More than anything, Nathan wanted to feel the warmth that his late wife’s voice had always made him feel, from the day they first met until those last few questioning words she uttered before he found her body sprawled on the livingroom floor. There was something about the way Joan said it, sweetness, that made it sound as if that one word wasn’t meant for anyone else in the world but him.

He wanted so badly to feel that way now. He needed to feel that way now. After all these years struggling to navigate the world without her, struggling to raise the twins without the balance of her softening touch. He tried so hard to ignore the sense of warning his spirit was trying to tell him, a warning that brushed aside the replayed memories and assurances of trust and familiarity, because whatever this was it was not his Joan. This was something else entirely.

Then came the sound of something placing enough weight on the stairs below that they creaked and groaned in complaint. That first sound was distant, which let Nathan know they reached deep into whatever that darkness held. It was accompanied by that wet, fleshy dragging sound, as if whatever was coming up the stairs was pulling something heavy along behind it.

But then, as whatever this was continued upward, step by step, the stairs complained less, and whatever was being pulled along behind must have detached itself as Nathan heard the sound of a heavy object tumbling down the stairs until it landed back on the hard surface below with a loud slapping noise.

By the time The Choice reached the top of the stairs, its form was the same as what Eretha had witnessed at her first meeting, an awkward being fashioned from wrong angles and unrecognizable materials that weren’t meant to fit together in any sort of harmony. It was short, shorter than Nathan by a good foot or more, and the look in its eyes, which were nothing more than twin holes drilled into the face, appeared somewhat sad and tired.

But then it smiled, and gestured toward the table and chairs.

“Please. Sit. I know this must be confusing for you.”

Nathan said nothing at first, preferring not to answer yet another unreality that he had encountered in such a brief span of time. The one question he couldn’t get out of his mind was why in the world had he been chosen for this? What had he ever done?

The Choice nodded sympathetically.

“I hear your questions and I understand. Perfectly sensible, and that is what I would want to know as well if I were in your situation. Which is why I am asking you to sit. Please.”

Nathan frowned.

“How did you…?”

“I could answer that, and I will, but I don’t believe that is really the question you want to ask me right now.”

Nathan stared at the improbability of The Choice for a while longer before allowing himself to take the few steps forward from where he had been standing and take a seat at the small table.

“There’s water,” said The Choice. “And please don’t be afraid. Despite all that you have seen and experienced, it really is just plain water. I have no reason to poison you, or to lie to you. Only if you’re thirsty of course. No need to drink if you’re not…”

Nathan grabbed the glass and swallowed its contents in three large gulps, not putting it back down until it was empty. The Choice smiled wider.

“Well I’d say that’s a start.”

“I heard my wife’s voice.”

“Yes. You did.”

“She called me sweetness, which ain’t no way you could have known because that was just between her and me.”

“Yes.”

“So then where the fuck is my wife?”

The Choice, who had remained standing at the top of the stairs throughout their initial exchange, now decided to take his seat at the table. His smile that perverted the definition of the word remained.

“I believe you were there when your wife died, isn’t that correct?”

Nathan felt a surge of rage rising up from his gut, but he managed all the restraint he had to keep it in check and not allow it to rise any further. This, after all, was not his territory. And first rule of the fight game was not only to know who you were fighting but to know where you were fighting if you weren’t in familiar surroundings. And these were the most unfamiliar surroundings he had ever seen.

“You know I was,” he said.

“And I am very about your loss and about what that did to you. But you must also therefore realize that your Joan, the Joan you knew, can no longer be exactly who she was. The way she was. That is, for her to continue to exist. Changes were necessary.”

“I heard her the first time. Which makes this confusing, and I don’t like to be confused. Is this all some sort of trick to use me for something? Or did that voice I heard really belong to my wife?”

“It is not a trick. She has been changed out of necessity, but not by much. As you will see. But it is also true that we do plan to use you. You deserve the truth so there it is. We knew that..”

“We…?”

“Not important right now, Nathan. Please focus on what is important. We knew that the only way to get you to pay attention, to hear what we had to say, was through your wife. I believe that was made clear to you earlier.”

“I’m betting you could have just forced me. Right? I mean, if that’s what you really wanted.”

The Choice shook its head, feigning a sad expression. Or maybe it was for real. How could he possibly tell?

“No. I am afraid not. Just because we are strange to you does not mean we are all-powerful. Not yet.”

“Wait. Wait…what? What do you mean not yet?”

“Joan will be here shortly.”

Back to Part 29

Table of Contents

The memory of Joan’s dead body on the living room floor disappeared suddenly, as if someone had turned it off. The darkness returned for an extended time before Nathan was eased back into the surreality of his present day surroundings. The massive black box appeared larger than before, both in height and circumference, pressing against the ceiling which now appeared higher than he remembered. The strange symbols and glyphs embossed across its metallic surface spun and played back and forth as if working to unlock a code.

The door to the box was open wide, beside which the Noctus stood silently. Expectantly.

He waited to hear Joan’s voice once more, to confirm her request. But all he heard was the echoing wind that reached out to him from a seemingly impossible depth contained within.

“And if I don’t?” said Nathan, looking directly at the Noctus feeling more anger than fear.

There was no answer.

“Right.”

Nathan took two long strides toward the box, inhaled deeply, then stepped inside. He heard the door clang shut behind him, then turned to watch as the outline of where the door had been erased itself, leaving nothing but a blank copper-colored wall lit by…

Where was that light coming from?

Wherever the origin, the light was weak, more like what he would have expected from a candle or a weak bulb. Except that there was neither a candle or a lightbulb of any sort that he could see as he turned around full circle to try and get some sense of his surroundings. What he saw was that he was standing inside what appeared to be a featureless rectangular room with a low ceiling no higher than a foot above his head. At the far end of the room was a small table accompanied by two wooden chairs, one at each end. There was a small glass of water placed in front of each chair on the table. Behind the table was a set of stairs that descended into shadow.

“Hello?”

His voice came out flat, and he wondered what had happened to the echoing sound that he had heard earlier, a sound that had to have come from somewhere much, much larger than where he was right now. No way could all those echoes and other strange noises have originated from this plain-looking room.

“Joan? Hey.You told me to step inside and now I’m here. So what is it I’m supposed to do now? Was that really you or was that another trick?”

A dry hissing noise rose up from the shadows at the base of the stairs, followed by what sounded like something very heavy and slick pulling itself across a hard surface. Toward the stairs? Nathan reflexively took a step back, even though he had nowhere to go.

“Shit. I’m gonna die in here.”

He recognized the giggle that greeted his stark end of days declaration, yet at the same time he recognized it as being off, like a familiar musical instrument that was just enough out of key.

The room wasn’t cold, but he felt a chill.

“Sweetness.”

Back to Part 28

On to Part 30

Table of Contents

The scene at first was somewhat hazy, an imprecise vision where unfamiliar shapes hovering just outside his view disappeared or morphed into something else altogether the moment he turned his head to see what it was he thought he may have seen, only to see whatever it was - or wasn’t - fade away.

“How…?” he mumbled, his lips finding difficulty in pronouncing even such a small word.

And then, like the curtain on a stage, the haze was lifted.

Nathan remembered this day, but he couldn’t remember how he had been returned here.

He and Joan were sitting side-by-side on the grass in a couple of folding chairs on Belle Isle. They were holding hands, each of them wearing shades and matching sunhats as they gazed out at the Detroit river sparkling in a playful dance of sunlight and diamonds not more than 20 feet away. There was a gentle breeze soothing their skin. Nathan could hear the laughter of the two small children playing off to his right as their parents set up a small tent, and the more distant sound of a boat making its way through the waves.

“Don’t worry about how, sweetness. That doesn’t matter for now.”

Joan’s voice had a tinge of echo, as if it were coming to him not through the fullness of her lips but surrounding him in an embrace.

“But are we really here?” Nathan asked.

“Of course we are, sweetness. Of course we are. Same as we were that day.”

Nathan felt a twinge of discomfort tug at his gut, maybe a warning? But soon as it came it disappeared into the comfort of memory, the memory of one of the best days he and Joan had ever spent together, enveloping him like a protective blanket. The pain of how much he had missed her, the emptiness that persisted like an open wound, was now being filled with a soothing warmth.

“How long can we stay?” he asked.

He felt her fingers squeeze tightly around his as she turned to face him with the most wonderful smile.

“Do we have to go back? I don’t know what this is, or how you did it, but I don’t care, Joan. I don’t care.”

Joan’s fingers gently disentangled themselves as she reached over to stroke his cheek, her smile becoming more sad. She shook her head.

“We’re here because this is how you remember me, Nathan. How you remember us. Because you deserve those memories. You’re a good man. I thought maybe if you could not only remember in your mind but be brought back to experience a place in time all over again where you felt how happy we were, maybe that would put you more at ease with what’s happening. With what it is that we have to do. But more importantly, I hoped it would convince you that this really is me and that you can trust me. Because I can tell you still have doubts, even after hearing my voice. Because you hear how my voice still doesn’t sound exactly right, the way only someone who knows someone else that well can recognize. And that’s OK. But our memories are ours, Nathan. The times we spent, both good and bad, belong to us. And no one else has access to those memories except us unless we allow it.”

Nathan turned away, closing his eyes. He mashed his lips together, as he always did when trying to hold back the anger that too often got him into trouble. Then he felt Joan’s fingers on his arm, landing softly like butterfly wings.

