Window Shopping Part 6

The ride to Praesus’ compound was a rough one, my head lobbed harshly as my neck struggled to control the constant jolting. On the plus side, I was given a spectacular view of the countryside from my abstract angle.

When we stopped, the man who had apprehended me, ripped me from the horse after dismounting himself. For him, the act was accomplished with little exerted force. However, I hit the ground with much more of it than I’d have liked. I looked around, but didn’t see where Praesus or the other men might’ve went.

As I wobbled to my feet, hands still clasped, the man looked at me, kneeling slightly. “You didn’t squawk on the way here, so can I trust you to walk?”

I eyed him, saw no firearms, at least none that were visible. Instead, I now noted he carried a leather quiver and simple recurve bow upon his back. The fletching of his many arrows could be seen plainly due to his lowered posture. “Ya, don’t suppose you’ll tell me why I’m here?”

The man smirked, ran a calloused hand through a beard that was just shorter than the one Praesus wore. “Well, one of two things; either you’ll cooperate...”

I notched my eyebrows in waiting.

“Or you’ll die…now walk.” he pointed ahead of him, just past a sandstone wall that was taller than two men. There was a small archway ahead of us, I entered and he followed.

I turned to see two men operating a large sliding door via a pulley system. It was a creaking hunk of wood, but it was massive. In seconds the entrance was blocked.

As I placed one foot in front of the other, I wondered to myself. Wondered about what this was, where this was. But mostly, I wondered about why I wasn’t at all afraid. I had been transported, accosted, captured ineptly, captured expertly, and now threatened. Through none of this, save for my interaction with Old Rufus, could I recall being frightened one bit. Which, now as I contemplated this fact, made it all the more odd. The one thing I was frightened of here ended up being thus far, the friendliest creature towards me.

We continued to walk and I saw just how much more “advanced” Praesus’ compound was than where Helena and Thaddeus called home. There were turrets manned by more archers at each corner, they cut into the evening sky. The two most distant spires cut imposing shadows of black against an orange-pink sky. In the center of the yard was the main building, it had two posted sentries flanking a large double door. There were no windows.

I began to veer towards it when the man behind me shouted, “Nope, not our destination, keep going.”

I returned to my path, and we walked to the very back of the compound. In the fading light of day we stopped. I saw nothing. “So what? I don’t see where we are going?”

“Right,” the man said sourly, while pointing.

I turned, now making out a faint outline in the dirt. I could see a handle sticking up as well. I looked back at my captor.

He nodded, so I pulled on the handle, doing my best to balance and use the needed strength to get the hatch open while my hands were tied.

“Down.”

I peered into darkness, thought that I could barely make out steps as the last bit of daylight retreated from the sky. Doubtful, I hesitated.

“C’mon, now you’ve done so well up until now. Don’t make me throw you down them.”

I marched ahead placing my hands against the wall to steady, with no small amount of trepidation, my feet felt out where to land. Slow, as we went, I could hear the soldier’s boots clapping on the stone behind me. I was wary, but as I made my way down the curved staircase, I could see the everglowing sign of a torchlight. The dim orange light reminded me of the setting sun in reverse, and before I knew it I found the staircase opening up into a large room.

There were thick pillars running floor to ceiling in each corner, the massive individual stones could be made out despite their age.  In front of each of these were metal stands, each containing a lit torch. The flames made the room warm, but the smoke was escaping to somewhere. I frowned a bit at the thought of escape.  I couldn’t quite place why the thought forced a frown.

“Thank you Draeus, stay close, but you may leave him.” My captor nodded at the silhouette which strode towards me from the far side of the room. It was quite obviously Praesus.

He addressed me, his already commanding voice boomed even more within the chamber. “I don’t have time to mince words, so I’ll make this short.” he had removed his duster and battle garments from the waist up, and had on only a rough chambray shirt and trousers. His right hand was behind his back, and his left hand held a large dagger upright, making certain I could see it plainly.

Praesus walked towards me stepping in and out of the firelight as he walked in front of three large cylinder shapes spaced equally in the centerline of the room. They were large, about ten feet by three feet wide, and they were draped in separate long, purple cloths that each spilled over just slightly onto the floor in front of them.

“This world is doomed. We are out of resources, our food, water are nearly gone, diminished by a combination of cataclysmic floods and fires,” Praesus nodded his head and smirked, “But I suspect you already had knowledge of that. Therefore, I need you to open them, make them work so my people and I can escape.”

“Make what work?”

“The windows,” Praesus neared the last cylinder- closest to me- and yanked the purple cover off the shape, it billowed to the floor.  

There before me was my basement.

Well not my basement exactly, on the revealed stone cylinder hung a window, much like the one I had stepped through hours ago.  A neat little scene showed my basement.

I smiled, but then forced the look from my face. “I’m afraid you got the wrong guy. I don’t know how they work.”

Praesus seemed not to hear, and instead of responding he about-faced, and walking briskly back across the room, tore the remaining two purple shrouds from the cylinders. With the dagger, he motioned me to join him.

