《Forgetful》


 Chapter 1 - A ride to town

    His head hurt like it was splitting apart. He winced at the sharp light coming from the outside. A whistling sound pierced his ears. He brought a hand to his head and tried to make sense of what was happening.


    He was sitting on a car seat, seatbelt fastened. There was a humming sound filling his ears. The motor, he realized a moment later.


    The lights were on and their light reflecting off the snow tortured his eyes. It also showed, in stark contrast, the brown tree trunk that had fallen over the windshield.


    That was it then. He suffered a car accident.


    He touched his forehead and checked his fingers for blood. There was no blood; still, his head hurt terribly. He shivered. The car¡¯s front glass was broken and the draft was enough to chill his bones, despite the thick coat he had on.


    ¡°Where are my gloves?¡± He searched for them, and found out they were in his hands all along. His vision got fuzzy. He pushed up his glasses, only then realizing he wore glasses.


    He realized, with some confusion, that he was not acting normal. He couldn¡¯t think clearly. He wore glasses. The thought struck him with such suddenness, that he almost reeled away at the realization he hadn¡¯t known that, hadn¡¯t remembered that. He realized right after that he had no idea what his name was, what he was doing in the car or where he was going.


    He breathed hard, panicking, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the snow outside creeping up from his leg, through his spine and to his arms. A ghostly pain hurt his fingers.


    The car moved.


    The tree crashed on the car, twisting the ceiling and shattering the windshield.


    He lifted his hands to try and protect his face from the flying glass. With a last wail, the motor failed. The tree dug in a little more, and the lights went out.


    The total darkness frightened him, but also calmed him. For now, the tree seemed stuck.


    He released the seat belt, and looked outside the window. It was too dark to see much, but he saw a road. He tried to get the door open, but it was stuck. He took a deep breath and clenched his fingers, feeling that they were moving as intended, not broken, not hurting, and pulled back his fist to punch the window. He stopped, realizing he was being stupid. He would have laughed at himself if he weren¡¯t in a terrible situation.


    He searched his car for something to break the window with. Unexpectedly, he felt something hard against his hip. He pulled it out.


    It was a pistol.


    He wondered why he carried a gun, but it was not the time for questions. He broke the glass with the handle of the gun, and smashed all the pieces carefully, before squeezing himself through the hole.


    He fell on top of a pile of snow, feeling relieved.


    His relief was short lived. A lump of snow lay to his left, with a distinct shape as if covering a large form underneath.


    It was too close to his car for it to be there by coincidence. Was this related to the accident he suffered?


    At first, he thought it was an animal, but on closer inspection the lump had a vaguely human shape. Yet, the sight did not bring the expected horror, but an almost overwhelming detachment. He carefully brushed the snow aside, filled with morbid curiosity.


    He sucked a deep breath.


    It was not, after all, a human corpse; yet it certainly was no animal. It lay curled on its side. A long, leathery wing spurted out of the thing¡¯s back at the end of which was a rigid, malformed hand. The head was bald and wrinkled with sharp ears and long canine teeth.


    For a while, he merely stood there, curious. Eventually, he crouched beside the creature and cautiously¡ªeven though it was surely dead¡ªobserved it.


    It was thin, only skin and bones, with a shape that was a mix of man and bat in the worst possible way. It was bent and misshapen, with a skull that was too long, hunched shoulders and a spine that was too bent. A large hole had been bored through its back, clearly the cause of its death, but no blood came out of the wound. Aside from that, a small knife, beautiful even at a glance was stuck in its flesh.


    Without thinking, he pulled it out.


    The creature moved.


    He reeled away from it, heart beating fast, falling on his butt from the scare.


    It shrieked and gasped, then looked at him and gave a piercing scream, limbs flailing madly. Its head swerved violently from side to side as it braced against the ground.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.It was standing, he realized with maddening horror, frozen in place by fear. He could not look away as the thing stretched its neck as if trying to break it and let out such horrid sounds that they seemed to come from his nightmares.


    It was halfway up, when it gasped and its breathing failed. Then it fell, soundlessly, upon the snow. It twitched one last time, then nothing more.


    He remained still, not quite ready to believe it was dead. He swallowed. His heart hammered against his chest.


    The thing continued to lay there, unmoving.


    Finally, he stood, feeling the cold seeping into his bones. He approached the thing, and gave it a light kick.


    There was no reaction.


    Whatever that was, it was dead. He was not.


    The road was not so distant. Dark though it may be, he could see it just fine. Looking to the left or right from it, however, revealed not a single thing. It was an empty road, circling a hill. Considering the terrain, he was quite fortunate that his car did not fall down further; it could have easily spelled his death.


    He wondered if he should wait for a car to pass. It seemed a fine idea, but when he looked back at his car, and at what lay beside it, he decided to walk instead. His car had been heading left. He decided that would be a good direction to walk toward.


    The walk was long and cold. But after a while the road sloped downward; that made him rather hopeful, though he had no idea why.


    He heard a car behind him. He looked back, and surely enough a car was passing, its lights showing the road ahead. He raised a hand in request. Unexpectedly, the car stopped.


    From beyond the lowered glass, a man in his mid-twenties with a prim beard and a fat nose smiled. ¡°Hello there. We saw an accident just a while ago. Was that you?¡±


    At first, he said nothing. Had they seen the thing lying beside his car? And if they did, was it not the sort of thing one would be curious about?


    The stranger did not seen apprehensive, so he might not have had a good look at the site of the accident. Or maybe it was not a sight strange to see, and he only thought that because he had no memory. It was difficult to dwell on it. ¡°Pretty cold tonight,¡± the strange continued as the silence stretched. ¡°Not a good night to be out walking on an empty road.¡±


    The stranger seemed far too friendly, and somewhat sketchy, with strangely threatening words, despite their apparent affability.


    ¡°Are you heading to town?¡± he asked with a smile.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said the stranger, sparing a brief glance at the driver. ¡°We can take him right Bill?¡± He turned back, smiling. ¡°Come on in.¡±


    The glass rose. A pushy stranger. Nevertheless, he entered the car, because it truly was too hazardous to be outside, and who knew what could be out there?


    He sat alone, on the backseat.


    It was warm inside. He felt it immediately on his fingers. It was only once warm that he realized how cold he had been.


    ¡°I am Eric,¡± the stranger said, offering a hand and a smile. He shook Eric¡¯s hand, only then realizing he should be saying his name, and then he realized he did not know what it was.


    Eric pointed his chin at the driver, oblivious to his confusion. ¡°This is Bill.¡±


    Bill grunted.


    Eric shrugged with an easy smile. ¡°Bill is not very talkative.¡±


    Bill half-turned in Eric¡¯s direction, looked at him for a lengthy second, and, saying nothing, turned back toward the road and continued to drive.


    ¡°We¡¯ve never been to Lamplight,¡± Eric continued. ¡°Small place, see. Nothing much going on for the two of us. Oh, we¡¯re woodsmen! We work with wood.¡± Eric smiled at that, as if it were some private joke. ¡°We¡¯ve come for some land that some old guy left behind after dying and that we might use for business. A lot of land, family lands, you know, always troublesome¡­¡± Unlike his companion, Eric was very talkative; the monologue went on and on while Bill provided silent looks and grunts.


    He felt light-headed, tired. Still, Eric continued to talk.


    ¡°¡­the deer ate until it died. Happens a lot, actually. What a dumb deer right?¡± Eric shook his head derisively, and laughed. ¡°Man, these animals just don¡¯t know when to stop. By the way, I never asked, if you hurt yourself in the accident. You seen kind of down.¡±


    ¡°I am fine.¡±


    ¡°Feeling sleepy are ya? Feel free to nap back there. When we arrive in Lamplight, I¡¯ll wake you up. God knows, it¡¯s awful to be stranded on the road. Happened to me once, you know...¡±


    He felt tired. But sleep? No, he could not bring himself to sleep yet. He threw his head back, and closed his eyes. At length, he opened them. No, he could not sleep.


    Eventually, Eric stopped talking.


    Eric looked back from time to time, but said nothing, and seemed to think he had fallen asleep. Bill kept driving.


    A languid, continuous, morose humming was coming from somewhere. It was almost like music. It felt peaceful, but out of reach. It faded, and eventually stopped.


    Did he sleep? He felt like he had. But more importantly, he felt the car was slowing. He looked outside the window, but there were no lights, only the road, the mountain and the trees.


    Suddenly a cold, unpleasant feeling assaulted him. It felt doubly strange in the warmth of the car. He did not speak, but held a hand above his gun.


    The car stopped and Eric left, wordlessly. He walked around it, and stopped before the rear door. After a considerable pause, the door opened, slowly, gently, silently.


    Their eyes met. Neither said anything for the few seconds their gazes crossed. Eric smiled a guilty, but nasty smile. The smile of a child caught doing something naughty. ¡°We¡¯re almost into town.¡± Eric, for a moment, looked in the distance, then turned back toward him. ¡°I¡¯d have preferred to do this with while you were sleeping.¡± Bill turned around, eyes narrowed dangerously, saying nothing. ¡°But, eh, what to do, right?¡±


    Eric raised a gun in his direction. A small pistol that almost didn¡¯t fit in his hand. Still, a bullet was a bullet. ¡°Listen here,¡± Eric said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna take off your clothes, and then¡ª"


    A mind-numbing shriek rang out, silencing Eric. It was an animal sound. It was like the cry of a bat, but louder.


    For a moment, Eric stood still, shocked; then with a shaking hand, wiped his nose of the blood that was dripping from it. The next moment, Eric looked down as the sound of a bullet rang out. His face was rather comical, considering the bullet had pierced him through the chest.


    Eric fell backwards over the asphalt.


    He pointed the gun in Bill¡¯s direction next. Bill raised his hands.


    ¡°Get out of the car!¡± he shouted. Bill didn¡¯t move until he said it again, gesturing the pistol in a threatening manner.


    He rushed Bill out, then jumped out himself. ¡°Turn around,¡± he told Bill.


    Bill turned.


    Adam threw him on the ground by the collar, and then entered the front seat. He turned the key and drove away as fast as he could.


    In the distance, he heard the shriek once more. Then he heard another scream, not like a bat¡¯s, not unlike a man¡¯s.


    He drove on.


    Eric had not lied. There was a town just ahead. So near, it seemed a joke.


    Lamplight, it was written on the sign standing above the road.


    Beyond it were lights. Many comforting lights.

 Chapter 2- Ticket to jail

    The nighttime landscape that passed him by felt strange and foreign, though nothing was visibly out of place. Clean streets greeted him, lighted by posts at convenient intervals. Passersby were uncommon, but not rare.


    He stopped the car, and propped his forehead against the wheel, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath. He was shaking.


    He just killed two people.


    He shook his head. No, he killed one. The other was clearly the victim of a giant bat. He would not claim that murder. He felt sick. He felt lost. He felt like he had no choice. The dead man pointed a gun at him and clearly had something bad planned for him. It was self-defense!


    He gripped his wrist and pressed until the shaking subsided. He calmed down.


    He had no idea where he should go, he realized with an annoying migraine. A hospital maybe, which raised another question, where was the hospital? Maybe he should ask for help.


    Before him, he saw the lights of a bar. Why not? He thought and parked the car nearby, opting to abandon it in an inconspicuous and out of way place. Its owners were dead, after all.


    The bar had a moderate amount of customers. A group of four was making a row at the corner; a few others were drinking rather sadly among the tables. Behind the counter, a bald, pudgy guy was staring at the entrance expectantly. A woman, no, a girl, possibly a teen, was serving the customers. Was that legal?


    He approached the counter. The guy behind looked up at him without interest. ¡°Back again, eh?¡± he said.


    That was surprising. Had he been in here recently? Was he leaving town?


    ¡°What do you want?¡± the guy behind the counter asked, not unfriendly.


    ¡°I came here before?¡±


    The guy snorted. ¡°Maybe you did, maybe you didn¡¯t. Lots of out-of-towners pass by here; I haven¡¯t got to remember all of you, do I? Grab a drink or leave, stranger.¡±


    Undaunted by the rudeness, he gave a brief look at the collection of drinks behind the guy. ¡°Cuba libre,¡± he said as the name jumped to the forefront of his mind.


    The barman mixed his drink in seconds, not even bothering to check what bottles he used.


    He nursed his cup at the counter, drank in sips, wondering what he would do next. The answer was, ask for another cuba libre, and another one after that until he had to go to the toilet.


    He came back, and asked, of course, for another cuba libre. It was the only drink name he could remember. It was possible, of course, that it had always been the only one he knew.


    A youngster sat beside him at the counter. A man, just short of a boy. Probably not even twenty with stylized hair and a nose-ring. He asked for vodka and cried at his cup as he drank.


    He immediately hated the young man.


    ¡°What¡¯s the worst thing a man can lose?¡± the young man asked to no one.


    ¡°Himself,¡± he answered, feeling that he was somewhat tipsy.


    The young man looked at him and harrumphed. ¡°There are plenty of things more important than me. Now if I can just drink enough to forget everything.¡±


    ¡°Forgetting is terrible, trust me. Don¡¯t do it.¡±


    ¡°My goodness, it¡¯s true what they say, there really are moral dispensers in bars ready to turn you the right way. But trust, well, trust is hard to earn, man, I can¡¯t just give it to you like that.¡±


    As it turned out, the young man was a friendly drunk, and the two lost themselves talking to each other through the night as patrons arrived and left. The barman cleaned cups and refilled their drinks.


    It was so very strange to be there talking to a young man he barely knew hours after crashing his car and forgetting everything.


    ¡ì


    He opened his eyes to a grey ceiling. To his right, he saw iron bars.


    He felt a terrible headache. Groggily, he sat up, then looked to his left and saw a hole in the wall, sealed by more iron bars. He looked at himself, feeling disgusted at the dried puke on his shirt. Every muscle hurt.


    ¡°Ah, you woke up.¡± The voice belonged to the young man, and accompanying it was the sound of a page turning.


    He realized he stood inside a cell. Bewildered, he looked around.


    ¡°Is it your first time?¡± asked the young man, smiling maliciously. He leaned against a wall, wearing a light coat above a red t-shirt with a band name; both with puke over them. He was reading a comic book.


    ¡°Where are we?¡±


    The youth looked around in mock confusion. ¡°In jail?¡±


    ¡°Why are we here?¡±


    ¡°Because we drank too much.¡± The young man nodded at his own assertion, sighed, and continued to read hic comics.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.¡°Paul!¡± a new voice shouted.


    He turned at the sound. It was a guard. He came up to the cell, looking displeased at the young man. ¡°How did you get that book in there?¡±


    Paul knitted his eyebrows, seeming genuinely confused. ¡°Kevin gave it to me, to kill time ¡®til I can leave.¡±


    The guard bristled. ¡°Paul, is police a joke to you?¡±


    ¡°Bill, I am just saying what happened,¡± Paul said, bewildered. ¡°What else do you want me to say?¡±


    The guard sighed deeply, seemingly filled with disappointment. Then he turned toward the only other man in the cell. ¡°Mr. Adam we¡¯ve found your crashed car. Your firearm permit was inside. Next time you¡¯re involved in a bar fight make sure it stays in the bar. It¡¯s a good thing you didn¡¯t pull your gun, or we would be having a very different conversation. Be more responsible in the future.¡±


    The guard called him Adam. Was he Adam? If the cop thought so, he probably was.


    The guard then shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t believe Kevin brought you here instead of the hospital. You seem fine, but do a check-up, okay? We called your wife. She¡¯ll be here soon.¡±


    Adam¡¯s face must have been quite the sight, but the guard misinterpreted his confusion. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said, almost like a friend. ¡°She seemed more worried than upset. Well, considering everything, it¡¯s no wonder.¡±


    The guard seemed to think for a second. ¡°Oh, yes, what is this?¡± He pulled out the knife.


    Now that he took a good look at it, it was a beautiful thing, with a sinuous curve and artistic engraving. ¡°It¡¯s an antique,¡± he said, hastily, but quite naturally, after looking at it. ¡°An ornamental item. It¡¯s not a weapon.¡± It was probably not a lie.


    ¡°And from where did you take it?¡±


    Again, the guard interpreted Adam¡¯s silence by himself. He smirked, knowingly, and shook his head derisively. ¡°You can¡¯t go around taking Good¡¯s belongings before the inheritance is properly divided. And don¡¯t go around drinking and driving in my town. Well, I¡¯ve heard the story from your wife. I¡¯ve lost my father too, so I can¡¯t very well say I don¡¯t understand your feelings, so, well, it might be a little derelict but I won¡¯t pursue things further this time. No one got hurt but you after all, and Kevin did neglect to bring you to the hospital. But watch yourself ¡®round here, we clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± he answered, seriously.


    The guard fixed him with a look, grunted, and walked away.


    ¡°Jeremy is a weird one,¡± Paul said once the guard was out of sight. All this time, he hadn¡¯t stopped reading the comic book. ¡°He acts like a tough cop, but truth is he doesn¡¯t really care much what people do around here. Well, unless someone dies. He spent a long time investigating Good¡¯s death, seemed sure it was a case, but everyone knew it was really sickness. Overall, he¡¯s pretty laid back.¡±


    ¡°You come here often, then?¡±


    The young man smiled sheepishly. ¡°Only recently, only recently. I¡¯ve been drinking too much. But this was the last, I swear! Buying a fight with two lumberjacks was a little too much for me.¡±


    ¡°Two lumberjacks?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you started swearing at them for no reason, don¡¯t you remember?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember a single thing at all.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°It was pretty funny. You asked if their boss asked them to take their clothes off very often. No, without alcohol, it doesn¡¯t sound that funny. But I did laugh very hard and they got pissed.¡± He turned the page and laughed at something in it. His eyes were sparkling with merriment. At length he gazed at Adam with an upward gaze and cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Want to read?¡± He offered the comic.


    ¡°A comic?¡±


    ¡°They had books before,¡± Paul said, defensively. ¡°But they burned down in the fire.¡±


    ¡°The fire?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the fire. Took half the buildings in the street. It began in an abandoned house near the drugstore. They ought to have teared the place down long ago. So wanna read?¡±


    Adam looked at the professed book. It was spider-man. ¡°I started the fight?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you did,¡± Paul answered.


    ¡°And you helped me?¡±


    ¡°We were drinking together.¡± Paul shrugged. ¡°And I did think it was pretty funny when I was drunk.¡±


    Adam looked at the comic, still being held toward him. ¡°I think this will be the first comic I¡¯ll ever read.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on now,¡± Paul said. ¡°You¡¯re what, twenty-six, seven? There¡¯s no way you didn¡¯t read a comic when you were a kid.¡±


    ¡°Even if this is not the first I read, it would still be the first I read.¡± Adam accepted the book.


    ¡°You will like it,¡± Paul declared, almost too friendly for someone he barely knew. ¡°Spider-man, the hero who always tries to be a better person.¡±


    ¡°Is he that kind of hero?¡± Adam tried to remember anything about spider-man. Nothing came to mind.


    ¡°Read and find out.¡±


    ¡ì


    Paul asked the cop to buy them food, promising he would pay him back. Surprisingly, the cop agreed.


    He and Paul ate chicken wings in the watch-house, while Paul told the sad story that led him to the bottle. In short, his girlfriend cheated on him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good reason to get drunk.¡±


    ¡°Can you think of a better reason to get drunk?¡± Paul scoffed. ¡°I mean, I loved her, you know. I trusted her, depended on her. I gave my heart to her and she tore it open. You know, the people we love, who we put our trust on are those who can hurt us the most! They can take advantage of us like no one else. We give them this power anyway, hoping they won¡¯t use it. When they do, it¡¯s soul-crushing. Have you ever been betrayed like this?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s like having a knife piercing your back!¡±


    After talking a little more with Paul, he was called away.


    His bail was paid. When had he even agreed to bail? He was told his wife paid for it and awaited him.


    He felt no small amount of trepidation at the thought of seeing her. He would need to tell her he lost his memory, and hopefully have her help him navigate through daily life. Hopefully she was not a backstabber like Paul¡¯s girlfriend. She stood as soon as he entered the room, which he was thankful for, otherwise he wouldn¡¯t be sure she was her.


    After a brief study, Adam wondered if he was rich or just very good-looking. He badly wished he had seen himself in the mirror to know for sure.


    She had a lovely face, sharp, but also slightly round, childish, like a young cat. She had a small nose; long, light-brown hair fell around her waist; her blue eyes looked at him with worry. She wore a brown cardigan and jeans, slightly dirty with mud at the knees.


    ¡°Adam.¡± She hurried to his side. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    He was not sure what to say, so he said nothing.


    Strangely, she seemed to come to her own conclusions on his silence. They took his things, including his wallet that he hadn¡¯t realized was left behind in the crashed car.


    ¡°We need to take you to the hospital,¡± she said when they were inside the car.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Adam said, reading his identity. His name was Adam Good. What a good name. He liked it. More importantly, it felt like the kind of name he had heard many times before.


    ¡°Pence came to the house asking for you last night. He shouldn¡¯t have done that,¡± she continued, slightly angry, oblivious to his confusion. ¡°What were you thinking, disappearing like that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I was thinking.¡±


    She gave him a dirty look, unamused.


    He worried for her reaction when discovering he lost his memory. He pondered how best to tell her he had no idea who she was. But her next words gave him pause.


    ¡°If we make more mistakes we could die. It¡¯s not the time for carelessness.¡±


    It was a good thing that she kept her eyes on the road because Adam was sure the face he had on would startle her.


    ¡°I know you are uncertain about what we are doing, Adam. But we can¡¯t back away now. Go talk to Pence. I¡¯ve told him we¡¯re meeting at the hospital.¡±


    Adam just sat there, silent, while she drove down the road.

 Chapter 3 - Criminal question

    The doctor, an older woman with grayish hair, ordered a series of tests.


    While the x-ray was being performed, Adam contemplated his loss of memory. It seemed an opportune time to tell he had lost it. His wife, who he just realized he didn¡¯t even know the name of, however, mentioned plans that could kill them. What would she do if she realized he had no idea what their plans were?


    Pence, this man, who he couldn¡¯t recall even faintly, appeared to have some urgent business with him. So urgent he was willing to meet him in the hospital. That same man had come to his house on the night of the accident. Were the two events connected?


    The doctor criticized the cops for their mishandling of someone in need of medical care. She knew Jeremy personally, and was even harsher with him for it. They marked a day for him to come back.


    ¡°Do you have any other issues?¡± she asked, signing a paper, clearly expecting a ¡®no.¡¯


    His silence prompted her to look up, wonderingly, not particularly worried.


    ¡°No,¡± Adam assured her.


    She raised an eyebrow, but did not ask again. She finished the paper, gave it to him, and bade him farewell.


    Outside, his wife stood hastily from a bench as soon as he appeared. ¡°Is everything fine?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Adam answered.


    She let out a soft breath. Her face slackened with relief and a small smile crept up her lips, but did not spread far. ¡°Well, it would be strange if there was anything wrong, but I guess I just am not used to it. Thank you for letting me take you here.¡± As a matter of course she took his hand, and led half-led him to the cafeteria.


    Adam observed her profile as they walked down the corridor, curious about her. She was in her early twenties, so they couldn¡¯t be married for long. She looked the intelligent sort, and she was really beautiful.


    Maybe she had not been literal when she said they could die. It was not like he understood the matter anyway, and she seemed to like him. Being open about his amnesia could save a lot of trouble, especially considering how they were about to meet someone else. These thoughts ceased from his head when he arrived at the cafeteria. It was a spacious hall. Patients and staff meandered in and out. Some people ate hastily as if chased by something, others ate with such slowness it seemed deliberate.


    His wife headed with surety toward a small table where only one man sat. He was a portly man, bald, with large hands. At their approach, he stopped eating a salad, squinted his eyes and smiled widely. He opened his arms for a hug like some frivolous politician. ¡°Mary!¡± he almost bellowed, standing. ¡°You get more beautiful every time we meet.¡± He laughed outwardly, without emotion.


    Adam¡¯s wife and he hugged, and then they sat down. ¡°You flatter me, Mr. Pence,¡± she said, sweetly.


    ¡°Please, no Mr. Pence. Call me Rick.¡± The man sat back down, and offered Adam a handshake.


    Adam took it, and next he knew, he was pulled into an embrace and slapped on the back. ¡°Adam, Adam, you did it again.¡± He laughed. ¡°You had me going disappearing like that, but I knew I could count on you. I knew you would take care of our problems. You haven¡¯t disappointed me yet!¡± He was clearly very happy considering how he continually hit Adam¡¯s back.


    ¡°I am glad I haven¡¯t,¡± Adam said because he had no idea what else to say. He looked toward his wife. She was still smiling, but she was confused too. She had no idea what he was talking about.


    ¡°And well you should be. I fill your pockets!¡±


    So this man is my boss, Adan thought. He had the air of someone in command, but what job did Adam do for him?Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The man rubbed his chin. ¡°Adam, Adam,¡± he continued. ¡°What would I do without you? Have slightly less money, I guess.¡± Pence laughed, heartily.


    Mary laughed at what Adam thought was a rather unfunny joke. A second later, he laughed too, insincerely as it might be. ¡°Always happy to help, Mr. Pence.¡±


    ¡°Now that these two are taken care of, we can continue our business in peace.¡±


    ¡°Darling,¡± Mary called, looking somewhat distraught. ¡°Has something happened that you didn¡¯t tell me?¡±


    Mr. Pence looked between the two in surprise. ¡°What, Adam, you haven¡¯t told her about last night yet?¡±


    Adam shook. He clenched his fists, hoping they didn¡¯t notice his nervousness. ¡°Would you believe I forgot?¡±


    Mary knitted her brows, clearly upset, but then promptly put on a confused expression.


    Mr. Pence just laughed all the more. ¡°Mary, Adam has...already taken care of our problems.¡± Pence made a show of looking around for nearby listeners. He drew near, as though to tell a secret. ¡°The two owners of the Roland Company, have, sadly, passed away.¡±


    She turned around at these words, looking mutely at Adam. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.


    As far as things seemed, the words Mary said, about them dying, might not have been a hyperbole after all.


    ¡°Well, their corpses haven¡¯t been found yet, if they ever will be. But last night Adam left their car parked near the bar where all the confusion happened. My men found it and inside were all the documents regarding the forested lands. What did you do with their bodies Adam?¡±


    ¡°To be honest,¡± Adam said. ¡°I am not at all sure.¡±


    Pence¡¯s smile did not reach his lips. ¡°Always with your secrets, Adam. Very well, I admit that I like you; that¡¯s why I never bother to ask for details. Who doesn¡¯t have one or two things they¡¯d rather hide, after all? And, well, the bodies never turn up when you¡¯re involved. Just make sure they never do, for all of our sakes, will you? Your trouble with the cops could have costed us a lot if they had found the car and made the connection. That was very sloppy of you. I was watching for when they arrived, but you should¡¯ve called. What were you thinking?¡± He shook his head.


    This conversation had gone in a rather surprising direction.


    Adam looked around, scared that someone could hear them.


    ¡°Are you all right, Adam?¡± Pence asked, sounding genuinely worried.


    ¡°He drank too much,¡± Mary said, sternly. It was probably true, but there was no way she could have known that.


    Pence widened his eyes, surprised. He looked back to Adam and seemed to come to an understanding. ¡°I never took you for a drinking man, Adam.¡± After a moment of silence, he sighed deeply. ¡°I know that your job can be...difficult at times, Adam, really, I do. I know you¡¯re not as fine as you sound in all our endeavors. However, sincerely, Adam, that¡¯s what I like about you. My boys, aah, my boys, they can do it and never lose a night of sleep. But the two of us know what death really is, and they just can¡¯t. It¡¯s saddening, really. They never stop to think about what we do, and they don¡¯t want to think about it, ever! They just don¡¯t get it. Now we! We know what it is all about, Adam! We know that when you pull the trigger, it¡¯s the end, the end of everything.¡±


    Adam sat there, not moving a muscle.


    Pence looked down, and gave a small, mirthless laugh. ¡°It can be so very taxing on the mind. I don¡¯t blame you for falling on the bottle. But do take better care of yourself.¡± He gestured at Mary. ¡°You have a wife to whom you give too much worry already.¡±


    Adam lowered his head ever so slightly, averting his eyes from both of them, trying to hide his pondering. He raised his head with a smile. ¡°I will try to be better,¡± he said.


    Mr. Pence seemed satisfied by this. He made small talk about the town after that. ¡°A very nice place. The kind of town where I¡¯d like to die. To be honest, when you proposed we take the forest around here, I wasn¡¯t convinced, Adam; but after seeing the documents Eric had packed in his car, I now know how much money we have in this good deal.¡± He smiled queerly at the last two words, as if he had just told an inside joke.


    For all Adam knew, he just might. He pondered for a second. ¡®Good,¡¯ Was that it? ¡°It¡¯s all due to my...Good name,¡± he said, with a knowing smile, hoping his guess was right.


    As expected, Mr. Pence laughed. Even Mary had a smile creeping up her lips.


    Soon, their conversation came to an end.


    ¡ì


    It was snowing that afternoon. Mary drove slowly, carefully, like someone not used to driving. She never took her eyes off the road, and did not put on music. There were few people walking the streets, probably due to the cold.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me about it,¡± she said, not taking her eyes off the road. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I was drunk, I guess,¡± he tried, lamely.


    She pursed her lips, displeased. Now that they were not with Pence her sweet demeanor had disappeared. ¡°Tell me next time.¡±


    Adam nodded.


    He had a lot to think about. They were criminals, of that he had no doubt anymore. They planned some sort of scam involving the land of someone recently dead that would give them a lot of money. That plan involved Adam impersonating someone else, and that person was probably called Adam Good, who would receive an inheritance, maybe the rights of said land.


    But one question kept repeating in his head, one he wished to answer above all others: what was the thing that killed the two men on the road who Pence believed were murdered by him?

 Chapter 4 - Women

    At the top of the hill, far from town, stood a manor. It was surrounded by vast swathes of dark forest, away from immediate civilization, giving it an ominous quality. It was not the kind of place Adam thought he would like to live in. It was the Good manor.