“We don’t have to go right now, though, sweetness. We still have time. A lot of time where we can just relax and be the way we were. Enjoy the love that we had, and still have. But when you’re ready, there is one more memory I need to take you to.”

Nathan felt his stomach grip like a fist, sensing what was about to come. A small tear leaked from his left eye, then dribbled down his cheek.

“Might as well go now. How can I enjoy any of this knowing I have to see you die all over again?”

Joan nodded in understanding, her fingers still resting lightly on his arm as the scenery around them began to slowly fade and melt, the colors and images running into each other like a beautiful oil painting that had been tossed into a fire. For a time, once the memory was completely gone, there was nothing but blackness and silence. The only sound Nathan could hear was his own anxious breathing. Then, slowly, the blackness began to decay until he was able to recognize his surroundings as their living room on that morning when he had found Joan’s body crumpled onto the floor, her legs caught in a strange pose, frozen in mid-stride of a sprint towards…

Where?

More tears streamed down Nathan’s face as he relived the breath-snatching pain of that moment, remembering the way she had called his name just before he entered the room. It had sounded like a question, like there was something she was about to ask him, but it also sounded a bit surprised.

And yet at this current moment he could feel Joan also standing beside him, even as he saw her body layed out before him at the exact time of her death. Her delicate fingers were once again entwined in his, same as they were on that perfect day spent together on Belle Isle. Except that this time her fingers felt cold, the texture dry and rough. Not like flesh at all but like something…else.

Nathan felt his heart beginning to race.

“The good and the bad, Nathan. The memories only you and I could know because only you and I shared them together. This is me, my love. Despite what your eyes will tell you. Now step inside.”

Back to Part 27

On to Part 29

Table of Contents

Nathan unfolded himself from his cross-legged position on the floor and stood up in a series of awkward motions, his eyes stretched open wide and filling with tears as they focused on the impenetrable darkness inside the open portal. For a long moment all he could manage was to stand in place, not certain whether he wanted to confirm what he was certain he had just heard; the voice of his dead wife. Because how was this possible? It wasn’t. It had to be some sort of sick prank being pulled on him by this Noctus creature that had begun to slowly expand and then contract in an apparent effort to breathe. Was this thing actually getting tired?

“Sweetness.”

It was as if he were being dipped into a pool of icewater. Nathan took a step backward, shaking his head, but still focusing his attention on the darkness of the portal.

“How…?”

“Because I knew it was the only way you would believe it was really me. And it is me, Nathan. You have to believe that. It is so important that you believe that right now before we see each other again. Because…because I won’t look how you remember, baby. They had to change me because…”

“They had to change you? Joan, if this is really you, then how much more could they change you? You were dead, years ago, and now you talkin to me from inside some black metal box that landed in my living room. And who is they? I don’t…”

“We hate to interrupt this reunion you two, touching though it may be. There is a higher purpose which will require both of you…”

“ What fucking purpose? What the hell do you want?”

“Nathan, please, don’t…”

Joan’s voice sounded pleading, almost scared. Nathan appeared almost electric in his sudden rage, his body vibrating and consumed with a dangerous intensity that threatened to consume his entire flesh, leaving behind nothing but a purity of white hot anger.

“Don’t what, Joan? This has not been a good day for me, OK? And now I’m hearing your voice and then these three things from another dimension somewhere and you’re telling me you don’t look like yourself anymore because somebody - or something - decided you had to be changed to look like something else. And what? You expecting me to just stay cool, calm and collected about all this? If it’s really you, that voice, then you know how long we was married before I lost you. Which means you know who I am, Veronica. You know who I am. And you know I can’t just sit still and smile for something like this.”

The trilogy of the Noctus continued its labored and exaggerated expansion/contraction of breathing - if that’s what it was doing - as it forced its three selves to merge and absorb into a singular entity resembling a repulsive blob of matter composed of mucus and mud. Nathan yanked his hands up from his sides and slapped them across his face to protect his nostrils from the overpowering stench that had suddenly become present in the room.

“What the…Jesus. What did you just do? You smell like…Jesus.”

“I require your attention, Nathan. Your full attention. I thought perhaps the long-lost voice of your beloved wife would deliver that attention, but it appears to have only sent you spiraling even more out of control and out of focus. But I can see even now that this particular aroma is erasing your distractions and recommitting your attention to what is necessary.”

“Man I will recommit to whatever the hell you want, just turn that stink off, OK? I can’t even think straight.”

The pungent aroma persisted for several minutes longer as Nathan was forced to calm himself down, and then the Noctus once again reconfigured itself from a mud and mucus blob pulsating in the corner into something that looked like a large dead tree branch sketched from black ash. The transformation occurred in an instant, from one frame to the next. Cautiously, Nathan eased his hands away from his face, his eyes fearful.

“What the hell are you, man? I mean really.”

“As I have told you before, we are the handmaidens of Death, our mother. We are the Noctus, and our existence is only to serve her. Now I believe I was explaining to you earlier about a higher purpose before you lost all control.”

“Still haven’t told me what you are, but whatever. Yeah. Purpose. Higher purpose. What about it?”

“They can’t answer you that, Nathan. They don’t know. But I can answer your questions, at least most of them, if you’ll let me.”

“Joan…”

Nathan’s voice was an ache.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this, sweetness. I am. But you can still trust me. You know I would never hurt you. Even now, as I am changed, I only want the best for you. And I just want for you to understand. I’ve been where you are, and I know how hard it is, but if you’ll just trust me we can get through this. Together.”

“I’ve always trust you, Joan. You know that. It’s just that…”

Shhh.

Back to Part 26

On to Part 28

Table of Contents

Nathan watched helplessly from his vantage point outside the unfolding scenario as he saw the fear in his mother’s eyes give way to a blank stare that recognized nothing at all. Her arms, which held his sister Eretha so tight to protect her child from the threat of The Creator, now dropped limply to her sides. Her mouth fell open, as if it had become unhinged, and a thin string of saliva began to extend from her bottom lip toward Eretha’s face which was tilted upward seeking an answer from a mother she didn’t know she had just lost forever.

“Momma!” she said again.

But Lilly had been erased, never to return. Without uttering a word she pushed Eretha away, then turned to leave the kitchen. She didn’t appear to even notice the creature that was still standing not more than three feet away, nor did she acknowledge her husband or the child Nathan as she walked past them in a stumbling gait, then turned down the hall toward the bedroom. Neither uttered a word as she passed, as if they already realized and accepted that this was no longer someone they knew.

“Momma where are you going!” cried Eretha, who then turned her child’s anger at The Creator.

“What did you do to my mother? What did you DO?”

The bedroom door closed with a hard click as Lilly locked herself inside. A long uncomfortable silence followed as Eretha and the creature regarded one another, the creature perhaps wondering for a moment whether the child deserved an answer.

“Come here, baby,” said Hannibal, uttering his first uncertain words since the entire event which had rendered him somewhat in shock. But the danger to his baby girl was all the prompt he needed to step outside of his fear regardless of the risk to himself.

“Eretha? Come over here to me and Nathan. It’s gonna be all right, hear? Daddy’s got you.”

Which was what Hannibal wanted to believe. Which is what any parent would want to believe when standing between their child and a threat to that child’s life. Love is a powerful force, but love can’t save everything. The crack in love’s weakness, when love looks the other way, was what permitted The Creator to reach out to Hannibal and his son, causing both of them to fade into a fog of their former selves that, together with the erasure they had already performed on Lilly, would peel their family apart.

“It pains me to have to do this to one so young,” said The Creator, its voice becoming an echo.

“I don’t believe that,” said Eretha, who against all reason appeared to have no fear.

“And perhaps you shouldn’t. Perhaps it is better for you that you don’t. Nevertheless I do feel compelled to tell you this. As you grow older you will come to realize that there are times when you must do a thing that brings you no pleasure, but a thing that must be done nevertheless. That is the way of life, and of death as well. That is the way of existence.”

“I just want my mother back,” said Eretha, her voice a small whisper.

“Oh child…”said The Creator.

And then it was done.

Nathan watched as the re-enacted scene before him began to melt away like a dream made of hot wax until it was replaced with the reality of his livingroom where moments that felt like hours ago he had encountered the trilogy of the Noctus for the first time. He sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the worn wooden planks, his hands gripped tightly in his lap.

“What happened to her?” he asked.

“To your sister Eretha?”

“Yes. To my sister.”

“If you are asking what happened to her just now, the beast that calls themselves The Creator erased her memories of their meeting, just as they erased the memories of your father and yourself. Until now. Mother Death has granted us permission to share these memories with you to make you whole with the fullness of the truth.”

“Why would she do that? Because I think I would have felt better if I hadn’t seen all this. My father always said some things you’re better off not knowing, and he said a lot of crazy things to us, but I think he knew what he was talking about when he said that.”

“Your preference for the darkness is understandable. We have existed in darkness for since beyond the existence of time. And that is the sin of The Creator, which is why they constantly attempt to outpace the judgment of their crimes. But they know the day of judgment is gaining on them. The seed of Mary is strong. Stronger than The Creator.”

Nathan shook his head, then grinned and chuckled.

“I got no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, hear? None. And I don’t know how you think I would. What the hell is it you want from me?”

