Whispers Through the Veil of Being E-Book

Aleksi Karvonen

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 418

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

A three-part psychological / philosophical / weird horror story in style of Lovecraft, Ligotti and King. There's not really a short and concise way to describe this work in a manner that would explain it with any semblance of accuracy - one just has to read it. As is usually the case with tales from the unconscious, there's no telling where they originate from. The stories exist as things-in-themselves, and it's up to the author to attempt to write them down in, at least, semi-coherent manner so that others may understand them. The quality may vary depending on the author and his motivations - I can only state that my intentions were sincere. I did my best, my motivations were pure and I did not lie, but in the end it's up to the reader to assess the level of authenticity and technical expertise of any work of fiction. As mentioned in the beginning, this story, or stories, are of horror and horrific in nature. They might not be what you expect, especially if you expect mere ghosts and goblins. There's neither of them here. Only Man and the Truth of Being. -A.K

Leseprobe

Whispers Through the Veil of Being

Contents & Author's NoteThe Teacher Part I: Whispers Through the Veil of BeingThe Teacher Part II: A Wailing WhitendThe Teacher Part III: The Leaking VeilThe Teacher Part IV: In Search for the PastThe Teacher Part V: Scratching the SurfaceThe Teacher Part VI: Beneath the SurfaceThe Teacher Part VII: Facing the Vistas of EmptinessThe Teacher Part VIII: A Soothe of DistractionThe Teacher Part IX: Friday MorningThe Teacher Part X: Friday EveningThe Teacher Epilogue I: The Facade of ExistenceThe Teacher Epilogue II: The WardThe Teacher Epilogue III: The Final PagesThe Man Part I: The ManThe Man Part II: The Older ManThe Man Part III: The FigureThe Man Part IV: The Wise ManThe Man Part V: The ConversationsThe Man Part VI: The CenterThe Man Epilogue: The PainThe Island Part I: Innumerable Manifestations of TruthThe Island Part II: The Early TruthologistsThe Island Part III: Ailments of RevealmentThe Island Part IV: Collateral Effects of UnderstandingThe Island Part V: Blessings of DistractionThe Island Part VI: Formulation Against the ImpossibleThe Island Part VII: The Subjective Sense of IThe Island Part VIII: A Spiraling Descent Through the IllusionsThe Island Part IX: Phenomenology of TruthThe Island Epilogue I: The RevelationThe Island Epilogue II: The ConsequencesCopyright

Contents & Author's Note

*

Teacher

Facade of Existence: Veil of Being I

Man

Futility of Rebellion: Interlude

Island

Phenomenology of Truth: Veil of Being II

*

Author's note:

This was meant to be a real book.

The Teacher Part I: Whispers Through the Veil of Being

*

Part I: Whispers Through the Veil of Being

*

Lochson was sitting at his desk, reading a book in silence. The book covered a considerable portion of french history, beginning from the revolution, then ending in Napoleon's failed conquest of Russia and his subsequent exile to the island of Saint Helena. The book was well-written but heavy reading, so he was deep in thought when he heard the sound. He paid no mind to it at first – only after second time, when it seemed to emanate directly above him, he felt the need to turn his head up in search of it. There was nothing, of course, but when the sound repeated itself for the third time - behind him this time - he closed the book and stood up. He felt deeply distressed for no apparent reason. The sound seemed familiar somehow, as if he'd heard it before but hadn't paid attention to it. He tried searching his memory for previous occurrences of it but found nothing. Only a disquieting, clear clarity of his mind being aware of its own self at this very moment filled his consciousness. He sat down and tried to concentrate on the book once more, but the attempt proved in vain.

*

Lochson stared at the tree outside through the kitchen window. At least there's no ravens this time. The storm must've chased them off. He turned around, drank the last of the coffee from his cup and noticed it cold already. For how long I've been standing here? He glanced at the livingroom clock through the doorway. The old clock was hidden in shadows, but he guessed the time at least midnight.

  He put the cup down, next to the other dirty dishes, and walked into the bathroom. He approached the sink, thinking he'd only wash his face and then retire for the night. As he turned the faucet on he felt his eyes forced to glimpse the mirror. He quickly averted his gaze and turned to leave, but then noticed the razor he was holding. He put it down and left the bathroom, making sure the door clicked shut. 

*

As the harsh rays of the morning sun woke Lochson he felt fatigued, unsure whether he'd fallen asleep during the night at all. He got up and, with stumbling legs, walked to the window to shut the blinds. Didn't I make sure they were shut? After shutting the blinds he clothed himself and walked to the kitchen, intending to make coffee. The cabinets were empty. Great, just what I needed.

  Lochson though about skipping the day, but then decided to muster the strength - It's the last day after all.Perhaps I can make it. He walked to the hallway, put on his shoes and exited the apartment.

  He made his way down the stairs and stepped outside through the double-doors of the apartment complex. They were left hanging ajar as he walked away, and for some reason this felt hilarious for Lochson. Just like my mind these days. Always hanging ajar, not keeping anything in. He found his car from the parking lot and headed for the school.

*

The day passed in a typical, clouded haze. Lochson didn't pay much attention what he was doing or lecturing during the classes. It didn't matter much these days, as the children never listened to him anyway and even less cared.

  Lochson suddenly found himself in a room especially familiar to him - it was the one where he teaches history, and it was usually the last lecture of the day. He was already thinking himself out of the school when he heard a voice, different from the others. It was one of the girls, and even though the room was in full cacophony as usual, this one got his attention;

"Are you alright Mr. Lochson?"

