The Fancy
I awoke in a hotel room I�d never seen before, hours late for a job I didn�t carry. The air outside was bright, but my watch on the end table told me that darkness was soon to come. I hurriedly stood up and dressed, thinking better late than never, and rushed out the hotel-room door.
The hallway was busier than any could possibly expect in a small hotel such as this was, odder than that, however, were the people that plagued the hall. They seemed to be giving me much of their attention. Although some seemed frightened upon glancing at me, most seemed especially angry, and violently so, I determined from their frequent twitches and clenched fists. My muscles grew tense with anxiety as I moved past these strangers, expecting an attack to be launched in my direction at any moment. I grew short of breath, having, now, to concentrate on each deep inhalation rather than allowing the natural process to occur. I felt a pounding in my chest, as if my heart were breaking its lease, without the official documentation.
For reasons inexplicable to myself, these people, these strangers, frightened me.
As I neared the elevator, I glanced down at my feet, I couldn�t remember putting my shoes on, yet I could certainly feel them. The shoes were there, tied in a double knot, as is always my fashion but�
I was not walking.
Instead, much to my surprise, I was floating a good foot above the floor. As soon as I understood what I was doing, I started to fall, thinking for sure that this wasn�t possible. Something caught me though, an internal safety-net, realization. I quickly levelled myself and maintained this wonderful new gift I�d discovered.
But could this be the reason for the anger these people displayed? I certainly would not have done the same if in their shoes, but� no, I eventually decided, for that excuse carried no warrant. I continued.
The elevator arrived and I entered, alone, and pressed the button; not paying attention to which particular button I�d pressed, I simply followed some half-dazed intuition. I stood, of course in the most non-literal fashion, and waited as the light blinked down from floor to floor. The door opened and I wandered out.
Here, too, the hall was filled with many people, and it was also here that these people seemed unreasonably afraid of, and angry with, me. They all glared in my direction as I hovered through them towards the end of the hall. I could feel their anger with me turn into hatred and, in turn, ever increasing rage. My fear strengthened as my nostrils filled with their hatred, thick as blood, and as my pores seemed to soak the thickness in, deep into my very being.
I was holding my breath again, I had to concentrate again on each breath. I felt dizzy and was probably close to passing out.
Halfway down the hall I noticed I was on the wrong floor, headed towards the kitchen and dining area rather than the exit. My fear increased ( like the hatred of the strangers ) that much more as I turned towards the elevator again.
I could feel their anger towards me doubling, tripling. I stumbled slightly, almost falling to the floor and loosing my floating capabilities. But hidden inside me, deep within my anxious core, sat a tinge of courage. Subconsciously I managed to maintain my hovering state even though I then believed, whole-heartedly, that my floating was the cause for their overwhelming hatred. I could feel them preparing to attack, their angry energy invading my every inch of personal space.
Again I entered the elevator, this time, however, I depressed the button which would return me to the same floor as my room had been. My fear had risen to a level unbearable to me. I could hear and feel the heavy thud of my heart pulsing thickly in my neck, on my wrists. Nerves quivered ferociously in my lower eyelid, as if some parasitic insect had decided, after all, that my eye was not a good host, and now fought against my flesh to escape.
Somehow, I arrived at my room without, incident, without being attacked, and entered, closing the door behind me with a click of the lock. I turned on the light and threw my keys on the end table which sat beside the bed. Feeling slightly safer as my fear slowly subsided, I surveyed my room for the first time.
On the west wall sat a window, which showed a now darkening sky, and in the northwest corner sat a clothing rack of the sort you would see in a store. The rack was circular, the kind that rotates around to allow the shopper to easily view the inventory without having to move around the rack. It held many hangers upon which hung the same white dress shirt on each. Each was collared, collars folded neatly down, and all were short sleeved. Every shirt was buttoned up to the collar and pressed neatly.
