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Chapter seven: Enlightenment

  I was in a dingy house corridor, narrow with smooth light green walls that were waving like flags in a high wind.

  Unreal picture.

  I felt a little dizzy. I thought my eyes were lying to me. No doors, no arches, just a staircase at the very end of the corridor that led upstairs. Behind me, the walls stretched into the darkness; there was no way to turn back, only ahead.

  I started forward slowly. I was wary, and I could hear the blood pulsating in my ears. Although the corridor was empty, the air was filled with low whispers, impalpable voices swirling around my head like little invisible birds.

  I don’t remember how I reached the stairs, or if I had ever reached them, but all of a sudden I found myself standing in front of a cream-colored door, the whispers still sounding in my head, trying to tell me something. But their voices were in vain, I couldn’t make out a word; they were speaking in tones that were either too hushed, or in a different tongue.

  My brain seemed to have frozen up and was deprived of any thoughts. My gut feeling led me to that door.

  What did they want me to do? Enter?

  “You’re drunk. Get out of the room!” A woman’s voice full of anger came from the other side of the door. I stood frozen, my ears straining. “Don’t touch me,” she yelled hysterically. “Get out! I told you never to come back drunk.”

  I waited for a response from the other person, the one who the woman was speaking to. There had to be someone, in all probability a man, her husband maybe, but he was showing reticence.

  As I waited, I heard a loud slap, followed by the woman’s cry of pain. Shoving the door open, I hurried in.

  It was a bedroom. The windows were open, and white curtains blew gently in the breeze. A double bed lay in front of me, its sheets crumpled up in a pile on the floor.

  The woman was lying facedown on the bed, holding her face in her hands. Dressed in a black jacket and pants, her hair was a tangled mess and fell down over her back. Alone, she lay there weeping loudly.

  “Please, don’t hit Mommy,” Melissa’s trembling voice reached me from behind. I jerked back, but the threshold remained empty, just as I had left it. “Please, don’t hurt her, please!” The girl proceeded to beg the person who had been doing the beating, presumably her father.

  “Get out Jonathan, get out! Not for me, for your daughter,” the woman blurted in her sobbing voice.

  I was puzzled. She was talking to me, and I had no words to say back. I was speechless. My mouth remained firmly closed.

  Suddenly, I was swallowed up by darkness, the girl’s clear and embedded voice continuing to ring chillingly deep in my head, “Are you okay, Mommy? He’s gone, he left. I hate him. Don’t worry, when I grow up, I’ll kill him for what he’s done to you. You’ll see.”

  And then silence, absolute silence.

  I was standing amidst the darkness like I was part of it, again having zero strength to think or to cry or even to move.

  A new picture appeared before me–a large metallic-looking desk standing alone in a dimly lit room. A lone lantern sent light reflecting across a number of small objects lying on the desk–wads of money scattered over the table.

  I realized I was able to move again. With hollow footsteps I shuffled forward to the desk for a closer inspection. As I approached, the light of the lamp flickered and sparked. Taking a closer look, I could see drops of blood appearing on the green papers.

  I swear to God just a moment before I had been alone, but now there was a chunky-looking man rocking back and forth in his chair directly behind the desk.

  Any other day, I would have been shocked, or surprised, but after everything that had happened nothing really fazed me anymore.

  The sitting man was splattered in his own blood that was trickling down his forehead and chest. Had he just been murdered? It certainly seemed that way. A bullet had pierced his forehead with great precision; the killing had been carried out by an assassin, a professional.

  As I tried to examine his face, the light went out, bringing back the darkness.

  “Jonathan! Hey! Can you hear me? Jonathan?” This voice was familiar, but where had I heard it? It was a woman’s voice full of soft sincerity and sweet song.

  “Jonathan, open your eyes,” that was unmistakably a man’s voice.

  I did as I was told.

  The darkness disappeared and was replaced by a gloomy light. I found myself lying on a cold wooden floor, staring up at a dirty-looking cobwebbed ceiling. My brain reverted, letting me think again. I licked my lips, my mouth obeying me easily.

  “Lucky son of a bitch,” the man sounded cheerful now.

  I raised my eyes and they worked their way to my left. Red hair, brown miserable eyes. Elizabeth was kneeling down beside me with one hand placed on my shoulder and the other resting on my chest.

  I recognized the man too. His expression was one you couldn’t forget. Actually, his face was one you couldn’t forget, with one mysterious eye peeking through and the other concealed behind an old rag.

