Alone.

Alone is a short story about the unknown, companionship, and what happens when we leave our world behind.

Alone.

By. G Donovan Vercler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The fear is upon us, the skies tried to warn us. Their perils are goners, no children to mourn us.” �" Streets on Fire, Lupe Fiasco and Matthew Santos

The Storm

If fear were to have a place to call home, then that home would surely rest upon the angular face of Mr. Robert Martin. Now, this is not to say that Mr. Martin is a cowardly man; in fact, the case is quite the opposite. However, on this fateful night, on the eerie seas at the edge of the world; Robert Martin is rather terrified indeed.

The serene abyss that Robert and his Great Dane, Mystery, have come to know, appears to have betrayed them completely, in an unprovoked mood swing of the most insidious kind. Never in their young lives, had Robert or Mystery felt a presence such as this.

The ocean stoops and sways in an unpredictable manner, tossing Robert and Mystery around like the playthings they truly are. They had weathered many a storm before, and in those circumstances, Robert had always admired Mystery’s ability to remain calm. This particular storm, however, was not of a common kind.

The incoherent howls of the wind, the disorienting, pattern-less crashing of the waves, it all seemed far too intentional. Mystery, in a state of distress, seemed almost to howl back at the winds and the waves, like some sort of desperate bargaining for her and Robert’s lives as they thrashed around the cockpit of his sailboat, the SS Odysseus.

Robert’s ship was simply not built for this type of treatment, and yet, here they were; already 5 minutes into this mess, with the Odysseus still fluttering about, completely unscathed. Robert and Mystery might have stopped to take this into account, had they not both been so concerned with figuring a way out of this abysmal mess.

It has taken everything Robert has to maintain his Nihilistic sense of humor thus far; a sense of humor, that had been instrumental in carrying him and Mystery through countless near-death encounters over their 8 years at sea.

Yet, no amount of Nihilism nor humor, could mask the sheer horror etched upon Robert’s face; for this was the face of a man bearing witness to the wave to end all waves.

The wave entered Robert’s point of view from his left peripheral. Even amongst the unrelenting chaos of the predicament, a presence of this magnitude demanded the utmost respect and attention.

The SS Odysseus does not offer much in the way of protection. It is, as previously mentioned, merely a sail boat. Its hull is a pearlescent white. It is kept in pristine condition by Roberts diligence and overall attention to detail (storms like this did help matters, typically).

His sails match this color as well as they can. The obligatory wood in between, which make up the other central functions of the ship, are of a light brown color. The deck however, is a of a dark wood variety. Robert isn’t quite sure of the type, but it does its job.

For aesthetic purposes, Robert replaced his stock steering wheel with a massive wooden one. It was a wheel one would expect from pirate tales of old. To compliment this, in jest, Robert had installed a skull and crossbones flag upon the top of the Odysseus’ mast. This particular aesthetic design seemed rather ironic at the moment, but Captain Martin scarcely had time to notice, for a true terror that only the seas could produce, had still loomed over Robert’s helpless vessel like a shapeless deity. The wave appears fully open to the idea of claiming Robert Martin and Mystery as its new treasures, a fortune to be held eternal in Davey Jones’ Locker.

Robert turns his giant steering wheel with all the strength that only one in true peril can muster. Mystery continues to howl back at the infinitum of swirling winds, now with more of bite. It’s almost as if she’s warning the ocean to stay its course.  Unbeknownst to her, it doesn’t appear to be effecting the situation much.

Robert, in a subconscious effort to denounce the seriousness of the situation, screamed as he furiously turned into the wave, “Not good, not good!”

Robert is right, it was not good.

Captain Robert Martin successfully turned his ship in time to give the Odysseus a fighting chance. What he did not know, was that it did not matter.

The simple truth of the matter, is that Robert and Mystery are still heading directly towards a supernatural force of unfathomable power.

All Robert Martin can do now, is sit back and hope for the best of outcomes. The waves and winds suddenly seem to silence, as if to make way for their King. As the SS Odysseus unwillingly trudges towards the inevitable, Robert sits back to comfort the now-silent Mystery.

As they touch, Mystery enters a state of complete calm, as if she has accepted her fate.

The wave approaches, nearer and nearer, and hunches over the crew of the Odysseus. The wave blinds the all-seeing eye of the full moon above. Robert and Mystery are truly, hopelessly, alone.

 

The End

Onward, gently into an eternal midnight of black waters, went the SS Odysseus. Robert sat back and looked up, in a state of utter awe, at the majesty of this show of force. As he looked further up, a horrific truth revealed itself. The mass had no longer merely in front of him and Mystery. It had been above them.

A dead, dreadful silence befell Robert. No more jokes, no more dry wit, and certainly, no more Nihilism. Robert could not even salvage the amount of thought needed to find the scenario incomprehensible. As he awaited the certainty of annihilation, he broke the silence with but one phrase; two thoughts that were, to him, the only things of importance now. Robert Martin turned to his Great Dane Mystery, and said, “I’m sorry. I love you, old girl”.

 

Lost at Sea

The SS Odysseus was not destroyed that night, and neither were Robert or Mystery. The wave and the storm left, as fast as they had come; the swirling chaos had been replaced by a thick and eerie fog. Robert Martin still wore his dark blue jeans, he still had his naturally toned body and tanned skin, and he still had his light green eyes that hold stories of a thousand adventures. Perhaps more importantly to him, Robert still had his good looks, modest facial hair, and his long, slicked back auburn hair.