The door to the box opened wide with a loud metallic creaking as the undecipherable symbols etched on its sides began began to writhe and flow in a serpentine rhythm. The Noctus motioned toward the open portal.

“Our task was simply to reach you. The answers you seek are inside.”

That’s when Nathan heard the soft tug of a familiar voice reaching out to him from the box. It was a voice that made his heart break and overflow at the same time.

“Joan?”

Back to Part 25

On to Part 27

Table of Contents

“It is good you are afraid, but you do not need to be,” said the creature.

“You just crawled out of my clock while turning yourself into a for real spider, and you terrified both my children and my husband. And me. And now you just stood up on two legs and turned yourself into something else that I don’t even know what you are. How am I not gonna be afraid of that?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that we were the one who should actually be afraid? Because it’s true.”

“We? But there is only one of you. What…?”

“We are a singular entity. Simply an expression. But don’t concern yourself about that right now.”

“Whatever the hell you are there is no way…”

“Your name is Lilly, but you do not know who you are. Let me tell you a story that I think might interest you, and then you may have a better idea why I say it is we who should fear you, and not the other way around.”

Lilly didn’t respond but just stared, continuing to hold Eretha close. The orifice that substituted for a mouth stretched upward at the corners, mimicking a smile.

“Very well then. We begin. I will tell you this story once because I believe you deserve to know why all this is happening, but afterward you will have no memory of it. I apologize in advance, but that is the way it must be.”

“What good is telling me this story that will explain everything if I’m not gonna remember any of it once you’re done telling it to me? What sense does that make?”

The creature shrugged its shoulders.

“Perhaps it makes no sense at all. You are probably right about that. Nevertheless I will tell it to you because, as I said, I am quite certain you will find it interesting.”

“I probably don’t have a choice so go ahead and tell your story then. Whatever.”

“Let’s not be dramatic. I assume you are familiar with the story of the one they call Jesus Christ?”

Lilly’s expression shifted from fear to a look that more resembled confusion.

“Jesus? Of course I’ve heard of…what is this?”

“I assumed you had, but you have to be sure about these things. But all stories need a beginning and…”

“Who are you?”

“We will get to that, child, but first I think…”

“Who. Are. You.”

The creature and Lilly regarded one another for a pause of time, a sort of standoff, before the creature uttered a hissing sound, then lashed its tongue back and forth in and out of its mouth.

“We prefer to do things in order, and this is not at all in order. But we can see you will not absorb the meaning of the story we are about to tell if we don’t answer your meaningless question, so we will make an exception. You should know this is not something we often do.”

“How can it be meaningless for me to know who you are?”

“Because it is not who one is but what one does. But you insist on placing a value on the who, so we will answer your question; we are the one they call The Creator.”

“The Creator is a giant spider?”

“Don’t be dense, child. No. We are whoever and whatever we choose to be at a particular time for whatever the occasion requires. We are not constrained in our appearance. We chose a large spider in this instance to effect terror to gain your attention. I would say we succeeded.”

“You had to terrify my family to get…nevermind. The Creator? Are you telling me you’re God?”

“NO!”

The voice became thunder, causing the entire room to shake to the point where it felt as if it might come apart. The creature’s face was contorted into a horrific mask of rage, and Lilly felt certain she and her daughter were about to be slaughtered on the spot.

But then, as quickly as the storm appeared, it dissipated and the creature appeared mournful and apologetic.

“I am sorry for the outburst. Perhaps if you allow me to tell my story without any more interruptions you will better understand everything in full. You are attempting to construct a whole picture but you only have bits and pieces, which of course means you will fail.”

There was another pause as The Creator waited for Lilly to respond. She chose not to.

“I have said you do not need to be afraid. You can take me at my word. As I have said, I am The Creator. Not at all to be confused with the other being you just mentioned. I prefer not to utter his name for reasons you need not concern yourself with. There was a time when we were of like mind, but that time disappeared eons upon eons ago and will never return.

“So I will tell you about Mary, the mother of Jesus, as you know. Jesus was the one who received all the praise and all the recognition. But Mary had another son by the name of Joseph. And when Joseph got married, he and his wife had two sons and a daughter. That daughter is your ancestor, which means you, as her descendant, carry the seed of Mary. And so does your daughter that you hold so tight. It is Mary’s seed that has the power to destroy me, just as it was her seed - not Joseph’s - that created the one you call The Savior. Perhaps now you better understand why it is not you who should be afraid.”

“But why would anyone want to destroy you. How could anyone destroy you if you’re The Creator?”

“Jealousy is not only a human trait, dear Lilly. Jealousy is the serpent with a hunger that is never sated.”

“Well then can’t you do something to stop it?”

“I’m afraid they will never stop, but I can cause a delay - perhaps a loop in time - that could become endless. But to do that…”

“To do that what?”

“Remember I told you I could not allow you to remember this conversation.”

Lilly began shaking her head.

“No. Wait…”

“I know you will not believe me but I truly am sorry for what I am about to do.”

Sensing something horrible was about to happen, Eretha looked up at her mother as they were backing away.

“Momma? Momma what’s happening?”

Lilly opened her mouth to answer, but in that moment she went mad.

“Momma?”

Back to Part 24

Table of Contents

“I’m guessing you don’t remember any of this,” said the Noctus in a calm metallic voice as it appeared beside Nathan who had been re-positioned further away from his family to a vantage point outside of the kitchen. It was hovering inches above the floor, four of its arms clasped behind its back, this time presenting itself as a singular entity rather than as a trilogy.

“And I don’t blame you. No, I don’t blame you at all. If I were a child as young as you, witnessing something as awful as this happening to your mother and sister, I believe I would wipe it from my memory as well. That is, if I were human. I consider it my good fortune not to be so cursed.”

The shrill screams of Eretha and Lilly grew louder and more desperate as the two watched the spider take its time as it crawled its expanding girth across the floor toward them. Hannibal’s mouth was open wide, a silent scream caught in his throat, as the young Nathan begged his father to do something, anything, to save his mother and sister.

Nathan the adult took two steps toward the spectacle, determined to put an end to what he could see was about to happen. But the Noctus reached out with two more of its tentacle-like arms and wrapped them firmly around his waist, then dragged him back.

“Dammit let me go! If you ain’t gonna do nothin to stop this then I will! I gotta…”

“You are a wonderful protector, Nathan. You always were. But you are also a bit of a fool, and you don’t take the necessary time to think things through. This is a perfect example of that failing. What you are witnessing, as I have tried to tell you, is an event that has already transpired. It has happened. Over and done. There is nothing you can do to reverse the past, and without my assistance you would not even be able to witness it. There is a very important point to all this. Now if you will please do your best to relax yourself. The show is nearly over.”

There was no way Nathan could relax, but he had no choice but to watch helplessly as the spider brought itself to within several feet of Lilly and Eretha, who trembled as they clutched one another tight - and then it stopped. The creature had continued to grow the entire length of its approach, reaching a size of more than five feet across in the span of a minute that felt so much more like an hour. But now the creature simply paused in front of the pair and regarded them intensely with its eight eyes, its huge fangs clearly visible as it appeared to shift its focus of attention from mother to daughter and then back again.

Then, slowly, it rose up on two of its rear legs as four of the other eight legs began to retract inside of the body, which nearly reached the ceiling when standing upright. The two remaining legs began to gradually redesign themselves into more familiar appeandages that more closely resembled human arms, although noticeably longer with thick black claws in the place of fingers. The eight black eyes remained embedded in the now more human-shaped head atop the body, but the fangs were also retracted into an orifice that somewhat resembled a human mouth although not quite. There were no lips, and a long black tongue eased its way out like a snake toward the terrified pair before the tip somehow splintered into several smaller tongues, making the tongue’s head resemble an active daisy made of dark flesh.

“What in God’s name…”

“God has nothing to do with this, I can assure you,” said the Noctus.

“Then what…?”

“This is the Creator’s doing.”

Nathan turned to look at the Noctus, his entire face a frightened question.

“But aren’t they the same? God and the Creator?”

The Noctus uttered a wet, gurgling sound of satisfaction.

“Now you are asking the right questions. Keep watching.”

Back to Part 23

On to Part 25

Table of Contents

At first, Nathan didn’t recognize the small toddler seated in the high chair playing with her food. His viewpoint was from the side, a bit to the rear, so he couldn’t get a clear picture of the infant except to tell she was a bit on the chunky side. The high chair was pulled back a ways from a small square wooden kitchen table that was pushed up against the wall, with two regular chairs placed on either side. The wall was painted a flat yellow, and a ticking plastic clock was positioned about two feet down from the ceiling. The clock had a large, smiling black spider nailed to its center, with two of its legs working to tell time by the hour and by the minute. Something about that clock…

But why was the room so quiet? The only other sound to be heard were the amused gurgles being made by the child as she played with her food.

“Where is everybody?” he mumbled to himself. “Where the hell am I?”

And with that, the room rotated his perspective until Nathan was facing directly in front of the child, who didn’t seem to notice him standing there. Much more interested in the food.

“Wait…”

Nathan felt a chill as he craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes.

“No…no...that’s…”

Just as he began to recognize a much younger Eretha, who continued to ignore her brother as if he was invisible, he heard a door close down the hall, followed by footsteps.

He turned his attention to see who was coming, but he already recognized the sound of his mother’s houseshoes against the hardwood floor before she made her appearance.

“Mom? How…?”

