Chapter Two
Bane Bronson was in a daze as he entered the mansion that was his home as comfortable and familiar as any studio apartment, mindlessly heading to the nearest liquor cabinet for a bottle of scotch before shutting himself in his private study to drink himself into unconsciousness. Usually his booze induced sleeps were so deep it was as if he lost a minimum of eight to ten hours of his life, sometimes more, but this time was different; this time he dreamt. From the moment the glass slid from his hand to the floor and his head lulled for the last time his mind was transported into the realm of dreams.
Bane found himself in the middle of a deep wood full with the life of summer, but still and silent as if void of atmosphere and reality. There was no breeze; no movement and most confusing there were no sounds anywhere. Even when he walked, stepping on twigs that gave way beneath his feet and the leaves from winter’s past there were no cracks and no crunch, nothing as he wound his way through the labyrinth of trees. He had never been on a trip like this before and the emptiness surrounding him was beginning to frighten him. If this was what it was like for someone to go deaf after a life of glorious sound he felt for anyone who had to go through what he was experiencing in this twisted escapade.
He was starting to panic just a bit, suppressing the urge to break into a frantic run when he suddenly stepped from the trees into a circular clearing with a slight knoll in the very center where there had been nothing but trees a second ago. Bane climbed to the top of the tiny hill and peered up into a cloudless flat blue sky. There was no trace of the sun or which direction it might be in and no indication of east, west, north, or south. With no sign in the sky he began to survey the woods that surrounded him, spinning around and to his surprise, there beside him where there was nothing a moment ago was a man. For a second Bane just stood there staring into this strangers eyes. The man had long brown hair that went past his shoulders and a beard of a few weeks growth. He was wearing a baggy, off white, long sleeved shirt with a slit down the front that was bound with a simple cord, a pair of worn jeans and no shoes.
“Where am I?” The instant Bane asked he thought it sounded stupid, but the man slyly smiled with raised eyebrows.
“Good question. Where are you?”
Bane didn’t know how to react to this man. He should be angry, furious with him. He should cuss him out and storm off, but to where? Somehow he felt this stranger knew so much more; that he had the answer to his question. To all of his questions and he needed to know what this guy had to show him.
“How do I get out of here?”
“Depends on which path you take.”
“What path? There’s no... path?” Bane pointed to the vast woods around them, but when he looked towards the trees he saw they had silently shifted revealing lanes within them winding deep into the darkening forest.
“What? What is this?” He paused uncertain and not willing to believe his eyes, but quickly decided to let it go and get out of this crazy place. “Fine... whatever. Which one do I take?”
“Anyone you want. I can’t choose a path for you, all I can do is show you where they lead.”
“Which one leads back home?”
“Home? Which home?”
He was beginning to get irritated with this hippy on the hill. “Home! You know, reality; sanity! My house, career, money, family! Home!”
“Ah, yes. If all you want to get to is back where you were than all of them will take you there.”
Frustrated Bane stormed off down the knoll towards the tree line, tired of a conversation going in circles mumbling, “Then what’s the stupid point?” Throwing in a few colorful extras along the way.
The stranger only watched patiently as he reached the edge of the forest and stopped cold peering down the paths in front of him. They were so dark, some instantly and others further in that he backed away slightly and looked back towards the man on the hill. “Hey, you. Didn’t you say you could show me something about these trails?” And the man sauntered down to meet him.
“It’s so dark, I can’t see where I’d be going. You said you could help right? So help... and no more riddles.”
“What do you want to know?”
Bane opened his mouth then snapped it shut again. He wasn’t going to give this man the opportunity to spew poetic rhetoric; confusing and irritating him even more and gave careful thought to what the stranger had said. “What did you mean when you asked me ‘which home’ in straight English if you please?”
“There is the home you spoke of ‘reality’, at least as you know it...”
“What do mean by that ‘as I know it’?” he interrupted.
“... and there is the home that all mankind must choose consciously or unconsciously, to spend eternity.”
“I don’t go in for all that eternity junk.”
“Don’t you?”
The look in the man’s eyes and the tone of his voice made Bane feel as though he could see into the deepest darkest part of his soul and it unnerved him and it showed in his voice. “No, I don’t.”
“What about your lyrics? Your clothing? Your tattoos?”
“Just an act.” he bit off, anxious to defend himself, though he didn’t know why he felt like he had to.
“Really?”
The question made Bane flinch and he hoped it hadn’t shown.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s the truth whether you believe it or not. You can believe chaining yourself underwater for a week without air will not harm you, but the truth is your death and judgment.”
“Judgment?” but the man didn’t answer so he turned his attention back to the trees and the paths within. “What about them? I mean, say I go in for all this afterlife stuff; where do they lead?”
“With each decision you make great or small the path changes. Each is different. Some are easily traveled, some are not, but they all lead to the same place in the end. All but one that is.”
Bane’s anger rose, but quickly abated when a new thought rushed over him. “Decisions... you mean these paths aren’t just paths in the woods?”
“Precisely.”
“Then they’re like life’s paths or something?”
“Your life to be exact.”
“So each one of these roads are what happens to me?”