  Malcolm. Dressed in a camel brown coat, he smiled down at me, not a pleased smile, rather a strange one that carried a hint of deceit.

  “Hey,” I crooned as I struggled into a sitting position. My body felt beaten.

  “Take your time,” Elizabeth said worriedly. “Do you feel dizzy or sick?”

  “No. What happened?” She held my hand and helped me to sit up. “How long was I out?”

  “Those demons from the storm attacked you just as you were at the door,” Elizabeth began explaining. “You jumped in, but one of them hooked you, and you fell to the floor, unconscious.”

  “Those things in the storm are very powerful and fast,” Malcolm said, his smile fading away. “An inch more and it would have seized you and…” he trailed off averting his eyes.

  “I guess I don’t wanna know what would have happened then,” I murmured and looked into Elizabeth’s eyes that were gleaming now, sure because I had survived.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  This voice caught the three of us off guard and made us leap back to the bar. I realized we were in the café, and the angry voice belonged to the plump woman who ran it. All dressed up this time, with her hands on her hips, she watched us furiously, just like the doglike animals had been sizing us up–annoyed, with hatred and full of malice. My subconscious told me that she was going to fall upon us and tear us up into pieces, but thank God, Malcolm was beside me.

  “They are with me,” he said. “They’ll stay here until the storm passes and then they will leave.”

  “This is not a motel for lovebirds, Malcolm,” she shouted, banging her fist down on the table.

  The bottles rattled with the force of her heavy hand. One glass fell down and shattered into a million different crystal-like pieces right next to Elizabeth. She recoiled as though she had just seen a poisonous snake.

  “You think coming and ordering drinks allows you to bring anyone in here and hide from the storm when my brothers and sisters are seeking such fresh souls?” She jabbed her finger towards me. Our eyes met and for a second, I could swear, I saw puffs of smoke in those black holes.

  What had she meant saying her brothers and sisters? Who was she? Were those scary, fierce faces with almost invisible bodies and wings related to her?

  “We’ll buy everything you want. Let us stay, where are we supposed to go?” I said bravely.

  “Shut up, you miserable little soul,” she hissed in a hushed voice. Her right hand balled into a fist and real flames encircled it, flickering in the air.

  Having seen this town, ugly dogs, a deadly storm and evil demons, I doubted her flaming fist would catch me by surprise, but we obviously didn’t need her wrath either.

  Elizabeth moved slightly back, putting her hand over her mouth in horror. A chill ran up her neck.

  “I hate such smug people like you. You little brat! You’ve got your own house, why don’t you go there?”

&
nbsp; She was another one wanting me to go into that damned house. There was definitely a mysterious and inconceivable secret lying in it. Why else would everyone be trying to push me towards it?

  Malcolm took a step towards her and stood between us, “Do me one last favor. I won’t ask you for anything else again. You’re not like your brothers and sisters, you’re different. You have your own mind, your own place,” he opened his arms wide indicating the café. “Let them stay and you won’t see them again afterwards. Me either,” he added after a pause.

  For a little while there was silence. A silence mixed with the somber creaking of the storm.

  She was talking to herself, muttering, wondering what to do with us. Then, all of a sudden, she turned on her heels and left.

  I wondered what was lurking behind that door where she had entered and left. However, I wasn’t going to push my luck by trying to find out. We were lucky enough not to have been booted out, back into that vicious storm’s path.

  Malcolm sighed in relief, “She doesn’t like unwelcome guests,” he explained under his breath.

  “That was obvious,” I said and struggled back onto my feet. My clothes were dusty; my white undershirt was spotted with black stubborn stains.

  “When her mood is right, she’s much better than those others out in the storm,” Malcolm explained.

  “Who is she? She isn’t human, is she?”

  “Not exactly. She’s a resident as are the storm’s demons and those ugly dogs you met. She just prefers the look of a human. It’s her way of seducing others into her café. Then she sucks them dry, draining their souls slowly and painfully. She likes watching people suffer. You won’t find a good whiskey or wine on the counter.” Malcolm came up to the bar, and the broken pieces of the glass crunched beneath his boots. “These are her special recipes. You drink, and you don’t notice her sucking your soul ever so slowly. She isn’t greedy, she only takes a little bit each time,” he poured a drink into a glass–a dense, murky yellow liquid. Small bubbles formed as it boiled itself without any heat. “Would you like?” He pointed to the bottle.

  I shook my head remembering the last drink he had ordered for me.