But Lilly didn’t see or hear him either. And she was…smiling? Nathan couldn’t ever remember his mother smiling about anything unless it was in an evil way. But here, as she reached for her daughter to lift her out of the highchair, the smile was serene and happy. He never would have believed such an expression of parental love could appear on his mother’s face if he wasn’t witnessing the unlikely spectacle for himself.

Or was he?

“What the hell is this? What the hell is going on here?” he said out loud, sensing another presence.

“You asked us to take you to your sister, and here she is!” came the voice of the Noctus, sounding drenched in reverb as if it were coming from a much larger room, and also quite obviously pleased with itself.

Neither Lilly nor Eretha appeared to notice a thing as they enjoyed each other’s company, which was something else Nathan had never seen before. This was all wrong.

“You playin tricks with me! You need to take me where Eretha is right now, not where she was once upon a time,” he yelled. “Besides, that ain’t even Eretha! I don’t know who the hell that baby is but it damned sure ain’t Eretha, and that ain’t Lilly neither!”

The Noctus chuckled, still choosing to remain out of sight.

“Then who are they? Tell us that, if you’re sure that the evidence of your own eyes is a lie. Because that is certainly your kitchen, is it not?”

Nathan felt his heart pounding inside his chest like it was trying to escape. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down until he managed to succeed. When he opened them, the Noctus was beside him, viewing the improbable happy home scenario that featured his mother laughingly toying with his little sister, showing no clue of the mother he knew her to be. Or that he remembered.

“Who are they, Nathan?”

“I don’t know who they are. I just know that you’ve done something. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but I know you’ve done something to make a lie look like it’s real. But no matter what you do you can’t lie to me about Lilly, or about me and Eretha’s childhood with that woman, because we were there, all right? We were there.”

“Hmmm. I see. Yes, memories can be powerful things, Nathan. We realize that. But as I mentioned to you before, there are memories between memories; the memories that have been lost or erased, often because of trauma. But simply because you do not know how tio retrieve these memories does not mean the events they contain never occurred. I am sure you can agree that at your age you cannot possibly remember everything that ever happened to you. But does it mean those things never happened? Or that they had no effect on you?”

Nathan knew what the Noctus was saying was true, even if that truth was protecting a lie. He was no match for this thing and he knew it.

“Now watch closely. Because something is about to happen that you do not want to miss.”

The clock’s ticking stopped. A perfect silence held the room hostage for 10 long seconds, then Lilly and Eretha watched as the smiling black spider that had faithfully kept time for the past two years ever since Lilly picked it up at the Target because she thought it was cute began to force its way out of the clock’s plastic cover as it rapidly assumed the size and shape of an actual spider that measured more than two feet across.

Lilly held Eretha close as she started to scream. Suddenly Hannibal appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, watching in disbelief and terror, squeezing his tiny son’s hand in his own and shaking his head back and forth.

“Dad!” yelled Nathan, pointing at the eight-legged creature as it dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

“Dad!”

That was just the beginning.

Back to Part 22

On to Part 24

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“Your mother. Lilly. What do you remember about her?”

Nathan sighed, squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly opened them again as he stared at the floor to shield his eyes from the Noctus as best he could.

“I don’t know how you know that woman’s name, I guess just like I don’t know how you read my mind earlier, but whatever you know I’m trying to forget. Same with my father.”

“Hannibal, I believe. That was his name, correct? Hannibal?”

Nathan nodded.

“Yes.”

“But Hannibal was never really of any concern to us. He is irrelevant. Lilly is something else. Was something else. She was part of a much grander design that has now been passed down to your sister, Eretha.”

The mention of his sister’s name forced Nathan to look up, his eyes pained and angry at the same time.

“You got my sister? You got Ree? You need to take me to her!”

“In time, Nathan. Everything in its own time. I’m sure you have come to understand even within this brief moment of our acquaintance that you are not the one in control. And you never will be again. Actually you never were, you just didn’t know it. But perhaps a discussion for another time as we get to know one another better. But all will be well. Of that I can assure you. So long as you do your part, which I am sure you will, then there is no need to worry about anything at all. You will be reunited with your sister and your sons as well. Your sister is key to the design, but you all have your roles to play.”

“Look, man, I don’t even know what you’re talking about when you say we all have these roles to play or Eretha being a key or any of that. We just regular people. I’m telling you. You talkin about some grand design that Eretha is supposed to be a key in, but Eretha ain’t part of no grand design. If she was I’m pretty sure I would know because I’m her brother, right? And we close. We had to be because…

“Because of Lilly. She was not an ideal mother?”

Nathan hissed through his teeth.

“Wherever it is you come from, you guys must specialize in understatement. Lilly was a flat out bitch who didn’t deserve to have kids and probably didn’t even deserve to live. She was horrible. Eretha and I had to raise ourselves. It’s a fuckin’ miracle we didn’t turn out to be some sorta criminals, just to survive.”

“Hmm. I see. Yes. Although on certain occasions you were indeed forced to stray, isn’t that right? Just to survive, as you say.”

Nathan’s gaze dropped back to the floor.

“Look, if you already know the whole story then why you need me to tell it to you again? Why you need me for anything? Why you need us?”

“That will become apparent as we proceed. The unfortunate truth is that you have no idea about the truth of who you are, or your sister. You have no idea why you are. But it is important that you become familiar with that truth, and that is why Mother Death has sent us here; to open your eyes. We could reveal it all in a fraction of a second, but the shock of such immediate revelation would render you useless. And if you become useless to us then that poses a problem for the design. And so we must continue. Not much longer, I promise. You say Lilly was a horrible mother.”

Nathan felt his chest begin to tighten as his temper struggled to take hold, but he already knew the Noctus were nothing to play with. Not even if they needed him, because who knew what other methods those freaks had to make him comply with their design, whatever the hell that was.

“Yeah. And that’s being charitable. Didn’t feed us half the time. Didn’t bother getting us clothes that fit so we were always getting laughed at when we went to school. Bathroom was always dirty so we couldn’t ever really get clean. Beat us when she felt like it, or when she got drunk. Which was a lot. Dad would yell at her about how wrong that was and tell her to stop, but he never got in the way. He’d just shake his head and go in the other room.”

“I see. But there are other memories of Lilly, yes?”

Nathan gave a confused look at the floor.

“What other memories are you talkin about?”

“The memories that cause you pain have overshadowed everything else, and that is not unusual for your kind. Pain is heavy. But there are other memories that have been suppressed. Memories between memories. Memories of who your mother was before her descent.”

Nathan shook his head.

“Naw. Ain’t no memory of another better Lilly because that woman is a fiction. Never existed. I was there, and I know who she was. I know because…”

Nathan never saw the long, grayish tentacle reaching out from the Noctus in the center of the trilogy, its skin slick and greasy. At the end of the tentacle was a thin, shiny black needle of an appendage that smoothly inserted itself into Nathan’s forehead.

“Memories between memories.”

Back to Part 21

On to Part 23

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The first thought that crossed Nathan’s mind, once he had finished throwing up all over his newly-scrubbed wooden floor with the stinking remains of yesterday’s spaghetti plus the tuna fish he’d had for lunch, was how could it be possible that something - some things - that looked as horrible as what was standing in front of him could have been delivered by a mother. A mother’s love was a powerful thing to be sure, which explained the phrase ‘a face that only a mother could love’, but surely any mother could have been forgiven if she opted to reach for whatever means were necessary to erase any evidence that such creatures had been delivered from her womb.

Even if that mother was death.

“Noctus…?”

“Don’t worry about what to call us for now. It’s really not that important, we just thought you should know who this was in your living room. Without invitation, as it were.”

The combination of putrid aromas emanating from Nathan’s vomit as well as the sickly sweet and somewhat metallic odors of his new houseguests the Noctus prompted him to heave once more, only this time the meager result of all that pained effort was a long rope of thick yellow fluid hanging from his bottom lip, stretching nearly to the floor. If he’d had a choice, it would have been to not take another breath, especially not through his nose. But there was no choice, which forced Nathan to slowly adjust to the all-encompassing offense of his current situation. Eventually he fell back into a seated position on the floor and forced himself to take a longer look at the trilogy of horror in front of him. He noticed the earbleeding noises that had been coming from the open door of the metal box had stopped, which made him thankful for small mercies.

“You’re welcome,” said the Noctus on the left, bowing its head slightly.

“Huh?”

“We realized the sounds were disturbing to you so we made them cease. All for you!”

Nathan opened his mouth to respond, but realized he didn’t quite know how to do that. Because how did that thing know…?

“It’s not important, Nathan. We realize it must be confusing, and perhaps a little frightening, but it is not what I would be focusing on right now if I were you.”

Nathan nodded, realizing that whatever this thing was, it was probably right.

“So you said you’ve been looking forward to this discussion for a long time. With me? Why? Who am I to you?”

“Much better. Much better indeed. And perhaps now we can begin, because the sooner we begin, the sooner all of this will end. Well, actually not quite. Perhaps I should say the sooner we begin, the sooner you will have a fuller understanding of your life as it is and what your life is about to become.”

“What my…what the fuck are you talking about what my life is about to become? My life is fine just like it is!”

Nathan realized, maybe too late, that he had let his temper get the better of him at what was probably the worst possible time. He’d already caught a glimpse of what these things could do, and that was when they weren’t even mad. Which meant raising his voice at them presented that kind of risk. But then again, Nathan was who he was.

