Chapter 3

Alister sat on the edge of his bed in his room, glaring down in anger as he waited for the professor to arrive. Tears stained his face but no longer blurred his vision as he had stopped sobbing an hour ago. But the fury in his mind was still hot and heavy. Alister could only think of what the sheriff had said on the phone.

"It was tough getting to his body," Sheriff Pots said. "The flood was so great we had to wait hours after it rained before the water level receded. However, there was no mistake that it was Karl Freshter floating in that field."

"No," Alister remembered saying over the phone. "Can't you bring one of us to identify him? Maybe you were mistaken."

"Usually, we'd do that," she answered. "But I decided against it as I don't want to risk civilians getting their vehicles stuck in more water. There's still standing water on some parts of the road, and it'd be a mess if we had more accidents just for relatives to check up on the dead."

Alister began sniveling in sorrow, pain erupting in his chest as snot poured from his left nostril.

"We'll let you identify his corpse in the morgue once the weather clears up later this week," Sheriff Pots said. "However, we urge all citizens in Jewel and Ultar to stay indoors for now as we don't know what the weather will be like for the next twenty-four hours. If another flood approaches, we'll call for an immediate evacuation of the area."

"Please…" Alister said. "Please…tell me he isn't dead. He…He couldn't have died."

"I'm sorry, but I've known Karl long enough to recognize him from the back of the head," the officer replied. "But his body was rather strange when we found it. His body was torn like a wolf had eaten him for food. So much of his body just looked stripped of meat…"

"Stripped of meat?" Alister asked. "Eaten?"

"We're not sure if a predator came along after he drowned, but that's the most likely case," she answered. "Other bodies found after the flood are like that too…so we suspect predators are taking advantage of all the bad weather producing victims. So…just be safe and don't let your mother go outside."

Ever since Alister could only experience hatred in his mind. The urge to hit and smash something was rising in him to a dangerous level. He had to isolate himself before he lashed out in hatred.

The closest man I had to a father…He thought. Now he's gone.

Alister's expression hardened in defiance.

And I know what took him. He thought.

He looked up at his collection of amber-stone relics. In his bedroom was a section devoted to what he could dig up of the "unknown civilization." It was one of the few remains of past culture in America that researchers had no idea of. They had no term for it other than the "unknown civilization" since it seemed to have no connection to any different culture in the world, other than some indications of it being the mysterious "Atlantis" spoken of by Plato. However, since most historians doubted the authenticity of Atlantis, they dismissed this theory.

Many of them were rectangular objects about the size of his hand that had simple images carved on them. The carvings ranged from trees growing to lightning descending from clouds to simple human body parts like arms and eyes. Alister had more than forty of these squarish shapes in total, but that was not the end of his collection.

He'd placed various stone pieces of buildings he could carry in that corner. Some were broken pieces of the pillar, while others were portions of walls of what must have been a building. Cracked and partially shattered pottery also littered the floor. All kinds of amber slate had laid in his room since Alister began collecting as a kid.

After every significant rain, Alister went into the woods to collect more relics. As a child, he gathered small pieces, like the rectangular amber-slate, because it was easy for him to carry. However, once he got older, Alister began dragging large amounts of amber-slate. He was always fascinated by the substance and the various visions they would impart to him.

His mother had always disapproved of his fascination with the amber-slate, but there was only so much she could do to control her son. Tricia would forbid him from collecting whatever amber-slate appeared in the water, but Alister constantly defied her. If he weren't outside, he would sneak out of the house to find some.

Eventually, his mother gave up and let him do whatever he wanted with them. She rarely ever threw one out as his mother did not want to have a hallucination. The mere thought of touching them seemed to scare Tricia.

The visions they gave him were more than hallucinations. In order for the amber-slate to provide you with a mental image, it usually required more than just a scrape from your skin. You had to hold it for a few seconds for it to last for a few seconds, and to gain a new one, you usually had to let go and then grasp it again.

And each piece would only give out the same two or three visions upon touching it. The visions each would give out were usually unique to that piece of the amber-slate and that alone. Scientists and various researchers had collected amber-slate before to understand what mineral would cause such visions but were unable to find any natural explanation.

However, I know that it's real. Alister thought. The events that unfold in those visions…really happened. I don't see how the creators could imbue the stone with that quality…but every time I touch it, I know they are etched into history. They're consistent and have the same characters appear in each story.

