Chapter 3

Westwood was a suburb of New York City, nestled in Northern New Jersey. Peaceful and Rockwellian, there was hardly any crime, however its lush trees and shadowy side streets created a veil of the unknown beyond the main roads. Norm jogged down Old Hook Road along the tree-lined sidewalk. The post-midnight still made the normally busy street an eerie path to travel, but Norm prided himself as fearless. He stopped at the traffic light to check for cars, even though he had not seen one since leaving the hospital. For a moment, he appreciated the sound of the world, the insects, an unseen orchestra, the breeze whistling, rattling the leaves like nature’s chimes. Gazing up at the stars and for a split second, a sense of calm washed over him. What a crazy week. He exhaled and took a slow deep draw at the night’s rich air- to find it suddenly gone. For that matter, the wind, the leaves and even the insects were gone.

Norm tried to inhale again; his breath sucked out by a vacuum. He clutched his chest. Panic consumed him. Norm stumbled across the street and collapsed face down into a patch of dewy grass. He clenched the turf into his fists, straining to pull any bit of oxygen into his lungs. Down to instinct, tears of pain wrenched from his bulging eyes. A grim chill crept up his spine, paralyzing him.

Norm’s vision fluttered, his fingertips tingled, the last bit of his life-force fading. Lord, help me. He no sooner finished the thought than the sounds of the world returned. The breeze, the leaves and finally- air! His breath returned as quickly as it vanished. Norm rolled over, inhaling. He lay flat on his back for a second, wondering if the air would vanish again.

Stumbling to his feet, Norm lumbered the first few steps before breaking into a sprint. He faded into the distance, ignoring the temptation to look back.

The creature watched. He was not the one it sought. Still, its hunger was hard to ignore, so it had taken a taste. It slid from the darkness of the trees like the shadow of a snake. Standing upright on powerful rear haunches, its smooth black hide patched with coarse fibers. Its head bore a resemblance to a serpent marked by a pair of soulless crimson slits for eyes. Though its skin was glossy, without flaw, it did not reflect the glow of the traffic signal and instead drew the light into its own aura of gloom.

The demon crouched, a hell-spawned bloodhound, sensing the essence of its prey. It crept to the spot where Norm had fallen and pressed its face to the grass. The one it sought was close. The beast ripped handfuls of sod into its clawed fists, rose on its hind legs and shrieked, the collective wail of infinite souls. Trembling with bloodlust, it leapt into the back into the shadows to seek its prey.

Dylan’s sleep was anything but peaceful. His dreams shifted erratically, his subconscious struggling with the type of loss that leaves a giant crater in your world. Vaguely aware he was dreaming, he remembered Norm talking about his mother, how he felt she was there, but never was.

The haze of the dreamscape cleared. Dylan lay on his back, his arms bound, though he had no wish to struggle against his comforting captor. The splintered sunlight and multi-colored leaves weaved like a kaleidoscope against the muffin clouds and blue sky. A shadow flittered into his paradise.

“A butterfly,” a gentle, airy voice spoke. He knew the voice.

My angel. The woman’s face was harmonious with the world around her. Her radiant skin blended with medium-length, loose blond curls. Wide blue eyes, full of love, stared past Dylan’s, into his soul.

“She starts her life on the ground as a caterpillar,” the angel smiled, stroking his face, “but soon, she changes into the most beautiful creation, a rainbow with wings.” The breeze suddenly chill. Her eyes narrowed, fierce, protective. “You too may change someday and become something more. You will be vulnerable.” Her gaze locked. “But I promise, I will always be there to protect you.”

Never in his life had Dylan been happier. A snug tingle rushed from his belly. Is this my mother? He wondered, still aware he was dreaming, and his happiness would end. He had no memory of her, but Dylan absorbed her image as she hummed a lullaby. He lay in her arms for what seemed like hours, eventually drifting within his own dream. The gravity of sleep drawing him away from his perfect moment, sandbags of tranquility pulling his eyelids shut. He fought the weight of his slumber and closed his eyes for only an instant, yet when they opened, it was as if they hadn’t.

Dylan blinked. No light. Only pitch. He reached forward and took a few steps before he bumped into a wall. Tracing his hand along the solid surface to his left, he found a corner. After only two steps, he found another. He turned back; the first wall even closer. I’m trapped! He stretched his arms wide; the space collapsing from all sides, overhead, the ceiling right on top of him. The tomb drew inward. He pushed against the walls, but they only stuck to him, like living tar, wrapping tighter around him. Dylan’s breath slipped past his lips, pulled by an unseen force. He closed his mouth, holding what air he had left. Encased in blackness, Dylan closed his eyes. The Tree. The obsidian giant from the cemetery, aglow with white-blue flames. The nightmare prison gripped his shoulders and chest, squeezing his lungs until the pressure reached his throat.

