Something Draws Near

The deep, rich, vibrant world around her hints at the true reality of the dreamscape she knows she has stumbled into. Somehow she is just thankful not to be on that street with the boy. There is a perfectly level green field stretching out in every direction as far as the eye can see. The sun shines high in the sky, peeking in and out behind cartoon white fluffy clouds. Sarah smiles softly as she strolls around the magical place, her bare feet sinking gently into the grass with each step. The sun passes slowly behind one of the larger clouds and the plain slowly passes into a hazy grey darkness. A sharp, cool, breeze picks up from behind her, blowing her hair gently in a rhythmic flow, writhing in time with the sudden gusts. Suddenly the wind picks up to an alarming rate and Sarah cannot keep her footing and is lifted swiftly into the air. The air cradles her gently as it caries her ten, twenty, thirty feet in the air before slowing and finally holding her in a graceful hover, the wind howling past her ears. The whistling slowly begins to recede as the wind fades. Sarah fears she will fall as soon as the wind ceases but instead, a warm, almost comforting voice rolls through Sarah’s exhausted mind.

“Deep in the heart of us all lives, amongst others, two things.” The voice draws away the clouds to reveal a blood red sun hovering high in the sky, replacing the vibrant yellow of before. The sun does not frighten Sarah; instead its warmth comforts her.

“One is light and one is dark. Label these two what you will, evil and goodness, innocence and corruption, no matter the name, they represent the same basic elements, struggling within you to gain control of what you are and what the world has always been.”

Looking down, Sarah can see the earth again, no longer grassy and beautiful, but rocky and grey.

“The world that rotates within your own body is the same world that rotates under your feet. What exists on your planet exists on mine as well. This struggle is not about some nameless evil, it is not a fight you must join in or be defeated, and it is not a battle you can choose to take part in. For deep inside, you have selected your allies, and you have selected your warriors. While you have chosen who will fight for, and against you, the choice to command is not yours. Instead you are a helpless spectator to yourself.”

The wind rises again, forcing Sarah’s body to move in a new direction, flying over the seemingly endless expanse of rock and dirt. Eventually she comes to a stop hovering over a solitary figure, standing tall and proud.

“The side of good has chosen a woman. This woman has been labeled by the world around, and inside her, she is labeled Innocence.”

Her hair flows down her back in locks of shimmering gold and copper. Her body is slim and young. She has a gleam in her eyes, which is only diminished by the constant buffering of the world she has not experienced, in a world that has never experienced her. Now, that gleam is fading, instead a look of terror that only a small child could know, dangles across her face.

“Innocence has never known this fear before, for to be innocent is not to know. Ignorance does not know this fear, but now it does. Innocence has seen the world for the first time and it is terrified. She stands facing what she has feared most, knowledge, and in that knowledge a horrible understanding. As she gazes out amongst the snarled teeth of enlightenment and dripping claws of knowledge, she sees something new. Corruption draws near.”

With this announcement the sun bleeds out all of its light into the air, clouds, and soil, enveloping them all in its rich glowing light. The world pulses around Sarah like some demented heartbeat, first reaching out to take hold of her, then recoiling in fear. Without warning, the pulsing stops and all the light simply fades out of perception and as suddenly as the landscape came, it is gone.

Sarah awakes from the strange dream calmly, not afraid of what she has just seen, merely confused. John rolls over gently laying his arm across her stomach, completely un-aware of what has just transpired in her mind.

‘“Corruption draws near” what the hell is that supposed to mean?’ For a moment the boy, the dark man, and the confusion of the last week rush to her head then fade as quickly as the sun in the dream. Sarah decides that it is the morphine the doctors prescribed to her in the hospital and that she should enjoy the vivid images while they last. “I might as well enjoy this, people pay good money for this kind of shit,” Sarah confides in her husband’s outstretched arm.

