Playing the hero was one thing, being one was quite another. Dressing up in a cape and tights and leaping to the aid of fair maidens was a delusion. It’s why I enjoyed it, but this letter, the dagger, the blood, and Ingrid, had brought everything to such a realistic level that it left me decidely uncomfortable. I had expected Professor Zultner to say or do something, but it was as though nothing had happened. We finished off Sir Gawain and The Green Knight and were barreling through the blood and guts of 'Beowulf', when Professor Zultner paused to consider some fine point we had missed. Dorothy seemed to have a pen chance for gore.
Evans was inconspicuously absent, which by me, was fine.
Ingrid and I were not sure how we should treate each other. Either the events of the last few days were going to drive us together or apart. Which way was the silent question on our minds. We were both afraid to voice it, because if we did we might have to answer it. At the root was how exactly did we fit into the letter’s message. I was sitting a few rows away from her and was examining her tightly braided blond hair. My eyes followed the intimate curves of the braid. She had woven something green into her hair, a thin piece of fabric. Professor Zultner droned on, her voice drawed out in long, aristocratic vowels.
“Mr. Jones, can you explain it?”
Her voice snapped me rudely out of my idyll. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” With Dorothy, telling the truth was always the best option.
“How was it possible to swim dressed in full chain mail?” she repeated.
Was this the prompt both Ingrid and I were expecting, the prompt that would tie us with the letter and what she wanted us to do next?
“Maybe he was swimming in something other than water..." I said lamely. "Maybe it was some other dimension he had entered into. I mean, how could he dive down to the bottom of the sea, fight it out with Grendel’s mom, all the while holding his breath?”
Zultner looked immensely bored. She tapped her gold cigarette case and looked at her wrist watch. She smiled at me. “Saved by the clock; while your idea has some substance, may I suggest you collaborate with Miss Zoor and come up with a more plausible theory. Meet me in room 102 in the dungeon tower. Let’s say, Thursday? Good. As for the rest of you I will expect your well crafted thesis ideas next Friday. I would like to stay, but I have a pressing appointment.”
And with that Professor Zultner banished us by taking long vigorous strides up the aisle and out of the lecture hall. She had given us our prompt. The students drained away, but we remained until we were alone. Ingrid was staring forward refusing to turn around.
I cleared my throat, but still she didn’t move. Then I noticed that her head and shoulders were slightly trembling. She was crying. With that realization I was propelled into the seat next to her. I touched her arm and the shivering stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned to me, her cheeks wet and stained with tears. “I really like you,” she confessed. “I was hoping...”
I gave her a confused smile. “I really like you to. So, you like me, and I like you. I suppose...” I leaned in to kiss her. With that, she was out of her seat and backing away from me as though she had been shocked. "What is it?”
She just backed away, eyes wide like a hunted deer, until she reached the aisle where she turned and sprinted for the exit. I was left thoroughly confused. In Beowulf’s world things were simple. Bad guys were monsters that ripped people apart and ate them. Good guys hunted the monsters and killed them. I wanted to yell out after her...but what was the sense. She was gone.
That night, I turned on my Major Tom app and prepared for action. I can’t explain it, but whenever I had troubles like these I sought solace in some sort of self-destructive behaviour. Because the swelling in my face was down substantially I was able to easily put on my yellow and red mask. Part of me knew I was going to run into Evans and his gang tonight, but I didn’t really care.
I looked out the window. There was darkness out there. It was as though every particle of air had been filled up to the brim and could hold no more. I took a deep breath. On the other side of the glass the sentient darkness was waiting.
Picking up my phone I texted Kam. I had promised him, so I thought I better come good. ‘Going out...'
Just then came my first call. Little Major Tom was jumping up and down on my screen, his jet pack sputtering away. In the first moments of my answer, I felt the darkness coming in through the phone.
“Jay...is this you, Jay...”
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I knew the voice. It was Ingrid’s and by her tone, she sounded in trouble.
“Ingrid, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“It’s after me. You have to help me...” Her voice was broken, interrupted by jarring sounds. She was trying to get away from someone or something.
“Where are you?”
“I’m behind the Complex. I’m going to try to make it to the panic station...”
I wanted to swear, but that wouldn’t have helped. If there was one place on campus that was the most dangerous, the place most likely for an attack, it was the path behind the Complex. It was bordered by a thick stand of pines on one side and the tall wall of the building on the other. The lights there were in permanent need of repair. Nobody could explain it. From the point of instillation to expiration, the lights lasted about one week. As a result physical facilities just didn’t bother repairing them. It left a zone of darkness.
“I’m coming.”
