The Narrative of Victor Chaldeon
The Second Notebook
Continued
V
Running down the basement stairs, I heard the clanging of metal striking metal, wondering what in the world some prowler could want down there. My basement was basically a graveyard for all the stupid things you buy that seem right at the time but, after they have gone unused and are covered with dust anyway, get moved down into the subterranean vault of capitalism and its too many choices. It was all junk, and there wasn’t much down there that was locked, so what the hell was that banging all about? I followed the noise as I descended into the darkness.
For months, I had craved only one thing—the truth. I had committed myself to the nut house, signed my mind and body over to Strather, waiving all human rights, overdosed on a drug I knew nothing about and, perhaps most importantly of all, surrendered to the gray areas and decided to throw all rationality aside, all in the name of truth, to find out what happened to my mysteriously vanished and presumed dead wife. And when I descended into the madness that was about to transpire in the basement I finally found that truth. I am about to describe what occurred when I reached the basement floor. Nothing has been added, deleted or embroidered. Just the facts, as fantastic as they may seem, but remember, you were warned from the onset that you may simply deem me mad once you have read this to the end.
When I reached the foot of the stairs and scanned the basement with my flashlight, I heard a gasping for air and distant whispers as the clanging of metal ceased. Following the voices, I shined my light on the scene in one corner of the room.
Confusion flooded through me. Strather and Amanda were kneeling on the floor. Rats scurried. What was this they were crouched in front of? The old freezer? Why? That old thing stopped working worth a damn long ago. I put the lock on it when Amanda was young enough that I had to worry about her or some friend playing in it and suffocating. I hadn’t thought of it for years. It was rusted and useless, like so many things down here. Nothing made sense yet.
“Daddy? Oh, no. NO!” Amanda cried.
“I . . . I . . .” stuttered the doctor. “You . . . you have to believe me. I only found out the truth myself tonight. She . . . she repressed it. I gave her a truth serum.”
I had approached them very slowly as he spoke, my jaw slackened, trying to make some sense of it all. As her weasel of a husband prattled on, looking like he could shit his pants any moment, Amanda just sat there, shaking her head, shivering, not even noticing the rats racing around both of them in the dim illumination of the flashlight.
“Why are you here?” I asked them.
“It was an accident,” Strather answered. “They argued. It got ugly. Rita hated me. Amanda loved me. She pushed her, but she didn’t mean to—“
“I asked you, what the fuck you’re doing down here. Here. Why here? Why down here?” Realizing I sounded like a babbling idiot, I asserted myself. “Answer me!”
As I yelled at him and watched my daughter slowly retreat into a fetal position that seemed to say “don’t ask me, I am checking out now,” it started to become clearer. The hauntings—dreaming of Rita in a cold dark place—the high pitched whirring sounds of machinery--—“Amanda is a monster in my dreams,” Rita had said. I felt as though all my denial was subsiding and I was solving this mystery, but my body was revolting against the obvious conclusions of my logical mind. Feeling very faint, I was swallowing bile, trying hard not to puke.
I was directly above the doomed couple now as I asked the one question I was dreading. “What were you doing when I interrupted you? What the hell is—in there?” I asked, pointing to the freezer.
The doctor was silent, looking like a man in fear for his life.
“Open it,” I said, taking his flashlight from him, then shining both beams on them like some detective in an interrogation room. “Open that damn thing now.”
I stood and watched him pound away at the lock, my heart racing in anticipation. My legs felt like they would give out any moment, but I stood firm, holding the flashlights as steady as possible under the circumstances. My rational mind had put it all together, of course. I wasn’t a dimwit. Intentionally or not, in the heat of an argument, my only child had murdered my wife. But the strong wall inside us all known as denial refused to believe it without proof, and I came closer to that, like it or not, with each clang of hammer and crowbar against the lock on the freezer. Didn’t Amanda have the key, for Christ’s sake? Then I looked at the simpering mess of a girl that was once my daughter and was reminded that it could take years to get a simple answer out of her. She was gone—nearly catatonic and murmuring the whole time, but her words were drowned out by the clanging metal echoing throughout the basement.
