Chapter Thirty-Three

The guilt was lying heavy as Rick boarded his plane and he took a seat next to the window. He left all of his luggage at the check in gate and didn’t bother to bring anything for carry on.

He sighed and turned his head to look out the window at the bright runway. Rick closed his eyes and wished to God that he didn’t need the full two weeks, he wasn’t sure if he could stay away that long.

Rick had been friends with the young Emily Karlson early in their high school days. She, like Rick, had been in all of the advanced classes so it was easier to talk to her than any other girl in school. He didn’t get nervous; talking to her felt natural. They attended every school function together, including their senior prom.

Two years after their prom, they were engaged, and four months later Emily lost her maiden name for that of Hopman.

He, now, longed to be in their warm bed feeling her soft flesh against his. But, instead, all he could do was sigh again and open his eyes to the bright runway. But it wasn’t the runway he was now looking at.

He sat up with a start when he discovered that they were in flight and rain had enveloped the entire plane. None of this bothered Rick too much – he could just have lost a few minutes of his time longing to be with his wife. When he saw the flash of lightning, he saw something out on the edge of the wing.

Rick stared at the thing which wore a flowing and wet cloak. Just like William Shatner’s foe, this gremlin, too, was tearing at the innards of the wing. Rick was screaming and throwing curses through the window.

Orion turned and laughed at Rick and lifted up his tool for ripping apart the wing. Rick gawked when he saw that Orion was holding his own hand and using it on the wing.

“You son of a bitch!” Rick screamed and pounded his hands on the window. He suddenly stopped when he noticed that he was hitting the window with a bloody stump where his hand used to be. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves– he would not let Orion win this game.

Then again, if he didn’t do something, then what’s to stop Orion for going after Emily? He couldn’t take that risk. With his bloody stump, Rick slammed against the window once again and this time it smashed. As expected, this caused him to be sucked completely out of the plane and Rick flew straight at Orion.

Surprised by this turn of events, and seeing Richard’s rage return so quickly, Orion sneered at the young man who was screaming a war cry toward him. “It’s not that easy, Richard!” he screamed above the howling wind. He stood up and extended his arms, ready to embrace Rick’s attack, but just when he could almost taste the fabric of his cloak, Rick jerked awake.

He did not scream when he awoke, but he did manage to startle the older man sitting to his right side. Looking embarrassed, Rick shook his head and faced the stranger with an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry about startling you like that. Just had a strange dream,” he explained and the gray-haired man nodded his head.

“I very much understand nightmares, Sir. They’re not to be taken lightly,” the man replied, which made Rick sit up and turn his entire body in the man’s direction.

“What makes you an expert in the field of nightmares?”

This put a large smile on the man’s lips and he looked Rick directly in the eye. “Lungland Psychiatric Hospital,” was all he needed to say and this put chills on Rick’s neck. “How’s your hand doing?” he glanced down at Rick’s metallic hand.

“Who…who are you?” Rick found it difficult to ask the simple question. This trip was odd enough – going in search of a timeless hell beast, but to meet someone who was actually there when it all happened took the cake.

The man bowed his head. “My name is Frederick Whitaker. I worked at the hospital during the time when you were fighting Orion.”

A strange feeling crept into Rick’s stomach and he didn’t like it. He formed sudden dark images within his mind. He saw a young girl whom he remembered as Laura. Rick reddened with embarrassment at the thought of Laura; he’s a married man now. We were only kids then, he mused.

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Then he recalled how she had been impaled by Orion’s hands.

The image of his final confrontation with Orion clouded his mind now. To this day, he still doesn’t understand why Orion had chosen to use the likeness of himself during the confrontation.

An instant hatred toward this stranger boiled from within. “You mean to tell me, Sir, that you knew everything that was going on and you didn’t lift a finger to help? What the hell kind of doctor are you?”

Frederick nodded. “Yes. But there were things happening even in my own little world. I wished I could have helped, but I was too frightened,” he explained and formed a regrettable expression on his aged face.

The memories all came flooding back into his head. He saw the brutal slayings of his friends, Vincent; Steve; Britany; and Laura. In a matter of seconds, he relived the battle with Allen in the caves – the battle which cost him his hand. The anger came with these images. Rick shook his head in disgust. “Go back to whatever rock you came from and crawl beneath it and never show me your face again. I have no time for people who run the other way with their tails between their legs,” he said and made Frederick nod once again.

