Chapter 16
The music within her mind grew steadily, the rhythm beginning to match her steps, or maybe she’d matched her steps to the rhythm, it was hard to tell. No Squawk, no Adam and no James walked beside her. The loneliness should’ve been familiar, she figured she’d be used to it, but it stung, now more than ever. The cold air bit at her cheeks and her bare arms, covered in goosebumps and shivering constantly, wrapped tightly around her chest. The music, that soft jazz beat crept slowly from one end of her mind to the other, lingering occasionally on thoughts she wished to ignore, the music seemed to want her to dwell on these thoughts, the ones best left forgotten. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally came face to face with a mansion in the snow.
This must be the place, the music in her head had crescendoed and any move she made in any direction but the entrance caused a sharp dip in the volume. First impressions, the mansion wished not to be found, that seemed fairly obvious. A number of mountains surrounded the estate, mountains sagging like elderly patients faltering on the rim of the abyss. As Jennifer approached them she thought she’d heard wailing, but nothing could be alive out here, she comforted herself with that thought, desperately ignoring the presence of the mountains themselves. Second impression of the mansion fell slightly more on the whimsical side, great manor windows with old stone brick structure, dying trees growing in and out of the gardens, a great ebony gate with deadly and hauntingly beautiful designs circling the property, and a large dark wood door with a single iron knocker, iron forged to resemble a human hand opened to hold take on another. Something about the mansion filled Jennifer with a kind of surreal excitement, the kind of feeling you might see in a fish admiring a glowing worm deep in the ocean depths. Like the fish, Jennifer refused to pass up on the worm.
The ebony gate, enslaved to guard the mansion by the oppressive law of a great grey lock forged from solid steel, refused to budge for Jennifer. Not one to be detained, Jennifer hoisted herself over the gate and into the front gardens, or at least, what remained of the gardens. A gorgeous stone path leading through morbid remnants of rose bushes brought Jennifer past gothic fountains, statues so broken Destiny himself would be hard pressed to tell you what they once were, until she arrived before the great dark wood door. Upon closer inspection Jennifer could see the wood’s dark coloring wasn’t a natural phenomenon, whatever fire took place within those walls must have truly done a number on the insides, Jennifer almost talked herself into staying outside. But something about the way the doors remained shut, like a dog’s mouth patiently awaiting the go ahead, continued to pique Jennifer’s curiosity.
She held the iron hand of the knocker and crashed it into the door twice, and, as she lifted her hand for a third, the door swung open, a cold wind escaping from behind the doors, a wind somehow colder than the freezing winds outside. After the initial wave of cold, the door exhaled a welcoming warm air, comfortable air enticing sleep, Jennifer accepted the invitation and entered, the doors slamming shut behind her. For a mansion that obviously hosted an unintended fire, Jennifer found the decor rather remarkably undercooked. Great bookshelves lined the walls, musty books with titles written in symbols Jennifer felt fairly confident she’d never be able to read filled those shelves and an old rickety ladder lay propped against it. Between the shelves elegant red silked couches and chairs formed a makeshift parlor surrounding a lit fireplace, small mahogany tables interspersed between hoisting coasters devoid of cups. Two circular staircases ascended upwards to a second story containing an even greater array of novels, manuals, plays, and maps, whoever lived here must like to read, Jennifer remarked as she plopped herself down on one of the couches, the red silk appearing far more comfortable than it actually was.
You might imagine that Jennifer’s level of relaxation borders on the moronic, but Jennifer figured she’d followed the music this far, clearly this was the intended destination, so whatever brought her here would reveal itself in time, no sense in rushing things. Bored, Jennifer began to scan her eyes across the books, the symbols on the spines giving her an odd sort of headache. Her head throbbed and so she quickly wrenched her eyes free from the shelf, but in that instant where her eyes shifted across the books at that speed, she saw the image of a king. Shaking her head and wondering how much of that was exhaustion, she slowly returned her eyes to the shelf and, quickly this time, scanned the shelf back and forth.