Alister thought back to the people that appeared within his mind when trying to gain visions from the stone. The king wore a plain gold crown that encircled his forehead, his attendants who served him, various amphibious monsters that could crawl from water onto land, and even something akin to a serpent. By memorizing the visions from each stone and stringing them into a narrative, he felt he could gather them into a chain of events that formed the unknown civilization's history.

There was a war between humans and some race of fish people that needed water to survive but could exist on land so long as they had a body of water nearby to refresh themselves. He thought. The king of the civilization, who might have been named Atlas, led humans into a battle that defeated the amphibious creatures. However, the fish people rose back up after having been thought to have destroyed and razed the unknown civilization with the help of…some weird serpent. The humans won that war, again, but at a high cost. The amphibious creatures wiped out the civilization.

Alister needed help remembering finer details.

The powers of land and water fought one another. He remembered. The humans expanded the ground to gain power and habitat, while the amphibious race grew the water to consummate power. But how is that possible? How could creatures control the forces of nature themselves?

Alister then turned to a jagged, flat piece of amber-slate as big as his head leaning against the interior wall of his bedroom. It depicted a creature an upright, bipedal creature with fins on its head, arms and feet holding the decapitated head of a human. Behind it were many other fish-like creatures with tentacles, fins, or serpentine features surrounded by dead, mostly headless humans. Alister glared at the sight.

That. He thought. That is what killed my grandfather. And I want dead whatever did him in.

His hands balled into fists.

No. Alister thought. I want dead the entire race of what killed him. If only I could find them…

He heard a knock on the door and the sound of it opening.

"Al!" he heard his mother shout. "The professor is here!"

The young man jumped up at her words and nearly ran to the living room. Upon opening the door to the center of the house, he found an unfamiliar person standing in the center. Alister observed the house's interior as he walked through the living room.

He wore a black trenchcoat on top of a white button-down shirt. He had black boots matching his black, khaki pants and fitting well with his long black hair. He looked like he might be in his mid-forties. In his green eyes, Alister could sense some amount of intelligence and wisdom.

It's almost like he can see right through my soul. He thought. Who is this man?

And there was something else about him that was odd.

Why are his boots not wet? Alister asked. Not only that, but the edges of his trench coat aren't either. It's not flooding anymore, but he must have stepped in puddles to get here. Am…Am I just being suspicious for no reason? And…And why do I seem to recognize him?

"Hello," he said rather sternly. "My name is Frederick Seizemore. I am the head of anthropology and historical research at the University of Massachusetts. I often come to this area to look at various relics from the unknown civilization. And while I have found quite a few…"

His gaze fell upon Alister.

"Amber-slate pieces…" he said. "It has come to my attention that Mr. Alister Freshter has gathered the largest collection of relics in the entire town."

The professor then turned back to Alister's mother

"I am dying to meet with him," the professor said.

"Thank you," Tricia said. "Would you like some tea or-?"

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"No," he said. "I never enter a private residence without first having refreshed myself. I believe it to be a professional courtesy. However, I would like to have a seat with your son."

"I believe I know you from somewhere," Tricia said. "You seem familiar."

"Yes," Alister said. "I feel the same way."

"Do either of you watch historical documentaries?" he asked.

"Occasionally," Tricia said. "I raised my son on educational television."

"A lot of them," Alister said. "Like, maybe once or twice a week."

"I'm often a consultant for them and have appeared in quite a few," Frederick Seizemore said. "I specialize in the civilizations of pre-colonial America."

"Yes," Tricia said. "I think I remember you…you were in a special about lesser-known Native American civilizations. You provided evidence that the Amazon rainforest in its current state was not natural and that the inhabitants somewhat terraformed the area to suit their lifestyle."

"And I believe you explained that not all Native Americans in the North American continent were nomadic hunters," Alister said. "In contrast to pop culture depicting them as tepee dwellers. The various diseases brought over by the colonizers decimated many native tribes that had permanent civilizations. The representation of permanent settling American tribes diminished due to the large numbers of their ethnicity that had been genocided."

"It was a theory I had that many others agreed with," Seizemore said. "So, yes, I'm a bit of a celebrity amongst the historical community."

Tricia turned to Alister as the young man nodded. Professor Seizemore sat on the couch against the living room's back wall. Alister sat in the chair to its right while his mother sat on a chair to the left of the sofa. The professor turned to Alister with an expression so stoic it almost was like a leer.

Man. Alister thought. This guy doesn't seem to have any concept of a smile, does he?

"Ms. Freshter," Frederick said. "Do you know how long your son has been collecting amber-slate?"

"I believe since he was-" Tricia said.

"Five," Alister said. "Since I was five. You don't have to ask my mother questions I can answer. I'm not a child."