  “What do you mean? How does she suck souls?” Elizabeth frowned at him.

  “Every human soul has a special energy. It’s what the demons feed off. I don’t know what it is exactly, but when they suck it out…Oh God, it tortures you, it burns,” he drained his glass, pursed his lips and went on. “Her drinks are like pain killers. They alleviate the burning sensation.”

  “Then why was she sending her meal away.” When I said the word meal, I meant us–Elizabeth and I. She could have got us drunk and sucked our souls, or whatever Malcolm had said.

  “She’s sentimental,” he answered shortly.

  I looked around the café again; nothing had changed, the tables were clean and the chairs were empty. Maybe the only difference was the windows covered with more dust than last time I was here.

  I felt giddy. I put my hand to rest on my head and closed my eyes for a moment.

  “How do you feel?” Elizabeth asked reaching for my hand.

  “Well, there were worse things in the past, I guess.”

  “You can remember something worse than this town?” Malcolm asked in a surprised voice. “There is nothing worse than here, other than hell, maybe.”

  “Okay, so we’re not in hell?” Elizabeth asked cheerfully. “At least we have one piece of good news.”

  “She hopes we aren’t dead yet,” I told Malcolm. “But if we aren’t in hell then where are we?” I looked piercingly into his eyes, demanding an answer. “You know, Malcolm, don’t you? Spit it out!”

  He shook his head and paced towards the table. He looked out the window curiously. What was he hoping to find outside?

  “Is it true? Do you know what this town is?” Elizabeth spluttered.

  “I want to hear your opinion first, Jonathan,” Malcolm replied quietly. “What do you think about these abnormal animals? What about these empty streets? What do you think about these superhuman powers you have?”

  “You forgot to ask me about my lost memories,” I chuckled sarcastically. Holding Elizabeth’s hand I led her towards Malcolm.

  Nothing could be seen outside, the storm had covered the whole town. “I have two options. Either this is some sort of experiment town running by scientists, a pack of crazy bitches that have been doing experiments on animals and humans. We were abducted, poisoned to erase our memories, given a new discovered lectin that would charge us with superhuman power and sent here to fight, survive. Or, I believed I was dead, but you say we aren’t in hell. It means we’re alive and–”

  “Also we might be abducted by aliens,” Elizabeth interrupted but Malcolm ignored her.

  “I said we weren’t in hell, I didn’t say we weren’t dead,” Malcolm eyed me up with a smug smile across his face.

  Elizabeth and I both stood frozen. This town was definitely not Heaven, and it had materialized that it was not hell either. So, where the hell were we?

  “What is life to you Jonathan?” he asked. “You don’t remember your past, but you must have had some kind of visions. What were you before you woke up in the desert? The answer to where you are now lies there, back in your previous life. Remember, when you asked me your first question, I said it was wrong one.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered tilting my head. “I guess I know the right one now.”

  “Really? Go on then.”

  “What have I done to deserve this town?”

  “Bingo,” Malcolm’s eyes twinkled in delight, he appeared happy that I was finally getting somewhere with my inquisition. “What was it you each did to end up here? That’s the question I had pondered over myself for a very long time. What have all the residents in this town done wrong in their past lives to find themselves stuck here in limbo?”

  “Excuse me,” Elizabeth joined our conversation. “But if we’ve done bad things before, and now we’re dead, then why can’t we call this town hell?”

  “Because you are not fully dead,” Malcolm replied loftily.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she demanded indignantly. “Jonathan, this sounds absolutely insane. I really appreciate that you helped us defeat that monster on the street. I appreciate that you saved us sir, but I’m not going to listen to…”

  “Look, woman,” Malcolm cut her off dryly. He was growing increasingly grumpy. “Are you blind? Where on Earth can you find such storm? Where on Earth can you see such hideous dogs such as the ones that are guarding the houses? Those soul-eating creatures are waiting for us. If you want, leave. Let them capture you, then you’ll see what will happen!”

  “Soul-eaters?” Elizabeth repeated dumbfounded.

  “Demons flying in the storm,” I guessed. “Horrible faces with long teeth and transparent bodies. I saw them.”

  “You’re lucky they let you pass,” Malcolm reassured me. “They will stay here until the storm weakens and eventually passes. I have seen them brutally tear apart poor souls who appeared outside naïvely. They showed no mercy. There was no way you could have a conversation with them and try to reason with them. If they caught up with you, you wouldn’t be able to beg. They’re remorseless creatures. It’s their job to seize souls, our souls, human’s souls.”