 Mystery still had her short grey hair, her strikingly luminescent yellow eyes, and, hopefully, she still had her treats resting untouched in the “Captain’s Hatch”, as Robert had called it.

Robert needed a treat as well, he opened the hatch that hid just behind the steering wheel, and searched inside for his cigarettes. To his surprise, he found them, and his matches; not soaked, not soggy, but perfectly intact. He fished out a treat for Mystery, and she took her time with it (as she always did). At that moment, Robert lit his cigarette and finally took a second to look around.

What Robert saw hadn’t been quite nothing, he could feel that. However, the fog that surrounded him was so heavy, that quite literally nothing at all, was all he could observe. The SS Odysseus might very well float to the edge of the Earth (if indeed it had not already) and Robert Martin would be none the wiser.

As he floated around in calm, the questions one would expect came to Robert’s mind. “What is happening? Did anything happen? Is this a dream?” More importantly he questioned the unanswerable, “Why are we here?”.

Robert had thought it best not to allow himself to get lost within his own mind, he was lost enough. Robert figured he would do what he had come to expect of himself. He would make a lighthearted comment to Mystery, then figure a way to higher ground. The time for questioning the world around him, was never the time when the world around him had him at a disadvantage. He turned to his companion, who was still taking her time with the treat. “Mystery” he said, “I think we’re dead”.

Mr. Martin and Mystery were most certainly not dead. The truth is far more complex, as they will come to find out soon enough.

After finishing his jest, Robert took the wheel and began to masquerade as a man who knew what was going on. “Okay, Mystery. So, if the coordinates on the map that I have-and don’t not have- are correct, then the shore to Paradise Island should be just 20 kilometers to the right.”

Just as Robert turned the wheel, the brightest of lights sang to him through the fog. The brightness of the light didn’t blind Robert, or the now-attentive Mystery, in the slightest. In fact, it seemed to be a very warm welcome indeed. Robert took this chance to lighten the mood even further: “See old girl? Told ya. To think you doubted good ol’ Captain Martin”.

 

The Signal

Mr. Martin had quite a lot to think about as he succumbed to the ardent veil of light’s beckoning. Yet, he could seem to think only of what might await him when he reached the fount of it. These thoughts alone were enough to stop him, and indeed any man, dead in their tracks. Yet, onward he pressed.

The imagination is a powerful thing. It has the ability to create things which do not exist. However, at its peak potential, the imagination is perfectly capable of bringing the nonexistent into existence. Additionally, it may also grant one the ability to predict the future, ultimately making imagination a powerful survival tactic. Successful adventurers such as Robert Martin and his dog Mystery, have always known this to be true. For better or for worse, Robert had always had a shockingly vivid, and often times clairvoyant ability, to imagine. It was this knowledge of self that terrified Robert the most; as he sailed towards the light, and onward into the oblivion of swirling fog.  

What might await? Will this helping hand reach out from the fog and unveil the sharpest of claws, ivory teeth, and the scaly skin of a serpent devil? Will he and Mystery arrive to find the light beckoned not to them, but to an enormous Kraken; a creature that would devour him and Mystery both? Would such a creature toy with them, and tail them until they reached the shore (if indeed a shore awaited), only to destroy them? Not only that, but at the precise moment they had finally decided that they had made it out safely? The answer to all of this, of course, would be no. Notwithstanding, a true adventurer cannot, and should not, contain his or her imagination; so, Robert Martin let himself wonder. He allowed himself to wander alone in his own mind for what felt like an eternity, as Mystery dreamed right beside him. He would wander, and he would wander all the way to the light.

 

A Land Abandoned

When Mr. Martin and Mystery reached the provenance of the light, all became clear. Or, rather, all became as clear as was possible. The SS Odysseus had been lead to a quiet harbor, by a simple lighthouse. The fog dared not allow too much to be seen. All Robert had been allowed, was a view of a rather un-astonishing, seemingly New England inspired town; this was complimented by rocky terrain, and an incline to the right of Robert’s point of view. It was at the peak of this incline, where a light house stood, towering above the town like a foreboding castle over a dark kingdom. For all intents and purposes, this was exactly the type of place Robert would imagine under New England’s domain. Yet, there were some stand out issues that he addressed in his mind as he neared the shore.

Firstly, as far as he could recall, he and Mystery had been nowhere near New England when the storm had hit them; they had been rather far from it, in fact.

Secondly, Robert could not seem to remember when the light house had dimmed its beacon, but it indeed had; this began to beg the question of whether or not it had even been on in the first place. “Well, of course it had to have been”, I saw it myself!”, he thought. However, if this were true, it begs the question; how had the, manipulator of the fine establishment known to signal for him? No one of earthly capability could have possibly seen the Odysseus through fog such as this.  “Then again”, he thought further, “the purpose of a lighthouse IS to guide sailors that find themselves unlucky out here”.

As is the habit of conclusions, however, this answer gave way to even more curiosity. “But if this were a situation where this is just a lighthouse being a lighthouse, why did the light only start when I turned towards it?”. At this point, Robert allowed himself to sink no further into his own personal void of frantic paranoia. “Mystery”, Robert said, awaking his companion from a deep slumber, “If there are zombies here, and they eat me, I want you to get yourself a nice Captain’s hat-and plunder the seas without me.” Mystery cocked her head at Robert, then laid back down to rest further.  Robert patted her side with the affection of a true dog owner.