The Noctus smiled again, and Nathan considered whether the smile may have been even worse than making this thing - or things, whatever - angry.

“Perfectly understandable. Your reaction, that is. But if you’re done then perhaps we should begin?”

Nathan closed his eyes in resignation. He nodded his head.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

Back to Part 20

On to Part 22

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Doing some quick calculations in his head, Nathan figured whoever - or whatever - was in his house probably already knew he was there. Maybe not that he was wide awake - at least not until the squeaky protest he had elicited from the floorboards - but it was likely they knew this was not an empty house. Which might explain why whatever had entered his home wasn’t bothering to chatter quietly. He reached for his ear with the hand not holding the gun and used his forefinger to rub away the trail of blood now dribbling down his cheek. It was too dark to see well, so he wiped the moisture off on his robe rather than try to inspect it.

The strange language persisted, rising and falling in volume almost hypnotically but always sharp and abrasive, each phrase or word like the high-pitched squeal of a rotary blade as it attempted to cut through a metal pipe. Another trickle of blood began to creep from his other ear, and then from both ears. As Nathan made his way into the next room, his gun now aiming in front of him, he felt a steadily increasing sharp pain inside his head that seemed to be coming from an inch or two behind his eyes. With each step he took the level of pain increased and expanded, almost by double, until he felt as if his brain was being assaulted by small knives that were steadily driving in their points deeper and deeper.

Just before he made it into the living room, Nathan dropped the gun. He fell to one knee, made an attempt to retrieve it, but then…

“Probably a better idea if you leave the gun there. It won’t do us much harm anyway. None at all, really. So why don’t you leave your toy where it is and come join us. We have been looking forward to this conversation for quite some time.”

The alien language cut off as soon as the English language began, and consequently the blood flowing from Nathan’s ears and the near unbearable pain that had been growing behind his eyes came to a stop. He decided to obey the request about not retrieving his gun, since he doubted this was a request. And because anything that had the power to make his ears bleed just by speaking its native tongue wasn’t anything he wanted to challenge. This wasn’t the streets, this was something else entirely. But one lesson he had learned well from the streets was to always know how to size up your enemy before you engage. Because if you couldn’t gauge who you were fighting then you were fighting at a disadvantage. Sometimes a serious one. But it was one thing when your enemy was a who. Once that enemy became a what? All bets were off.

“Yeah, OK. Sure. Not a problem. I ain’t makin no more moves until you tell me to. I just heard something in my house, and since don’t nobody else live here but me I’m sure you can understand why I got spooked and had to check it out.”

“We are not unfamiliar with self defense, Mr. Nathan. We respect it, in fact.”

“Good. And Nathan’s fine. Just Nathan. If that’s OK.”

“Just Nathan is fine. Please stand up, just Nathan.”

Slowly Nathan rose himself up to standing, then rolled his shoulders back and forth. His eyes remained fixed on his gun, then watched as it caught fire, melted down into a dark puddle, then disappeared into a whirling mist like a tiny tornado.

What the hell was he dealing with?

“You call this your living room, is that correct?”

“What?”

“The room you were about to enter where we are right now. This room is called your living room, correct?”

Nathan nodded, still staring at the spot on the floor where his gun had disappeared.

“Yes.”

“Fine. You were already on your way here, I believe, so please continue.”

It took Nathan several beats and a deep breath, followed by a dry, whistling exhale, before he was able to convince his legs to move him forward. Once he stepped into the living room, which looked as it were lit up by candles, what he saw snatched his breath away.

Positioned in the corner was a huge metallic-looking box that reached nearly to the ceiling. Around its circumference from top to bottom were embossed numerous odd markings and symbols, some of which appeared to be alive with movement and repeated changes of shape and design. Attached to the front of the box was a large door which opened itself wide to expose a pulsating darkness…and the same hellish sounds he had heard coming from the phone when he had tried to call Eretha.

Standing in front of the door were three perversions of flesh and design that caused Nathan to regurgitate with a force that caused him to scream in pain at the same time. One of them cocked its head to the side and twisted its facial features into a horrible mockery of a smile.

“Greetings, Nathan. We are the Noctus, and we will be your guides.”

“The what?”

“We are the three handmaidens of Death, Our Mother.”

Back to Part 19

On to Part 20

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Before the death of his wife Joan, a woman whom he had loved more than he ever thought possible, it had been the iron cord of their connection that bound the family together. It didn’t matter wherever any of them were, Nathan could always feel them, sense whether or not they were all right. That connection of love which reached beyond Nathan and Joan to embrace the twins and Eretha persisted even after she died.

Only now he couldn’t feel a thing.

But it wasn’t just the twins; he couldn’t feel Eretha either. That’s when he decided to call his sister, because maybe…

The phone stopped ringing.

“Hello?” he said, his voice cautious. “Ree? That you?”

The sound he heard wasn’t Ree. It was deep and echoing, and angry, like the forces of a windstorm trapped inside an underground cave.

“Who is this?”

Nathan felt a chill creeping over him like a sheet of ice being pulled over the blanket as he lay in bed. He hung up the phone, unable to tolerate the inhuman wails that struggled to reach out to him from whatever hell they were trapped in. He lay there in the flickering darkness, the images from a soundless television screen at the foot of his bed his only company as he stared into a space beyond the confines of his bedroom. Waiting. His breathing became slow and measured, as one who was accustomed to dealing with threats in a particular way. He had no doubt the threat he sensed was real, but there was something else. Just…something. His body tensed as his large, scarred fists clinched in anticipation, but an unfamiliar sensation of fear was scratching at the edge of his consciousness, warning him that whatever preparations for battle he might be making, they weren’t enough.

Something heavy fell over in the next room. But what was there that could have been so heavy? His mind raced through a quick inventory and found no answers, causing his heart to race. Did something actually fall, or…?

Nathan’s apartment was small, just three sparsely furnished spaces, not including the bathroom which was just a functional toilet and sink not more than five steps from where he lay. He had been on the lookout for something bigger and more comfortable, but for now this was all he could afford. For that reason he rarely entertained any company except for the twins, who dropped by fairly regular to check on their father. Less frequently, his sister Eretha, whose marriage to Simon had given her a ticket to a better life and neighborhood than how they had both come up. He didn’t blame her, even if it hurt a bit.

Something else fell with a hard thud, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Nathan eased himself up in bed to where he was sitting up straight, his back pressed against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut for three long beats before opening them again, staring into the television screen but not paying any attention to whatever was on. He took a quick breath, then reached under the mattress, his fingers reaching, groping, until they found the gun.

“OK,” he whispered to himself. “OK.”

He eased the pistol out, then brought it up and placed it into his lap. For a moment he was still unsure; despite his intimidating reputation as a punisher when he was a younger man, he had never actually had to use a gun before. His sheer size - and the brute force that came with it - tended to settle most disputes. But in this neighborhood it was still always good to have some sort of protection just in case, because he knew his massive size couldn’t always be counted on to resolve a situation, especially now that he was that much older. Pretty much everyone he knew had a gun, but he was glad that he had never been forced into a situation - or had gone looking for a situation - where he had to use it. Some of his friends weren’t so lucky.

Then came another heavy but somewhat muffled sound, like something bumping hard into one of the walls. Hard enough to make the house tremble. Nathan pulled back the sheets as quietly as he could, then swung his large legs over the side of the bed. His slippers were placed stategically to where his feet could practically slide right into them without any effort, but instead he shoved them aside with his foot. He stood up, his gun held down by his side, then took one step forward, followed by another. The floorboards creaked under his considerable weight, making him grimace.

Why didn’t I know that was gonna happen? Because I’m scared as fuck, that’s why.

That’s when he heard what sounded like voices, but it was a language unlike anything he had ever heard.

A small trickle of blood leaked from his left ear.

Back to Part 18

On to Part 20

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This time, Eretha did as she was told and followed Death. Her footsteps, after managing to stand, were halting and unsteady at first.

“Catch up, child. I don’t want you behind me, I want you beside me.”

Eretha willed herself to set aside her fear and pick up the pace until she had narrowed the distance between them; Eretha taking one measured step at a time, while Death drifted above, her form continually in flux. They traveled wordlessly for awhile with only the dry whisper of a desert wind breaking the silence. But after they had passed by the 23^rd crucified body (Eretha couldn’t help but keep count) she blurted out a question:

“Why?”

Death chuckled.

“I assume you are referring to the crucifixions?”

“Yes.”

“Just a hobby I suppose. Something I began quite some time ago. I think it had something to do with me wanting to tease The Creator, to let them know.”

“Let them know what?”

“To let them know that they never defeated me. They never defeated Death, despite how much they insist on lying to all of your mankind in that fairy tale book you have been duped into believing. Worshipping.”

The tone of Death’s voice was like the hiss of a snake, a warning, but still Eretha struggled not to argue. Even in the face of Death, she didn’t take the denigration of her Christian faith lightly. But her fear of what Death might do if she uttered any form of a challenge kept her lips sealed and her eyes focused straight ahead. She didn’t want to look at Death any more than she had to.

Death chuckled again.

“Yes, well. I know I have offended you. But as much as I might like to say I’m sorry, I’m really not. Never apologize for telling the truth I always say.”

“I see.”