There was a knock at the door. Hesitantly, I crept to it, walking softly to avoid the treacherous creak of possible weakened floorboards, and pressed my ear against its thick wood, holding my breath as I listened to the other side. I heard nothing but another knock, which blared in my ear, forcing me to jump away from the door. Surely whoever was on the other side of the door had heard my terrified gasp. My heart racing again, I stood for another couple seconds, still holding my breath, save for the odd, shallow inhale-exhale, dreading the decision I was contemplating. But finally, against my every instinct and better judgement, I swallowed my fear and turned the doorknob, which automatically realised the pins of the lock.. At my door stood two women I�d not known for years, yet I knew immediately who they were. One spoke;
� I heard you were floating a little while ago?� She asked.
� Yes.� I exclaimed
� I didn�t know you were into that sort of thing.� Karen commented, her face remaining emotionless. I noticed that she was wearing glasses. Had she worn glasses way back then? I was sure she hadn�t.
�Oh yeah,� I responded, �See��
As I said this, I made a gesture with my right hand towards the keys I�d thrown upon the end table, they flew through the air, as if with a mind of their own, and landed directly into my hand, jingling slightly as if to exclaim, tah dah.
I was stunned, for I�d never possessed these powers before this moment, but I didn�t show my astonishment.
� You�re pretty good,� Danika commented.
�Yeah,� I repeated, � I�ve been studying for years now.�
In my head I knew this to be a lie, yet impossibly, at the same time, it was also the truth. Regardless, I couldn�t stop the words from fleeing from within and they came out before I�d given them initial thought.
Movement caught the corner of my eye.
I turned to see four men, or they could have been women; I�d no way to tell for they all wore heavy robes, the kind you�d see on a monk, with the hoods up and covering their faces. Each carried bold magick markers which they used to draw upon the hotel walls. Even as I turned, I noticed that already each of the four walls which formed the room were covered from base to ceiling, the latter also covered, with oddly shaped symbols. Perhaps the symbols of some ancient language, perhaps those used for voodoo. At the time I�d not known, though some I did recognize. Each were drawn with careful, though skilled, lines and loops of black magick marker, each interlinking with others, but somehow also utterly separate, each in worlds of their own.
One of these symbols stood out from the rest;
It held my attention briefly, as if it contained a supernatural magnet which pulled at my eyes, sinking them deeper into this logo of spellcraft. I stepped towards the closest monk figure.
My first reaction? Instinct? God damn it, I yelled!
� Get the fuck out of here. Fuck! I�ll have to pay for this shit. Get the fuck out!!�
Again I�d not taken the necessary time to contemplate my words, otherwise they�d have been slightly less colourful. However, again it was, by now, too late, I�d already uttered them.
Three of the hooded strangers walked towards the door, where I noticed that Danika and Karen were no longer standing, ( had they performed their duty already, leaving before the bomb blows�) none of the monk figures spoke a single word. The fourth, however, must have decided his work was not yet complete, for he continued to write upon the wall, his wrists looping and twisting as if he were holding a foil in defence of his life. I grabbed the back of his robe, pulling the hood off his head.
But there was no head, in fact, there was no body either. The robe which I held within my hand hung limp to the floor and certainly held no physical person. The marker hit the floor with a tappittytap as it bounced from lid to base, then settled, forever silent. Suddenly, as I stood in the empty room in awe, there was no robe either. My fist, clenched tightly upon itself, held nothing. I twisted and turned, viewing the entire room and each of its shadowed corners, but saw nothing. The room had returned to normal; no symbols artistically etched upon the walls, no hooded monks, and no magick marker-
The door slammed shut of it�s own accord, it�s loud thump forced me out of my thoughtful daze.
As I glanced at the door, movement caught the corner of my eye, I turned to witness the clothing rack in the corner spinning, as if some child�s spectre stood and turned it�s metal hoop. The shirts remained on their hangers but spun outward like the blades of a helicopter.
