1
Summoned
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James Holter thrashed violently in his bed as he awoke. He ended up upright, his breathing heavy and his hands going to his bare chest in a desperate hurry. His room was lit up by the light of his phone, which was on the ground, along with a couple of other things he had knocked over in his sleep.
“Shit,” he managed out, the memory of his dream fleeing from his mind as fast as he awoke. By the time James grabbed his fallen phone, the recollections of his nightmare were gone forever, leaving the twenty-five-year-old man confused and slightly shaken.
He looked down at the fallen items, his eyes scanning them. He let out a breath of relief, thankful that his father’s ashes weren’t among the damage. The silver urn, which had been on its small shrine near his desk for years, was still there.
James rubbed at his tired eyes before his gaze drifted to the nearby window in his cramped bedroom. He looked down at his phone, which displayed the time. It was still early morning, a good hour before he was supposed to go to work. This was the hundredth time James had been awakened so early by some nightmare he couldn’t remember.
“Can’t even go to sleep anymore,” James muttered. He looked down at his shaking hands, which were a result of whatever he had seen in that dream. He wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anymore.
“Might as well get ready for work. Maybe I’ll be able to clock in early.” James stood from his bed and grabbed a work shirt and some jeans from his bin of clean clothes. After grabbing a clean pair of boxers, he headed outside his room.
James was surprised to see his roommate and best friend, Nick, sitting at the cheap kitchen table. He was watching a movie on his laptop, his hands shoveling cereal into his open maw.
“You’re up early?” James asked.
“Nah, couldn’t sleep,” Nick muttered a tired answer. He turned to James, his right hand brushing some messy black hair to the side. “Another rude awakening?” He asked.
James nodded. “Yeah. Can’t remember why either.”
“Damn.” Nick leaned back in his chair, both hands reaching behind his head. “Stress might be doing that to you. I know Monica has been giving you hell lately for missing dates.”
James stopped midway to the bathroom. He almost wanted to call that idea stupid. Then again, he couldn’t help but think back to his last argument with his girlfriend, Monica. It was a nasty one that nearly resulted in both parties breaking up. The reason why? James had wanted to move out of the city and pursue a different job upstate.
He recently got the opportunity thanks to Nick’s father, who had called in a favor to the company. It was James’ chance to actually put his degree to use and get paid for something other than manual labor in a job he was starting to dislike.
Monica clearly didn’t like the news. She had called James selfish and ungrateful, especially since her friend Mike had vouched for James at his current workplace. Monica was technically the reason why James could afford half the rent in his apartment with Nick.
The couple were currently on thin ice after their argument, the entire ordeal enough to give James a headache. As much as he wanted to pursue a better job, he felt as if he did owe Monica. If it weren’t for her, James probably would still be living with his aunt back in the small town he grew up in, alone and isolated from the world as his friends went off to live their lives in the city.
James’ long silence prompted Nick to turn back to his laptop.
“Either that or maybe your meds are the problem,” Nick commented before his focus went back to eating cereal and watching his possibly pirated movie.
James frowned. That was another good point. He turned his gaze to the bathroom, where his small bottle of pills was awaiting him.
‘I’ll skip taking them for the moment. I’ll talk to my doctor the next time I see him.’
With that, James headed off to the bathroom to shower and hopefully be awake enough to drive to work unharmed.
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There were two things James hated about life in the city. The first was the constant traffic in the morning. The second was finding the perfect parking space outside his workplace.
James cursed to himself as he rounded the parking lot, his eyes scanning for the perfect spot. None showed, even though this was a gated lot for employees only.
‘If only I didn’t take that stupid nap!’
James’ drive to work took much longer than expected due to the traffic and his nauseating urge to sleep. He would have crashed had he not parked aside and slept. Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a short nap turned into a near hour long slumber. Add that and the constant traffic, and James was pretty much fucked.
After his second round around the lot, James decided to bite the bullet and look for a spot outside the gated parking lot.
He ended up parking two blocks away.
James hurried to grab his phone and lock his mid-2000s piece of junk before he rushed to work, neglecting to take his lunch and wallet. Getting to work as soon as possible was his number one priority. He was late enough as it was.
Just as James was about to sprint off, however, he couldn’t help but feel a strange and cold presence wash over him. He looked around the street, which was weirdly barren of any life. No car passed through and not a single person was in sight. It was dead quiet as well, the surrounding city weirdly silent.
‘That’s weird. Silence. Wait…’
No, there was something making noise. Something distant and near quiet. Upon focusing on his hearing, James swore he could hear some kind of whispering and hushed mutters coming from somewhere.
