Realm Wraith (21 page)

The phone rang multiple times during the morning, David answering each time, up until he had to leave for work. It was Gabriel, trying to get through to Rayne, but Rayne wasn’t interested in speaking with him any more than he had to, so he’d repeatedly told David to get rid of him, and stop trying to make him pick up the phone. Eventually, the calls stopped, and Rayne felt he could finally relax.

He tried to enjoy his free time, but it wasn’t easy. He felt so tired, even though he’d only recently awakened. He was almost tempted to fall asleep again, to leave this world behind. An escape from oppressive reality, he rationalized. He was gripped by powerlessness in both worlds, but at least in the dream, he felt confident. In the dream, the rules didn’t matter. But he also knew the more often he returned, the deeper that realm would suck him in, the more twisted and unrecognizable his form would become, and the closer he’d slip towards insanity.

He felt Darrigan’s presence before he even heard or saw him. It was familiar now, and it stood out, as he was not a creature of this world.

“Get out of my living room,” Rayne growled. “I’m in no mood to talk right now.”

“You really are rude. How did you know I was here?”

“You’re too obvious. And who else would it be?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me. And it’s not like I brought Gabriel along with me.”

“I know Gabriel’s awake. What about Apolleta?”

“Though she is a Realm Wraith, she has yet to be pulled from her dream. I feel that her body must be trapped in a coma; alive, but unable to awaken. She will stay in the Abyss until it does.”

“So you just left her there? To come bother me?”

“I’m not a babysitter.”

“No, you’re a stalker that won’t leave me alone, it seems. Why are you so intent on haunting me? Are you waiting for me to die? Is it because you lost me once and wish to be the one to drag me back to hell?”

“Duty is duty. I originally came to bring you, but you did not truly die. I have no regrets either way. If you do die, I will not be the one to return you to the Abyss. It has already claimed you. Besides,” Darrigan gestured outwards. “I don’t get paid for what I do. There’s no reward, or detriment for bringing lost souls back. It’s our role in things.”

“So why bother?”

“Because it’s fun,” Darrigan’s smile spread into a wide grin. “To watch them screaming in terror as they’re taken against their will, dragging them from their reality into ours. To be with them as their awareness fades, and they know their reason is slipping away bit by bit, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Their will crumbles away in the Abyss, leaving a soul devoid of thought, where only emotion remains. We feed on that emotion.”

“You didn’t need to be that detailed.”

“It’s an exhilarating feeling. One I suppose you, as a human, wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand exhilaration. I imagine it’s like a drug for you, a cheap thrill.”

“Nothing so shallow as that. It’s a deeper feeling, a strong connection that we devour and savor. We sense and understand every tiny detail of that emotion as we feed upon it.”

“Then I guess that’s something I won’t ever understand,” Rayne replied. “Why would you tell me that, anyways? Are you really so starved for conversation?”

“I just thought you’d like to know.”

“I think you’re mistaken.”

“Then, let’s talk about you.”

“There’s nothing you need to know that you don’t already know about me.”

“Really? So you know why you’re in Hell?”

“This is conversation for you? You know I have no memory of anything like that.”

“Maybe I can help. I can take you places. Your childhood home, places that were important to you. Maybe it will stir up your memories.”

His offer almost intrigued Rayne, but something held him back. Though he did not want to follow Gabriel’s example of blindly hating this creature as he did, he did not want to openly trust a being he barely knew either, and the demon’s willingness to lead him around and give him answers at a moment’s notice, without asking for more than an undefined favor, made him wary.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to remember? What else are you going to do today, lie around watching this box? Come with me, everyone else will simply think you’re resting.”

Rayne didn’t answer. He turned away from the demon, putting his weight on his right side to face the back of his sofa. But after a moment, he turned back, and reached his hand out.

“Fine. Before I change my mind,” he said.

Darrigan gripped his arm tight, and a familiar sensation of loosening followed, just like the day before. Rayne immediately regretted his decision, realizing he’d have to face the same nightmarish delusions once he tried to return. But it was too late now. Darrigan pulled him upwards, and he stood in his living room beside himself. He stretched his legs, bumping briefly against the coffee table. A pair of teacups still rested on top, one half empty as Rayne had not yet finished drinking it. Looking down, he saw frost on the edges of the cup, the liquid inside frozen solid.

“Did you do that?” he asked.

“I’m not nearly as cold as you are,” Darrigan replied. “Come on.”

He pulled Rayne up and passed with him through the wall. They soared upwards over the city, flying faster than any jet. Buildings blurred beneath them as they flew, and flocks of birds scattered in their path.

Barely a moment had passed when they stopped again. Below them lay a small village, quaint cottages dotting rolling hills, surrounding a large concentration of buildings in the center.

“This is where?” Rayne asked his smoky companion.

“This is where you grew up, I believe.”

“Wait, I—” Rayne blinked, confused. “How do you know where I grew up? I can’t even remember. I mean, I meant to look it up but I hadn’t—how?”

Darrigan didn’t say anything. He did however, point to a single cottage sitting in the distance.

“Aren’t you going to answer? How do you know where I grew up?”

The reaper pulled him downwards, toward the indicated house. It was a well kept two-story building, surrounded by gardens. The grass was greener here, with visible buds of flowers.

“The people that live here now seem to be taking good care of the place,” Darrigan remarked.

That’s right,
Rayne realized. David had mentioned Rayne’s parents dying in a car accident. Now Rayne lived in the city, and had no brothers or sisters that he knew of. So of course strangers would be living in this place.

“Shall we go inside?”