Sarah was silent for some time, thinking about the dreams, thinking about anything that rushed through her mind. She decides that she can’t lie in bed; she needs to clear her mind somehow. Sliding over, gently swinging her legs out over the side of the bed, sliding her feet into her slippers a practiced maneuver she had done many times after long nights of restlessness while John slept peacefully. Waking in the middle of the night from her dreams seems to be her curse. Standing up, the slight rush to her head makes her dizzy for a moment, and then passes. Shuffling down the long hallway from the bedroom to the kitchen Sarah can’t help but think that she had seen the boy before the night in the rain. Where had this thought come? The sudden idea filled Sarah’s head until she could think of nothing more. Where had she seen that little child? Pacing back and worth over the cool terra cotta tiles of the kitchen she racked her brain for any notion of where the boy had come from. Her thoughts darted between the faces of neighbor’s children, coworker’s children and finally, the admission that most children that age look similar. Dismissing the idea of recognizing the boy, Sarah allows her mind to wander freely. “I wonder if I woke John up.” Sarah wonders out loud, actually hoping she had. Instead of going back to the bedroom to check she continues on her outward spiral of thought. Through a slow progression of connections she returns to the thought of the boy and finally, the dark man. Strangely, Sarah’s first thought was how handsome he was at first glance. Immediately her mind shifts towards less tangible qualities, such as the nearly obvious power he held, so softly balanced with the clearly gentle heart nestled within. With this, Sarah begins to think aloud, “Perhaps I’ll call him to find out if I can pump more information out of him.” Realizing how unlikely, not to mention crass this would be she decides that perhaps something could be gained from cooperation. Despite their limited encounter, which was vaguely characterized by threats, Sarah trusted the man and perhaps, they could help each other. With this she decides a glass of water and some crackers will clear her head.

Sarah groggily looks up from the small, half empty bag of Saltines and catches the first dazzling orange rays of the sun sprinting through the gaps in the blinds and splashing onto the wall behind her. Sarah knows she passed another night in the same half awake sleep that she has drifted through so many times before. What made this morning different? She chuckled softly at the thought that her life had become a Lifetime family movie maybe she would adopt the little boy. Sarah chuckled harder at the thought of going back out onto the street to see if the kid needed a place to live. Just as Sarah began laughing harder, her eyes watering, a heavy knock came at the door. The loud pounding startled her and it took a moment for her to compose herself. Standing up slowly, Sarah unconsciously brushes back her hair and scratches the last bit of cracker from her teeth. Peering between the soft cotton sage green curtains out towards the porch, to see who could be at her home this early in the morning, she was not shocked to see the long dark coat, black shoes, and pulled down brim of the dark man’s hat, subtly hiding all of his face but his sharp chin. Sarah remembers quickly how keeping the upper hand was important in their last meeting. This should prove especially true if this man is as powerful as she imagined. Sarah makes her way towards the door muttering just before opening the door “maybe he’ll at least tell me who he is.” Standing, as if posed by a Hollywood director, the tall man looks up from under his hat and announces casually as he steps past Sarah “I told you I’d see you again.”

“So much for the upper hand” Sarah mumbles inaudibly closing the door then trailing the man as he brushes past her towards the kitchen at a distance. Shortly after the man disappears around the corner Sarah hears the distinct sound of John panicking.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” John was not an intimidating man to look at but when crossed could be a man to be reckoned with, especially if he felt Sarah was in danger.

“We’ll just wait for your wife to catch up and hopefully I can answer your first question and she can answer your second.” The man explained calmly hoping to avoid a major confrontation. Finishing his sentence he noticed why John was standing in the strange offensive stance he was in, he was holding a large kitchen knife in his right hand. Immediately the man’s training quickly took over and before John could flinch the tall man’s Colt model 1911 pointing directly at John’s chest. “Put the knife down now John!”

Sarah enters just as John is dropping the knife, instead of panicking she simply asked, as if inquiring about the whether “what are you doing to my husband? He’s about to make my breakfast.” Sarah decides to throw in one last comment before the tall man takes over, which she knows he will “Now that we’re on the subject who are you and why are you here?”

The man gestures casually towards the kitchen chairs positioned around the round oak table. Initially they hesitate, but then realize they didn’t have much choice in the matter. After sitting the man removed his hat and overcoat, the oak leaves on his lapel catching both Sarah and John’s eye for the first time.

“My name is Colonel David Taylor United States Marines.” Colonel Taylor announced proudly “and I will get to your questions in a moment, just let me explain a few things about your present situation.”

“Present Situation?” John started to rise from his seat but quickly began easing back down, both because of the stare from Colonel Taylor’s hard eyes and the gentle touch of Sarah’s hand on his shoulder easing him down.

“As I was saying,” Colonel Taylor continued, pausing briefly to be assured they were both in their seats quietly, glancing towards the two doors that entered the kitchen and the front door. He didn’t actually expect anyone to be there he merely was checking as his training of 14 years previous had taught him. “Before I tell you why I’m here and more specifically who I am I need to inform you both exactly what your current predicament is.”

John remained calm, preparing to act this out like a business deal he sits up strait, folds his hands in front of himself, and stares Colonel Taylor directly in the eyes.