The girl's voice was the usual high and cheerful, full of youthful energy, but now with a hint of genuine worry. It was that hint that got his attention. He answered to the girl;

"Yes... I- Sorry. What was I saying before?"

"You were telling us about Napoleon and his conquest to Russia but then... "

"Yes, yes. Sorry about that. I didn't sleep well last night."

Lochson made a poor attempt at smiling and continued his lecture – if only for the sake of this singular girl who had paid attention to his ramblings. A thought occurred to him;If not for her I might've killed myself already.

*

The bell rang and the children began rushing out. Lochson looked about the now empty classroom – then his eyes happened upon the girl who was still sitting at her place. Lochson asked, confused as to why the girl hadn't followed the other children out;

"Why are you still here?"

The girl was a little shy, as usual, unsure what to say. She looked outside, to the yard, where the other kids were running towards the bus-stop. She looked back and said;

"You... you're a good teacher. Not like the others who..."

She turned her head away again and continued;

"But something's not right, is it? What's wrong?"

Lochson tried to smile but knew his face must've looked horrible with those sullen, tired eyes, messy hair and hazy gaze. He hadn't showered in weeks. It's not like he hadn't wanted to, he simply couldn't muster the strength for it. Every ounce of his will was used to getting up in the mornings and dragging himself to work. The girl persisted;

"Have you talked about your problems to anyone? The school counselor might listen..."

I don't have time nor strength for this.Lochson cut her short;

"Look, Yen. It's nothing, trust me. You should go run with the other kids now. The school is over, summer is here."

The girl was about to say something more, but sensed the conversation going nowhere. She put her books into her bag and walked out the classroom, sighing in resignation.

*

Lochson slumped into his teacher’s chair eyes closed and rubbed his forehead. He was shaking with cold tremors.How much longer can I take this?He reached for his backpack and, after searching for a few moments, found his Walkman. He put the headphones to his ears and turned the volume up to near maximum. Rob Halford offered some semblance of peace, and Lochson stood up to leave this wretched place some called school.

*

As he walked out the front doors some of the other teachers were standing there, next to the smoking area, gossiping. One of them glanced at Lochson's direction but paid no further attention.I can smell the contempt emanating from them like dark cloud. Lochson wondered how he still had this job and whether he still would have it after the summer.Not that it matters much.He continued walking. 

*

When he got to his car he noticed it had been sabotaged - the tire being poked through, a screwdriver sticking out the puncture as an obvious insult. He didn't know who'd done it but didn't really care. It could've been any one of them. He looked around, more out of habit than actually thinking he could spot anyone - and sure enough the parking lot was empty. Lochson sighed, turned around and started walking away from the car, not even bothering to remove the screwdriver.

*

The distance to his apartment wasn't that long, only a few kilometers, but it felt longer now without a car. Lochson rarely walked the commute, instead preferring to drive or sometimes ride the bike when the weather was good. This morning it still had been raining a bit in an aftermath of yesterday's storm, so he'd used the car.

  When finally stepping inside his apartment he wished he had taken the bike, then thought it have been best to not go at all and skip the day. Then he glanced at the rope hanging from the ceiling fan and thoughtthe third option might've been the best.

*

He was still standing in the hallway, contemplating on the third option when the phone on his desk rang. He answered;

"Who is this?"

"Hello and good day, I'm calling on behalf of Bestcare Industries, we have excellent news for you my friend-"

"No thank you." A pause. "Although..."

There was a moment of confused silence from the other end. He then continued;

"Although you might've saved my life with this call, so thank you for that, I guess. Good day."

He hang up without waiting for a reply.

*

Lochson felt tired and went to bed. After rolling around for a while, not being able to fall asleep, he got up and went to his desk to look for his journal.Sleeping is out of question... again. He unlocked the upper drawer and produced a small tome with no discernable outside markings. Insides of it, however, were nearly filled with shaky scribbles. He took a pen and began writing.

*

I'm not sure how long this has been going on. My memory is gone – I don't remember even the last week's events clearly. I do know, however, that this condition has been getting worse. It's evident, if not solely by my own perspective, but by the fact that I've consistently been treated worse and worse by people around me. It's like I'm sick – not physically, and I don't think mentally either, but somehow... it's more deeper than that. Other teachers don't greet me anymore, they avoid me like plague. I'm not sure their actions are conscious. It seems more like that they feel something is wrong with me – something contagious perhaps, but not realize it on a rational level, so they simply avoid me and only have contact when absolutely necessary. 

It's not just teachers. The kids tread me like air, too. It's not like that's new though – I've never been a good teacher, but lately it's like they barely remember to attend my classes and during them they pay absolutely no attention to anything I say. It's like I'm not even there and they have the hour free to do what they please. I've long since ceased all efforts to keep any semblance of discipline. There's no point and I'm too tired anyway. The sole exception seems to be that one girl whose name I barely even remember (Yen?). She seems to notice me, pays attention to my pathetic attempts of lecturing and sometimes asks if something's wrong with me. It's both sad and funny at the same time – the only person that takes any notice of me is a girl who's my pupil. I should be the one taking care of her problems. I don't mean... she's obviously smart... but she's only a kid. If she's the only one caring whether or not I off myself then I don't think my chances are too good. If she's the only one that would even notice -

*

The phone rang again.Just as I was beginning to forget, damn phone, should've unplugged it. He got up and answered;

"Who is this?"

