Window Shopping: Kingdom Without a King- Part 8

The dead man that was Anton Allaine stumbled towards Praesus and I with an otherworldly hunger. Someone had stripped him of his regal armor. Altogether, what was left of him was minimal. His flesh had a dim gray tinge, most of his chest was covered with blood. The only clue to who it belonged was the fact that there was so much of it, that I was certain it had come from multiple sources. In addition to the crimson liquid that seemed to be everywhere, Anton Allaine had apparently had his clothing nearly torn to shreds. It gave him the appearance of a long dead corpse, one who’s funeral suit had been eaten away by earthworms, insects and time under the ground.

Though his body gave the impression of one who had passed over to the other side, Anton’s face held a much different look. If you were able somehow see past the glowing green eyes, you might have noticed Anton’s lips. They were dry and thin, and his teeth seemed to be trying to push them out if the way, with his tongue in tow.

As Praesus and I took in the sight, Asta spoke to me specifically, “I am going to let my brother into your cell. One of two things will happen: You will either cure him. Or he will kill you.”

Praesus gave me a tainted glance. I held up a dismissive hand.

One of Asta’s guards swung open our cell’s door. The other prodded Anton to enter. Both of them regarded Anton with an equal mixture of terror and revulsion, they only went as close as they needed.  

Anton entered slowly at first, but as he got closer he must’ve sensed or smelled us somehow. His sleepwalking shuffle turned more urgent. And along with it, those teeth, pinned down by only his narrow lips began to search by snapping in our general direction.

Asta signaled the guards to shut the door, they quickly and gladly obliged her. Anton, or what Anton had become rather, in large part to me, was getting closer, teeth bared and making indicative guttural sounds in our direction.

Calmly, Praesus looked at me, “What are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Now isn’t the time for jokin’ squire. Change the man back!”

My attention bounded from Praesus to Anton’s reanimated corpse, “I can’t do that…”

“What?” Praesus was now backing up, heading towards the rear of the cell.

“I mean, I dunno what I mean.This is all new to me.” I focused, tried to concentrate and see if my powers to bring the dead back to life might include the ability to reverse what I had done, and restore Anton’s humanity.
I reached out with my mind to Anton’s corpse. On some other plane, I saw my thoughts travelling towards him. My will itself flowed from me in a bright green arc, like a tornado crossing over a water’s surface. Then I thought of emptying a colored liquid into a glass of plain water. My will to control this man went from me like a green fountain, crossed the small cell and found him. It enveloped him, catching him up in a green swirling mist. I glanced back at Praesus who was in fact watching intently, but by his eyes I could tell he was not seeing what I was. The guards, and Asta herself, peered intently from outside the cell, but again I could tell they were not seeing this fantasm of power that I was.

Quickly, I swung my gaze back to Anton, the green array had all but subsided, and as it did, it evaporated into nothing- that being if it ever was actually anything to begin with.  

Anton was still. He had stopped with the growls and was standing as still as you would have expected, that is, from any normal dead man.

After several moments, I approached him. Although, I had no idea what I was going to do, or even look for once I reached him. Anton stood, back to the cell door, his eyes locked on mine.

Asta cried out to her brother. Anton didn’t respond, but he heaved slightly forward at his waist, and held up an arm, with his forefinger raised. It was if he were indicating he needed just a moment.

“Anton!” Asta, threw herself at the bars. Anton dropped his arm, as he simultaneously dropped to his knees. “He’s back, he’s hurting, let me in there!”

Oddly, the guards looked at me before making a move. “Let me in there now dammit!” Asta’s voice tore through the small space. This broke the guard’s hesitation and they scrambled, opening the door as quickly as they could.

“Anton, by Eve! You’re back! you’re okay!” Asta flew to him, throwing her arms around her brother’s shoulders. When this occurred Anton returned her embrace, the only difference was Anton grabbed Asta’s slender wrist, and then promptly placed it between his teeth.

Yelling to Anton, I said, “No! Don’t you bite down you sunovabitch!” I dashed towards Asta Allaine and her dead brother. Anton turned her around to face me, as he gripped her, teeth ready to meet flesh. I knelt next to her, and whispered in her ear. I told her how I had the events in the courtyard led to Anton’s death. I told her how all we wanted to do was escape. I told her how I had coerced her to get into this cell. I finished by saying, “All it took was a little hope.”

No longer at the back of the cell, Praesus was now standing at it’s doorway, looking over the battered bodies of the two guards. He stared at his knuckles, now covered in blood, “Cursed...”