    Before the door to the house, Mary was hesitating. She was oddly nervous.


    Adam almost asked why, but did not dare to; not knowing if that would feel unnatural. It might be something he knew about, after all.


    Eventually she opened the door, and the two walked in.


    A large hall spread before him, with doorways left and right. Directly opposite the doorway, rose twin stairs leading first to a balcony. From the balcony doorways continued to the second floor.


    A woman stood from a couch. Tall and lean, with black hair up to her shoulders; and a pretty, but mean-looking face. A full length dark-blue dress hugged her body snugly, accenting her curves, yet exposing very little.


    She recognized him, and knitted her brows, displeased. ¡°I heard you suffered an accident,¡± the woman said, spitefully, as if she thought it was shame he hadn¡¯t died. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you didn¡¯t die.¡±


    He felt a little shocked to be told he should die so bluntly, but tried to not let it affect him too much. He glanced at Mary, wondering what her face would be like before this one.


    She was angry, no she was hateful. It was a surprising display of emotion, although maybe it shouldn¡¯t be. He did not know her, after all.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Adam shrugged.


    The woman pursed her lips, and regarded Adam with animosity. She turned around at the sound of heavy footsteps and her grimace became a lovely smile.


    Adam turned too. A man walked in. He was tall, broad-shouldered with a youthful but rigid face and short blond hair. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at Adam¡¯s sight, growing colder. ¡°I heard you suffered an accident.¡± His voice was deep and rough. Fitting.


    ¡°I just came back from the hospital.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It¡¯s good that you are well. There have been enough deaths in the family already.¡±


    Adam smiled. ¡°I could not agree more.¡±


    The man paused, and fixed his gaze upon Adam as if in critique of his words. His gaze lingered uncomfortably. His eyes disengaged. ¡°Let¡¯s go Sasha,¡± he told the woman, and the two left through the door Adam entered from.


    Adam wondered who they were. And why both of them disliked so much.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°I hate that bitch,¡± Mary whispered when they were too far to hear. ¡°Once we¡¯re done, she¡¯s dead.¡± It was startling and almost strange to hear so much hate out of her; Adam reminded himself that he did not know this woman at all. Next, she glared at Adam so harshly he nearly jumped. ¡°Don¡¯t you forget it! I haven¡¯t forgiven you yet,¡± she said, and left it only at that.


    Adam followed her up the stairs and to a room on the second floor.


    After a brief observation, Adam decided they did not live there. Open trunks lay on the floor, smaller cases containing hygiene items were lying over the bed. The room lacked furniture, and had the distinct smell of an unlived room.


    While Adam surreptitiously checked the room, Mary started changing clothes.


    He was surprised, but rapidly recomposed. They were married, he reminded himself.


    ¡°Are you really all right?¡± she asked, putting her nightwear.


    ¡°Err, yes.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow, but did not pursue the reason for his sudden discomfort. She wore a simple and noncommittal pajama, which was slightly disappointing, and lay on the bed. She stretched herself out like a cat, and cocked her head at him. ¡°Are you worried?¡± she asked.


    Adam wondered what he should be worried about, but then he really was worried about many things. ¡°I am very worried.¡±


    She sat, leaning against the bedstead. ¡°Pence said it¡¯s getting to your mind,¡± she muttered. ¡°Is it really?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Adam said.


    She kept staring at him for a long time, saying nothing, but looking as if she very much desired to.


    Adam really wished she would, if only so he could get an inkling of what she thought.


    ¡°Do you really want to kill Sasha?¡± he asked, surprising even himself with the question. But, somehow, he could not accept her cruelty. He needed to verify it.


    Strangely, she seemed confused at first. Then, her expression darkened in what appeared to be understanding. ¡°You¡¯re calling her Sasha now?¡±


    Adam froze. She was angry, and he had no idea why. What had he said wrong?


    She turned away, gritting her teeth. ¡°Of course I want to kill her.¡±


    A pregnant silence settled. Adam could even hear the sound of the wind outside the glass window as it swished the trees. Eventually, she turned back around, seeming morose now. ¡°I am sorry. That was unfair of me.¡±


    Her gaze hurt him. She seemed so contrite Adam considered telling her that he was sorry but didn¡¯t know who she was, that he didn¡¯t know why he was here or what they were planning, that he needed help. But he did not. Was it fear, or something else that prevented him? ¡°We are evil are we not?¡± he ended up asking instead.


    Her eyes widened. After a while, her face softened, and her gaze became kinder, like when he first saw her. ¡°That is a childish question.¡±


    Adam chuckled. He agreed with her.


    ¡°But honestly, I¡¯m sick of it all too,¡± she continued, averting her eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve done so much, too much, too fast. I want some peace and quiet. I don¡¯t want to worry like this anymore. I don¡¯t want to have to endure this.¡± She sighed, looking back at him. ¡°Won¡¯t you have a bath, please?¡±


    ¡°Uh? Ah, yes.¡± The bathroom, he noticed only then, was through a door to his left.


    ¡°Want to take one together?¡± she asked, smiling playfully. Then, because he did not answer, she raised an eyebrow at him, and asked, ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re fine?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed coldly, and her lips twisted in an unpleasant sneer. ¡°What, are you afraid I¡¯ll see some hickeys?¡±


    Adam stopped at the doorway, no idea how to answer, or if he even should. Rather confused, he retreated into the bathroom and locked the door.


    Inside, he was even more confused. He stared at the mirror. It was him, of course. He recognized himself in it. Should he be glad for that? He took off his glasses and gave himself a good look. He looked better with them on. He decided that crime paid a lot of money.


    He laughed at himself. ¡°Who am I?¡± he asked the mirror.


    The tub¡¯s warm water made the wind seem even colder.

 Chapter 5 - Burial in family

    ¡°Do you love me?¡±


    Mary glanced away from the road to give him a confused look. ¡°Why are you asking me that?¡± she asked, understandably bewildered. ¡°Of course I love you. I think I should be the one asking that,¡± she declared, sounding angry, not loving.


    ¡°But do you really love me?¡±


    ¡°I already said I do!¡± She became upset, stepping on accelerator and driving almost forcefully past a car. The driver honked at her. She honked back.


    Many things confused Adam. This woman was one of them. She was his wife, but he didn¡¯t know her, and the little he knew made him unsure. He wanted to tell someone he had lost his memory, and she, as his wife, should be the one he turned to, right?


    ¡°There¡¯s something I want to tell you, but I am not sure how to start?¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why you¡¯re asking if I love you?¡± She narrowed her eyes, not looking away from the road. ¡°I guess I won¡¯t like it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s...difficult to talk about.¡±


    She tensed. ¡°Is this about Sasha?¡± she asked, with a nasty pronunciation of the name. ¡°Because I¡¯m tired of hearing about her.¡±


    Adam wondered why she hated that woman. ¡°It¡¯s not about her,¡± Adam said.


    She flexed her hands on the wheel. ¡°What is it about then?¡±


    ¡°Forget it.¡± Adam decided not to tell her.


    ¡°After all that, just forget it?¡± Mary scoffed.


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    ¡°It was about Alexandra wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Adam fell silent, confused about who she was talking about. Then, it clicked. Sasha was a nickname. ¡°So her name is Alexandra.¡±


    After saying it, he realized his mistake. He should know her name already. He broke into a sweat, expecting the worst but she just chuckled. Her face softened. Unexpectedly, she seemed to be in a good mood after that exchange.


    They stopped at a red light.


    She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and peered down at his hands. ¡°Since when do you read comics?¡±


    By her tone, Adam guessed it was not one of his habits. ¡°Since I was in jail, I guess.¡± He flipped through the book. It was a good story.


    ¡°Oh, how jail changes people,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°What is that, Spider-man?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s Spider-man.¡±


    ¡°How appropriate.¡±


    Adam wondered what she meant by appropriate.


    ¡°We are married, aren¡¯t we?¡± he asked as the light turned green.


    She looked at him as if he was crazy. ¡°Of course we are married.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you driving? I believe I am too chauvinistic not to protest that.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± She laughed, though only a little. ¡°Well, this is my car. Yours is finished. Now that I think about it, it¡¯s been a long time since I drove this. Do you really wanna to drive?¡±


    ¡°No. By the way, I think I lost my phone?¡±


    ¡°What? Oh, in the accident?¡±


    ¡°I guess.¡±


    ¡°Should we stop by a store and buy another?¡±


    ¡°No, we¡¯ll be late. I¡¯ll buy one by myself later.¡± Adam prepared for the strangeness that his next question could elicit. ¡°What¡¯s the code on my card again?¡±


    ¡°7541,¡± she said without missing a beat, as if there were nothing wrong with asking about your own credit card. Was he a forgetful person before losing his memory?


    Well, at least that was one less thing to worry about.


    The parking lot near the cemetery was nearly empty. Mary parked the car and the two left toward the burial.


    ¡°I should have let you drive,¡± she grumbled, observing the creases on her long white sleeveless dress with a double-layered skirt.


    Adam wore a plain black suit of the kind one can find men wearing anywhere, anytime. He fancied it made him look common.


    A small group huddled around the open hole. It was a family-only affair, unlike the funeral, which Adam did not recall. An orator spoke the magnificence of Oliver good.


    Oliver Good that has his name.


    The coffin was laid on the hole and buried while his family stood around it, looking solemn. Sasha, no, Alexandra, and the man who was presumably her husband were present; beside them stood three men, and two women. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the younger woman. They all stood behind an older woman with straw-colored hair who glared at Adam like he was a dirty mutt.


    Adam observed them minutely. Four of them were her children, including the two women besides Alexandra. They all shared her hair, and facial features.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Opposite them stood an even older woman. Streaks of gray ran down her once raven hair, her almond eyes and sharp features told of a beautiful past, but time had not been kind to her. It never was. Behind her stood a man and a woman with dark hair, familiar and remarkably similar faces, both older than Adam. The family did not take their eyes off the coffin for the length of the burial.


    It was quite a clear picture from where Adam stood. This man, Good, had married twice. His children and their mothers were divided in two camps. It would be impossible not to dispute his inheritance.


    A photo of the dead man hung on a frame besides the hole. It was Adam, just as he looked in the mirror, even the glasses. They were so alike that it would be difficult to say Adam was not his son. If anything, the photo was slightly more handsome, but perhaps that was just to be expected of a picture.


    It was deeply disturbing to see his face in that photo of Oliver. It was as if the one being buried were Adam himself.


    Adam wondered if the old man really was his father. But then was the conversation with Pence all about if not a scam? There were more mysteries that he needed to unveil. And why had they used a picture of him young?


    After the burial, one of Oliver¡¯s sons came up to him from the camp of the younger old woman. He was young, eighteen at most, perhaps not even that. Rather long blonde forelocks covered part of his face. ¡°Good morning,¡± he said as he reached up to Adam.


    Adam looked up at the sky. It was covered in clouds, and seemingly about to break into a rain. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    The youth shifted, uncomfortably. ¡°Father¡­is buried now.¡± He let the silence hung in the air, lips twisting as he searched for the correct words. Adam let him. ¡°The rest of the family doesn¡¯t like you,¡± he said, bluntly. ¡°But don¡¯t worry, Mr. Jackson is a very fair lawyer, and everyone in town knows you¡¯ve spent the last six months in father¡¯s house. Ha, that¡¯s more than I can say for any of my siblings!¡±


    ¡°So they don¡¯t like me,¡± Adam said, affably, glancing at the boy¡¯s mother who glared hatefully at him. She shot the youth speaking to him a similar glance.


    The boy seemed afraid of her gaze, but he spoke with Adam nonetheless. ¡°Look, we may have different mothers, but we are brothers, you and I. I guess I just wanted to say that...if you need any help, ask me¡­I can¡¯t promise that I will be able to help, but I can try.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I think your mother and siblings are glaring at you for speaking with me,¡± Adam said, pointing with his chin at them.


    The youth over his shoulder, sighed and dropped his shoulders. ¡°Huh, well, don¡¯t take it to heart. They¡¯re good people, mostly. They just are a little taken aback with, you know, you.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    With a morose drop of his shoulders, the youth left.


    ¡°Do you know his name?¡± he asked Mary.


    ¡°Lucas,¡± she said, and then, realizing what he asked, became upset. ¡°You can¡¯t forget their names!¡± she whispered, but with great alarm. ¡°How can you forget their names?¡±


    ¡ì


    Once the burial was over they all went back to the mansion.


    The burial was strangely exhausting for how brief it was. Everyone lounged in the main hall among couches and small tables, glaring at each other when they arrived.


    They lingered far too long in this game of intimidation for Adam¡¯s taste.


    Finally, the younger mother spoke, ¡°Mr. Jackson will be here tomorrow afternoon to talk about the inheritance.¡± She glared at Adam. ¡°Let us hope it will be a fruitful discussion.¡±


    Oh, she was glaring at him again now. He felt Mary¡¯s grip on his arm grow a little more forceful.


    ¡°You mean, ¡®let¡¯s hope all the money will be mine,¡¯ right, Evelynn?¡± The other old woman lifted her gaze languidly upon Evelynn. Her children stood silent beside her, but silently imposing. She sighed, so laboriously it would be hard not to hear it. ¡°As anyone can see, Oliver has hidden many things from us.¡± She glanced at Adam. ¡°We¡¯re not in the middle-ages anymore. You don¡¯t get his money by being his wife.¡±


    ¡°Good for you,¡± Evelynn said, spitefully.


    She smiled, slovenly. ¡°My marriage with Oliver ended, as it should. But my children are still his.¡± With a malicious snarl she added, ¡°I wonder about yours.¡±


    Evelynn stood, shaking in anger.


    Honestly, her children did look too much like her and too little like him, or rather Oliver.


    ¡°Let¡¯s stop here,¡± said the older of Evelynn¡¯s daughters, clapping her hands. She sat at the edge of one couch, green eyes looking over the others. For a moment her eyes lingered on Adam, and he could swear he saw them tear up. ¡°The cook prepared a magnificent lunch for all of us. Let us set aside our differences and, at least for today, try to act like a family.¡±


    Without waiting for anyone, she stood. A man stood after her, excusing himself. Her husband.


    ¡°Well I am hungry,¡± Alexandra declared, standing up, rather primly. ¡°Shall we go, John?¡± she asked her husband.


    He rolled his eyes at her and accompanied her toward the next room.


    The whole family moved there. But Mary held Adam from going. Her eyes implied she wished to speak in private.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Adam asked, feeling trepidation at being asked something he should know.


    ¡°I just wanted to ask you about the certificate. We¡¯ll need to show it to Jackson. You got it right?¡± she asked, whispering, serious, worried.


    Adam had no idea what she meant. ¡°No,¡± he said.


    She gritted her teeth. ¡°After all this time you still haven¡¯t got it? We¡¯ll have problems if the lawyer gets here before you get it, and it would be bad if the others saw you take it. Good thing he¡¯s only coming tomorrow. Why don¡¯t you have it yet?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± he answered, truthfully.


    She lowered her head, sagged her should and sighed dramatically. Then, she looked sideways, giving it some thought. ¡°I¡¯d like some of the books too. You said the collection here was grand. Get me some when you take the papers.¡±


    Adam wondered how he should go about this. For lack of time, he chose honesty. ¡°I think I forgot where all of that is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding right? It¡¯s in the secret room!¡± She hastily looked around, realizing she raised her voice, but no one had heard her. After calming down, she frowned, looking at the floor. ¡°We¡¯ll have a fight during lunch, and I¡¯ll go up to my room. Then, you can go to the secret room. Be fast.¡±


    Confused¡ªas always¡ªAdam went to the other room.


    There was a feast prepared on the table. A feast after a burial, was that normal? In any case people were eating.


    Adam was served a fish in gravy and cheese, mashed potatoes, and several beans by who he supposed was the cook, a rotund man in his forties who seemed rather scared of him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s have small talk,¡± Mary said, beside him. She looked around, and approached very close. ¡°It¡¯s hard to hear what we¡¯re saying if we¡¯re this close.¡±


    ¡°A talk about what?¡±


    ¡°About nothing. Just say whatever comes to mind while I get angry.¡±


    ¡°Mary, I sincerely wish you were more instructive,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I am a very forgetful man. How could I possibly do what you want me to do anyway?¡±


    ¡°The same way you always do it,¡± she said, growing upset. ¡°You always do this!¡± she screamed loud enough for the room to hear, and hit the table with both hands, noisily cluttering the tableware.


    Adam was shocked.


    Everyone turned their way.


    Mary looked around. Her face reddened in shame and she ran from the room.


    After she left, Adam stood, as if breaking out of a trance, and followed after her.


    At the main hall, he saw her going up the stairs.


    She stopped and looked down at him. She muttered something, and looked at the door to the dining room. ¡°Be fast,¡± she mouthed, and left.


    Adam watched her go in a sort of trance. He lugged to a couch and sat, wondering what he would do now


    The conversation continued loudly in the other room as Adam¡¯s heart filled with uncertainty and trepidation.


    After some time, he heard the clicking of heels approaching.


    It was Alexandra, Sasha, dressed in a black dress that hugged her body perhaps too sensuously for a burial. Steps lights, she sauntered his way, looking this way and that, faking casualness and sat on a couch opposite him.


    A squat table stood between them.


    She smiled a smile oozing friendliness. ¡°Hi, Adam,¡± she greeted, not a trace of her previous hatred.


    He had a bad feeling.

 Chapter 6 - Spying

    Alexandra fished a cigarette from a small purse and held it between her middle and forefinger, in rather feminine fashion. She seemed uncharacteristically content. ¡°Do you mind?¡±


    ¡°Was I the sort to mind?¡±


    Taking that as either affirmation or a joke, she lighted the cigarette. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then let the smoke escape through her nostrils. She dropped the cinders in a tray on the small table between them.


    Adam thought it a little disgusting, but kept silent. He felt anxious about his conversation with Mary and had no time to ponder about the woman.


    Eventually, she smiled coquettishly his way. ¡°My husband is still speaking with his mother.¡± The last word was uttered with no small amount of disgust. ¡°Your wife won¡¯t come down for now, right? Come, let¡¯s go to the library.¡±


    She left with the attitude of someone who could not conceive he wouldn¡¯t follow. Her whole personality was absurdly different, almost as if she were someone else. Was she deceiving him somehow?


    He felt suspicious, but followed her to the library, curious about the sudden change, and knowing there was no use in pondering about what he couldn¡¯t remember. Maybe it was time to give up this childish cover-up.


    The library was on the west wing, on the first floor. It was not a large room, but not small either. There was a table and chair for reading near a large globe fixed on a frame about four feet tall at the far side, between two shelves of books reaching up to the ceiling. A moving ladder leaned lonesome against the shelves for reaching the books far above. A painting of him hung on the wall beyond the table.


    ¡°Oliver does look quite like you, doesn¡¯t he?¡± she said, gesturing daintily at it. ¡°Compared to John, you¡¯re much more like your father.¡±


    ¡°I suppose so.¡± Adam meandered about the books, and picked a book at random. It was the third volume of the history of the world. It looked brand-new, as if never read.


    ¡°Is everything all right with you?¡± she asked, the concern in her voice reminding him of Mary. ¡°You¡¯ve been acting a little¡­different today.¡±


    He closed the book. ¡°If I may ask, how have I been different?¡± he asked, sitting on the only chair available. A book lay on the table, leather-bound, worm and used.


    Familiar.


    Adam felt a cold tingle as his fingertips touched the cover. His mouth clamped shut. With effort, he managed to swallow. He knew this book.


    ¡°You act less bold, and don¡¯t speak as much,¡± she said, then noticed his gaze upon the book. ¡°It looks like one of the books from the secret room. I guess he was reading this one before dying?¡±


    ¡°Secret room?¡± he asked, surprised to hear about what he wanted from her.


    ¡°Yes, secret room.¡± She leaned over the table. ¡°Forget that. Come here.¡± She slithered her arms around his neck, and, unexpectedly, pulled him to a kiss.


    He reeled away, surprised.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, suddenly wary and looked over her shoulder. She relaxed. ¡°My husband is still in the dining room, he won¡¯t come after me now. Your wife is not coming after you now, is she?¡±


    Many thoughts raced through Adam¡¯s mind. Mary, Alexandra, about the certificate in a secret room.


    He understood. He and this woman were having an affair. Her previous behavior before her husband and Mary were just acting. He felt mortified, and ashamed. That was who he was: a murderer, a cheat, a criminal. He wondered if Mary knew. She probably did.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, feeling depressed. ¡°But someone else could see us.¡±


    She grinned, nonplussed and fixed a lock of hair out of place. ¡°I did talk about a secret room before did I not? I¡¯ll show it to you.¡±


    She put her small hand over the globe and twirled it, until a small click. A nearby shelf moved inward, revealing a hidden room.


    Adam felt baffled at the way things were happening. He followed her in. Inside, she pressed another button and the door moved back into place. A second later, the lights turned on, revealing a smaller room, filled with books, but considerably less than the library. At the very center stood a table and chair just like in the previous room. Above the table lay a scroll.


    ¡°Oliver put the older things here, I guess,¡± Alexandra said with a chuckle. ¡°John showed me this place when we were dating. The rest of his family doesn¡¯t even know it exists. Oh, sorry, I guess you wouldn¡¯t want to talk about that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s filled with books,¡± Adam said, approaching the table. He read the scroll above it. It taught one how to project an avatar in another plane of existence.


    ¡°There¡¯s a panel in the ceiling. It leads to one of the rooms in the second floor.¡± She observed the scroll he was reading. ¡°I wonder in what language this is written. Oliver liked to collect strange things. Well, that doesn¡¯t matter.¡± She snaked her arms around him. ¡°Now that we are together how about...we try something new?¡±


    Rather flustered, though he hoped it was well-hidden, Adam asked, ¡°here?¡±


    She looked around, mildly disappointed, somewhat upset. ¡°What is it now?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little too dusty for that?¡± he asked, gesturing at the room. He swept a finger over the table for emphasis.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    She looked around, frowning, and looked at her dress. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a little too dirty. John would notice if I dirtied my dress,¡± she complained, disappointed. She arched her eyebrow at him, but did not express her obvious suspicion.


    Internally, Adam sighed in relief. He didn¡¯t know why. He probably had slept with her before losing his memory anyhow, so it was really pointless not to do it again, and probably counterproductive. It was futile, really.


    ¡°So, what were you and Oliver doing in his last months of life?¡± she asked, probably trying to make conversation.


    Suddenly she yelped, as though someone had hit her. She looked around as did Adam, but neither found anything. Upon realizing she blushed, frowning, displeased. Clearly she was not fond of being seen in embarrassment.


    ¡°I forgot,¡± he said, looking around the room.


    He felt something inside of this room, as if he was supposed to know where things were, and as if he was supposed to know that things were currently out of place.


    ¡°You forgot? Ha! He used to say that all the time too, Oliver. And are you ready to tell how you plan to dispose of my husband?¡±


    Adam stopped, mildly horrified. He arranged his thoughts, and tried to answer correctly. ¡°I think I should wait until the inheritance is divided,¡± he said, carefully studying her reaction.


    ¡°Trying to avoid suspicion? Who would even investigate if something happened here? People disappear around the forest all the time.¡±


    Adam wondered what he had done and said for things to reach this point. Was every woman involved with him a murderous psycho?


    ¡°They will investigate his family for sure. You, I and the rest of the family will all be suspects. Especially because of the inheritance.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± she muttered, dropping the issue.


    Suddenly, Adam felt cold. Almost, he could hear a voice whispering at his ears. It was so strange and yet so familiar.


    He looked upon the scroll on the table and felt as if he had seen it before. Dreams, power, longevity. A sweet, melodious voice full of promises.


    He imagined himself, sitting by this very chair, sifting through countless pages of ancient writings whose words he had yet to decipher. He wrote notes, countless notes. He poured his soul into it, hoping to reach...to reach what? And where were these notes now?


    ¡°Adam?¡±


    He gazed somberly upon her worried face. The image rushed to his mind unbidden: a dark room, a disgusting flowery smell mixed with tobacco and sweat, and a faint smell of sulfur and wine. He drew a circle with his fingertips, then a triangle, feeling anger and repulse.


    ¡°Adam?¡±


    Her voice brought him back to the moment. ¡°Oh, sorry, I spaced out for a second.¡±


    She frowned gently, touching his chest. ¡°Maybe you should go to the hospital again about that accident.¡±


    It was a rather contrasting show of concern. He almost laughed out loud, and his face twisted in a grin. It was almost as if he were watching a play. His life was the stage, him the audience, and the actor someone who did what he could not.


    Acting on impulse, he pulled her close to him, and kissed her deeply. She answered in kind. When their lips parted, she seemed out of breath, a string of saliva dripping from her lips. She licked it away.


    A dull sound startled them both.


    Adam searched for the source and found a book had just dropped on the floor.


    There was no reason for that book to drop.


    ¡°Weird,¡± Alexandra muttered under her breath.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for playing around now,¡± he whispered on her ears, with natural ease. ¡°Your husband will be searching for you soon.¡±


    She pouted, but relented. With a sigh, she stood up and fixed her clothes.


    Adam asked about the mechanism to open the secret door and she told him. It was a combination of coordinates on the globe.


    Internally, Adam let out a sigh of relief at finishing this awkward encounter.


    Both went back to the front hall.


    Alexandra lit another cigarette. ¡°I told John I was smoking,¡± she said, with a raised eyebrow. ¡°So I need to smoke. Isn¡¯t it nice of him to not complain about this vice of mine?¡±


    Why would you compliment a man you want to murder? Adam wished to ask, but of course, said nothing. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, pondering whether there was any reason to remain around this woman.


    He heard the footsteps of someone else come from the dining room.


    It was the older of Evelynn¡¯s daughters. She glared at him, spitefully.


    He decided there was no reason to remain, and left.


    ¡ì


    Mary lay on the bed, reading a book. ¡°I don¡¯t remember you being so quick.¡± She did not raise her eyes at him.


    Adam stopped at the doorway, startled at her tone. ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep with her,¡± he said, entering the room. He closed the door behind him.


    Now, they were all alone.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you said last time,¡± Mary said, flatly.


    ¡°Was I lying last time?¡± he asked.


    She glared at him.


    ¡°I sincerely cannot remember,¡± he explained.


    ¡°What, you have amnesia now?¡± She laughed.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°I can¡¯t remember anything to do with Alexandra.¡±


    She took it as a joke. Either way, she was mollified and glanced at him over her. ¡°Take a bath. I don¡¯t want you smelling like her.¡±


    Adam appreciated the time away. He didn¡¯t want to face her at the moment.


    In the bath, he thought things over. What had been those memories? It was him, but different, reading countless pages of forgotten writing. Adam had been to the library before, but that room, something was different about that room.


    He closed his eyes, relaxing in the bathtub, and tried to remember.


    He recalled a room, like that one, but furnished with less books, messier, lighted by hand lanterns because he couldn¡¯t get electrical wiring in it, or didn¡¯t bother to. The placement was subtly different, but the table and chair were just the same.


    It was not the same room, but a similar one.


    In there, he sat before a table and compared fragments of texts, deciphered languages, and made annotations. Where were those annotations?


    Hedrew asquare with strange symbols at every edge. A dark greenish rock, ground into powder was mixed with a precise amount of fluid and poured over it. The room smelled of sulfur and wine. Mary stood there, her face blanched in fear. She placed a cloth around her nose, for the smell was terrible, but He was used to it.


    He recited the words, almost lyrical, precise, mathematical. The powder and vital fluid eluted and became a small figure, like a bat. It immediately lunged at him but could not escape the circle. It fretted about, shrieking an agonizing, piercing screech that made his soul reel in terror. But it lifted his spirits even more to know that He succeeded!


    He took a golden nail, inscribed with powerful signs, long prepared for this moment, and waited for the creature to tire itself. It was small, not yet strong. Now was the time to make it yield. After it flailed one last time and fell to the floor, He stuck the nail in its chest. It bit him then, but it was only a scratch, nothing to worry over. He assured Mary it was nothing, and continued the ritual.


    He chanted another chant, longer, more complex. The creature thrashed for a while still, but eventually it fell under control.


    With the excitement of success, he nearly forgot to take notes. He asked Mary for his notebook. Where was it? Oh, of course, it was with her, he had given it to her. She even took the notes for him. She was getting better at this.


    In the bathtub, Adam opened his eyes.


    ¡°Adam?¡± Mary said, from the other side of the door.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I fell asleep.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t take too long.¡±


    Adam answered, not really paying attention to what she said. He remembered the notebook. It was a leather-bound book. At a glance, it appeared like any old book. It was the book above the table in the library.


    His journal.


    Outside, the moon was filling the sky, and a cold wind was blowing. He heard the sound of battering wings, and drifted away.

 Chapter 7 - The Withering Sun

    The Whitering Sun


    Mary lay asleep, her face pressed against the mattress. A blanket covered her up to her bare shoulders, but left the lower part of her legs exposed. Her dreams had tossed her around while in sleep.


    Adam watched her face as moonlight drifted over them, wondering if he loved her. The moon watched from beyond the window and was soon hidden behind clouds. Mary¡¯s eyelids trembled, and she frowned; then she turned the other way, refusing to wake.


    She was beautiful, sleeping peacefully as she was. He did not want to wake her up. So he simply sat beside her, watching her sleep, thinking about his life.


    Soon the day would begin, and perhaps the looming terror enveloping his heart would vanish.


    It had happened soon after Mary fell asleep, after upsetting grips and caresses that left Adam drained, and not a little depressed.While she slept, Adam returned to the library planning to collect his notebook. He figured whatever was written inside could tell him who he was, and perhaps help him recover his memory.


    Then, he entered the secret room.


    Even in the encompassing silence, he couldn¡¯t hear the shelf scraping the floor as it swung inward. Within, the soft, weak light seemed eerier than before. The fallen book still lay on the floor, covered in dust that had accumulated inside the place. Adam bent to pick that book and put it on the table.


    Without Alexandra, he was free to investigate as he pleased, and soon he found a safe behind one of the bookcases. He removed the bookcase from its place, and studied the box of metal inset on the masonry. He did not know the combination. No, that was not correct; he did not remember the combination.


