand against it. The lights burned brighter and illuminated across the facility. He closed his eyes for a moment, then removed his hand and reopened them.

“Dr.Shim went looking for the answer to all of your questions. He found it, but Dr.Shim did not return with it” his eyes narrowed towards the crew.

The lady that had picked him up moved towards him, but he put out his right hand in a stopping motion. He turned his palm towards the ceiling and strained his arm, pulling it towards him then crushed his palm and brought it into his chest. As he did the women screamed. Her body cracked and crumbled in horrible sound. Blood sprayed and pour although it stayed gliding in the air around her broken body.

The crew screamed and ran from him. The women’s body then seemed to fold into its self, over and over again until it fell to the ground in a mind shattering splat.

“Who would of thought that to save your race, you would condemn it. None of you would of found the solution.” he walked through the machinery and computers “Not even close. Dr.Shim knew this, so he sought alternative methods of acquiring knowledge.”

The man that had approached him as he entered burst from his hiding spot and ran for the door. Dr.Shim swiped his hand in a diagonal motion and the mans legs were cut from underneath him. His thigh and torso slammed into the cold floor and he crawled crying and screaming towards the door.

“What a pity”

The monster that was Dr.Shim sat on the cobble stairs outside the front door staring out at the snow covered mountains. Behind him, the door windows and large windows on the sides of the building were covered in blood and internals. He rested his chin on his hand in a thinking man position.

“What does a god do?”

This thought came from if a person went seeking knowledge, the answer, and found it. Yet, when they returned, something else came with them. Forbidden knowledge and creatures from the beyond is a very lovecraftian idea. I am a big fan of incomprehensible things. How might you try and comprehend them?

This story is vague. The threat to the human race is unknown, what Dr.Shim was looking for is unknown and what he brings back is really unknown too. It is the unknowning-ness that might drive us to salvation or damnation.