The young man turned to a nearby alley, which was devoid of any light. Something about the darkness caught his attention. Was there something hiding in there? Just staring at it, James could swear the chanting and whispers were getting louder. The longer he stared at the alley, the more his eyes started to catch something hiding in there—a glint of light that seemed barely visible. As he debated whether to investigate the alley, a truck’s horn snapped him out of his stupor.
It was almost like he had entered a different world. The sounds of the city came back rushing to his ears. The constant beeping, distant arguments, and dogs barking drowned out the thoughts in his head.
‘What was that?’
James quickly shook off the eerie experience and shoved it out of his mind. He instead focused on his current goal: to get to work fast.
He launched into a run, his steel-toe work boots impacting and skidding against the concrete sidewalk in a rush. After running through semi-busy streets and dirty alleyways, James would finally reach the warehouse. He punched in the gate code and rushed past as it opened for him. He sprinted to the double doors in the back, slamming them open, and hurriedly rushed to the small electronic device on the nearby wall.
James pressed his thumb against the small black sensor, watching as the blue-tinged screen flashed his name and hours.
J. Holter
9:13 a.m.
08/28/20
Hours: 35.9
“Shit!” James cursed aloud, earning a couple of looks from some passing co-workers. He was an hour late to his job again. He lightly banged his head against the wall, unsure of how he was supposed to explain his tardiness.
He could always tell the truth, but explaining to his supervisors that he was late due to mysterious night terrors ruining his sleep obviously didn’t sound right.
‘Excuses. That’s all I’ve been giving them.’
James scratched at his scruffy blond beard, which was starting to grow out. He had forgotten to shave again, another result of his lack of sleep and low energy. At this rate, he’ll start to look like a bum, which would be ironic depending on how the next few hours would go.
“James, bosses are calling for you,” a voice called from behind James. It was Sam, a fellow co-worker. He looked more than a bit worried as he gave the news.
“Both of them?” James forced out as he stood up straight.
Sam nodded.
“Damn. Alright. Thanks.” James sighed before he headed off in the direction of the offices.
“Good luck,” Sam called out. “I hope they don’t tear into you too hard.”
“Yeah…” James answered with a mutter. He would have to avoid getting fired. Again.
‘Just gotta take it to the chin. Maybe work some unpaid overtime.’
James stopped at the door that led to Kim’s office, the woman who had called for him. He felt himself hesitate, his instincts screaming at him to walk off and avoid the confrontation ahead. He pushed those feelings down. James knew damn well that he needed to face his problems, despite the consequences.
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“Just pick yourself up and press through,” James repeated what his late father had told him long ago. He knocked on the door, awaiting an answer.
“Come in,” a man’s voice called out, his accent outing him as the supervisor for inspection. James felt his chest tighten up at his voice.
‘This guy? Dammit.’
James braced himself as he entered the office, his eyes settling on the voice's origin. It was as he guessed. Supervisor Dante stood next to Kim, who was currently trying to look through her pile of unorganized papers. Kim turned around at the sound of the door opening, her expression softening at the sight of James.
“Take a seat if you want, but I won’t recommend it,” Kim called out. She sighed as she grabbed a clipboard. “This will be quick.”
James opted to stand, his eyes moving to Dante, who watched with a piercing gaze that befitted a hawk’s. He had a look that made it seem like he was internally judging everything. It didn’t help that he was constantly on James’ back, complaining and pointing out mishaps. No one in the warehouse even liked him. Hell, James was convinced Kim didn’t like him much.
Kim, his actual boss, had always defended James whenever Dante came to her and the other higher-ups about his work. She had vouched for and even recommended the young man for a promotion a month back. Of course, the possibility of working for a better wage slipped out of James’ fingers shortly after that.
James was never the ‘ideal’ worker, but he did his job well and consistently. He was decent and well-liked among his co-workers. It didn’t last long, however. Everything had gone to hell when the nightmares started. Constant loss of sleep, nighttime hallucinations, and exhaustion had all chipped away at his job and personal life.
James even had to get sleep meds, but those rarely worked. If anything, they made it worse.
“James, do you have any idea how many times you’ve been late? Let alone the hours you’ve clearly missed,” Kim’s voice echoed loudly in the small room, her words striking James like a pair of weights. The young man avoided eye contact with both her and Dante. He tried to focus instead on the nearby window, which displayed the workers and their daily routine.
James could see his reflection in the glass, his tired, dark blue eyes staring back at him. While short, his blond hair was disheveled and messy, and his scruffy beard was no different. All in all, he looked exhausted and drained.