    He heard he spent at least six months with Oliver in this mansion. Whatever he was doing here, tricking the deceased man, or something else, he would have found the combination for this safe, just as he already knew the location of this room, and Alexandra had something to do with it. Did he use her to find this room, or was it for something else? It was all conjecture, but he believed he was right.


    He looked around. Was Oliver the type to write the combination somewhere? No, that was wishful thinking.


    Adam felt dejected in the face of this obstacle. But standing alone, with nothing but his dejection to face, made him ponder. Should he do this? He was unsure, but from the little he knew, it was certain his actions were despicable. Mary suggested the presence of a risk to their lives. He did not want to die, but what risk exactly was that? Pence? Would that fatty take revenge if whatever scheme they planned failed?


    He was trapped in a mire of uncertainty.


    He opened his journal randomly. It was full of drawings, diagrams and what appeared to be recipes and instructions on some sort of strange and complex project. How exactly would he make a spider out of moonlight, and why would he want that? He closed the book feeling a headache, and decided to read more later.


    In any case, there was a nice, fine scroll lying over the table. He read the scroll, half-deciphering the text as he did. In what language it was written, he had no idea, but he could read it and that was enough.


    By the end of it, he was no closer to finding the safe numbers, but he understood that fragments of light escaped through the cracks of dreams from somewhere higher. It was a very strange scroll, and explained in the meaning of certain symbols, but their apparent use needed a previous understanding Adam was unware of. As he caressed the paper, he realized that he held something old in his hands, something belonging in a museum.


    Next, he took the book.


    His fingers shook, and the book clattered upon the table, falling from his grasp. His hair stood on end. His mind reeled away. His heart hammered against his chest, and his breathing intensified. He felt a coldness creeping up his back, like an icy breath from over his shoulder, standing behind him, leaning close to see what he read.


    He almost heard their soundless footsteps tiptoeing behind his back, from side, to side, to side.


    He almost heard their voice, whispering gentle questions at his ear.


    Their hand upon his shoulder as they looked upon him with large, wide eyes, filled with child-like wonder.


    He whipped his head around. But naturally, nothing stood there.


    Adam looked upon the cover of the book he dropped. A bat in mid-flight was drawn over the leather volume, staring ahead, fangs bared, wings spread open.


    He reeled away from it, jumping back like a startled cat, the chair falling on the floor. He rushed back to his room, hurrying through the hallways and stairs, like a kid scared of the dark, or maybe of monsters hiding in the shadows.


    He sat beside the sleeping Mary, half-panicking, sweating, trying to control his breathing.


    His head hurt, and something terrible had frightened him, but he could not define what.


    Mary moaned, turning in her sleep. He stopped his movements and eased is breathing, trying not to wake her.


    She slept fitfully, but with calm, even breathing. Somehow that soothed him. His fright that had been so intense, felt like it was hidden behind a veil. He put it out of mind.


    Adam drifted at some point, but dreams of large shadows dancing under the moonlight woke him long before dawn.


    ¡ì


    He watched her throughout the night. Before he knew it, morning had arrived.


    She stirred awake lazily, not willing to get up. She half-sat, looked toward the window from where light shone down on her, frowned and greeted him with the familiarity of a long-time couple, not minding her dazed, sleepy eyes, her face, or her disheveled hair. She yawned and flopped back down on the bed, then looked at him with more care. ¡°You didn¡¯t sleep well.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep at all,¡± Adam said, words dripping melancholy.


    She yawned again. ¡°Why? Something on your mind?¡±


    He sighed, feeling tired, and scared. ¡°I went to the secret room last night.¡±


    She turned toward him. ¡°Oh, right. Did you get my books?¡±


    ¡°Sorry I forgot about the books. There is a safe there.¡±


    She glared at him. ¡°And?¡± she asked, as if urging to not be held in suspense.


    ¡°And I don¡¯t know the combination.¡±


    She appeared confused enough to make Adam think his secret was out now. Yes that would be good.


    ¡°You forgot something that important?¡± she asked, and Adam wondered how long it would take her to realize he had forgotten everything. ¡°I guess Alexandra wouldn¡¯t know. But Evelynn or Sarah should, why didn¡¯t you enter their dreams?¡±


    Adam was about to ask what she was talking about, when he remembered his journal had notes on that. Strangely, he almost had a good idea of how to do it, actually.


    ¡°Evelynn never wakes before noon,¡± Mary said, checking her cellphone. ¡°There¡¯s still time.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She pulled a trunk from under the bed. That was there? Several small labelled cases lay within. She opened three of them. One was a powder, one a perfectly round pebble, and the other was a strangely colored intangible substance that moved by itself as though propelled by a wind that was not present.


    The strange-colored thing slowly bobbed around in the air, fluttering this way and that while Mary used the powder to draw a variety of symbols on the wooden floor. After a moment of this, she looked up at Adam with questioning eyes. ¡°Come help me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re doing so well,¡± Adam said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a bother.¡± He studied the symbols. He knew them; he saw them inside his head and in his journal.


    ¡°Adam?¡± she asked, and looked at him as though seeing something unfamiliar. ¡°You¡¯ve been acting weird ever since the accident. We should go to the hospital again; I don¡¯t think you¡¯re fine.¡±


    ¡°Just finish what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    Mary scowled, but continued to write. Soon, the symbols were complete.


    Adam flipped through his notebook and found the rite before him. Seventeen symbols around a certain meteorite, written with fool¡¯s gold. Then you needed the fragment of a purple dream, a dream of The Sphere.


    The strange-colored thing was drawn into the center of the drawing. Once on the center, it collapsed on itself as the air shimmered and twisted. The air rippled like water or molten glass.


    As though moved by a will that was not his own, he approached the ripple. No, he had not moved, neither had the ripple. But suddenly he found himself before it, entering it.


    His eyelids felt heavy, and he wished nothing more than to sleep.


    He was hurled through space, feeling a terrible sense of smallness before what appeared to be an infinite distance. He was falling at terrible speeds. He screamed desperately, his mind unable to wrap itself around what was happening. Then all was dark.


    ¡ì


    A brick wall with pipes running around it rose before him. A door three steps above ground stood to his left. He looked behind and saw another brick wall. Left and right led to the exit of the alley.


    Adam was utterly confused, not understanding why or how he was thrown into a street.


    This was an alley between two edifices. The sun was directly above his head, but it was not hot. It felt cold.


    A distant rumbling far beneath his feet pulled his attention to the ground. It was porous, as if not all there. Dust swirled toward the sky in thin, long and twisted spirals.


    He saw the sun, and was awestruck by the bizarreness of its appearance. The sun was red, seemingly far more solid than the real sun, like a distant round stone and connected to the earth by an enormously tall spire of a far redder shade. And that spire¡­was it moving? Its light felt cold. It seemed alive. No, it was alive, and it knew they were there.


    ¡°It looks rather nice,¡± Mary said. Only then did Adam notice her. She was not wearing a pajama, but a white and black dress that showed very little skin. He looked over himself, realizing he wore the clothes he was wearing for the funeral.


    Mary went to the door and gave him a strange look.


    Masking his confusion, he followed her.


    Inside was a cozy room, comfortably dark, with wooden panels for walls, red couches, red curtains and fluffy brown carpets. The room was cold as winter, but on the far side, a fireplace crackled at the investiture of a poker held by an old, withered hand. A reddish light poured over the room from a single window on the wall to the right of the fireplace, shining over stone busts in the image of Oliver¡¯s children.


    Adam could only be awed by the intricate weirdness of the room as he followed Mary toward the person by the fire. It was a woman, dressed fully in black, face covered by a veil. She sat on an old rickety chair, and sighed wearily, letting her neck bend backward.


    She noticed Adam and Mary, but merely glanced at them, utterly disinterested, as if they were part of the scenery.


    Evelynn, Adam recognized once close enough to see her face beneath the veil. She was at least ten years older, her lustrous golden hair gone white and lifeless, her eyes unfocused and colorless; her skin was like pulled parchment folded over itself. Why did she look like this?


    ¡°Would you like to?¡± Mary asked, gesturing toward the woman.


    Adam had no idea what she meant, so he shrugged and gestured for her to go instead.


    Sighing, Mary stood before the old woman, held her face and made her turn her eyes at her. ¡°There is a safe within a secret room inside the library of the mansion you have lived in since you married Oliver Good, but left last year when the two of you had your last fight,¡± she said, spacing every word apart as if afraid she would not be understood. ¡°What is the code for that safe?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Evelynn uttered, dazedly as though she were not fully aware of what was asked of her. ¡°Yes...no...no. I can¡¯t speak of the room,¡± she said, trembling. ¡°It¡¯s forbidden.¡±


    ¡°Forbidden,¡± Mary said. She smiled, and carefully, as if playing with a newborn, lifted the veil from Evelynn¡¯s eyes.


    Evelynn shook and moaned as though suffering some terrible pain.


    Suddenly, Mary held a chalice in her hands, filled with thick, red liquid. ¡°Worry not, Mrs. Evelynn. I shall not ask about the room again. Would you like a drink? It goes very well with a cold afternoon.¡±


    She placed the cup in Evelynn¡¯s hands, who looked curiously upon it with her dazed eyes.


    ¡°Is it wine?¡±


    ¡°The most delicious wine there is, or can be.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Evelynn muttered. ¡°That sounds delicious. I like to drink. I like to drink too much, especially when Oliver gets angry with me.¡± She took a sip and her eyes brightened, though only for a moment. She drank the rest in thirsty gulps. ¡°This is incredible!¡± She became agape at the cup, and looked upon Mary. ¡°Is there more?¡± she asked, like kid asking for candy.


    ¡°But of course,¡± Mary said, sitting on the couch and refilling her drink.


    Finding this situation very bizarre, Adam sat beside her. The room suddenly shifted, but visibly as if twisting over itself. The chair Evelynn sat in faced the couch, and the reddish glow from the window diminished as brambles grew on the other side of the glass.


    ¡°But before drinking more, why don¡¯t we talk about secrets?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Evelynn nodded. ¡°When you drink, you have to speak, it is only polite. And we share secrets over drinks, of course.¡±


    ¡°We do, don¡¯t we?¡± Mary laughed, making Evelynn smile a little. ¡°You have two sons, right?¡±


    ¡°And two daughters!¡± she declared, proudly. ¡°John, Lucas, Louis and Delilah. Delilah¡¯s husband is almost like a son to me. But Louis¡¯ husband, oh she could¡¯ve done a lot better than that sniveling mongrel.¡±


    ¡°Your children look a lot like you.¡±


    An upset expression appeared on her face. ¡°Too much. I wish they¡¯d look more like their father, honestly. Then that¡ª¡± she stopped herself from saying whatever bitter word was coming out. She grinded her teeth, but relaxing, continued. ¡°Then Sarah wouldn¡¯t make her snip comments. Oh, how I envy those children of hers; just like Oliver they are, just like that god damned bastard.¡±


    ¡°Oliver was quite the catch wasn¡¯t he?¡± Mary asked. She shot Adam a playful glance. ¡°He was very handsome.¡±


    Evelynn sighed, wistfully. ¡°I suppose he was.¡± Then she shook her head. ¡°But good looks only make so much in a man. He was obsessed, obsessed!¡±


    Mary fell silent. She looked upon the old woman with a gentle gaze, almost kindly, sympathetic even. She quickly shook her head as if to rid herself of whatever feeling was affecting her and continued. ¡°He had a hidden safe, did he not?¡±


    ¡°He had, in the hidden room,¡± she continued.


    ¡°Oh, and did he ever tell you the combination? He must have.¡±


    Evelynn smiled wryly. ¡°He would never tell me a thing like that.¡± She looked at the ceiling as if searching for something written there. ¡°But he may have written it in his journal. He carried one, you know, wrote everything in it. He was quite forgetful. I always had to remember him of stuff.¡±


    ¡°Forgetful is it?¡± Mary shot a smile at Adam.


    He smiled wryly to hide his discomfort.


    ¡°And where is that journal?¡±


    Evelynn did not answer at first. Then she frowned, displeased. ¡°Sarah must have it,¡± she said. ¡°She was the first to arrive, and made all the arrangements for his body before I arrived. The gall! Making arrangements for my husband!¡±


    ¡°It should be in her room then,¡± Mary mused, and looked at Adam. ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± Adam said. ¡°Should I look for it?¡±


    ¡°How could you not know?¡± she asked, exasperated. Then she frowned. ¡°This is not some kind of test is it? ¡®Cause I¡¯m sick of that.¡±


    Should he know it? ¡°Let¡¯s leave,¡± he told her, hastily, trying to hide his lack of memory.


    She looked at him, wonderingly, silently. She seemed to be trying to see through him. ¡°I love you,¡± she said, suddenly.


    Adam wondered why she would say that now.


    ¡°You¡¯re not exactly good to me, but I still love you,¡± she continued. ¡°I even continued to love you despite Alexandra because I believe in you. Sometimes I think I am idiot for that. Either way, I love you; so, tell me, what is it that you¡¯re hiding from me?¡±


    Adam froze. She had realized, of course. It would be hard not to, after all that happened. ¡°Maybe we should leave here first before having this conversation,¡± he said, looking at Evelynn, who was still sitting, apathetic, perhaps not even seeing them. She was doing embroidery.


    ¡°No.¡± Mary turned around and gazed directly at him, as if daring him to break eye contact. ¡°Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know that you hide things from me. I decided to let you tell me when you want to. But something changed. You¡¯re acting strange and I want to know why.¡±


    Adam felt his heart beating wildly within his chest. His hair stood on end. He felt like an electric shock ran through him.


    The wood of the room groaned as though splitting.


    Mary was startled, and looked around at the room. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not me,¡± Adam said, defending himself. The wood started to crack. The fire went out with a puff. The room shook. The door broke open. Evelynn shrieked as a powerful, cold draft invaded the room.


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Mary screamed.


    ¡°It¡¯s not me!¡±


    A long, loud moan came from outside, as if some large creature were approaching. Red light and white mist poured through the open door and cracks on the walls. The glass of the window melted in a torrent of light and mist.


    ¡°It¡¯s not you,¡± Mary whispered, frightened. She clung to him, trembling.


    Adam embraced her, having no idea what to do. She raised her eyes, pleading.


    Adam calmed down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.


    Suddenly he knew what to do. He had done this many times before.


    The world became a tunnel before him, and he was forcefully propelled through it. At the end of it, was himself.


    All was black, and then he opened his eyes.


    He was in the room. Mary was at his side, taking deep breaths, clutching her head. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked, looking toward Adam.


    But what could he answer, when he felt more confused than ever?

 Chapter 8 - Certificate

    Certificate


    Light shone down on him.


    Adam looked toward the sun and blinked. It was wonderfully yellow. He stood on shaking legs, and wondered how much time had passed while in the dream.


    He saw the time on Mary¡¯s cellphone. It was thirty past nine.


    Mary was shaking and taking deep breaths. She seemed far more exhausted than him.


    He suffered from a powerful migraine, but changed his clothes while Mary steadied herself on the bed, head drooping lifelessly. She watched him through pain-filled eyes.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Mary said. ¡°What is happening?¡± She clutched her head. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    Adam finished changing his clothes, thinking what to say to her. The truth? Maybe later, now was not the time for truth, and he realized something else too. Even without his memories, there were things he knew how to do. Maybe he was recovering.


    ¡°I need to get the code,¡± he told her. ¡°You seem in pain. Rest.¡±


    ¡°Of course I am in pain, you jackass!¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to get it alone, then.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t leave yet.¡±


    Someone screamed. It reverberated through the mansion. ¡°Evelynn.¡±


    Mary gritted her teeth at the sound. Adam worried for her. Was there something he could do? ¡°Is everything all right?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she groaned, not sounding all right at all. ¡°Damnit, what was that thing?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Adam said, heading for the door.


    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t leave!¡±


    Adam closed the door on her last words.


    A long, pristine corridor with wooden floorboards that seemed to glisten waited outside. All the bedrooms of the house were located on the second floor, though he was unsure of which belonged to who. It was a simple matter to discover; the corridor circumvented them all.


    After two turns he saw all Evelynn¡¯s children crowding around a door. Sarah and both her children stood aside, merely watching. The old woman glanced at Adam as he arrived. She wore sleeping clothes, clearly having rushed here.


    John broke the door, hurrying inside, his siblings at his heels.


    No one minded Adam as he walked in after the others. He started as the younger of her daughters screeched at the terrible sight.


    Evelynn lay on the bed, wearing a negligee someone her age really shouldn¡¯t, her unnaturally pale face a frozen mask, her lips purple, her eyes bloodshot. Blood was dripping from her nose, and she seemed catatonic.


    Adam was shocked and disgusted. What terrible things had happened to her in that place after he left? Did he even want to know?


    Alexandra arrived, and covered her mouth in horror, stifling a scream of horror.


    Sarah and her children stood by the entrance, not daring to enter.


    Adam took a brief look around the room. The nightstand was covered in medicine bottles. The dress she wore last night lay on the carpet. A shelf of baubles rested above the bed. A wardrobe stood to the left of the room. A photo of herself from many years ago hung on the wall.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    After studying the room, he decided to look for Sarah¡¯s room.


    ¡°Wait, you!¡±


    Adam stopped, turning around.


    John was facing him. His siblings behind him, wearing confused looks. Except the youngest daughter, who held her mother¡¯s hand like a lifeline.


    ¡°You did this!¡± John declared, pointing at Evelynn.


    For a second Adam felt flustered. But the feeling easily faded, replaced by the utilitarian want to lie. He cocked his head, an appropriately confused expression on his face. ¡°How could I have done this?¡±


    Alexandra, Adam noticed from the corner of his eyes, had palled and flinched as she heard her husband¡¯s accusation. She scampered to one side, clearly not willing to stand near.


    ¡°You don¡¯t deceive me,¡± he continued. ¡°You are the same as the old man.¡±


    ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about.¡± Adam shook his head. ¡°Maybe you should see a doctor.¡±


    ¡°John, stop!¡± screamed the older sister. ¡°This is no time for this. We need to call an ambulance.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll see myself out,¡± Adam said, turning away.


    ¡°That¡¯s all you have to say about this?¡± asked the other sister, turning toward him. Tears rolled down her cheeks, making her look pathetically distraught.


    Adam stopped, and faced her. ¡°I am sorry for your loss.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not dead!¡± said the older sister.


    Adam shrugged. ¡°I guess I am not sorry for your loss then.¡±


    John lunged at him, unexpectedly, or perhaps not so much. He punched Adam in the face.


    Adam stumbled and touched his cheek. Strangely, he felt not a trace of pain. He turned toward John, who was kneading his fist. He pushed up his glasses. ¡°You hit like a girl.¡±


    Lucas stood, shocked.


    ¡°Stop it!¡± The older daughter shouted again, stopping him from rushing at Adam again.


    She glared at Adam. Adam studied her, saying nothing.


    ¡°This is my mother,¡± she declared, sharply as if daring him to object. Then she turned toward her husband who had surreptitiously arrived while he faced John. ¡°Call the hospital.¡±


    Adam turned away to leave. He came face to face with Sarah, staring creepily at him. She did not stop observing him even as he left. Her two children studied him, intently.


    He continued down the winding corridor, checking the rooms as he passed. He saw the dress Sarah was using last night on a clothes rack. Her room was thankfully after a bend that made it impossible to see him entering.


    The room was lacking in personality. It had little furnishing, no carpet, and the bed was small. Still, her open wardrobe had many clothes.


    The book, surprisingly enough lay above the bed.


    He sighed. Even if she noticed, he had no choice. He snatched the book.


    ¡ì


    Mary lay on the bed, holding her head. She seemed in pain. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re back.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite a long journal,¡± Adam said, opening in a random page, and reading a passage about how John was a disappointment. ¡°It¡¯ll take a while to find it.¡±


    ¡°Give it here,¡± Mary said, flopping around in bed. ¡°Ha, the world is upside-down now.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you should strain yourself.¡±


    ¡°Just give it here!¡± she insisted.


    He gave it to her, sighing. She opened it and smirked. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s on the first page.¡±


    He took the book back, surprised. ¡°How did you know that?¡±


    ¡°Because your passwords are written on the first page of your notebook.¡±


    Adam¡¯s mind blanked out. He took out his journal and realized that she was correct.


    She fixed her gaze on him. ¡°Why are you checking what I said?¡±


    He froze. ¡°I had forgotten I did that,¡± he tried to explain, but it sounded lame even to him.


    ¡°Forgot¡­forgot, hmmm¡­is your age getting to you now?¡±


    He stood. ¡°Do you want a painkiller?¡±


    ¡°Already took one,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject.¡± She pointed at him, angrily.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost noon. I better go open the safe before the lawyer arrives.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me here!¡±


    Once again, he closed the door on her.


    He headed for the library. At the stairs, he met one of Sarah¡¯s children.


    He was tall and lean, with sunken cheeks and an unhealthy complexion. His eyes were blue and clear, and Adam had the feeling he was a cold person.


    ¡°Forgive me,¡± he said. ¡°I believe we were not introduced yet.¡± He offered his hand. ¡°Joseph Good.¡±


    Adam shook his hand. ¡°Adam Good.¡±


    Joseph let a small laugh escape. ¡°I did not imagine you would introduce yourself as Good.¡±


    ¡°I am, after all, vying for his inheritance here.¡±


    Joseph fell silent. ¡°I suppose so. Truly, I¡¯d wish to not use the name Good myself if I could help it, nothing good ever came out of this name. But I understand.¡±


    ¡°I feel for your bad relationship with your father.¡±


    Joseph stared at him, unblinking. His silence lasted several seconds. ¡°Have you really nothing to do with what happened to Evelynn?¡±


    Adam frowned. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Joseph said, walking up the stairs. ¡°It was just a question. Goodbye, Adam.¡±


    Adam took one last look at his back and continued down the stairs.


    ¡°By the way,¡± Joseph said, making Adam turn around at him. ¡°Do you really need that notebook?¡±


    Adam stopped, surprised. Joseph took a good, long look upon Adam¡¯s face, smirked, and left.


    Adam stood there a moment longer, feeling frustration, then unexplainable anger. He continued to the library, opened the room, and then opened the safe.


    He was made a fool of. The realization filled him unbridled anger. A cooler part of his brain understood Joseph was somewhat aware of what happened. What did he know?


    Within were more books. He looked quickly over them and searched for something that looked like a certificate. He found it. It was his birth certificate, declaring Oliver his father and some unimportant nobody his mother.

 Chapter 9 - Breakdown

    Breakdown


    Was he actually Oliver¡¯s son and not just a pretender? The question gnawed at him. It certainly seemed so. The two were eerily similar, and judging by what was in this room and what he saw Mary do, the two also shared rather unsavory interests.


    A bastard then? Born out of wedlock? Evelynn acted to suggest as much. Necessary as this document might be, however, it told him little. What interest would Pence have in his family squabble? Even if he planned to murder John to receive a larger inheritance, as he supposed his plans with Alexandra suggested, that money would belong to him not Pence.


    A small realization: did he plan to murder all his siblings?


    The fact that it didn¡¯t seem too far-fetched troubled him. This land was worth a lot of money. This house, too, was flourishing with new furniture and exquisite items on display. Oliver probably had a sizable amount of money in the bank. And Mr. Pence suggested some plan involving the woodland surrounding the manor. The two men he murdered declared themselves woodsmen too.


    No. Adam shook his head. He hadn''t murdered them. He hadn''t murdered anyone...but he had hadn''t he? No. Better not to think about it


    If Pence wanted these two dead, they should have a finished deal with Oliver, or planned one with his children about these forested lands. Were they a lumbering company? But why have Pence instead of them? Would it matter which company harvested the lands?


    He thought of Evelynn, lying in bed, catatonic. Was it possible to kill a person in that place of dreams? How would he even get caught, if he could kill people in such unnatural ways?


    The ceiling shook slightly. Many feet were treading above.


    He returned to the front hall.


    ¡ì


    A stranger in a striped suit was speaking with Sarah. He was tall, thin, old, and nearly bald with only thin white hair growing at the sides of his head. Sarah saw Adam, and the stranger turned around with her to look at him.


    The stranger started. He opened his mouth in a sort of daze as if he couldn¡¯t believe what stood before his eyes.


    ¡°This is Adam,¡± Sarah said, ¡°Oliver¡¯s son.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± the man said, blinking, bewildered. ¡°Err, sorry.¡±


    ¡°Why are you apologizing? Adam, this is Jackson. He is the lawyer in charge of the proceedings. He worked for Oliver, and agreed to take on his inheritance proceedings.¡±


    ¡°I am Adam.¡± They shook hands. Jackson seemed spooked by him.


    ¡°I was just telling Jackson what a troublesome event has happened to Evelynn. He agreed that it would be better to delay the proceedings until she is well.¡±


    Adam was surprised. ¡°That is very considerate of you.¡±


    She harrumphed. ¡°Of course it is. She may not like me, but I never hated her. Although I imagine you do not believe me.¡±


    Adam though for a moment, and realized she was probably right. ¡°You said her children might not be Oliver¡¯s.¡±


    She laughed raucously, as one would expect of an elderly person. ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes up on that. Evelynn wasn¡¯t that stupid. It was just a mean joke I made because it gets to her.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little cruel?¡±


    Sarah raised an eyebrow. ¡°What is a joke, if not cruel? Goodbye, Mr. Jackson. I¡¯m sorry you had to come up here for nothing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, never mind that. It couldn¡¯t be helped.¡± He raised his head at the stairs.


    Adam heard the commotion and turned around.


    Evelynn was being carried on a stretcher by two paramedics. Her children surrounded her. John caught sight of Adam and frowned. The older of his sisters came down to meet Mr. Jackson.


    ¡°Mr. Jackson, have you come to talk about the inheritance?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Ah, yes.¡± Jackson stopped observing Evelynn, and looked at her daughter. ¡°Louis, it¡¯s been a long time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you Mr. Jackson,¡± she said, smiling and nodding toward her husband, who walked after her. ¡°This is my husband.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you married, what a joyous occasion.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± she said. ¡°This is Thomas Sullivan, my husband. Thomas, Mr. Jackson. He was my father¡¯s attorney.¡±


    ¡°I shall take my leave,¡± Adam said, taking off.


    ¡°Oh, it was my pleasure,¡± the lawyer said to him, perhaps understanding that he and the rest of the family were likely on bad terms.


    Adam returned a moment later.


    ¡°Something else, Mr. Adam?¡± Jackson asked.


    ¡°I had forgotten. I have a birth certificate declaring Oliver as my father,¡± he told the lawyer. ¡°It¡¯s right here.¡± He showed him the document. ¡°I was wondering if it¡¯ll be important.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Oliver didn¡¯t consult me for this,¡± he grumbled, taking the document out of Adam¡¯s hands. ¡°Would you like me to hold it for now?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    ¡°What!¡± Louis screamed, looking at the document. She whipped her head in Adam¡¯s direction with a powerful glare.


    ¡°You are a lot like John,¡± Adam said. ¡°I bid you all farewell.¡±


    Some bitter words were muttered at his back. He paid them no mind.


    ¡ì


    He retreated to the library. There he freely pored over Oliver¡¯s journal as he had over his own the previous day, deciding it was better to be away from the rest of the family for the moment.


    The journal was filled with anecdotes about his family and events and places wholly unconnected to one another. It seemed almost fictitious, but why would Oliver write anything like that?


    It was only after the fifth page that he realized the journal was written in the same language as the scroll he found in the secret room. Several subjects called to Adam. The dream, the winter sun, the singer, the forest of bats, the unseen rites, the mirrored ones, the fog.


    His head hurt. His eyes hurt. He heard a beautiful, tranquil humming, almost like singing¡­


    ¡­there was a room filled with books up to the ceiling, and what a high ceiling it was! It was a round room, and in the center stood a spiral staircase. He ascended the stairs and came upon a telescope pointed to the skies. The stars were beautiful and sad. In the same room was a small desk. Above it were some papers and an inkpot. On the ground lay an old pen. He took the papers, feeling a dreadful exhilaration as he did so, and fled¡­


    ¡­the walls were moldy. The room had an infiltration problem, but it was no matter. He laid the writing over the table and read. He couldn¡¯t contain his smile. He was overcome with joy. As night arrived, he lighted a lamp and continued to read. But he needed to experiment as well¡­


    The door opened.


    Adam looked up.


    Mary stood at the entrance.


    He felt cold sweat flowing down his back as she walked his way. It was childish, but he wanted to avoid talking to her, fearing she had realized his loss of memory.


    ¡°You never came back.¡± She looked around the room, nervously. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Recalling some old memories, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Must be a lot of work.¡± She paused and kneaded her temple. She was sweating. ¡°You are¡­you¡­¡± her words faltered, and her head drooped with a deep moan.


    She stumbled against the wall.


    Adam watched mutely, unable to think, much less move.


    She slipped to the floor, limp as a ragdoll.


    He was confused at first, and then he was frightened. He jumped from the chair, hurrying to her side. Panicked, he felt her forehead. It was burning in fever.


    ¡°You¡­I¡­sorry,¡± she mumbled, weakly in his arms before closing her eyes.


    Adam panicked and slapped her face to wake her up.


    He took a deep breath and calmed down. He searched for her cellphone to call over an ambulance. His hand was shaking.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    Adam almost jumped back in shock. It was the younger of Evelynn¡¯s daughter, whose name should be Delilah. She looked at Mary and her eyes widened.


    ¡°She collapsed,¡± Adam explained, swallowing a lump down his throat.


    Delilah crouched near Mary. ¡°Leave her there. Don¡¯t move her. Have you called an ambulance?¡±


    ¡°I am trying to.¡± Adam sighed deeply, trying to hold the phone but it seemed made of oil. It slipped from his hands. He felt terrible. ¡°This is my fault,¡± he said. ¡°She was not feeling well ever since morning. I should have paid more attention.¡±


    He touched her forehead, watching her fluttering eyelids, her rasping breathing. She was in pain.


    ¡°What am I gonna do?!¡±


    ¡°Calm down,¡± Delilah said, touching his arm. ¡°I¡¯ll call an ambulance.¡±


    After calling one, she sat on the floor beside him.


