SHE BECKONED ME in a dream, her eyes beautiful, alluring. I watched as she was relentlessly pursued. “Come to me, my Warrior,” she said, pointing to a street sign. It held not only an address, but a date. An arrow pointed to an adjacent building: 11 Plymouth-Sorrento Road, January 1, 2009.
What did it mean? As I pondered, I caught a glimpse of what pursued her. It was a man in frame but a shadow in appearance. He laughed menacingly, pointing at me.
“You cannot save her,” he said, with an evil grin. A strange sensation overcame me. Was this not a dream at all but real? A message? The woman looked at me again, and our eyes met. She was so beautiful—how could she be real?
She vanished behind a door, and I remained frozen. The shadow followed her, still laughing. Everything went dark, and I woke up. The clock said midnight. I had been asleep for only a few hours.
Is that a real address, 1 Plymouth-Sorrento Road? I wondered. I looked at the clock again and saw the date. The first of January in 2009. I sighed. The burning desire to investigate overpowered me. I slid out of bed, and I slipped on my nearest clothes, my uniform shirt and the black dress pants I wore with it. I hung my flashlight and holster on my belt, placed my EMF meter and infrared thermometer into my pockets, and reached for my God’s Army hat. I left the house and started my car.
“She called me her Warrior. What did she mean?” I plugged the address into the GPS, and it was real—and local. I put the car in gear. I didn’t know what was going on, but I intended to find out.
The GPS led me to the address from the dream. It looked exactly as it had appeared then, too—a large, three-story building, like an office building or a hospital. I parked some distance away and approached on foot.
To the right, along the corner of the building, I heard rushing water. Shining my flashlight on the source, I saw a maintenance entrance to a sewer system, a tunnellike opening, like a subway entrance. It didn’t appear to extend down very far.
I left the underground entrance behind and approached the front door of the building. Before I could knock, a light flickered on inside, and a young woman peered through the window. Our eyes met; it was her. Her eyes—I could easily become lost within them.
“Open the door,” I said to her. She smiled, shaking her head no.
“I’m here to help. Let me in!” I called to her. She maintained her smile, turned to the right, and walked away. Behind her, a shadow followed—the same shadow from the dream. Its menacing laughter echoed loudly even through the locked door. I had to get inside. I couldn’t let her face the darkness alone.
I turned to the sewer entrance, adjusting my flashlight to flood.
Pipes ran along the ceiling and the upper half of the walls. Most were covered with a dense coating of rust. I figured it was my only way in, but I approached it with caution, taking the few steps down slowly. Once I was inside the small, square area, I shone my flashlight
about. The water entered from the right, sluiced down a slope, and rushed toward the building. I pulled my EMF meter from my pocket and activated it. No readings…that is, until a shadow darted in front of me. Laughter echoed throughout the chamber, following the direction of the water.
The meter bounced wildly, the readings fluctuating. Then they stopped. The voice fell silent, too. I followed the direction from which it had seemed to come, but that led to a dead end. I glanced at the path that ran alongside the water. A valve moved, just behind me, turning slowly. I spun around and watched as it seemed to move on its own. The water drained quickly, and the valve stopped turning. I peered over the edge of the walkway into a newly formed path about eight feet down.
I pulled my head lamp from my pocket and fixed it on my forehead, centered above my eyes. I placed it on the point setting, a single beam of light that illuminated exactly where I was looking. Sliding my flashlight into its holster, I jumped forward and landed in a crouch on my feet in the center of the walkway. I stood quickly, drawing my flashlight and holding it forward as I started down the dark path.
Soon I reached another lever, against the right corner of the end of the path. Odd. Why would a lever be kept underwater? I glanced around then returned my gaze to the lever. I pulled it back cautiously and was rewarded with a click, followed by another click, then silence. I searched the walls, looking for a ladder, but found none. However, there were pipes running at different intervals along the wall. I grabbed on to the pipes, using them for footholds to scale the wall like a monkey, shifting my weight from side to side, using the momentum to extend my reach. When I reached the top pipe, I raised myself up and rolled onto the walkway. Standing quickly, I moved swiftly down the walkway and found myself looking up at an open hatch.
A ladder extended from it, just within reach. I jumped and grasped the lower rung with both hands and pulled myself up far enough to reach the next rung with one hand, then the next, then the next, until I had both hands and feet on the ladder. Rung by rung, I ascended at a steady pace.
Midway I paused. A chill ran down my spine. I pulled the thermometer from my pocket and held it out. The temperature below me was around seventy degrees; oddly enough, the temperature above me was at least twenty degrees colder. Just as I returned the thermometer to my pocket, a cold hand grabbed my right hand.
I looked up quickly. My gaze was met by the cold eyes of a pale figure. “Warrior,” he said to me. “You must save her…but before you may do so, you must revisit the demons of your past. Learn from them… conquer them.” He held my hand firmly. I locked my leg around the ladder and released my grip on the rungs, grasping his other hand. He looked at me, surprised. Tears welled up, or would have, if he had been alive.
“It is too late for me, Warrior,” he said, despair evident in his voice. “But it is not too late for her. Find her. Save her.” He looked behind him then back to me. His hand trembled in mine, his eyes telling his story. The darkness had consumed him, and now it sought to take him back.
“I won’t let go,” I said to him, holding firmly. He groaned as the forces beyond him pulled at him, but when I continued to hold on, he smiled. A sensation of relief crept into his eyes as he stared into my eyes one last time.
“You will triumph, I know. Farewell, Warrior,” he said softly. A white cloud puffed from his mouth, blinding me. The hand that I held so tightly vanished, and he was gone, back into darkness. Or was he now free? I sighed, resting my forehead against the ladder, closing my eyes.
Demons of the past…Warrior…find her…too late for him…What was going on?
I resumed climbing just as a voice broke the silence. “I am following your every step,
Warrior,” said a menacing and oddly familiar voice from the shadows. I reached the top of the ladder and opened another hatch.
I was in my room, the room where I started the Separation. Now, it seemed that I would live this story.
The Separation