Occasionally the tall man would return John’s stare, but for the most part merely back and forth between the two. “Now the simple part, John.” Taylor leans forward on his elbows and now returns John’s gaze. “You are not to leave the city and I would prefer you not leave your property for the remainder of this week.” This request was spurring a response from David but John slowly raised his hand before a single word crossed David’s lips. “I know you have already taken the week off and any business you have can be done from your home office.” David continued, expecting that any lull would encourage John to mount a counter attack. Aside from that, John, you simply must refrain from telling anyone why you are here, beside the obvious,” motioning towards Sarah. “As for you Sarah my instructions are slightly more complicated and that should lead us into your larger question; why am I here?”

Sitting in the chair across from the confused couple Col. David Taylor began what he knew was going to be a long conversation. “First, I’m going to tell you what I need from you Sarah.” Expecting resistance from Sarah he pauses for a moment and glances up at her without lifting his head. She sits motionless; her head cocked slightly to one side, a look of helpless acceptance glazed over her defiant eyes. For the time being we want you to try and continue life as usual. Try not to change any of your routines or habits. I’m going to be honest with you, there is a great deal of danger involved in what you are doing, but you are too far into this to turn back now. You will be under surveillance for an unknown amount of time. For the most part you probably won’t notice, but I think you should know about it. Hopefully Mr. Black will attempt to make contact with you and we will be able to apprehend or… kill him. Now one thing I must make absolutely clear at this point, both of you, do not, under any circumstance, ever touch Mr. Black. If you come in direct contact with him all hope for you is lost and we will be forced to terminate both of you.”

John’s eyes widen at the revelation that this whole incident is not a tasteless joke, it’s not a hoax, and his beloved wife could be killed as a result of this insanity.

David did not give time for objections; he still felt an explanation was owed to the now frightened couple. “Now it was a difficult decision to tell you what I am about to tell you. I feel that you have a right to know whom Mr. Black is and why he is causing so much trouble. Sarah…” David leans over the table towards her slightly “I owe you a small apology, Mr. Black is not exactly who I told you he is. Some of what I told you is true but it is slightly more complicated who he actually seems to be. Now most of this sounds like bad science fiction but you will have to bare with me on this. We believe that Mr. Black is not human; to be totally honest, we don’t know exactly what he is. He first showed up on this country’s radar in the late nineteenth century in the South. By the late 1950’s we had a relatively detailed file on him. Multiple sightings, many accounts of encounters…” at this point David stumbled, it was strange that he had handled a dozen of these cases himself and had never had a problem but with this there was something strange, something wrong. Duty required him to ignore the feeling and carry on “…and many deaths. Mr. Black seems to take on many forms and approaches many different types of people; men, women, children, he does not seem to discriminate in who he chooses. There are a few things in common with each case. First, the initial encounter always occurs in the same method as you described to varying degrees. Many times the individuals break away from him somehow and he makes later attempts at contact. In a few cases Mr. Black was able to make contact on the first night, these individuals unfortunately do not survive long. The remaining individuals are eventually contacted at some point and after he is done with them, are killed in one manor or another. Our goal obviously is to stop that from happening. A second similarity between all the cases is that the progression of incidents following the encounter are the same regardless of how long between first sighting and physical contact. The individual usually starts behaving very aggressively towards loved ones and displays a tendancy towards radical reactions to all situations. Don’t interpret this to mean that they go crazy and start yelling and screaming, running around biting the heads off of chickens. To the contrary you could not tell if, your husband for instance was affected, if you don’t know what to look for. After this, the individual generally seeks out a target in one form or other be it political or social, but this person is very often high status. After the target is destroyed the individual attempts to meet with Mr. Black one last time at which point they are killed by him. This whole process happens in anywhere between one week and five months. On top of this, each individual notices a black feather which we believe to be a crow’s feather at the scene of each meeting and all the individuals were killed in the same ritualized manner, which I won’t go into, and the right wing of a bird again which we believe is a crow is left on the body, placed over the chest. We have ruled out that this is an ordinary serial killer because of the time frame and have ruled out the chance of a copy-cat criminal because of the highly classified nature of the information and other details which are kept secret and no one member knows all of methods and details. To be absolutely honest when it comes down to it we have no idea who Mr. Black is in reality, he almost always appears differently to everyone he sees. He appears as either an old man, a beautiful woman, or in your case a young boy. We have no doubt that Mr. Black is the same individual that perpetrated the first incident in this country in the late 1800’s and I have no doubt that he is the very boy that you saw a few nights ago. “David leaned back in the chair, finished, waiting for all the information to sink in. He knew there would be questions.