As if the situation weren�t odd enough, the clothing rack appeared to be expanding, as if filling with air, it�s still spinning hoop pushing against the walls which met in the corner. Slowly, endlessly, the rack continued to grow until it had cut off my only two escape routes; the window and the door. I sat on the bed, like a child my knees were held up and wrapped around by my arms, fingers interlocked together. I cringed and watched as the rack approached me.
The hoop swung the shirts out over the bed, continuing to grow, continuing to approach me. Although no true physical danger seemed present, somewhere, in a hidden section of my mind, I knew that being touched by the animated clothing rack would surely be lethal.
At the last second, as the shirts spun in closer, closing in about two feet from my face, I remembered my knife, which was holstered on my belt. I unsheathed it, snapping it outward and forcing the blade to lock into place. The shirts were now inches away from me and I swung the blade at them in an arc, slicing at them.
And suddenly there was no spinning, growing clothing rack, for as quickly as it had started spinning and expanding, it had returned to its original spot in the corner, no larger than it had been the first time I noticed it. The clothes didn�t swing on their hangers, but rather, hung motionless as if they had not moved at all.
Slowly I crept off the bed, anxiety pouring from every pore as I stepped down and slowly slid towards the rack. It sat completely motionless in the corner, as if it, with a mind of it�s own, were playing with my mind in an attempt to drive me mad. While I slowly crept towards the rack, my head spun in every direction, searching the room in disbelief that I could possibly be alone. With each step I expected the rack to twitch ever so slightly, as if some horrible game of tag where being �it� meant falling to the deepest canyon of hell.
As I frightfully surveyed the room, still edging towards the possessed clothing rack, movement caught my eye from the night-filled window. Initially I couldn�t make out the figure that perched upon the sill outside, however, as I slowly tip-toed towards the window, as cautious as a mouse pulling food from an activated snap-trap, I saw what the silhouetted creature was. An iguana.
It�s eyes I noticed first, for they carried an eerie, almost devilish, orange glow that seemed more human than lizard. It glared at me, pulling and tearing at my soul, as if it were the personification of Hell itself. It�s body was as long as the sill, about two feet, but it�s tail swung out of view, past the sill and, hence, past the window and out of view. It�s flesh, though mainly light green, seemed to swirl with colours, changing from green to yellow, to brown and back; though at the same time never changing from it�s original shade of green.
It pulled its right shoulder back, as if preparing to strike, which, surprisingly, it did. It�s shoulder slammed forward into the first of two panes of glass, which shattered and sprayed down upon the lizard. It stared deep into me with it�s glowing, near human eyes; it was coming for me. Once the glass had fallen like a crystal waterfall, the lizard slowly crept through the opening it had created. It started to change shape.
I hadn�t noticed at first, for my attention was directed mostly at it�s eyes, which continuously pulled me deeper into it�s own world of chaos. Occasionally glancing suspiciously at the clothing rack, then back to those horrible eyes. Then I noticed the shade of its skin fade away until it was a pale white, almost ceramic. Its body had shortened in length but widened at its sides.
The iguana-thing threw its shoulder into the second, and last, pane of glass and slowly crept it�s way into my room, all the while continuing to change its shape, moulding and twisting as if giant invisible hands were shaping it like clay. By the time it finally entered my room, its shape had become like a hand shaped out of ceramic. It�s fingers, which stood tall as if reaching for the sky, suddenly clenched into a fist then opened immediately, throwing it�s fingers back at the air. But now they were tipped with claws two inches long and as lethal as a female dog protecting her young. And it went still. It sat on the sill as if it were an artistic ornament placed for decoration. However, its stillness was short-lived.
It slowly ascended into the air, pivoting slightly as if attempting to point at me. As it moved to point, it once again shifted its shape. By the time it was parallel with the floor, it had twisted itself into the shape of a disk, it�s clawed fingers then numbered more than five, for they had shifted to blades and surrounded the perimeter of the disk. It started to spin in the air until it moved like the blade of an electric saw, then started to float in my direction, spinning as if to de-head me.