“James, look at me,” Kim’s voice called back to James, snapping him out of his trance. She was a short middle-aged woman, 5’6 at best, with high heels. James himself was easily 6’2, a giant compared to her. Still, he was intimidated by her and Dante, mainly because they were both the source of his paychecks, therefore the reason why he wasn’t sleeping on the streets and why he was able to live like a decent human being.
“You’ve been constantly late, James. I know you have some issues with your personal life, but this is unacceptable.” Kim frowned as she spoke. “I’ve been bailing you out this past month, doing my best to make sure you get to keep your job.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that–” James was cut off when Dante raised a hand.
“Excuses, excuses. That will get you nowhere. This is serious, James!” Dante almost shouted. James bit his tongue in response, his gaze moving back to Kim.
Kim had a stern and almost regretful look. It was clear that she was no longer going to defend James.
“Here,” Kim muttered as she held out the clipboard in her hand. James cautiously took it and focused on the contents.
“Shit.” James wanted to facepalm himself. He had no other words. The damn sheet looked like a five-year-old was given a red sharpie and was told to go to town on it. The fact that he was getting flak for it now showed the limits of Kim’s patience.
“Yeah. Pretty much,” Kim agreed with a sigh, her hands taking back the clipboard. “James. I have to let you go. I’m sorry if this seems sudden, but we can’t keep you here if you’re siphoning money from the company…”
James didn’t hear anything of what Kim was saying, his mind drowning out her voice. He already knew what was coming. Deep inside, he wanted to argue and point out other workers, such as Aaron or Mike, as they never seemed to be around in the workplace. In fact, that asshole Mike had done nothing contributory to the company ever since his promotion last month.
Outside of harassing the women at work, Mike had instead put all his time into that damned bike he bought recently. If it weren’t for the fact that Mike had gotten him this job, James would have surely started something with the wannabe frat boy.
James held back his biting comments about the other man. He was angry at the wrong person. There was no one else at fault for this other than James himself. That realization had already set in before he was given the clipboard. There was no arguing with this, even if there were others who were worse. It was the basic principle of three strikes. While the other troublemakers had only two warnings, James had more than exceeded excuses. This was his own doing.
“Do you understand?” Kim finished finally, crossing her arms as she sat back on her desk. Despite not hearing a word past ‘company,’ James fully understood Kim, his eyes dropping to the ground as he sighed tiredly.
“Yeah. I understand.”
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“Hey! You’ve reached Monica! Please leave a messa–”
James cursed under his breath as he pressed the red ‘End Call’ button. The sweat that stung his eyes didn’t make it any better. The August heat was proving to be a pain in the ass. His car’s AC had stopped working at some point in the past year, making the summer unbearable.
‘At least I don’t have to pull my window down. Not when it's in pieces.’
James looked at his shattered passenger window, which had happened when he left his car to park that morning. Apparently, despite being away for only fifteen minutes, someone had broken in and stole both his wallet and lunch. James had already called his bank to turn his cards off, but he was fairly certain that a thief wouldn’t be interested in the three bucks he had in his bank account. As for the thirty dollars Nick had lent him for gas, that was most certainly gone.
“Just need to get to Monica’s,” James muttered. His car had some life in it yet. It would be enough for him to drive to Monica’s house and his apartment. He just needed to talk to her about the possibility of moving in.
Monica had her own place, a house given to her via a will. Her uncle had previously owned the property before he died and left it to her. That wasn’t the only thing left to her. Monica had been jobless for a while now, relying primarily on unemployment checks and whatever was left of her inheritance. James hadn’t really pressed her about getting a job, since any mention of it would spark some kind of argument.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he never could get over the fact that he and Monica never got each other. They had initially been fine during the first two years of dating, but something had changed after she had gotten her inheritance. She smoked a lot more, went out constantly, and had been fairly distant with James.
‘Could it be my fault?’
James had been getting distant with her. Lately, it felt as if their interests had changed in the past year. Instead of trying to salvage their relationship, James had opted to give Monica space and avoid arguing as much as he could. Work didn’t help either, since he needed to pay off the rest of his student loans.
“Maybe now that I don’t have a job, I can probably spend some more time with her,” James said to himself. There was at least some kind of silver lining to this cursed day. Then again, he would probably have to float the idea of his job opportunity to her. It was more than likely to start another argument.
James would finally pull up to the small suburban home, which sat just outside the city. He put his car in park and turned it off, his thoughts going to the inevitable arguing that awaited him.
“Just pick yourself up and press forth,” he repeated to himself as he stepped out of his vehicle. Once James had forced his door closed, a familiar feeling washed over him. It was the same feeling from that morning. The cold that tickled at his spine and neck, bringing out goosebumps and a shiver from him. Accompanying it were the hushed whispers of something distant and unrecognizable.
