"This place looks dead," I muttered, pulling into a parking lot near where Alan had held his second and last speech. The trees were devoid of leaves, the grass looked a sickly gray, and a heavy fog coated the air, casting a cloak that was almost impossible to see through.
I got out of my truck and started walking, searching for anything that might have pointed to where he would have headed next, but I saw nothing. Not a single person was out and about, not even a single bug, the entire place looked more like a ghost town than anything.
'Dammit, should I just park somewhere else and wait until it clears up?' I asked myself, ducking under a tree branch just before it sliced my cheek. The smell of morning dew was getting thicker as I traveled forward, yet so was a horrid stench, one I had never smelled before.
'Is that sulfur?' The deeper voice asked, and I felt something grip my shoulder, sending a chill further down my spine. I turned around, expecting to see at least a bug, but there was nothing. I continued forward, my lips pressed firmly together as I tried to ignore it. Then I spotted a clearing in front of me.
I entered and looked around, yet the only thing there was a single metal bench. Not seeing anything else, I sat down and stared off into the cloudy sky. A thick bundle of gray clouds loomed overhead, blocking the sun and casting a shadow of unforeseen proportion over the park.
Slowly, I took a deep breath, attempting to calm the pacing of my heart. Something felt right like I should have been there, yet it also felt foreign.
A type of pressure I'd never felt before, pressing down on my legs. As if gravity, or some other force, was trying to drag me to the ground
'You have to remember Liam, there was a devastating shooting just a few days ago. It's more abnormal for you to be out here,' The female voice reminded me, and suddenly, it felt as if the pressure on my shoulder had gone away, yet the force of my legs remained.
"Then what do I do? You told me to come here," I questioned, breathing more deeply. A sickly feeling was forming in my chest, a pit that I could fall into any minute, but why? What was happening? What was weird?
Before waiting for her reply, I took out my phone and checked the news. Still nothing in relation to my school, but what shocked me more, or part of me, was I felt like something should have been there. I recognized the camera in the background of the photo that was on my phone, it belonged to a female teacher I used to have.
She used to feel up all the guys, the muscular ones anyway, or the ones with high hopes, and even after I reported it, they refused to launch an investigation. "They should feel honored she's admiring them." The Dean said whenever I mentioned anything.
I knew she was sleeping with a few of them, just from the looks the students shot at her. Their eyes would tremble whenever eye contact was made, and quickly, they'd find an interest in counting the lines of the carpet.
'You might be thinking it's all that Alan said, about a rating. But Liam, they care about money far more. The higher the rating you have, obviously the more money you make, right?' She asked me, her voice calm and leveled, yet I could detect a hint of hatred.
"I guess," I replied, standing up to leave the bench. It felt out of place to be sitting so long looking at the skies pass, out of place to be on my phone, out of place for it to be so quiet. 'Wait, quiet?'
I looked around me again, this time focusing on any noises at all, the wind slapped me hard, creating a whipping sound as it cut through the air, yet other than that, there was none. No bugs, no crunching of grass under me, no trees clacking together, nothing. Like we were separated from the rest of the world.
The pit was forming more in my chest, getting wider as my eyes shot around. My hands started to sweat, rolling down my fingers and hitting the ground, but still not a sound was heard. It wasn't just calm before the storm, it felt as if this was the storm, and the calm was almost supernatural.
My eyelids squeezed shut, trying to focus harder on any sound, but none came, even the wind went silent. When I opened them, I was inside a strange building near the park. "Memorial Center," It said on the sign.
My eyes shot open as I fell backward, hitting the grass, and this time there was a deafening crunch, like every sound decided to hit me all at once. "W-What the hell? How did I get here?" I questioned aloud, my eyes darting around me as I tried to search for someone, anything, any indication of how I arrived.
An older man came from behind a black pillar, etched with yellow names, thousands of names. "You seem a bit frightened there sport, everything okay?" He asked, reaching out his clammy hand for me to grab onto.
Against my better judgment, against my will, I reached out and took it. He lifted me to my feet with surprising ease, his hold gentle yet also rough, almost like sandpaper. His hat said Veteran Caretaker, but he seemed more than that.
The man in front of me looked like a wrinkly, dried-up toothpick, not a caretaker of any place. On his chest was a Purple Heart medal.
"Do you, uh, run this place?" I managed to get out, my mouth drying out just by looking at his chapped lips, I was a bit surprised they weren't bleeding.