“Think about it.”

Robert came close to the shore, and could see that its sands were out of the realm of ordinary as well. Each individual grain shined as brightly as the light that had lead him here, the lonely beach seemed to be a graveyard of fallen stars.

“Well”, Robert said to himself, “Guess we’re docking the old-fashioned way.”

Robert allowed the ocean to dock the Odysseus among the gleaming sands, and he did so with an experienced ease. Mystery awoke yet again, and took a moment to assess the surroundings, ensuring complete safety for her and her master. Mystery could not, by any stretch, guarantee such safety. But it would do, she supposed.

 

The Longest Walk

The Captain Robert Martin and his Great Dane Mystery walked along the shining beach of the forgotten harbor. From the SS Odysseus, Robert brought with him only the essentials: A few treats for Mystery, his black leather-bound journal, cigarettes and matches, an old-fashioned lantern, and his Smith and Wesson (for good measure). The hand gun rested neatly in his brown-leather holster. He held the unkindled lantern in his left hand (for he was right handed, and previous close encounters with death, had taught him to keep his dominant hand free at all costs), all else that remained was put in his brown-leather messenger bag, which matched his holster quite well, he thought. The bag hung dutifully over his shoulders and rested at is left hip.

Mystery stayed behind Robert, her ears sharp, her nose sharper, daring this strange land to threaten their lost souls once more. It would do so, and soon, but not quite yet.

Robert and Mystery walked across the water-hardened white sands, wondering if they would ever, in fact, reach the forsaken town ahead of them. It was strange, Robert thought, how time seemed to have lost its purpose entirely.

Typically, a long empty walk such as this would have filled Robert with boredom. It was the overwhelming anxiety of the entire predicament, that had saved him this peril. Each step forward led him towards an inevitable answer, one he longed for so, but was not entirely sure needed to be found.

So it was, the tangible Robert and Mystery Martin walked the ambient beach with curiosity and conviction. The abstract Robert Martin, stumbled through his own internal twilight, desperately reaching for an answer in the dark.

The answers Robert sought would come soon enough, but for now, he and Mystery made it past the beach, and searched the cobblestone streets of a village abandoned. As they moved subconsciously towards the lighthouse that had beckoned them, they noticed that this place had not a single solitary sign of life.

They came closer and closer to the hill upon which the lighthouse sat, passing unmarked abode after unmarked abode. Each of them had looked exactly the same; small, built with a dark wood, two windows on either side of an appropriately sized, vibrantly red door, with an ageless copper doorknob to boot. While this in and of itself was rather curious, Robert noticed something stranger still.

As Captain Martin and his faithful companion neared a fork in the road, at the end of the cobblestone street, two routes presented themselves. The fork to the left lead further into the mainland. Clues as to what else may lie beyond this path, had been long shrouded in mystery by the immense, awe inspiring trees that lined the dirt road of this enigmatic path.

The fork to the right, however, left little to the imagination. The cobblestone continued path continued, and lead all the way up a rather steep incline, directly to the lighthouse. Free from the aura of mystery that its brother on the opposite side boasted; the path was featureless, direct, truthful. For the first time in his life, Robert Martin opted for assurance over adventure; or so he thought. As Mr. Martin will come to learn, the truth often times can lead to the grandest of falsities.

Nearer and Nearer

Robert Martin climbed the hill that lead to the lonely lighthouse, Mystery followed closely behind. Robert had been filled with an overwhelming sense of dread as he stepped nearer and nearer, towards this strange obelisk. He hadn’t had the slightest idea of what it was he was walking towards. Only that it was most certainly a lighthouse, and it had most certainly brought him and Mystery to this place intentionally. This did not worry him. It was very fact that he had been summoned here, that terrified him.

Robert could now clearly see the platform on which he, Mystery, and the lighthouse stood. It was as eerie as it was mesmerizing. The cobblestone which lead here had ceased a few paces back, allowing the natural dark green grass and dirt their respective land on this place. Not far ahead of Robert sat a house: dark, small, and deserted. Directly behind the house, a bit to the left, stood the lighthouse, white from the bottom up, with a dark crown that say a top the catwalk, which surrounded the mysterious beacon which had brought the SS Odysseus here.

Robert observed all of this as he continued forward, towards this foreboding end. He vaguely considered whether or not he should know better, then dispelled this when he remembered he really never had.  

Robert pressed on, and he had gotten rather close before realizing how dark it had become. He then wondered how it had been bright in the first place, as he noticed this place seemed devoid of any sort of moon or sun, and no artificial light, save the tower, had presented itself.

Robert reached for the matches and cigarettes in his bag, tossing Mystery one of her treats in the process. He lit himself a cigarette, then lit the lantern he’d been carrying (he was glad to get some use out of it, he was certain Mystery had started to think him foolish for bringing it along at all).  He then left Mystery to enjoy her treat, and walked towards the cliff to the right, overlooking the town.

The unknown had never scared Robert Martin, but it did now. The town, still visible but shrouded in blackness, somehow managed to look even more ominous from this higher ground. It looked more than lifeless, the feeling of looking upon it was akin to visiting a graveyard, one wherein you knew all of the graves to be empty, absent of life, or death.

