1)
Something exploded out of the bushes, knocking him to the ground; something savage, wild. Its tusks tore bloody furrows down his chest and stomach as it lunged for him and he threw his arms up in a futile effort to protect himself. With a triumphant squeal the boar sank its teeth into his wrist. He screamed and lashed out with his other hand but none of his blows made any difference. The boar had tasted blood now and it wanted more. The cloying stench of fecal musk and fear made him gag further.
With one last desperate attempt he stabbed his fingers into its eye. The boar let him go, keening in pain and he managed to throw it off with the last of his strength. He clutched at his bleeding wrist and tried to push himself out of its path. But he was too slow.
He barely managed to get into a crouching position before the boar charged him again. He feebly tried to defend himself but its sheer force threw him to the ground. This time he stared into its bloodshot eyes as it went for his throat. Alex screamed, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.
2)
In just one hour his whole life had been turned inside out and it had all started so innocently. He'd opened his eyes to his new life without knowing what it meant; waking up in a field with no memory of falling asleep.
He got up quickly to figure out what was going on and felt the blood rush from his head as pins and needles engulfed him, making his head light. There was a worn and splintered fence post to his left and he held on to it for support. It took a couple of minutes for the dizzy spell to go but this allowed him time to take in his surroundings.
He was on a bridle-path between fields, which led to a dark and foreboding wood. The wood triggered a memory deep inside which he couldn’t place and the more he tried to remember it, the more elusive it became.
It was eerily quiet; no motor-traffic grumble, no guttural wail of trans-atlantic jumbo’s, barking dogs or screaming kids, and that had unnerved him. He realised that he was completely alone in a strange place and, for all he knew, could be miles from anywhere familiar. The air was the sweet fresh test of morning; a crisp dew soaked the bottom of his jeans.
All seemed calm. But there was something at the periphery of his vision that just lined the field’s edges; the horizon quivered like a heat haze and it took him a couple of seconds to realise that it was a mist drifting in. As the grass continued to eddy and coalesce in the wind, he noticed that the mist was getting closer to him, going against the wind.
The post that he'd been leaning on was part of a rough wooden fence that delineated the boundaries either side of the path. Ahead was the wood and behind him the dense mist was almost surrounding him now; getting thicker by the minute, it looked more like a fog that would soon absorb him completely. He didn't like that at all. There was something about being lost in a fog; it was a sense of being totally enveloped and yet utterly alone. Fog was clammy, had the pallor of death and left you just as cold.
With it closing in on him with every passing second there was only one place Alex could go: the wood. It called to him, dark and foreboding, he knew that it was waiting for him, and with each step closer the fear within him grew. Nevertheless he quickened his pace; up ahead the trees were so close together they swallowed the light and the gnarled branches beckoned him closer still towards the viscous dark. The grass dried and died the closer he got to the wood and he no longer felt the sun's warmth on his skin. The air was dank, damp and smelt of old age and loneliness; lost dreams and night sweats.
He looked back and all he saw was the fog. Thicker now, rolling towards him; undulating, coalescing. Something was moving within it. He turned round to face it,his curiosity getting the better of him. Surging, seething, reaching out for him like a plaintive lover, turning him to ice as it stretched out to him. He knew that when it touched him he would be lost forever, but he felt drawn to it and actually reached his hand out.
Suddenly a deep throated bark shattered the silence. It was just enough to break the spell and he quickly turned and stepped into the black surrender of the wood.
3)
Whilst in the wood he had felt disorientated, as if he was in a lucid dream, the world around him felt underexposed, unreal. He had found himself inside a tunnel of holly trees and even the woodland floor was slightly concave as if a groove had been cut into the very earth itself. Discarded leaves and branches littered the floor, crackling and crunching under his feet.
Ahead of him the tunnel petered out and widened until the holly became sparser and bracken grew either side to his shoulders. In the near distance oak, beech and birch trees stood tall; the leaves a fresh, beautiful chartreuse, glowing in the lazy light. A sweet breeze rippled through the foliage whispering to him, acting as lyrics to the enchanting birdsong.
Alex had felt spellbound, as if he was walking inside a fairy-tale. The path sloped gently to a stream before undulating back up the other side. To his left the trees were dense and the sun’s rays stippled through them, creating patchworks on the woodland floor. All around the twigs and branches acted as an early warning to the wildlife that scampered, slithered or flew regardless how carefully Alex trod. As he got closer to the stream he could see that the ground was churned in several places.
The stream shimmered as it languorously slithered through the wood without a sound, further heightening the dreamlike atmosphere. Midges clustered, spiralling around the water’s edge.A couple of meters away he noticed a rabbit hole, unremarkable except for the tufts of white which stuck out from odd angles. Venturing closer he saw pages from a book that had been haphazardly stuffed down the bolt hole. Scooping them out, he wiped the mud from the pages and started to read.