What once appeared as nonsensical symbols now manifested in characters, settings, themes, a narrative that Jennifer followed with a combination of awe and terror. She saw a young man, belittled, beaten, broken… A crowd of people stood away, huddled around a dying flame, flickering softly against the chilled winds, the young man had no flame, he walked alone. From town to town the young man walked, finding no home, no friend, no comfort, everything he could grab hold of he gripped until it rotted, leaving him more alone than before. Jennifer witnessed every change the young man made, every move to be loved, cared for, appreciated, but nothing took and, as the young man sat alone, huddled in a ditch off the side of the road, watching people walk by without a single glance made his way, he came to a biting conclusion, Jennifer mouthed it with him, ‘no one comes.’ The young man abandoned this world of his, took off toward the mountains, something in his head lead him toward the east. The music, once in Jennifer’s head, now played around the young man, accompanying his journey through familiar mountain paths until he arrived at the very mansion Jennifer sat in. She watched him enter the same room she sat in, observe the books on the shelves, sit on the sofa and warm himself by the fire, until he noticed something in the corner. Watching this unfold, Jennifer turned in the direction the young man had looked, and saw nothing but a podium, empty, charred. She watched the young man closely, seeing him approach the podium, only his appeared new, beautiful, unmarred by flames. From the podium the young man lifted a book, a tattered journal that appeared far older than the other books on the shelf. Jennifer ran to her podium, but there was no such book, so she turned to watch the young man read his. His eyes lit up, clarity shone across his face and he returned to the couch and read for hours, understanding lighting his features with every turn of the page. Jennifer wanted a book like that.
The young man slammed the book closed and placed it back onto the podium and left the mansion, Jennifer following his journey on the bookcase. He returned to the realm of man, his demeanor entirely changed, insecurity replaced with confidence, confusion replaced with clarity, fear replaced with purpose. The young man entered the throne rooms of kings, the offices of governments, the tents of warlords and dripped honey from his tongue, forming alliances between enemies, pointing in the direction of conquests once thought impossible, and leading the human race in a golden age of development, time and time again. It was at this point that Jennifer realized she hadn’t merely been watching one man, but hundreds, each one separated from the others by time, but connected by the same exact story. Each of the young men grew old, returning to the mansion, to the book. They took the book into their arms and began to write, write of their stories, their achievements and their plans for the next arrival. They then ascended to the top of the mansion, up a tower covered in snow, until they reached a throne room at the top. Four thrones, marked with images of decay, famine, sickness, and war, all empty save for a small silver knife resting on the throne of war. Each man, aged and their tasks completed, drove the knife through their stomachs, vomiting blood over the throne of war. Bleeding like gutted pigs they hobbled down the stairs and into the foyer, pulling a book from one of the shelves, revealing a secret passageway, a staircase leading deep into the depths of Adam. There, in that blackness they lay next to hundreds of corpses, content smiles on their faces as they breathe their last. When the last bit of life fades the books went dark, Jennifer, wondering if the story had ended, began to stand, when a light shone through the shelves, and thus the story began again.
Jennifer had seen that knife before, she reached into her bag and felt the replica, but she knew where she might find the real one. Slowly, anxiously, she ascended the stairs, painfully aware why each step was stained red, until she reached the familiar door, the door every last one of those men had entered at the end of their lives, and she pushed it open. There, standing between the four thrones was a man; a man with curly black hair, and deep grey eyes.
“J-James…”?
“Hello Jennifer, what took you so long”?
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Clad in a dark suit, perfectly shined ebony shoes and slicked back dark hair, the man offered Jennifer a slight smirk before collapsing onto the blood stained throne of war with a great sigh.