    Adam sat there, holding his wife close, feeling as if he was about to lose it. He was scared and had no idea what to do. He felt immensely thankful for Delilah not leaving him alone until the ambulance arrived.

 Chapter 10 - Cloud

    Cloud


    Mary was carried to the hospital in an ambulance.


    Adam drove there in her car, fretting more than he thought he ought to for someone he barely knew.


    After she was examined by a doctor they settled her on a bed and left her sleeping.


    Adam was sitting beside her, wondering if he loved her.


    He caressed her hair and felt her responding to his touch. At least she did not seem in pain.


    ¡°What did the doctors say?¡± Delilah asked, standing by the door, strangely contrite, too timid to enter the room.


    Adam looked at her over his shoulder. She still had a worried countenance as she looked at him. ¡°They said she collapsed from exhaustion.¡±


    Delilah peered over to see Mary¡¯s face as she slept, still not entering the room. ¡°I was with John a while ago,¡± she said. ¡°They said the same thing about mom. Exhaustion and stress.¡± She stared at Mary, contemplative. ¡°This is really bizarre.¡±


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Adam said, sighing.


    ¡°Adam,¡± she began, but stopped short at his name.


    He waited. She seemed in a struggle to say something. He predicted she would say something weird.


    ¡°I am sorry about John.¡±


    Adam touched his face, where John had punched him. She winced as if she herself had been hit.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Adam told her.


    ¡°He was stressed, but there was no call to hit you like that. Does it hurt?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a stressful situation. Besides, he really hits like a girl,¡± he joked.


    She tried not to, but smiled anyway. She covered it with her hands and blushed. She was quite adorable.


    ¡°Delilah, what are you doing here?¡± Alexandra arrived, heels clicking on the floor, displaying an overbearing attitude. She was dressed in a long, low-cut, sleeveless red dress.


    ¡°I came to see how Adam is doing,¡± Delilah said, defensively.


    Alexandra glanced Adam¡¯s way, then toward Mary. For a moment her expression shifted uncertainly, but she soon regained her arrogant face.


    ¡°John is looking for you.¡±


    Delilah didn¡¯t seem pleased with parting. ¡°I¡¯d rather be here a little longer.¡±


    One of Alexandra¡¯s eyebrows twitched in such a singular way that Adam almost heard her screaming at Delilah. Instead, she smiled, though there was no humor to it. ¡°Have it you own way.¡±


    With a last look at Adam, she went back. She probably had been hoping to speak with him in private. He was glad Delilah stopped her.


    ¡°The two of you don¡¯t get along?¡± Adam asked.


    Delilah shook her head, and gave an embarrassed titter. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± She looked away, wistfully. ¡°I and John used to be close until they started dating.¡± She smiled, shyly. ¡°And she always was so arrogant. I guess it was jealousy that created our animosity.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit childish.¡±


    She blushed. ¡°Yeah I think it¡¯s childish as well.¡± She coughed, maybe to dispel away the embarrassment. ¡°Well, I think I still wouldn¡¯t like her either way. She¡¯s not a good person.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Adam said, truthfully. He looked back at Delilah and suddenly remembered a memory of her when she was younger, wearing an out of fashion big white ribbon.


    He contemplated the memory, but could not make much out of it. ¡°I thought you hated me.¡±


    She widened her eyes, surprised, but soon showed understanding. ¡°Because my mother and brother hate you?¡±


    ¡°And your sister.¡±


    She sighed. She scratched her hair, having trouble to continue speaking. ¡°She¡­doesn¡¯t really hate you. She just hates that you exist.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Adam nodded. ¡°That makes me feel better.¡±


    ¡°And you really didn¡¯t need to talk the way you did when mom¡­when what happened with her¡­happened.¡±


    Adam though on it, and decided she was probably correct. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Please forgive me.¡± He lowered his head.


    When he raised his head again, she had a troubled expression that was hard to read. She laughed, rather prettily. ¡°Looking at you,¡± she began with a grin, ¡°is just like looking at father. Even the way you two speak is the same.¡±


    Adam pondered what she meant by that. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry! It¡¯s a good thing! I¡¯ll see mom now. It was good speaking with you, brother.¡± She winked at him and left.


    He played a little with Mary¡¯s hair, listening to the footsteps on the corridor outside the room and the ambivalent rhythm of the hospital: times of near absolute calmness intertwined with bouts of shouts and screams.


    Eventually he drifted to sleep.


    Adam had a dream where he could see, hear and walk about as if it was all real. He was lost, wandering in a dark forest. He followed a voice singing in a language he couldn¡¯t quite understand but was not completely foreign either.


    After a trek that was not long, but not short, He came upon a clearing, a circular field of grass in the middle of which was a large circular stone, and upon the stone sat a small, indefinite silhouette of light in the shape of a person. Though he could see the figure, and all its parts¡ªhands, nose, long hair, eyes¡ªthey refused to form into a whole in his mind, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn¡¯t picture how it looked like.


    Blue and white motes of light danced around the creature like fireflies. At the edges of his vision, indistinct silhouettes shuffled, obscured by shadowy trees, watching him with red eyes.


    ¡°Thou hast come once again to mine demesne?¡± the figure stopped singing to speak. It tilted its head, minutely. ¡°Alack, thou art filled with winter. ¡®Tis worrisome. Thou should take more care. Feeble and unknowledgeable, even these young ones can make ripples fierce enough to drift thee away. Do not forget mine bodkin. I wish thee good fortune.¡±


    He opened his eyes and saw the white ceiling of the hospital room. His head hurt.


    He felt a presence, like a cold breeze blowing over his shoulder.


    He whipped his head around, but there was nothing there.


    He frowned, confused. He decided his overtaxed mind was playing tricks on him.


    He felt hungry. He saw on the clock that he had slept for about thirty minutes. He decided to have lunch, but his feet did not move. He looked at Mary, feeling a strange pang of guilt that didn¡¯t fade even as he left the room.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡ì


    During his late lunch, he again felt a presence looking at him, but as he turned, he saw John this time.


    John walked his way, appearing as if he had just come out of horror story. His eyes were haggard, bloodshot, and strangely keen. His hair was disheveled. His clothes were in disarray. He shuffled more than walked, and there was something frenetic about his feet. He also smelled of¡­something strange, like mint, sugar, iron and many other things. It washed off of him in thick waves.


    He sat before Adam, setting his cup of coffee on the table.


    ¡°Hello John,¡± Adam greeted him when the silence was about to become uncomfortable.


    ¡°I think I made a mistake,¡± John said, nervously.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Adam felt more than a little confused.


    ¡°I should not have treated you as an enemy,¡± he continued. ¡°It was not right. You are, too, one of my father¡¯s children, after all.¡±


    ¡°You seem nervous.¡±


    John glared at him with hatred. The next moment, it vanished like a flickering lamp. ¡°It¡¯s a terrible accident what happened to my mother and your wife.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He drank the coffee. ¡°I said some pretty embarrassing things before, and I¡¯d like to apologize for them.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Adam said. ¡°I take it this means you think I had nothing to do with what happened to your mother.¡±


    He laughed, though there was a certain edge to it. ¡°No, I don¡¯t. It was just the stress talking. You know how these things can be.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Adam said.


    John kept sitting there as though there was something more to say but he could not bring himself to say it.


    ¡°Is there anything else?¡± Adam prompted, after a while.


    John started. He stared at Adam with distrust, but then, as if forcing himself, calmed down. ¡°No, nothing¡­just,¡± a small, strange, strained smile came up his lips, ¡°I hope your wife gets well soon.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Adam said.


    John smiled widely, and excused himself. Strange as the conversation had been, Adam put it out of mind promptly, and ate the rest of his lunch while wondering whether or not he loved his wife.


    She did not have lunch, and he wondered whether he should get something for her when she woke up. Presently, another worry emerged: would she wake up?


    He had no explanation to what happened to her. He recalled the notebook he himself had written. Perhaps the book could explain it. He revised the notes again. Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, many things that were previously hard to grasp, he could now understand better. Several drawings were in fact rituals similar to the one Mary did.


    ¡°Adam,¡± a voice called.


    Adam lifted his head from the book and hid it away. It was Mr. Pence, coming over with a long stride. How did he know Adam was in the hospital again?


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Pence.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Come on, Adam. Call me Rick.¡±


    ¡°Strange to see you here.¡±


    ¡°And why would it be?¡± Pence asked with a laugh that made his fat chin quiver. ¡°I heard your wife collapsed. She seemed like a strong woman, but I guess even she could not take all the pressure going your way.¡± He paused. ¡°I do hope that was all it was.¡±


    Adam had no proof, but he felt Pence was not in the know about the strange supernatural event. He should have asked Mary. And who had told him Mary collapsed?


    ¡°That is all it is, Mr. Pence.¡±


    ¡°Great. And how are our plans coming along?¡±


    ¡°I am not sure yet.¡±


    Pence raised an eyebrow and gave an unamused lop-sided smile. ¡°How can you not be sure yet?¡±


    Adam thought about it. He was probably being a little too rude. He should act more subservient. ¡°There is much at stake. I¡¯d rather not take risks I can avoid. I¡¯m very sorry about this.¡±


    Pence seemed appeased. He smiled, grandly. ¡°Good. As long as you acquire the deed of the property by the end of next week, everything will run smooth. In any case, this is why I took the opportunity to see you here.¡± He took a file out of his suitcase. He showed documents to Adam. ¡°As you can see the property covers a god deal of forest and has easy access to all the forests surrounding Lamplight. They¡¯ll never realize that we are harvesting from protected lands. Once we are done with the family, everything will be quite legal.¡±


    ¡°Quite legal?¡±


    ¡°Well, you know, legal for the most part.¡± He rubbed his fingers in a rather disgusting gesture. ¡°Well-meaning bribes to oil the gears of a restrictive economy. So how do you feel about this?¡±


    Adam thought he wouldn¡¯t understand the documents since he had lost his memory. He was wrong; he understood them, and they spoke of some rather unbelievable amounts of money to him and whoever harvested all that wood. As expected, he planned to harvest the wood. Was wood really that profitable?


    ¡°I feel motivated,¡± he said, making Pence laugh.


    The lamp on the ceiling flickered. Pence looked upward, annoyed. The lamp flickered once more. It was not the only one, Adam realized when he saw many lights along the corridors flicker just the same.


    He felt something strange in the air. Pence continued to talk, but the sensation that he felt demanded his attention more than him. A cold air seeped within the place. Adam felt goosebumps. He looked over his shoulder. Naturally, no one was there.


    ¡°Is it getting colder in here?¡± Pence observed, shivering.


    Adam observed a strange phenomenon. John¡¯s cup of coffee wrinkled. It tumbled and rolled of the table. It shook then ripped apart.


    Adam stood, suddenly filled with a terrible sense of impending doom.


    Pence flinched. Before he could open his mouth Adam told him he would see Mary now, and that they should part ways, then left without waiting for an answer.


    Adam walked hastily down the corridors and up the stairs, to Mary¡¯s room, passing staff and patients, some of which shouted at him.


    On a corridor on the third floor, he stopped, realizing the strangeness of the place.


    The floor was empty and gloomy. Silence hovered over the place. The lights were dim as if covered by a filter.


    His feet felt heavy as he walked, as though he were wading through shallow water. He looked down and saw the most bizarre thing that he had seen yet. The floor was covered up to his knees in a sort of mist, more transparent than common mist, and uncommonly heavy. It had been invisible from afar, but now that he was in the middle of it he could see the sheet of abnormal mist.


    He was then doubly surprised by the realization that the mist had perfectly covered several bodies lying over the floor. From afar, he could not see them at all.


    ¡°What the hell is this?!¡±


    He crouched to lift one of them, a doctor. She was unconscious, and would not wake up even when slapped her in the face repeatedly.


    Adam had no idea what was going on, but the mist had a strange oppressive quality to it. He shivered.


    He ran down the corridor toward Mary¡¯s room, spurned by a feeling of dread.


    Before the door to her room something incredibly weird was happening.


    Through the gaps in the door, white mist seeped and settled on the floor like a viscous liquid.


    He turned the knob but the door refused to open. ¡°Mary!¡± he shouted, banging on it.


    Desperate, he slammed his shoulder against the door repeatedly, until the hinges gave in and the entire door fell inward.


    He almost couldn¡¯t see over the heavy cloud of mist that had enveloped the room. Mary lied on the bed, choking and coughing in her sleep as if something held her by the neck.


    No, something was holding her by the neck.


    It was transparent, but Adam could make out a strange, round, tall silhouette standing beside the bed. Its smoke-like arms stretched over Mary, and its amorphous head without eyes turned around as if to look at Adam.


    His heart beat hard within his chest, his legs buckled, his vision expanded as if to see all that was before him. Slowly, very slowly, he saw the thing move away from her, then all of a sudden it rushed toward him so fast he couldn¡¯t muster any reaction.


    It was like being hit by a truck. He felt his chest cave in with an unpleasant sounding crack. His back hit the wall, and he fell to the floor on his knees.


    He retched on the floor and looked up.


    The thing lifted an arm and swung down.


    Adam instinctively lifted his arms to defend himself. He felt his forearm breaking at the immense weight of the mass of clouds.


    Burn it.


    He rolled away, and went for the doorway.


    It stood still for a time as if not knowing what to do, then rushed after him.


    Adam ran with all his might, but the thing was much faster and soon caught up with him in the corridor.


    Burn it.


    It caught Adam, lifting him by the collar and swirled its hands around his neck, choking him.


    Adam tried to punch the creature, but his hands passed through the thing like it was made of mist. Strangely his, shoulders hurt more than his neck.


    The light above them flickered intensely, and in the intertwining darkness Adam fancied a pair of angry, red eyes looking at him from within the mass of clouds as his vision slowly faded.


    He got his pistol and shot the thing twice.


    It immediately let go of him, and Adam fell to the ground as the creature retreated a few steps. The bullets, however, had passed harmlessly through it and hit the floor.


    The creature seemed to look at himself with curiosity, and even turned around to see the bullet holes. It seemed to decide bullets were harmless in the time Adam took to run away.


    Burn it!


    ¡°Stop telling me to burn it, I heard you the first time!¡±


    Then why aren¡¯t you burning it?!


    Adam entered a room, closed the door and put a chair under the doorknob to prevent it from opening.


    Massive amounts of mist seeped in through the cracks and began to coalesce on the floor. The creature, it seemed, had a rather unique way of entering closed spaces.


    Bodies were lying on the floor of the room, and a glass cabinet full of various liquids hung from the wall. He shot the cabinet and began looking for a bottle of alcohol.


    While the mass of clouds gathered behind him, he ripped a piece of cloth out of a bedsheet and made a makeshift molotov with an alcohol bottle.


    He took out the ornamental knife he had taken from the monster bat, planning to use it and the pistol to make some sparks. But as soon as the blade touched the cloth, it caught on fire.


    He almost burned himself in surprise, but hastily threw the bottle at the door. It spread through the mass of clouds as though it was made of dry grass, and burned continuously as a strange sound, like voice inside water, escaped from it.


    Finally!


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Adam fell to the floor as the thing burnt away, and the sheet of mist that covered the floor vanished.


    He caught his breath and walked toward Mary¡¯s room, passing by several bodies lying on the floor.


    Mary lay on the bed, sleeping like a damsel.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Adam told her.


    You told me to shut up, she mumbled, sounding half-angry, half-shocked.

 Chapter 11 - Spider

    Spider


    It was possibly the weirdest day Adam could recall. Admittedly, not many. Mary lay before him, eyes closed, breathing quietly, and speaking inside his head as if she were just beside him.


    No, she was beside him. He could faintly see a blurry silhouette floating through the air.


    I called you so many times. Why didn¡¯t you arrive sooner? I was almost dead!


    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Adam, approaching her body. He sat beside her, and fixed her hair out of her face.


    Stop playing with my hair!


    Adam sighed. ¡°What did I marry you for, if I can¡¯t even play with your hair?¡±


    She said nothing. The silence was somewhat overwhelming. Adam tried to see the floating silhouette. It was still there, transparent, formless.


    ¡°It was a joke.¡±


    I know. I am not dumb!


    ¡°Can you explain what just happened?¡± he asked.


    Asking some strange questions aren¡¯t you?


    Adam sighed. He was rather tired of playing this game.


    Never mind, she continued, we don¡¯t have time now. You should leave this place before the people outside wake up, or you¡¯ll look suspicious. Try not to be seen.


    ¡°The lack of explanation is killing me,¡± Adam grumbled, standing up.


    You really want one? It was John, of course. He passed by here reeking of dreams and making expository comments. Never though he had it in him. Well, maybe it¡¯s just to be expected of someone with your blood. Still, a cloud is a rather troublesome being, and all this collateral damage will not be overlooked. I expect dire consequences for him. And for us, if you don¡¯t leave soon.


    The disembodied chuckle she left at the end was both eerie and fascinating in its impossibility. Adam wondered, was she actually speaking and he heard it inside of his head, or was she speaking from inside his head? Either way, she seemed unable to read his thoughts, and for that, he was thankful.


    Don¡¯t forget to put a protection around the hospital. Don¡¯t be a cheapskate; I want at least a spider-protection. There is something weird around me.


    Adam agreed to whatever she said, knowing only slightly what she meant. He left, and the blurry silhouette accompanied him. It was a projected avatar. He was pretty sure he knew how to do it as well.


    Adam walked back to the first floor using the stairs. Everyone around him seemed rather calm for all the commotion that happened above.


    After a certain distance, she lost the ability to speak and became less material. She couldn¡¯t go beyond a certain point and waved him a farewell he could barely see. He almost waved back, but there were people around, and he felt crazy enough already.


    Mary¡¯s car that he had taken in place of riding the ambulance in order not to be stranded waited for him in a nearby parking lot. There, he tried to collect his thoughts.


    John had done it, she said. He wondered if that was true, feeling mildly lost. It probably was. He couldn¡¯t think of a reason why Mary would lie about that, and it made sense. John could summon some kind of cloud monster, but from the way Mary spoke, he couldn¡¯t do it well.


    Still, to think John could do it. Adam felt shock at the idea. In hindsight, the last conversation between the two seemed laced with poison.


    Could the other members of the family do the same? It was a real and frightening possibility. Then, he recalled Evelynn, helpless in a world that seemed to be made of dreams and the reaction of the others in the midst of John¡¯s accusations when Evelynn crumpled. It seemed unlikely. In fact, it seemed plausible that John kept it a secret.


    Did Alexandra know?


    It was a headache to think of all the possibilities.


    Adam took the journal out and read it. Many rituals were written within with such excruciating detail it seemed fashioned for an amnesiac. He found the page on spider-protection, a rite to summon a homely spider; it would spin its web around a building and bit off any unwanted intruder. It seemed helpful enough.


    He remembered the death¡ªwas it dead?¡ªof the cloud. He took the knife and, hesitantly, touched the metal. It was cold. He read the symbols. They were four: Melodist, fire, light, and mirror.


    He twirled the knife, wonderingly.


    He held the dagger tightly, and willed it to burn. The symbol for fire began to glow, and the knife became hot. It was so hot that the interior of the car became hot as well. He willed it to stop and it did.


    What a curious, obviously magical, contraption.


    He read a bit on the spider rite, but still had questions. Would he need to be close to hospital for it to work? It seemed he also needed several materials that he couldn¡¯t remember, but probably were in his room in the mansion.


    ¡ì


    He drove as fast as he could, but it was already evening when he arrived.


    The gates of the mansion were closed. He pressed the intercom, realizing he had no key.


    ¡°Hello.¡± Alexandra answered.


    ¡°It¡¯s Adam, open the door.¡±


    There was a moment of silence. ¡°You¡¯re pretty late, aren¡¯t you? Taking care of your pretty wife?¡±


    ¡°Open the door, Alexandra. I don¡¯t have time for this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so it¡¯s ¡®Alexandra¡¯ now!¡± He heard a hissing sound from the other side. ¡°You¡¯re a bastard.¡±


    ¡°Probably true.¡±


    He heard a commotion on the other side. Eventually, the gates opened, and he drove in.


    He met Delilah at the door.


    ¡°You opened the door.¡±


    She sighed, glancing at Alexandra leaning against the wall. ¡°She always was a difficult person to deal with. Sorry about that.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, thanks.¡± Adam gave her a fast hug that left her somewhat bewildered and entered the house.


    He walked to his room, but before the door, he found John.


    John was standing before the door, trying the doorknob, an unsettling expression on his face.


    He felt anger. This man. This thing tried to kill Mary. He almost couldn¡¯t hold back the urge to impale him and burn his body. But good sense prevented him. He would leave a corpse.


    John turned at him. He widened his eyes and palled as if he had seen a ghost.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Adam asked, walking in his direction even though it was pretty clear he was trying to break in. He stopped.


    John was reaching for something on his hip. A gun?


    The two faced each other for a while.


    Adam wondered about his own gun. Should he shoot first?


    ¡°What is happening?¡± Sarah asked, coming from the corner.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± John said. He gave Adam a nasty glance, and walked away.


    Until he turned the corner, Sarah did not take her eyes off him.


    Then, she and Adam met eyes, and a weird silence descended.


    ¡°Wait here for a while,¡± Adam told her, entering the room.


    He took the large trunk full of small cases, and the one with his clothes. Next, he ripped an empty piece of paper off his journal and wrote Mary¡¯s phone number. ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving the house for a while,¡± he explained to Sarah. ¡°Call me on this number for the next meeting with Jackson.¡±


    She nodded.


    He came back down. The front hall was empty, but he heard Alexandra and Delilah having a loud discussion on the porch.


    He remembered that John was the one who showed Alexandra the secret room, and wondered if he had been there recently.


    He went to check. The book that had been above the table had vanished. He took a brief look around and decided more than a few books had left their shelves.


    Was the rite to summon a cloud monster concealed in one of them?


    Adam gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath. It was probably hypocritical of him to be angry at John, and he wondered how much he was justified for his vendetta. He shook his head, deciding not to think about it.


    He took books at random and stuffed them in his trunk together with his clothes. Justified or not, he would rather John did not have more knowledge on these strange rites.


    He left the secret room to come face to face with a very surprised Delilah and her husband having a clearly secret conversation in the previously empty library.


    ¡°There¡¯s a moving wall here?¡± her husband asked.


    ¡°I never knew this was here!¡± Delilah gaped at the room, trying to peek inside.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t?¡± Adam asked. ¡°I thought it was common knowledge among your family. Your father hid the books he wanted no one to know he read here. Very nasty stuff. You don¡¯t want to see it.¡±


    She pouted. Her husband chuckled.


    ¡°What were you doing in there?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Taking some of these same books for some self-satisfaction since my wife is in the hospital.¡±


    She shut her eyes and grinded her teeth, but the smile crept up her lips nonetheless. ¡°Why are you carrying these trunks?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to a hotel for a few days, until Mary is up again. Well, goodbye.¡±


    He closed the secret room and left the two to their own devices.


    He wondered what Delilah¡¯s reaction at seeing the books would be.


    In the front hall, Lucas was drinking tea, looking particularly troubled. He started at Adam, and stared at his trunks, inquisitively.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to a hotel for a few days,¡± Adam explained.


    Lucas nodded, grimly. ¡°It¡¯s probably for the best. Everyone is really upset around here.¡±


    Adam headed for the door. But Lucas¡¯ gaze upon him, morose and uncertain, troubled him. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked the youth.


    Lucas gulped, and began to speak.


    At the same moment, John descended the stairs. He looked at his Lucas and scowled at Adam.


    Whatever Lucas wanted to say, he swallowed.


    Without any word being said, Adam understood that a conversation could not be held any longer and took his leave.


    He passed Alexandra, leaning against the wall outside. She looked up at him, a pleading gaze. Adam ignored her.


    ¡ì


    It was dark when he arrived in town. He booked a room at a hotel near the hospital, and explained to an intrigued receptionist that his wife was admitted to the nearby hospital and since Good¡¯s manor was too far, he would rather be here.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re Oliver¡¯s son!¡± the receptionist said, ecstatically. ¡°You look just like him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    In the room, he read the rite of the homely spider.


    He felt silly. Was he about to try and do a magic ritual? The idea was somewhat ridiculous, but he could make a knife burn, and enter dreams. Clearly something supernatural was happening. Why not try to understand it?


    He drew a circle and several symbols with a special chalk that smelled faintly of sulfur that he found in one of the cases. He drew the symbol ¡®to call upon,¡¯ and the symbol to ¡®request,¡¯ then several others: spider, web, defender, seer, light, rot.


    He placed a perfectly square piece of silk in the middle of the symbols, and the rotten bark of an old tree above it. He dipped his fingers in a cup of water and drew a circle of water surrounding both.


    He dipped his fingers in wax and drew other symbols in the air. At this point, something he called a rift was supposed to appear, but it didn¡¯t.


    He felt nervous, wondering what had gone wrong. He read the part again, frenetically, but his journal explained what he was to do in a matter-of-fact tone that left nothing open for interpretation.


    Sweat flowed down his forehead and back.


    A chilly wind came from the open window.


    He calmed himself and tried again. He recalled how he made the knife burn. This time he focused his mind fully on the precise movements of his fingers, and on what he wanted to happen.


    The air rippled before him as though a piece of space had been pressed against by some unseen force, and relented. His fingers left indentions that rippled as if the air were water, but more gelatinous.


    It left a lasting impression, but he maintained his focus and finished the drawing, then he let out a breath he hadn¡¯t noticed he was holding.


    Before him stood a symbol that couldn¡¯t be drawn on a page despite his best efforts on the journal. It stayed in place like a floating piece of glass with a weird shape, as if waiting. It was a strange thing and refracted light unnaturally as it passed through it.


    The last item was something from another case. It was a milk-white pigment that at first glance looked muddled, but on close inspection was clear as moonlight. According to the journal, it was actual moonlight and he had no idea how he had gotten a hold of it.


    He let the pigment trickle over the symbol; it moved in impossible directions as the two came in contact, but eventually dripped down on the branch and silk.


    It all mixed together until it looked like a slow-falling, small waterfall, and then light poured out of it. It all congealed together and in place of the symbol appeared a single spider, as large as a hand, staring at Adam, extremely still, but appearing to possess remarkable intelligence.


    Adam felt curious, then felt like asking what he wanted. Then, he felt like asking why he was asking what he wanted. Then, he felt like he was speaking to an idiot.


    No, it was not him, he realized. It was the spider. It was communicating to his mind without using words. It surprised him, and the spider thought he was funny for thinking that.


    Either way, the spider was tremendously friendly. The spider wondered how he was doing recently.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing fine,¡± he said.


    The spider was confused at first, but understood his words. It just was not sure why he didn¡¯t convey his messages with his mind.


    He extended his hand, and the spider climbed on it, wondering if it should spin its web around.


    He told it shouldn¡¯t yet. It should do it somewhere else.


    It complied. It was very obedient.


    Adam concealed the spider on his clothes, and left for the hospital.


    ¡ì


    He stood before the wall of the edifice, in a lonesome place, and asked the spider if it could spin its web around the entire building.


    It could.


    He let the spider walk on the wall, and told it to do so.


    Dutifully, the spider began the spin a web that seemed made of light. The strings were thin, unaffected by the wind, and seemed to grow by themselves like the branches of a tree. The web stretched fast, and Adam soon saw it disappear toward the other side of the building.


    He touched the web, his hand phased through it, not affecting it in the least.


    He walked around the edifice. Even apart, he realized, he could sense the spider at work, and knew exactly what it was doing and why. He could also call it back to him at will.


    The web was invisible to anyone but him. It was made of light, but if he so desired, or if the spider desired, it could become physical. It could be entangled around anyone who walked through it without their notice. The spider¡¯s bite would rot.


    He walked around the wall, inspecting the web idly as it grew to cover the walls.


    Suddenly, he came upon a stranger staring up the edifice¡¯s wall, similar to him. The stranger was dressed in a thick overcoat, and had on a mask that covered the lower part of his face. His hair was somewhat long for a man, but judging by the way he held himself, it couldn¡¯t be a woman.


    He turned toward Adam with watchful yellow eyes.


    The man sniffed twice.


    Adam walked past him, expression carefully blank.


    Both turned away from each other as though losing interest and Adam continued toward the parking lot.


    On his way, he felt the spider asking if it should kill that stranger if it entered.


    Adam thought about it. He looked up at the room where Mary was lying asleep on the third floor. He said yes.


    Soon enough, however, the spider told him the strange departed.


    Adam walked back to his car with the sensation that the man¡¯s eyes were on him still. Inside the car, Adam sniffed himself. There was no smell of dreams on him, he didn¡¯t think.

 Chapter 12 - Investigators

    Investigators


    Unwilling as one might be, so long as they are men, they must abide by the rules of men. One of these rules, is that when the law is broken, a trial attesting to the guilt or innocence of the involved is held and punishment given.


    In accordance to these rules, Adam went to trial next morning.


    Before the clerk, he saw Paul, probably there for the same reason as him. He thought about giving him a greeting. It was a fleeting thought, and he couldn¡¯t bring himself to act on it.


    The hearing was simple. The judge explained Adam¡¯s crimes and that he would not face jail time. He pled guilty and was sentenced to a fine. It was dry and boring.


    It was boring enough that he couldn¡¯t understand what led the four people who watched, sitting silently on the benches, to waste their time on it.


    They weren¡¯t particular to his trial, so he though they were just watching trials for curiosity¡¯s sake. Still, one of them, in an overcoat that was slightly too warm even for the snows they were having recently, caught his attention.


    He sat comfortably, with his hands crossed beneath his chin. His eyes hovered over Adam in a scrupulous way.


    Once the trial was over and Adam left the courthouse, the man slithered his way. Swarthy, slender and sinister. His eyes reminded Adam of a serpent and something in the way he walked and the way his hands moved was creepy.


    With an affable smile that did not suit the feelings Adam had for him he began a conversation. ¡°Forgive me for interrupting your day, but you are Adam Good, are you not?¡±


    ¡°I am. Who are you?¡±


    Adam¡¯s guarded manner did not deter him in the slightest. ¡°My name is Christopher Blake. I am an investigator. If possible, I¡¯d like to ask some questions.¡±


    For a moment Adam was silent, thinking.


