Chapter Eighteen

He didn’t know what possessed him to make the call, but when Vince found a decent hotel, he called Professor Krieger and asked if he believed in what his father had written in his book.

“I believe that it is very possible that Dreamkillers are real and that a man named Orion once lived,” Krieger answered. “But why are you asking me this now? If memory serves, you told me you didn’t find time to read the book and that you and your father didn’t talk all that much.”

“My father was murdered by Allen Corgan. You remember the name?”

There was a pause between them. “The name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“He killed himself to serve Orion.”

“Oh yeah. Allen, now I remember. Are you sure he killed your father? I thought his lungs collapsed.”

Vince grimaced at the memory – he never found out what actually caused the death; now he knows Allen either smothered him or else he found a way to crush his lungs. “Is there any way that you could do a background check on Allen for me? Find out what he was like when he was alive?”

“I guess I could try. But why do you want this info? What could you use it for?”

Vince turned and momentarily watched Samantha sleeping in the bed. “I want to know how the bastard lived. I might be able to find some way to stop him before he gets,” he suddenly stopped and remembered he had not told Krieger everything.

“Wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about? He’s dead.”

Vince dropped his head and shook it. What to tell him?

In the next hour – he couldn’t wait to see this phone bill – Vince had opened up completely and told Krieger everything that he knew and what had happened in the past several days. He confided that he didn’t know how a spirit could gain powers that Allen seemed to possess.

“If what you say is true, then it really doesn’t matter how he got the powers. What matters is how do we stop him now that he has these powers?”

Vince stood up so fast that the chair fell onto its back. “What do you mean by we? All I need you to do is research Allen. That’s it.”

Krieger sighed. “All right. You should be back in a day or two. When you get Samantha into a hospital and have her checked out (I pray she’ll be all right) we’ll get together and discuss what we’ve got. From there we will discuss a battle plan.”

“A battle plan?” Vince repeated; he didn’t especially like the sound of that.

“Well, a being as powerful as you say Allen has become cannot be defeated by just a fistfight. A large-scale assault is the only way to possibly stop him. At least it will put a dent in his future plans.”

He glanced back at the sleeping woman and felt bad that she had to go through this. The rest of humanity has pretty much gone to hell; but he wished that Samantha and Mykella could be saved. “Fine. I can’t really hang around waiting for this son of a bitch to come tearing down my street killing everyone just to get to Mykella.”

“Call me when you get in.”

Vince hung up the phone and sat down at the foot of the bed watching her sleep wondering what she was dreaming about. He lay down next to her, remembering that her doctor said it could take several hours for her to regain consciousness, and closed his eyes.

“How bad is she?” Mykella asked.

Vince sat up and saw Mykella sitting in the chair next to the window and table (the one with the telephone sitting on it). “I really don’t know. Her doctor wasn’t very hopeful. But he did say that he was no brain specialist.”

She nodded and looked out the window with thoughts of the future. She was trying hard not to cry at the thought of having a brain damaged mother to live with. And then she had to push these thoughts away knowing that they were selfish thoughts. Besides, she really didn’t know how long she would have to live with her before the war drafted her.

“Mykella, why am I here? In Jerusalem?” he had been dying to ask her this. “What is it you want me to see?”

She closed her eyes and nodded her head just barely. There came a strong emotion entering her soul. “I suppose it is time.”

“Time? For what?”

“I wanted you to come here so I could show you what I saw. You may not see everything that I did, but I think you’ll get the idea.” Mykella stood and gestured to Vince to do the same. “Follow me.”

He watched as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air – he didn’t think she could leave the realm of his dream. Or, is this what he is dreaming? Curiosity grabbed him and he walked out behind her and saw that she was walking through a street lined on either side by high walls.

And then he began seeing people appear out of nowhere. They were screaming and damning someone he could not see. He saw that Mykella had disappeared into the crowd of mean-looking faces, all darker skin than his, as if they had been tan from working in the hot sun all day, and their clothes were varied to show different distinctions in classes. But they came together today – why had the sun suddenly appeared in the sky too? – to mock and throw stones at someone he still could not see.

He looked to his right and saw another street and saw two women and a man in the middle. One woman had fallen to the ground and had been weeping violently. He turned back to the mob and craned his neck but could not see who it was he was following. There was a giddy feeling creeping in his stomach.

Finally they had stopped and all he could see through the crowd was a large mound. These crazy bastards, he thought. There was nothing out there to look at.