Window Shopping Part I

I hadn’t even noticed it when I walked through the house for the first time. I was too distracted by the old world charm, rustic build and the dark, cherry hardwood floors. Maybe that’s materialistic of me, but if it’s any consolation I regret not looking deeper. I regret that a lot.

It wasn’t until I was getting moved in that I first saw it. And to make matters worse it was after a couple (five) glasses of wine, which ebbed my doubt. I mean don’t get me wrong- I would have been skeptical otherwise, I mean who could simply accept the fact that they discovered a gateway into another world?

That’s what it is right? Like I’m in another dimension? Something like that?

Anyway, I first saw it when I began taking empty boxes to the basement. Well it’s more of a cellar really, mud and stone walls. They told me it had been built in 1856- the house I mean- who knows about the cellar, probably nearly as old if not the same age.

But I had a box of my old toys- a box my mother had insisted I take...Nevermind, you don’t want to hear about that, I’m sure. I was taking this box downstairs to store, when I noticed it for the first time. There was-is, in my world, I guess a sort of dividing wall. Thinking about it now, I’m surprised I didn’t notice it before. I mean it’s right smack dab in the middle of the room. It runs floor to ceiling, and cuts the middle portion if the room in two. It’s the damndest thing when you see it. You wonder; Just what the f-hell--heck were they thinking putting this thing here, ya know?

But umm, I sat the box down on the floor, impressed with myself that I had also carried my wine glass down the stairs at the same time by balancing it on top of the box.

I noticed the dividing wall, it was just sort of there...Dim yellow-grey stone, aged from years of damp, and it looked like the darkness of the basement had seeped into it along with the elements. I retrieved my wine glass and walked around the wall, studying it along the way. It was fine on the side facing the steps leading into the downstairs; normal stone, coarse to the touch and earthy to the nose. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The back of the wall though- that was a different story entirely. You see- and you might know this already- I’m not sure, but there was a window.

Yes that’s right- a damned window sitting on a wall in the middle of a room, down in my basement!

Through the glass I could see a landscape. It looked like one of those sepia scenes of the shoreline in some east coast state, like South Carolina. There was sloped sand and surf and tufts of long lazy grass. An open sky beckoned to me.

At first I thought it was a picture or a painting, but then the grass swayed from the wind off the coast. I thought I was losing it, but when I got closer to the supposed picture I could actually hear the wind coming off the waves and cutting across the sand, the waves rolling into the shore.

My right hand opened without my knowing and the glass of wine went crashing to the unfinished floor. I gave it no thought in that moment(even stepping over it later). Unconsciously, that same hand went to the window, instinctively going for a small wooden knob on the side. Of course I did, I couldn’t resist you see? My inhibitions being lowered, my sense of danger dulled. That coupled with my curiosity was the catalyst for all of this.

I stood there, swaying from my drunkenness, my brain bobbing and swimming in irrational thoughts and wine. I sized up the window. It was only about 120 square inches, far from the size I would need to crawl through, let alone walk through. But I wanted very much to go through that opening, to see the beach, to touch the water. In fact the sensation to do so was near overpowering. I stared at the window, and longed to be on the other side, I was mesmerized at the possibility.

My mind cycled through ways by which I could deliver my fixation. Eyes darted from corner to grimey corner of the basement, looking for a particular tool. I yearned to transport myself unto my current mania.

In the final corner of the cellar I saw it. A rusted sledgehammer sat propped up on its head. Barefeet plodded across the dusty floor, greedily I groped for the hammer.  I lifted it and smiled, I couldn’t see my face, but imagine my grin was a cross between lunacy and satisfaction.

I turned to face that wall with the inexplicable window, and I swung, my body powered by a force that was both unsettling and unknown. The first swing cracked the thin glass pane, the second shattered the wooden frame. The third swing was the slightly rusted hammer meeting stone, and I was frightened for a moment that the hammer’s head would be dislodged from its worn handle and fly across the cellar.

Instead the hammer held together, and it was the stone that gave way. A small chunk crumpled at first; the lip-like sill below the window disintegrating. I reeled back again, sweating now from compulsion, letting loose with blow after blow as the stones did the same.

How many times I had to bring that hammer down, I do not know. But when I let the hammer fall for the final time I was breathless. In front of me was now a near-man sized hole. I could now not only see the beach, but feel it’s wind actually enter the basement. It was cool, much more frigid than the stuffy cellar and quick to cool the sweat on my brow, and chill my bare feet.

After surveying my work for the better part of a minute, I felt a driving thought cut through my mind, as if another person was yelling at me from inside my own mind.

That voice within the within screamed a question in warning; What are you doing?

I crouched and stepped through the newly created threshold…

TO BE CONTINUED!