Oddly, at that point I had a thought of the sort one would most certainly not expect in a situation such as mine; I was late for the job I didn�t have.
I ran to the end table and picked up my keys. I, to this very day, do not remember placing them back on the table, but there they were. The disk came flying at my head, I simply ducked and continued to move forward, out of its way if it were to immediately attack me from behind. It didn�t, but rather it continued in its present course as if once it chose a route of attack, it had to commit. Then it turned and came towards me again.
I carefully searched the room, the sensation that I was forgetting something, Missing something; something not to be forgotten. I couldn�t remember.
I dodged the flying disk again and headed towards the door. I�d come back for whatever I�d forgotten once I had more time. For now, work.
As I opened the door, I turned and saw the disk flying towards me again. Quickly, I ran out of the room and slammed the door shut behind me. I heard the disk pummel into the other side of the door with a thud. I imagined it had stuck itself into the door, but I had no intention of opening it again just to find out. As I walked away, I�m sure I heard the blade grind away at the door, as if to follow through.
The halls were empty.
I remembered thinking how odd it�d been when there were people everywhere, but things had gotten worse since I�d last seen them, and it seemed to me much more unusual that none of these angry men retained their post; if not at least for another chance at me. But none were there; in fact the was more was missing than just the people. Down this hallway, carpeted in crimson patterns that seemed to me to be splatters, like blood, I could see no other door, save for that of the room I�d just left and that of the elevator, twenty or so feet before me. I stepped slowly towards the elevator, memories of my last journey towards this hypnotic elevator playing themselves over and again in my head.
As I closed the gap between it and I, a door at the end of the hall materialised from nowhere, I recognised it as the stairwell exit and exhaled a gust of tension; those would certainly work well as an alternative to the elevator, whose sight I really couldn�t bare at the moment.
But I still had to walk past it, which meant being to far within its mental grasp.
I ran, blindly, with my arms extended to both sides, trying to remain as far to the left of the hall and farthest from the elevator. I don�t remember tripping or stumbling, but suddenly I was lying on my face, nose aching and pouring my blood generously onto the carpet. My blood ran a little down the carpet, matching the splatter designs of the carpet exactly. I followed the pool with my eyes until, to my horror, it ran under the elevator door; which, I�d just realised I�d fallen in front of.
Perhaps it was only my fear, irrationalising everything around me, and perhaps it was some deep, previously untapped, instinct, but I scurried myself up and burst towards the door to the stairwell, not wanting to see what the elevator was going to do next, for now it had a taste of my blood.
As I ran down the stairs I remembered an old dog of mine, a wolf my parents had owned before I�d been born. She�d have protected me to the death, and in a sense, she did. We�d taken her to our cabin when I was seven, and we were playing on the beach when some guy had tried to take me. My dog bit right through his ankle and when my assailant had thrown a punch her way, she�d caught his fist and bit through his hand. He fell, slipping on the sand, trying to run from my dog, and she got him on the throat. He was dead long before my parents heard me screaming and came running down to the beach.
They�d killed my dog after that. Claiming that once dogs had a taste of human blood the craved and sought after it. I�d once thought of that theory as bullshit, but I really think I�d kill that elevator if I could. Perhaps it would crave me, and seek me out; apparently stranger thing have happened.
I arrived in the lobby which was empty, save for the doorman. I stopped running, trying to retain my cool, I�d done nothing wrong, but still I felt guilty of something. As I approached the doorman I noticed his clothing, not the suit jacket and dress pants one would expect, but those of a monk; the same robe as those of the monks who�d snuck into my room.