When all hell broke loose moments later in that basement, it is hard to recount exactly what must have happened elsewhere, at the Center, in ShinnehSirrah or God knows where those vile creatures came from, that may have made it all possible, but I do know without a doubt that the moment the freezer was opened, a figure rose from within that is forever etched in my memory.
Yes, my deranged daughter had chosen to hide her crime by burying Rita’s corpse in that freezer. In her madness, she had decided to plug the freezer back in, and I can only assume that helped the stench of death from rising while I still lived above this makeshift tomb. That was probably why the initial haunting by Rita included that mechanical sound—she was trying to tell me where she was, and all the while I was living right above her.
But then the freezer was shut down when I turned off the power to check myself into the mental hospital. Then all Rita’s soul or spirit knew was the incredible darkness and silence of the freezer in the basement.
Until the moment the lid popped open.
The corpse that stood reanimated before us vaguely resembled Rita, but its hair had grown wild and flailed about and its fingernails were grotesquely long and gnarled. On the inside of the freezer’s lid were long bloody scratches, as though she had tried in vain to claw her way out. Was she still alive, then, when she was placed in this box?
Flesh still hung loosely upon her frame, but she was largely a skeleton, one eye was gone and the other dangled hopelessly in the air. The scent of death attracted the rats and they climbed all over the infernal visage of clacking bones and dangling flesh. The corpse’s knees were twisted from the stuffing of her into the box—how did Amanda get the strength and will to do such a thing?— but it was still able to climb out of the freezer and stand before the three of us.
The revolting zombie that was once named Rita roared in triumph and I knew that someone or something else was in control of it. “Yes!” it cried out, in a raspy masculine voice. “Have your vengeance and we will have our portal!”
VI
Strather and I were frozen in place, watching this impossible resurrection transpire. He stayed seated on the floor and my hands went limp. I was able to catch one of the flashlights but the other one fell to the floor, its beam revealing my daughter crawling towards me, murmuring like a baby. Rita’s skeletal mouth screamed and then she cried out, this time in her own voice: “trapped all this time, by you, you bitch! I will have my revenge!”
“No!” I yelled, instinctively I suppose, playing the role of protective father, even though I considered the woman Amanda had become lost to me. “It was an accident!”
“Victor! How can you say that? You have been through hell as well because of this monster we raised.”
Amanda reached me and grabbed onto my ankles, still babbling incoherently. Then, her fool of a husband chose that moment to rise from the floor, and meet Rita eye to eye.
“You,” she said, and then hissed like a snake. “You’re the one to blame for it all.” Her hands wrapped around his throat and their elongated nails dug into his flesh like talons. Maniacal laughter filled the basement, once more from Rita’s mouth, though the voice was not her own.
“Yes, that’s it,” came the other voice from her mouth again. “Rage. Emotion out of control. What we need.”
As Rita continued strangling Strather, her chest was blown apart, as though someone had fired a shotgun from behind her, but instead of exposing blood and gore, the hole in her body opened a vacuum of space on the other side. Then, in the most infinitesimal flicker of time, the basement was flooded with a brilliant amber light shooting out of that hole in her body. The light wrapped around Strather and, an instant later, filled every corner of the basement. I looked on in astonishment, but also in fearful understanding. The creatures that had invaded Shinneh-Sirrah were using Rita’s body as a portal to cross over to our dimension.
Then, I saw Them again, formless masses of gelatinous ooze poured through the portal and, upon reaching the floor, formed various slithering disgusting shapes. Some of them had several mucous covered eyeballs that glared at me in triumph as they crossed over. In my awe and disbelief, my hand went limp, and the second flashlight fell to the floor. But that did not matter, for there was now more than enough light on the scene.
“Victor!” said a voice from the other side of the portal. It was Lance! “I am trying to stop them, but this doorway is strong. So much more powerful than when I died and brought some of them through. I need your help.”
Rita had Strather suspended in the air. He choked and writhed in her clutches and was turning blue. I didn’t have much time.
“It’s Rita!” Lance said, and then he was cut off, screaming on the other side. “These bastards have fully possessed her over here. She is no longer in control of—“ But he was stopped short again and screamed even louder. Death had brought no more peace for Lance than it had for Rita.