 The fog that hung heavy in the air, however, seemed to him to have plenty of life in its midst. It had a mind all its own, it only showed Robert what it wanted to show him, and he knew it.

Robert reminded himself that his mission was to secure the safety of Mystery, not himself. So, he faced her. Just then, a look of sheer terror overtook his face once more; for when he turned to face his companion, his companion was not all he saw. From the corner of his eye, he saw at the top of the lighthouse, just below the catwalk, a window. From the corner of his eye, beaming from that window, he saw light. From the corner of his eye, in the vanguard of the light, he saw a man.

The Strange Man’s Grin

The Strange Man looked at Robert Martin from his ivory tower, a nightmarish contortion of a grin, stretched all along his face. Robert knew the man was looking directly at him, his first instinct was to run, to pick up Mystery and throw her over his shoulder and run as fast as he could. Yet, all he could do was stand and stare right back, frozen in terror; frozen, in the gaze of a man reveling in his horror. Robert felt as if he was slowly zooming in on this man (if indeed it were a man at all), and every inch closer he got, the more disturbed he felt. The gaze pulled him in closer, The Strange Man’s grin revealed teeth, sharp looking and inhumanly white.

Closer. The man wore a penguin suit with all white gloves and black dress shoes, his hands held politely behind his back, as he drew Robert Martin further into his domain.

Closer. The Man’s pale, ageless white face shone a ghostly glow. It was as if he had caked on the thickest layer of white makeup. His thin white hair receded so far back, one would be forgiven for thinking it did not exist at all.

Closer. His lips were a bloody red, eyes as white as his hair; Robert Martin had never seen a man like this before, and would never come to see another since.

Suddenly, The Man slowly freed his right hand from his polite posture, and made a playful, pointing gesture towards the path Robert and Mystery had taken to this place. Robert suddenly broke awoke from The Man’s nightmarish trance, only to awaken to another horror.

 

The Two Terrors

Realizing he must have subconsciously produced his revolver during the trance (as it now nestled in his right hand, opposite the now-lifeless antique lantern), Robert turned his attention first towards Mystery. To his surprise, Mystery now stood postured, growling, combat ready. Robert’s half smoked cigarette then fell out of his mouth, as he had directed his attention towards his newest peril.

From the path he had walked mere moments ago, came yet another piece to the ever-growing puzzle he had been so eager to solve. A horde of what appeared to be townsfolk were, ever so slowly, moving in on Robert and Mystery. There had been hundreds, all of them sharing a similar, piercing white glow to The Strange Man in the lighthouse. Their faces were expressionless, dead, lacking any sense of a moral compass. Mystery began to howl, and a part of Robert wished he could do the same.

The way these, for lack of a better term “people” moved, was ghastly. Robert could not bring himself to comprehend it. They didn’t walk, they didn’t run, they didn’t float, they simply were. One moment they were in one spot, the next another; all Robert could bring himself to perceive was their movement. It was something like amnesia, he couldn’t necessarily remember that they were a pace behind where they currently were, but they must have been; by the time Robert they were another pace closer to Robert, he’d already forgotten that they hadn’t been there before. It was all rather confusing, and Robert saw no need in wasting more time trying to figure it out.

Lucky for Robert and Mystery, they knew better than to fall victim to their curiosities here. Robert turned his attention to his companion, “Mystery, come!”.

Mystery listened, gladly. She would happily chew out each and every one of the things’ throats if she had to, but she’d rather not. She returned to her masters’ side and awaited further orders. However, Robert had made a nearly fatal flaw, one that had almost cost both him and his companion their collective existences.

There was simply nowhere to run. Robert knew better than to shoot his way out of the situation, but he made an attempt regardless. He clearly was not dealing with anything of a world he knew, so he made no attempts at conversation. He fired his gun at the nearest of the horde (he had figured there to be about 15 paces between the two of them). He hit his mark, directly in the head, he knew he did. Yet, no result was born of this action.

“Yeah, I figured.” Robert briefly turned his attention back to the lighthouse, the light remained on, but The Strange Man, was nowhere to be seen.

At this particular moment, Robert Martin came to a wretched realization.

He must choose between two nightmares. The cliff was far too steep to survive a fall, the abandoned house would prove inadequate shelter. He may either enter the lighthouse and face that which had brought him here, or try his luck and risk Mystery’s life, and make a mad dash back to the Odysseus. Robert thought for a split second. Then, for the first time in his life, Captain Robert Martin of the SS Odysseus, capable adventurer, loving owner of the darkly beautiful Great Dane, Mystery Martin; dared not try his luck.

 

An Unlikely Visitor

“Mystery, come on! To the lighthouse!” Robert barked this order to his dog like she could understand him. Sometimes, he swore she could understand, better than any person he’d met, anyway.

Robert and Mystery sprinted so fast to the lighthouse that Robert could hardly remember the journey. He bolted through the bright red door, let Mystery in, and slammed it shut after her; all of it in one swift motion. He breathed heavily as he cocked back the hammer of his revolver and turned to face the door.

Dead silence.