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The tree fluxed in his mind’s eye, its flame flickering, fading, fear setting in. The tree’s fire almost gone, a faint silhouette on the astral horizon, his final breath. All the pain in his life was here now, beyond physical agony, darkness boring into his soul. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t even gasp. Then he heard them, a thousand or more voices, “We are not alone.” They repeated, louder, clearer until the chants became one familiar voice, Max. “We are all one. Arise!”

Dylan’s eyes snapped open like a window shade. Out of breath, he instinctively inhaled, visions flashing in his mind. A bit rattled, Dylan reached for his water and knocked it over. Painfully aware he was still limited by the catheter, he pressed the call button on the rail of the hospital bed.

A minute later, a bubbly young nurse glided through the door wearing a huge grin. “You’re awake!” she exclaimed, picking up his chart.

“Uh, guess so.”

“I’m Kelly. I’m your nurse.” She held his gaze for a few seconds, her eyes genuine and kind. “Actually, I’ve been with you for the last three days. Well… nights. Anyway, it’s nice to finally meet you.” She shrugged her petite shoulders.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Dylan. But I guess you know that.” He grinned bashfully. “I’m really sorry to bug you, but I knocked my water over and-”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She picked up the cup and continued looking over his chart. Dylan studied her, taking notice of her wavy brown hair tied into a shoulder length ponytail. He had become increasingly aware of girls lately. Only a few years older, Dylan marveled at how in control she seemed performing her job. “The doctor says you can have water, but only a little. You haven’t eaten for a few days, and I don’t want you to get sick. Be right back.” She said and slipped out the door.

How lucky am I? He thought when the realization he was wearing nothing but a hospital gown and had a tube in his wiener made him cringe with embarrassment. Before he could ponder the situation further, he heard a thud outside his door.

Dylan’s gut twisted hard, sensing something more than a little wrong. The room went silent, the light from the hallway faded. His intuition told him to move. The door swung open, darkness filled the hall like a storm cloud. Dylan studied the ebony haze and climbed out of bed. He hooked the catheter-bag on the IV pole and tiptoed sideways when his breath slipped past his lips and the door slammed against the wall.

The creature catapulted from the gloom and tackled Dylan, tearing the IV from his arm. The momentum carried them into the wall, knocking what little breath Dylan had from him. The beast clutched his throat, pinning him against the wall. “Feeeaaaarrrrr,” the serpent-faced shadow hissed, its over-sized, misshapen mouth dripping with death. It glared through the anti-glow of its venomous shade, crimson eyes boiling with hatred. Dylan’s lungs burned, his body drained of his life force. The creature’s chest heaved with lust, feeding on Dylan’s fear. “Weeeeak Guaaardian.” it sliced a claw down Dylan’s cheek, leaving a line of blood. Pain consumed him from inside out. It would be over soon.

“Weeeeeak like Maaaaaax.”

The sound of Max’s name burned inside him. A rage so deep, fire erupted from Dylan’s center, down his right arm, engulfing his fist in white-blue light. Desperate, he struck the demon in the chest, an audible crack of electricity knocking the creature against the far wall. Dylan found the air again and inhaled as much as he could. The beast writhed in obvious pain.

Dylan looked at his fist, bewildered by the residual glow. It diminished quickly, along with his remaining strength. His vision blurred, the room tilted, spinning faster, downward, to the floor. The creature, sensing his prey’s vulnerability, crept toward him to finish the job. The demon hunched over Dylan, draining him faster than before, when a light flashed behind it. The beast hissed, coiling to defend itself. The light materialized into a shining silver-white figure. Dylan tried to make out the blurred shape.

“Back to your hole, void,” its voice hummed with metallic vibration. The hunter shrieked, recklessly charging the luminous figure. With an effortless side-step, it struck the beast with two glowing daggers in its torso and neck. Its death cry was cut short by an electric sizzling noise before it vaporized into black smoke. The white figure walked slowly towards Dylan and towered above him.

Dylan climbed to his knees, dazed, barely able to lift his head. “What do you want?” He struggled to focus on the entity. “Are you going to kill me?”

The being paused, scanning the room before speaking. “No, but others will try. You are still vulnerable. You must begin your journey or…” The robotic voice hinted of concern when it heard a flurry of voices rushing down the hall, growing louder. As Dylan’s vision cleared, he saw the figure stood well over six feet tall, clad in crystal armor like liquid steel. The figure put a finger to where its lips would be before it was engulfed in light and vanished.

“Kelly!” a voice yelled from the hallway. A burly nurse, who looked more like a truck driver, barreled into Dylan’s room. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Dylan looked up from the floor. “I just wanted some water.”