The Portal - XV

Part 1

Thomas crept through the shadows of the large house attempting to keep quiet but he was never one for subtlety. With two left feet and the aftermath of years of Tourette’s his nerves never seemed to fire the way he wanted them to. He heard the sound of feet progressing up the hall to his right. Then he heard two distinct sets of feet moving away from one another.

                James was walking? Thomas thought to himself. He moved towards a door and peeked out the crack. He saw the back of James as he went up the hallway and through a set of doors. Hearing that the other person, Reginald, had moved away, Thomas vacated the room he had slithered into to get closer to the room. He put a hand in his pocket and reached for the paper. He had practiced the words, the words that according to the paper would expel the entity from a vessel and into another on his trip down to London. He was close at hand to the doorway, the words fresh on his lips to speak when he felt it.

                A strong hand grasped him by the shoulder and wrenched him into another room. Before he could blink before he could cry out in alarm the first were upon him. He was punched in the face, in the gut, in the chest. Over and over again. HE felt his teeth break along with his jaw. He felt the hot blood fill his mouth and consciousness waning from the savage beating. Through tearstained eyes and blood he could see the towering form of Reginald. The larger man picked him up and brought him into the room where the others waited. Two girls, James, and another man. Reginald slumped him into a chair and spoke. Thomas’ ears were still ringing and all sound was muffled to him. The aching pain pulsed through his whole body and he just wanted to die right there. His head throbbed, his mouth was on fire with pain and he tried to speak but his jaw felt unhinged. To come all this way to be broken at the finish line. Yet he had made it to the final step. In his hand he retrieved the paper willing his body to work just for a few more moments until he could pass out from the pain. through the darkening room he saw the paper in his shaking hand and knew this was his only chance. With a bloody finger he drew a symbol on the chair and placed his hand upon it. With all the strength he could muster to speak through his broken mouth he uttered the words he had been practicing. Willing them to escape his mouth. Once the gurgled sound left his throat he slumped over from the pain and was lost to the abyss of darkness.  

Consumed by utter darkness James felt for anything that could make him stronger. He stood as a boy before his weeping parents and yearned for his mouth to work. He wished more than anything to have control again, to have the power to speak before them to confess his sins and relieve himself of his burdens. The stress and anxiety of a life of lies weighed upon his soul like a boulder of doubts. He had killed his brother and let his parents believe he simply died in the night for his entire life. Now he had to make good on his friendship with his brother. He had to tell the truth.

                “I did it!” James screamed shattering the silence that enveloped him. His parents turned to him in horror. His mother clutched a fist to her mouth as she shook her head. And his father almost fainted.

                “I did it!” James cried again. And with that second admonition, louder and with more force he felt the room shift.

                “I’m so sorry Ian. I did it!” James stood wiping his tears and yelled again. He felt the dream evaporate as he returned to the room in his head filled with darkness.

                “I can’t take it back. I did it. I killed him. Not Cillian. It was me. I killed my brother.” James said wading through the darkness trying to peer through the windows of his mind. Outside he saw a man being strangled by his hands.

                “I won’t kill again. I won’t let you. I won’t.” With a surge of anger and sadness James broke the window and the light came pouring in. The shadow squealed in agony as James retook control of his body. He blinked and let go of the man who slumped at his feet. James fell back almost toppling over the chairs in the room. He had regained control, but he felt something stirring in his head like worms burrowing into dirt. Around the room he saw Thomas, a patient from the sanitarium. He saw the bodies of two little girls, and he saw the man he had almost strangled reaching for a book.

                “Stop.” James said lightly losing the fury he had for the shadow.

                “I have to finish. I have time now. Thank you for saving me. But this isn’t over.” With that the man slammed his hand down on a symbol on the floor the glowing runes about them started to pulse and James felt that he was frozen.

                “What are you doing?!” James screamed.

                “Claiming what is mine.” The man stood holding a dagger ready to plunge it into James’ chest. He crept closer but James noticed a stirring from behind the man. Reginald burst forth into the room throwing the man off guard long enough to bridge the gap between them. He had a sick smile painted on his face as the grasped the man’s arm holding the blade. The air in the room began to swirl as Reginald’s eyes grew dark.

                “Not so fast, doctor.”

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