My phone vibrated with an incoming text. It was Kam. I was only able to text B-C... in before running out of my dorm and down the hall, my caped flapping heroically behind me. I jumped on my bike because I knew it would take too much time to run the distance. My bike was old and rusted and I kept it that way on purpose. Nobody steals a dilapidated bike. Squeaking down the road, I jumped the curb and headed off over the grass. Time is a funny thing when the adrenalin is pumping, you lose track of it. I really don’t know how long it took, but I dumped the bike and ran into the dark behind the complex. As was expected the main light was burned out. Off in the distance, catching the pool of light from the parking lot was the panic station. I ripped off my mask.
“Ingrid,” I yelled.
There was no response, nobody moved in the darkness, but something was there, waiting, and like a fool, I ran towards it. Off to the side of the path was a darker blotch that looked like someone kneeling on the grass hunched over. Somehow I knew the dark form was ontop of Ingrid. I had to act quickly. I yelled and hurled myself right at the form. With incredible speed the thing moved to the side avoiding me. I flew through the air hitting the ground. Clumsily I rolled up, fists clenched.
Nothing. Whatever had been there a moment ago was gone. Ingrid was still curled up in a protective foetal ball. I touched her shoulder. She was so very cold.
“Ingrid, are you all right?”
Much to my relief she gave a slight moan. At least she was alive.
A dry rasping sound like bones being rubbed together issued from the pines. Then I realized it was laughter, the bone sounds were laughter.
I fumbled about, standing over Ingrid, horrified. The hair on the back of my neck was vibrating. “Who’s there?” I yelled trying to keep my voice from wavering. I scanned the edge of the pines but couldn't see anything, but it was out there, watching.
Another sound echoed in the woods. It wasn’t one voice but the sound of many voices. I had heard something like it only once before. It was a pack of coyotes. One would begin and then the others, in a chaotic chorus would join in. It would rise in crescendo and then suddenly stop. It was like being driven to the edge of a cliff and then left hanging.
“What do you want?” I yelled. Ingrid was regaining consciousness. Then I saw them, red dots in the woods, several of them moving, bobbing, close to the ground. There was a snuffling noise as if they were scenting us out. They were wary, but part of me could sense the hunger, their desire to attack, to kill, but something was holding them back. Slowly a large figure detached itself from the woods and began to glide towards me. It was the thing I had tried to tackle, but now it was standing upright and it looked rather imposing. The red eyes seemed to gather around it.
Ingrid was on her knees. It was then that I noticed the blood on her neck.
“We must get away. It is all ready too powerful,” she said intently.
“What is it?” I asked, my mouth going dry.
“Dra Ullah...the Dragon...bad blood. We have to get out of here, now...”
She was standing and I could see the pain in her face. “Are you all right? You’re bleeding.”
“I am?” she touched her neck and when she saw the blood on her hands, her eyes widened. I thought she was going to pass out, but she stabilized herself by grabbing my arm. “Gerald, undo my hair.” I hesitated and she shouted at me. “Now!”
As I tugged at her braid, the form at the lip of the pines and the red eyes were starting to make a strange keening sound. I tugged her hair lose.
“Now pull out the green cloth.”
It felt familiar and then I realized that the strip of cloth was of the same material that Sir Gawaine’s girdle was made from. “Is this…” I started.
“Wrap it around your right hand,” she instructed. As I wrapped it around my hand I noticed that she was doing the same thing with her left hand. Wecontinued until our hands touched.
The shade, or whatever it was began to move towards us across the grass.
“You know,” I mumbled, “If we have to run having our hands tied like this is going to make it difficult.”
“We’re not running,” she said defiantly glaring across the grass, “not anymore.”
“Ah, well – I hope you know what you’re doing, because you weren’t doing so well just a moment ago.”
“That was before you got here.”
I was flattered, but I really didn’t know how much good I was going to be against the things that were coming at us. The red eyes were now swirling around the dark figure, buzzing like so many angry insects. Part of me was glad that they weren’t the eyes of wolves, but then…red hot killer bees wouldn’t be any better.
“What is it?”
“I think you’ve already asked that question,” she said tersely. I was glad to have my stern, Saxon princess back. It was clear she was going to fight, but I had no idea how, or what we were going to fight with.
Just then a pair of high beams bounced across the grass blinding us. It was Kam in his ‘buggy’ which was nothing other than a glorified golf cart. He pulled up beside us and scanned the dark. “Let me suggest, you get in, now, before it comes back.”
When I looked, the dark form was gone.
“You saw it?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, of course I saw it. I’ve been protecting the two of you from it for the last month.”