  Fear was evident in Elizabeth’s face as soon as Malcolm trailed off. I could feel her terror that consumed her as quickly as if the floodgates had been opened, bringing torrents of dread with them.

  “We aren’t human’s anymore?” I asked. “I mean these are our souls, aren’t they. Or have I been separated from my body?”

  “I can’t tell you for sure what we are now,” Malcolm sighed. He pulled up the nearest chair and perched on its edge. “What I’m guessing is that these, I mean WE are our souls and our souls have been given a human’s look. Somehow they are directly connected to our bodies, therefore we can still feel.”

  “Like an internet connection?”
I teased.

  “Like whatever your brain can think,” Malcolm said dryly not amused at my attempts to be funny. He raised his right hand and pointed at the window. “This is the beauty of this place. It takes your memories and gives you nothing in return. All you get is a few measly visions from your past, that’s it. It’s up to you to guess the rest. It’s your job to fill in the gaps and connect the dots. Both of you had visions, didn’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “Those visions,” he went on, “They make a lot of people crazy. If you lose control of them, you’re finished, done! With time, they become more frequent. It gets kind of confusing, and it makes you wonder whether it’s all a dream. You doubt which the dream is–the town or your visions. You lose the sense of reality afterwards. Though, if I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t really have any idea which one is real myself. But, at least I can feel, which leads me to believe that this town is realer than the visions.”

  I glanced out the window, with disgust remembering those nasty-looking faces that roamed about purposefully, accompanying the storm, and the desperate eerie whining of the wind. Although we couldn’t see the demons now, I could distinctly feel their presence.

  I managed to tear my eyes away from the window. Sitting down just in front of Malcolm, I pointed to the chair next to me, indicating for Elizabeth to join me. “This means we are stuck between life and death, aren’t we?”

  Malcolm lifted his eye to look at me. I didn’t need him to confirm my words. He murmured, “Yes. Practically, we are dead or in a coma back there on Earth.” Elizabeth and I exchanged a look. “You know how it works. You must have heard of such a thing happening before. You’ve heard of people coming back from the dead, haven’t you? You might die for a minute on Earth, but wander here for almost eternity.”

  “How long have you been here?” That was Elizabeth, her voice barely a whisper.

  Malcolm dropped his stare to look at her, “Several eternities, my dear.” He grinned slightly.

  “Haven’t you tried to get out of here? There should be a way back to our bodies, right?” Elizabeth looked up at me enthusiastically, her eyes filled with hope, waiting for me to confirm her suppositions.

  “I haven’t, because the way back for me is beyond my reach,” Malcolm said gloomily. “It won’t show itself for me, but it’ll reveal itself around you,” he gestured towards me. Three eyes (Elizabeth’s two and Malcolm’s one) fell on me. If my own had been able to unlatch themselves from my face and observe me from another’s perspective, they would have looked at me in a distracted manner, just like Elizabeth’s.

  “Me?” I heard my stunned voice. “Why me?”

  “You haven’t been to your house yet, have you?” Malcolm leaned in from his chair. His chest pushed against the table, he brought his face closer to mine.

  I shook my head in response.

  “Why? What kind of man are you that you didn’t have any powerful visions that seduced you into your house? I’m just curious.”

  Powerless, I just stared at Malcolm. His question had made me wonder.

  What kind of man are you? Malcolm’s words replayed in my mind over and over again, spinning fast, a hundred times in a second. That’s how fast my mind was racing.

  “He was just about to enter,” Elizabeth spoke on my behalf.

  She saw that I had grown perplexed and confused by Malcolm’s rude question. His voice was different to the words that escaped his mouth. They were asking me: what kind of monster were you back in life that the powerful visions had no influence on you?

  Had I been a monster in life?

  In the same instance I recalled one of my visions, remembering that woman, the one who had been sobbing, the one who had shouted at me, insisting that I leave her house. And then there had been the little girl, her daughter. She had tearfully begged me not to hurt her mommy. I had seen them a few times since that depressing moment when I had awoken in the middle of the desert.

  “He was standing there gawking at me for a bit, he contemplated everything for a moment or two and let go of the door handle.” Elizabeth was trying to back me up as she explained the circumstances to Malcolm. She continued, “At that moment Jonathan realized what the town was like and what those dogs or whatever you call them were trying to get him to do. Instead of entering the house he chose to fight.”