““Is this real? Any of this?”
“Yes, it’s true. You are in a forest that by rights should not exist, talking to a werewolf; king of a long dead pantheon. But in another reality you are still in your car, a victim of a horrific crash; your body warped and bloodied, sculptured by metal on flesh.”
“And on another level I’m writing all this down – the ideas like fractals in my head.”
“Not you, Creator – merely your shade. You are where you belong. Here. Now.””
The rest of the page had been illegible but what he had read made no sense whatsoever. He tucked the pages into his pocket for safe keeping, being careful not to tear them. A branch cracked behind him; he looked up and held his breath at the sight that met his eyes.
Standing in front of him was the most magnificent Stag he'd ever seen, the king of the forest; so proud, its coat chestnut red and sporting a majestic spread of antlers. Alex was transfixed and felt drawn to him, wanting very much to touch and become one with the stag.
It was then that he heard the heavy rustling in the bushes to his right; that was enough to break the spell between them, and the stag bolted. The rustling became louder, but it seemed too large to be a rabbit or a bird. Alex peered into the undergrowth wondering whether it was a fox.
The boar's attack had been viscous, unrelenting; taking him completely by surprise. The transition to unconsciousness was painful and Alex didn't know whether there would be anything to wake up to….
4)
...but darkness. Where the hell was he this time? How long had he been unconscious and what happened to the boar?
He listened intently to gauge whether he was safe. After a couple of minutes of hearing only his own breathing and heartbeat he felt content that he was alone. He could now turn his attention to his wounds.Strangely there was no pain from them and the darkness prevented him from seeing anything so he felt around his body instead. After carefully examining himself, and pushing down his sense of panic, he realised that there were no wounds at all and although his clothes seemed tattered there were no bloodied lacerations or bruises; nothing to account for the horrifying battle. He rubbed his wrists, and somehow this gave him some comfort.
He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. He was alone in the dark without any idea of where he was or how he got there. He knew that he could not succumb to the welling desperation; he had to figure out where he was.
He stood up and banged his head on something cold, damp and incredibly solid. He swore loudly at his stupidity, and heard it echo. He tried standing again, slowly this time, stretching his hands out. It was rock, biting cold and wet, which meant that he was must be inside a cave of some kind. He felt around further and realised that there was enough room for him to manoeuvre; he could actually get into a crouching position before hitting his head again.
As he became accustomed to the dark his other senses sharpened. He could smell the acrid dank air and heard echoes of water drip-dropped on to the floor. He crawled slowly along the ground, all the while hoping he was heading to freedom. He tried not to think about being trapped, suppressed all thoughts about being buried alive to the back of his mind. He shuddered as his clothes clung to him like a second, ill-fitting skin. The further he crawled the lighter it became.
He didn’t notice the breeze at first, it was so faint. Then he felt it on his cheek; a barely perceptible murmur from a long lost lover. He was overjoyed for it meant he was heading in the right direction: A draught meant a way out.The cool breeze continued to caress his skin as he crawled forward at a faster pace now and there, little more than a glimmer at first, he could see a definite light; a lone star in this the darkest of nights, which grew in intensity the closer he got. The cave widened and soon he could, at last, stand.
As it broadened further he saw that there were large flaming torches lining the walls either side at intervals. There were empty wooden trunks and cases strewn about; some broken and smashed. One particular casket caught his eye and Alex knelt down to open it. Inside were more pages, similar to the ones he found in the wood. Some of the paragraphs had been scribbled out with something resembling a felt tipped pen and were now unreadable, and the few that were left made little sense to him. One in particular resonated though and Alex read it through again:
“I saw a glimpse of the future; a man standing over the pages of a book. The book is bleeding – rivulets of blood flowing between the words and sentences, drowning the story in crimson. The man is weeping and all behind him the fairy-tale landscape is dying, Bellkipeg is dying, fading into a breathless void as he forgets it and closes the book.”
It was then that Alex heard raised voices, coming from further in front of him. He couldn’t hear any specific words at first, but they were male –one young and the other older, more direct.The cave sloped up to a rocky outcrop, and the voices carried from beyond the rise. Stuffing the pages in his pocket with the others, Alex moved closer very carefully. He didn’t know whether these were robbers who wouldn’t take kindly to him nosing about, or possible friends who could help provide a solution to his predicament. Either way he didn’t want to frighten them off. He reached the top of the outcrop and peered over the edge.
The older man's clothes were streaked and torn. He was tall, standing proud despite his appearance; his hair was as lank and unkempt as his face was dirty and pocked. His skin was a mahogany hue and he wore a scar on his left cheek. But what really struck Alex was the boy.
5)
He recognised this boy instinctively; it was like an ache in his gut: he knew him! But the more he tried to pin it down, to logic his way around it; the more elusive the boy’s identity became. Like in the field, every effort he made to remember was met by a wall of frustration and hopelessness. What was going on?