"It's Mia. Thomas has been in an accident." Said the female voice.

Lochson stood still for a second. He tried to remember who Thomas or Mia was. Then the realization hit him.

"What- how? Where's he? Is he okay?"

"We're at the hospital. I- Yes, he's alive. Sleeping... I don't... I'm not sure..."

The voice felt off, like someone speaking through a loudspeaker giving some kind of trivial announcement after a long day at work. She was obviously in shock.

"I'll be there." Lochson said and hung up.

*

Lochson ran up to the parking lot and was reminded that he had left the car at school. He cursed and ran to the bus-stop. Checking the notice board he realized it'd take too long for the next bus to arrive. He looked around for a solution, in vain, and started running.

*

It didn't take that long to run to the hospital which was only a kilometer away, but for Lochson it seemed like a dozen at least. He glanced at his wrist, having forgotten he no longer wore a watch. He took a few breaths at the main doors, collecting himself, then pulled the doors open and walked in.

*

The hospital was crowded with commoners as usual. Lochson saw no staff anywhere and the reception booth was empty as well. He ran towards the ER-wing. Along the way he spotted a nurse sitting in a small breakroom. He asked about Thomas and continued.

  Soon he arrived at the closed door of Thomas' room and suddenly felt like backing up, not wanting to go inside. Not because he didn't want to see him, but for...there's no explaining it. It was simply a feeling, a deep sense of dread – something verywrongwas residing in that room. It was like a curse or disease, not physical nor mental, but something deeper, stemming from the very core of being itself –not a condition of the body nor the mind... but a condition of... something else.

  If he wasn't in such a general state of disarray Lochson might've examined the condition more closely and notice the similarities of this affliction between him and Thomas, but he was too nervous, too exhausted to think clearly. He pushed the door open and stepped in.

*

Mia was quietly conversing with a white-jacketed physician next to Thomas' bed. An old, tall man with a long white beard – the name "Harrison" read on the label of his jacket. He seemed stoic and understanding while Mia seemed distant, her face still, a single lock of red hair in front of her left eye. Lochson looked at Thomas, who was lying on the bed.

  What a mess, what in the world has happened to him?All kinds of contraptions and bandages covered his body, only a small portion of the face left free underneath it all. His head seemed swollen – it was obvious he had been in a hasty surgery recently and he was soundly asleep, perhaps in coma. The doctor turned to Lochson and greeted him, stepping forward to shake his hand.

"Mr. Lochson, I assume?" His voice was calm.

"Yes, I am. How does it look?"

"Well." The doctor looked at Thomas and continued;

"Broken ribs, some internal bleeding, bruises and the like. The usual that follows crashes of this magnitude. All in all, he took it quite well. Nothing life-threatening at the moment. His head, however, is another story." A short pause.

"We did an emergency surgery to relieve the building pressure as his left hemisphere was filling with blood. We don't have a brain surgeon  in the hospital – he's on his way from Tammerfors. Can't tell much more until he arrives." Another pause, and when Lochson said nothing the doctor continued;

"He's alive, yes, but it's impossible to determine true extent of his wounds at this moment. I'm sorry."

Lochson tried to collect his thoughts but couldn't really make sense of it all. He looked at Mia, who was still staring at Thomas with blank eyes.

"How long until the surgeon arrives?" Lochson asked.

"It's about two hours' drive, so he should be here any moment. You can stay here and wait until he arrives and examines him, but it could still take a while." The doctor coughed and added;

"Although you should wait outside and let him rest. In fact, it's against regulations for both of you to even be here now. The standard wait period-"

"I understand." Lochson said and turned to Mia.

"You want to get something to eat or drink... coffee maybe?"

Mia's eyes were still hazy but she nodded.

*

They went to the cafeteria to pass time. Even though the hospital was crowded this area was nearly empty as most of the people were in the lobby, waiting for their turn to see a doctor. As it's usual the case in small towns such as this, the hospital was understaffed and the waiting times were atrocious, though most people had gotten used to it a long time ago. Lochson fetched coffee for them from the machine and they sat down. After some time of silence Lochson started the conversation with a preceding cough;

"So, what happened?"

Mia took a sip from her cup and stared in the distance, not focusing her eyes in anything in particular.

"He was... I was waiting for him. He was supposed to pick me up."

Considering his words carefully, Lochson asked what had happened. Mia answered after a short pause;

"Another driver hit him from the side. Driver's side... his side. He was just crossing the lights when it happened. The other guy - it was red lights for him. He's now in the custody. The police took him in away after he was briefly examined here. He was drunk."

It did not take long for Lochson to put all this into a mental image;Thomas starting to speed up after the lights turned green. A drunk idiot charging through the traffic full speed, perhaps noticing the lights had turned red, perhaps not. Doesn't matter. The car hits the driver's side, Thomas only having a thin, sheet-steel door in the way of the oncoming vehicle. He hits his head against the glass, hard, and all goes dark.

  Lochson thought but couldn't remember when an accident like this had last happened. There'd been drunk drivers before of course, but they usually kept their speed low and drove into ditches, injuring only themselves. A guy speeding through traffic in broad daylight was unheard of. He wondered who it could've been.

*

Mia had asked something but Lochson missed it. He pardoned and asked what the question was.

"Thomas had informed you about our wedding, right?"