Not that there had been any sound from the horde before, but when one narrowly escapes a threat, it is a rather uneasy feeling when there is no auditory response. After a brief moment, Robert chose to trust the silence and thumbed the hammer of his revolver back to its upright position, laying it to rest at his side. It was at that moment that he remembered The Strange Man. Robert cast an apologetic glance at his panting sidekick “Well old girl, it was between the ghost zombies and locking us in a lighthouse with a psychopath. How’d I do?” Mystery cocked her head at him, as she often did when he spoke to her. “Oh don’t give me that look. I didn’t hear any bright ideas out of you.” Then, Mystery’s ears perked, and Robert knew that can only mean that she has noticed something he hasn’t.  Robert knew what it had to be, and the second he turned around to face the tall, winding metal staircase, his fears were justified.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The Strange Man was coming.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Each step was slow, menacingly slow. Robert maintained the pistol at his side, but promptly pulled back the hammer. He beckoned for Mystery to step behind him, she did as she was advised.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Each step became louder and louder as The Strange Man neared, as did Captain Martin’s heartbeat.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Robert’s first instinct was to hide, but that particular option was clearly not in the cards. He considered raising his weapon to face the potential threat, but decided against it for reasons he could not quite understand.

Clink. Clink-

There he was. In all of his hideous macabre.

The Man wore no smile now, he simply stood near the foot of the staircase, one hand on the railing in front of him. He still glowed the otherworldly glow that most everything here does.

After a brief moment, Robert was able recover his knowledge of the English language.

“Hi.”

The Strange Man smiled, quickly. He smiled his nightmare of a smile; and he did it to the desired effect. The suddenness of it and the subtlety at which The Man had produced it, scared Robert badly. He once again felt completely helpless. Then, The Man changed all of that with a simple phrase, “Dinner is getting cold, friends.” His voice was refined, elegant; yet it lacked any sort of accent that Robert could discern, and its pitch was uncomfortably high. The Man seemed giddy, almost. In fact, He sounded giddy in the way that children are when they speak normally, but are overwhelmed with excitement.

The Man started up the stairs, an uncomfortable Robert and a profoundly confused Mystery began to follow. Robert returned the hammer of the pistol to its docile state, and relaxed the hand that held it. Robert kept his distance as he followed, and Mystery stayed closely behind. In a vain attempt to relax them both, he turned to her and said “Dinner’s getting cold. Course it is.”

On that, Mystery and Robert followed The Strange Man, they followed Him all the way to His study, at the top of the tallest lighthouse.

 

The Captive Audience

The Strange Man’s smile never waned, not for a moment. Even as he led the crew of the Odysseus to the top of the lighthouse, to a small room, just below the catwalk that surrounded the very tip of the place. In the center of the room, He’d arranged a small wooden table with a candle in the middle, as well as a bowl of piping hot clam chowder for Robert (He’d arranged a bowl of water and a bowl of chowder for Mystery as well, on the floor, just to Robert’s left). The rest of the room was remarkably spotless, save for two desks on either side of the room, one of which had multiple books and a gas lamp on it; the other held a pot of hot clam chowder on it, as well as a bowl of oyster crackers, and a plate full of bread. Robert was too busy being perplexed by how in fact the chowder had come into fruition, and was still so warm, to notice that the room had no identifiable source of light (save the candle that stood solemnly between him and The Man), yet was still as bright as could be regardless.

Mystery sat politely next to Robert, looking at him for permission to eat the chowder. Robert took a bite of his own, and that was all the permission she needed. Robert turned his attention back to his benevolent captor, who had already started eating his own portion.

“This is, this is good... Thank you.”

The Strange Man looked at him with almost child-like enthusiasm, “You like it!? Good, I was concerned about that. Mystery seems to enjoy it.”

Robert looked at The Man with skepticism, he had since retired his pistol back to its holster, but he had half a mind to bring it back into the equation. He decided against this instinct. Instead, Robert lost his appetite, and decided to get to the bottom of the situation. The Man seemed more concerned with the chowder until Robert spoke.

“Listen, man.” The Man looked at Robert with curiosity. Robert continued: “I have a lot of questions.”

The Man looked up from his chowder briefly to respond: “Well I should hope so!” He let out a ghastly, shrill laugh that lasted all of half of a second. Brief as the laugh was, combined with The Man’s smile, it was enough to stop rip Mystery’s attention away from her food momentarily, and it was enough to send a chill down Robert’s spine. He ignored the obligatory goosebumps and continued.

“Mind if I start?”

The Strange Man didn’t even look up from his food this time: “By all means!”

Robert responded quickly, now completely disinterested in his food.

“Great. So, first and foremost, where am I?”

The Man finished his food, and wiped his pale face with a gilded napkin. “Well, you’re here of course.”

Robert was briefly taken aback. In the moment of silence that followed, Mystery could be heard politely savoring her food. Robert brought himself to respond after taking a moment to process The Man’s reply, realizing that there was no sarcasm in this Man’s voice.

“Right… Where is here, though?”

“Well, it’s not there.”

Robert nodded to himself in acceptance. “Oh, okay. This is gonna be one of those conversations- great. We’ll move on then.” He sighed. “Why did you save me and Mystery?”

“Are you finished?” The Man looked at Robert expectantly. It took Robert a moment to realize that The Man was referring to his chowder. He tried his best to be polite without appearing annoyed: “Oh, yeah, I think so. Sorry, not too hungry.”

The Man didn’t seem offended. “Oh not to worry, my friend! Perhaps you should present the rest to Mystery? She appears positively famished!”