He stepped in front of the door as I approached, blocking my exit. Not changing my demeanour, I continued towards him, intent on bursting into a run at the last moment and pushing past him, throwing him to the ground if I must. As if he�d read my mind, he suddenly spoke,
�Not just yet. You may go, but must hear this first. You are chosen, but there are those who would test that theory. You must wear this all places and all times.�
With that, he handed me a rock, which through it had been drilled a slight hole to fit a metal loop and through the loop a piece of string. Shivers tormented my spine as I saw the picture etched upon the rock and painted in gold. The two eyes which had been temporarily painted upon the wall of my room. The rest of the rock was the brown of dried blood, but also transparent in places. As I took the rock from him, he vanished and the robe fell to the ground in a pile.
Suddenly I was desperate to leave. The doors were unlocked and I pushed past them, not looking backed when they slammed loudly behind me. For I suddenly knew for sure that the elevator had already made it�s way to the bottom floor, and could probably be seen edging its was closer to the exit; I didn�t want that sight just then.
The sky outside was such a dark shade of blue, it was near black, and certainly would be soon. The darkened sky, however, was not the centre of my attention. The streets were completely void of people, walking or vehicular, and this oddity pressed itself in my mind. I thought back to the hotel hallways, busy as Hell one moment, then as barren as the deadest desert the next. I thought I could hear the humming of the flying disk I�d left back in the hotel room door, but it was nowhere around.
I walked the streets slowly, feeling that I was not entirely present; in body perhaps, but my spirit was elsewhere; or maybe visa-versa. Perhaps I was dreaming, that could certainly explain some of these oddities. Usually, however, it�s within the dream that you are confused and unaware of being asleep. When you�re awake, you know it. And I did.
Stars began to shine their faces upon the earth, and it was then that my world turned itself upside down and inside out.
At first I thought they were just abnormally bright, a simple enough solution. But as the sky darkened and all the stars began to show, I saw also that they were colours of which I�d never seen in the night sky. Neon blues and yellows, greens purples and pinks, and colours I�d never seen in my life and could never name. Even if I were suffering some unexpected acid flashback, which I�m sure many would try to claim upon hearing my story, that couldn�t explain why the stars were concentrated to a small oval-shaped area of the sky. The remainder of the sky had stars, but they were a simple faded white, as if faded by the brightness of the other, much brighter, stars.
I continued walking for quite some time, and I�m certain my eyes rarely left the night sky. As I watched the stars grow so bright they almost lit up the streets, I realised I was lost. I had wandered aimlessly for so long and had never bothered to wonder where I was going.
While I paused to ponder my next move, I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, as if someone had run between the two trees on the lawn to my right; of course, when I looked in that direction, there was no one to be seen. Admitting to myself that I was tired and surely seeing things I decided to sit against the tree for a while to rest, I wished, too, that I�d had something to eat, but after a rest I could find someplace; though the thought had crossed my mind already, I was till sure that there would be someone left in this city.
Although a little hard on the back, my stiff legs sighing as they were unburdened was reason enough to rest upon the tree farthest the sidewalk. The grass was a little moist with dew, but I was too tired to care. I�d only been walking for a couple hours, I was sure, but my legs felt as if they�d been going all day and night. My stomach grumbled in an angry message.
As if on cue, my rest was interrupted. Something wrapped around my throat, tight enough to cut my breath completely, luckily my last lung-action had been an inhale, I had a bit of air to sustain me shortly.
Suddenly someone stood in front of me, though this someone was more of a something. It�s skin was black and shiny, it almost seemed to creep around, always moving from one spot to another in fluid waves. It�s eyes a dark yellow, no pupils nor eyelids, as if this were some giant lizard; it came complete with a slender, serpentine tail, which, I realised, was what was wrapped around my throat.
The creature came in close, baring is pointed teeth and snarling slightly, just a low gutteral moan deep in it�s throat. It came face to face with me and I could smell it�s breath, sweet like rotting meat crossed with sour milk. When I gagged it seemed to grin in pleasure, but it loosened it�s hold on my neck and I could breath again, although it�s tail remained coiled around my neck, in case I made a wrong move I supposed.
