Gregory
hadn't moved from the underpass all day. His urine soaked trousers
slid against the cold tiled floor but the Voice refused to let him
move. The Voice had been with him such a long time, it left him alone
sometimes for weeks or months and he almost felt normal again, but
when it spoke- the Voice was not just in his mind but is in his now
wrecked body, jerking him like a strange puppet.
At
first he had fought it, when one night he had drunkenly fell asleep
on a grassed round-about. He had been young then, a promising student
out with the boys. After that fateful fitful nightmare filled sleep
he had woken changed.
He
heard the Voice and it pained him to refuse it, but he had fought.
A
sly smile spread across his cracked dry lips. He no longer cared
about the cold, or the discomfort. His joints were swollen from the
alcohol he drank to quieten the Voice enough to let him sleep for a
night here or there but it didn't work as well as it used to.
The
Voice had given him things, he saw the world differently. He could
see lights and shimmering shades of colours around them. Most looked
the same, maybe with black spots on them or parasites only he could
see, like giant ticks or elongated cockroaches hanging from peoples
unaware flesh.
The
Voice had shown him the pattern, he must remember the pattern. His
body jerked suddenly in a flash of pain as the colour and pattern was
forced into his memory. It always hurt so badly, but it was so
beautiful. A shifting ripple of rainbows and iridescence like a
tear-drop or flame.
The
Voice had given him this beautiful memory not of his own mind, but it
did not temper the hate he felt towards it.
The
underpass lights twitched and flickered. Something like a bird made
of shadows flew pass over the heads of the regular people. How blind
they were, how irritatingly hurtfully blind they were. Gregory envied
and loathed them for it.
A
breeze blew up and caught some leaves scurrying them into the
underpass, They danced around him and for a moment he was transfixed
and delighted.
“What
am I?”
He
asked to the wind. The wind did not answer.
He
started to cough. It started slowly a wheezing choke growing ever
stronger until the rattling moistness of his own lungs echoed in the
now empty underpass.
For
a moment all was peaceful and he was just a man again. The hold over
him was growing weaker somehow. He could remember his family, what
had happened to them he wondered. His childhood friends, and then he
remembered Debbie.
Her
dark hair and wild eyes had drawn him when he had been placed in
hospital for a few months.
The
ward had been crowded and nobody seemed to know what to do with
Gregory. No medication seemed to work, no family had come forward.
His health problems were evident, but he was just a rambling homeless
man. Alcohol psychosis and delusional schizophrenia. He had taken his
meds quiet as a lamb, and had enjoyed the bed and the warm bath well
enough.
One
day in the day-room with it's sharp objects and mismatched chairs had
come Debbie like a whirling wind. She was having a fight with a male
nurse that all the patience knew like to touch the girls but the
staff ever listened about. She had broken his nose and the scarlet
rose had exploded on his face.
The
nurse swore and the torrent of accurate abuse flowed from her mouth.
Some of the other patiences especially the women howled in pleasure
and gratification. Gregory could see she was ablaze literally, her
real shape was like a flame. The other staff had now come over and
begun to circle Debbie like a pack of Hyena. Someone lunged and stuck
Debbie with something and she fell. She fell slowly and with a grace
that mesmerised Gregory. Turning as she fell she looked into his eyes
just before she became unconscious, and a spark of recognition jumped
between them.
Gregory
stood up slowly as the staff began to carry her away and picked up a
plastic chair and began to beat them with it. The new assault from
“harmless Gregory” shocked the nurses and two went flying, the
guy with the broken nose tried to strike him, then in a wavering
voice tried to reason with Gregory.
“We
not trying to hurt you now Gregory, put the chair down. No-ones going
to hurt you. Everyone is okay.”
Gregory
tilted his head and smiled passively. He put down the chair, at which
point the nurse made a grab for him. He batted him away easily. The
Voice had given him so much strength.
“You
are evil Mark. You hurt them, the girls. You are going to die soon.”
Gregory
then picked up Debbie and carried her to her room. The whole room
whooping and cheering as he the hero carried the damsel in distress
to her room. He lay he down gently on her bed and sat holding her
hand.
When
the doctors had finally turned up, they had ushered Gregory into his
own room.
The
male nurse, Mark had never returned to the ward. Too many people had
witnessed too much for them to sweep it under the carpet again.
Gregory
had rescued her, and the other women in the ward and they knew it. He
had told the doctors what had happened and they looked at each other
nervously.
Everything
went back to normal but everything was different. Some of the girls
made him flowers, or gave him their pudding. Debbie did something
different she just sat near him when ever she could. The staff didn't
like it and discouraged them from speaking to each other but they did
it anyway.