James slowly turned around, his focus on where the soft chattering was coming from. His eyes settled on the nearby community park, which was void of any signs of life. The swings swung emptily, and the playground was eerily vacant.
James focused on the group of trees that sat undisturbed and isolated behind it all, their canopies casting an unnatural dark shadow beneath. He stared, almost mesmerized by the void. He took a step forward, the whispers in his ears beckoning him to come closer.
Ring! Ring!
James was snapped out of his hypnotic state by the sound of a bell. He turned to the source, which turned out to be a couple of neighborhood kids riding their bikes nearby. They passed by James, nearly running over his shoes in the process. The lead kid turned back to the confused man, his thumb and index finger forming an L on his forehead.
“Watch where you’re going, hobo!”
They called and laughed as they rode off, leaving James dumbfounded. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, unsure of what to think.
“The exhaustion is getting to me. I need to get some actual rest,” James groaned. He shook himself awake before heading up to Monica’s home. As he did so, he noted the red motorcycle parked nearby. James shrugged it off, but soon realized something. He stopped right at the lawn of the house. He took another look at the motorcycle.
It was Mike’s bike. James wasn’t sure at first, but after inspecting it some more, he recognized the small punisher sticker and markings on the rear fender. It was his bike, through and through.
‘What’s Mike doing here? Isn’t he on vacation?’
That was right. Mike had taken some days off to tend to some personal matters. That was why James was tasked with his responsibilities for the week. Yet here was Mike, parked outside Monica’s house. James stared at the bike, his mind going to the few possibilities.
‘No. He’s just a mutual friend. He can’t…He took his days off for…but…’
James tried to justify it, to find a plausible reason. Yet his chest tightened, and his rage began to broil. The stress that he had built up from that day came into full force, and before his better judgment could kick in, James was stomping over to Monica’s porch. He flipped the doormat, grabbing the hidden house key Monica kept under there.
Without a word, James burst into the home. He staggered at the overwhelming stench of nicotine and pot, his eyes watering at the sudden attack on his senses. Regardless, he marched through in a fit of rage, kicking aside trash and discarded clothing.
Not long after his loud entrance, he could hear the sound of Monica’s voice, panicked and elated, as she shushed the sound of another voice, a male voice.
Monica stumbled out of her bedroom in a hurry, a blanket over her naked, pale body. Her eyes widened, and she raised a pleading hand.
“James?! What–?!” She didn’t even finish as James pushed past her, entering the room she had just vacated. The fog from her smoking was so intense that James had to squint through the hazy room. His eyes finally locked onto his target. A tall, lanky Mike stood by the bed, his pants halfway on as he looked at James like a deer in headlights.
Everything went by in a blur. James can only remember the screaming from Monica as he punched the bastard, who was still half-naked.
Crack!
That was Mike’s nose breaking, blood flowing out as confirmation. James threw another punch, sending specks of blood everywhere. Mike had tried to fight back, his fist swinging wildly at James. Despite his attempt at a counter, nothing he did faze James, even when he was swinging like crazy.
Mike’s arms soon went limp when James’ fist met his face for the umpteenth time, more blood staining both men.
By the time James stopped, he had already lost count of his hits. Still, he had a feeling that he would’ve eventually killed the guy if he had kept going. He dropped him to the floor, panting as Monica went to help the broken man. She was babbling something about James being a ‘Fucking Psychopath’ and how he should get out before she called the cops. James didn’t listen to a single word. He was already halfway out, not wanting to even be near her.
Before he knew it, James was standing on the front porch, his fists covered in bruises and his body aching. He breathed in the crisp air outside, his lungs thanking him. James took a couple of shaky steps off the porch, his balance wavering as he tried to get to his car.
Even crossing the street was difficult, as his legs wobbled and threatened to give out beneath him. James would soon shut himself inside his car, his breathing slowly steadying. He looked down at his hands, which bled a mix of his and Mike’s blood. James could even feel his cheek aching. He turned to the rear-view mirror, seeing how there was a small bruise forming on his right cheek.
Mike must have landed a blow on him during their encounter. James didn’t even process it at the time.
‘I didn’t even think. I just blanked out.’
James never knew he still had this urge for violence, as he now hated to be in such situations. Fighting was a bad habit he had back in highschool, back when he was looking for a way to cope with the grief of losing his mother. It had only made things worse for him back then, and the young man had since tried to find peace with himself.
James swallowed down his regret and searched his glove compartment, grabbing an old stick of gum and popping it in his mouth. For the next few minutes, he would try to ease the stress away before finally driving off, leaving Monica’s house for good.