“Yes. You will. And now I believe it’s time for us to get to the actual reason you’re here.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. But either way, it won’t change anything. Even The Choice will tell you that you really don’t have much choice in this particular matter. You never did, not even before you were born.”

“What are you talking about? How can I not have a choice about something before I was even born?”

“Understand, you are not only who you are after you are made flesh, Eretha. That is simply a chapter, and a very short chapter at that. Who you are is everything and everyone you were up until that chapter begins, and then you are also who and what you will become. Now about that part, the version of you that is yet to come, you may have a bit of choice. But even that depends on what you and I agree upon today.”

Eretha could feel her heart beginning to pound like a hammer. How in the world could this even be possible that she was in a negotiation with Death?

“I have to agree with you? On what?”

“It would be preferable, yes. But before we get to that, I said I would tell you why you’re here, why I chose you, and I do think you deserve that much. So here it is. We should start with the fact that there was no immaculate conception. I know you don’t want to believe that but it’s true. If Joseph were here, believe me he could testify to that. So could The Creator, but they never will because the fairy tale has worked so well making them an object of worship and all of that. They love being worshiped. That’s why they created it in the first place.

“But there was no immaculate conception.

“Nevertheless, humans like yourself believe that there was, and belief is a very, very powerful thing. Powerful enough to make you and your fellow believers accept that your only choice in life is to grow old and die, and then float away to some paradise with harps and wings where all your dead loved ones are waiting for you. This prison of belief has kept you and yours captive since you came into existence, and it has worked well for The Creator because now you think they are so wonderful. You even worship them as He, as if this is some form of high praise and honor to deify the masculine, when they could never have been confined in such a way. Why they find such warped praise amusing is beyond me, but I ceased to understand the ways of The Creator long ago. But I don’t need to understand them to understand that they are no longer who they were once upon a time. Their powers are diminishing, which I suppose is only natural after so many millenia. Since I created myself, such an affliction is no threat to me.

“But to get to the point; The Creator’s time has come to an end, yet they refuse to accept this reality, or to acknowledge it. The Choice and I, out of respect, have tried to be patient, but our patience has worn thin. It is time to take measures, and you are one of those measures, child.”

Eretha stopped walking and forced herself to look directly at the unholy formation of Death, who stared back with her awful imagination of a smile.

“You’re saying you need me to get rid of The Creator? Me? You can’t be serious. You can’t…

“Let me tell you about that woman Mary. Jesus was the one son you all knew, who got all the attention for well-known reasons, not all of them justifiable or correct. But Mary had another son; Simon. And when Simon got married, he and his wife had two sons and a daughter. That daughter is your ancestor, which means you, as her descendant, carry the seed of Mary. And it is Mary’s seed that has the power to defeat The Creator, just as it was her seed - not Joseph’s - that created the one you call The Savior.”

“But that would mean my brother…my nephews…”

“The seed can only be transferred through the feminine. And that is you, Eretha. The Choice and I need you to complete our trinity that will re-set the world’s balance to our design. A better design.”

“So then what will happen to them? Are you going to just toss them aside? And I’m still supposed to take your deal?”

“They are already on their way, and I have wonderful plans for them as well. Oh yes I do.”

Back to Part 17

On to Part 18

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But all Eretha could do was raise her arm in front of her face, as if shielding it from something too bright to be witnessed directly. Her legs refused to move.

“Oh. I see,” said Death, her tone both mocking and softly comforting at once. “I guess I should have anticipated this. I suppose if I saw myself in the mirror for the first time it might give me a bit of a start as well. I’m told the effect can be…well…I guess you know.”

“You…you’ve never seen yourself?”

“I created myself, child. From materials and forms of flesh that no longer exist. Here I’ll make a confession; I didn’t quite know what I was doing because I couldn’t see at first. I had no eyes, no ears, just…well. It really has been such a long time, and I haven’t had much reason to reflect on how I made myself come to be. Lots to do once I was done, and finding a mirror to observe the quality of my work wasn’t on that list. So let’s just say I was rather random in my self-construction.”

“I don’t think random is the word I would use.”

“Oh? And what word would you use, Eretha? Please. Give me a more fitting word for me to describe myself.”

“All I’m saying is I don’t see how you could look like…that…by accident. You don’t look random; you look terrifying. Worse, actually.”

Eretha had begun to tremble, and she still had not moved from where her body slumped in the middle of the road. The smiling sun raised a questioning eyebrow as it stared down at her, then forced itself to smile wider as the heat escalated rapidly, forcing painful moans from the crucified bodies decorating either side all the way into the horizon. The tearing, breaking sounds they made as they thrashed about trying to free themselves from the nails and knotted rope anchoring their torn flesh to a cross made Eretha grit her teeth and squeeze her eyes tight..

“Well that’s not very flattering,” said Death. “Are you sure that’s the word you want to stick with? Maybe there’s a better one.”

Beads of perspiration turned to thin rivers streaming down Eretha’s face.

“You are the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. You can’t possibly see yourself as beautiful,” said Eretha through parched lips that were beginning to crack. “Now please. The heat.”

“I can’t see myself at all, Eretha. I think we have established that. But perhaps you’re right. Being death and being beautiful at the same time is probably a bit too much to ask for. Although I’m sure you know the story about Lucifer, right? How he was the most beautiful angel before he upset The Creator and they tossed him into hell and all that? I mean, if Lucifer had the chance to be beautiful then why not Death?”

Slowly, Eretha removed her arm from in front of her eyes and forced herself to look upward at a horror that defied description. Like Simon, or what had become of him, Death’s features were impermanent and constantly in a state of flux and redesign, never fully satisfied. But those features, combinations of otherworldly flesh and bone, were far beyond the ability of even the most gifted imagination to adequately construct. Whereas Simon’s broken face still, at least with effort, bore a vague resemblance to the man he had been before, Death resembled nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.

“Oh well. They’re all just stories anyway. Written by simple-minded humans like yourself. I shouldn’t get upset about fairy tales.”

And with that, the stifling heat was gone, replaced by the cool blessing of a breeze that felt as if it had been transported from a nearby ocean, except there were still no visible bodies of water anywhere. Just the long road stretching away into the distance, populated by crucifixions of various odd designs.

“Thank you,” said Eretha, her voice just above a whisper as she finally was able to stand.

“Believe it or not, I don’t wish you harm. If I did, as I think you have seen enough evidence by now, you would know it. And now you have formed the courage to look upon me, to look upon Death herself, and yet you are still here! And you are standing on your own two feet. Well that’s something, isn’t it?”

“What is it that you want from me?”

“I’ll say it again, child; walk with me.”

Back to Part 16b

On to Part 18

Table of Contents

Eretha continued to stare into the depths of the framed horror for a long while, then emitted a deep sigh as she sat back in the chair.

“Why me? What did I ever do to deserve any of this? What did Simon ever do? We were just normal people living our lives. Whatever scheme you and The Choice have worked out to challenge the Creator and redo the world in your own images is between the two of you, isn’t it? It seems to me you certainly have more than enough power, whereas I have none at all, and neither does Simon. For God’s sake…”

“Whose?”

“You know what I mean! Why would someone as powerful as Death need someone like me to do anything?”

A near-deafening silence followed Eretha’s outburst, making her fear she had been abandoned in this room forever as punishment for her insubordination. It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed the deference The Choice gave to Death, the way a predator keeps a safe distance from another that it respects as even more dangerous. When Death spoke, she could feel a chill envelope her like a skin of ice.

But be all that as it may, Eretha Boseman couldn’t help herself. Even in the face of a supernatural and potentially life-eradicating danger, Eretha simply had to make her feelings known. That meant if speaking out and speaking up was the last thing she would ever do. As the daughter of the Rev. Thomas Boseman, one of Detroit’s most-renowned civil rights activists in a city known throughout the country as a hotbed of radical activism, Eretha had not been raised to ever keep her mouth shut when facing evil. She was raised to do the exact opposite.

“If you’re tired of me, and I know you are, then this is probably as good a place as any to abandon me, to let me die. Because I’ll neve shut up, do you hear me, Death? I will never…”

“Child, please stop being so dramatic. This room is not a stage. It is not a podium. And your only audience, beside myself, are my other wayward children whom you have already seen struggling about inside the frame on the wall. No doubt some of them were attempting to warn you, but for now they have been kept silent. Whether or not they ever speak again depends on them.”

“How does it depend on them? What can they do?”

Death chuckled.

“There’s nothing they can do really. I’m not quite sure why I said that, but it’s no matter. I want you to take a walk with me.”

“In this white room?”

“Child.”

The room melted away, revealing a dirt road that stretched far into the infinite, narrowing until it became nothing more than a black line tapering away into nothing at all. Overhead was an eggshell blue sky stamped with a smiling yellow sun that looked as if it had been drawn by an ambitious youngster. On either side of the road, reaching as far into the distance as the road itself, Eretha witnessed rows of deformed and decomposing bodies hanging from all variety of crosses; some made of wood, others steel or iron, while still others were decorated with flashing bulbs like what one might see on the Las Vegas strip.

Then she felt a grip on her shoulder from behind. Her head turned as a reflex, and Eretha saw the face of Death for the first time. She felt herself crumple into the middle of the road, like a paper bag being squeezed by an angry fist. She screamed. Death smiled.

“Walk with me.”

Back to Part 16a

On to Part 17

Table of Contents

“Step closer,” urged The Choice, sounding irritated. “She needs you to step closer.”

