Echoes From the Abyss: Chapter Three
The Series Where YOU Decide What Happens Next
Welcome to Echoes From the Abyss, a new experimental mini-series on the Writer’s Journey where you, the reader, will decide what happens next in the story.
You’ll find a poll at the end of this chapter, with two options. Cast your vote, and check back soon for Chapter 4 to see how the story progresses!
I stared down at the abomination in the cage. My mind wandered back to the horrors that this town suffered all those years ago.
She can’t be allowed to succeed.
You have to stop her.
At any cost.
Franklin’s hand hovered over the cage. He looked back at me with those warm, kind eyes.
“Go ahead and open it,” I said.
Franklin flipped the latch on the door of the crate. The thing inside stayed perfectly still. He reached down to the bottom of the door and flipped the other latch. It still didn’t move.
He swung the cage open and reached inside. I took a step back.
“You know, for being such an ugly thing, when it’s sleeping it’s actually kind of cu—”
As soon as Franklin had his hands on it, the thing in the cage sprung to life. It flipped over in the blink of an eye and ran up Franklin’s arm with ruthless precision.
“Son of a bitch!” Franklin screamed.
I took two more steps back as Franklin furiously reached for the creature. It crawled around his back, dodging his hands as he spun in place.
“Help me Reyna!” Franklin shouted.
I took another step back.
Franklin threw himself into the back wall of the office as the creature ran up his back. He stumbled forward just as it crawled around to the back of his neck.
I looked away as its mandibles dug into the base of his skull. Franklin howled in pain as it started burrowing into the flesh between his shoulders.
I looked back over as the thing settled into its new home.
Franklin’s skin grew over it until it was nothing more than a large lump protruding from the back of his neck. Noticeable, but only if you were looking.
Franklin’s body shot upright. He looked straight up into the humming fluorescent bulbs above us.
“I am but a worm, wrenched from the dirt,” Franklin whispered under his breath, “Crawling toward her voice. Reaching for the Dreamer’s embrace. Shed the skin. Open the door. Bow before her. Tear open your chest and offer your heart. Follow the call. Follow the call. Follow the call.”
Franklin’s head turned down. I ducked behind the door to the office.
I should have fled earlier, but the sight of the transformation, the sound of their incoherent rambling, it all brought me back. It triggered scars left on my soul and paralyzed my body in the process.
Trauma runs deep in Wilmont.
I held my breath as I heard Franklin’s shuffling footsteps.
“Must go home. Clean the dishes. Dust the countertops. Not a speck. Mother must be happy. Always happy. Cannot make her mad. Never say no. Always yes,” Franklin said.
I stepped away from the door and crouched low. I made my way toward one of the back corners of the back room. Once I was safely out of Franklin’s path, I would be able to follow him.
My foot came down on something wet. Before I could pull it back, I felt myself slipping. I instinctively reached out to break my fall, but my hand dragged across one of the nearby shelves, knocking boxes of wood nails off the ledge.
The tiny metal nails skittered across the ground as I landed hard on my back.
So much for the stealthy approach.
“INTERLOPER!” Franklin shrieked.
I climbed onto my feet as I heard his footsteps echoing through the back room of the hardware store. By the time I stood up, he was already sprinting through the exit.
Fuck. I can’t lose him!
I gave chase, weaving through the shelving and coming out into the main store. I heard Franklin nearby. He was panicking, or rather, the thing controlling him was. I heard a crash several aisles over and ran toward the sound.
I spotted him lurching toward the store entrance. The creature controlling him was young.
It couldn’t quite grasp the intricacies of the human body. As a result, Franklin moved with a dramatic and reckless gait.
It made him just slow enough to keep up with.
I ran down one of the aisles as Franklin hobbled his way through the sliding doors at the front of the store. I was only a few seconds behind. When I got outside, I saw him at the edge of the parking lot.
He turned down the street. His silhouette disappeared into the fog.
Faster! Don’t lose him!
I ran across the empty parking lot, following in Franklin’s footsteps, but by the time I got to the sidewalk, the fog had taken him. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small golden monocle.
Wardens were permitted to bring up to three relics of their choosing on any given mission. The three I chose were the mobile phone, the makeup kit, and the monocle.
The phone could make impossible calls, the makeup kit gave me a glamour that had already come in handy, even if it wasn’t perfect.
And now, the monocle would grant me the sight to see the way forward. I raised my eyebrow and slid the monocle into place. As I relaxed my face muscles, a faint red outline of a person appeared in the distance.
Impressive. It actually works.
The monocle was an ancient relic, created by a master craftsman from another universe in the Sprawl. The case file said that the craftsman created it as a way to prove to others that the things he was seeing were real.
I continued my pursuit at a slower pace, thanks to the monocle. The vague outline of Franklin turned toward a building in the distance.
The monocle only worked for a few moments of time before it lost its power. It needed to be in darkness to recharge.
I put it back into my coat pocket and headed towards Franklin’s last location. When I caught up to the end of his trail, I was standing outside the Anchor Inn. The peeling blue paint of the building’s exterior had seen better days.
There was no sign of him in the parking lot, so I made my way over to the office at the front. I let out a deep sigh as I reached for the door.
Sure enough, the second my hand felt the cool metal of the handle, memories assaulted my mind.
We come here to worship.
On your fucking knees!
Sharp pain in the neck.
Base of the skull.
Chittering.
Gnashing teeth.
Tentacles delving deeper.
Violation of the mind.
No longer yourself.
A witness.
To unspeakable acts.
I wrenched the door open and stepped inside. Standing at the hotel desk was Mabel Flores.
She bore witness to things that would leave many people in a catatonic state, but instead of shattering, her mind mercifully cracked, leaving her simple and kind, like the victim of a cosmic lobotomy. In a lot of ways, I envied her.