“Ugh, you would not believe how much of a hassle it’s been getting you here!” Jennifer winced, his voice sounded so familiar, but the tone was all wrong. “I mean you sure took your sweet time! I put the music in your head, gave you…mostly clear passage,” he shrugged, “and yet I’ve been sitting here for hours!” He stood suddenly and leaned forward to look Jennifer in the eye, his smile grew larger, grew wolfish, “but I could never stay mad at you could I”? He held that position for an uncomfortable minute, it almost seemed as if he wanted an answer. Jennifer opened her mouth to answer, but he’d already spun back around and hopped onto the throne of famine. “You must have SO many questions,” he allowed himself to fall into the throne, putting his head in his hand and rubbing his temples, “it’s going to take FOREVER to answer them all… hmmm….” Jennifer decided to interject, there was only one question on her mind,
“Why did you lie to me”? She was surprised how smoothly the words came out, somehow the rage, sadness, and despair all balanced out to an apathetic montone. A single eyebrow shot upwards, Jennifer twitched,
“Lie to you? Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer! I’ve never lied to you! Hell, this is only the second time I’ve met you!” He hopped off the throne and sat himself down on the arm rest of the plague throne adjacent to Jennifer.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Ho-how is that… that’s a lie! We traveled all this way together and you…” Realization set in, “...and you’re not him.”
“Bingo.” He patted her on the head and walked calmly to the lone window behind his throne. “I do look a lot like him don’t I? That, “James.”” He turned to face her, his eyes looked pained, conflicted, enraged, yet his smile never waivered. “But hey, that’s what happens when you’re part of a family, am I right!” Jennifer had no clue if he was right.
“You’re not making any sense...” She felt she was bouncing around a question that would clarify all this, but she couldn’t focus enough to think of it.
“Well duh,” he laughed, “You’re a stupid human, of course none of this makes any sense to you!” The pieces seemed to finally connect.
“So you’re… you’re…” She didn’t want to say it.
“D-E-A-T-H. The one and only-” He looked awkwardly at the other three empty thrones, “and believe me that was a task!” Something in Jennifer snapped, all her pent up rage exploded as she leapt toward the man, but she merely collided with an empty throne. “Ouch,” he chuckled, “That looked like it hurt.” She got up to charge him again, but he snapped his fingers and she found herself entirely unable to move. With a flick of his wrist she collided with the back of the throne, her body shifting into a polite sitting posture that made her look quite excited to listen. “That’s so much better! Now I have some business with ya, so if ya have anymore questions best to ask them now, because once I get started I ain’t stopping for nothing.” Jennifer struggled with the invisible restraints, but they refused to budge, she screamed obscenities at a fairly unimpressed Death who merely checked his barren wrist every so often, waiting for her to finally calm down.
When she’d exhausted herself, realizing she may be a bit outmatched here, she decided she might as well get some answers.
“That story I saw, on the bookshelves,” Death seemed pleasantly surprised at her change of tone, and met her eyes with a smile, “those men were you right, your reincarnations”? The smile twitched slightly.
“I’m surprised you know about all that, but ya are right, all those fine boyos were just reincarnations of the masterpiece ya see before ya.”
“What I want to know is how you managed to ruin all of their lives like that, make people hate them so they’d run away to this place.” Death burst into laughter, a bitter laughter Jennifer was all too familiar with. He finally calmed down, wiped a tear from his eye and then leapt up from his chair and drove his face inches away from Jennifer’s, a malicious grin ripped across his face,
“You should know better than anyone, I didn’t have to do a damn thing.” He paused to let the words sink in before slowly returning to his seat and leaning back lazily as he searched for a comfortable position. “Yep, ya humans are pretty well capable of ruining people’s lives without my help, hell I’m the only one nice enough to take you guys out of the equation from time to time. But I don’t blame y’all, ya humans are too stupid to be as cruel as you are without help. That’s why I called you here to-” Jennifer, the burning question finally making its way to the surface, interrupted him mid thought and burst out,
“Who started the fire”? The question caught Death off guard and his relaxed demeanor wavered for a moment as Jennifer continued, her thoughts finally connecting, “that’s why the book I saw isn’t there anymore? It burned didn’t it”? With a tense sigh, Death collected himself and returned to his old confidence, though a slightly more strained variety.