Lochson searched his memory. It was useless – his head had been in scrambles even before all of this and now it was like poking at low-viscosity soup in hopes of finding any concrete substance. He answered;

"No, no he hadn't, I'm sorry... at least I don't remember. I didn't even know you were in town."I didn't even know who you were.

Mia sighed and drank the last of her coffee, then continued;

"I can't believe he said nothing to you. You were supposed to be our bestman. The wedding is scheduled... was, scheduled, for the next friday."

Lochson assumed that most likely Thomas had called him and informed of this upcoming event.My head must be in worse condition than I thought.He had no recollection of any wedding, even less of him supposed to being a bestman. Tried as he might, there was no way around the fact that his mind was just a big, messy amalgamation of random thoughts these days.

  Minutes passed, Lochson wasn't sure what to say next. Mia was staring at her empty coffee cup with unseeing eyes.

"Well... it seems you have to postpone the wedding, at least for a few days now."

The words held a clumsy semblance of optimism. Lochson understood that most likely it would be a miracle if Thomas would wake up in months - if at all. Mia did not take notice of this thinly-veiled facade and replied;

"Yes. I think so too."

*

The Teacher Part II: A Wailing Whitend

*

Part II: A Wailing Whitend

*

"Why would they do that?" Jack asked. The men were standing by the car, looking at the mutilated tire.

"Man is an animal." Lochson replied.

Jack seemed confused and let out a short "huh?"

"There's no real reason. They're just acting by their instincts."

"Now you've lost me buddy."

Lochson sighed. The explanation was not worth it, but the words demanded to be uttered.

~

"They all loathe me but don't know why. They just do so, unconsciously. The hatred runs deep, so deep that no rationale can reach it and thus they act without questioning themselves. If they were to question, they would simultaneously question their very selves, which would lead them to discover that, deep down, their motivations are pure animalistic ones without any deeper meaning. They think they're something bigger, something 'higher' than the base animal they - we all - are. The truth is that man is kept going by the unknown motivators of his life, masked under the illusions bestowed to him via evolution by mere necessity. To question one's motives would be like tearing down the facade of life itself. Thus, they act, but don't think. The hatred acts as a mask and they don't even dare to try tear it down."

~

Jack was silent for a moment.

~

Then he burst into laughter.

~

Lochson sighed.

*

While sitting in the cafeteria Lochson became aware of his general state of degradation and all the foul odors that his body was producing after having neglected for so long the basic hygiene one needs in his daily life. He pardoned himself with a poor excuse of needing to attend to some trivial task that he had promised to perform for his coworkers. Mia did not take notice or care, opting to still stare at her empty coffee cup.

  Lochson felt, at least for the moment, a bit ashamed for leaving the girl by herself, but soon forgot about her situation altogether as getting back home seemed more and more urgent by the minute. He needed some time alone after all these sudden events. It was all beginning to get too overwhelming.

*

For the first time in months Lochson had felt a surge of energy. He was going by pure adrenaline, a sudden spike of invigorating power that would, however, surely soon dissipate. There was no time to waste and he really needed to shower. He rushed out the hospital doors and ran back home, rushing to the bathroom without even taking the shoes off first. He tore his clothing off and jumped into the shower.

  While enjoying the warmth of the running water he already felt the rush of energy fade. He had planned to quickly shower and find some clean clothes – if there still existed any in the piles – and then get back to the hospital, but after each passing minute that plan seemed ever more discomforting to take on. With great effort he turned the faucet off and stepped out. As he walked out the bathroom he heard a loud, deep rumble and when he looked out the livingroom window it had begun to rain.

*

Lochson was startled by a booming sound that seemed to shift the whole apartment complex. After a few confusing moments he realized that it was the thunder - lightning had struck close, the whole building still shaking from the shockwave as he could hear cutlery and miscellaneous items in the apartment clanking about. He walked to the window and examined the yard, trying to get a look where the lightning had struck. 

*

It was now so dark and raining so heavily that Lochson could only decipher running straits of water on the other side of the window. A distant flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the scenery. The vista outside was something he'd never seen before - the town was replaced by a black sea of writhing mass, the horizon a smooth, slightly curved line that of an immense ocean. There was nothing still in this ocean of semi-viscous liquid, however, as innumerable veins, quivering forms and shapes formed endless intricate patterns on the surface of it. When Lochson stared deep into the waves he could see various humanoid faces, struggling to stay afloat amidst of it all. Then, in an instant, the flash was over and everything was dark again.

*

Lochson turned away, the image still haunting his field of vision. Am I hallucinating? Have I finally gone mad? There was no telling – everything blurred together. His own thoughts and this world, this facade of a world, intertwined and formed an unholy union of formless thoughts and ideas. There's no going back he heard someone say. Lochson spun around, looked about the room. It was the livingroom as before, seemingly nothing unusual about it, yet there was something missing. It took a moment for him to notice it, but then the fact dawned on him – the front door was gone. Instead of it, there was a black, perfectly circular hole of nothing.

*

Lochson approached the hole. It was the most curious phenomenon he had ever witnessed – it was nothing on the surface, yet therein seemed to lurk endless permutations of ancient knowledge. All the answers to the questions you can or even cannot think of he heard a metallic voice say – though not exactly a voice, not even a whisper, but more like a passing thought, a fluke in a constant monotone static of an idling, out-of-station FM-radio. That's right – come closer. Man is simply an animal driven by his instincts and the instincts of your being are very clear; you want to know the truth.