"Hello there, dearie! Welcome to the Anchor Inn!" Mabel said.
“Hi Mabel, it’s good to see you,” I said.
"Agent Phillips, right?" Mabel asked.
"Call me Reyna, please."
"Sure thing, Reyna it is then! Did the sheriff set you up with your room key?"
I nodded, brandishing the key for her to see. I underestimated the energy of that place. I felt an immense pressure on my stomach, one that brought on waves of intense nausea.
"Are you sure you're alright? You don't look so hot,” Mabel said.
I nodded. "I'll be fine. Just need to get some rest."
Mabel nodded. “Well, let me get you some fresh towels. Our housekeeper called out sick today.”
She turned around to grab some towels from the shelf behind the desk, and that’s when I saw it.
A lump on the back of her neck.
This is a trap.
Mabel turned back around with a pair of neatly folded white towels and smiled again.
“Do let me know if you need anything!”
I took the towels and forced a smile before hurrying out of the office. If I had come here first instead of going to Franklin’s hardware store, they would have had the jump on me.
I’m sure Franklin told them I was coming already. That’s how they all worked. The infected ones anyway.
Her beautiful family.
I looked down at the key in my hand. I didn’t have any other leads. I had to head to the room. I approached room 108 and used the key.
The door swung open into a small hall that led to an open space with a bed, a sliding glass door, a night stand, and a bathroom to my right.
It seemed empty.
“Franklin? Are you here?” I asked, shutting the door slowly behind me.
The monocle had been sitting in the darkness of my coat pocket for long enough. I pulled it out and slid it over my eye.
A red silhouette shimmered in the closet just ahead to my right.
“I can see you. Come out slowly.”
The closet slid open and a man stepped out, but it wasn’t Franklin. He was much younger. Closer to my age.
He wore a business suit with a black tie and held a half-finished bottle of whiskey in one hand. His other hand sported a pair of crystal drinking glasses.
He smiled through a well-kept beard and flipped his long hair back over his head to get it out of his face.
“Hey Reyna, long time no see.”
My words failed me. My breath hitched in my lungs. The monocle fell out of my eye, but I just barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground.
I threw it into my coat pocket. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
In another life, I called him my brother.
“Samuel. So, she sent you to do her dirty work? What’s with the whiskey?" I asked.
Samuel looked down at the glasses in his hands. “You always did drink the cheap shit. I figured you would hear me out if I bought drinks.”
You thought right.
“Pour them, but if you try anything…”
“I know, I know, you’ll rip out my spine or something horrific like that. Isn’t that what you Wardens do?” he asked.
What exactly does he think Wardens are?
He set down the glasses and turned away from me long enough for me to see the pulsating red lump on the back of his neck.
His was full grown, so it was larger. I saw hundreds of white tendrils that wormed their way into his brain just beneath the skin.
I felt a sting of pain on my own neck.
The same spot where mine used to be. Before I broke free.
Samuel shook his head slowly.
"We go way back, don't we Reyna?" Samuel asked.
He was in visible pain. I saw his jaw clench with every moment.
He’s resisting her influence, but why?
"Yeah Samuel, we do. We were both her spawns, connected by blood and stardust, but you were more of a brother to me than any of them ever were,” I said.
He extended one of the glasses with a shaking hand. I took it from him.
"That's why I'm here. I can't hold her back much longer. You got sloppy with that guy in the hardware store. You should have killed it. Now he’s broadcasting your location to everyone in a five-hundred mile radius.”
I took a sip of the whiskey and let it sit on my tongue. The burn was somehow comforting.
“Just tell me, is it her? Is she trying to perform the ritual again?” I asked.
Samuel took a drink of his whiskey. His head turned sharply to the right. He hissed like a snake. His resolve was weakening.
“She won’t let me tell you, but I can tell you this: he’s alive, Reyna.”
I dropped the glass of whiskey onto the ground. It hit the carpet with a dull thud and rolled away.
“That’s not possible. She killed him,” I said.
Samuel drank the last of his whiskey and threw the glass against the wall. He snarled like a rabid dog before clutching his head and screaming in pain.
“She hid him beneath the waves, Reyna! He’s the doorway! Everything that happened before was just preparation for the main event!” Samuel shouted.
I took a step back as I put the pieces together. Samuel stepped forward and wrapped his hand around my wrist. His thoughts flooded into me.
A father’s embrace.
The love you never knew.
Prisoner for eternity.
Hidden from view.
Not her song
That called to them
It was his.
A cry for help.
He let go as I stumbled backward.
“Father is alive?” I asked.
Samuel nodded, his face red as his veins bulged beneath the skin in his neck.
“She’s sending everyone to stop you,” he sputtered.
“What should I do?” I asked.
“You need to run, Reyna!”
Samuel collapsed onto his knees. The thing on the back of his neck had grown in size. I could see it swelling behind his neck.
“She knows you helped me Samuel! I can’t leave you, you know what she does to those who defy her!” I screamed.
Samuel pointed to the door behind me. “Don’t you dare try to help me, sister. Get out of here, now!”
If I left him, the man I once called brother would be subjected to a fate worse than death. An eternity of torment and suffering. Mother’s wrath was not to be trifled with.
On the other hand, if I left, I could get a head start. If my father was still alive, there was a chance to stop this.
And maybe, just maybe, a chance to kill this bitch once and for all.
Time to Decide
Your brother sacrificed everything to warn you. Will you repay the favor by saving him? Or, will you flee to save yourself?
Cast your vote below…
Thanks for Reading! Here’s Your Musical Pairing
Listen to this while you ponder the decision above.
I know this is reader's choice, but I was surprised by the decision to let that thing attack someone. It seemed a bit out of character for someone who knew first-hand the horrors of those things and was still haunted by the memories.