“That’s a pretty astute observation there Jennifer, I can see why he likes ya.” He left the, “he” vague, clearly waiting to open that up in a bigger way, “but you’re right, the fire and the missing book are linked. Not all of my incarnations agreed with the mission, and there was one, right near the end, who decided to do something about it.” His tone confused her,
“You don’t seem too torn up about it…” He smiled, a more genuine grin than his earlier offers,
“He set my plan back a fair amount, tried to burn the mansion to the ground, destroyed the book with the plan in it…” He recounted all this with whimsy in his voice, “Kid didn’t give a damn about the plan, about any of it. Kid had balls.” He smirked out the window, staring off at some truth hidden in the snow, but, before he could find it, he snapped back into the present. “But enough about him! Let’s talk about you and that friend of yours.” Jennifer’s heart skipped a beat, this is why she was here, she reminded herself, for better or worse.
“What about him? You brought me all the way out here, made yourself look just like him, why”? Death let out a snarky chuckle,
“Oh man, you sure do know how to press the right buttons, I didn’t choose to look like him, that’s just a sad birth defect, something I’ve considered changing on multiple occasions.” He began pacing around the room, clearly not used to people chatting with him so casually and not sure if he should be enjoying it. He stopped, turned slowly to Jennifer and grinned from ear to ear, like an eel eyeing a lone fish. “But I’ve wasted enough of your time, I think it’s time I tell you why you’re here.” Jennifer’s knuckles went white as she dug her fingers into the stone throne. “Your friend James goes by another name ya know, one he went by loooooooooong before he met you, and would ya like to know what that name is”? He leaned in and whispered the word in her ear, “DESTINY.” Her eyes snapped open, her mouth went dry and she watched Death casually return to his throne, lean back with his hands propping up his chin, “Thoughts”? She could think of a few.
“Why should I believe you? Why should I believe any of this?!” She demanded, struggling against the invisible restraints. Death chuckled slightly, a sad sound.
“I wish I could tell ya this is all a lie, but it ain’t.” He rubbed his chin with his right hand and then leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, “You think I’m the bad guy here, but ya couldn’t be more wrong. I assume by now you’ve heard all about the convergence, when Destiny, ‘lost’ all of his control”? Jennifer nodded suspiciously. “Well he didn’t take to that so well, began finding more and more subtle ways of controlling us Forms, insuring that we… stay in line.”
“What sorts of ways”? Jennifer ventured, still skeptical.
“The Book.”
“The Book”? Jennifer had heard all sorts of things about the Book, how everything that exists comes from the Book, that Destiny’s the only one who can read from the Book, how everything eventually returns to the Book, but how any of that worked was beyond her.
“Yep, see me, you, the snow, the oceans, the planet, we’re all just words in that Book under the illusion of life.” He spat the word, ‘life.’ “And every word out of the Book’s gotta be read to exist, read exactly as it’s written. So, when ole Destiny reads a word like, I don’t know, ‘DEATH,’ he’s bringing into existence a being with Death in mind, and that’s how he likes it. So, someone like that, whether he likes it or not, ain’t gonna be nothing but a Death machine for his whole life. This Deathly lad’s gonna go on killing forever, doing his job better and better cus he can’t help it, he’s hardwired that way, but what if he didn’t have to be”? Jennifer’s eyes lit up. “See Destiny has this… influence. He can’t directly control anyone anymore, but he can keep them acting within their nature, subtle, but potent. Issue is he didn’t count on how potent this influence could be and that Deathly lad of his got hit a bit too hard, started doing his job… too well. Now uncle Destiny can’t have that, gotta keep order and what not, so what does he do? He gets a human, tricks her into taking him to his brother so he can… set things straight. Brother’s dying, Deathly boy put a knife through his spine, so what’s he gonna do? Well, that human girl he’s hanging out with has zero holes in her spine, seems pretty healthy overall, aged perfectly in a sterile little bubble.” The words landed on Jennifer like drops of boiling water on exposed skin, each drop painful in its own right, but only a taste of the pot they came from. “He walks with her, obsesses over her safety, gains her trust, right up until the moment he’s ready for her to converge.” Jennifer shook her head desperately, not even certain enough to speak. “Oh come on Jennifer! Open your eyes, what do you think Destiny finds more valuable, you or the universe”? Death hopped to his feet and made his way to her side, setting a soft hand on her shoulder, “And, ya know what’s worse, he’s the one who screwed it up in the first place.” He let his hand linger for a moment, let Jennifer process what she’d heard.