“Depending on what choices you make; yes.”
“That means I can see my future?”
“Only the end result.”
“Then what’s the point? I mean; if all of them take me back home... excuse me... back to reality and they all lead to the same place ultimately then what’s the big deal?”
“Do you want a glimpse or not?”
Bane thought for a moment, but figured he might as well go along with the gag. Maybe then he’ll wake up. “Sure, why not, but just for the record I still don’t go in for all this ever after junk.”
“Choose your path.”
And that he did. Looking around he sized them up choosing a nice, friendly well-lit path. “How ‘bout this one, looks harmless enough. What do I do?”
“Just step onto the one that you choose and when it’s over you’ll be back on top of the hill with me.”
Seemed simple enough and he made for the opening he wanted stopping just shy of it. “You won’t leave me... I mean you’ll be here when I get back right?” Forgetting that he wanted out, not back.
“Always.”
Somehow he knew it was true and it comforted him. Turning back to the trail he took his first step onto the grassy road and was pulled through it like a vortex. He flew through the wood like he was on a high speed roller coaster going past beautiful rose bushes and over delicate flower beds, passing sparkling pools of water and always it was the cusp of summer where warmth and light were sublime and perfect. Bane was enjoying the ride. That is until with a brilliant blinding flash of light he was flung into a void of darkness and there he hung suspended in nothingness. He began to shiver from the inside out, violent tremors he could not stop or ev
en begin to control wracked his whole body and an overwhelming depression seized his heart. His fear was amplified five, ten, a hundred times beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life and loneliness engulfed his soul. It was if every painful emotion, every hurtful feeling he had or could ever have, had grown not only within him, but all around him into a massive invisible monster attacking from every possible direction and he was defenseless against it all. Agony beyond agony, wave after wave slammed straight through him. Bane never knew loneliness and emptiness could be so excruciatingly painful as he screamed and howled desperately out of natural instinct. He flailed wildly and doubled over fearing he’d lose his sanity if left to suffer for one more second when that same blinding flash hit and he was back where the stranger said he would be, on the brightly lit hill top where he started. Standing beside the man with no shoes he wobbled and fell to the ground his hand on his forehead.
“Was that...?”
“Real? Yes, but just a glimpse.”
“How long was I gone?”
“Five seconds.”
“Five seconds? Is that all?”
“Yep. Feel longer?”
“Much. What was that place? It felt like Hell. Only no Hell I’ve ever heard of. It was so empty and...”
“Lonely?”
“Yeah. It was if I was...”
“Separated?”
“That’s it... separated, from every good thing... feeling and all that was left was total...?”
“Despair?”
“Exactly, despair! ... but?”
“I know a lot of things Gregory.”
Bane jerked at hearing his real name. Few knew it and after all these years of going by Bane Bronson he’d nearly forgotten it himself. He’d legally changed it decades ago from Gregory Westmore as soon as he was old enough. Partly for his career, but also to escape his past, who he was and who he didn’t want to remember; though he refused to admit that part. He had chosen Bane after his favorite super villain and Bronson after his favorite hero, one that wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. His gut twisted into a knot, this man not only knew that, but the question hadn’t even reached his lips before it was answered. Then again this was only a dream; wasn’t it? He looked up peering into the man’s eyes. “This is just a dream; right?”
“What do you think?”
“It has to be or else how would you know so much? If this isn’t a dream than it would have to be...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
“Real?”
“Yes.” Stumbling over the word.
“Why not? Why can’t this be ‘real’?”
Bane thought about lying, of making up some sort of pseudo-scientific psychological reason, but as he looked into the strangers eyes he couldn’t form the words. Instead the truth came pouring out of him, gushing forth uncontrollably. “Because if this, this...” he said motioning around him, “is real than that back there would have to be real too.” Fear and a hint of desperation filling his voice.
“I told you it was.”
“But to know everything that you know and warn me against it you’d have to be a god or something.”
“Not a and not something.”
“Okay then, you’d have to be God.”
“So.”
He shook his head, “But you said that that was the road I was on!”
“I did.”
“That means I’m going back there one day!”
“Back where?”
“Don’t play games, you know where, back there; back to Hell! I’m going to Hell... I’m... going to... Hell....” Bane broke. It was finally sinking in. Hell wasn’t just another word in his lyrics. It wasn’t the home of a man in red pajamas with horns, a tail, and a pitch fork. It was the worst place that he could ever imagine, he had been there, he was going back there and that realization terrified him.
The stranger on the hill knelt beside him placing a hand on Bane’s shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”
“But how?”
“Stand up.” The two men rose and Bane noticed a light shining down one of the paths deep in the wood and the stranger pointed to it. “That is my path. In it there is no darkness; only truth. Follow my word and you’ll never be lost.”
Bane looked down the trail as far as he could imitating Robert Frost, then turned to ask the man one more question, but he was no longer on the hill with him. In fact he was no longer anywhere. It took him only a brief minute to scan the dark paths all around before heading for the light. As he drew closer he heard a voice calling to him. A deep buoyant voice full of conviction and truth and he began running towards it.