  She was making me out to be a hero, but her words couldn’t make me feel better anymore. I finally understood everything that was going on; I hadn’t been a good man in my time of living, I had harmed the closest and dearest people in my life. I had done bad, unthinkable things to people; I might even have killed people.

  My way of life had caused me to end up spending my time between life and death in this hellish town called ‘Morsfinis’. What did the name mean anyway?

  “Jonathan,” Malcolm’s voice jolted me back from my thoughts. I inhaled deeply waiting for him to talk. “What did you see when you stood in front of your house for the first time?”

  I had seen a girl, a little girl waiting for her father; and then her mother looking down the road at the place where her husband should appear.

  What if that husband and father was me? What if they had been waiting for me appear?

  “How can I understand what’s going to lead me out of this town?” I changed the subject abruptly. Malcolm realized I didn’t want to talk about my visions anymore. He didn’t urge me on. “You should know, Malcolm. I doubt I’m the first one who has ever come back from the dead. There must have been others passing through, just like me, right?”

  “There were indeed,” he agreed. “I’ve seen several of you.”

  “Did they make it?” Elizabeth interrupted quickly, her eyes gleaming again. She clung to the hope of us escaping an endless life in this town.

  “Yes,” Malcolm sighed, taking a little time to answer. “They had a mighty power just like you do,” he added pointing to me to confirm it. “It helped them defeat the monsters that lurk in the dark. These people who had the power, like Jonathan does now, get strong at very quick rates. Very soon you’ll possess the most unearthly power. You’ll be able to smash every demon standing in your way.”

  “But why me? What is so special about me?” As I wondered, the answer fell into my lap. “It’s because I still haven’t entered my home, right?” Malcolm did not answer. His silence implied he wanted to hear my opinion. “Both you and the barwoman were surprised when I said I hadn’t any house in the town. You both realized that I hadn’t been seduced and lured into my house by the visions I was having. Am I right?”

  “Of course,” Malcolm nodded. “When you enter your house you make an unbreakable connection with it. The house is strong, stronger than any human soul and it sucks your power, gives you visions and prisons you.”

  Elizabeth lowered her eyes. She surely went back to her house and relived the uncountable time she had spent there. Unless me she was now directly connected to her house.

  “I knew you’d be special, that you somehow managed to pass by your house regardless of its attempts to lure you in,” Malcolm was telling. “I knew and I even helped you.”

  “Helped me? How the fuck did you help me? You offered me that fuckin’ disgusting, noxious drink that made me have more visions, visions that I didn’t need to have.” I was getting hot under the collar, and I could feel my voice growing in frustration and anger. “You laughed at me. I guess I was sitting right here the whole time with a completely blank face. What did you give me, by the way?”

  “I gave you time, you ungrateful man!” he cried out angrily.

  “Ungrateful? Yes, I’m ungrateful to the man who got me so drunk I lost my senses. I’m so ungrateful to the man who left me alone in this place with that soul-sucking bitch. Hah, you gave me time? Time for what, exactly?”

  “Time to regain your power, idiot. If you want to get out of this place, you have to make a sacrifice. Just a little from your soul won’t destroy it. You gave it to her, but at the sam
e time you have possessed the power, which is why you’re sitting here now. Without such power, you wouldn’t be able to sit right here in front of me now, understand?”

  “Stop insulting him,” Elizabeth chimed in, her voice full of accusation and displeasure, “You poisoned him and now you’re calling him ungrateful.”

  “Look lady, I poisoned him to buy more time for him,” Malcolm said discontentedly. “He was weak when he entered the café, apparent from the outset that if I allowed him to leave, the dogs would have ripped him apart, either that or they would have hounded him all the way to his house. He exhaled deeply trying to calm his voice and looked at me, annoyed, then spoke again, “As I said before, your power grows, but at that moment you were too weak. I did you a favor. You could fight the dogs, but not the monster. I decided to play my role in your struggle against it.”

  Silence fell upon us. Shame washed over me. I felt ashamed for screaming at him like some crazy bastard.

  Malcolm was right; I was stronger than I had been in Elizabeth’s house. If I had had the power I had now back then, I would have surely defeated the monster that was there.

  Malcolm fished out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one. He placed the pack on the table indicating to me to help myself. I wanted to smoke, but I was afraid of ending up in a dream again. Malcolm rocked back on his chair and intertwined his fingers while the cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. I averted my eyes and peered out the window again.