I knew it was up to me. I had to think of something fast, or They would have Their way. I had promised Lance and Rita I would do whatever was necessary.
Amanda still held onto my legs, but I managed to pry her loose and I approached the creature before me that only vaguely resembled my dead wife. “Rita. Let go,” I said, sternly.
The monster just laughed and retorted: “Rita is not here. You are talking to me now.” But, as though it was more curious about me then finishing off Strather, it released its grip and the doctor fell to the floor with a thud. I heard a cracking sound as though his head had broken the fall.
“And who the fuck are you, anyway?” I shouted at it, careful to remember what Lance said about emotions. I was pretending to be angrier than I could actually allow myself to become.
“Your race is ridiculous,” It continued. I tried not to laugh at this comment. We’re ridiculous? This thing that had taken over Rita’s body had yellow light and slime coming out of its chest cavity and we were ridiculous? “Always needing to name something. Call me Legion, for lack of a better name. That’s worked so far.”
I remembered the name, catching the hokey Biblical reference. “So you fancy yourself the Devil? Is that it?”
“Talk all you want, you miserable excuse for a life form. We are coming through. Your bitch wife is here with us, gladly helping us along.”
“I don’t think so!” I was yelling again, but in control. I did have a plan, and if it didn’t work, I was fresh out, but I had to try. “She is more like a prisoner, I believe. Why not let her rest in peace?”
Predictably, my suggestion was met with more of Legion’s insane cackling. Then, I swallowed hard and, throwing caution to the wind, much calmer now, I said: “take me.”
That suggestion seemed to stop time. The thing stopped laughing and looked at me intently with Rita’s one good eye. For a moment, the beings no longer oozed from the portal either. I had Legion’s attention.
“Let her go and you can have a living being to dwell in over here. Really enjoy the flesh.”
There was a pause of total silence, not even Amanda made a sound in what seemed an eternity. Then, Rita’s corpse fell lifeless to the ground and the basement fell into total darkness.
I was breathing heavily and broke out in a cold sweat. Then I realized my emotions were completely out of control. That fact, coupled with my open invitation, was all Legion needed. An instant later I felt it—a sensation throughout my body of something invading me, taking control. It was as if “I, me, myself” was trapped inside of the body I inhabited and now Legion was in the foreground.
I heard Its thoughts, a voice within me whispering: “thank you. Yes. I named myself Legion but that was deceitful I will now confess.” It laughed in self-congratulatory pleasure. “I do not care about the collective. With a powerful body I can open and close this portal at will. I will be in charge. Rest now, for you are mine. You need not do a thing.”
The voice was hypnotic and seductive. Even though I stood there in the darkness, I felt as out of touch with my body as I had when I crossed over to Shinneh-Sirrah. I knew I would lose this bargain unless I acted quickly and decisively. It was merely a battle of wills now, to see whose was stronger, mine or Legion’s, and I was ready to attempt the last part of my plan. I reached into my pants pocket, carefully, hoping Legion could not discern my intentions, and then, cursing myself, I remembered the object I was groping for, the vial of the drug, was upstairs in my jacket, not down there with me!
I felt my body jerk and then Legion’s voice came back: “what are you doing?”
I dropped my hands to my side and tried to clear my mind.
“You are offering some form of resistance!” the voice grew louder and more powerful within me. “You are powerless. You chose this.” As it spoke, I felt a phantom hand or claw choking me. “I may no longer possess your dear departed wife, you vermin, but I left her in capable hands.” Legion cackled again. “Oh, yes, they will have their fun with her.”
Despite knowing it was exactly the response Legion hoped for, I became consumed by rage at those last words It spoke. Not knowing whether it was the truth or another lie did not change a thing. In the darkness, I bolted, groping for the stairs, tripping over all kinds of useless items and Amanda’s silent limp body. I ran up the stairs, two at a time, making one last attempt to assert my will. Legion made his presence known, and I felt as though I was dragging a hundred pound weight with me. I still did not think Legion knew what I had planned, but, fueled by all my anger, It howled a blue streak of profanity at me, and made threats against me and Rita It would carry out if I didn’t stop resisting.