  Lochson stared deep into the nothing. There was something in there despite the hole seeming like an empty tear in space. A sudden, deep feeling of terror passed him and he wanted to get away from it as fast possible, but his feet wouldn't move. There's no going back a voice said behind him and he stepped forward, as if pressed forwards by an irresistible force.

*

Lochson gasped and opened his eyes. He was lying on the living room floor, next to a dirty pile of clothes. He had no idea how long he had been passed out, but it was dark outside. Glancing at the clock revealed that it was late afternoon already, while looking at the window informed that the rain had stopped - although thick, dark clouds still enveloped the sky. Lochson got up, stumbled, nearly fell down but eventually managed to walk to the phone. A single message was left in it - it was Mia, but the message was full of static and her voice unusual, echoing from a long distance away;

"Why didn't you... Thomas is... He said something, I couldn't...   ...promised to come... I went back to our place... god, I'm so tired..."

There was a loud surge of static and then, a voice that did not sound like her but as if someone making an imitation of her, said;

"So tell me, why haven't you-"

The message ended abruptly. Lochson was left there standing, looking at the phone with blank expression.

*

A thought of rushing to Thomas' place visited Lochson's mind but he promptly rejected it. It was late already, Mia was probably asleep by now and she needed the rest – and he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to make it there in his exhausted state of mind.

  After hearing a loud rumble again – this time from his stomach - Lochson walked to the fridge and opened it. Only a dim light greeted him, but upon closer inspection he noticed that he still had some food left, though nothing exactly edible; a tube of mustard, a carton of spoiled milk and a roll of hardened cheese with green spots on it. I have no idea what I've eaten the last week. First thing tomorrow will be to get some food.

*

Upon closing the fridge Lochson heard the noise again and sighed. There was no point trying to locate it. Instead he went to his journal, feeling the need to document his strange dream. The journal was there where he'd left it in the upper drawer. Hello old friend, nice to see you again. He picked up a pen and set to work.

*

It's getting worse. It's not just the sounds anymore, it's beginning to affect my dreams as well. I had the weirdest dream after suddenly fainting. Having strange dreams is nothing new of course, but this one was different. I saw an unimaginable landscape outside the window - and the detail of it! In the dream I had sharper than normal vision which revealed the horrid imaginary with absolute clarity. All those faces in that sea of madness, quivering, wailing, pleading for... something. I'm not sure what it means, but I'm quite sure I saw my own face somewhere amongst them. 

*

Then there was the hole. It wasn't a hole exactly... It was a tear. A tear in reality itself. A "void" in the most literal sense of the word. I could see something in there lurking, calling for me. It was the most hideous feeling I've ever experienced, yet at the same time the most fascinating. What it said, what it revealed to me... was something unspeakable. It claimed to be the truth itself, whatever that means. I tried to run away but my feet were stuck in place, as is so typical in dreams. I don't think there is turning back anymore. I have to get to the bottom of this and it's not like I've got much to lose. My life's been going down the drain for a long time now and I don't think it can get much worse, no matter what I end up discovering - then again, I might be wrong. Only time will tell.

Lochson yawned, set the pen down and went to bed.

*

First rays of the dawning day woke Lochson up. Shit, I forgot to close the blinds - again.Another lapse in memory, so typical these days. Small things like remembering to buy food, close blinds and windows, brushing teeth or showering... they didn't matter so much anymore. One could easily forget or postpone these trivial tasks indefinitely when most of the willpower is used in getting up from the bed.

  This day was no different. Lochson felt fatigued right from the start, and only with great effort and an audible grunt he managed to lift himself up and walk to the blinds to close them. After dealing with the blinds he stumbled to the kitchen to check if he still had coffee left. Unsurprisingly, there was none. Time to visit the store.

*

Lochson's stomach rumbled ever more audibly as he stepped out the apartment. His mind seemed to take more notice of his bodily functions now that he had become more aware of his general state of affairs. It was a curious sign, perhaps a signal of something new to come, but for the time being he paid no further attention to it. Instead he walked to the parking lot, was again reminded of the fact that his car was still standing at the school and headed for the store on foot.

*

It was still quite early in the morning so the local store was quiet, only a few people browsing the various items that lay haphazardly placed on the shelves. The store was small, its owner a mean old man who only wanted to retire but never quite seemed to reach the age. It was the nearest store, however, and Lochson visited it often despite the old man and the store's general state of disarray - it was a place wherein Lochson could be sure no-one bothered him, especially in the quiet hours of a saturday morning.

*

While searching for the cheapest coffee Lochson heard a man's deep voice behind him. He instantly recognized it, despite the fact it was numerous years ago since he'd last heard it.

"Is it Lochson? Lochson, as in L the MAN!"

Lochson turned around and sure enough, Jack was standing there. Tall and muscular, just like he remembered him. Only difference was that he now had a thick, black beard. He looks a bit like a pirate. A modern day pirate in leather jacket. Lochson remained silent for a moment, then said;

"Jack. Greetings. It's been a while."

Jack was standing there in silence, smiling wide. He then said;

"What, that's all I get after all this time? Man, you haven't changed a bit!"

He then grabbed Lochson’s hand and shook it hard. Despite the firm and aggressive grip he wasn't surprised, as it was the handshake he well remembered. He smiled, at first a bit shy, then more openly - it was the first genuine smile he'd experienced this year and the feeling was quite a peculiar one, but not exactly uncomfortable.