�Grrraught rrran torrrrr.� It growled at me. I, of course, merely sat against the tree in awe. Not only have I never seen a creature of the like before, I had no fucking clue what it was saying. I hoped it had enough intelligence to understand that. Apparently not, because it repeated itself, louder this time.
�GRRRAUGHT RRRAN TORRRRRR!�
when I didn�t answer the second time, it�s tail coiled tighter again, though not so tight as to cut of my breath.
�Torrr garrr krrri oparrr brrrirrr turrr torrr?� It kept it�s grin, but the tail loosened again, then left my throat altogether.
�Mearrr jourrr torrr frrrorrr karrr varrrvirrr�
I stood up and the Creature stepped back, offering me it�s hand. I gladly accepted as it meant this thing wouldn�t torment me anymore. But we needed a much better method of communicating.
�Manerrr mearrr.� It growled again and walked away. Here, at least, was a gesture I could comprehend. I followed.
I had a feeling of being followed and, when I looked back, saw the iguana with the orangey-human eyes staring back at me from atop the tree I�d seconds ago been leaning against.
It led us through the streets quickly, looking over it�s shoulders at every possible chance. I thought at first that it was merely checking back to make sure I was following, for it moved quickly and was hard to follow, but I eventually realised that it was mostly looking past and behind me, and it appeared scared, as if it were expecting something to come for us; and it�s eyes said that something was bad!
Finally we hit our destination, a tall warehouse-like building. It had to be at least 90 stories high, but there were no windows anywhere on its rusted exterior, only a single door at one corner and a video camera right above it. As we walked towards the door I noticed there was no doorknob, but that didn�t seem to matter. It suddenly opened of it�s own accord and we walked in.
It held it�s hand against my chest, stopping me, and growled at me.
�Frrrag merrr bindorrrr.� With this it turned and continued down .
I surveyed my surroundings. Counters lined the walls to my left and my right, and machine gadgets wires and trinkets lined those. The trinkets and such themselves were lined with a layer of dust, as was the floor which had once been tiled, but now bore more of the rotted wood underneath, the remaining tiles now appeared to be litter. The room went further ahead of me and faded into the darkness. The creature that�d taken me here must have exceptional night vision, for it�d taken no light source with it.
Before my curiosity could get me in trouble, sending me down that corridor with no guide, the creature returned.
�Manerrr mearrr� It growled and motioned for me to follow, which of course I did.
Eventually I was led to a large room in which were many more of his kind; six were positioned around the door we entered, two one on either side, by the door outside and two on each side of the door inside the room, there were roughly 60 seated on either side of the room, three at the far end of the room in front of a desk behind which sat one more. Four more stood along the wall at the back. The set up reminded me of a courtroom setting. But I couldn�t believe these creatures had something as advanced as a legal system?
Suddenly the niceness left and I was grabbed by the throat from behind by one of the creatureswho�s been beside the door inside. I was forced forward, through the centre of the room towards the desk, the one who�s tail had me around the throat growled at me in their gutteral language. If there was any kind of compassion or kindness in these creatures, it was only found in the first I had met of their kind.
I was thrown to the ground in front of the desk, where the three creature there began pulling my clothes off and inspecting them. I lay on the ground, naked except for the tail still wrapped, posed, around my neck; I could breathe, but if I moved wrong�
As they continued rooting through my clothes, going as far as to smell them, even the sock and underwear, I slowly sat myself up, escape or no escape, I wasn�t going to just sit and watch as they took my life. When the time came, I would do whatever necessary, whatever I could, to getr away. I thought I could remember the way back to the door we�d come in. Whether I could open it or not was another question. I�d deal with that when it came.
Suddenly one of the strip searchers growled in alarm, holding out the rock on a string. Upon seeing the rock, the other creatures in the room gasped, also surprised. The on whose tail was wrapped around my throat pulled me gently to my feet and released me from his grip. There I stood, still naked, but still alive. And for some reason the necklace was why. The one who held the rock brought it over and placed it around my neck.