Moments later he found himself standing alone and still saw nothing and was wondering what Mykella was getting at.

“Do you need to see it? Is that what must be done?”

Vince turned and saw Mykella standing behind him. He had not noticed it earlier, but a large wind had erupted out from the north and he had to squint his eyes. “See what?” He looked around him and was confused.

She walked up to the summit of the mound and looked down at Vince, her hair and skirt flailing in the wind. “Come, Vincent. Behold my Savior.”

He was reluctant. He was frightened. He did not deserve this honor. No, this was for someone else – not for Vincent Hopman.

“Come, Vincent,” she repeated, trying to get the sound of her voice over the roar of the wind.

His legs were no longer his, he felt, and he found himself walking up the mound with nothing going on in his head – he left it completely empty. When he approached her, Mykella looked down and he followed her eyes.

First he noticed they were standing in blood and then he noticed the large cross laying in front of them, void of any living tissue (save for the scraps of flesh around the holes on the cross beam where the hands had been). The wood of the cross had been stained red. He followed the cross up to the top where he saw the board of conviction. He couldn’t read what was inscribed but he knew what it said.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Everything was going berserk inside his head at this moment. Images of his past embracing his eyes; the feeling of an empty upbringing made him weep; Images of the only father he had known lying dead in the hospital bed and the feeling of hatred toward Allen; The love he felt when he looked at Mykella; The ultimate sacrifice.

Vince fell to the ground onto his knees and cautiously reached out and grazed his fingers across the cross. That was not enough; he put his palm flat down on the shelf that held the feet of Jesus of Nazareth. Breathing heavily, he brought his hand to his face and smeared what blood he could across his face with tears in his eyes.

“Why?” he screamed as loud as he could while looking up at the clouds. There were a million why’s that he wondered, but one was sufficient enough. “Why, damnit?” He lowered his head again and sobbed as he let the tips of his fingers graze the cross.

He felt a warm and strong hand fall onto his shoulder and then turned his head with eyes that screamed guilt. There was no one there, even Mykella had vacated the area, leaving him alone, and he felt everything he ever knew crawl back up his throat. He turned back around to face the cross and let everything go. The emotion he had the most trouble with was Allen. He knew he must let the hatred go or else there would be no hope to stop him in the end.

Vince closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held it for a while and then exhaled, letting everything go. He felt the strong hand move from his shoulder to wrap an arm around his shoulder and then he began weeping again – this time he felt an enormous love that he had never felt before.

“Go back and there you will find what you seek.”

Vince dared not turn around when he spoke. “My Lord, I seek nothing. I only want to take Samantha home.” He felt like an idiot saying this (does he really need to speak? Does the Lord not know what we feel?)

“You will conquer the snake, but you must first let it follow. My Father does not want the snake to eat His garden, but if it is His way, then it will be done.”

A new feeling of contempt arose in Vince. “I will not allow that to happen!” He stood and turned around only to find that he stood alone. “No. If I let him into Eden, millions will die. I cannot let that burden on me. No.”

He walked down the mound and found his way to the city and once inside he found the door of his hotel room still open with the inviting light coming out into the darkness. He went back to his room, closed the door behind him, and fell down onto his bed and wept into his arm when he rolled onto his side.

He felt a presence watching over him. No; he felt two watching him. He knew them both as the one he was to protect and one who was to protect him.

He closed his eyes and let a new unconsciousness fall over him. He was already asleep but this was a different kind of sleep. It was almost like a sense of hypnosis. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore. The only thing that kept him alive was his vow to keep Mykella alive as long as he could.

* * *

Allen smiled to himself as he watched the two sleeping in their bed. He knew that there was nothing going on inside the woman’s head (hell, she may as well be brain dead for all the world cares) so he knew there was no enjoyment out of these two sleeping in the same bed. He was curious at how Vince was moving in his sleep. He watched as the young man mumbled words in his sleep. He saw words like Samantha and Eden. Ah, he knows where it is. This’ll make the journey a lot easier.

Allen soon became bored of watching Vince sleep and he caught himself yawning despite the fact that he was no more than spirit matter. He often found it amusing how much damage he can inflict being only spirit.

Instead of lifting himself to the top of a nearby tree, he enjoyed sitting near the tops of trees – it made him feel more relaxed with his surroundings, he merely sat down on the lounge chair that was resting beside the unused pool and leaned back and closed his eyes. He never would get used to the idea of resting; he still required down time every now and then. He knew that his body could go days without rest but then there are those days – such as these – where he knew he must rest because he wasn’t too sure when he would get another chance.