*

Lochson was left waiting for Jack's next move. He didn't need to wait long since he continued nearly immediately with an onslaught of words;

"So where the fuck you've been all this time? Don't you still live in here? You know, since I moved out I've visited this 'great metropolis' many a time but never saw you anywhere – hell, I don't even know your phone number or anything. You just disappeared, man."

Even though Lochson was not annoyed to see his old friend again this wasn't a good time. He said;

"It's good to see you Jack, and I know, it's been... I've been, out of the circles lately, so to say. I'm sorry but I'm in kind of hurry right now. There's been a lot going on – I'll give you my number, call me later and we'll speak more, but for now I really gotta run."

Lochson searched his pockets for a scrap of paper. His jacket was always full of miscellaneous, mostly useless stuff that he nevertheless carried around. He found what he searched for and scribbled his number on an old piece of envelope and handed it to Jack, who was confused but accepted the thing nonetheless. Lochson grabbed the coffee from the self and headed for the cashier without saying another word. He heard Jack shout behind him;

"Right, run along, but you won't get away from me the second time!"

Then followed the bellowing laugh of an oncoming storm. Lochson wasn't sure what to think of all this – there was no telling what Jack's sudden appearance would bring along with him. He'd always been a wild card, the joker and the rebel in the same package. Lochson never understood how they'd become friends and continued to get along so well after all these years. Opposites attract each other, perhaps, or so the saying goes anyway.

*

After shutting the front door of his apartment Lochson sighed. The day was just beginning and he felt like it had been going for hours already. Having not eaten anything in over a day didn't help either, so the first thing to do was to get some strong coffee and boil a few eggs. While listening to the boiling water and reassuring rumbling of the coffeemaker he thought about Jack. It all seems like a strange coincidence – first Yen with her strange remarks, then the accident with Thomas... and the whole thing with the wedding. How could I forget such things so easily? And Jack... was there something I had forgotten about him as well? What, exactly, had caused him to cease all contact with me for so long? Or was it me? How long I've been here, alone, with no contacts to the outside world?

*

After having eaten Lochson glanced at the mirror to see how he looked. At first he didn't recognize himself – all that messy facial hair, deep, bloodshot eyes and already graying hair. Is this me? It seemed strange to even question one's own reflection, but Lochson had hard time remembering what his own face looked like... or used to look like. It was like he'd aged twenty years since he'd last seen himself. Suddenly he heard a voice call out beyond the looking glass;

"Who's there?

It was the incoherent static sending thoughts to his head again. The hole... the empty void with its blank vistas of unimaginable realities that constituted the - I have no time for this. Lochson turned and left. He felt his reflection stay in the mirror long after he'd exited the apartment.

*

The morning sun was again blocked by the heavy, thick low-hanging blanket of clouds. Lochson thought of retrieving his vehicle from the school but then decided that it was more important to first go see Mia and find out what was going on. He began walking on foot towards Thomas' place that was located on the outskirts of the town. On the way he thought of the last night's events;

  It all seems so surreal. In this new morning's light he began to doubt his own mind ever more. There'd been strange, high pitch in Mia's voice during the message. Now that I think of it, it didn't seem like Mia at all. Just someone poorly imitating her, speaking through a dense fog... or from a long distance away - a distance... a distance not measured by length alone. What does that mean, why did I think of that?

*

Lochson arrived at Thomas' old place. He remembered its location well after having spent many weekends here as a child. The place wasn't far from his apartment, two kilometers or so, not exactly out of town, but remote enough that there weren't any neighbours close.

  The house was quite a sizeable one, almost a mansion - certainly of good size in these parts, but in a dilapidated state as no-one had lived in it for years after Thomas' parents had died. Once people move out of out of Whitend there usually isn't much reason to come back. This place... it's just a dying old village, maybe a town if you ask the right person, but in reality not much more than a few houses loosely bounded together. People who call this a town are just fooling themselves.   Lochson shook his head, stepped over the overgrown grass to the door and pressed the doorbell.

*

Mia opened the door after a few moments. She seemed to have just awoken – wearing only a simple, woolen nightrobe with messy red hair all over her face, eyes barely open, still sensitive to light. She seemed annoyed at first, but then eased a bit.

"Yeah yeah I heard you. Why didn't you-"

Lochson interrupted her with fumbling words;

"I'm sorry – after I got the... uh, thing done, I thought of taking a quick shower at my apartment before getting back. I... passed out. Woke up much later and only then noticed your message."

Mia seemed both angry and confused.

"What?"

Lochson continued, not really thinking what he was saying;

"I fainted. I don't know why, I must've lied for hours on the floor. Perhaps I hadn't eaten enough that day or something... I'm sorry. I thought of calling you but it was quite late and you were probably sleeping already – I didn't want to bother you needlessly... but now, please explain to me what's going on."

Mia seemed hesitant but, after eying him for a moment, said;

"At least you're here now. Come on in, I need some coffee."

Lochson stepped in and closed the door behind him.

*

Memories flooded Lochson's mind when he entered the dusty entrance hallway. It was still the same with same rugged carpet and same old paintings on the walls, even though his last visit was over a decade ago. The lighting was different however, much darker and shadowy, only a singular floor lamp in the far corner illuminating the area with clearly not enough luminosity, casting an eerie, yellow dim glow on all the surfaces.

