M Sellars - Miranda

I sat waiting for the return call but grew oddly uncomfortable with each passing minute. Eventually, I hauled myself up out of the straight-backed desk chair and padded slowly around the room in an aimless circle. As tired as I was, I just couldn’t seem to sit idle.

I pulled my cell from my belt and looked at the display. Less than ten minutes had passed, yet it seemed more like an hour. I had to admit, impatience was definitely one of my faults, but I wasn’t usually this bad. I sighed and then continued staring at the numbers on my phone. After what seemed an eternity the display incremented.

Then, as if on cue, the reason for my restlessness became painfully obvious.

I felt a familiar friction born of unearthly influence begin to rub me raw just beneath the skin. I purposely shuddered in an attempt to shake it off, but as usual it clung to me even tighter. Seconds later I felt simultaneously chilled to the core and flushed with fever.

I’d been here too many times before, unfortunately. It seemed that whenever the dead wanted to talk, this was how they made sure they had my undivided attention. But, this was also just the beginning; it would only get worse- much worse.

“Dammit…” I muttered to myself. “Not right now…”

I knew whoever it was wouldn’t be dissuaded. They never were, and that meant I didn’t have much time before I would find myself standing in the void between the living and the dead, having a one-sided conversation that was no less than a psychotic excuse for a puzzle with missing pieces. Something else I knew in spades was that I was going to become very vulnerable on more than one level. Historically, it hadn’t always been a good idea for me to go through this sort of thing alone, and it was a sure bet that this time was no exception. Since Constance was just across the hallway, I turned and started toward the door. However, it seemed I had even less time than I had originally thought. Before I managed to take my first step, the lights in the room began to bloom in a harsh display of prismatic colors. My vision tunneled, and in that instant the door became a far-away and wholly unattainable goal.

As the carpeted floor rushed toward my face, my world became an empty void, darker than dark, and colder than cold. The last thing I heard was an electronic warble of the William Tell Overture as the cell phone, still clasped in my now paralyzed hand, started to ring.

I’m walking.

At least, I think I am.

I cannot see.

I cannot hear.

I can only feel.

I’m walking.

To where, I do not know.

Darkness surrounds me. But, it isn’t mere indigo like the dark of a moonless night.

Or even the darkness of sleep.

It is blacker still.

Disturbing.

Maddening.

It is the total absence of everything.

It is the black of nothingness, and not only does it surround me, it is in me…

It is me.

Cold…

Void…

Nothing…

I’m walking.

“Rowan…” A distantly familiar voice calls to me.

I stop.

Hollowness consumes me from within and without.

I am nothing.

“Rowan. I’m right here,” the voice calls again.

I turn in the blackness, spinning slowly in place, eyes searching though I cannot see.

I blink.

Though all else remains void, a petite, strawberry blonde woman appears, standing before me.

I ask, “Ariel? Is that you?” My voice echoes and folds in upon itself to become a jumble of disjointed syllables that make no sense. They solidify and shatter into sparkling shards around me.

The broken words shimmer like semi-precious stones. I watch as they disappear, taking with them my question.

I turn my face back to the woman. I have not seen her move; yet she now has my hand in hers. She shakes her head, a forlorn expression painted across her face as a tear wells in the corner of her eye. “It’s been too long, Rowan. You never come to see me anymore.”

I try to talk, but the faded jewels of my words took not only my question but my voice as well.

I feel dampness on my cheek.

I feel dampness on my arm.

It is beginning to rain.

I turn my face upward and the rain turns to blood.

I am alone now.

The cold downpour of blood soaks me.

Envelops me.

Its iciness burns me.

I try to scream as the pain bores inward.

I watch in horror as my body begins to disintegrate.

Skin peels away in rigid, frozen strips…

Followed by muscle, frost burned and crumbling…

And finally bone, gelid, brittle and shattering…

I am no more…

A hollow, pounding noise thumped inside my head. A moment later it repeated and was followed by the distant, muffled sound of a voice buzzing in my ears. “Rowan, it’s Constance. Open the door.”

There was a short pause then another round of the hollow thumping. This time the voice that came in its wake sounded far more concerned. “Rowan! It’s Constance. Can you hear me?!”

Hearing her was the easy part. Responding was something else entirely. I could feel that my entire body was shaking against the unearthly cold. The burn beneath my skin was eating its way inward, and I wanted to scream. Unfortunately, my jaw was clenched so tightly I couldn’t even manage a whimper.

“Rowan!” the muffled voice called to me again. “Answer me!”

Something brushed my hand and pain exploded through my soul. I could feel myself trying to withdraw from the touch.

Another muffled voice joined the first. I couldn’t understand what it said, but it sounded almost as frantic. An electronic rendition of the William Tell Overture began chirping in my ears once again.

After that I heard nothing because the darkness was coming to take me back.

I’m running.

The rain has stopped, and this time I am not alone.

A cold fire is chasing me.

I can feel it blistering my back with its gelid fingers.

I open my mouth to scream but can project only silence in a deafening wave.

The fire catches me.

Consumes me.

I am no more…

“Rowan.” The distantly familiar voice lances my ears again.

Ariel is still holding my hand.

I look at her and she cocks her head to the side. “Stay with me, Rowan. I will protect you. Come… She’s waiting. She’s been waiting for you for a very long time.”

I try to talk again. “Who is waiting for me, Ariel?”

The words rattle inside my skull, but when I open my mouth to speak them, only silence spews forth from my lips. I can literally see it spreading out from me-a dense cloud of nothing, creating an acoustic void in its wake.

Ariel gently presses two fingers against my lips and shakes her head.

“Come with me,” she says. “She’s waiting.”

We’re walking…

Constance Mandalay’s voice ricocheted around inside my ear canal before finally connecting with my brain and allowing it to eavesdrop. She sounded as if she was nearby. Sharp and clear, as opposed to the earlier muddied tone.

“Someone from the hotel is calling nine-one-one,” she said, her voice businesslike but edged with concern. “No… He’s on the floor, shaking like he’s having some type of seizure. Yes, I guess it could be one of his trances.”

I could still feel myself vibrating from the intensity of the cold. Every inch of my skin prickled like countless needles were being repeatedly plunged into it, and my head felt as if it was going to split open and spill its contents at any moment.

I heard her say, “No, he’s not bleeding this time… Yes, I’ve tried that… No… Dammit, Ben, I can’t just sit here and watch. Yes, I know that’s what he says, but… I know… I think maybe I should call Felicity.”

I wanted to scream “no,” but the returning darkness wouldn’t let me.