Rayne nodded. He passed through the walls of the upper floor, entering the little cottage, pulled by the reaper’s hand. He looked down the wooden floors and stucco walls with walnut edging.

“Are you certain I lived here before? It doesn’t look familiar.”

“I might have gotten the address wrong. I was fairly positive.”

“You dragged me here when you weren’t even sure?!”

Darrigan looked towards the stairs. “Do you hear that?”

“Hmm?”

“I think there’s someone downstairs.”

“So what? They can’t see us.”

“Wouldn’t you like to see who lives in your childhood home? Come on.” Darrigan tugged at his hand. He led Rayne down a flight of rustic stairs, painted white, against a wall with blue flowered wallpaper. The wallpaper caught Rayne’s eye, and in his mind images of his photo book flashed by. Him as a young boy with two strangers, in front of that same pattern of flowers on the wall. Did he come to the right house after all?

He stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, bringing a halt to Darrigan as well.

“Now what?” the reaper grumbled, looking Rayne in the eyes.

It was like a bolt of lightning illuminating something forgotten. Rayne did indeed know this place, but not from his memories, not from his childhood. This room, it was the same. A wooden entryway, surrounded by arched doors that led to other parts of the house. A bare wooden floor, the only visible furniture a table in the center of the room, host to ceramic bowl with a country design, filled with apples. Fresh paint coated the walls of the cheerful room, surrounding polished floors. But there was no doubt in his mind he had seen this very room, before a deluge of water had flooded it.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked, unable to bring his voice above a strangled whisper.

“We’ve been over this already.”

“Don’t give me that! Answer me!” His voice was an angry roar now, accusing and rough. “Is this part of the torment? Is my suffering when I’m asleep not enough?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I saw this house, in the Abyss! It was rotten, decayed, but it was the same house!”

“Sometimes the Abyss can mess with the mind.” Darrigan did not seem concerned. “If you remembered this place, you may have thought you saw—”

“Don’t give me that bollocks! It was there! I saw it!”

Repulsed, Rayne backed away from Darrigan, dropping his hand.

“Rayne, wait!”

A sudden whirling dizziness overtook Rayne and the world around him turned to static, like the reception on the television gone bad. He saw the wallpaper and paint on the walls peel and decay, the floorboards rotting beneath his feet. He felt himself shifting through an unseen rift, reality falling away into nightmare. Demons melted out of the shadows, grabbing his arms with clawed hands and wrenching him deeper into the void. Above him, the air rippled and a skeletal hand clutched his shoulder and lifted him up.

The world stabilized. The dizziness vanished, and Rayne hung in a blue sky among cottony clouds, held by Darrigan, who glared at him.

“I told you not to let go!” he hissed. “Do you know how far I had to fly to find you?”

Rayne gasped, trying to compose himself after lurching back and forth between worlds. Looking down he couldn’t see the small village anymore. They were over what looked like a city, but it wasn’t Langfirth. None of these buildings looked familiar.

“Where are we?” he gasped.

“Search me. I was trying to track you between dimensions before I lost you entirely. I warned you, if you let go of my hand, the Abyss will take you.”

Rayne’s hand clasped the top of Darrigan’s as it continued to hold his shoulder. “Does it really matter? I go back there every night anyways.”

“This is different. Your body’s not in a natural state of sleep. There’s no telling what might happen if I leave you that way for too long. You could lose your mind; do you want that?”

“Obviously not.”

Darrigan took Rayne’s hand and held him up in the air. “Why did you get so upset back there?” he continued. “So you saw that house in the Abyss? The Abyss echoes this universe at times. A mirror image of your childhood home, drawn from your own thoughts and memories, such things can exist. They become warped, like the mind itself.”

“But I have no memory of that place. I only know it because I saw it in the Abyss. Why would that happen?”

“You may not consciously remember things, but sometimes the memory lies deeper inside. Everything you’ve forgotten is still there, waiting for you to find it.”

With eyes half-closed, Rayne looked down at the cityscape below him, so wholesome and steady in the wake of spiraling madness he had become acquainted with. “You still haven’t explained to me how you knew that was my old home.” He rubbed his head with his hand. There’d been a dull pain echoing through it since he’d woken up that morning, and his frustration was only intensifying it. “The car accident wasn’t the first time we’d met, was it?” He sifted through jumbled thoughts. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve taken such an interest in me. That’s how you knew where I grew up.”

Darrigan didn’t look at him. “I guess I was too obvious, huh?”

“What do you know about me? And I want the truth this time.”

“Fine, fine. But not here. We should return to your home.”

He tightened his grip, and they soared over the landscape. Rayne watched the earth flashing by, as they passed over cities, rivers, mountains, and even the ocean in a swift, calm motion that almost felt as if they were standing still. The beautiful sight touched Rayne’s spirit, just watching the entire world flying beneath them.

The skyline of Langfirth appeared and drew nearer, and soon they were in the maze of tall buildings. They stopped beside a familiar building of brown stone, and out on the front curb, there was Mrs. Robins going out for a short stroll with her cane in hand.

“Wait,” Rayne said. “I’d rather talk to you like this. You can bring me inside my flat later.”

“That could be dangerous. The longer I leave you like this, the greater the risk you can’t go back.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of that before you took me to begin with,” Rayne countered, still upset with his companion for deceiving him.

Darrigan led him to the roof, a cold, flat, and dirty space of grey concrete. Stagnant water pooled here and there, and gathered pigeons took their perches along the ledges. Here the two specters landed. The moment he touched the ground, Rayne yanked his hand away from the demon’s clutches.

“Wait, what are you—”