Robert looked at The Man, perplexed.

“Right. Yeah, good plan.” Robert set his plate and bowl down next to his dog and patted her on the head a bit. She shot Robert a thankful look, and began to eat again.

The Man seemed relieved. “Apologies, I prefer all my guests to be happy before the true questioning commences!” He then produced a pipe and a book of matches from the inside of his suit: “Do you mind if I smoke my pipe?”

Robert looked at him with amusement, The Man’s features suddenly appeared softer, less terrifying. Robert had felt more comfortable, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He was not about to complain.

“Only if you don’t mind me and my nasty habit.” Robert produced his cigarettes and matches from his pouch.

The Man spoke with the pipe in his mouth, muffling his speech slightly: “Oh nonsense old friend! It’s hardly a danger to you here!” The Strange Man then produced an ash tray from his suit and slid it perfectly in front of Robert. All things considered, this had hardly stunned him.

“Great, thanks.” Robert lit his cigarette with ease and discarded the match in the ash tray. He set the pack and his matches down on the table in front of him. He’d had a feeling he’d need them soon, though his nerves had been calming more and more each second.

Robert happened to notice that both his pack of cigarettes and book of matches were full at that moment, but questioning something so trivial, seemed simply pointless at that stage.

The Strange Man responded: “Of course. Apologies for the formalities, I am now all yours for questioning. Fire away, my friend.”

Smoke from each party’s various hits and drags floated and lingered around the room as they spoke; they looked like ghosts, hopelessly devoted to maintaining some sort of a presence in the land of consciousness.

Robert began. “Right. So, saving me and Mystery?”

“Oh yes! Well, I didn’t so much save you. I simply guided you. You were taking far too long, you see.”

“Too long?”

“Yes! It was all starting to get rather dull. I simply sped along the process.”

“I’m gonna try my best to go one by one with the questions here- first, what do you mean by taking too long?”

The Strange Man laughed his laugh, but it had been more warming, rather than bone-chilling, at the time. Robert had also noticed that The Man’s features seemed to be much softer than before.

“I mean just that! We had an appointment, and you were late!”

Robert gave The Man a stoic, curious look.

“So, we’re dead then. You’re death, right?”

The Man laughed again.

“Oh no, Captain! Not at all.”

This filled Robert with even more morbid curiosity.

“Then what the hell is going on?! How do you know us? What is this place? Who are you?

The Man smiled, it had felt crooked, gut wrenching, almost. The Man leaned in, towards Robert. He’d been above the candle, but felt closer. The candle exaggerated The Man’s already- exaggerated features: “Now, Mr. Martin. You are asking the right questions.”

He leaned back to his spot, and returned to his warmer state once more.

“Not where, but what. Not why, but how. You catch on fast, good Captain. You see, you have entered a place where you were never intended to be. You’ve been a naughty little rule-breaker. Like me. I know you, because you know me. You are in a place that knows neither life, nor death; and I, I am simply who I am.”

Robert was clearly frustrated. He put out his cigarette and pointed at The Man as he started to speak.

“Alright, listen, I- “

The Man promptly shut him down. He playfully wagged his finger with the hand that wasn’t holding his pipe, and shot Robert his menacing grin once more.

- “Ah ah ah, temper temper, Mr. Martin. I am helping you. Remember?”

Robert sighed and shot a quick glance in Mystery’s direction. She was about halfway through her bowl of chowder, savoring it, as always. Robert looked back at The Man, maintaining his composure this time.

“Right. I apologize…. “

“Oh, not necessary, Mr. Martin.”

Robert lit another cigarette. He spoke again, with purpose.

“How did we get here? Mystery and I, I mean.”

“Well Mr. Martin, your guess is as could as mine. What was the last thing you saw before you arrived, if I may ask?”

“A wave. Not a normal wave though. We were in this storm and… It was like the sea came down on us with all it had.”

The Man nodded, as if it all made perfect sense now.

“Ah yes, of course! Well Mr. Martin, I may not have all the answers you seek. But I do know where you can find them!”

Robert looked at The Man with hope.

“Where?”

“For that answer, good Captain, you will have to return to the sea. I don’t imagine that will be much of a problem for the two of you.”

Robert was, once again, even more confused than he’d been previously.

“Okay, but where in the sea?”

“Oh, just go along your way, you will find it. When you get arrive, that, is when you will have all of the answers you will need.”

Robert pondered this for a brief moment.

“Okay, but what exactly is it that I’ll find?”

The Man looked Robert in the eye. Deeply, and with sincerity.

“Something beyond the understanding of you and I, Mr. Martin.”

The Man freed Robert from his gaze, but let his sentence linger for a moment.

Robert reverted to his typical sarcastic demeanor: “Great. More unimaginable horror. How exactly do you suppose I get back to my boat, what with those things out there?”

The Man retired his pipe, setting it down on the table in front of him. With this motion, Robert realized he hadn’t smoked his cigarette since he lit it; it now sat motionless in his hand, an ashy statue of what it had once been. Robert carefully placed it in the ash tray provided for him, watching it crumble into almost nothing as The Man spoke.

“Oh them? They won’t bother you, not as long as they don’t catch you, that is.”

Robert pocketed his cigarettes and matches as he responded with exasperation: “I see, and if they do catch me?”