The man was remonstrating and raising his voice to the boy and it looked to Alex as if he had caught the boy trying to steal something from one of the wooden chests. The boy didn’t seem surprised by the man and even snapped back at him. They were still too far away for Alex to really understand what they were saying. The boy was now shouting back, almost panic stricken; the older man more placatory in reaction, but still urgent; his hand outstretched as if pleading, trying to talk the boy down from something -as if he was about to step off the edge of a great chasm. Alex crawled closer until he could finally hear what they were both saying.
“Give the egg to me now, Tom.” The older man pleaded, “You don’t know what energies you’re dealing with!” His voice was stern but filled with concern. The boy wavered, in his hands he clutched a large black egg that pulsated with an unearthly malevolence.
The boy started to hand the egg over to the man, his arm shaking with the effort when all of a sudden his whole demeanour changed. The boys youthful posture and being became twisted and warped.
“FOOL! You still have no conception of what you're dealing with. The boy is mine, old man!” The contempt and sheer hatred that came from the boys’ voice shook Alex to the core. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen but the voice spouted forth such venom and hate. The old man felt it too and stepped back.
“You do not belong here! Be gone from the boy!” The old man shouted.
“You are in no position to demand anything, cretinous deceiver!” The boy was clearly just a puppet, his once innocent face perverted into a rictus of hate. “You had your chance to destroy me years ago and failed: now it is my time!”
The boy suddenly lifted the egg high over his head. The old man leapt at him, knocking him to the ground. The egg flew out of the boy’s hands and both could only watch as it shattered on the floor. Darkness erupted forth, flooding the chamber as a harrowing laugh echoed, enveloping everything. Alex never felt the wave strike him so nothing marked the boundary to unconsciousness this time.
6)
Waking up was becoming a chore for Alex as he opened his eyes to blue skies again. If this was a dream then he wished that someone would let him sleep it off! It was really beginning to infuriate him; feeling this helpless..
He stood up and was surprised that he'd been lying on the edge of a large clearing with the mouth of the cave behind him. The cave was set into the side of a hill before being engulfed by a huge wood; he wondered whether this was the same woodland as before. It was then that he realised that the boy from the cave was lying next to him, bruised and unkempt, but still very much alive. The question now stood: who had dragged them out of the cave?
“You never cease to amaze me, Creator.” The booming voice made Alex jump. “How you can look around you, take in all your surroundings, and still miss the one person that’s standing right next to you. It beggars belief!” Alex span round to face what was making fun of him.
Towering well over seven feet tall, the man with the tree-trunk physique had ragged brown hair flowing round his wizened, mahogany hued face. His eyebrows met in the middle and led down to a mildly impressive, if slightly irregular nose; as if it had been broken a couple too many times. His face was extremely emotive and was now in the process of braying with laughter at Alex’s open mouthed expression, for the man also had a large pronounced set of antlers growing out of his head, reminding Alex of the stag in the wood. He had never seen anything like it before.His face also reminded Alex of the tramp in the cave. There was but a passing resemblance yet it felt as if they were somehow connected. Alex wanted to touch the man, if only to prove that he wasn’t dreaming, and reached out.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” The being said, taking a step backwards. “I don’t take too well to being touched whilst on this plane; and if you were wise, you’d learn that fast. You don’t know who I am so you can’t protect yourself against me. I’m not too worried about what you could do to me, you understand. I doubt you could harm me directly in your current state, I’m sorry to say.”
“What….? Just who the hell are you? Was it you that dragged me out of the cave?”
“Questions, hmm – considering what little time we have, Creator, I think we can dispense with the asinine ones straight away. Or… maybe not, looking at the state you’re in… I’ll let you decide what I am…. As for my name, well, it’s hard to say.” The being paused; rubbed his chin and regarded Alex contemplatively. He was wearing a very long animal skin bodkin, faded brown trousers, and he was barefoot, though his feet were extremely hairy and almost hoofed. “You’ve never been completely comfortable with who or what I am, have you?” He continued. “In the beginning my name was Lycaon; a werewolf king of the lost city of Arcadia…. something like that, if I remember, but that didn’t last long. I was a centaur for a while and you batted around the name of Cheiron. That was quite fun, it was certainly original… I mean, who needs two legs when you have four?” At this he sighed. “But now you’ve settled with Onyx, as it suits your mind-set at this particular time, doesn’t it, Creator? But I’m sure you have no idea who Onyx really was….”
Alex had no idea what this… creature was talking about. How could he have three names? What did Alex’s mind-set have to do with this creature? And why the hell did he keep referring to him as a creator?
“Not a creator, THE creator. Now this is going to be a difficult time for you; you have a lot to take in, young man. In many ways you’ve only just started to wake up.”