    ¡°I assure you there¡¯s nothing to worry about, Mr. Adam.¡±


    ¡°Am I a suspect of something?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no.¡± Christopher held his hands in a placating gesture, smiling. He wore thick leather gloves. ¡°There are just a few questions I would like to ask, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°And what if I do mind?¡±


    He shrugged. His smile never faltered. ¡°Then I guess I¡¯ll have to search for answers somewhere else. However, if possible I¡¯d like to have a brief conversation with you. It¡¯ll only take five minutes, and you don¡¯t need to answer anything.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Adam studied the man for a moment. The way he held himself, full of confidence and slyness as if only he knew the secrets that bewildered others, was infuriating. He was a liar, but an uncommon kind of liar whose deceit relied in something other than words. His eyes were cold and unrelenting. He did not care if Adam accepted to speak with him or not and would likely come after Adam again, when he could press a conversation instead of having to ask.


    ¡°About what do you want to talk to me?¡± Adam asked.


    Christopher smiled. ¡°Do you read the news?¡±


    ¡°Not recently.¡±


    He unfolded a newspaper he had inside his coat and showed an article to Adam. It was about the attack on the hospital. ¡°I am investigating this.¡±


    Adam felt a chill. This was not completely unexpected, but still took him by surprise. It had not even been a full day since.


    ¡°Can you accompany me?¡± Christopher asked, gesturing toward a caf¨¦ on the other side of the street.


    Adam decided to speak with him. ¡°What about your friend?¡± Adam asked, pointing at a man who had been watching them from a distance. He recognized him at a glance as the same mysterious man he saw sniffing around the hospital; and that more than anything told him the two would not leave him in peace.


    Christopher looked back, and gave a phony smile. ¡°That¡¯s my partner.¡±


    The man approached. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, still wearing a hat and his face still half-hidden by a mask. He coughed. ¡°Philip,¡± he said in a rough, deep voice.


    Close as he was his tall stature and broad shoulders made him appear intimidating.


    ¡°A cold?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Philip said, curtly.


    ¡°Well, I take it you agree to speak with me briefly, yes?¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The three sat at the caf¨¦. Christopher asked if Adam wanted anything, but ordered nothing for himself. Neither did Adam.


    ¡°Your wife is in the hospital isn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± There was no point in denying that. ¡°She was admitted yesterday.¡±


    ¡°So you were there from¡­ about two to four o¡¯clock yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I think so.¡±


    A series of small questions followed. Philip said nothing, though his eyes never left Adam.


    ¡°What exactly is this all about?¡± Adam asked.


    Christopher stopped short for a moment. ¡°No one really knows. Apparently someone used a kind of gas to take out everyone on the third floor of the hospital and no one knows why. Could be a terrorist, could be a nutter, could be anyone.¡± He shrugged, easily.


    ¡°Sounds dangerous.¡±


    Christopher nodded. ¡°There was also some property damage. A burned door, and a few broken lamps.¡±


    ¡°Should you be telling me this?¡±


    He smiled strangely. ¡°I¡¯m not saying anything that isn¡¯t in the news.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes, really. The journalists arrived before us. Incidentally, they wrote those who fainted saw a ghost before passing out. Supernatural drivel, of course. The chemical might have been a hallucinogen.¡±


    ¡°Several people saw the same hallucination?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been said to happen.¡± Christopher shrugged.


    ¡°Sounds bizarre.¡±


    Christopher smiled widely. He seemed excited all of a sudden. ¡°My theory is that the specifics of hallucinations are caused by the thoughts of the person having it. If perhaps they were all speaking of a similar subject before it happened or all saw something that made them think of something in particular they¡¯d have similar hallucinations. For example, imagine that there is a tiger carpet on the floor of a room. It¡¯s eye-catching and bound to make people dwell on it, so if they all fall in a mood to have hallucinations, wouldn¡¯t it make sense for many of them to see a tiger?¡±


    Adam was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. ¡°Sounds possible.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not a doctor. I could be completely wrong,¡± Christopher continued, faking humility.


    ¡°But in that case, why a ghost?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a hospital¡± Christopher gestured airily. ¡°It¡¯s filled with medics and nurses all wearing white, and people¡¯s thought are filled with death.¡±


    Adam pretended to ponder it. ¡°You might be on to something.¡±


    Christopher nodded with his eyes closed, looking very sure of himself. ¡°I realize you are very calm for someone whose wife could have been the victim of an assault.¡±


    Adam frowned. ¡°If something had happened to her, I think you¡¯d have told me by now. Or the hospital for that matter.¡±


    ¡°The hospital tried to contact you actually. But you were not at home.¡±


    ¡°I slept in a hotel.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°To go see my wife in the morning,¡± he said, somewhat harshly.


    Christopher laughed. ¡°I might make you late then?¡±


    Adam sighed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. My wife is well, right?¡±


    ¡°As a matter of fact, she is.¡± For a moment, Christopher simply observed him. Then, he spoke again. ¡°You¡¯ve not been to see your wife since then?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Christopher said nothing. His smile continued plastered on his face.


    ¡°Is that all?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°There is another thing.¡±


    Adam sighed, audibly.


    Christopher chuckled. ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s a small question. You are one of Oliver Good¡¯s children, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°A recluse local landowner, recently deceased, left a large inheritance among an equally large number of children.¡±


    ¡°What can I say? He was like a rabbit.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha. Well, I¡¯ve seen some with as many as forty children. Anyway, that is all. Thank you for your time. Just to confirm, you saw no one suspicious while in the hospital, right?¡±


    Adam denied.


    Christopher rose. If anything, Adam felt the man was mildly disappointed. It seemed Adam had broken his expectations.


    His partner kept looking at him. It was unnerving.


    Adam went to the toilet.


    He had no business to take care of. What he wanted was an empty place where no one could see him. Inside the stall, he uttered choice words and waved his fingers as he focused.


    He felt space rippling before him. Then he saw the small spider on his finger. It was smaller than a thumb and at a glance looked like a common spider. He smelled the spider and himself, but detected no smell of dreams.


    This was a looking-spider. It did nothing but spy on people, but could only move as a normal spider did. According to the journal, the spider had no smell, and could hide from anyone.


    Adam rushed outside. He looked around, and saw Christopher and Philip arguing on the walkway. He walked toward them.


    Soon, Christopher noticed him, and waited. ¡°Something the matter?¡± he asked, amiably.


    The spider crawled down Adam¡¯s leg.


    ¡°I was wondering if there is anyone else in my family you are investigating.¡±


    Christopher blanked for a moment, but soon laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I should tell you that. But, well, we are.¡±


    The spider crawled on the ground.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t really say I¡¯m investigating you either. You are a witness, not a suspect. We are speaking with everyone who had been to the third floor of the hospital that day.¡±


    The spider climbed on his shoe.


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s fine then,¡± Adam said with a heartfelt sigh.


    ¡°Good. Farewell.¡±


    ¡°Farewell.¡±


    The two left right after. The spider went with them.


    Adam sat on the table were all of them were previously and ordered breakfast, and focused on the spider.


    ¡°Do you think he is clean?¡± Christopher asked. Adam heard him through the spider.


    ¡°He doesn''t smell of sorcery,¡± said Philip¡¯s deeper voice. Its sound sent a chill down Adam¡¯s back.


    ¡°But why would that cloud be in his wife¡¯s room?¡±


    ¡°Clouds are capricious,¡± Philip said. ¡°It may very well have been a whim.¡±


    ¡°The door to her room was broken as well.¡±


    ¡°You tried to make him mention that did you not?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and failed.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t summon a cloud without impregnating yourself in the stuff of dreams. I never thought it was him. I only mentioned him because he was wandering suspiciously around the hospital. I don¡¯t think it was someone present in the third floor either, that would be too suspicious. It might be anyone with a grudge on one of the patients on that ward. Hell, even someone with a grudge on the doctors or the staff.¡±


    ¡°Why would anyone in their right mind summon a cloud in a hospital?¡±


    There was a silence where all Adam could hear was the sound of the motor.


    ¡°You think it was an amateur?¡± Philip asked, gravely.


    ¡°Yes, that is what I think. Someone new to this, who doesn¡¯t understand how all of this works, or about us. Someone doing their first rites.¡±


    Another silence descended, and Adam heard nothing more from that spider.


    His breakfast arrived. He ate in silence, pondering over their words. They knew about the monster, and seemed to understand how it worked. They didn¡¯t know that Adam knew about these supernatural events too, but suspected him. What would they do, if they knew what he could do? Would they arrest him as a terrorist? What would they do if they discovered it was John who summoned that cloud, and what would that implicate for him and the other members of his family?


    There were many things to think about, and it seemed everything got more complicated by the minute.

 Chapter 13 - A brief conversation

    A brief conversation


    The bell rang when the door opened. A bell-ring for when doors open? Who still did that? Adam stopped in place, staring at the bell.


    The owner of the store lowered his book to look at him. ¡°Can I help?¡±


    ¡°Where is spider-man?¡±


    ¡°Which one?¡±


    After a brief conversation with the vendor about the various incarnations of spider-man, Adam took the next issue and bade him a farewell.


    He walked down the street from the store reading the comics. The wind was cold, but the sky was clear. His mind was full of worries.


    Next, he stopped to buy a cellphone.


    While he dealt with a long-winded shop assistant about the several unnecessary functions of his phone and the several plans of payment that he was not sure served any purpose, the spider spoke to him.


    It asked if it should kill a certain person.


    Who?


    No idea, but someone dangerous.


    The spider felt his disappointment at its lack of knowledge and asked forgiveness for its ignorance.


    He asked the spider to do so if said danger approached Mary.


    He drove to the hospital while bickering with the spider.


    He half-expected Mary¡¯s projection to greet him at the entrance, but she did not appear.


    As he walked to her room, he wondered if Evelynn was still around. He felt he had the answer when he saw Delilah before Mary¡¯s room.


    Adam was surprised to find her speaking with Joseph. He hastened his pace.


    Joseph turned toward him with a smile, and Adam stopped short. A dreadful realization wormed itself in his mind as he noticed the multitude of threads wound around Joseph.


    He could kill him.


    The same threads were laid around the walls, hanging from the ceiling. They waited for commands.


    From these threads he felt a nameless fear. His skin prickled as though a knife threatened to cut him.


    Yet, Joseph was ignorant of them.


    The spider was pleased by his reaction and considered its job well done.


    Then all Adam¡¯s calm was lost and he had no idea how he managed to keep a straight face as he saw a man walk out of Mary¡¯s room. He rounded out with ease, uncaring. When he noticed Adam looking at him, he smiled like sycophant.


    ¡°Hello again, Adam,¡± said Christopher.


    ¡°You know each other?¡± Joseph asked, looking between the two.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Christopher answered. ¡°He was one of the first people I contacted about this.¡±


    Delilah raised an eyebrow at this.


    Adam was desperately asking the spider about him, but it appeared to have become dumb because it repeatedly said there was no one there at all.


    ¡°I met your family by chance as I returned here to talk with some of the staff again. Isn¡¯t it incredible that no one noticed anything?¡± Christopher continued.


    The spider, tired of being wrongly accused decided to go to him.


    It skittered along the ceiling in their direction while Adam practically shouted at it mentally to keep away.


    The spider stopped short of them, and Adam could feel its sheer surprise.


    Someone had passed the web unseen! Blasphemy!


    Christopher frowned and turned around. The spider crawled through the gap between door and ceiling into another room before being seen. Adam internally sighed.


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Christopher asked, turning back around.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°A¡­forget it. Like I was saying, I wanted to ask a few questions of the staff here, then I met with your¡­sister and brother, I guess.¡±


    The spider continued to swear as it climbed the walls back to the ceiling from where it could see anyone enter. It vowed that Christopher had never passed by its web. He must have entered from elsewhere.


    ¡°Why were you in my wife¡¯s room?¡±


    ¡°Forgive me, I didn¡¯t mean to be rude. I just wanted to see the room itself. The door of this room was broken during the attack, and no one seems to know why.¡±


    Adam observed the door, already knowing he was correct. He broke the door, after all. ¡°Where is your partner?¡±


    How did he know how to evade the spider? Did he know it was there?


    The spider said he knew something was there; otherwise he would not have taken measures against it. Still, he probably didn¡¯t know it was a homely spider.


    Did he know Adam was the cause?


    The spider and the web had no scent. Likewise, Adam left no scent. He should not know.


    ¡°He is waiting outside. Just as a precaution.¡± Christopher smiled, affably. ¡°In any case, I only came to take a look around. It was a surprise to find your family here.¡± He nodded toward them, giving Joseph a longer look.


    Adam found it a little strange. He studied Joseph, and caught the scent. It was faint, almost unnoticeable. He smelled of dreams, and of red light.


    Christopher left them with a wave. The spider followed him as he left the hospital. According to the spider, he disappeared near the bathroom.


    ¡°So,¡± Adam began, turning toward Delilah, ¡°what brings you here?¡±


    ¡°I was waiting for you.¡± Delilah shrugged. ¡°I figured you¡¯d come here.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± Joseph said, glancing at Delilah. ¡°But what I want with you can wait.¡± He walked down the corridor.


    After he left, Delilah frowned. ¡°I didn¡¯t know the two of you were on speaking terms.¡±


    ¡°This is the second time I remember speaking to him.¡±


    ¡°And yet he came all the way here to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Stranger things have happened.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess it doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she said with a small grumble that suggested it did matter. ¡°I came to see my mother, and figured you would be here.¡±


    The spider saw Christopher was on the floor below. He was performing a spell to scour the building.


    So he could use spells. Would it find the spider?


    No of course not. The spider laughed at the notion. There was no way this simplistic spell would find it.


    Still, that Joseph could cast spells made Adam slightly unnerved. What was he? What were they all?The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°She¡¯s still unconscious?¡±


    ¡°As is your wife.¡± She pointed toward Mary¡¯s room.


    Adam entered the room. She was still sleeping, peacefully. ¡°Hasn¡¯t she been sleeping for too long?¡±


    ¡°She did wake up. Both her and mom.¡± Adam looked at her. She paused, struggling to continue. ¡°They both started screaming when they woke. The doctors gave them a sedative. Made them sleep again.¡±


    Adam widened his eyes at her.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Weird.¡±


    What did that mean? He was getting hopelessly confused. ¡°Has anything happened in the house?¡±


    ¡°No? Well, John has locked himself in his room. He hasn¡¯t taken all the stress well. He doesn¡¯t even speak with Alexandra. Terry has been trying to talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Terry?¡±


    She scowled. ¡°My husband.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡±


    She rolled her eyes at him. Then, she grew somber. ¡°John kept screaming your name,¡± she said. ¡°Said you did something¡­killed him or something like that. I¡¯m not sure.¡± She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, somewhat expectantly.


    Adam shook his head. ¡°I have no idea what he is talking about.¡±


    She sighed in a way that suggested she expected nothing different. ¡°Well, I came here just to talk about this and see mom, really. Goodbye. I hope Mary gets well soon.¡±


    He gave her his farewells and stood by Mary.


    She lay there, peacefully. He called to her. She did not appear.


    ¡ì


    What had happened with Evelynn and Mary seemed similar. Evelynn had been affected much more harshly, but the two were in the same situation when it happened. However, Adam was there too. Why was he fine? Considering how Mary responded after Evelynn, would he, too, suffer the same fate, but after a considerable amount of time?


    Adam went to meet Joseph in the cafeteria, feeling unnerved that Mary hadn¡¯t appeared.


    Joseph was still covered in spider web.


    Adam sat with him. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    He smiled insultingly. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to be this upset. Delilah left?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± He clapped his hands, happily. ¡°You took Oliver¡¯s journal from my mother¡¯s room.¡±


    Adam grunted, nonplussed. ¡°So what?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, nothing. It¡¯s just¡­I don¡¯t think that journal can save you from your predicament,¡± Joseph continued with an air of arrogance that looked quite funny considering the many webs enveloping him.


    Adam mulled over his words. What predicament? Mary¡¯s collapse, perhaps. Did he have anything to do with that? And now Mary¡¯s projection was not appearing. Did he also have anything to do with that?


    The spider asked if he would like Joseph to die, noticing Adam¡¯s growing animosity.


    But no, that would be too suspicious, and he had information Adam wanted to know.


    Why not threaten him then?


    ¡°There is no use playing the fool,¡± Joseph continued. ¡°I know you¡¯ve read the rites, and practiced this strange magic.¡± He laughed, a mirthless, bitter laugh. ¡°Father¡­I have no idea what he was, or did. I thought he was crazy when I first read the notes. Then, they appeared in my dreams. Have you seen them already?¡±


    Had he?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know for how long you have been using this power,¡± Joseph continued without waiting for an answer, ¡°but I have read my father¡¯s work for the last five years. I know things you have no idea of. The possibilities that I glimpsed were endless.¡± He gestured airily at the table. ¡°This squabble for money¡­is of no interest to me anymore. It pales in comparison to my study.¡±


    ¡°Good luck to you in your study then.¡±


    He smiled faintly. ¡°But, I still like money, of course. And since I can take it all for me, why not do it?¡±


    ¡°Ah, finally some progress,¡± Adam said. ¡°Now I know what you came for.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to murder you,¡± he continued, ignoring the jibe. ¡°You are not like Evelynn, and her children. You have nothing to do with this.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your mercy.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s what I want you to do. Give up on any claims to father¡¯s money, and I will wake up your wife.¡±


    Adam paused, thinking about it. In the first place why had Mary collapsed? She and Evelynn were in a dream, and something invaded, but he was there too, and felt nothing but a mild tiredness.


    ¡°What did you do to the two of them?¡±


    Joseph smiled widely, as if pleased to have Adam in his grasp. ¡°It¡¯s a small trap, really. They are both trapped within a nightmare at the moment. Only I can release them.¡±


    ¡°How did that happen?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to answer that.¡± Joseph scowled. ¡°Have you not heard me? Withdraw your right to the inheritance and I¡¯ll save your wife.¡±


    ¡°You made a hostage of my wife, I see. Will you make the same deal with Delilah, John and the others?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to explain myself to you!¡± Joseph bristled, then calmed down and continued. ¡°Are you worried for them? You and Delilah have gotten quite close, I see. Don¡¯t you only know each other for one week?¡±


    Adam frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡±


    ¡°So you knew them before? Anyways, don¡¯t try to be a hero, Adam. These people don¡¯t deserve it. And no, I¡¯m not planning any deal with them. It¡¯d be far too risky, and besides,¡± he shrugged, ¡°I want revenge.¡± He smiled, grimly.


    The spider asked if now was a good time to kill him. He was annoying.


    Adam told it no.


    It grumbled.


    Adam himself was feeling pretty calm in this conversation. ¡°Revenge for what?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not your concern!¡±


    Adam started at his intensity.


    Joseph realized, and calmed himself. ¡°You only need to know that you should not get in my way. I want to kill Evelynn and her children. But you have nothing to do with this, and I¡¯d not like to get involved with you.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that after Mary wakes up, I won¡¯t renege on my end of the deal?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°Because I can do the same thing again.¡±


    The spider asked if it could just hurt him a little. Just a little.


    Adam was surprised it could do that. He thought about if briefly. Why not?


    ¡°Look, Adam you have no choi¡ª Aaargh!¡± Joseph stared at his forearm, in alarm, then in monumental fear. Streaks of black jumped out of his skin, pulsing and twisting, web-like cracks that spread through his arm with alarming speed.


    Then from the center of that, pieces of him began to fall. His blackened flash dropped like clumps of dry dirt. Rotten.


    Joseph stared at his forearm perplexed, mouth open in shock.


    Adam was equally shocked, and rapidly warned the spider not to kill him.


    Thankfully, there were very few people besides them, and his scream went unnoticed.


    The smell of dreams overflowed from the open wound. It filled the air like smoke.


    The streaks retreated and faded into a red, fresh wound. It bubbled and sizzled with blood. Joseph shook, teeth clenched as he stared at the open wound, and, finally, at Adam. ¡°What have you done to me?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Adam asked, calmly. ¡°It¡¯s a threat: if you don¡¯t want to become a clump of dirt, answer my questions.¡±


    Adam wondered if the spider could make him into a clump of dirt.


    The spider wanted to know if he wanted him to rot right now.


    No, he only wanted to know if it was possible and how long it took.


    Less than a minute. He was just a human.


    Joseph stared at him, perplexed, then stared at his wound. He came to a surprisingly swift decision. ¡°What do you want?!¡±


    Adam furrowed his brows in distaste. The man had been so arrogant before, now he was acting like a baby. ¡°Can you kindly release my wife and Evelynn?¡±


    Joseph tensed. ¡°It¡¯s¡­complicated.¡±


    Adam scowled. The spider understood.


    Joseph shivered. He raised his other arm before his face. A red line bloomed an ran down the table. ¡°Please, stop, you don¡¯t understand,¡± he hissed.


    ¡°What do I not understand?¡± Adam asked.


    Joseph swallowed, clenching his hand over the table. ¡°I, please let me explain. I swear I won¡¯t lie to you, but it¡¯s more complicated than it appears.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Adam ceded. ¡°Explain yourself.¡±


    ¡°All right, I¡­I made a deal with him. He made a trap for me. I only put it together.¡±


    ¡°He?¡±


    ¡°The Withering Sun,¡± Joseph continued, shivering at the name. ¡°He came to me in my dreams after I began to learn the rites, and¡­taught me. A few months ago he requested payment, and I promised to give it to him.¡±


    He stared at Adam as if expecting him to say something. Adam said nothing. He continued. ¡°He told me to make a trap. It was a complex ritual, like no other I¡¯ve done. He said it would consume anyone who tried to pry open the door to dreams and bring them to him. That was Evelynn, and your wife.¡±


    Adam stared at him, contemplating his words. Something came to him in his dream? What world he was in that dream things threatened his life. Nevertheless, he understood Joseph¡¯s predicament. ¡°You can¡¯t release them.¡±


    ¡°I can beg him to release your wife,¡± Joseph said, palling slightly. ¡°He will listen to me. I can dismantle the trap. He won¡¯t like that, so he will listen to me.¡±


    Adam rubbed his chin. ¡°Where is this ¡®trap,¡¯ of yours?¡±


    ¡°At the mansion.¡±


    So it was back when they invaded Evelynn¡¯s dream. ¡°Why would you try this trap at the mansion? No, why would he give you this trap in particular? Yes, I see, you spoke with him about your family, did you not? You told him you learned the rites from reading Oliver¡¯s books and notes.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Joseph said, calmer now. He was cleaning his wounds with his shirt. ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of curse you¡¯ve put on me, but I am the only one who can speak with the Withering Sun.¡±


    ¡°Or so you hope.¡±


    Joseph fell silent, sweat budding at his forehead. Adam took that as a sign of his uncertainty. Joseph didn¡¯t know if the Withering Sun could be contact by someone else, or if Adam could strike a deal with him. Whoever he was.


    Adam recalled Mary as he last saw her, a disembodied voice floating around. She didn¡¯t seem particularly worried about her situation. In fact, she seemed pretty sure their greatest worry was not attracting attention to themselves from what appeared to be law enforcement of the supernatural variety. As for this Withering sun, he seemed interested in people who were involved in rites.


    ¡°What do you think of the investigator?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°What about him?¡± Joseph asked back, frowning.


    ¡°He was looking for whoever caused the commotion in here.¡±


    ¡°What does that have to do with us?¡±


    Adam frowned. Was Joseph ignorant of what that investigator was, even though it was eminently obvious to him? Then again, why was it obvious to him? Was it the way he carried himself? Was it his partner sniffing around the hospital in questionable moments?


    ¡°Do you know who caused the commotion here?¡±


    ¡°I thought it might be you, or one of Evelynn¡¯s children.¡±


    So he didn¡¯t know even that much.


    Joseph flinched, probably because of the disappointment showing on Adam¡¯s face. ¡°Before you suggested you could put her in this nightmare whenever you wanted. You were bluffing. If you could you¡¯d have put all of them to sleep already. You can only put those who are involved in a rite. But you have no actual awareness of whether it worked or not. You can only assume based on the results.¡±


    Joseph said nothing, though his face grew pale.


    ¡°And you can¡¯t actually wake my wife, at the moment. So, all I can get from you is a promise that you will try.¡±


    ¡°The Withering¡ª


    ¡°Stop! I don¡¯t care about that. I only want my wife up and well. You have twelve hours and counting. Or I¡¯ll kill you. And unlike you I can make good on my deal.¡±


    The spider said to him that as long as he left the hospital, Joseph would be free of its influence. Adam already knew that, of course, it was a bluff.


    The spider thought it funny.


    ¡°Wait, please. I need more time.¡±


    ¡°To discover what it is that I did to you?¡±


    ¡°No! That is not it. I can¡¯t speak with him whenever I want. At least¡­give me at least until tomorrow night.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Don¡¯t delay more than that.¡±


    Joseph relaxed. Somehow, Adam did not like that.


    A small web-like black tendril slithered up Joseph¡¯s hand, the length of his forearm. He flinched at it and looked at Adam. Along the path of the tendril his skin fell away and a red line bloomed like he was sliced by a knife. Blood drenched his clothing, and he pressed on the wound.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like being threatened, Joseph. Release my wife, and I¡¯ll spare you. Don¡¯t make me kill you.¡±

 Chapter 14 - A strange death

    A strange death


    The air smelled of dreams.


    Adam hadn¡¯t noticed that last time. Too preoccupied.


    The forest was dim. He looked up and saw that very little light pierced the canopy.


    Shadows slithered in and out of the edges of his vision, as if they wished him to know they were there, but were not willing to show themselves. Their forms were varied, different sizes and shapes; but all of them possessed the same red eyes.


    Eventually he reached the place he looked for. A flat rock, upon which sat a single person¡ªif a person it could be called. The mesmerizing, hypnotic song whose words he could not comprehended continued for a moment longer, then faded as the creature regarded him.


    ¡°Thou hast returned. ¡®Tis about time.¡±


    ¡°Greetings, Melodist,¡± Adam said, following instructions written on his journal.


    The Melodist harrumphed. Its blurry silhouette moved to face him. ¡°Thy gentlemanliness returned, I see. However thou cannot hide confusion. Speak, what dost thou require?¡±


    ¡°Instruction.¡±


    He could not see its face, but he thought he saw a smile. ¡°Instruction? Mine? ¡®Tis been too long since thou requested aught so simple. Very well, ask away.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told my wife has been taken to a nightmare belonging to a being called the withering sun. How may I take her back?¡±


    ¡°Askest thou her back?¡± The Melodist tilted its head.


    ¡°Err, no. Am I meant to enter this nightmare or find another way to speak with him?¡±


    ¡°No other way exists.¡± It frowned. ¡°The Withering Sun is always in the frozen plains. Just as I am always in this dark forest. Thou need only dream and ask. I doubt that broken sun would dismiss a request of one such as thee. If he does, just steal her away. He will not mind.¡±


    Adam paused. ¡°Is it that simple?¡±


    ¡°I saith not ¡®twould be simple.¡± The Melodist smiled mysteriously, awaiting his next question. She knew he had more.


    ¡°How does a trap to capture people and send to him would work?¡±


    ¡°A foolish question. Thou need very little understanding for such an insignificant thing. Create a boundary and connect the two planes. Such a thing would only work on young ones.¡±


    Adam nodded. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡±


    ¡°¡®Tis nothing. Thou art deserving.¡±


    Adam opened his eyes in his hotel room.


    A wintry wind blew from the open window.


    Adam stood up from floor. The circle he drew on the floor disappeared in a puff of smoke. He had spent the better part of afternoon reading his journal and the mediocre books he pilfered from Oliver¡¯s secret room to try and find out a way of helping Mary.


    In it he found information about The Melodist, and realized he dreamt of her in hospital a while back. She had called to him then. He called to her now.


    She, as well as this Withering Sun, was akin to a god, and apparently he received instruction from her in the past.


    He had ample notes about her power and personality. She was deity to dark creatures that inhabited the forest. The spiders were her servants. She was made of light. His notes weren¡¯t very clear.


    Create a boundary and connect the two planes. He had just connected the two planes, though the door he made was for a different place than where his wife went.


    A boundary must be something like the spider web in the hospital. So was there something like a permanent boundary around the Good Manor? He would need to investigate it.


    With all the confusion Adam had forgotten the spider he placed in Christopher, but when he tried to feel it, he felt nothing. They had probably found it and squashed it. If they knew what it was, then at least they didn¡¯t know it was him who put it there.


    Mary¡¯s cellphone rang. It was an unknown number, but when he picked it up, a familiar voice greeted him.


    ¡°Adam, it¡¯s Delilah! Please come home!¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Lucas, he¡­¡± Her voice broke away in sobs. What had happened this time?If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Please come here. We can¡¯t, I can¡¯t speak over the phone, please.¡±


    The call ended.


    Adam contemplated that nothing was ever simple.


    ¡ì


    When Adam arrived at the house, the first thing he noticed was the police car parked nearby. Adam recognized one of the two cops who were standing at the entrance.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Jeremy asked, frowning. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you.¡±


    ¡°You know him?¡± asked the other cop.


    ¡°He is one of Oliver¡¯s sons. From another woman, I think. Is that right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Adam made to enter, but the man barred his way. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Why are you coming here now?¡±


    Adam frowned. ¡°I received a call to come here. What¡¯s happening?¡±


    The two cops traded glances. ¡°You don¡¯t know what happened?¡±


    ¡°No. My¡­sister wouldn¡¯t tell me. She just said we needed to talk.¡±


    ¡°One of your brothers died,¡± Jeremy said, grimly.


    Adam paused in shock. ¡°How did that happen?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know. The medic team is coming. They may shed some answers. But for now, I need to ask some questions.¡±


    Adam understood his words. ¡°I am a suspect.¡±


    ¡°Look, there is an inheritance to be divided among you,¡± he added. ¡°You all are suspect. There¡¯s no denying everyone in this damn house had a good motive. So will you answer a few questions?¡±


    ¡°Do I have to answer?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Jeremy shrugged. ¡°But it¡¯ll make my work a lot easier.¡±


    Adam sighed, audibly, purely to express his annoyance. ¡°Ask away.¡±


    He asked where he was during the time of death, where he was before, if there were witnesses, and several other questions that would doubtlessly prove his innocence.