  Lochson glanced at the stairs leading to the second floor - they were still impressive, albeit seeming much smaller than he remembered them. No longer were they towering monstrosities of solid wood but merely nicely decorated piece of art, lovingly crafted to lend some smooth curvatures and gentle shapes to this otherwise very angular space. Funny how these kinds of things look smaller as you grow up-

"You coming?"

Mia was heading to the kitchen. Lochson followed.

*

Lochson took a seat beside the dining table. Mia was opening the drawers randomly, looking for coffee. Her voice was trembling a bit when she said;

"I still don't remember where Thomas keeps the coffee... It's usually him who makes it in the morning."

Lochson felt like having a guess – perhaps old habits die as hard for Thomas as they do for me;

"Check the one in the upper corner. That's where they used to keep it when we were kids."

Sure enough, coffee and filters both were sitting in there, neatly next to each other. Mia let out a short, dry snort and got to work. Lochson asked;

"So what was that all about yesterday, the message you left?"

Mia began speaking whilst preparing the coffeemaker;

"Oh, yes... right. He wasn't of much help. Said pretty much the same thing than Harrison. Apparently it was a good thing they relieved the pressure, probably saved his life, but that was about it - a big fucking waste of time if you ask me. He didn't even stay to examine him further, said he'd...."

Lochson wasn't listening anymore as he had trouble comprehending what he was hearing. There had been a message left for me, true, but what of its contents? This didn't seem like a good time to bring the issue up. Last thing I need is Mia doubting my mental health. Instead he asked for clarification;

 "So... they didn't do anything else yesterday? And the surgeon couldn't tell anything more?"

Mia was pouring spoonful after spoonful of coffee into the maker, faster each time. She then said, fumbling with the spoon;

"No. They... I – fuck. Sorry."

She dropped the spoon and the coffee in it spilled everywhere on the floor. After bending down to pick it up she collapsed on the floor and started crying. Lochson felt numb and couldn't think of anything to say.

*

Lochson cleaned up the mess for her and they sat down to wait for the coffee to be ready. Mia started speaking after having calmed down;

"At first I really didn't want to leave him, but... I just... I said to them I'd be okay. They asked multiple times. I felt really annoyed that I had to repeat myself time after time. Finally they shut up and let me leave the hospital."

A short while passed and the coffeemaker finished. Mia stood up and poured some coffee from the pan, then added after sitting down;

"I'm not so sure anymore. If I'm okay, that is."

Lochson felt out of place in the situation. Last thing anyone needs as her pep-talker is someone who's slowly losing his mind and been on a verge of suicide for months. Still, I have to try;

"There's no shame if you want to talk to someone. I'm sure they... at the hospital, would get someone to talk with you."

Mia seemed annoyed;

"I don't want any fucking shrink or anything... I can deal with this on my own, I'm sure of it. It's just this place – and the wedding... the..."

She took a sip from the cup and continued, voice still trembling a bit;

"I never liked this place. I know Thomas loves it – it's his childhood home after all. But now, just look at it!" She motioned around. Lochson got the point."It's like a clichéd haunted house. Did you know it used to be the town mayor's house, and before him, the baron's himself! Thomas always talks so highly of it, like being the heir of nobility himself after having inherited this damn place!"

Lochson noticed that Mia's cup was empty and offered some more from the pan.

"Thanks, I'm gonna need that."

Mia sighed, took a long sip of coffee and continued more calm now;

"It didn't use to be such a big deal... I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. It's just... after the accident I'm suddenly all alone here in this large house. We were supposed to be in Whitend for only two weeks – get married and get the hell out. Now it feels like I'm stuck here indefinitely. Stuck in this fucking... haunted manor."

There was mockery in her voice, as if the supposed haunting was something to make light fun of. Lochson asked;

"You keep saying that it's 'haunted'... Sure it's in shady condition, but... haunted?"

Mia sighed again.

"It's a long story and I'd rather not go into it right now. We should get going to the hospital and see if they have anything new to say."

Lochson agreed. No point delaying the leave any further. The pan was empty of coffee.

*

When they arrived at the hospital it seemed quieter now, despite the fact that weekends tend to be the time when people crowd the place with their endless complaints, mostly caused by overconsumption of alcohol and other substances. They walked through the double doors into the ER-wing. The hallway was vacant. Mia said, looking around;

"Strange, huh. Where's all the staff?"

Lochson blurted out the words without thinking;

"Chatting in the breakroom, drinking coffee, no doubt."

Mia chuckled. Despite being a nurse herself, she took no offence. They continued on.

*

They arrived at Thomas' room. General physician Harrison was there examining him – he seemed surprised to see them both this early in the morning. He smiled and said;

 "Greetings. I hope you slept well, despite the circumstances."

Mia released an onslaught of words before Lochson had time to speak;

"Yeah, great, but what the hell was that surgeon on about yesterday? He didn't even stay to examine him! A fucking quack I say – I could've done the exact same diagnosis he did!"

Lochson remembered well that Mia had quite a temperament, but this situation really did bring it up to a whole new level. He thought it best to stay silent and observe their exchange. Harrison said;

"Yes, well." He coughed and continued; "It appeared to him that we already did all the necessary operations that were possible under the circumstances - that is, released the building pressure and made sure no further damage occurred to the brain. Later on we discussed the possibility of moving him to Tammerfors' hospital, but seeing as he's stable now the move might do more harm than good - at the moment I don't think-"

Mia interjected, not even trying to conceal the implied accusation;

"Well he should've been flown to Tammerfors right away after the accident!"