“I will leave you at once. But, as there are no other vacancies, I must sit here until we land,” he said, almost with a mischievous smirk on his lips and Rick sighed.

It was about an hour later before Frederick broke the silence. “She’s going to Ireland,” he announced and Rick turned to face him with an annoyed look on his face.

“What are you talking about now?” he asked as he took another sip of his soda. He didn’t go all this way to play games. He was too old for that and he wanted answers. If he had to die for them, so be it. “Who’s going to Ireland?”

It’s time, Frederick thought behind an inner smile. “Tracy Kingston,” was all he had to say and this brought forth a confused expression on Rick’s face.

Tracy, Rick recalled. The innocent victim of Orion. The young girl who brought Alexius back from the dark world of Dreamkillers. She would have been Orion’s first victim had it not been for the fact that she had procession of a book which was once owned by Orion himself. He wanted it back. Does she still have it after all these years? “Tracy Kingston?” he repeated and Frederick put his hand up on Rick’s shoulder.

“You remember, good,” he began and pushed on further. “If she’s going to Ireland, and you’re going to England, there must be strange forces at work.” He turned his head and looked up at the cockpit door and thought the whole scenario in his head. Finally, he turned to Rick. “What do you make of it, Richard?”

Shaking his head, “Not much. So she’s going to Ireland – so what? What do you make of it?”

“Well, now, let’s see,” Frederick said behind sarcasm. “You’re beginning to have dreams of Orion after eleven years. Why so long? And, if you’re having them, isn’t it safe to assume that Tracy’s having them as well?”

Rick shook his head again. “No. If she’s having them, she would’ve called me,”

“Are you so sure that she hasn’t?”

This made Rick pause and study the old man’s composure. Without moving his eyes, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialed a number and listened for his wife to answer the call. “Hey, it’s me,” he paused. “No, everything’s fine. Look, has someone called for me recently?” Another pause, then, “Oh. Yeah, thanks. I love you, too,” then he disconnected the line and put the phone back into his pocket. “How’d you know?”

Frederick nodded sympathetically and hailed the flight attendant who arrived moments later. “I’d like a Scotch, please, and,” he glanced over at Rick. Rick shook his head and Frederick turned back to the attendant. “Coffee for my friend, thank you.” They were waited on, drinks placed on their turntables, and Frederick turned to face Rick.

“You see, Richard, I don’t dream of Orion. I dream of the Great War. My lineage is bent on protecting the Forbidden Realms at all costs. You’ve already met James. He tried to get me to become a guardian like him, but I refused. I regret it now, though,” he paused here and tried to remember the only times he met his ancestor in the caverns of hell. “No, I don’t dream of Orion. I dream of prophecies to unfold. I admit, I’m not as good as the true guardians, but I knew this time would come,” he explained and sipped from his drink.

Prophecies? This word rang some familiar bell inside Rick’s head. He remembered hearing of some prophecy about his son and Allen. But before he could inquire about this topic, the plane bumped and jolted in the air, causing everyone on board to question their reasons for taking this flight.

Frederick grimaced and shook his head as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I really hate flying,” he replied as fear oozed from his lips which caused Rick to laugh out loud.

It wasn’t the creature called Orion that Tracy dreamt of as she caught some shut-eye during her flight to Ireland. Dark destinies were unfolding before her although she could not decipher the meanings of the dream.

She had that odd feeling of déjà vu.

Her dream consisted only of women. At first she wondered if she was having some lesbian subconscious fantasy, but then she saw that three of the women were garbed in habits.

Tracy found herself walking down a dark walkway; the moist chill in the air caused her to run her hands over her arms to warm them. The sky was a cloudy overcast and leaves were falling all around her feet, blowing in circlets around her ankles.

She cautiously approached the trio of pious women and found that they were kneeling in prayer around a fourth woman lying on the ground. Tracy peered over the blackened habits and saw, to her surprise, that the nuns were praying to an unconscious likeness of her own self.

Surprised as she was, Tracy was not in the least terrified. This was only the beginning of mysteries that lie ahead of her.