Robert slid the ash tray back across the table, and The Man simply returned it to the inside of his suit, ashes and all.

“Well Mr. Martin, to be quite honest with you- I never stopped them to ask. From what I have seen, those who do, simply join them. I do know that they do not come to this place often. They must sense something special with your presence. Quite the honor, Captain.”

The Man stood up, Robert followed suit. Mystery had finished her food, and Robert was not the least bit surprised to see that her food and water bowls had vanished; along with the steaming hot pot of chowder itself. The Man stood at the staircase, motioning politely with his white gloved hand, towards the downward spiral.

“I trust the two of you will see yourselves out?”

Robert called Mystery and they started towards him, though they did not want to. The Man seemed utterly sinister once more.

“Yeah, not a problem. How do you suppose we get back though? Bullets don’t work on them. I mean, unless my aim isn’t as good as I think, which is just out of the question.”

The Man looked at Robert like he was nothing but a small child, and cackled with a menace that suggested he was apt to take full advantage of this ignorance. His cackling ceased after a long moment, and The Man’s face returned to its favorite masquerade: a ghoulish grin.

“Well, Mr. Martin, I would suggest you run.”

 

From Whence It Came

And so, Robert Martin and Mystery did run.

The duo made their way down the stairs, and bolted from the lighthouse. They made it down the staircase and bolted out of the same red door they came through, and did so with no hesitation Survival instinct had kicked in.

When they found themselves outside, away from the “sanctity” of the lighthouse, they had been completely surrounded by the phantom mass that had chased them in. the entire land was now infected with their menacing presence.

With sheer adrenaline in their bodies, and unprecedented will in their minds, Robert and Mystery ran directly towards their menace. Mystery lead Robert with confidence, as if she understood the movements of these beings better than Robert himself.

As Robert and Mystery made their escape with all that they had, Robert was certain that they had been doomed to join this parade of the damned. This was to be their end, Robert had truly believed it so. “Well”, he thought, “at least we have each other”.

Then, Robert and Mystery were suddenly past the old wooden bridge that had brought them there.

They travelled down the hill that had brought them there, allowing the momentum to pull them further into throng of those who were not there.

They sprinted through the living town of the dead. Mystery guided them, winding and dodging with complete and utter conviction.

They made their way across the forgotten beach of angelic sand, the thoughtless souls emerging quickly with complete indifference.

Then, they reached their final destination.

Robert and Mystery reached the SS Odysseus, and had hardly had time to realize that it was not in the state that they had left it in, they were far too busy escaping that dreaded place. It was not until Robert tossed Mystery up on to the ship, and began to climb the hull himself, that he realized that it had been completely turned around, facing the abyss.

Robert could muster no other response than to laugh to himself.

He laughed until he climbed back to the cockpit.

He laughed as the waves carried him back to the abyss.

He laughed, as he turned around to see the unholy mass crowd the beach, just staring, as if now they were absent of meaning.

And all the while, from his lonely lighthouse, The Strange Man laughed with him.

 

Domain

The SS Odysseus glided across the wave-less, windless seas with effortlessness, acrimoniously cutting its way through an endless fog. While its operator seemed to have no destination in mind, The SS Odysseus appeared to know exactly where it was going, and indeed it did.

Mystery sat patiently at Robert’s side, clearly calmer than Robert. Roberts’ feelings at that moment, when he sailed in the darkness of the unknown, towards something darker still, could best be described as equal parts terrified and excited. All of this, after all, had been what Robert and Mystery lived for. Adventure, fear thrilled these two. While this entire scenario they had unwittingly entered had been undeniably different than a simple journey or terror, it was beginning to feel like the epitome of adventure to Robert. If Mystery had ever been able to speak, she would have verbally agreed with her owner.

Just as these thoughts began to enter Robert’s wandering mind, The Odysseus ceased to move. Robert realized that the fog had retreated to the background. In his experience, this did not lead to good things.

He turned to Mystery, “Well old girl. I’m not sure what we found, but we found it.”

At that moment, Robert heard the deafening roar of the ocean. A roar he had only heard in the past, when a waterfall had been present. This worried Robert. There was no waterfall present.

“That can’t be good. I swear if it’s another tidal wave- “

It was not. What Robert Martin beheld at this moment, had been something much more than a simple wave.

To Robert Martin’s grand horror, the sea in front of him parted completely.

It seemed as if the entire world stood in front of him, and was being consumed whole, unable to free itself from the sheer pull of the abyss. The ocean roared in defiance against itself, the waters plunging themselves deep into their own depths. If the sight can indeed be compared to anything in our realm of imagination, it looked to Robert as if the entire ocean in front of him had split itself in two, threatening to incase him and his ship between two living, breathing walls roaring water, and into a bottomless, endless aquatic darkness.

Mere moments after this occurred, Robert noticed that this had been no empty threat.

The SS Odysseus began to angle downward, slowly, into the clutches of the ocean. The feeling, Robert thought briefly, was akin to the buildup of a rollercoaster, just before the descent into adrenaline fueled mayhem.

The slow anticipation, followed by the knowledge that he was about to be taken on a ride like no other, was not what made Robert Martin scream in terror; it was not what made Mystery cower behind him in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable. For them, it was the true, deep seated feelings that this situation evoked. For Robert Martin and Mystery, it was the sheer despair that caused them to scream and cower, respectively.