    Then he was let in the house.


    Alexandra was weeping in the couch. She started as Adam entered; her face was marred with tears. She promptly looked away. ¡°You, you¡¯re back, I see.¡± She took a deep breath, recomposing.


    ¡°I just heard from a cop that Lucas is dead.¡± He walked her way.


    She flinched, and hide her face. ¡°Yes, yes. It¡¯s terrible.¡±


    ¡°What happe¡ª


    ¡°Please!¡± she screamed. ¡°Please, don¡¯t speak to me.¡±


    Astonished, Adam stepped away from her.


    He then saw Delilah descending the stairs. Her face was the very picture of sadness. She shambled his way, and embraced him tightly, sobbing on his shoulder. He hugged her back, caressing her hair soothingly.


    Eventually her husband descended the stairs as well and made his way to them, grim-faced.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Adam asked.


    Delilah let go of him, but as he faced her, she shook her head, tears falling liberally. She didn¡¯t want to speak.


    ¡°We are not sure either,¡± Terry said. ¡°He screamed, then he just collapsed, and stopped breathing.¡± He shuddered. ¡°It was just like Evelynn.¡±


    Delilah sobbed.


    Adam sweated cold. Could it be? Had Lucas died because of¡­The Withering Sun? Had he tried to use some rite that involved dreaming and fell into the nightmare? But why had he died, when Evelynn and Mary merely collapsed?


    Just then Louis descended the stairs, thunderous. Her eyes were like fire as she swept her gaze through them. She saw Adam and went his way like bull.


    He would have sworn she would fight him, but he was not her target. She rounded on Alexandra, who trembled in her grasp. ¡°What did John do to him? Speak!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything!¡± Alexandra was trembling. Adam realized her face was not only marred in tears. Angry welts marked it. She had been hit in the face.


    ¡°Louis!¡± Delilah cried. ¡°She had nothing to do with this.¡±


    ¡°You heard him,¡± Louis continued, gesturing toward Terry who flinched away from her. ¡°John was doing something to Lucas. I don¡¯t know what kind of drugs they were taking, but I swear Alexandra, John won¡¯t escape from this. Not this time!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything,¡± Alexandra pleaded. She sent Adam a pitiful look.


    ¡°Louis,¡± Adam said. ¡°This is enough.¡±


    She rounded on him. ¡°This has nothing to do with you.¡± She glared at him, hatefully, and walked back upstairs.


    Adam turned toward Terry. ¡°Can you explain what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Terry sighed, rather pitifully, and led him to the kitchen.


    ¡ì


    ¡°John didn¡¯t want to tell me much about it,¡± Terry said. ¡°He disappeared into his room. Kept there all day.¡± He drank a sip of coffee and breathed deeply.


    Delilah was pacing around the small table he and Terry were sitting at. She was agitated.


    ¡°Actually,¡± Terry continued. ¡°He became very strange since his mother was sent to the hospital. I thought it was just the stress doing its work.¡±


    ¡°It was the stress,¡± Delilah stressed, and continued her pacing.


    ¡°Of course. That¡¯s what I meant,¡± Terry said. ¡°Anyway, I thought he needed someone to talk to, but the state he was in¡­you¡¯d not believe it. It was like he went mad. He kept talking about how everything was over, about how he was doomed and all of us would die. He also said your name a lot.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t the only one worried for him. Lucas came with me. John was a lot more open with his little brother. But then he said something strange.¡± He paused, eyes narrowing slightly, deep in thought. ¡°He said it was time for him to learn the family secrets. So he made me leave. I don¡¯t know what happened in there after that.¡±


    ¡°What about Louis and her husband?¡± Adam asked.


    He shrugged. ¡°Louis didn¡¯t care. Thomas was worried for him, but he would not care for something his wife considered a temper tantrum.¡±


    ¡°He died in the room with John?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, that was not how it happened no. Lucas left the room. But once he did, he was shaken. Something had put a terrible fright in him. He looked even more terrible than when Evelynn collapsed, but he wouldn¡¯t tell me what it was.¡± Terry sighed. ¡°He went to his room, presumably to sleep. Next we knew, he screamed like a madman. He was loud, much louder than Evelynn, and he didn¡¯t stop soon like she did. When I broke the door, he was already dead.¡±


    ¡°So that is why Louis is blaming John.¡±


    ¡°That, and John kept screaming that it wasn¡¯t his fault, and that you must have done something.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Adam reiterated.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say you did. I¡¯m only saying what happened. John stayed in his room ever since. The cops went there and came back soon after. He agreed to a toxicology exam. I guess they¡¯ll make one for Lucas as well.¡± He sighed, tiredly.


    ¡°Do you think it was John?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°Truthfully, I don¡¯t know what to think.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t!¡± Delilah declared, impassive. ¡°John would never hurt Lucas. He may be a bit of an ass, but he loved Lucas. He would never hurt him. Never!¡±


    ¡°Accidentally maybe?¡± Terry suggested.


    ¡°How do you accidentally kill someone in their sleep?¡± Delilah asked. ¡°No, it must have been poison or something. In that case it could be anyone with access to our food.¡± She grimaced. ¡°It must have been one of Sarah¡¯s children. They want our money.¡±


    ¡°Dear calm down,¡± Terry said. ¡°You¡¯re thinking down a dangerous path. We¡¯re not the police. Let they investigate.¡± He stood up and embraced her.


    She cried on his shoulder.


    Adam felt terrible as he watched them.


    ¡°Oh, so you are here.¡±


    Adam started at the voice. He could not believe his ears. He turned around and sure enough, it was Christopher, leaning against the doorway. Sarah and his partner stood behind him.


    ¡°Fancy seeing you again, Adam. Coincidences sure are a strange thing!¡±

 Chapter 15 - A decision

    A decision


    Christopher was investigating Lucas¡¯s death.


    That fact alone made Adam feel a surge of fear.


    Christopher was not a common investigator. He clearly was aware of the supernatural, and had his own ways of using it. This death was clearly his field, as was the event at the hospital. He was following an obvious trail, and who knew where it would end.


    Nevertheless, it was their third encounter in the same day. There was no way Adam was not a suspect.


    He asked a few simple questions of Adam, nothing the cops hadn¡¯t asked before. Then he turned back toward Sarah. ¡°So your son hasn¡¯t returned yet?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Joseph isn¡¯t back.¡±


    ¡°You realize him not being here makes him look more suspect, right?¡±


    She seemed offended. ¡°How could he have murdered little Lucas, if he isn¡¯t here?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think his presence was strictly necessary for the boy to die.¡±


    ¡°If it was murder,¡± said Sarah¡¯s daughter. ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    Cristopher sighed, somehow self-depreciatively. ¡°No one has respect for law enforcement these days. I¡¯m just trying to investigate a very, very unnatural death, in unnatural conditions of a boy who many people had reason to want dead, because of money. It¡¯s important that I speak to your brother. The sooner the better.¡±


    He turned toward Adam. ¡°I believe you were speaking with him earlier today.¡±


    ¡°I parted from him at the hospital.¡±


    Christopher gave him long look, but eventually turned away. ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with John for a moment.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t do anything!¡± Delilah shouted.


    Christopher gestured for her to calm down. ¡°I didn¡¯t say he did.¡± He turned toward Sarah. ¡°In which room is he?¡±


    Sarah explained the directions to him. He left promptly, but his partner stood by the doorway.


    Adam felt the hulking fellow observing him, though he pretended not to. Adam sat at the table, thinking.


    Christopher knew something supernatural was happening. He knew it involved the Good family, after all both Evelynn and Mary were in the hospital. Did he suspect John? Probably, though Adam was much more suspect.


    Joseph smelled of dreams.


    Adam narrowed his eyes at the realization. Of course, Christopher had probably noticed that as well. If so, then Joseph¡¯s disappearance made him more suspect than he. He also recalled the first conversation he had with Christopher. He was asked if his father was Oliver Good, as if there was something important about that. But why had he been asked something so easily verifiable? Anyway, Christopher must be aware of Oliver¡¯s rites, and was investigating anyone related to him.


    Adam came to a decision. He stood up. Philip¡¯s silent eyes observed him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go up to my room, if there¡¯s nothing else.¡±


    No one reacted to his question. As he passed Philip, the hulking man sniffed without making it obvious what he was doing.


    Adam ignored it, of course. He didn¡¯t smell of dreams.


    ¡ì


    He hadn¡¯t smelled of dreams last time he tried it. Still, making a small spider made him quiver. What if the investigators realized what he was doing some other way?


    The spider appeared just like last time, skittering up his palm. He walked outside and toward John¡¯s room. He guided the spider to crawl its way under the door and hide, then went back to his room,listening through it.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I have nothing else to say!¡± It was John¡¯s voice.


    Adam wondered if he could see them too. Just as the thought appeared, he saw from the eyes of the spider. It was a strange sight, like looking at giants from a vantage near the ceiling. He could see the two standing, confronting each other.


    ¡°So you have no idea how Lucas died?¡± Christopher¡¯s voice was calm like a still lake.


    ¡°No.¡± John sounded petulant.


    A moment of silence; it was broken by a vaporous sigh. ¡°You are lying, John Good,¡± Christopher continued.


    ¡°How dare you!¡± Anger colored John¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Did you kill your little brother, John Good? Is your greed that big?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have the right to question me!¡±


    ¡°Oh, believe me, John. I have full right to ask you anything I want. I suggest you start speaking, or I might have to take you in. It will not be a pleasant experience.¡±


    Adam wondered why he was being so forward. The investigator had not spoken like this to him, or anyone before. Was John so guilty in his eyes?


    ¡°I would never kill him,¡± John said, forcing calmness in his words. ¡°He was my brother, and I would like to be left alone.¡± He paused. ¡°Officer.¡±


    Another long silence. The spider was crawled to a place where it could better watch them both. Christopher had a complex expression, as if presented with a difficult problem to solve.


    ¡°Was it an accident then?¡±


    John jerked slightly, his face losing certainty.


    Yes, from his point of view that was what it would look like.


    ¡°He died in his room,¡± John said. ¡°Alone. How could I have anything to do with it?¡±


    ¡°There are plenty of ways it could happen.¡±


    ¡°Let the hospital discover the cause. I have no drugs or poisons in my possession. If he died it was not my fault.¡±


    A breath filled with tiredness escaped Christopher¡¯s lips. ¡°You have no drugs or poisons in your possessions?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t I just said that I don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°You did. It¡¯s in no way your fault he died, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± John hissed, angry.


    Christopher nodded, as if coming to an understanding of the problem before him. ¡°Any other esoteric items you might have lying around?¡±


    John scoffed. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for some unusual drug, you won¡¯t find it. Lucas didn¡¯t die from something like that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he did.¡± Christopher shrugged. ¡°I know what he died of. My only question is your relation to it.¡±


    John jumped slightly, but settled down.


    ¡°I see you don¡¯t believe me,¡± Christopher concluded. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you do or don¡¯t.¡± His head swerved around, looking directly at the spider. He frowned.


    Adam sweated cold. The spider almost ran, but he stopped it. That would only look more suspicious.


    Eventually, Christopher turned back toward John. ¡°If what happened to your brother was an accident, or orchestrated by another, then the common police will investigate you. If not, then someone else will. And, believe me, we will find what we are looking for. We always do.¡±


    ¡°Orchestrated by someone else?¡± John asked, confused.


    Christopher smiled. ¡°You are new to this.¡± He turned and walked away. ¡°We¡¯ll speak again later.¡±


    John slumped as the investigator left. He sat on the bed, head dropping forward. He lifted his eyes and looked forward. Something like enlightenment was present in his eyes.


    Adam guided the spider toward John. The spider skittered his way and hid in his trousers. Hopefully it would not be squashed.


    His vision and audition returned back to normal.


    Mary¡¯s phone rang. It was an unknown number.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Adam.¡± It was Joseph, exactly who he wanted to speak to. ¡°I heard Lucas died.¡± A silence. ¡°Was it¡­¡±


    ¡°It seems to have been the winter sun.¡±


    On the other side of the phone, Joseph took a deep breath. ¡°He died? But¡­I don¡¯t understand. Why didn¡¯t he only collapse like Evelynn?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t know, what makes you think I would?¡±


    ¡°Heh, true.¡±


    ¡°Where did you go? Have you forgotten our deal?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± he rasped. ¡°I needed to find some things I stored in another place. I¡¯ll go to the mansion now.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t come.¡±


    Joseph paused. ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°If you come, you¡¯ll go to jail, and, unfortunately, I can¡¯t have that before Mary is conscious.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean I am going to jail? No one knows it was me.¡±


    ¡°The investigator you met in the hospital knows it was done by supernatural means. He also knows you can use the rites.¡±


    Joseph drew a deep, fearful breath. ¡°How could he possibly know that?! No, it doesn¡¯t matter; there¡¯s no proof.¡±


    ¡°He knows about the rites Joseph, even more than you and I. He¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°But how did he know I can do the rites?¡±


    ¡°Because of your smell.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Whenever you use a rite, a smell spreads out. I can smell it in you. He probably can too.¡±


    Adam could hear his dread-filled gasp. ¡°There were notes among my father¡¯s books about that. I¡­I didn¡¯t smell anything, so I thought¡­damn!¡± He laughed ruefully. ¡°There were even notes about investigators there. But it was all so old! I thought it was bull.¡±


    ¡°It was not. Don¡¯t come to the mansion.¡±


    ¡°I¡­please, I need more time,¡± Joseph begged, fearfully.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand!¡± Joseph continued. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to the Withering Sun outside the mansion. I need the rite in there to do it.¡±


    ¡°Of course you can. Just do a small rite wherever you are.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡±


    Adam frowned, then thought for a while. ¡°When you want to speak with him what rite do you use?¡±


    ¡°I use the rite in the manor. That¡¯s why I need more time. When the investigator leaves I¡¯ll go back.¡±


    ¡°No, before that, how did you communicate?¡±


    ¡°He just entered my dreams whenever he wanted. I have no control of it.¡±


    Adam sighed. ¡°Tell me where you are. I¡¯ll go there.¡±


    Joseph told him, and Adam ended the call. He sighed.


    He stood before the window and looked out. The trees swished in the distance like a wave passed by them. He heard a melody in the wind.

 Chapter 16 - Passage denied

    Passage denied


    Philip was drinking tea in the lower floor.


    His partner, Christopher, took to walking around the premises of the manor. Did he realize there was a rite around the manor just as he knew the one on the hospital? Considering how Christopher so deftly evaded being caught in the web, he must have known what rite it was even. Did he possess some method of uncovering spells?


    Regardless, that was not Adam¡¯s concern at the moment. He needed to get out of the house and meet with Joseph.


    He walked back into the first floor. Philip was sitting on one of the couches. He glanced at Adam. The mask still covered the lower part of his face. He turned away.


    ¡°Adam,¡± John said, walking down the steps. He noticed Philip and frowned.


    ¡°Hello, John,¡± Adam said, walking toward the door. ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    John glared at him. ¡°My brother just died. What kind of question is that?¡±


    Adam nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±


    John opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself at the last moment. He glanced at Philip and clicked his tongue.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± Adam declared.


    ¡°Where to?¡± John asked. Philips turned around, his still eyes strangely curious.


    ¡°To the hospital,¡± he lied. ¡°I need to see Mary. She hasn¡¯t woken yet; I feel worried.¡±


    John stiffened. A gloomy expression twisted his features. He clenched his teeth and turned away, gesturing at the door. ¡°Goodbye, brother.¡±


    Adam took a last look at him, trying to understand his mind. There was something strange about him. A riddle for another time.


    ¡ì


    The place Joseph chose to meet was a small rented apartment. The owner was an old lady that bothered him with very little except payment. No one knew of this, according to him.


    There were books spread everywhere. Jars and bottles on shelves contained liquids, rocks and dust. One bottle contained what appeared to be a continuous rippling in the air.


    Adam touched the glass jar holding it. It felt cold.


    This was a fragment, a shard of power, aimless power. It could be used in a rite to bend reality in some way, or to call upon an otherworldly being. If not contained it would float away. In his notes, he wrote about them in detail. His methods of collecting them involved simple rites. Apparently he could manifest some by his own will, though that had not always been possible.


    Joseph was observing him as he studied the fragment. Adam turned back to him, realizing he had lost himself for a minute. Joseph looked haunted, scared, and suspicious.


    ¡°This is good,¡± Adam said, leaving the jar there.


    Joseph scowled. ¡°A piece of magic.¡± He shook his head. ¡°That is a remain. When the Withering Sun asked me to make the rite, he gave me a piece of power to do it. After I finished, it broke in several pieces. That is one of them. I¡¯ve been trying to figure what to do with it.¡±


    Adam nodded. ¡°So you can¡¯t contact the Withering Sun.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Joseph hissed. He touched his arm above the wound the spider had inflicted. ¡°I need more time.¡±


    ¡°Can you show me the rite the Withering Sun asked you to use?¡±


    ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°For seeing.¡±


    He scowled, clearly unwilling, but under the duress of Adam¡¯s gaze, he stood and reached for one of the books lying on a shelf. He flipped the pages, then finding what he wanted gave it to Adam. It was the circle for the rite.


    He had expected it to be similar to the rite to enter the dream of the Melodist, and was not disappointed.


    He inspected the collection of items on the shelves. What a bad place for storing materials. No subtlety or care about the metallic properties of some.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°We need copper, and...bismuth. You do have bismuth do you not?¡±


    Joseph cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re trying to do the rite? It won¡¯t work. You need a large space to work and several days.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do better a rite than this,¡± Adam said. ¡°It¡¯ll be small, only for the two of us, and then you¡¯ll speak to him.¡±


    Joseph regarded him with suspicious eyes. He clearly did not believe it possible.


    Adam ignored him and reached for his materials. Strange, how most rites involved minerals of some kind. Metals, stone, crystals. Purified minerals, mostly. There was nothing mystical about them.


    He set the shimmering metal, shaped like small cubes on the floor, put a finger over it and absently willed it to melt. It melted.


    Joseph arched an eyebrow at that.


    He shaped the soft metal into a single shimmering cube and the copper into a thin wire that dug into the floor; he made pointy stones out of a yellow dust whose name he couldn''t remember, and drew triangles and squares with signs whose meaning he did not fully grasp with a chalk, but knew would work.


    In the end, the rite appeared similar to the one he used to enter the dream of the Melodist, but more complex. In the first place that rite required no materials. Why was that?


    During his work, Joseph had grown quite mute.


    ¡°Joseph,¡± Adam called, snapping the man from his reverie. ¡°Are you prepared?¡±


    ¡°Is it finished?¡± Joseph glanced down at the drawings.


    "Almost,¡± Adam said, standing and observing the thing he made.


    Joseph followed him with his eyes, but did not protest even as Adam reached for the fragment¡ªlikely the most precious material Joseph possessed.


    He opened the jar, and reached within. His hands grasped nothing, of course, for the fragment was not physical. It could not be held by fingers, and could pass through most obstacles, though not glass for some reason. Yet, he felt something on the tip of his fingers, almost like a tendril extending from him. He did not grasp it, but guided the fragment out instead, like a magnet pulled by a piece of iron.


    Joseph stared intently as the fragment floated toward the center of the circle.


    It stopped, ripples intensifying like waves upon fabric. Then it burst open as red light filled the room, a cold light.


    Adam started, exhaling condensation, shivering at the sharp drop in temperature. The wooden shelves rattled and creaked, though nothing fell off.


    Joseph stared at his hands, contemplative. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling them, and stared at the room in wonder. ¡°This is just like when I made the trap,¡± he uttered, though it seemed he spoke to himself. Eventually, his gaze wandered toward Adam, where it sparkled with fear and awe.


    ¡°Reach into it with your mind,¡± Adam instructed, sitting down, suddenly aware of what he needed to do.


    Like a good student, Joseph turned toward the rift, trying to ignore all the weird stuff happening in his room. He might even have succeeded.


    This...felt natural. Telling someone what needed to be done. It was like something he had done a thousand times over.


    He closed his eyes and felt the rift before him, like a grand open door from which a harsh light escaped and fragmented. Fragments. Those were fragments, flying to faraway places. He felt Joseph, his mind, or spirit, or avatar loosening from his body with difficulty, as if fettered by heavy chains.


    With a thought he pulled Joseph loose, surprising the man, and hurled him through the door. He waited a moment longer to see if anything would happen, then entered himself.


    He was falling headfirst. His heart beat like a drum and he screamed pathetically. A tunnel stretched before him, impossibly wide and vast, made of almost physical light. Beyond it, he saw ultimate space and vast fields of stars, glowing in the distance.


    Fragments of light escaped in the opposite distance, as if longing for the world he left behind.


    He fell an impossible distance. Then, he stopped. Although he was not sure stopped was the term. He did not arrive at the end of the tunnel stumbling so much as he simply appeared, standing and without inertia.


    The tunnel was nowhere to be seen, and as he looked around a deeply unsettling feeling overwhelmed him.


    He expected a field of ice, or something similar. He didn¡¯t expect a desert.


    He stood in a field of sand with tall dunes blown by the wind. But unlike a normal desert, enormous spurs of ice jutted out of the ground everywhere. There were more colors around the ice than in the rest of the world, which was pure red.


    He walked about, curiously.


    It was much stranger than the Melodist¡¯s forest. He felt completely lost.


    Sand floated upward in thin spirals. He looked toward the sun. It was closer now.


    The sun was jagged and slashed. From these slashes red liquid poured out. Like blood.


    Adam felt a chill that had nothing to do with the overwhelming cold of this dream. What he thought was a spire connecting the sun to the earth was blood, pouring endlessly out of ever fresh wounds.


    He walked beyond some jagged hills of ice to take a better look at the field beyond. The deserted seemed to stretch into eternity, as well as mountains of ice like angry jagged jaws pointing at the sky leaning impossibly at their sides.


    Strangely, he could make out weird reptiles slithering in the distance.


    Stranger than all, however, was the river of blood. It came from the direction of the sun, and disappeared beyond his sight.


    He walked toward the river.


    AWAY!


    Adam stopped, the disembodied voice like a physical wall preventing him from continuing. His head hurt like it was splitting.


    I smell them on you.


    The voice was a rumble, reverberating in his head. Adam fell to his knees.


    You have meddled with the bats, brought them back from Oblivion, and dare to approach me? Send them back. And never step in my dominion again!


    Everything went dark. Then he saw himself, hurled away through the tunnel of light, being lifted upward by a strange push.


    He was back in his body, gulping for air, feeling drained.


    The rift was before him, hungry and alive with power, spewing fragments of light.


    He looked aside and saw Joseph, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed. He was still in the dream.


    He stood with a groan and realized, to his surprise, that frost had covered the room. He left for the walkway outside, unable to bear the oppressive feeling of the red light.


    It was snowing. He looked over the rails, and saw that the street was covered in white. It was a strong snowfall, almost unnatural.


    Fractals of ice grew along the walls and doors of nearby in strange and mesmerizing patterns.


    An agonizing smell tickled his nose. It came from him. The smell of dreams, so thick he fancied he could see it as kaleidoscopic mist.

 Chapter 17 - A better meeting

    A better meeting


    Adam had stopped the car to look outside.


    People crowded to stare at the wall, observing the strangely-shaped ice growing alongside it. It looked like the branches of a tree growing on the all, covering it for the length of the street.


    A little ways from Adam a flutter of snow swirled upward. It fell back to the ground before anyone noticed how weird it was. Snow continued to fall.


    Fragments were rippling far above. Several of them. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to open a rift to a dream world.


    Could he really be blamed for it? He thought it would be like when he entered the Melodist¡¯s dream, not this bizarre flow of events.


    He retreated into Mary¡¯s car, driving away from this place lest Christopher find him nearby.


    Back at the hotel, he drew what now was a familiar circle and entered the forest of the Melodist.


    The Melodist was always singing. Why?


    It cocked its head downward in Adam¡¯s direction. ¡°Ask,¡± it commanded.


    ¡°The Withering Sun banished me from its dream. Why?¡±


    ¡°Did he? A shame.¡± The Melodist paused, seemingly thinking. ¡°He must have felt the touch of oblivion in thee. It must have angered him. His resentment is deeper than I imagined.¡±


    Adam sighed. It was another thing he didn¡¯t remember. He knew of a bat, however. ¡°Why does he dislike the bats?¡±


    ¡°A long time ago there was a great one, born of light and fire. His name is lost. He warred with the ancient bats, and was cleaved by them into fragments. Those fragments reformed in two separate entities. One of the two is the Withering Sun, his essence an opposite to its origin.¡±


    ¡°He fears it may kill him again?¡±


    The Melodist mused. ¡°Hardly so. He fears instead being cleaved back together.¡±


    Adam was confused. ¡°But why would he fear being put back together?¡±


    The Melodist laughed a pervasive laughter. ¡°He¡¯s no longer the lost one. The Withering Sun is himself. To be put back together¡­would be to cease existing. A frightening possibility.¡±


    Adam felt cold. A vague fear crept up his spine. Why?


    ¡°His fear, however, is unfounded. Thou brought one bat from oblivion, hardly a threat. He warred thousands of them in the far past.¡±


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    ¡°Fear needn¡¯t be rational.¡± The Melodist chuckled.


    ¡°How am I supposed to get Mary back then?¡± Adam demanded.


    The Melodist chuckled more, apparently amused by him. ¡°She¡¯s thy wife, is she not? Reach into her dreams instead, and they shall be an open door into the dreams of the Withering Sun.¡±


    He sighed, somehow feeling like he was played. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°I wish thee good fortune.¡± The Melodist fixed him a gaze. ¡°Speak,¡± said the Melodist.


    ¡°When I entered the dream of the Withering Sun, a rift opened and fragments escaped. Why does the same not happen when I come here?¡±


    For a moment the Melodist remained silent. ¡°Ah,¡± it mumbled with a smile that seemed, somehow, satisfied. ¡°It seemeth thine experiments with the ancient bats have addled thy mind. No matter. Mine demesne extends unto thee. Thou also possess solidified fragments as mine bodkin. It shall be very useful.¡±


    Her words gave him pause. The ancient bats addled his mind? Was that the source of his amnesia? ¡°Thank you,¡± he said.


    Something else was missing...but what? The question eluded him. Then he realized. ¡°Are you and the Withering Sun the same kind?¡±


    The Melodist cocked its head. ¡°Hmmm...in thy perspective, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°Why are you...so small?¡±


    A chuckle rang out, from the Melodist, but also elsewhere. It rang from every direction, like a multitude of voices blending to mock him. ¡°Small,¡± it mused. Slowly, the Melodist lifted a hand, pointing a finger at the sky, then wielding said finger like a brush, stroke down.


    The forest disappeared, then the grass and the stone.


    Adam started, surprised. Only he and the Melodist remained. Then even the Melodist disappeared, and only Adam remained facing the sudden darkness.


    There was nothing.


    Then, there was light.


    He flinched away from it, in pain and fear and awe. It poured from an infinite distance, and crashed against him like a wave. Secrets were hidden within that golden light. Power. Infinity. Knowledge. Understanding.


    Truth.


    He fell on his knees, and blinked, seeing the green grass beneath as if for the first time. His arms were shaking, and his mind was frightened by glimpses of something too grand to comprehend. He raised his eyes to look at the Melodist, sitting upon the round stone. The smile had slipped away, replaced by an impassive face, studious and contemplative.


    ¡°What are you?¡± Adam asked.


    A sad sigh escaped from the being of light afore him. ¡°I am the Melodist, one of the oldest. I was born of light. I fear not the ones born of flesh, nor the ones born of nothing. The Melodist is name enough, for there exists no others like me.¡±


    Adam swallowed. It dawned on him that the being before him was not some kind helper, but a mystical entity whose will and purpose was alien to him.


    ¡°Fare thee well,¡± said the Melodist, and began to sing a mournful, lonesome song.


    ¡ì


    An hour later, the sun was starting to dim and Adam closed another book. He wondered if he was reading too fast, but somehow it seemed that the words imprinted themselves in his mind. He could recite what he read line for line.


    He smelled himself and frowned. He still smelled of dreams.


    Nevertheless, he found the rite he looked for.


    There multiple methods of entering someone¡¯s dream. Often it involved an elaborate procedure.


    One method was to have the person¡¯s help, and delving directly into their heads. This involved having them participate in a specific rite of their own volition.


    A second method involved a rite using a fragile fragment from any common dream, and the blood and flesh of the one you desired to enter the dreams of.


    A third method involved sleeping with them. He didn¡¯t believe it at first, but that was the gist of it.


    Thankfully, once any of the rites was performed, it was possible to enter the person¡¯s dream with a simpler rite. However proximity was needed.


    He finished his impromptu research and left for the hospital.


    He passed a shimmering cloud on the way to the hospital. He was pretty sure he saw a moving snowman walking around. He also may or may not have seen a worm the size of a dog flying.


    He stopped in the parking lot of the hospital.


    Suddenly, he heard frantic steps from behind. He turned, and was surprised by the sight of a stranger walking too purposefully in his direction for it to be coincidence.


    He had a mop of blond hair, a clean shave and was rather wiry. He wore an open hoodie over a long sleeved shirt.


    ¡°Adam,¡± said the stranger, with a weird munch of his lips. ¡°Was looking for you. We need to talk.¡±


    Adam stifled a moan. He was tired of all these unknowns coming for him. ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, tired of pretending he knew people he couldn¡¯t remember.


    The stranger stared at him like he was mad. ¡°It¡¯s me, Charles. Did you hit your head, or somethin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a few days ago,¡± Adam deadpanned.


    Charles hesitated.


    ¡°Why are you looking for me?¡± Adam asked before the man recovered his wits.


    ¡°Mr. Pence sent me,¡± he said, shrugging.


    ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°To call you for a meeting.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t he use a phone?¡±


    The man shrugged again. ¡°Mr. Pence doesn¡¯t trust phones.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Pence doesn¡¯t trust phones?¡± Adam repeated, incredulously.


    Charles shifted uncomfortably as if he too were embarrassed by the admission.


    Adam sighed profoundly. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t he just come here? Actually, forget it. Where is he?¡±


    The man scratched his chin, and took a small folded piece of paper out. He presented it to Adam.


    It was an address, date and time.


    ¡°Well, goodbye boss,¡± said the minion.


    Adam bade him farewell and headed for the hospital.


    ¡ì


    The first stars glittered in the sky. A gibbous moon, still half-unseen floated far above. The spider greeted him.


    Many people were sitting at the front hall of the hospital, having idle conversations while Adam asked the staff to see his wife.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Have you heard? Someone saw a flying deer.¡±


    ¡°Someone needs to go to the psychiatric ward.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been seeing all sorts of things today.¡±


    Mary lay asleep as always. Fluid was being injected in her. She seemed wan, and pale. The doctors said they didn¡¯t know what induced her coma, but that they would continue to monitor her.


    A machine was monitoring her heartbeat. A new addition.


    He sat on a chair beside her and reached for her hair. He hesitated, then began to play with her bangs.


    She remained motionless.


    Adam took out the dagger, inscribed with that he now knew to be part of rites. He sliced open the tip of his finger and wrote a small ¡®dream¡¯ symbol on the dagger. Then he closed his eyes and soon drifted to sleep.


    There was no tunnel or fragments of light running against him. There was only a peaceful drifting to a place that felt half a step away.


    He was there again. He knew by the color. Red light churning and swirling all over the place.


    This time there was stone under his feet. Square tiles. Pillars rose toward a distant ceiling. Vast walls with tall glass windows stained with blue and green figures, a contrast against the red light.


    He was inside a building.


    He walked down the corridor past bas-reliefs of strange beings, some humanoid, most not. Dream things, he supposed. There were monstrous horned horses with six legs, women with hundreds of arms, men with the heads of snakes holding spears. Some were gruesome images of wolves and serpents devouring men with rings of light in their heads.


    One image caught his attention, a depiction of a female figure with long hair sitting in the middle of a forest, surrounded by indecipherable forms, though nearest were spiders.


    There was history in these walls. Adam couldn¡¯t help but be captivated by it. He lost himself, forgetting where and why he was there.


    ¡°Is it that interesting?¡±


    Adam started at the voice.


    An old man stood beside him, facing the wall, glancing at Adam from the edges of his eyes. His face was like chiseled stone, hard and unforgiving. His hair was fine and straight, not too long, nor too short; it was grey like the ash left by burnt coals. His long beard was of the same color. He was draped in a long crimson robe with wide flowing sleeves.


    ¡°This,¡± he pointed a long, thin finger at one of the images on the walls. A thousand bats were flying from beyond the depiction into the frame. In the middle was a circle covered with sharp edges; beside it were two triangles connected by their tips. ¡°Is the day of my birth.¡±


    Unnecessary information. One look was all it took for Adam to decide this was the Withering Sun.


    He turned to Adam, his expression unreadable. ¡°I imagine what came before is of more import to you.¡±


    Adam looked back. The corridor stretched endlessly, as did the images on the wall. ¡°You are¡­the Withering Sun.¡±


    His lips drew into a fine line. ¡°I hadn¡¯t a name on this day.¡± He pointed toward the day of his birth. ¡°They named the two of us. Their gall.¡± He harrumphed, indignantly. ¡°What brings you here?¡±


    ¡°My wife.¡±


    The old man nodded. ¡°You arrived by entering her dreams, instead of the proper method.¡±


    ¡°You sent me away when I used the proper method.¡±


    He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Yes, I did. You reek of oblivion and of bats. It¡¯s easy to figure what you have been doing recently. From that I extrapolated your objective in coming to me.¡±


    ¡°My objective?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°My oblivion.¡±


    Adam looked at him in an uncomfortable silence.


    The old man took a long look at him and chuckled. ¡°A mistake, I now realize. You have no such desires.¡± He nodded to himself, turned and began to walk. ¡°You are here for one of my honored guests.¡±


    Adam walked after him down the corridor. ¡°Why did you think I wanted¡­¡±


    ¡°My oblivion,¡± the Withering Sun finished. ¡°Who is your master?¡±


    Adam hesitated. Master? Did he have one?


    A tired sigh escaped his nostrils. ¡°The one who taught you your spells in dreams,¡± he continued. ¡°I ask for the sake of politeness. Nothing more.¡±


    They continued to walk. Eventually the Withering Sun continued. ¡°They want the Lost to return, the gods of dream. They want to cleave me and the Dimming Lantern back together, casting us both into oblivion.¡± He laughed ruefully. ¡°Worse still, the Dimming Lantern wishes the same.¡±


    ¡°I¡­see.¡± Adam felt stricken at his tone. He felt a strange sadness as he watched that solemn back walking ahead. ¡°My master, I believe, is the Melodist.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Melodist. She wished to name me the Winter Sun. Much better than Meriden, the Life Sculptor, who wished to name me the Cold Sun. He has no imagination. Sometimes I wished that Winter Sun were my name; then perhaps, I would not be so wizened.¡±


    They arrived at a large ornate gate. The Withering Sun never broke his pace as the gates opened before him.


    Beyond the portal awaited a large hall, much wider and spacious than any room Adam had seen. Two rows of strange creatures stood at attention around a red carpet laid before them.


    The creatures were like large cats standing on their hind legs, but without bending their legs or spines whatsoever. Their bodies were meant to walk on two legs. They wore large robes, and several pieces of clothing above them. Their eyes were fully black, and they stared avariciously at Adam.


    The Withering Sun walked down the carpet, then climbed several steps to finally sit on a golden throne. ¡°Come, don¡¯t stand at the entrance. It¡¯s hard to speak to you from so afar.¡±


    Adam hesitated, considering the cats. But, eventually, he walked up to the Withering Sun.


    The cats did not hinder him in any way.


    ¡°I studied you closer this time,¡± said the Withering Sun from his regal throne. ¡°Instead of banishing you as soon as I caught the scent of bats. I see now that we are two of a kind. You are fragmented too.¡±


    Adam stared at him. ¡°Yes. The bats have taken my memory.¡±


    ¡°They do not take.¡± He shook his head, almost sadly. ¡°They only cleave. An old one can manage to be cleaved many times before anything of value is lost. The younger one is, however, the greater the wound. I imagine you wish to retrieve what you lost?¡±


    Adam felt uncomfortable with his answer, but it wouldn¡¯t change. ¡°Yes.¡±


    The old man sighed, as though seeing something pitiful. ¡°Do you remember why you wanted the bats?¡±


    Adam shook his head. ¡°But there was only one. The Melodist said it wouldn¡¯t be a threat to you.¡±


    ¡°And she was correct.¡± After a long deliberation, the Withering Sun continued. ¡°I am always watching the lower plane. Many times, the Dimming Lantern has employed the help of mortals to achieve her senseless objectives, as well as the help of many of the dream gods. I learned to find whenever a part of oblivion was in your world. This bat is not the first you¡¯ve brought.¡±


    ¡°Not the first?¡± Adam asked, alarmed.


    The Withering Sun nodded. ¡°It¡¯s the third.¡±


    Adam considered the repercussions of this. What had he wanted with a memory-wrenching bat?


    The Withering Sun seemed to be in a thoughtful mood. Eventually he extended his hand toward Adam. ¡°Give me your hand,¡± he demanded.


    Adam almost denied out of sheer frustration, but he remembered he was inside this guy¡¯s world, and that he had his wife stowed away somewhere, and gave him his hand.


    Suddenly they were somewhere else. A perfectly round room with tapestries covering the walls, tiles etched with strange forms and statues. Many, many statues, of men, women, animals, monsters.


    The Withering Sun walked among the statues, Adan in tow. He stopped before what Adam thought at first was a statue sitting on a bed, reading a book.


    It was Evelynn, sitting perfectly still.


    Her old, wizened face brought a weird feeling in him.


    She flipped to the next page.


    ¡°She can¡¯t see us,¡± Adam declared.


    The Withering Sun nodded.


    ¡°She¡¯s not the one I am interested in,¡± Adam said.


    The Withering Sun considered him a long while. He looked toward Evelynn, and sighed, almost sadly. ¡°She has been cleaved as well.¡±


    Adam widened his eyes. He looked again at Evelynn, surprised. She was cleaved?


    ¡°Her memories were taken more carefully than your own. A careful incision. Something a bat from oblivion would never fathom. I imagine it was your hand in it. Do you know why you cleaved this woman?¡±


    Adam thought about it. ¡°I imagine she knew things about me that were incriminating.¡±


    The Withering Sun gave another look at Adam, one so filled with sadness he seemed about to spill tears. He sighed, profoundly, the sound echoing as Evelynn flipped another page.


    ¡°Why would her incriminating you matter?¡± he asked, showing his back to Adam as he inspected a statue of a wolf with two heads.


    ¡°It¡¯s a matter of money,¡± Adam said. ¡°I¡¯m trying to take money from her late husband.¡±


    The Withering Sun chuckled. ¡°An oblivion bat is a chaotic thing. It¡¯s ludicrous to make use of one simply to make money.¡±


    ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t use them anymore, then. I mean, I did lose my memory.¡±


    The Withering Sun turned back to him, amused. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. I meant you wouldn¡¯t have brought a bat from oblivion for such a small thing. No one would.¡±


    Adam considered his words. What had he wanted the bat for then?


    Evelynn flipped another page.


    The Withering Sun gestured at her. ¡°You took not only her memories, but her ability to cast magic. A terrible thing. And unlike you, she will never repair.¡±


    ¡°She could cast magic?¡± Adam asked, surprised.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said the Withering Sun, looking bemused at his reaction. ¡°Though even in her prime she was far below the other one in ability.¡±


    ¡°Mary?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°She introduced herself as such.¡±


    Adam felt somewhat befuddled. He looked again at Evelynn. She was frowning at a statue of a spider. Several books lay at her feet. A plate with that looked like the remains of food lay nearby.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been talking to them.¡± Adam didn¡¯t know why the idea was so surprising. But, somehow, it was.


    The Withering Sun at on a chair that materialized out of nowhere. He cocked his head. ¡°What did you expect?¡± He gestured at Evelynn. ¡°I learnt much from our conversation. She panicked less than most humans, likely because she retains an understanding of what I am, even if she has no records.¡±


    ¡°You were looking to see if there was any ploy against you,¡± Adam concluded.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the Withering Sun agreed.


    ¡°She looks older here,¡± Adam noticed as Evelynn opened another book. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Many things are made manifest here,¡± the Withering Sun explained. ¡°She fears old age, excessively.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think I had the bats,¡± Adam asked, ¡°if they were not to take away memories?¡±


    ¡°To reconstruct yourself with fragments of dreams,¡± the Withering Sun said, easily. ¡°It used to be done constantly in the past, and without needing help from oblivion. But it became impossible once Meriden decided no more mortals could partake of the drink he drank himself. Hypocrisy.¡±


    ¡°Meriden?¡±


    All of a sudden the Withering Sun took him by the arm, and suddenly they were flung to the corridor he arrived in, looking at a section of the wall.


    He was looking at the bas-relief of a large man with a mane of wild hair that gave the impression of a lion or a bear. A circled adorned his head, its rays stretching unto the distance. Alongside his body were depicted many beasts, all with their eyes turned toward him.


    At his feet several men lay prostrate.


    ¡°Meriden,¡± said the Withering Sun. ¡°The Sculptor of Beasts, the Life Sculptor. Meriden nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°Is he human?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°There were no humans at the time of his apotheosis. He was a paleotaris.¡± He harrumphed, indignantly. ¡°Soon after he ascended, he closed the path to ascension for those of his land. They thought he merely wished to impede his enemies from ever posing a threat, small as the chance was. But even after millennia, he still holds the gate closed.¡± He gestured at the men prostrated at his feet. ¡°His servants. They are tasked to bring death to any who aggregates knowledge beyond their permission.¡±


    To Adam the image on the wall seemed to grow more loathsome.


    ¡°They have come after you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Adam snapped at him.


    The Withering Sun merely turned his head at him. ¡°You have killed many of their members in the past. Several times they thought you dead, only for you to appear again years later. The two after you now will be no different, I imagine.¡±


    Adam knew, without any prompting, who he spoke of. ¡°Christopher and Philip.¡±


    ¡°I know not their names. They often close themselves from all other dreams but their master¡¯s. I only managed to bring them for a conversation a few times in the past. And they were not cooperative.¡±


    He took Adam by the arm again, and whisked him back to Evelynn¡¯s room. ¡°I suppose you don¡¯t want to bring this one out.¡±


    Adam was about to agree, when a cold sensation crept up his back. He was leaving her to die, he realized with anxiety. Was he so callous and indifferent? And what about Delilah? This woman was her mother; he couldn¡¯t just leave her here.


    ¡°You are very arrogant,¡± the Withering Sun continued, looking over Evelynn as she continued to read. ¡°It¡¯s a common trait among those like you. Still, it matters not. This woman cannot leave.¡±


    Adam felt a strange mixed surge of dread and relief. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because she is dying. Something has been done to her a long time ago, possibly a result of your experiments. She won¡¯t live for much longer.¡±


    Adam looked at Evelynn, feeling horrified. ¡°The bats?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Adam felt the bile rising. ¡°What¡­what did I do?¡±


    The Withering Sun shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    A new terror gnawed at him. ¡°What about Mary? Was there anything wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°At least not yet.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Adam demanded, confronting him more aggressively than was wise.


    Regardless, the Withering Sun regarded him with the same calm impassiveness he had showed ever since they met. ¡°It means,¡± he said, slowly. ¡°That I know not the plans of your previous self. Or if the current you will tread the same path.¡± He took Adam by the arm, whisking him away.


    They were on the open desert. A red river flowed along banks lush with grey vegetation. Joseph was suspended in the air, a large root piercing him as his blood dripped over purplish blooms.


    Adam almost puked at the sight.


    ¡°You were the one who pushed him here, yes?¡±


    ¡°How¡­how did he die?¡±


    ¡°Oh, he is not dead,¡± the Withering sun said with a curious look at Joseph. ¡°Not yet at least. Maybe never. The roots are trying to make a gate out of him, and they might succeed since he is so young.¡±


    Adam, felt a lurch of repulsion. He turned away from Joseph.


    ¡°Would you like me to save him?¡± the Withering Sun asked. Before Adam could answer he followed with, ¡°we had an interesting conversation when he arrived. He asked me several times to kill you.¡±


    Adam hesitated. He looked toward Joseph. He heard a moan that made him shudder. He was still alive! Adam felt like bugs were crawling on his skin.


    The Withering Sun waited patiently for him.


    ¡°Make him go back to the real world, please,¡± Adam said, averting his eyes. ¡°This is too disgusting.¡±


    The Withering Sun snorted. Joseph disappeared. The roots that had pierced him wriggled them sunk into the earth. He took Adam by the arm, and whisked him away again.


    The next room was a small one. Mary was sitting at a table, eating pastries and drinking tea. She was wearing a long red dress of old design. Victorian maybe.


    Unlike Evelynn, she turned toward the two of them, and gave a small shout.


    ¡°You surprised me,¡± she said, calming down. She looked toward Adam, then at the Withering Sun, seeming uncommonly fearful.


    ¡°I have spoken at length with your husband,¡± the Withering Sun declared. ¡°You can both leave. Forgive me for your captivity.¡±


    He bowed.


    And just like that, Adam opened his eyes.


    Mary thrashed about in the bed.


    He took her hand and she stilled, looking at him wide-eyed. She took a deep breath, and she looked around. ¡°Oh, of course, hospital. Look, mist.¡±


    Adam noticed it too. Mist covered them. He heard a sudden horrifying scream coming from outside their room.

 Chapter 18 - Fear of conversation

    Fear of conversation


    Adam looked outside the room. After a while Mary followed him.


    Masses of mist flowed along the hallway. Bodies were prone against the wall or fallen on the floor in several states of disarray.


    Mary hummed, walking past the litter.


    Adam wondered what John had done this time.


    Past the corridor, the mist didn¡¯t fade as Adam expected, but grew instead. More bodies were strewn about.


    Mary stopped, looking at a strange body, prone against a doorway. Noticing her interest, Adam checked it too.


    The body was blue, like someone dead of hypothermia. Its skin looked slimy and degraded.


    ¡°John is an idiot,¡± Mary declared. ¡°He might as well paint a target on his back. He let his clouds feed in a public place and didn¡¯t even bother to hide the body.¡± She crouched to eye level with the dead nurse. ¡°He must have called several clouds.¡±


    Eleven clouds, informed the spider, skittering his way in the ceiling. Mary looked up at it, startled, then relaxed as she recognized it for what it was.


    ¡°It was eleven clouds,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°Ho,¡± she sounded impressed. ¡°Are they all dead?¡±


    He looked toward the spider.


    One had run way. The spider shrugged. Likely the cloud planned to inform its master.


    ¡°One ran back to John.¡±


    Mary nodded. ¡°It wants to eat him.¡±


    Adam gaped at her. ¡°Eat him?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, of course. They often try to eat people when you don¡¯t bind them properly.¡± She stood, dusted her hospital gown and turned toward Adam. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but, in the end, just sighed and walked down the corridor.


    The hospital was filled with mist. In every corner and every room, patients and doctors alike were unconscious.


    Adam felt like he was walking on a field of corpses.


    People were crowding outside, looking up, and pointedly ignoring everything else.


    Mary walked out the door, and turned to see what they were seeing. She palled.


    Adam got out and saw the strangest thing he had seen yet. A desert was floating in the sky. Half of it was in shadow, like a half-moon. It was a white and red sphere, vanishing at the edges. Cords seemed to ripple inside.


    ¡°Are those the Frozen lands?¡± Mary asked, fearfully.


    ¡°Probably, yes,¡± Adam confirmed, recognizing the place.


    ¡°How is that possible?¡± Mary seemed utterly bewildered.


    No matter how Adam thought about it, it could only be because of him. ¡°I opened a rift to there when I was trying to speak with the Withering Sun.¡±


    She opened her mouth to speak, but didn¡¯t. Instead, she exhaled deeply, gave the rift in the distance a last look and turned away from it.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Where is the car?¡± she asked when they reached the parking lot.


    Wordlessly, Adam led her to it.


    She entered, slammed the door and frowned.


    Adam waited, knowing her questions would come.


    ¡°A rift that large needs a very special fragment.¡±


    ¡°Joseph had a fragment the Withering Sun gave him. The Withering Sun is pretty interested in what¡¯s happening around here.¡±


    She nodded slowly. ¡°The bats.¡± She sighed. ¡°How much have you forgotten?¡±


    Adam flinched. He breathed deeply. ¡°A lot. How did you know?¡±


    ¡°The old man spoke a lot to me. His questions suggested as much. He kept asking what you expected to gain by breaking yourself to pieces. The rest was easy to infer.¡±


    After a long, uncomfortable silence, Adam said, ¡°Sorry.¡±


    She whipped her head at him, grimacing. ¡°What does it matter if you¡¯re sorry?! You don¡¯t even remember me!¡±


    Adam turned away.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t even tell me,¡± she continued. ¡°Not even losing your memories makes you trust me.¡±


    Adam turned back at her, stunned to see that she was crying.


    She wiped her tears away, scowling. ¡°I need to change clothes,¡± she declared. ¡°And I need a fucking bath.¡±


    ¡ì


    ¡°So Lucas is dead.¡± Mary seemed rather unconcerned. She had become rather quiet on the way back to the mansion and Adam thought it better to let het think through things.


    Delilah was shut in her room crying. If he strained his ears, Adam could just barely hear it.


    Sarah had been the one to see them at the entrance. She was surprised Mary was up and about, dressed in a hospital gown, but did not ask about it. Instead, she asked if they had seen Joseph.


    Naturally, Adam denied, though seeing the old woman worrying filled him with pity.


    ¡°Yes, he is dead.¡± Adam was sitting on the bed, in their room.


    Mary was draped in a towel, searching among her clothes. She hummed a tune that now that Adam listened sounded strikingly similar to what the Melodist sang. Suddenly, she stopped, and turned to Adam, showing a strangely concerned expression. ¡°Uh, how do you feel about that?¡± she asked, like someone who didn¡¯t know how to ask.


    Adam wondered how he should answer. ¡°Sad,¡± he tried, though that was not exactly how he felt. ¡°Guilty, I guess.¡±


    She turned away, silent, looking like a scolded child.


    ¡°Tell me about Pence,¡± Adam said. ¡°What is our deal with him?¡±


    ¡°Pence? He¡¯s a thief,¡± she declared. ¡°He¡¯s involved in construction, mostly, and drugs. The staple. He buys and sells materials illegally. Apparently he¡¯s an expert at forgeries and can make shady business look legal. Once, there was a time he needed some people gone, and you helped him. Ever since, he¡¯s been asking for help whenever he needs and pays us good money for it. You offered to create a company to take the lumber around here. He¡¯s happy to help.¡±


    ¡°He asked to meet with me tomorrow,¡± Adam explained.


    She nodded, frowning at a rather risqu¨¦ negligee. ¡°Say, do you think you can have a conversation with him without him realizing you have amnesia.¡±


    ¡°I had several already. You didn¡¯t think you had amnesia.¡±


    She scowled. ¡°I realized something was wrong with you!¡± She declared. ¡°But you sometimes become weird, so I didn¡¯t think much of it.¡±


    ¡°I become weird?¡±


    ¡°Yeah you become weird.¡±


    Should he ask about that?


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t let him find out you have amnesia,¡± she said. ¡°No idea how he would react, but he¡¯s not exactly a trustworthy guy. Well, he¡¯s not really dangerous, but it would be better to have his help, and he might not want to help you if he notices you don¡¯t remember who he is.¡±


    Adam nodded. He told her what happened with Joseph.


    She became thoughtful at that. ¡°I have no idea what happened,¡± she explained with a shrug. ¡°You would know, but oh well.¡±


    ¡°There were two investigators investigating around us. They seemed to know what was happening.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Meriden¡¯s servants. The Withering Sun told me about them, said they might be searching for me. Do they know about us?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Adam said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. They know about John¡­and probably about Joseph as well.¡± He dropped on the bed, feeling uncommonly tired. Mary sat beside him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she declared. ¡°We just need to find the bat and put your memories back together. I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be too hard. You still remember your spells right?¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± he said.


    She seemed concerned again. ¡°How much do you remember?¡±


    ¡°How can I know how much I remember if I don¡¯t remember it?¡±


    ¡°I guess so,¡± she said, flopping her feet over the bed. ¡°If you wanna know anything in particular, just, you know, ask me.¡±


    ¡°Do you love me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± she said, placidly.


    ¡°Do I love you?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°How would I know that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not something to laugh not knowing if your husband loves you.¡±


    She sighed, exasperated. ¡°Let¡¯s just sleep.¡± She turned off the lights, and lied down.


    Adam was laid stiffly, looking up at the ceiling, wondering who he was like usual.


    After a few minutes, he felt Mary pulling on his clothes.


    He held her hand, wondering what she was doing. ¡°Mary?¡±


    ¡°Just let me do it,¡± she said, and he let go of her hand.


    She hesitated, then undressed him, then herself. She kissed him, a small sob escaping as she did.


    He kissed her back, feeling a surge of emotion as he covered her smaller frame.


    Her body was scalding under him. She smelled nice.


    Adam wondered later if what she sought of him was reassurance or something else.

 Chapter 19 - Experience dying

    Experience dying


    The next morning they received a call from the hospital declaring Evelynn Good dead.


    Delilah broke into a sobbing mess at the notice.


    Adam felt surprisingly distant at the notice. Everything indicated he was responsible for it, so maybe he should feel more, but all he felt was a vague sense of detachment.


    Neither John or Joseph returned.


    Louis paced back and forth around the house, Thomas at her heels. She was distressed. ¡°We should call the police.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just been a night,¡± Alexandra said. ¡°He might turn up later.¡±


    Louis glowered at her. ¡°He¡¯s disappeared! Without notice!¡±


    Alexandra flinched, then stood, red-faced. ¡°So what if he is?¡±


    ¡°Be more worried!¡± Louis ordered. She shook her head. ¡°What kind of wife are you?¡±


    ¡°A very bad one,¡± Mary muttered.


    Alexandra glared at her.


    Mary studied the table.


    Alexandra glanced briefly at Adam. ¡°I don¡¯t need to hear this.¡± She sat back on the couch, crossing her legs. ¡°He¡¯s sad that Lucas died. He¡¯s probably in a bar somewhere drinking his tears away.¡±


    Louis looked disgusted by her.


    Mary whistled.


    ¡°I think we should call the police,¡± Terry piped in. ¡°We don¡¯t know where John might be and I am worried for him.¡±


    Their discussion was interrupted by someone calling at the gate. Louis talked to them through the intercom with a strange face. ¡°It¡¯s the police,¡± was the explanation.


    They sat on the front hall, on edge, expecting bad news about John or Joseph. Instead, it was about Mary.


    Truthfully, it wasn¡¯t unexpected.


    ¡°She disappeared from the hospital,¡± one of the cops explained.


    ¡°I woke up,¡± she declared. ¡°Nothing wrong with leaving.¡±


    ¡°Well, the hospital staff disagrees; you disappeared, and that wasn¡¯t the only odd thing thing that happened. There was another attack. We¡¯d like to hear what you have to say about that.¡±


    With a sigh, Mary told them a rather unbelievable story about how she woke up suddenly and everyone was asleep. In the story, Adam was unconscious as well, but she slapped him awake and made him drive her home. She couldn¡¯t help it, she explained, she was scared of the hospital and wasn¡¯t acting rationally.


    The cops, however, seemed to swallow it.


    Louis talked with the cops afterward. She explained that her brother, John, had disappeared. Just took the car and left.


    ¡°And you think something happened to him?¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t in a right state of mind,¡± Louis explained. ¡°Our other brother has just died.¡±


    They were very sympathetic, and promised to search for him soon. They asked the others for any relevant information, but they had nothing to say. Alexandra did give Adam a rather strange gaze as they asked her, however.


    Adam felt Mary tug on his arm. He turned to her.


    ¡°Come with me,¡± she said.


    Adam followed her to the kitchen. The others didn¡¯t seem to be paying them attention, anyway.


    ¡°I¡¯ll search for John,¡± she said, pouring herself a cup of water. ¡°He¡¯ll be easy to find since he is reeking of dreams.¡±


    Adam imagined her driving around town searching for John in bars, then he realized the implications of her words. ¡°With a spell?¡±


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s with a spell,¡± she said, frowning. ¡°Oh, yeah, amnesia.¡± She smiled, uncertainly. ¡°Are you going to meet Pence?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    She cocked her head, studying the bottom of her cup. ¡°You should buy a new car. Have you got a phone yet?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯ve been only using yours.¡±


    She put the cup on the sink, and gave him her number.


    ¡ì


    The house Pence prepared was a two-storied family house without neighboring houses, out of the way, in a distant lane. Several houses were abandoned around the block. The road was practically deserted. If there was a place for shady business, it was there.


    Adam knocked on the door normally.


    A stranger opened it half-way, and furrowed his brows slightly.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Adam Good,¡± said Adam, trying to convey his friendliness. ¡°Looking for a Richard Pence.¡±


    ¡°Very funny,¡± the stranger said, flatly. ¡°The old man is in the back.¡± He retreated, leaving the door open.


    Adam entered, and closed the door behind him, casually observing the house as he did. It lacked furniture of any kind, but was very clean and without any visible signs of wear. In fact, the walls and floor looked brand new. The man who greeted him at the entrance went to a side room to play a game of poker around a table with four others. They ignored Adam¡¯s presence.


    As instructed, he went to the back of the house.


    Pence sat on a rickety chair on a long porch, enjoying a beer. Tall walls hid the frosty back garden from prying eyes. There was a gate on the other side of the garden, leading to a piece of forest. Trees swished with the wind.


    Adam hadn¡¯t realized he was so close to the woods.


    ¡°Sit here Adam,¡± Pence said, looking extremely relaxed in his casual clothes. He took another beer from an icebox and put it on the table. ¡°This is a rather nice neighborhood.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen anyone in the neighborhood.¡±


    ¡°It used to be more populated in the past, but the local clothing business failed, and people left. Later, when the town began attracting people again, this neighborhood, for some reason, remained abandoned. I bought all the houses around this place.¡± Pence pointed at the chair again.


    ¡°Why?¡± Adam asked, finally sitting on the proffered chair.


    Pence poured him a beer. Foam spilled over the side of the glass. For himself, Pence poured another, and gulped it down with vigor. ¡°I always make sure to buy real estate when available.¡±


    ¡°What did you call me for? And couldn¡¯t it be by phone?¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± he said, gesturing for Adam to drink. ¡°I heard your brother and his mother are dead. Only, what, four, five more to go?¡±


    ¡°I am sure you¡¯ll know when it¡¯s done, maybe before me.¡±


    Pence laughed and sipped his beer.


    There was an edge to his laughter that gave Adam pause.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t disappear. The police found them, unlike your previous works,¡± Pence continued, a hint of annoyance in his voice. ¡°Although I think it¡¯s impossible to even imagine you had anything to do with the mother. How did you do it? Poison?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Pence waited for a moment then gave up. ¡°Fine, don¡¯t tell me.¡± He gestured at the beer again.


    Adam drank, more to satisfy Pence than for any real desire. He¡¯d rather have a hot cup of coffee in this weather.


    ¡°And what about the ones who did disappear? Are they dead?¡±


    Adam shrugged. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Pence lifted his eyes to a tree. Adam followed his gaze to observe a bird nestling on a branch far above. The bird preened itself.


    ¡°Did you call me to ask again about my family?¡±


    Pence snorted. ¡°Family,¡± he drawled. ¡°I am more your family than they are. I remember when we first met, you know. I remember your sketchy declaration when I needed help in my most desperate moment. I believe now that you were taking advantage of me, but you were useful, very useful.¡± Pence sighed profoundly, appearing absorbed in whatever memories he was digging.