The words waking up made Alex remember the boy who was still lying on the ground beside him. “What about him? Who is he and what’s he doing here?”
“Look at him, Creator. Study his features well; does he not remind you of anyone?”
“He looks familiar enough, but I just don’t recognise him. Should I know him?”
“Try not to answer a question with another question. You know who he is. Just relax and it will come to you…. See with your heart, not with your mind.”
Alex was bemused at first by what he had been told to do, but relaxed his thoughts nonetheless. Gradually he let his eyes take in what they saw, not what his mind told him. It took a couple of minutes for the truth to finally sink in and when it did he could hardly believe it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me; that can’t be me.”
7)
“You’re right.” Onyx replied. “That is not you; it’s merely a shade; a reflection of what you were. Now, this is where your mind will start shutting down because you don’t want to face what’s happening. But don’t. Don’t close your mind to it, Creator. Concentrate; look deep into yourself and you will see the truth. Remember who you were, remember what it is that the child represents.”
But even as Onyx spoke the words “shutting down” Alex felt as if his whole world was narrowing to a point, everything was draining of colour as he tried to work out what was going on.
“How can I remember who I was… ? I… I Can’t!!” He sputtered in desperation. “I don’t even know who I am now or what I’m doing here, let alone who that is…. I just don’t know!!”
It was then that he realised that he had no memory of anything prior to the field. Apart from his name, he had no idea who he was. He felt his head go light again, like in the field. The dizzying, numbing sensation that started at the crown of his head sent shock waves down the length of his body. He dropped to his knees, cradling his head in his hands.
“I know it’s difficult, Creator, but try not to be so melodramatic about it...” Onyx’s voice became deep and calming. “For now you have to focus on where you are, what you are doing; here and now. Concentrate on every little detail. Everything that happens here happens for a reason and nothing is what it truly seems.
“You need to know who you are, not what you were; the past will not help you. I’m not sure whether you will be able to understand this yet, but you must for we don’t have much time. I now must tell you why you have been brought here.”
8)
“You have been brought here to save this land. And the land, in turn will save you. Remember this: everything is linked, Creator. I am here to guide you, I know much about this land; in many ways we were created at the same time.”
Alex looked up through tear streaked eyes. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about; just shut up. Shut the hell up! I’ve no idea what’s going on or who you are! How can I just forget what’s happened to me and carry on as normal?”
“Now is not the time for mindless indulging. I didn’t say for you to forget what has happened, what I said was to concentrate on where you are NOW.”
“Mindless indulging?! You have no idea.” Still kneeling on the floor, Alex’s head felt as if it was cracking. “I never wanted any of this; all I want to do is wake up!”
“Then wake up, Creator, for all our sakes. Please. We’re all waiting for you to wake up. That is why we’re all still here in this purgatory, waiting for you to take hold of yourself, of your destiny. You are the reason the land around you is in the shape it is.
"You do need to wake up, and that is why you have been brought here. But that is not the same as you wanting to wake up. You want to be like the child lying next to you –you wish to escape and forget about what is happening to you.
“I say this to you now; you are no longer a child, Creator, but you’re not fit enough to know your own mind. You need to stand up and be counted as a MAN. You have not the time to indulge in being a child any longer; this is a dying land and you have been brought here to prevent that.
“The boy that is lying at your side is, indeed, a much younger version of yourself, as you were at 13. He is where the story started. I had hoped that the transition to our land would have left you with better sense of identity; I did not realise you were so far gone in yourself. In many ways you were brought here just in time.”
Alex didn’t understand what he was talking about; he looked at his wrists and rubbed them again, but the comments about being a man, though, struck at the very core of his self, making him realise just how much he had been indulging in his fears; he had felt like giving up.
Onyx was right, there was no time for that anymore; he was the only one that could get himself out of this land, so he had to start growing up. Getting up, Alex brushed himself off and looked Onyx in the eyes.
“Why exactly have I been brought here?”
“You have been brought here to save the land, and thereby perhaps to save yourself. You are the land, you are intrinsically linked and in order to save the land you will have to find out how to save yourself.”
What do I have to save the land from?”
“The child.” Onyx pointed to the boy, still unconscious at his feet.
“No! There is no way. That child cannot be the problem; surely it’s whatever was in the cave, and whatever was in the egg that is threatening this world.”
“They are one and the same, Creator. One will grow out of the other's ruin. That is something that you need to make sure never happens.”
“No! I will not do it, Onyx. You want to kill the boy then you will have to do it!”
“No, you misunderstand; this is something that you must do… but we may already be too late.” Onyx looked beyond him, to the edge of the clearing. Alex followed his line of sight and gasped. The darkness that lay between the trees seethed, it had form and was actually rolling towards them.
“I managed to save you once from the Deluge –when it was in its infancy, but I fear that it has become too powerful now. We will have to run before it swallows us.”
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