Eretha cut her eyes at the distorted creature standing to her left, then shook her head.

Pfffft she said, emitting a dismissive dry whistle from between her lips.

“If this woman is truly Death, and she actually has the power to transport her own eye away from her body over great distances just to evaluate someone? Or whatever this is really about, then I don’t understand why she can’t see me and do whatever she needs to do just fine from where she - or her eye - is swirling about.”

The features on Simon’s face looked frightened, but he said nothing. The Choice, however, looked enraged. But before he was allowed to put words to his anger, the eye glowed and shimmered more powerfully than before, as if conducting a powerful electric current that it was barely able to contain. Eretha felt her somewhat cocky confidence dissolve into fear as she witnessed the eye morph in and out of numerous shapes and impossible configurations in mid-air not more than ten feet away from where she was standing.

“What is it doing?” she asked weakly. “Is something wrong?”

But The Choice had already taken several cautious steps back, his mouth hanging open as a thin stream of brown drool leaked from one corner.

“I have never seen...”

That was the last thing Eretha heard before she once again felt a foreign entity seizing control of her mind, only this time there was a noticeable roughness and brutality to the action, almost like rape, as if Death desired to emphasize the fact that Eretha had no choice in the matter. Death could do whatever she wanted to whomever she wanted whenever and however she wanted; to try and establish any sort of conditions on how and when one would meet her, to assume that any form of communication with Death could be misconstrued as some form of negotiation?

No. One does not negotiate with Death. One submits.

The forest had disappeared, replaced by a scorchingly white room that was more like a room-sized white box. There was a simple white chair in the center, placed in front of a large white screen that swirled like a square frame full of lava. The effect on Eretha was hypnotic as she took several steps forward to sit in the chair and then leaned forward, squinting to get a better look at what could only be described as a phenomenon. She sat there for what felt like hours, and every so often she would see the beginnings of an anguished face struggling to take shape within the confusion; a mouth trying to form the words of a message…a warning? A pair of eyes trying desperately to make contact, only to be swallowed back into the swirl of white lava.

“What do you see?” asked a disembodied voice. The voice was noticeably feminine, but also flat and without emotion.

“Who are they?” asked Eretha, choosing to answer the question with a question of her own.

The softness of Death’s laughter was both appreciative and dry.

“I was not pleased with their evaluations.”

“Then why not let them go?”

“To where? Back to what you would call the Land of the Living? No. I prefer to keep them close. And if you are dishonest with me then I will keep you close as well. For an eternity, or until I get bored. Whichever comes first.”

“That seems cruel, doesn’t it?”

“That seems like Death, which is what I do.”

Back to Part 15

On to Part 16b

Table of Contents

“Why would Death be waiting for me? How does she even know that I’m here?” asked Eretha.

“I imagine because she knows your value. And don’t worry or be afraid. Death can be quite charming when she is of a certain mind - or when she wants something. In that way, she is quite like your kind. Very manipulative.”

“You don’t call any of what you’ve been doing manipulative?”

“Quite the contrary. It was your curiosity that lured you into the box, not any kind of force or manipulation on my part. No one shoved you through that door, or down those stairs.”

“What about Simon?”

“What about him? No one shoved him either, and did he drag you along behind him? It was love made you follow your husband, dear. Manipulation had nothing to do with it. And since you and I have had this opportunity to talk, I believe I have been quite direct about my intentions. Whether or not you approve is of no consequence; it does not amount to manipulation. And there you have it. So shall we go?”

Eretha tugged against the multi-colored tentacles that held her tight, then shrugged.

“That would be difficult.”

“Ah. You’re right. One moment.”

A moment was all it took for The Choice to exit Eretha’s mind, freeing her from the illusion of the tentacles and returning her to the portal where Simon waited anxiously. He was still seated on the rock beside the entrance, his eyes still full of pain and worry in a face that struggled to hold its shape.

“There. Is that better?”

The voice reclaimed its echoes. Eretha started to respond with something snappish, the sort of sharp, cutting comment that had always made Simon shake his head in resignation at those brief eruptions of temper. But the way Simon looked now, pleading without saying a word as someone who knew her too well, made her choose to bite her tongue.

“Somewhat,” she said. Then, “Yes. It’s better. So what do we do now?”

“I believe I already told you. Death is waiting, and she is not the patient sort as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“I didn’t even know Death was a woman. How could I possibly know she is impatient as well?”

“Fair enough. Now if you are through with the foreplay, please step through the portal so that we can begin our journey.”

Eretha looked over at Simon as he eased himself up and approached his wife. For the first time she could smell the strange scent of his breath, notice the rattling sound made by his lungs, as if something hard and brittle was caught in his throat.

“I love you, Eretha,” he said in a near whisper, without his lips moving. “Don’t ever forget that, and always keep it close. Where we’re going, very little is as it seems, and nothing stays the same for long except for Death, because this is her realm. Love will keep you centered.”

Eretha felt a pain in her heart as Simon backed away, then turned and beckoned for her to follow him through the portal.

“We have to go,” he said, and this time her ears let her know he was speaking normally. Just before he disappeared into the portal, another voice slipped into her head.

“Contrary to what Simon may believe, love will not set you free.”

Startled at first, Eretha calmed herself before she responded.

“Except that’s not what Simon said, is it? You would know that if you weren’t just guessing.”

And with that, Eretha took several quick steps to catch up with her husband and then reached out to take his hand.

The Choice didn’t look at all like what Eretha imagined when she saw him on the other side of the portal. The small, slightly deformed being who stood there awaiting her arrival reminded her of the Wizard of Oz; a booming powerful voice that masked a shrinking, insecure little man hiding behind an oversized mask. His body looked as if it had been fashioned from the root of a tree; nothing about him being quite in proportion, not straight or even, but bent and contorted into odd painful angles that almost made Eretha feel sorry for him. How could such a powerful entity that had endured practically since before the beginnings of mankind or the Earth itself be so…ugly?

“He’s marking your reaction,” came Simon’s voice. “Remember what I said; nothing is what it seems.”

“Can he hear us?” she thought.

“No,” Simon responded. “But he is good at guessing.”

Eretha kept herself from openly acknowledging the warning as Simon let go of her hand but kept his place beside her. She took careful observation of her new surroundings, which seemed both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. She was no longer inside a dark cave-like dwelling hidden inside a black box, she was outside in the open air surrounded by a lush forest populated by the sound of birds and other animals calling out with voices that she was unable to recognize. She looked upward at a sky with no trace of clouds and the blue seemed somehow off kilter and artificial in a way she couldn’t pinpoint. Then she saw - or thought she saw - something large and insect-like skitter away just to the left of her field of vision. There was a hard clicking sound as it retreated. But when she turned to get a better look there was nothing except a shimmering of light twisting about and hovering in front of her like a restless wind chime. Despite the warmth of the air, Eretha felt a deep chill.

The Choice smiled. Simon began to quiver.

“Is this...?”

“Death? No. What you see is only her eye. She is making an evaluation.”

“An evaluation of what?”

“You.”

“But I thought she already knew I was coming.”

“She does. Nevertheless, we all have our jobs to do.”

“So what if I fail the evaluation?”

The Choice’s smile stretched his face open wide like a wound torn through flesh.

“Then there will be no need for you to meet death because you will live forever.”

Back to Part 14

On to Part 16a

Table of Contents

“So you want me to help you destroy God? Is that what you’re asking? You’re a fool.”

The laughter boomed like a sonic explosion, releasing a flock of echoes that swirled like bats for a disturbingly long time and then disappeared into the void without a trace. The silence hung thick for more than a minute, and she could hear the pounding of her heart inside her head as she remained suspended amidst the swirling tentacles that wove themselves through as well as around her. And yet somehow she didn’t feel a thing.

“Who said anything about God?” asked The Choice with a trace of amusement.

“You said the Creator, so…”

This time the laughter was softer.

“So much to learn, and I am not quite sure I have the patience.”

“I didn’t ask to come here, and I certainly didn’t invite you inside my head once I arrived. My husband told me you were the one who has been waiting for me. So it seems the least you could do is have a little patience.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps. I must say that Simon was not wrong about you. You use your anger well, which is a good thing. Something I can use.”

“I would also ask that you leave Simon out of all this. Please. I’m the one you wanted, and now I’m here, so let’s just make this about you and me, OK?”

“I’m afraid no OK, my dear. It is far too late for that. This is a very complicated tapestry we are weaving, and were I to try and extricate your husband from its fabric at this stitch in time, it would destroy him. And when I say destroy, I don’t mean it would kill him, because that would be a mercy. I mean something far worse. I mean that he would live.”

Eretha closed her eyes, then took a deep breath. Against her will, a small tear leaked from the corner of her eye and dribbled down her cheek.

“Why us? What did Simon and I ever do to deserve any of this? Aren’t there less normal people you could have sucked into your box? I don’t know what we could possibly offer you.”

“Right now that is for me to know. You will understand in time. I told you that The Creator’s time must come to an end, and I am certain you and Simon will be very useful as a part of that task. You should know that I am also recruiting your two nephews, Freddy and Jason? And also your brother Nathan.”