“Who are you?” he asked when he saw the ancient man enter his bedroom.

The man reached up and withdrew his hood to reveal a smiling man no more than twenty-five years of age. His face was distorted; a distortion young Allen contributed with from birth.

His eyes were lower on his head, showing an enormous amount of forehead. His nose had a slight slant to it and was a little pointed at the tip. Allen also noticed that his ears looked like they had never grown outward like everyone else’s – they were merely two holes stuck on either side of his head.

“I will become your closest friend, Allen,” said the man and walked over to the window and looked out into the raining world. He turned back around and grinned at Allen.

“I want to offer you something, young Allen,” he began and Allen furrowed his eyebrows.

“How do you know my name?”

The man seemed to like this question. He must have heard it a million times in the past and it never gets old.

“I am Orion, Master Dreamkiller,” he said and bowed his head.

Allen had that worried look that all nine year old boys get when they know they might get caught by their parents doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

Orion moved closer to Allen and reached out his empty hands to the youth. “I want to offer you something,” he repeated. “Something you really shouldn’t pass up on.”

There was something in the way that Orion was talking that made Allen sigh, feeling everything bad he had done come crashing down on him. Tears fell from his eyes as guilt embraced him. He didn’t understand where these emotions were coming from and why he couldn’t control them.

“Let it out, my child,” whispered Orion and placed his arm around Allen’s shoulder. “This will be the last time you ever weep.”

There was that sudden feeling of dread looming over him but Allen had to ask. “What do you want to give me?”

“Power and immortality,” was all he said and Allen looked confused.

“What’s immortality?”

* * *

Vince opened his eyes early the next morning and cursed himself for sleeping so long. He wanted to catch the next flight back to the States but instead he had fallen asleep and dropped his guard. He sat up and turned to look at the woman next to him. He smiled when he saw that her eyes were open.

“Hey, you okay?”

Samantha looked up at him with a confused expression on her face. She didn’t know what to say. Hell, what did he just ask her anyway? How many words he had said to her all seemed like one long word of nonsense.

He seemed to have understood that she didn’t understand what he was saying and he just smiled and nodded his head. He stood up and looked out the window. No, I will not leave her. There was an evil future ahead and he couldn’t just leave her to it unloved. He turned and walked to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar in case she made any attempt to leave the room, and splashed cold water on his face. When he returned to the main room he found that she was sitting at the window looking out into the morning world.

He sat down opposite her and followed her gaze. He didn’t know what to say to her or even how to say it to her. He wanted her to understand that they were going back home, but he knew that she didn’t know where she was to begin with. For all she knew, she was already home. How to approach this without frightening her?

After a while he stood up and looked at her. She returned his stare and saw that he was holding out his hand. Such a polite gesture, she thought, and she stood up and took his hand. He smiled and they went to the door.

He opened it and he led her to the car and opened the door for her. She smiled at him as she sat down and snapped herself in. When he sat next to her he turned to her and asked if she understood anything that he was saying to her. He watched her eyes roaming, attempting to avoid him at all costs and this confirmed that she did not understand a single word he said.

He sighed and pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the airport, unaware that the car driven by the devil himself was following several yards back with a grin on his devilish chin.

Allen glanced in the rearview mirror and winced. “I will have my old flesh back soon enough,” he whispered to the image staring back at him.

Vince was relieved that he had no trouble getting Samantha onto the plane (he thought he would be detained because of her condition), but as if a guardian angel were watching over him, they entered the plane without any problems and when he sat down in his seat, he leaned back with a sigh – deep down he was praying that this plane would not crash; he didn’t know if he could take that again.

Samantha looked over at him and wished that she could remember who the hell he was. He looked vaguely familiar – like out of a dream – but she could not place him. She smiled, nonetheless, as she watched him. Hopefully everything will come back to her in due time.

Once he stepped onto the plane, Allen lowered the brim of his fedora and walked past Vince and Samantha without so much as a glance from either of them. He grinned and took a seat five rows behind them and he too closed his eyes.

When he felt the engines fire up and the plane vibrate Vince whispered a silent prayer again that they wouldn’t die. Then he let his thoughts return to his conversation at the cross. He had told Sister Helen that he would not be returning to that damned castle (convent, as some had referred to it) and he had even told Jesus himself that he was not at all interested in finding Eden. He would never go back.

Allen was smiling to himself, despite the fact that he was wondering what Eden and some convent had in common.