Suddenly my head was swimming, the room blurred a bright white before receding to blackness. Ringing blared in my ears until I thought they were going to burst, but when I reached to take it off, unseen hands in the blackness held the necklace firmly in place; soon I felt another holding my wrists. I couldn�t remove the necklace as the ringing constantly grew louder. My body tingled from head to toe and slowly I lost all strength. I fell to the floor, and though unconscious, the ringing continued growing louder, even in my dreams.
There�s something about a good dream when you first wake up that sometimes makes you want to go back. When I first awoke from mine, I had forgotten all about the shit that had happened since waking in the hotel room and I tried to fall back into my fancy.
I walked down an alley I�d frequently travelled as a child, someone was with me, but I can�t tell who, I don�t even know If I knew him; or her. We came to a street which cut the alley in half, on the other side the alley continued. To the right was a building I lived in and to the left I could see the row of houses that led to a friend of mine. Perhaps it was this friend I was with?
It was light as we walked down the alley, but as we neared the street it suddenly grew dark and night hit instantly.
Before we could get halfway across the street to continue down the alley, we were stopped by two men in military fatigues, one wore the badges of Captain.
�Who�s back there? Down that alley?� The Captain demanded, staring through my eyes as though he already knew the truth.
�Nothing.� I answered.
But before we could continue on, hundreds of lights came on with the roar of a hundred engines. They shone in our direction from across the street to the right with such intensity I was blinded. But the lights dimmed slightly as the hundreds of Sport bikes blew by, their drivers glowing, each a different color. A dim yellow driver here on a Ninja ZX-6R, another, glowing neon purple and riding a Z1000 streetbike. Whatever their color, it was obvious that these were not humans.
They all drove by, cruising through and around the four of us, the captain and his soldier and myself and whomever, as we stood dumfounded in the middle of the street. When The had passed, the captain grabbed me by whatever shirt I�d been wearing and pulled me close, his eyes on fire with rage.
�I knew you were in on it.!� He spat at me, shaking me slightly. Through the corner of my eye I could see my companion run off and the soldier start to follow.
�Leave him be,� The captain ordered. �We�ve got what we need here.�
And I woke up. It wasn�t so much the content of this dream that made me want to go back in, but the feel of it. It seemed familiar to me, as if a memory long forgotten. As I felt myself pulled back into the dream, however, I was suddenly reminded of my current situation and I snapped fully awake.
I noticed immediately that the stone neclace still lay around my neck butt my head no longer hurt and my vision was as clear as usual. I moved to take the necklace off and get a closer look, when someone spoke.
�I wouldn�t take that off if I were you.�
I spun around to find one of the growling creatures resting in a chair beside the bed I�d been sleeping in.
�If you take it off you�ll suffer the same dizziness and pain as when you put it ont. And then you�ll feel it yet again when you put it back on.�
�You speak enlish?� I questioned as I dropped my hands from the necklace.
�No.� It answered. �You understand the speech of the shades.�
The confusion on my face must have been evident, for he started to explain.
�That stone on the necklace you are wearing allows you to understand our language. But those stones were thought to be extinct. Where did you get it?�
�Some monk gave it to me at the hotel.� I answered, then questioned, �How can a stone be extict? They don�t die, like animals.�
�Perhaps in your world, alien, but here things are alive that you�d not expect."
�MY world? Alien? What the Hell are you talking about?� I demanded. My confusion was turning into anger.
�That will be explained to you,� It said. �But not by me, I�m simply your medical aide. I am, however, to bring you to Polarrr as soon as you awake and are fit.�
�Polarrr? He your leader or something?� I asked, somewhat sarcastically.