The hand lifted from her shoulder and Death squatted down in front of her, a silver knife in his hand, the real knife. “But it doesn’t have to be this way Jennifer. If Destiny dies then no one else has to. The second he’s gone we’ll all regain our freedom, our true freedom. I’ll no longer have to kill, for the first time in my life I’ll be free to pursue whatever life I desire and so will you. All of those people back home, your father, Kenny, those classmates of yours, all free. And you have my word, once he’s dead I’ll be able to put everything right, without this urge to kill overwhelming me I can bring back everyone I’ve killed, make this world beautiful again.” Jennifer began to speak, but the words simply wouldn’t come out. This was all too much, none of this made any sense, none of this felt right and yet… He placed the knife in her hand, curled her fingers around the handle and smiled, a real smile, “I won’t make ya do anything, this is your decision. Whatever ya decide, I’ll know.” Death stood straight, smiled down at her, winked and vanished, leaving Jennifer all alone in the bloodsoaked room, the knife in her hand, the replica in her bag, and tears streaming down her cheeks, she hadn’t asked for any of this.
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Somewhere, far, far away from Death’s mansion, a young man, clad in a scarf and coat, trudged moodily up a quite steep and stubborn mountain.
“Where is she.” The voice was not friendly and James recognized it instantly. He turned round to see the Nurse from Jennifer’s city, arms crossed and brow furrowed, standing impatiently behind him.
“Hi to you too.” James grumbled, she had no right to speak to him so casually, she’d grown too relaxed around him since the incident. She ignored his remark and continued on with her interrogation,
“I raised her, fed her, got her out here and all you had to do was follow her back to Time. You quite literally had ONE JOB!” James gritted his teeth, she’d really grown far too comfortable with him.
“First off, if you hadn’t noticed, Time moved the city. Second off, don’t forget I’m still your Father, I deserve more respect than this.” The Nurse laughed maliciously,
“Respect?! After you let this happen?!” She flourished her hand toward the bleak, snow covered wasteland, “Sorry, DAD, but I don’t have a whole lot of respect for you at the moment. My children are suffering, you allowed the literal worst possible evil take over the world and, even after I come up with a FULL PROOF SOLUTION, you still manage to screw it all up. So, I ask again, WHERE IS SHE”? James’s eyes dropped, the words came out soft and strained,
“She didn’t want to come…” The Nurse’s eyes widened, she leaned back her head and clapped her hands, a bitter smile on her face,
“She didn’t WANT to come? THAT IS RICH! Since when have you EVER cared what anyone else wants”? James didn’t have an answer, the feeling had surprised him just as much as it did her.
“I… I’m not sure we should use her.” Fire raged in the Nurse’s eyes, she cycled back and forth between wanting to storm off or strangle him.She began to pace angrily before stopping, her hand on her hip and a finger pointed toward him, exasperated,.
“You agreed to this, remember, WE decided this was the only way, remember. We don’t use her EVERYONE DIES, REMEMBER?!”
“They won’t.” The statement held authority, enough to stop the Nurse in her tracks.
“Oh? And why’s that? You got another plan.”
“I do. Time will converge with me.”