"So I can assume it's been ten years that you've been collecting these relics?" he asked.

"How do you know my age?" Alister asked. "I'll admit I'm fifteen, but I don't know how you got that information."

"Well, I've done some basic research on the person I'd be interviewing," Professor Seizemore said. "I wouldn't be here unless I didn't ask around about anyone who'd been collecting amber-slate for all this time, now would I? Your age and parentage would be common knowledge to anyone who gained even a fraction of foreknowledge about their prospective partner."

"Partner?" Alister asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Partner."

He then turned to Tricia and sighed.

"Ms. Freshter," he said. "I'm afraid I will need to borrow both your son and his collection. He is a valuable commodity for preventing what will happen."

Alister turned to face him, his eyes wide at the professor.

"Commodity?" Tricia asked. "Preventing what?"

"Ma'am," he said. "There's no easy way to say this…but the rumors of fish monsters that appear after a large rainstorm here… they're not mere fairy tales. The relics of this civilization speak to it. My intellectual contemporaries like to call it the unknown civilization, but they are the last remains of Atlantis."

"Atlantis?!" Tricia asked. "That mythical city that supposedly drowned in one night? You can't be serious!"

Atlantis? Alister asked himself. So…this guy believes too? Has he seen the visions from it as I have?

"I'm afraid I am," Professor Seizemore said. "As historians, we must take disparate elements of human remains and form a timeline for their civilizations' beginning and destruction. I have done so, and this civilization has many eerie similarities to the supposedly mythical city of Atlantis."

"No," Tricia said as she shook her head. "That…That can't be. I-I-can’t believe…”

"Are you going to continue to doubt to maintain your narrow-minded worldview?" the professor asked. "Or will you listen to a professor with decades of experience in his field and who has done thorough research on this phenomenon?"

Atlantis…Alister thought. That…That makes too much sense…

"I think ivy league tower professors like you are too engrossed in your work to see plain reality," she answered. "The next thing you'll discuss is little green men on the moon."

"Well, before you start discounting everything I'm about to say," Professor Seizemore said. "I would like for you to consider the relationship between the fish men depicted in the engravings of these relics and those seen after a large rainstorm. They are similar in appearance in the stone carvings and behavior. Their hostility to humans is a feature in both the relics as well as the incidents people have reported encountering them."

"But the hallucinogenic properties of the amber-slate account for that," Tricia said. "Whatever mineral is in that substance causes people to see weirdo sights, like getting high off mushrooms or marijuana. The property causes them to have strange dreams based on what they just saw, namely the carvings. A perfectly logical explanation."

"Then why do the relics only appear during the flood?" Professor Seizemore asked. "There is no trace of them before a large rainstorm comes in and causes them to materialize suddenly. How can you explain that?"

"I admit that is very strange," Tricia said. "But what are you implying? What do you think their origin lies in?"

"I believe they are hidden in a way humans cannot comprehend," the professor said. "They do not exist until the rain starts. And then they suddenly do. There is no scientific explanation for it."

The woman's gaze narrowed.

"So you believe there is a supernatural explanation for it?" Tricia said.

"Yes," the professor answered. "That is the only answer I can find. And your son has quite the collection of Atlantean relics. If I am to find whatever is the source of this town's mystery and danger, I will need Alister's help since he has collected so many."

Her glare harshened.

"I consider it a very odd and dangerous thing for a professor whose work is founded in rationality and evidence to believe in magic and things that go bump in the night," she lectured. "Teaching impressionable young minds that monsters, rain magic, and hallucinogenic visions from the past are factual. You are a menace to your profession, and I will not allow you to coax my son into this…this cult-like idea."

"Says someone who has not studied the Atlantean relics that much," Professor Seizemore said. "For example, do you know us Massachusetts academics don't even call them amber-slate?"

"Excuse me?" Tricia asked.

"Yes," he said. "My fellow researchers of the civilization have found through decoding their language they did not call the material amber-slate. That was a term given to them by the Anglo settlers, who had no idea what material it was. The people of this civilization called the substance "luster stone"."

"Luster stone?" Tricia asked. "I've never heard of such a thing. I find that more evidence you are a mere charlatan."

"If you believe me to be a con man," the professor said. "You can call Massachusetts University and ask around town. You'll find I'm fully verified as one of their most respected professors and come here every so often to look at the relics. I can give you the University's number."

"No," Tricia said. "I don't need to. I don't trust you any more than I like your terrible fashion sense."

