![]() Alone.A Story by G. Donovan Vercler![]() 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 © 2017 G. Donovan Vercler |
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