“When the light dies, the beasts remember the way.”
Chapter Thirty-Five: Ominous Smiles
“Some truths are dressed as riddles, waiting for the courage to be believed.” --
The afternoon light filtered through Starbucks’ wide windows, casting fractured beams across tabletops. Brett sat opposite Lauryn, hands wrapped around a steaming cup, though his mind was far from the comfort of coffee.
“What I really need right now,” he muttered, “besides this coffee, is a lawyer.”
part 7 - the wall
Lauryn tilted her head, lips curling mischievously. “The Laws of Men is not the same as the Laws of the Universe.”
Brett blinked. “What the heck does that mean?”
Her laugh was light, disarming. “Nothing. I’ve always wanted to say it. Sounds ominous, doesn’t it?”
He found himself staring, not at the absurdity of her words, but at the brightness of her smile. “You’re crazy.”
“No,” she said, leaning forward, her voice soft but steady. “I’m special.”
Her eyes locked on his, unflinching, almost hypnotic. “We all have a purpose. Deep down, we know it. Most people ignore it. But it’s there. Always.”
Brett’s throat tightened. “Then why did you come into my life?”
Lauryn liked the sound of that. Come into my life. Her cheeks warmed, and she hid behind a sip of coffee before whispering: “Because I know I’m supposed to be here. With you. In your life.”
Chapter Thirty-Six: Paper Trails
“Every lie leaves footprints, even if it takes years to find them.”
At the police station, the fax machine whirred with relentless energy. Detective Manning yanked free the next page: a grainy photo of the carved wall, grotesque faces frozen in wood. Beneath it, a headline: Cult Couple Cut to Shreds in Cul-de-Sac — Child Unharmed.
part 7 - the wall
Another page followed: Eight-Year-Old Under Suspicion for Grisly Murder of Parents. The name circled in black ink — Brett Mauer. In the margin, a scrawled note: Mauer name changed to Parker.
Manning’s jaw tightened. The machine fed out another page, and another — clippings of tragedy and suspicion stapled to a single life.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Stars and Shadows
“Even in the darkest nights, some children find their eyes fixed on the stars.”
Back at Starbucks, Lauryn studied Brett with gentle curiosity. “How did you get into astronomy and physics?”
The words landed heavy. Brett inhaled slowly, exhaling as though pushing away ghosts. “My parents were murdered when I was eight. I found them. In the dark.”
His gaze drifted toward the window, but his voice pressed on. “My foster family loved the stars. They’d take me outside at night with a cheap telescope. I’d hold their hands and stare into the heavens. I was hooked.”
Lauryn’s eyes softened. “And the Parkers?”
“They adopted me weeks before my eighteenth birthday. I took their name.” His lips thinned. “They moved away. I never heard from them again.”
Her brow furrowed. “Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Suicide Notes
“The dead leave whispers; it is the living who choose to listen.”
The fax machine spat another grim page. A coroner’s report.
Robert and Marjorie Parker. Cause of death: drug overdose. Apparent double suicide.
Another margin note: Adopted Brett Mauer four weeks before death.
part 7 - the wall
Manning exhaled hard, rubbing his temple. His office stank of ink, paper, and disillusionment. He slammed the drawer closed, silencing the rattle of a silver flask.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Wall Remembered
“What a child sees in terror will outlive the man he becomes.”
Lauryn’s voice was hushed now. “Did you have happy memories of your real parents?”
Brett hesitated. “Faces blur. Visitors, always visitors. But I remember… the wall. A room with a wooden wall, carved with figures — animals, people, the sun. Over and over.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Like a sequence?”
“No,” he said slowly, dread pooling in his stomach. “Like an event. A ritual.”
He looked up—and froze.
The café’s customers stared at him. Blank expressions. Eyes black as coal.
A young woman with her child. An elderly lady with a poodle. Students. Workers. All of them.
Staring.
The world constricted. His throat closed.
“Brett?” Lauryn’s voice broke through. “What’s wrong?”
He blinked. The spell shattered. Customers returned to normal, chatting, sipping, laughing.
Lauryn tilted her head. “What did you see?”
“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just… people.”
But his hands shook as he lifted the cup again.