In the briefest of moments, when demise is imminent, one is subjected to the constant truth, that we all are truly powerless. At the very moment of this parting of the sea, Robert and Mystery were forced to face a truth that most all avoid. The truth, that we are all at the mercy of the world we inhabit. For the second time in a very short period of time, Robert was faced with the idea of intense despair. There was truly nothing he could do. He, Mystery, the SS Odysseus; they were all at the complete mercy of a merciless universe. They had always been. Control, purpose, all of it had been an illusion from the start. Robert and Mystery knew that now. They knew this as they plunged headlong to an unimaginable fate. They knew this as they screamed all the way down…

And down…

And down…

… Or so they had thought.

                                     The Presence

The Universe in and of itself, has few constants. There are very few truths that ring true throughout all of space and time. The Universe has a tendency to stick strongly to its own creed. However, there are times where it becomes rather bored of its own rigidity. So was the case with the SS Odysseus and its crew on that fateful night, that night when the world folded in on itself.

When the Odysseus arrived at its ultimate destination, its fall proved rather anti-climactic. The ship sat at the bottom of the world, suspended in nothing but ocean. The area was serene, quiet, like nothing else existed. Here though, the opposite is true. This place, is where everything exists; it is the center of it all. This is the place in which Robert and Mystery found themselves.

As these two sat at the helm of the Odysseus, and as they did, they felt The Presence instantaneously. The fear and despair they had felt as they fell, had fleeted from their minds and bodies, as quickly as it had come. Now, they felt peace, euphoria, happiness, all of it eternal.

Robert looked around, and saw something truly wondrous. He saw planes, boats, people, swimming around him. They appeared to be flying, but of course they were not, they were floating. It was water. All of it, water. They were both alone, and not alone. The others around them appeared oblivious to one another’s existence, and indeed they were.

It was then, that The Presence chose to communicate openly with Robert.

Without conscience thought, Robert pulled his black-leather journal out of his brown-leather bag. The water did not appear to affect his black fine point pen, nor the paper of his journal. Robert flipped immediately to the first blank page, and began to without pause. The Presence began the conversation.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Welcome.”

“Where are we?”

“Everywhere.”

“You people aren’t big on straight answers, are you?”

“?”

“Never mind. Why are we here?”

“You came here.”

“Right. I asked this before, but I’m not sure the last guy was so reliable. Are Mystery and I dead?”

“?”

“Are we dead?”

“?”

“Dead?”

“?”

“Never mind.”

“Alright.”

“Who are you?”

“You cannot understand.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot understand.”

“Can I see you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot understand.”

“Try me.”

At that moment, Robert looked up. He looked up only for a brief second, and what he saw would come to haunt him for the remainder of his existence. What he saw would come to defy any understanding he thought he had. He saw a creature, but not a creature as you and I would understand it. It has no shoulders, eyes, appendages, anything of the sort. The creature is of impossible size, a matter-less being made of shapes we’ve never developed, with angles we can never see. Robert saw something his creator had never intended him to see. If he’d looked a second longer, his soul would have lost its sanity. It would be doomed to wander the shores of that abandoned village, under the watchful gaze of The Strange Man in his lonely lighthouse, for the rest of eternity. If Robert had had time to check on Mystery, he would have noticed that she had buried her head between his feet a while ago, and wisely so. The Presence responded instantly after its brief physical cameo.

“You cannot understand.”

“Jesus what was that?”

“Jesus?”

“Don’t mind it. So, what now?”

“?”

“Where do I go?”

“You are free.”

“Free? I don’t necessarily feel free.”

“You are free.”

“What if I want to go back?”

“When you leave, you cannot go back.”

“I see. Are you a God?”

“God?”

“Did you create this?”

“No.”

“How was this place made?”

“It only was.”

“Right. Of course it was. Am I even actually here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the wave, the one that brought me here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, come on. Tell me. What happened? Why did that happen?”

“Accident.”

“Your accident?”

“No. The accident has no cause.”

“So, this is it. Am I free to leave?”

“No.”

“I’m here forever?”

“No.”

“Well what the hell, what do I do?”

“You are free.”

“What about all these people around me? Are they free too?”

“Yes.”

Robert paused in his writing for a moment. He knew he had an infinity of questions to ask, but he did not know if they could be answered by anyone but himself. He pondered this briefly, and then realized, he knew they couldn’t. He returned to his notebook.

“I don’t know if I have any more questions for you. I don’t suppose have any for me?”

“No.”

“Well, I guess we’re done here then. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Then, just like that, The Presence was gone. Robert looked at Mystery, without the slightest clue of what to do or where to go. He discarded his journal back to the hatch, and Mystery wagged her tail. Robert knew why.

What The Presence had told him, had been true. They were free. Who knew what wonders waited ahead of them? All of their lives, trivial things, eating food, sleeping, drinking… All of it seemed to matter to next to naught. The two of them felt only good, nothing bad. Evil was no longer a necessity, or even a concept in this place. Darkness had no meaning. Fear, balance, evil, all of them substance-less concepts of an old world. A world that Robert Martin and Mystery had left far, far behind.

So, the SS Odysseus moved once more. Robert Martin grabbed the wheel, patted Mystery on the head, and off they went. Both of them were as happy as they had ever been.

They knew not what awaited them, and that was the greatest joy of all.

The End