The Portal - XIII

Part 1

On the day of his birth James McMahon was greeted by two loving parents that would lay down to give him the world. He wanted for nothing and was held in high regard to his family. For the following four years he would live and learn and grow with his family and wait expectantly for the inclusion of his new baby brother. When Ian McMahon was born into the world he was met with the same love and care that was bore his older brother James but quickly the family found that Ian was different. Years would pass for the brothers, locked in a bond so strong no strife or storm could destroy it. Until James saw the pain in his parents’ eyes at Ian, the pain he saw in Ian’s eyes from his condition. James, being a compassionate, loving brother, wanted to help. He wanted to help ease the suffering of his brother, his best friend, and to give his brother relief. So one night he stole away to his brothers room, and released him from his suffering. His family would never find out that he was the one responsible and for his sake, he wouldn’t know either. For Cillian was the one in control when it all happened.

                Cillian, now standing by James as he wept quietly in the corner of his mind, whispered to him. James had been stuck inside his own head as things feel apart around him. It all started because he wanted to help his brother but it morphed into something grotesque and abhorrent even to him. But he knew that he wasn’t innocent in all this. He recalled the boys in the sanitarium that he gave his compassion. All told he ended the suffering of twenty five patients over five years. The first inklings were similar to the situation with Ian. He saw them in pain and wished them well, releasing them from their suffered existence. Cillian, being the one to take the reigns when the deed need be done, with James emerging once it was complete. However, as time passed James seeded less and less time to Cillian and he started taking their lives himself.

                James wondered, sitting there in the fetal position if this serious of events he was in was recompense for the lives he saved. The lives he took. Cillian would tell him, reassure him that his deeds were righteous that he was helping but a small part of James knew he was in the wrong. Taking a life, no matter the level of degradation was wrong. At one point he did feel like he was doing the right thing and wasn’t haunted by it but now with this shadow standing before him he felt a sick feeling of dread in his stomach. That he would soon follow in the footsteps of those he killed.

                Regaining his strength he moved towards the window of his mind to see out into the real world. Still in the chair he was pushed towards a set of stairs. Reginald was in sight and picked up James’ body to transfer it up the stairs and into the house. Once inside the shadow behind him, having stayed rather still and quiet for hours, finally moved. It began to shimmer and pulse. The motion caused James to fall away from the window and crawl towards his old hiding place. Cillian grabbed him and picked him up to witness what was happening. The shadow stretched it self and send tentacles of shade to the corners of James’ mind. The color that was once present was being drained as the shadow took control of the vessel. James stared as a tentacle jumped towards him. In a rush he pushed Cillian in the way to protect himself. Cillian, run through by the sharp limb, turned a teary eye towards James.

                “How could you do this to me? With all I’ve done for you? All the blood on my hands, and this is how you treat me? You ungrateful, simple minded, fool!” Cillian’s voice rose in intensity as he screamed at James who cowered away into the darkness. Cillian’s form was being drained as well. The shadow grew in size as it sucked the life from all around it. James closed his eyes again and was back home. He was in the fetal position in his brother’s room crying. His mother called for him but he didn’t answer. When she showed up she first saw James on the floor then drew her attention to Ian on the bed, unmoving. She gasped and ran from the room to call for her husband. With the two adults in the room James noticed their attention on Ian and none was given to him. This was the way Ian was found so many years ago. James remembered that they thought he had found Ian first and was simply weeping from the loss. They never suspected him then and they don’t suspect him now. He had to say something. He had to confess, even if it was only a dream he had to confess his sin to his parents now, to lift this weight form his soul.

                James wiped his face and stood looking at his parents. They gave him no attention but he mustered up his strength to speak. He had to, he knew this meant more than just reconciling his past, it was important for another reason. Something bigger, something more present. His voice failed him at first but he continued to try. To force the words to emerge from his mouth. He had to try. He had to.

Elsewhere in the living world, outside of dreams, James’ body came to and began to walk on its own. The shadow had overtaken the vessel and was now walking of its own accord leaving Reginald in the hall as it advanced. Reginald smirked and took a step away letting the vessel leave him behind. He had his own machinations to finish.  

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