  “So, let me get this right. Only the ones who never entered their houses have the power?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No. The ones who have entered will get power too, but they’ll get it much slower,” Malcolm replied flippantly as the smoke billowed out his nostrils like a dragon. “Nothing but pain works here properly. Muscles are in no use here. You know why? Because this isn’t our body, it’s our soul, so it doesn’t have any muscle,” he grinned slightly smoke escaping his mouth lazily.

  “How long have you been here?” Elizabeth asked in astonishment, forgetting that she was asking him the same question for the second time. “I witnessed your power when you fought that monster away. You could summon high wind. Your punch is unusually mighty.”

  “If this makes you comfortable, then I’ve been here far too long. You see, everyone who comes here does leave the town in the end. If you don’t make it back to earth then your body will die one day, and you and your house will eventually disappear from here. Nobody knows how long it will take. When a house and its resident disappear, the house next to it moves into its place automatically. Just so you know, my house is one of the first ones in the town. Now work out how long I’ve been stuck here.”

  Elizabeth’s mind wandered off, and I wondered whether she was trying to do the math and figure it all out.

  “But I think something is wrong with the real me. Some houses came and passed mine, and then they disappeared, but mine is stuck at almost the end of the road,” Malcolm resumed.

  “Malcolm,” I interrupted gently, much gentler than I had spoken before. With clasped hands, he looked at me. “Where do the people like me go? How do they find the way out of town?”

  “It’s easy to find Jonathan, but it’s difficult to reach. You need to reach the very end of the road where the light is being emitted from the sky. That’s your destination and therefore that must be your way out. I saw the first one like you from the window of my house. To tell the truth I hung about in my house too long, it had almost reached the end of the town when I first left it. I needed to gather my supernatural power and endure the strength that was holding me in the house. That was the first time I saw the mighty power of those who didn’t have a house. Jonathan, you need to understand one thing. You have to deal the town with its residents. There are some residents who are going to try very hard to stand in your way. They envy you.”

  “Why? Because I have the opportunity to get out and they don’t?”

  “Exactly! They think if they can’t leave, nobody can. The first passerby I saw was a woman of about fifty, I guess. During her journey through the town she had learned how to use and manipulate her power, and she got into fights with the other residents.”

  Malcolm laughed under his breath remembering the woman’s struggle. He had taken the cigarette from his mouth and was holding it before my face. I breathed it in greedily, my lungs longing to smoke.

  “She destroyed some of them; the others ran back into their houses. I suppose if she had had time, she would have ruined their houses too, but she thought better of it and disappeared into the light.”

  “She killed them? But how could she kill them if they were already dead?” Elizabeth inquired. I looked at her reddened cheeks. She bit her lips and for a second I felt a powerful desire to taste them.

  “She couldn’t kill them,” Malcolm detracted my attention away from her. “They will stay in this town with their bodies split into pieces until their time comes.”

  “Awful,” Elizabeth cried out and her face contorted into disgust.

  “That’s not the worst part. They will exist in agony, and they’ll feel those stray beast-like dogs gnaw hungrily on their remains until their very end.”

  “Stop, please,” she begged covering her face with her hands in horror. I thought she was sobbing silently, envisaging the gruesome picture Malcolm had just painted.

  I was about to ask Malcolm why he had told Elizabeth such dire things, but I soon realized that even this man, who had already helped me twice, was just as bad, just as hideous and as manic as all the other residents. I would never dream of retelling such a horrid story to a woman as nice as Elizabeth. Who knew what I’d become if I stayed in the town for as long as Malcolm had.

  “When will this storm fade away?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know. Time is almost non-existent here. There are no days, no nights, I can’t tell you anything for sure, you’ve just got to wait. You haven’t acquired as much power as you could wander in the storm amongst the soul-eaters.”

  I wasn’t. Just a slight hook on me had passed me out.

  I put my hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and tried to soothe her. “Are you okay? You have to be strong Elizabeth. We have a long way to go.” I tried to reassure her and encourage her at the same time.

  “Yes, I’m okay,” she said through her tears, but her face was still hidden. Wiping her eyes and nose, she managed to give me an affectionate smile.

  Malcolm broke into a sudden laugh. Both Elizabeth and I stared at him.

  “What’s funny?” I asked exasperated.

  “Nothing,” he laughed and stood up. “You do have a long journey with her.” He turned his back to me and slunk off to the far end of the café.

  I didn’t know what he had meant, but I would figure that out later, alone without Elizabeth around. I reached for the pack of cigarettes he had left behind and lit one.