Upstairs, there was enough moonlight shining through the windows to make the living room easier to navigate. I found my jacket and produced the vial. With all the will I could muster, ignoring anything else the bastard inside had to say, I downed the entire contents of the vial in one gulp. An instant later, the living room was empty and I crossed over to Shinneh-Sirrah.
VII
Once I reached the other side of the portal, all my mind heard was Legion screaming in horror. It fought for control of my body, and I was jerking and tumbling about in the air, as though in a boxing match with myself. Inside my mind, Legion howled “NO! NO! NO! Wretched creature!” followed by another long string of profanity and alien words I assumed amounted to about the same level of abuse in Its own language.
I knew there was little time to act. I drew in a breath of air and with all my might concentrated on one thought, getting rid of Legion for good. I shouted out one clear message in that moment of my complete assertion of will: “GET THE FUCK OOOOUUUUUT!” And with that exclamation I released all the air and energy from my body, as though vomiting every last vestige of life force I had within me. Initially, It put up a good fight--I felt claws grasping me all over, fighting to stay in control—but eventually I could see that I had won, and Legion was ejected from me. Flailing about, grasping for something solid to attach itself to, I saw Legion in Its Shinneh-Sirrah form, a grotesque tentacled mass of gelatinous ooze, dissipating and spreading out, the environment on this side of the portal undoing who knew how many days, months, centuries of effort on Its part to take that form.
It was over.
Or at least that particular battle was over.
Looking around, I remembered where I was, and I had the distinct feeling I was completely here, that my body was not in the living room. It was impossible to know how many times more of a dose this was than what had been administered at the center—ten, a hundred, more? In that moment, I resigned to the definite possibility I had given up my life in this effort.
“Victor!” I heard Lance’s voice again. Following the sound, I saw him below and floated down to meet him. I had never been so in control of my movements over here, which reaffirmed the likelihood that my life on the other side may be over.
“Lance,” I said as I reached him. “do you know where Rita is?”
“Not for sure. But when the portal closed, Legion’s goons released her and she vanished. I think she’s gone.”
“So the bastard was lying. She is at rest finally.”
“Pretty stupid stunt you pulled.”
“Seems to have worked,” I said, and then realized I was smiling for the first time in a long while. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
We both laughed, and then Lance grew serious again. “I’m blocking the portal right now. If I move, it will be open. Once Legion left you, he tried to close it, so he could control its use. It was closed briefly, but the other creatures managed to reopen it, though it is much smaller.” It sounded strange for Lance to call Legion “he”—the thought of that thing having a gender or any form of humanity never occurred to me. “I want you to go back, and I will stay here. I will guard this portal and monitor these creatures. See what I can find out. I’ll see if we can send you back now, but only if you remember your pledge that night Rita and I visited you in the cemetery.”
“Of course. I will do everything in my power. If I have to dismantle the center brick by brick and kill Strather myself, if he’s still alive, so be it. Whatever it takes. I swear.”
“There’s Tom to deal with too, and the rest of the drug.”
“Of course. I swear. You know as well as I do, Lance, the point of no return for me was passed long ago. I know for sure none of this was a dream, or a nightmare, and my life is never going to be the same anyway. Of course I want to mop this up. For all I know, I have two dead bodies over there for starters.”
Lance nodded, and then stepped aside to reveal the portal. It was still there but barely large enough for a human to pass through.
“Hurry!” he said. “They’re back already.” he nodded behind me and I turned. Sure enough, the persistent bastards were back, hurling their vile forms toward me. I nodded in understanding and stuck my head in the portal. Lance gave me a shove and I was ejected to the other side, right back into my cold and smelly basement, illuminated again with amber light. I rose to my feet and the portal was sealed. The last thing I heard from over there was Lance’s screaming, and even that faded quickly.
I was greatly fatigued as though I had the flu or a bout of pneumonia worse than any I had ever experienced. Nausea flooded me and I vomited, and in my delirium I noticed the vomit was largely an amber gelatin, remnants of the other side.
Then I passed out.
End of the Second Notebook
(While the third notebook ends, as you will see, rather abruptly, it speaks for itself. I have nothing to add except to say Victor is still missing as of the publication of this work—AC)