"What?" Professor Seizemore asked with a slight laugh. "You don't like black? I think it makes me look slim."

"It makes you look stupid," she said. "Now, my son doesn't want anything to do with you. So please…leave."

"Did I say that?" Alister asked.

His mother turned to glare at him.

"What?" she asked.

"You may not believe the validity of his statements," he answered. "But I do."

Fear broke out in his mother's expression, her eyes wide with panic.

"Wh-What?" she asked.

"I'm serious," Alister said. "These relics are more mysterious and strange than practically anything else. He's a verified researcher and professor…what more do you want?"

"So you believe all this nonsense about fish people or whatever?" Tricia asked. "You want to go down the rabbit hole of conspiracies involving reptile elites and Area 51 scandals?"

She turned back to the professor.

"I don't know why you want to involve my son in this," Tricia said. "But I won't allow you to take him on whatever endeavor you plan."

"I know what I see within these relics," Alister said. "The amber-slate, luster stone, or whatever it's called… there's no doubt something bigger is at play here. These carvings have always drawn me in…I don't know why but…they feel familiar to me. And now that these amphibian things have killed grandpa, I want to destroy them all."

"And where will you find them?!" she shouted.

Tricia stood up from her seat, anger emblazoned on her face.

"You think you can just track down these things and exterminate them like some roach infestation?!" she shouted. "If that were possible, it would have been done long ago!"

"Not since everyone's too afraid to face them," Alister said.

He stood up, glaring back at his mother.

"I want to kill all these sea monsters that have popped up," he said. "No one eats my grandfather and gets away with it. I want to skin these things like the fish they are with my bare hands."

"You're crazy!" Tricia said. "You…You don't know if it was a mountain lion that ate him or a wild dog! No idea at all!"

"Yeah, I do," Alister said.

He turned to the professor and nodded at him.

"I'm going with him, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," he said.

"I will call the police if you leave," Tricia said. "And that is final."

"You can do that after I find out what killed my grandfather for certain!" Alister shouted. "I'll have my revenge or die trying!"

"I'm going to phone the police," Tricia said as she shook her head. "What a headache."

"No!" Alister shouted. "No!"

The young man was about to approach his mother angrily, his hands balling into fists. However, the professor gestured to Alister to stop. He turned to find Professor Seizemore opening his trenchcoat and reaching into it.

A weapon! He thought in fright.

"No!" Alister shouted. "No, don't-!"

However, once he revealed the interior of his coat, Alister was aghast at the sight. The black trench coat had dozens of pockets lining the inside. And within each one was a rectangular piece of amber-slate.

Everyone was the same size as the hand-sized, four-sided slab of yellowish stone with a carving. Alister was amazed at the sight, almost shaking in fright. Alister had never seen anyone besides himself that had collected so many. And while they were very light compared to most stone objects, he'd never thought about carrying so many at a time on his person.

Just as Tricia recoiled at the sight, the professor grabbed a stone slab from a pocket within the coat and held it forward. Alister saw the carving on the rock as a woman lying down on a bed with her arms folded over her. He then turned back to his mother to find her shocked expression relaxing.

Tricia's eyes began to close as she began slouching slowly. Tricia looked dazed with sleepiness as her entire body went limp. She stumbled over herself, her feet tripping before she eventually fell face forward with her eyes closed. Alister raced toward her mother, but the professor was faster.

He closed the distance between them in a second before holding the woman in his arms. Professor Seizemore then gently placed her back in her chair, the woman looking peacefully asleep. After that, the man in black turned into a shocked and frightened Alister.

"What was-?" he said.

"It was the power of Feminine Slumber," he said. "It is the women's counterpart to the luster charm of Masculine Dreams, something that does the same for men."

"These-" Alister said. "These are-"

"These are engravings imbued with a certain power," the professor said. "When held out, they can cast a specific spell or allow the holder to inherit an ability. But it's entirely based on the image carved into the luster stone."

"They all have this power?" Alister asked.

"Only the rectangular ones small enough to hold," the professor said. "Now, go gather up the best ones from your collection."

"Uh-" Alister said. "Uh…I-I-I don't know-"

"You want to find what killed your grandfather and destroy them?" Professor Seizemore asked.

Alister tried to turn his shocked, frightened expression into determination and anger.

"You know where to find them?" Alister asked.

"The whole lot," the professor said. "But you'll have to trust."

"Yeah," he said. "But…But why have you come here? I mean, aren't you just an archeologist? What…What do you care for the lives of us countryfolk?"

"Because these creatures…" the professor said. "They are no mere threat to you. But to the world."