“So,” John began slowly, one eye cocked in disbelief, his hand trembled slightly “I don’t know I totally understand this, if these people were killed how do you have all this information?”

“Well, we’ve pieced it together from all the cases over the last century or so.”

“Well since you’ve gathered all this information and have found out how to spot the problem, how many of those people contacted have you been able to save?”

David pauses, he simply glances down at the table and shakes his head slowly signifying their inability to save anyone. “There was only one man who we nearly saved, he claims he was able to injure Mr. Black but before we could arrive at his location to pick him up he had been killed.”

John was digging through his mind for a solution; he could always find a way to solve problems life these. “Well…how do you know it is one individual, maybe it’s a cult that teaches its members these rituals and that’s how it has been passed down for so long?” John had already convinced himself this was the answer.

“No, we have retained DNA information from many of the bodies and they all match up.”

“How could you possibly have DNA information from a killer that was left there in the 1800’s?” John was trying to go on the offensive believing he had the mysterious man caught in a trap.

“Because John it was a piece of him.” Not wanting to say anymore, hoping he would move on, but knowing we wouldn’t.

“Don’t tell me the dropped a hair on every victim and you were able to unearth old bodies and find hairs on them, come on David I wasn’t born yesterday.” John’s skepticism giving his voice a biting twinge that soured David’s formerly calm mood.

“No you pompous bastard the feathers, the wings, they all had the exact same DNA. They were all stored and in the late 1990’s all the feathers were tested on a hunch and the results all came back positive and if you’re going to say that the cult stores the feathers in a jar, just forget it, when the wing is found on each victim it has fresh blood on it, besides there have been more then two victims, so that would have to be a pretty special crow.” David shuddered realizing he had said victim, he had always said individual to not give the situation a worse feeling then it already had. Victim made people feel helpless as though they can do nothing to avoid their future.

This information slowed John’s attacks but could not stop them. “That’s impossible what does this guy have little wings he can clip off, come on that’s absurd.”

“I told you, we don’t know what he is, but like I said we know he’s not human and we know it is the same creature at each incident. The only form that anyone has ever seen him in is as a human. We know he bleeds and as the theory goes if it bleeds it can be killed.”

John still refuses to believe that there is not some other, simpler explanation. “If you were able to test the DNA weren’t you able to determine what species it was?”

David expected the question and answer simply with another slow shake of his head.”

John continued on his attack while his wife sat idly by contemplating what her next action should be. “Ok, lets just assume you’ve got it right and this thing isn’t human, and admittedly you don’t know what it is. If you claim it’s lived for over a century and has all of this power how do think you guys are gunna kill it?”

David replies calmly “I’m actually glad you asked that question John. We think that while the creature is in its human form it has only the power of the form. For example in this case when it takes the form of the little boy he is no powerful then a small child. So logically we just wait for it to transform into a little boy and we capture and destroy it if it comes to that.”

John mutters to himself “gunna end up killing some kid.”

Sarah speaks up for the first time all night “That’s bullshit! That thing had power I could feel taking hold of me, even in my dreams I can feel its power reaching out and taking hold of me. The only way I got away was because of whoever that person in the car was, if it weren’t for that I couldn’t have resisted. It felt like his voice was inside my head yelling out.”

David replies trying to respect Sarah’s experience but still be firm in his response, possibly more for John’s benefit then hers. “Sarah I understand how you feel but we seem to believe that Mr. Black’s powers in that sense are purely suggestive, a form of persuasion if you will, he has no real physical power.”

The comment does not slow Sarah’s line of reasoning, “Look David, I understand what you believe, but I was there and I know what I felt. Even if that were true and he had no physical strength, that kind of mental power is sufficient to stop anyone in their tracks. If it has those kinds of abilities how do you think you can just sneak up on it and grab it, doesn’t that seem somewhat short sighted?”

“Well Sarah that would be a good point if it weren’t for one thing. Despite my frankness with you this evening there is still a great deal you do not, and hopefully will never have to know. I came here this evening to gain your trust. I hoped by trusting you with this information, you would trust me with…” David paused, mainly for effect but also to contemplate whether or not the choice of words was appropriate, then continued. “…Your lives.”

The discussion went on further into the night David attempting to gain the trust of the cynical John and the apparently frightened Sarah. While both appeared to still be skeptical, David left feeling that he had made some progress despite the fact he couldn’t shake the strange feeling something was not as it seemed. He decided to ignore the feeling and go home and sleep on it and allow the couple time to think about all they had heard and hopefully Sarah would call the number printed at the bottom of the vague business card David had left on the kitchen table as he walked out the door.