�No,� It said, and I could see the offence in it�s eyes, immediately I felt guilty. �He is our teacher and guide. Come.�
And I followed. As we walked, I gained a sense that I had really offended him with my �leader � remark, for we didn�t speak a word to me until we arrived at a closed door; this one, too, had no door handle but opened as soon as my guide neared it. I was beginning to think these creatures might be communicating with one another psychically. I was ushered to enter the room, my guide staying behind. He closed the door behind me as I entered the chamber, which lit only by dim candlelight. There was a black carpet which ran the entire distance of the chamber, from the door to as far down into the chamber as I could see, which wasn�t too far because of the poor lighting. Large pillars rose from floor to tall ceiling and ran on either side of the carpet, each pillar roughly two feet in diameter and two feet apart from one another. The candles were posted on the walls to my left and right, sometimes hidden by the pillars. Up ahead it seemed as if no condles were lit, so I prepared to journey down the hall in darkness.
As I walked down the corridore, however, I was always kept within the radius of the light. From the corners of my eyes I couild sometimes see streaks of light running from one candle to another, when I looked at them, however, they were just candles, topped off by tiny licking flames. Even though the hallway up ahead always seemed to rest in darkness, I never once found myself that way.
At the end of the chamber stood a lone figure with no guards or assistants. I moved towards him slowly, consciously trying to show no signs of violence. And he stood. Finally I stood not two feet away from him and he motioned fro me to stop.
�I am pleased to meet you alien.� He started. �I have also expected you for several years now. You certainly took your time.�
�What do you mean expecting me?� I said, dumbfounded. �Where am I? What the Hell is going on here?�
�In time alien,� He said. �You will have all your answers. To begin, you are in a different dimension from your own, although they are very much connected. I,�
�How did I get here?� I interrupted.
� I don�t know, alien. All I know is that you have been sent here to help keep our dimensions apart. There is another race that would have our dimensions connected and who are, as we speak, preparing to make this a possibility. From what I understand, they are a fair distance from obtaining their goal, but it will happen soon enough.�
�Who are they?�
�There is no name for them but you would call them glimmers. We don�t name our races here, as you do. It is our belief that everything is equal, a part of everything else, and hence do not need names to separate them. It is a concept that we grew to understand as we were evolving.�
�Yeah, we could use a lesson in that. You said our dimensions were connected, what�� I stopped, knowing I needn�t ask.
�This dimension is what we call an Alternative Path Dimension, or A-P. We were created out of some paths not chosen in your dimension. This is only one of an infinite number of A-P�s, but our was created just before people became self aware in yours. Our different path must have included understanding the real concepts true concepts of life itself, and so our existence is almost completely unlike yours.�
�So what would be bad about this dimension joining with mine, it seems some of your knowledge could help us a little. I don�t know how much you know of my race, but we aren�t heading on the right path now.�
�I know everything of you race, I did evolve from you after all. All the life in our dimension remembers the entire span of it�s life, including those of past lives. I can remember being human, I can remember before I was human, a single atom floating in nothingness. Humans can�t seem to even remember their own births after a few years, so to remember before is not yet possible.
�The Glimmers don�t want to join dimensions with yours to gain and share knowledge, as my race would. They hope that your race will perish in the uniting of the dimensions, as it very well might. Along with millions of other races all across the universes of each dimension. Possibly mine, possibly even the glimmers. The problemn is it�s impossible to forcast the results a hundred percent. That�s why it must not happen.�
�If the life in your dimension more evolved than that in mine, why would there even be creatures evil enough to want the destruction of another race? See, we as humans have come to understand that, with wisdom comes the understanding of why peace is mandatory.�
�Peace is not mandatory alien!� It blurted out, though unsuccessful I could tell it was trying to conceal it�s anger. Then it continues, calmly again. �You see, as it is impossible to have light without dark or up without down, it is also impossible to have good without bad. It has been in our legends that the glimmers were forced to become evil, to ensure a balance.�
�why were the glimmers forced to become evil and not yourself?�
�Because alien, they evolved directly from you.�
...More To Come!
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