    ¡°Are we here to talk about our memories together?¡± Adam asked, taking another sip of the beer.


    Pence dropped his cup on the table, glancing at Adam with an odd gaze. He seemed embroiled in his emotions. ¡°I was desperate when you helped me. I would never have accomplished as much as I did without you. I was good with business, but you always seemed to spur me in the right direction. Do you remember when you told me Willian¡¯s sons would kill each other once their father was cold, and convinced me to send out men to strong-arm them in selling us their bar? Back at the beginning.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Adam said. ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Pence said. ¡°I also remember when you first showed me your wife. Mary was a lot less open back then. Well, she was only a scrawny teenager eating dinner with a bunch of criminals, so it¡¯s only understandable. I didn¡¯t think the two of you would last. You might dislike me saying but I even thought about putting her in my bar once you were through with her. Did I ever speak of it, do you remember?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Adam repeated. ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    Pence sighed, unappreciatively. ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°I guess it was too much to expect you to share some fond memories with me before the end.¡±


    ¡°End?¡±


    Pence turned toward him, pensive. He looked at the beer and nodded. ¡°Yes. End.¡±


    Confused, Adam was about to ask what he was talking about when he swooned. He stumbled from the chair, holding on to the table for support. The glass fell on the porch and broke, spilling the remaining beer in the cup. He felt his muscles failing. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn¡¯t form. His vision darkened.


    ¡°I am sorry, friend,¡± he heard Pence say before feeling a heavy impact and losing consciousness completely.


    ¡ì


    When Adam came to he was strapped to a chair by ropes, completely unable to move.


    Pence was standing before him, flanked by two men. His face was impassive, though the two others looked very uncomfortable.


    Adam tried to move, but it was impossible. The ropes were knotted tightly on his arms and legs.


    He looked at Pence. ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?¡±


    Pence looked truly sorrowful as he asked, ¡°Adam how could you be so sloppy?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Adam demanded.


    ¡°The cops, Adam!¡± Pence shouted. ¡°They are snooping around us. They have identified several of my men already. It¡¯s just a matter of time before they got you a conviction.¡± He gestured toward one of the two men.


    One of them brought a chair and put it in front of Adam.


    Pence sat, drooping his shoulders. His wrinkled face seemed very troubled. He shook his head, looking toward the floor. ¡°What should I do Adam?¡±


    Adam kept silent. He was speaking to himself, not him.


    ¡°I got almost nothing on these special investigators,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯ve taken an interest in you, so I had them investigated. All my contacts came null. They come from a bureau no one has ever heard about, but were granted leave for almost anything.¡± He turned toward Adam. ¡°They have invaded my club in Chester, got us for guns. Can you believe that?¡±


    For a moment there was silence between them.


    ¡°Say something damn it!¡±


    A cold, detached feeling took hold of him as he realized the seriousness and hopelessness of the situation. ¡°Why exactly are you going to kill me?¡±


    Pence sputtered. He almost laughed. ¡°Of course that is what you¡¯d ask, ¡®I understand you¡¯re going to kill me, but tell me the reasoning please, don¡¯t leave away the details.¡¯ Well, you want to know? It¡¯s because you let yourself get caught. They have proof to put you in jail, and these guys don¡¯t play around. And you just happen to know all of my dirty secrets. I can¡¯t have you telling them what you know.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you just let me run away?¡± Adam reasoned, knowing in his heard that it was futile. ¡°Maybe if I leave the country, they¡¯ll leave you alone.¡±


    Pence shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that wouldn¡¯t be quite enough. And I can¡¯t risk it. Besides, would you really be willing to leave this behind? I know how much you want these lands. I¡¯ve watched you, Adam.¡±


    ¡°I am sure you would know me better than myself,¡± Adam assured him.


    ¡°Ah, there it is, the snarky comment,¡± Pence snorted.


    ¡°You¡¯re really going to kill me over this?!¡± Adam roared, letting his anger speak for him.


    Rick called one of the two men over. ¡°Shoot him in the head. Bury him in the forest. Make sure he dies fast, without pain.¡±


    ¡°Oh thank you!¡± Adam laughed. ¡°It would be terrible to die painfully. I just can¡¯t thank you enough, Rick.¡±


    The guy stood before him. He fumbled with his gun, visibly disturbed, then pointed it at Adam¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Pence said, turning away.


    ¡°You will pay for this, Pence!¡± Adam shouted to the man¡¯s back. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡±


    Pence turned around, gave him a pitying glance, and turned away again.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna pay, you bastard!¡± Adam shouted. ¡°You fucki¡ª


    The words died on his lips. The last thing he heard was the thunderous sound of the gun, ringing in his ears, and the single most painful headache he ever had. He believed he toppled on the floor, chair and all, but couldn¡¯t be sure because everything went dark.


    The cold was the last thing he felt.

 Chapter 20 - Dying pains

    Dying pains


    He coughed. His throat filled with something repulsive. He almost choked.


    There was a clinging sound ringing in his ears, and a rhythmic sound he couldn¡¯t recognize.


    He tried to move, but had no success. His hands and legs felt numb and cold. His head hurt.


    He heard people speaking above him. ¡°Poor guy,¡± one of them said. ¡°Pence really is an ingrate for shooting this guy.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let him hear it,¡± said the other. ¡°Besides, you don¡¯t know how much of an asshole this one was. He always looked down on the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t he the one who killed everyone Rick really wanted dead?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and that¡¯s why the boss killed him. He¡¯s scared, don¡¯t you get it? He thinks this guy was gonna take over the business after this last stunt.¡±


    Adam remembered. He was shot. He turned his neck around, breathing deeply of the air full of dirt and dust. He looked around. He could only see from one eye; the other wasn¡¯t opening. He was inside of a grave. They were burying him.


    He tried to move again, and managed to lift himself slightly. He had a mild headache.


    Why wasn¡¯t he dead?


    ¡°Hey, is he moving?¡±


    ¡°He was shot in the head.¡± Someone gave a sharp laughter. ¡°Of course he isn¡¯t moving.¡±


    But Adam was moving. He tried to stand, grimacing, arms and legs feeling numb. He held to the ledge of the grave and looked up.


    His gravediggers realized that he was alive and had some of the most fantastical faces Adam had ever seen.


    ¡°Shit, he¡¯s up,¡± one of them stated the obvious.


    Adam reached for his gun. He found nothing. They had taken it.


    ¡°Hey, what do we do?¡±


    ¡°Hell, if I know. How is he even up?¡±


    Adam tried to lift himself from the grave, but failed. His numb arms just didn¡¯t have the strength.


    One of the gravediggers gripped his shovel. He hesitated, then lifted his shovel and smashed Adam¡¯s face.


    Adam stumbled back against the other side of the grave. He tasted blood, and the pain felt like riding a strange high.


    The gravedigger prepared for another strike; he intended to finish the job he was given one way or another. Before he could, Adam gripped the fabric of his pants and pulled. The man slipped and fell in a heap in the grave, together with Adam. The two entangled in the hole as Adam tried to wrestle the shovel from his hands.


    ¡°Shit, Kyle!¡±


    Weak as he felt, Adam somehow managed to keep the gravedigger down. He pushed the handle of the shovel against the man¡¯s neck trying to choke him.


    Adam heard the cocking of a pistol, and rapidly threw himself from above the other man. He heard five shots. He felt two spikes of pain, one on his leg and one on his torso. Blood splattered from the head of the other man in that grave.


    ¡°Shit!¡± the man above swore.


    The pain was intense. Adam gnashed his teeth, trying to contain a whimper, then, like a heavenly balm, the pain faded.


    Without delay Adam grabbed the shovel from the nerveless fingers of the dead man and stood, knowing there could be no delay as his opponent had a gun. A surprised gasp escaped the other man¡¯s mouth as Adam thrust the tip of the shovel in his neck.


    The man fell backward.


    With that done, Adam climbed out of the grave, arms shaking slightly. The numbness was fading; he could feel them better now.


    The downed man was still thrashing on the ground, scratching his smashed throat. His weapon lay beside him.


    Adam put him out of his misery with the shovel and took his gun. No reason to waste bullets.


    After the job was done, Adam breathed deeply. He coughed a ball of phlegm and dirt.


    He checked his wounds. A bullet fell out from under of his shirt, the wound it had made closed, though a patch of blood dirtied his already very dirty shirt. He touched his forehead, touching where the bullet had pierced his brain. He felt his skin and flesh, no hole, no wound. He scratched a crust of hardened blood and gore covering his left eye. His sight was somewhat blurry. He had lost his glasses.


    He took a bullet to the head, but was alive, and there was no wound. Adam felt crazy. He smelled himself. The smell of dreams, from when the rift opened, hadn¡¯t left him, but had faded considerably since them. Now, however, the smell was strong again. A more mundane smell also stuck to him. The smell of dirt and gore.


    He took his shirt off, and put on the shirt of the dead man. He wasn¡¯t clean, but it was better now. That shirt had been too disgusting.


    While taking the dead man¡¯s shirt, he found his own pistol and knife. The filthy thief. He also checked the grave for his glasses but they weren¡¯t there.


    He thought for a bit and decided to also trade trousers with the corpse. With that done, he walked down the obvious path back to Pence¡¯s house.


    ¡ì


    The beer he had dropped was still spilt on the porch. It seemed like an insignificant detail to fixate upon, but it filled him with hatred. It also told Adam not much time had passed.


    He opened the door, and entered.


    He heard the sounds of tapping a table and grunts coming from a room to the left, through a doorway farther down the corridor. To his right, a room over, someone was speaking loudly, probably on a phone as there was no answering voice.


    ¡°Kyle? Dan?¡± someone called from the room to his left as Adam approached. Leaning against the wall, Adam showed himself in the doorway.


    There were three of them. Two were engrossed in the cards. One, the speaker, was staring at him. His eyes widened in surprise. He stood in a panic, reaching for his gun; but before he could lift it, Adam shot him.


    The other two jerked away from the falling man, turning toward Adam with a start. Adam shot them as well before they could put up a fight.


    He heard the heavy footsteps of another man running down the hall. He pointed his gun and waited.


    Another man appeared. His face blanched when he realized the gun. He was still holding his cellphone with someone shouting from the other side.


    ¡°What was that?¡± came the questioning voice of Richard Pencer from the cellphone.


    Adam shot.


    He missed.


    The man let go of the phone, tackled him to the floor and tried to choke him.


    Adam felt disoriented. For a moment his vision darkened. Then everything alighted with spectacular clarity. He grabbed the man above him by his collar and pushed him against the wall.


    They grappled, hitting against each other with arms and legs. Adam pulled out the knife and stabbed his belly.


    The man¡¯s face twisted in pain.


    Adam stood above him as his victim stared with wide-eyed terror at the wound. Blood was spilling from his stomach. He pressed against the wound, but couldn¡¯t even cover it. He started to hyperventilate. His face grew pale. He moaned. He dropped with a thud soon after, losing consciousness.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    The knife felt hot in Adam¡¯s hands. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to the dying man before him. ¡°Why,¡± he lamented, ¡°does this keeps happening?¡±


    His heart was beating wildly at what had just happened.


    ¡°What is happening?¡± Pence asked on the other side of the cellphone, fallen on the floor.


    Adam picked it up. ¡°Hello Pence.¡±


    A silence followed, then a simple question, ¡°Adam?¡±


    ¡°Back from the grave,¡± Adam said.


    The line cut. Feeling somewhat aggravated, somewhat depressed, Adam threw the phone angrily at the pool of blood gushing out of the corpse.


    He looked around outside the house and did not find Mary¡¯s car. The bastard actually took his car. He also hadn¡¯t found his cellphone so Pence must have taken it.


    Should he call a taxi? He looked down on himself, dirty and smelly, looking like a homeless bun. He headed back inside and took a shower.


    He felt morbid about the way he wasn¡¯t freaking out about the people he just murdered in cold blood. He was angry, he knew, and he wanted to kill them. But there he was, taking a shower while their corpses bled nearby as if it was the most natural thing in the world. There must be something wrong with him.


    After showering and cleaning his clothes as best as he could with only water, Adam wondered what he should do about the bodies and the obvious signs he was there.


    He also realized Mary was in potential danger. He took the gruesome cellphone he had thrown on the floor, but it was password protected. He searched for the landline but there wasn¡¯t one installed.


    He approached the corpse on the corridor. It lay slumped against the wall; its head cocked toward the floor in what would have been an uncomfortable pose had the man been alive.


    Almost without thinking, Adam decided to try something. He pulled out the knife and touched it against the blood, willing it to burn. A small flame surged, then consumed the blood like it was gasoline.


    Adam reeled away as the pyre of flame surged and threatened to consume the corridor. He walked to the other room, where the other bodies were still lying in the pool of their own blood and did the same to them.


    He left the house walking after setting the blood and the corpses on fire.


    He wondered if the charred remains of whoever these unlucky men were would be found, or if the fire would turn even them to dust. But it didn¡¯t matter in the end. The street he was in was empty. He wondered if the police would find out it was him who did this.


    After having walked a considerable distance, he looked behind, feeling satisfied as smoke began curl upward.


    ¡ì


    There was snow covering the street. Not enough to impede traffic yet, but it could become like that soon.


    It took Adam forty minutes to reach a bustling part of town. He looked around, wondering where he was. People were walking down the streets. Cars were running. He reached a lane with several stores.


    Some people were pointing toward the column of smoke burning in the distance, almost invisible from where they were. Adam took a last look at it and continued on his way. He looked around for a taxi but found none. What else could he do? It was not like he could just walk back to the mansion.


    He found instead the comic book shop, the same one he had come to before. He hesitated for a bit, but figured wasting a few minutes wouldn¡¯t matter.


    Again the bell rang when the door opened and the vendor turned to him, placidly, then turned away, disinterested. There were two other customers, both browsing the shop, ignoring him.


    He asked the vendor about the next issue and was pointed to it.


    Adam looked through the volumes and soon found what he wanted.


    ¡°Adam?¡±


    The voice was unfamiliar, and the plain young man without a nose ring and with a perfectly normal haircut who spoke with a timid, uncertain gaze did not spring any new memories.


    The two looked at each other for a moment, then the young man¡¯s eyes dropped to the comic Adam held and he smirked.


    At that moment, Adam recognized him. ¡°Paul.¡±


    ¡°Me,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°Still reading that spider-man, aren¡¯t you?¡± His smirk intensified.


    ¡°I¡¯d at least like to know how it ends.¡±


    ¡°Badly.¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°Very badly. But you know what they say, the journey is the best part. Enjoying the story?¡±


    ¡°I guess.¡±


    ¡°The answer of the unconvinced.¡±


    ¡°Who says the journey is the best part, anyway?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Paul looked him up and down. ¡°You seem a little underdressed.¡± He looked through the glass doors at the outside. ¡°The weather isn¡¯t very nice recently.¡±


    Adam snorted. ¡°I guess.¡± He had a sudden good idea. ¡°Can you lend me your phone? I lost mine. I¡¯m just going to call my wife and a taxi.¡±


    ¡°Ok.¡± Paul took the phone out, but before handing it took another look at Adam. ¡°Were you robbed?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Adam said, truthfully.


    Adam punched the number and soon heard a muffled, ¡°hello?¡± in Mary¡¯s melodic voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s Adam,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m talking through a borrowed phone.¡± He looked at Paul and decided that it wouldn¡¯t be a good idea to mention Pence. ¡°I¡¯ve been robbed.¡±


    ¡°Robbed?¡± she asked, incredulously. ¡°You can just¡ªwait you¡¯re speaking with someone else¡¯s phone?¡±


    ¡°Yes, a guy I met at the comic book store.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re at a comic book store?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    A heavy sigh sounded from the other side. ¡°What are you doing in a comic book store?¡±


    He decided to cut the conversation short. ¡°Look Mary, they took your car, so I¡¯ll take a taxi and meet you in the mansion, and take care to not speak with anyone who looks like a criminal. We need to talk.¡±


    She paused. ¡°Ok, I get it. Bye.¡±


    ¡°Bye.¡±


    The call ended. ¡°What¡¯s the taxi¡¯s phone number?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No idea,¡± Paul said. ¡°But relax. I¡¯ll take you.¡±


    Adam cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ll take me?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Paul continued, smiling. ¡°I have a car and free time. You know, helping each other in our time of need and all that.¡±


    Adam thought for a moment, and decided that it would be faster this way. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    He bought the comic, and then followed Paul to his car. It was a small and new red car. It looked very conspicuous in the snow, like a drop of blood.


    Soon, they were on their way.


    Snow was fluttering down. The plume of smoke continued to rise in the distance.


    Adam shivered when Paul turned on the heater as if his body just realized how cold it was.


    ¡°You should have dressed better,¡± Paul said. He stepped on the accelerator and soon they were on their way. ¡°It¡¯s the mansion of the old Good isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Adam said, then with an odd glance, he asked, ¡°you know where it is?¡±


    Paul chuckled. ¡°Yeah.¡± He looked again at Adam. ¡°I never realized before but you and Oliver look a lot alike.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I was told that a lot.¡±


    Adam slumped on his seat, feeling troubled about his life. He had just been betrayed by what appeared to be his partner in crime and murdered several men.


    ¡°Lots of strange things happening around this town lately,¡± Paul muttered.


    ¡°Strange things happen every day everywhere.¡± Adam looked out the window at the passersby and store fronts. Snow was beginning to accumulate again.


    ¡°Several people falling unconscious at the hospital is not some everyday thing,¡± Paul said. ¡°And apparently people are having communal hallucinations.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Adam asked, amused. ¡°Like what.¡±


    ¡°Like seeing flying worms, or walking snowmen.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Fantastical stuff.¡±


    ¡°For a town seeing supernatural events,¡± Adam said. ¡°It seems like everyone is quite blas¨¦ about it.¡±


    ¡°Blas¨¦.¡± Paul laughed though the word wasn¡¯t really that funny. ¡°I guess so. To me it seems pretty normal. They¡¯re not going to stop working and buying stuff just because we have trees of ice growing on our back gardens?¡±


    ¡°Do you actually have trees of ice growing in your back gardens?¡±


    ¡°I do!¡± He seemed really excited by it. Adam felt worried. ¡°It grew overnight. Weirdest shit I¡¯ve ever seen. Maybe my overflowing imagination is driving me insane or something.¡± He seemed to look faraway for a second. ¡°Although, from what I¡¯ve heard, it isn¡¯t the first time things like this happened in this town.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Adam asked, wondering if that meant someone opened a rift to a dream world in the town before.


    ¡°The old lady who lives near my house told me some pretty strange stuff happened around twenty years ago.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Like people suddenly waking up dead, their bodies all dry. Or people wandering off in the woods and never coming back.¡±


    ¡°People wander off in the woods and never come back all the time.¡±


    ¡°True. They also mentioned giant spiders.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Adam grew a little uncomfortable.


    ¡°The locals don¡¯t talk much about it,¡± Paul continued. ¡°I¡¯ve been here only for a little while myself.¡±


    ¡°You moved here?¡± Adam asked. ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°To run away,¡± Paul said. He looked dramatically toward Adam as if expecting some reaction and looked very disappointed when Adam didn¡¯t react. He turned to another road and soon they were out of town proper and going up a rather forested hill.


    ¡°I am a college dropout,¡± Paul continued. ¡°One day, I decided to go somewhere far away all by myself.¡± He shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s my story.¡±


    ¡°You just up and decided to leave?¡± Adam asked, thinking that was very stupid.


    ¡°You must think that was very stupid,¡± Paul continued, smiling. He sighed, without losing his smile. He was in a thoughtful mood. ¡°I just felt sad all of a sudden, and like nothing really mattered. I thought I just may as well go somewhere far away sooner rather than later. I never did tell anyone I would leave though.¡±


    The smile slipped away from his face, revealing a surprisingly somber face. They were amidst a forest now. Snow seemed to have fallen for quite a bit in these woods and covered many trees.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Adam asked. ¡°Maybe they could help you.¡±


    ¡°With what?¡± Paul asked, raising an eyebrow. He scoffed. ¡°I have no idea what I would tell them. And I don¡¯t think I need help. They would just tell me what to do about my life, and probably be correct about it.¡± Paul pointed at his own head. ¡°I am alone here in my own mind.¡± He looked outside for a moment, seeming to drift off.


    ¡°That didn¡¯t come from you, right?¡± Adam asked, feeling as though he might have heard the phrase before.


    ¡°It came from an author I like,¡± Paul said. ¡°Although it¡¯s been quite a while since she committed suicide.¡±


    ¡°Why did you leave?¡± Adam asked, somewhat confused.


    For a while Paul kept silent, and Adam thought he might not want to answer such a personal question.


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t any reason,¡± he told him at length. ¡°I just wanted to run away from my friends and family.¡±


    ¡°Were your parents putting too much pressure on you or something like that?¡± Adam asked.


    Paul shook his head. ¡°No more than they should.¡±


    ¡°Did anything traumatic happen to you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing great.¡± Adam shrugged. ¡°Just minor disappointments, mostly with myself, some with others. And I suppose, I was tired of being a buffoon.¡±


    Adam felt a strange sadness at the young man. ¡°A buffoon?¡±


    ¡°I use to lie a lot to my friends and family,¡± Paul admitted. ¡°But to be perfectly honest, I am not sure what I lied about.¡±


    Adam rested against his seat, looking ahead at the snowy road, somewhat confused that he seemed to understand Paul¡¯s problems.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t really want anything,¡± Paul continued. ¡°So maybe it¡¯s good that I left college.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t want anything?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have any dreams or grand plans for the future. I wasn¡¯t greedy or ambitious. I just wanted enough money to live well and freedom to indulge myself in my few small desires. I got all of that, so, maybe I shouldn¡¯t feel so sad, eh?¡±


    ¡°Except for you girlfriend cheating on you.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Yes, that sounds like a reason to be sad. Another disappointment to the list. It¡¯s a pretty big list, but that makes it near the top since it¡¯s filled with pathetic stuff.¡±


    Adam started humming to a tune he heard from the forest. ¡°Everyone has disappointments.¡±


    Paul nodded his head. ¡°Everyone is a disappointment.¡±


    ¡°That is not what I meant.¡±


    Paul shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s what I understood.¡±


    "This had become a childish conversation."


    "I couldn''t agree more."


    The entrance to the driveway appeared ahead. ¡°There it is,¡± Adam said.


    Paul headed for it, and soon they were before the mansion. Police cars were parked nearby. ¡°Police?¡± Paul asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re visiting a lot recently. Probably about one of my missing brothers.¡±


    As he left the car, however, Adam saw Christopher and Philip entering the house. He took a sniff of himself. He grimaced. The smell of dreams still clung to him from when he raised from the dead.

 Chapter 21 - A brief moment

    A brief moment


    Adam considered turning back; asking Paul to take him back the way they came. Surely they would smell dreams on him, and if what the Withering Sun said was true, they would hunt him down. At the same time, running from here would be too suspicious. What to do?


    What about Mary? Was she inside the house? If so then he couldn¡¯t just turn back.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Paul asked.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Adam replied. He gave Paul a long, pondering look. ¡°Come inside. Have a drink or something.¡±


    ¡°I am not sure about that,¡± he said, giving the cops looking their way a wary look after seeing one of them walking his way. It took him a moment longer to see it who it was. Paul smirked. ¡°Hey, Jeremy.¡±


    ¡°You again?¡± Jeremy studied the car for a brief moment.


    ¡°What are the police doing here?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ve found Joseph Good,¡± he said, looking at Adam with a pitying glance. ¡°Your brother¡­well, he isn¡¯t very well. He seems to have gone through a traumatic experience. We¡¯ve put him in the hospital for the time being.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®not well¡¯? What exactly is the problem?¡±


    ¡°He is catatonic,¡± Jeremy said. ¡°He was shouting and speaking gibberish. His neighbors reported him when they heard him freak out. We¡¯ve found him in an apartment. Did you know anything about it?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t very close to him,¡± Adam explained.


    Jeremy sighed. ¡°It¡¯s just so weird. He was in the room for a whole day. It was full of weird stuff in jars, some of it toxic. We think he got himself intoxicated by something.¡±


    ¡°Weird stuff in jars?¡± Paul cocked an eyebrow.


    Jeremy scowled. ¡°This has nothing to do with you, Paul. I don¡¯t even know why you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°I gave him a ride.¡± Paul pointed at Adam with his thumb. He grinned. ¡°Maybe I should leave now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the ride,¡± Adam said.


    Paul nodded. ¡°Hey, will you stay long in town?¡±


    Adam thought about it. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I should ask my wife about that.¡±


    ¡ì


    Jeremy accompanied him to the door then went back to speak with Paul who was already in conversation with another cop at the time.


    Adam felt doomed as the entered the front hall of the mansion.


    His nose tickled at the scent of dreams.


    Sarah was talking with Christopher around a small table. Christopher¡¯s expression was uncomfortably intense. He glanced at Adam for a moment but did not stop his conversation with Sarah.


    Sarah seemed very saddened by the conversation, though she struggled to maintain a good face. She didn¡¯t notice Adam¡¯s arrival.


    On the way to the stairs, Adam walked past the doorway to the dining room and saw Philip by himself, drinking tea at the table. The hulking fellow raised his eyes for a brief moment and sniffed. He held Adam in his sight and slowly lowered the teacup.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Adam paused at the intensity of that gaze, and the two shared a silent look. That gaze remained on his back even as he ascended the stairs.


    Back in his room, Mary was sitting on the floor, cradling her head, looking fairly depressed.


    Her state bewildered him. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all over,¡± she lamented. ¡°They caught me using magic. They are going to kill me. It¡¯s all over.¡± She shook her head lightly.


    Adam put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. ¡°Calm down.¡±


    She slapped his hand away. ¡°You need to run away,¡± she continued, coldly, undeterred by his request. ¡°You need to change your name again and go to another country.¡±


    She turned away from him, biting her lip. Was it that serious?


    ¡°Mary, calm down,¡± Adam said, slowly. He sat on the floor too, trying to be level with her. ¡°Explain to me what happened?¡±


    She looked at him, confused at first, then with a flicker of understanding. Her face shifted between a grimace and a resigned expression until she finally sighed as if giving something up. ¡°I was using John¡¯s hair that he left in a brush to find him,¡± she said. ¡°I discovered where he was, but I took too long and too much light leaked out. I became too covered in the smell of dreams. Like a fool, I went to meet with the police without suspecting the two disciples of Meriden would be with them. They couldn¡¯t have missed it if they tried.¡±


    Adam nodded. ¡°I committed the same mistake when coming back here.¡±


    She took a nonchalant sniff of him. ¡°You smell of dreams. Well, it¡¯s because you have amnesia. I don¡¯t.¡± She sounded depressed. ¡°Where are your glasses?¡±


    ¡°I broke them.¡±


    She nodded, stood, searched through one of their trunks and handed him a brand-new pair of glasses. ¡°I found the bat as well,¡± she mentioned, closing the trunk.


    He felt a knot of agony twisting in his heart. ¡°Where?¡±


    She gestured for the window. ¡°They were flying around the city and the woods. At the moment they are near where John is.¡± She walked to the window and gazed outside. ¡°We should go get the bats. I¡¯m not sure, but I think the part of you they took is like a fragment. They should have it with them right now.¡±


    The knot in his heart tightened uncomfortably. ¡°Mary, do you really think I should recover my memories?¡±


    She turned to him, bewildered. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡®I am scared of what will become of me should I remember¡¯, how wonderful the world would be if he could admit that.


    Adam considered her for a moment. Adam was fairly sure he had been quite the terrible person before, but she had nonetheless loved him. She loved the him that was a criminal and a murderer who had no qualms killing his own family. She had loved the him that she was not sure loved her back.


    Adam felt sad for her.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    ¡°Forget it,¡± he sighed.


    She looked at him for a second longer then seemed to do as he asked. ¡°My car isn¡¯t down there. What happened?¡±


    Weary, Adam told her all that happened with Pence.


    Her expression grew increasingly heated as he continued. ¡°That slimy piece of shit!¡± She bit on her lips. ¡°He¡¯ll come after us soon.¡± She fixed upon him a slightly bewildered gaze. ¡°So you crawled out of the grave they dug for you after being shot in the head?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I think so.¡±


    ¡°Since when can you do that?¡± She snorted in amusement. ¡°Very in character.¡± She seemed far less surprised than he thought she would be.


    A knock on the door interrupter their conversation. They looked at the door, then at each other. Adam stood and went to open it. Already almost to touch the doorknob, he hesitated slightly. What if it was one of the investigators? But then again, he if they wanted to meet him, he had little choice in the matter.


    It was Joseph¡¯s sister.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked, showing such plain relief that he doubted she didn¡¯t notice.


    A visible frown appeared in her face. She looked a lot like Joseph. ¡°The cop who found Joseph said he was saying your name in his catatonic state,¡± she said, eyes fixed on him with a strange hardness.


    Adam shrugged, still too relieved to be riled up by whatever suspicions she might have.


    She sighed, looking askance, annoyed. ¡°They took Joseph to the hospital. I¡¯m going to visit him there.¡±


    ¡°Do tell me how he is when you return.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s at the psychiatric ward. They¡¯ll transfer him to another city, so I need to visit him while I can.¡±


    A few seconds passed in silence, still she didn¡¯t walk away. ¡°Is there anything else?¡± Adam asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I saw my father,¡± she said, eventually. ¡°You really do look just like him. It¡¯s bothersome. I don¡¯t particularly like you, and I think you don¡¯t deserve this property as much as me and my brother, but from the way things look everyone else will die or collapse until you have it, won¡¯t they?¡±


    If she expected a reaction to her words, she was sorely disappointed. Adam¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change in the slightest. Now that he thought of it, he had done very little against this family, hadn¡¯t he? If anything they sabotaged themselves in various different ways.


    Her face became slightly more annoyed, perhaps because he didn¡¯t react, then she walked away.


    As he closed the door and turned back to Mary, Adam asked the name of the sister who just left.


    ¡°Violet Spencer. She changed her name when she married. She¡¯s a window.¡±


    He was not sure why he found her changing her name a bit funny, but he laughed at it.