They
didn't get much chance to talk about things but Gregory noticed she
noticed the same things he did. The ticks and shadows the birds and
animals others couldn't see, made her turn her head also.
He
tried once to ask if she heard the Voice, but he began to twitch
violently. The fit subsided but he got the idea that speaking to her
was something the Voice disapproved of.
In
the high heat of summer some of the ward were allowed to go into the
garden and Debbie and Gregory went together to sit on the grass.
“Come
on then.” She said jumping up.
Gregory
looked confused.
“Time
to go, now Gregory.”
He
smiled and arm in arm they slowly walked towards some tall trees.
Behind them was a sports bag and Debbie crouched down and opened it.
It had clothes in it, a set for each of them and a pair of scissors.
She took his arm and cut off the medical bracelet and gave him the
scissors to cut off her own. She took off her clothes and Gregory
blushed but followed suit. She then stuffed the bag with their old
clothes and shoved a summer hat down over her eyes. Debbie was
wearing a summer dress and sandals and looked lovely, as though she
were going to play tennis.
They
walked straight out of the hospital into town and sat in the park.
From a pocket on the bag she retrieved two wallets both with money
and a small soft velvet pouch. She also grabbed a packet of
cigarettes and a battered lighter. She opened the pouch and inside
was a large green gem set in a silver ring. It was unlike anything he
had ever seen. It twisted around her finger and glowed with a
radiance and fire as she placed it on her right hand. There some
dried leaves in the bag and Debbie placed them in her hand and
crushed them. She then took a cigarette and mashed it into the mix
and placed it on the ground between them and light the mix. It burnt
with a green flame and it's smoke wrapped it's fingers around them
both. When the circle was complete it fell away.
“They
won't find us now Gregory.”
She
smiled shyly and gave him the wallet, his wallet. Everything was
where it was supposed to be, except he had not owned a wallet in
years. Leaning forward she kissed his cheek and pressed a small cross
made of twigs and red wool into his hand.
“Good
luck. Good bye.”
He
sat staring at his hand and he pressed the cross to his chest and the
fingers of the Voice within him lessened. After that things had gone
well for a time. He lived in a hostel, thought about getting a job
and made some friends.
One
night someone had stolen his things and trashed his room. The cross
had gone and the Voice was laughing at him. The sound would be enough
to drive anyone mad. A rasping dry laugh that was pitiless and cruel.
He
wept like a child. He had tried to find twigs and make the cross but
it never worked. His swollen knuckles made the fiddly job impossible
for him. He gave up.
He
was unsure how long it had been, years since the Voice was
everything.
In
the underpass the sound of rainfall began. It rained a lot here, the
place seemed to want to soak it's self in misery. The builds clung to
the greyness.
Then a woman in a long velvet skirt swept into the underpass wrestling
with an umbrella. There she was swearing and her voice was low. He
looked at her and he could see it. It was her. Her shape flickered
and rippled, she was shining. It was more beautiful than the memory.
His
eyes welled with tears. He tried to speak. His tongue felt numb.
“I
HAVE FOUND HER. Hett! I have found her for you.”
His
shout made her snap her attention to him. She muttered something and
her flame vanished into a cloud like grey fog like so many of the other
people and and she began to hurry through the under pass.
The
Voice seemed to purr with please in his mind. Then the Voice seemed
to leave him completely.
Gregory
began to cough and try to stand but his legs failed him. He began to
shake and white spittle trickled down his chin as he coughed and
croaked to try and get his breath. Leaning against the wall he
managed to rise to his knees. His face became red with the strain and
the inability to breathe.
His
white hair shook as dusk and leaves fell about him. He fell on his
side and clutched his chest, in pleasure and agony. He began to vomit
and the world around him grew hazy.
Debbie’s
face was then over him, her dark eyes full of sorrow and love.
Everything went white and the pain eased.
Someone
was calling his name and he thought it was Debbie. Debbie sat in the
garden. She beckoned him. The sky was very blue and the grass so very
green. The colours saturated with light.
Reluctantly
he moved slowly towards her like a dream. His face sad.
“I
lost the cross. I couldn't make another. I did something terrible.”
Debbie
just nodded, gently she smiled at him.
“I
have been look for you for such a long time, but he found you first.
The failing was mine. I should not have left you when I did but I had
to keep her safe, I had to see her one last time.”
Gregory
nodded.
“Who
is she?”
A
smile spread on her face.
“She
is our hope. Our protector, and yours. Without her the Evil that hurt
you would destroy all of your kind. Come now and rest my friend.
Tomorrow I will take you to explore our land some more.”
Gregory
lay his head in her lap and dreamt soft peaceful dreams about the
shining lady. Everything was going to be okay now he knew. He was
home.
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