Harrison continued, unflinching;

"Yes – you might be right... but on the other hand, perhaps he would've not gotten there in time. It was paramount that we released the pressure as fast as possible. In any case, there's not much more to be done now than to keep him under surveillance. We'd take MRI scans of his brain, but, well, you know how we still don't have the machinery around here despite the numerous times we've expressed our-"

Mia interjected again, now with even more annoyance;

"Yes yes, every hospital in this country is understaffed and underfunded, nothing new there."

She then continued in more calmed tone;

"I know it's not your fault. You did your best and I thank you for that, doctor... Harrison."

Harrison smiled. Lochson shifted his attention on Thomas. He seemed the same as yesterday – covered in bandages and contraptions that kept him in place. His eyes were closed but there seemed to be movement under the eyelids. Lochson thought of lifting one of the eyelids but quickly realized that it would be a silly idea. Instead he asked the doctor;

"So what do you personally think now that he seems stabilized?

Harrison answered;

"We're keeping him under the artificially induced coma for at least the next week. After that... I cannot tell. He might wake up or not. We have to simply hope for the best. I know that's not what you'd like to hear, but I cannot say much more without outright giving out false hope."

They fell quiet, there was not much more to say. Mia walked next to Thomas' bed and took his hand. She stared at his swollen face with blank expression and, with a seemingly unconscious act, removed a lock of hair that kept trying to get in the way of her eye - the eye twitched a little when she removed the lock. After a moment she said;

 "I'd like to have a moment alone with him... please."

The men looked at each other and walked out the room without saying a word.

*

Lochson felt like this was a good moment to talk to the doctor about his own troubles. The only thing is how to phrase them correctly so that he won't just send me to the mental ward with an M1-notice. He coughed and began;

"Listen, doc. I- there's something wrong with me."

Harrison adjusted his glasses and stood still, saying nothing.

"I know it's not a good time to bring it up, but I don't know any other time and... there's no-one else to tell."

Lochson felt like being honest after all. He'd had good feeling about Harrison from the beginning, no point circling the issue now.

"Doc, I feel like I'm going crazy, to be frank."

Harrison stood quiet for a moment, then asked;

"I understand this situation is quite a shock for you, but can you be a bit more precise? If you feel like this is getting too much for your-"

Lochson interrupted him and looked around, seeing if anyone was near;

"It's not about the accident. It's been going on for a while now... shit, a long time, not just 'a while.' I know how it's going to sound but... I don't think it's just me. It's this town, this whole place and the people. There's something wrong here. Please, doc, listen and don't just don't just ignore all of this, thinking it's just shock."

Lochson felt like he'd said too much already. The words just poured out of his mouth – there was no stopping them once he'd started. He continued before Harrison had time to say anything;

"It began... well, I'm not sure when or how it even began. My memory's been hazy for some time now. Either it was the dreams or the noises – maybe they appeared at the same time. A year or so ago... no, the noises are more recent, and the dreams have been going on for quite a long time - but the worst thing is the noises seem to be getting more and more louder as the dreams get weirder."

Lochson was now pouring out the words without even taking any notice of  Harrison. There seemed to be no end for it – they just kept coming.

"I've seen... things, in my dreams. This whole place being... like a haze, a mist, something surreal, unnatural. And deep underground there's... shapes. Dark and cold, slithering mass of... it sickens me to just even think about it. It sleeps but still effects everything and everyone – I'm sure other people sense it too but they just choose to ignore it, or are too stupid or clueless to pay any attention to it. For some reason this entity has picked me as its prime subject... I don't know why, but it's driving me crazy. I cannot sleep anymore because of the nightmares, and when I'm awake, the noises still follow, no matter how hard I try to block them out."

Lochson felt fatigued. He took deep breaths and realized he'd either made the worst or best decision of his life when choosing to talk to this doctor he barely knew. He looked at Harrison who stood there, his expression unreadable. Lochson grew anxious and was about to say something more when he finally spoke;

"I see. Interesting."

Lochson made a sound of confusion. Harrison continued;

"Well... I must consider your words. I don't think you're 'mad' as people so often label each other with such trivial banality - I must think on this before I can help you. In the meantime, try to keep yourself together... and try to help her however you can. This is very difficult for her, as you surely understand."

Lochson felt just a bit relieved but still couldn't be sure if he'd been right to trust him or not. He said;

"Yes, of course. Thank you doctor. Please, you must've felt it too... I believe so, as this thing affects everything around us like a dark cloud that permeates everything. Just... consider what I've said as-"

*

The sound hit Lochson like a nearby gunshot. He turned around and looked up at the ceiling. He realized these erratic movements didn't help his case but he couldn't stop himself. The sound was more pronounced this time – not louder, but somehow closer, like one would be able to just about discern where it emanated from if he just managed to pinpoint the direction precisely enough.

  Of course there was no source to be seen. There never was. His mind, however, was now able to connect the meaning more directly to something previously known to it – the sound was reminiscent that of two pieces of smooth material sliding against each other ever so slightly.

*

Mia emerged from the room with her head down, avoiding eye contact. She only said, "let's go" and Lochson used this chance to quickly get away from the awkward situation. He glanced over his shoulder as they walked the hallway - Harrison stood there, silently watching as they went.

*

They were standing in the parking lot next to Mia's car. She tried to light a cigarette but her hands were shaking and she kept fumbling with the lighter. Lochson lighted it for her and asked;

"So... what now?"

Mia took a deep breath from the cigarette and coughed.