Eretha felt as if all the air had been punched out of her lungs. Then she began to struggle viciously against the tentacles, which accommodated her rage to a point by bursting into ragged patches of smoke, leaving her to writhe and contort suspended in the middle of all this nothingness. But once her exhaustion forced her to stop, they gently enfolded her in their colorful caress, only tighter. Eretha screamed until her chest hurt, and then her head sunk in defeat. The tears flowed freely down her face.

“Why?” she whispered.

“Do not mistake my name for any type of confusion. Choice is not that, no, not at all. I am a very deliberate being, as you will come to learn and, hopefully, to appreciate. Because once we defeat The Creator, everything will be better for all of us. This includes all of your humanity in existence beyond the box, and even in worlds beyond. Your Earth is only a speck.

“But speaking of confusion, you were in the process of confusing God with The Creator.”

“No confusion. They are one and the same.”

“I am afraid not, Eretha. This is something else that you have been taught through the abomination of that book, but it is a lie. It is The Creator whose time must end because it is they who have perverted the order of things in an uncomfortable and unnecessary fashion. They call themselves protecting humankind with meddlesome lies such as convincing you Death is the only option at the end of a long and wonderful life, when even Death herself knows better. But God? God and The Creator parted ways long ago, before the creation of time. He and I actually have developed a rather useful relationship and manage to get along just fine. We have established certain rules and boundaries, which is why he has agreed to restrain his existence to another parallel dimension that is quite similar to the one with which you are familiar. But once we have all of our pieces in place to remove The Creator, my plan is to ask God to come serve by my side and to send The Creator away to take his place in that parallel dimension. He won’t be happy with that arrangement, no doubt, but he will come to accept it. Of course, it may prove somewhat difficult convincing God to agree with the arrangement I have with Death - his definition of everlasting life is a little different than ours - but I’m sure we can work all that out.”

“You’re mad,” said Eretha.

She could feel his smile beginning to bloom inside of her like a poisonous flower.

“So it’s time to meet Death. Come, she’s been waiting.”

Back to Part 13

On to Part 15

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I remember when Death was born.

There are those misguided sheep who believe it was Life who came first, but that is not true. I was there. I have always been there. And I know that Death brought herself into being long before Life in anticipation of Life’s creation. Because Death is as wise as she is cunning, and has always had an understanding of the future and how to prepare. Death knew that Life would require a counterbalance, but that if she allowed Life to exist for any length of time in advance of her arrival, then Life would have the power to set the terms of Death’s own existence - or perhaps to prevent her entrance altogether into the realm of space and time. Because then there would only be Life.

How do I know all this? Because I am the one who created Life. Yes. It’s true. Life was created by Choice. But Death? Death birthed herself, and by doing so gave herself power over the Life I had created, and indeed could have extinguished Life altogether and there would have been nothing I could have done about it.

But as I said, I remember when Death was born, which means I was here first, before both Life AND Death. And even for a creature as cold and calculating as Death, that elicited at least a small measure of respect and deference. Death was the one who helped me understand that just as light cannot exist without dark, Life cannot exist without Death.

And yet.

This is the point in the story where all of your kind seems to think the story comes to an end; humans live their lives for a period of time, and then they succumb to death. The neverending cycle - perversely understood as the circle of life by some - where choice plays no role at all. For all of mankind’s existence, you have been taught that you have no choice but to die, and therefore to live your lives as best you can because those lives inevitably come to and end.

But I AM Choice, and I know that to be a lie because of the bargain I made with Death; a bargain which we both agreed was fair and would have made for a far more interesting spectacle had it not been for the one all of you understand as The Creator. The bargain I had made with Death was that humankind would be given the choice of whether or not to accept Death’s invitation, meaning they could choose to live forever. I knew that some would be smart enough not to choose that path, but I also knew many would view eternal life as something wonderful. A blessing. But Death’s stipulation in the agreement for those who chose not to embrace her was that their decision to live forever was irreversible, no matter what multitude and measure of horrors would assault them. They could never renege on their decision and beg for the salvation of Death, but would be forced to endure all of Life’s horrors until the end of time. And no singular entity has the capacity to imagine a more unending stream of horrors than Life himself. It is perhaps what he does best, because that is how he was designed.

It would have been the perfect arrangement and the ultimate entertainment until The One Who Meddles, as I like to call them, made the decision to weigh in, calling our arrangement a trap to ensnare the weak. Which perhaps it was, but isn’t that the beauty and the purpose of traps? To whittle down the herd to only the most deserving?

But their decision was final, which was highly displeasing to Death and myself. The both of us raged against the injustice of The Creator’s decision, especially since it had been them who had assigned me the responsibility of Life, whereas Death had created herself, which meant that she was in no way obligated to abide by The Creator’s rules. But without Death’s cooperation, our agreement was through. I could not follow through with our plan alone.

I am here to tell you The Creator is not who you believe them to be. They are not the all loving, all knowing that you have been taught. There is a reason I call them The One Who Meddles, a naming which infuriates them no end, and to my neverending satisfaction. But the one unavoidable truth is that they were here before us all, and no one knows what came before - if there was a before.

And why is it that you know none of this?

It is because of that horrid book of fairytales that has led so many millions of you astray for all these hundreds of years; a book which I cannot allow myself to name. And - I must tell you this - because your kind was born blind and lost in a darkness not unlike what you have experienced inside this box, it was a simple trick perpetrated by The Creator’s own illusion to convince humankind that there was a singular all-powerful deity who created you, who loved you, and who was all alone the most powerful and all knowing creature in the entire universe.

Themselves.

That is a lie, Eretha. Perhaps the greatest and most effective lie ever told. Which is why the time has finally come for that lie to be destroyed and buried for all time.

And I need your help.

I know you to be someone who has always sought the truth, who has little patience for lies and deceptions. You do not tolerate those who would mislead innocent people down the wrong path. Like so many of your brethren, you have come to believe that this book and its author are your protection against such things. But this book and all that it has wrought is, in truth, precisely the wrong path that it claims to protect you from. Why would you trust a snake to protect you from its venom?

The Creator has had their time. Now it is time for The Choice to set things right.

Back to Part 12

On to Part 14

Table of Contents

“So you’re saying there’s really no choice at all then, right, Simon? That death is all some sort of trick, and that the Choice is pulling the strings behind the scenes? So are they partners or what? Death and the Choice? Is this their idea of fun making us think we have options we really don’t have about life and death?”

For most of her descent into the box, following Simon down a seemingly neverending length of stairs, Eretha’s primary emotion had been fear. The darkness, the odd smells, the echoes and groans, all kept her sanity on perpetual alert. Her love of Simon, and a desperately irrational belief she could have him back as he once was, had been the only force strong enough to enable her careful navigation beyond those fears.

But now she stood not far from him as he sat mournfully on a large rock beside the portal, the shifting features of his face now raised from his hands to give her a questioning look etched in pain.

“You have brought her this far, Simon, and you have done well. But perhaps I should be the one to answer that question.”

The voice, which reached out from the portal, was quiet and deep. Almost soothing. And yet it possessed an unnerving power; the power of something that knew it didn’t need to prove itself to anyone or anything. It was ageless - and definitely not human.

“Are you the Choice?” asked Simona.

“I am.”

“And yet you’re not a choice. So what are you really? And why is my husband so afraid of you?”

The laughter that followed somehow managed to sound gentle and menacing at the same time.

“Are you afraid, Simon? I was not aware.”

Simon shook his head.

“I’m not afraid. Only grateful.”

Simon’s voice was just above a whisper.

“Ahhhhhhh.”

“Grateful for what, Simon?” asked Eretha, her anger managing to keep the fear at bay.

“As I said, perhaps I am the one who can better answer your questions. After all, your questions are about me, correct?”

“I suppose so.”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

This time the voice was noticeably colder and more clipped.

“Simon? If you could please escort our guest through the portal where I believe we will all be more comfortable.”

“What makes you think all of us will be more comfortable on the other side of that door?” asked Eretha. “I told Simon I have come as far as I plan to go until I get some answers. I don’t know you to trust you, and we can both see Simon isn’t who he once was, thanks, I believe, to you. So maybe we can stay on this side for awhile longer and you explain to me…”

“Explain to you who and what I am? Why Simon is here? The meaning of life?”

“I’m not sure you’re the one I would ask about the meaning of life. Just who you are and what you have done to Simon.”

The laughter came again, this time infused with considerably more amusement.

“Why not, Eretha? But I’m sure you’re familiar with that phrase, ‘be careful what you ask for’.”

“What…”

And then she was surrounded by thick tentacles of multi-colored smoke, writhing and weaving in slow-motion like large snakes engaged in some strange form of dance. The darkness inside the box, the portal, and Simon had all disappeared. Eretha could feel the fear once again displacing the anger inside her at a rapid rate.

“Where am I?” she whispered, as she looked downward to see that she was suspended in mid-air - if this was air at all.

Soon the familiar smell of cinnamon returned, followed by what sounded like a wind blowing through a large seashell.

“Where am I?” Eretha asked again, this time louder.

The laughter returned in waves of echo, followed by the voice, which was wrapped in mockery.

“You demanded the answer to my existence. I could have simply told you the story as we took a stroll on the other side of the portal, which is what I had actually planned to do all along. But I agree, that probably would have been more boring than the answer I plan to provide right now. Because to tell you a thing can never quite match the power of showing you a thing, don’t you think? And just as you were inside the box - and actually still are - I am now inside of you. Where you can experience this wonderful tale so much better! Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”

Back to Part 11

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