Chapter Forty: Gatekeepers of the Wall
“Every wall hides a door, and every door a choice.”
The fax pile grew into an inch-thick stack. Manning thumbed through until he found the one marked with Homeland Security’s seal.
Shadow Hüter der Wand zwischen den Welten.
The note read: Non-threat. Benign fantasy group.
Manning dialed the number. A gravelly voice answered: “Agent Rider.”
Manning cleared his throat. “About the Shadow Warriors. You classified them harmless?”
Rider chuckled. “After 9/11, we reclassified thousands of fringe groups. They claimed to keep the world safe by shining light on the shadows. Typical end-times freaks.”
Manning’s grip tightened. “And the Mauers? The Parkers?”
“They defected. Went off-grid. Dead now.” Rider’s tone was final. “Anything else, Detective?”
Manning hung up, unease gnawing at him.
Chapter Forty-One: Between Light and Dark
“The greatest battles are fought not outside, but within.”
Lauryn reached for Brett’s hand across the café table. “Somewhere in your head, there’s a key. Let me help.”
Brett pulled back, shaking his head. “Lauryn, I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in séances and spirits.”
Her eyes hardened. “What you don’t know can fuck you up. And you know it.”
He had no answer.
Chapter Forty-Two: A Doctor’s Denial
“Denial wears a smile sharper than any knife.”
At her office, Dr. Richards looked up as Manning entered. He laid photos on her desk — Brett’s parents, their bodies torn.
She gasped, shoved them back. “I don’t treat psychotic killers.”
“But what if you did?” he pressed.
Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t suspect Brett Parker.”
“I sure can,” Manning said.
Her lips curled into a smirk. “Then you’ve come for perspective. Here it is: he’s troubled, but not a killer. You should be more worried about yourself, Detective. How long have you been sober?”
Manning froze, sweat beading.
Her smile deepened, smug and victorious.
Chapter Forty-Three: Storm’s Edge
“The wind carries warnings, if only we listen.”
Dusk gathered as Lauryn drove Brett home. An unmarked cruiser idled across the street. Detectives Tooms and Sanjay watched silently.
Brett swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I feel safer… or just harassed.”
Lauryn squeezed his hand. “There’s freedom in being strange.”
He smiled faintly. “You mean… special.”
Chapter Forty-Four: Candles in the Dark
“Light is a fragile thing, and shadows always wait for it to fail.”
Inside, every lamp in Brett’s home blazed. He and Lauryn drank beer on the sofa, shoulders brushing, words few but connection undeniable.
Lauryn’s smile wavered as she looked at him sleeping. “Don’t do it, Lauryn. Don’t…” She hesitated, then pulled her tarot cards, candles, incense. She lit them, forming a circle.
The remote slipped, doused in beer. She wiped it, pressed OFF.
Every light in the house died. Only candles flickered.
Chapter Forty-Five: The Circle Breaks
Outside, Tooms and Sanjay saw the silhouette in the yard. Guns drawn, they moved toward the house.
Inside, Lauryn’s body convulsed, trance pulling her deeper. Images flashed — Brett as a child, the wall, blood, shadows, galaxies colliding.
Her scream split the night. Brett woke to find her collapsed, whispering, “Stay… in the light. It will come…”
part 7 - the wall
He pressed the remote. Sparks. Nothing. Growls rose in the darkness.
The front door exploded open, flashlights cutting beams into the room.
But shadows moved faster. Sanjay was ripped away, his screams drowned by tearing flesh. Tooms fired wildly, bullets lost in the void, before the dark swallowed him whole.
Brett snatched the flashlight, scooped Lauryn into his arms, and ran.
He crashed through the front door as shadows lunged.
Chapter Forty-Six: Flight from the Darkness
They tumbled onto the lawn, breathless, bruised, but alive beneath the glow of the streetlights.
Behind them, the house roared with screams — human and not.
Brett shoved Lauryn into the unmarked car, hands shaking as he slammed the accelerator. Tires screeched, headlights flared, and the house shrank in the rearview mirror, consumed by shadows.
The night swallowed their past. Ahead, only uncertainty.
Comments
Post a Comment