“Stop,” he said when I reached the second cylinder, “Is that your world?”

I looked, and saw a second window. This one’s scene showed a snow covered place. I saw no signs of life in the small view I was offered.

“Hmm, I didn’t think so, surprise in your eyes. Come to the last portal.”

I did as instructed, the last view was pitch black and I immediately noticed that the window, and its glass had been scarred by a large slash across its facade. The frame formed a gaping maw, severe teeth had been made by the jagged glass.

“Make it work.”

“You’re not listening to me. I am here completely by accident.”

Praesus flashed the dagger, “The first portal is your origin?”

I didn’t speak and yet he knew.

“Walk to it.” Praesus grabbed my hand and pushed me back to the other side of the room.  When we stopped he asked, “If one steps through, can one come back?”

“I don’t know.”

Praesus growled, “Stop the lies, open it.” He used the dagger to free my hands.

Dagger now at my throat, my hand reached for a copper latch. Then we heard another growl, this one not from Praesus. It was immediately followed by a howl.

The latter was human, the former was not.

Praesus looked to the darkened stairwell, “Draes?”

At first, Praesus began walking towards the dim stairs alone. He reconsidered, and instead grabbed me by the arm once more, dragging me behind him.

Praesus peered into the darkness. Then the darkness leapt at him.

The dog that Helen had referred to as “Old Rufus” appeared as an extension of the shadows. He growled, knocking Praesus to the ground. The dagger clattered to the floor. Wrenching my hand free I scrambled trying to retrieve the weapon.  

Now looking more ferocious than I remembered, Old Rufus sunk his teeth into Praesus’ flesh, gripping the very hand the man had first tried to strike him with. Praesus writhed on the floor, grunting but not screaming.

I scooped up the dagger and ran to “my” window. The latch was just out of reach as I heard a yelp and a man scream No in dramatic succession.

Before I could step through, a heavy hand clapped my shoulder and wrenched me backwards. The momentum caused me to reel sideways, and I somersaulted across the floor, losing the dagger. I stood in time to see Praesus rush towards me, there was nothing I could do, the man collided with me, and then forced a quick knee into my gut. Gleeful to the point that his voice raised an octave, he screamed, “Not so fast.” He pressed me up against the window, and I felt cold numbing my back. “We’ll just see what happens when someone goes through this portal.”

I tried to wrestle free, but he was so much stronger. He bent me to his will with two rapid punches to the temple. Quickly, stars rushed into my field of vision, obscuring most everything else. As I attempted to dodge, the last thing I saw was the still outline of Old Rufus. This frightened me.

I held up feeble hands in a last ditch effort to fend off Praesus. I swung once, twice, three times. Not only missing, but not knowing how close I was to even hitting the man.

Praesus punched me again in the stomach and I crumbled to the floor trying to will the breath back into my body.

Then my eyes hinted at a large shape looming before me. I heard the window’s latch being opened.

I couldn’t gather the strength to get up. I was finished. At this rate Praesus would just toss me into the frozen wasteland I had previewed earlier, and watch as I succumbed to the cold.

I began to try and crawl away, Praesus seized my legs.

I looked back, my vision clearing enough to see the man had given up some of his balance in order to grab me. He was leaning forward, right in front of the open window. I could feel a bitter and frozen wind swirling around the room, the torchlights reacting hysterically, swaying wildly and then going out.

Just as my vision returned, the room went black. I heard another growl and then a heavy thump onto a pad of nearby snow. The window banged shut, stopping the freezing wind instantly.

There I sat in the dark knowing that Old Rufus had sacrificed himself for me. I sat knowing that I had traveled to another world, or dimension or something. I sat knowing I needed, wanted to get home. I also sat knowing that I could explain none of what happened rationally.

But I was not frightened for myself. I was frightened for Old Rufus.

I stood slowly, carefully plodding to the first window, my window. My right foot scraped past the handle of the dagger. I picked it up. It didn’t feel as big in my hand as I might’ve thought it would. I felt along the floor until I was at the window that had moments ago shown my basement, my home. I hoped even in the dark it was still there.

I reached for the latch, and inexplicably the torches came back to life. Suddenly, the room was alight with fire once more. I saw my basement, the gateway that would bring me back home, back to normalcy.

I began to open the window’s clasp.

I sighed, as I pushed it shut, fastening it back into place. I was rewarded briefly with a hint of that earthy-wet smell, of which every basement carries a slight odor.

I sighed again as I grabbed the nearest purple cloths. I was still sighing as I fashioned it into a makeshift robe, tying it off around me when I was finished. I even had the forethought to search out Draeus' corpse at the top of the stairwell, and made use of his boots. Through the window the snow had not looked inviting to my bare feet.

I was done sighing when I returned to the middle window. Even closed, I could still feel the frosty wind trying to assault me. I opened the latch and stepped through.

THE END?

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!