fate as the others, at least not yet and stared again at the picture. Beneath it, scrawled on the mirror in marker under the blood, was a name ‘Hollie’. Richard mouthed the name and abruptly began rooting through the assortment of notes on the dresser, no longer caring about the blood that was being smeared across his hands. Finally he stopped and slowly lifted a small local newspaper cutting to what light there was. It mentioned a Hollie Michelle Reade, twenty seven years of age, who had been rushed into hospital with a suspected drug overdose nearly a week ago and who had died two days later. He sighed and hung his head, tossing the slip of paper back onto the pile of scraps. His hand, as it began to fall back to his side, was diverted and grasped a thin text half emerging from the bottom of the heap of paper. He grasped hold of it, pulling the majority of the scraps onto the floor, and squinted at the cover. It had an old looking portrait depiction of the devil tempting Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden and above it in large, red, gothic letters the title ‘VESSEL – Adapted by Christophe Guillaume’. Richard swallowed heavily as a chill shot down his spine and began to flick through the book. Much of it contained the same drawings as Millaians notebook, only much neater and in English. Flicking a few more pages he found one that had been marked and a sentence highlighted. As he read it another chill shot down his spine and he began to shake.
‘VI or I and I shall live : VII of I and I shall be born again’
Everything suddenly fell into place. Chris had been controlled somehow to kill those people and draw their life forces in order to take full control of a host. Richard had never known anything like it, there had been myths of such things but never for it to really happen. He knew, now, what VI of I was and he knew that Millaian still needed this Hollie for something and he dreaded knowing what this would be. Still, though, she was dead now, had been for at least four days, more than enough time to cross over…Unless…And then it hit him. That sparkle in her eyes, she wasn’t anyone normal, she had the power that none of the others had, that Millaian needed, and someone with that amount of power never goes quietly to the other side. He knew exactly where she was and part of him cursed the fact that she was. She was in the Desert of Desolation its self. The Median World.
He slammed shut the book sliding it clumsily into a side pocket in his jacket and, ripping the picture of Hollie from the mirror, rushed out the room and out into the fresh night air. He took a deep breath to clear his lungs of the putrid stench and glanced sideways to Michael.
“I know that look, Rich, we have to call the police about this,” Michael stated soberly, “this isn’t exactly an everyday circumstance we don’t get involved in.”
“Nothings ever an everyday circumstance for me, you should know that,” he looked carefully at the small picture of Hollie and then at the mysterious book before thinking for a second.
“I think you might want to wash your hands whatever you do,” Michael casually said as he noticed the smears of blood on Richards’s hands, “you should have really left things alone. You do know that’s evidence tampering?”
Richard looked up abruptly. “Evidence? Evidence for what? The police wouldn’t know what’s going on here, especially when they find out the guy who did it died but is now wandering the streets with half a face! I don’t even know fully what’s happening,” he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Chris didn’t do this…I don’t want them thinking that”
“There’s no way around it but I’m sure he would have seen his sacrifice just to protect what you do. The police will deal with it in their own way, anyway. Besides, the people who matter know he’s innocent and that’s all that matters in the end now.”
Richard raised his head and looked to Michael remorsefully. “Do it,” he closed the door and looked at the picture of Hollie again as Michael began to dial. “They need to do what they need to and so do I.”
I-IV – Desert of Desolation
“The wise man's eyes are in his head; but the fool walketh in darkness...”
-Ecclesiastes 2:14
The border world was one thing, when falling asleep most people slip in and out of it and never even realise. Those moments just before you loose consciousness, when the world slows down and nothing feels as it should. The only difference is that Medians can go at will. The desert was something else, though. Few had ever willingly gone there; even fewer had come back. It’s a stopping place for spirits with unfinished business, those who want to try and get back to our world. None of them spend any more than a few minutes there, they either find a way back to the border world or are sent to the other side. The only exceptions are us. Medians never go easily to the other side; this was no different if I was right about Hollie. But there was only one way I was about to find out, I would have to do something every fibre of my being told me not to. I would have to die.
The moon rose high in the night sky, casting a thin veil of light across the quiet side street. On the corner opposite to Chris’s apartment two dark outlines lingered in the shade, seemingly waiting.
“What time is it?” Richard asked faintly, breaking the distant droning of the bypass. “They should have been here by now.”
Michael pulled back his sleeve and quickly looked at his watch. “Twenty past ten,” he dropped his arm and sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t wait around like this. You must know how suspicious this looks.”
“Twenty past ten…Just under twenty six hours,” Michael squinted slightly at him and opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it again and turned away. “I just feel I should be here for this,” he paused again and looked out across the street only to find still nothing. “Times have changed, Mike. You need to know some things,” he rubbed his face and tried to think of the best way to proceed. “You remember me telling you that Halloween was nothing? I lied. It’s a time when all the portals open and the lines between worlds blur meaning spirits can more easily cross over than usual. What I do as well-”
“I know,” stated Michael abruptly, “I know everything, how deep everything you do runs, I even know why you tried to hide it from me. It’s because I’m like you, isn’t it? I’m a Median…Or will eventually be one, at least,” he looked into Richards stunned eyes through the haze of night and felt somehow vindicated that there was no response.
“We’ll see,” Richard finally said as a police car pulled up on the other side of the street. “There are things they understand,” he tilted his head in the direction of the Police exiting their squad car, “and there are things we understand. But some things no body understands. Just remember that,” he craned his head into the street and watched the authorities enter Chris’s apartment block while Michael sank down to the ground, his back against the wall, becoming convinced that nothing he could do would please Richard. “Come on, we’re leaving,” he quickly said, helping Michael up from the ground. “Just remember something else as well though. I am proud of you; never think I’m not,” he hurried off down the street, making certain to keep to the shadows as Michael smiled gently before following.
Twenty six hours. Something told me that if Millaian was going to do something, he was going to do it on All Hallows and if he managed to get his hands on his last victim by then, there would be no stopping him. Twenty six hours was the longest amount of ‘safe’ time I had left, even so, that scarcely made me feel any better, especially with what I was about to do. I hadn’t seen Lancer in years and although I knew Chris wanted me to see him; something had been stopping me, pushing it to the back of my mind to forget. But I had no choice now.
They hadn’t walked for long before Richard abruptly stopped and looked across the street at a boarded up and decaying church. He gestured his hand towards it forcing Michael to turn sharply, rushing back towards Richard, only just realising that he had stopped. Apart from the boarded windows the building was half covered with scaffolding, the only parts of the sandstone walls not covered with thick moss and ivy were crumbling away, if not missing at all, replaced by shoddy bricking.
“This
place?” Michael abruptly stated, grimacing at the building, “but…It’s-”
“I appreciate the irony. Apparently, though, so does Lancer,” he looked up at the precarious steeple which missed the majority of its tiles and threatened to collapse at any time. “At least, that’s what he used to say.”
Michael looked sharply at Richard. “Lancer? That’s who we’re going to see?” Richard nodded quickly. “I didn’t think he really existed”
Richard snapped his head away from the chapel, his face was awash with absence and his mouth hung half open as words developed in the back of his throat. “You know about Lancer?”
“Only rumours. They’re more myths really. About him being a Seer and all,” he began to stammer under the scrutinising gaze before coughing awkwardly. “Just stories though.”
Richard was quietly impressed yet disturbed at the fact that Michael had found all this out no matter how much he was prevented from doing so, making him wonder just how much else he knew. “You could call him a Seer,” he answered finally, “to the extent he can see beyond this world into the Median plane, yes. Apart from that he’s just another guy,” he paused for a few