palette ranging between chalk and charcoal.
People. Endless, screaming, flailing people. A carpet of human beings without end, stretching away into infinity in all directions. Blindly pressed together amongst the accumulated filth of decades, starving and agonised, yet without death; crushed face-to-face, yet entirely alone in their own personal hell.
“Is that…?” Richard stammered.
“The Vanished,” Billy said. “The people from Before.”
“Trick.” Lucian’s voice had lost its gravelly edge and seemed on the brink of snapping. “It’s a trick. I’ll… I’ll kill you. I said no tricks.” He made a loose grab for Fol, but there was no fight left in him as though he had taken twenty rounds in a boxing ring.
Fol’s voice was gentle. “It’s no trick. Nobody should ever have to see this.” A brief pause. “But you’d never believe me otherwise.”
“It can’t be,” Richard said. His voice had devolved entirely to that of a child’s, his eyes wide and staring.
“It is,” Fol said.
Richard swallowed sharply.
Norman and Billy said nothing more. It seemed outrageous and almost funny, but the truth was the two of them had seen this enough. It was horrific, gut-wrenching, sure to haunt their dreams for the rest of their lives. But he didn’t disbelieve it one iota.
Before them writhed the last generation of the Old World, brought to this torturous purgatory.
Robert swept a long stare over the carpet of Vanished, then calmly turned back to Fol. “Tell us,” he said.
Norman’s throat tightened. Somehow, seeing the determination in those frank chocolate eyes hurt more than the sight of billions of screaming innocents.
He’s getting home even if he has to punch through the devil himself.
Richard, however, had started mewling. His hands reached up to his head, and he curled into a ball, not falling in this place without gravity, only turning in free fall, scrunched into a jittering foetal position. Tears dropped from his chin. “No, this can’t be happening. No, no, no, no…”
“I-I…” Lucian scowled. “This… No. This isn’t real.”
“It is real,” Fol said. “I promise you.”
“No, this is the same trick as before,” Lucian cried. His eyes grew wilder with each word. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’ll never get me with your mumbo jumbo, not like you got him.”
Him? Don’t crack on me now, Lucian. Don’t you dare , Norman thought desperately.
Fol sighed. Suddenly his facetious gleam had punctured yet again. An ancient fatigue shone through for an instant, and Norman’s skin rippled with some extra perception, one he had only before received from Billy.
He’s been waiting. Waiting for so long for this moment. For us.
“You have to listen to me,” he said quietly.
Lucian made another weak grab for him. “You won’t take any of us. You’ve already taken him away from me. I won’t let you do it again!”
Norman’s lips parted in shock for there were tears in Lucian’s eyes. Never, in all his life, had he seen Lucian shed a tear.
“Listen. Listen, now,” Fol said, his face draining of any remaining colour.
“No, no, no!” Richard wept without end.
“Lucian, stop,” Robert said. “There’s no time.”
“Please listen to me…” Fol uttered.
“I won’t be taken; I’ll fight you. I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” Lucian barked.
“No, no, no, no…”
“You took my brother, but you won’t take me!”
“ENOUGH!” Fol’s voice tore through them as though they were made of paper, a searing intensity so great he seemed ten times as large. For a brief moment looking at him was unbearable, like staring into the sun, and Norman glimpsed something else superimposed in Fol’s place: something elemental, beyond his comprehension. “I have waited too long for the time to be right. You people will listen to me now, or our last chance is gone. YOU WILL LISTEN !” His voice rose to a stentorian rumble, silencing any remnant
People. Endless, screaming, flailing people. A carpet of human beings without end, stretching away into infinity in all directions. Blindly pressed together amongst the accumulated filth of decades, starving and agonised, yet without death; crushed face-to-face, yet entirely alone in their own personal hell.
“Is that…?” Richard stammered.
“The Vanished,” Billy said. “The people from Before.”
“Trick.” Lucian’s voice had lost its gravelly edge and seemed on the brink of snapping. “It’s a trick. I’ll… I’ll kill you. I said no tricks.” He made a loose grab for Fol, but there was no fight left in him as though he had taken twenty rounds in a boxing ring.
Fol’s voice was gentle. “It’s no trick. Nobody should ever have to see this.” A brief pause. “But you’d never believe me otherwise.”
“It can’t be,” Richard said. His voice had devolved entirely to that of a child’s, his eyes wide and staring.
“It is,” Fol said.
Richard swallowed sharply.
Norman and Billy said nothing more. It seemed outrageous and almost funny, but the truth was the two of them had seen this enough. It was horrific, gut-wrenching, sure to haunt their dreams for the rest of their lives. But he didn’t disbelieve it one iota.
Before them writhed the last generation of the Old World, brought to this torturous purgatory.
Robert swept a long stare over the carpet of Vanished, then calmly turned back to Fol. “Tell us,” he said.
Norman’s throat tightened. Somehow, seeing the determination in those frank chocolate eyes hurt more than the sight of billions of screaming innocents.
He’s getting home even if he has to punch through the devil himself.
Richard, however, had started mewling. His hands reached up to his head, and he curled into a ball, not falling in this place without gravity, only turning in free fall, scrunched into a jittering foetal position. Tears dropped from his chin. “No, this can’t be happening. No, no, no, no…”
“I-I…” Lucian scowled. “This… No. This isn’t real.”
“It is real,” Fol said. “I promise you.”
“No, this is the same trick as before,” Lucian cried. His eyes grew wilder with each word. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’ll never get me with your mumbo jumbo, not like you got him.”
Him? Don’t crack on me now, Lucian. Don’t you dare , Norman thought desperately.
Fol sighed. Suddenly his facetious gleam had punctured yet again. An ancient fatigue shone through for an instant, and Norman’s skin rippled with some extra perception, one he had only before received from Billy.
He’s been waiting. Waiting for so long for this moment. For us.
“You have to listen to me,” he said quietly.
Lucian made another weak grab for him. “You won’t take any of us. You’ve already taken him away from me. I won’t let you do it again!”
Norman’s lips parted in shock for there were tears in Lucian’s eyes. Never, in all his life, had he seen Lucian shed a tear.
“Listen. Listen, now,” Fol said, his face draining of any remaining colour.
“No, no, no!” Richard wept without end.
“Lucian, stop,” Robert said. “There’s no time.”
“Please listen to me…” Fol uttered.
“I won’t be taken; I’ll fight you. I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” Lucian barked.
“No, no, no, no…”
“You took my brother, but you won’t take me!”
“ENOUGH!” Fol’s voice tore through them as though they were made of paper, a searing intensity so great he seemed ten times as large. For a brief moment looking at him was unbearable, like staring into the sun, and Norman glimpsed something else superimposed in Fol’s place: something elemental, beyond his comprehension. “I have waited too long for the time to be right. You people will listen to me now, or our last chance is gone. YOU WILL LISTEN !” His voice rose to a stentorian rumble, silencing any remnant
Similar Books