He laughed for a moment, sounding more like a dying frog, before replying, all while wiping a tear off his cheek.
"Yes, that I do. All these brave men who died fighting for America, I wash their War Memorial. It's a simple job, even for an old man like me."
I wanted to correct him and say he wasn't old, yet he looked like the wind could snap him like a twig, and I didn't respond to it.
The feeling in my chest started to ease a little the more we talked, but there was still that feeling, a small feeling that this was both the right place and the wrong one. Similar to the feeling you get when you think you locked your door, but aren't sure.
"Conflicted?" He asked, staring into my eyes. For just a moment, I could have sworn his eyes glowed red, just like the boy I thought I saw on the street a few days ago. But when I blinked they were back to normal.
My hands shook for a moment as I tried to process what I had just seen. There wasn't a sun in the sky, it was as cloudy as possible. It couldn't be a trick of the light, right? "N-No, just trying to get some help. Would you happen to know where the boy who was on stage a few days ago is? Or maybe you know where I might find him?" The moment I asked, a loud ringing filled my ears, sending a stinging pain through my head.
"Ah, looking for the ol' Alan Andrews, eh?" He replied, motioning for me to follow him.
'Old?' I thought, stepping over the dead branches on the ground as we walked over the cracked concrete pathway. The air changed, becoming harder to breathe as we got closer to a singular building not far from the memorial.
I choked, holding my throat as we approached. It felt as if thousands of daggers were stabbing into me, cutting my flesh apart, dissecting me, and all at once, it ended.
In a newfound coughing fit, I crashed into the ground, scraping my knees as I clutched my chest and throat. There was something about the building that made my veins go cold, something that kept me from wanting to enter, something that scared me. But how would it scare me if I didn't even know what was in it?
"That right there, that's where you want to go. When you come out, I'll be waitin' for you sport," He said with a wrinkly grin, his eyes flashing red for a second, just for that one second, and then back to normal. Exactly like before.
'W-What the hell! I know I didn't imagine that!' I thought, my hands shaking as I looked between him and the building.
"T-Thank you?" I muttered confused, raising my eyebrow as I tried to control my shaking hands.
'Why would he want me to go into some shabby concrete building?' I thought, my eyes scanning the building ahead of me.
The walls were cracked and worn down, vines were creeping over the triangular roof and dripping into the ground, and a small cross sat atop the roof, with a small splatter of red across the very top.
Although my legs shook, my brain begged me not to step forward, I cut through the overwhelming presence and took my first step. He smiled wider, then stepped away and picked up a brush, which I assumed was for the memorials.
'Is this thing a memorial? I feel like I'll die from a panic attack just staring at it!' I thought, forcing my foot to take another step forward. The pit in my heart grew larger, almost to the point I felt it could consume me, and I heard the dark voice again.
'Ha! You stumbled across something all right! I can feel the bloodlust from over here!'
"B-Bloodlust?" I stuttered, clenching my teeth as I carried myself forward, arriving at the collapsing wooden door, the wood was rotted out, to the point the iron handle was starting to crumble, yet the materials had to have been recently used.
Some spots were bright like the wood was recently purchased, but it was rotted to almost unrecognition in others.
The voice didn't respond, and I lifted my shaky hand. With sweat pouring down my forehead, staining my shirt with sticky wetness, the stench of sulfur filled my nose again, almost causing me to double over as I entered. 'I-I don't understand, how is a statue supposed to help me? How is this related to Alan?'
A large statue stood in front of me, the top of it covered in a blackened stone, a pair of wings on its back, and a small red tear was right below its right eye. An inscription, almost completely blocked by overgrown moss, only said one sentence. 'Codename: Ares.'
"Ares? As in the Greek god of war?" I asked aloud, my legs collapsing under me. I clutched my chest, holding it tightly and bending my skin in a spiral to my heart, the overpowering stench of blood took over my senses, almost making me throw up on the spot.
I let out a loud, ear-piercing scream of pain as I clutched my chest tighter. Individual flames felt as if they were wrapping around my veins, climbing up my neck and strangling me, before going back down and repeating.
'I wish I could have known this guy! This amount of pressure is amazing!' The darker voice cheered, and the same feeling of a hand on my shoulder came back, replacing the overwhelming heat with a cold.
'Volgar! Get off him, he's about to pass out!' The lighter voice yelled, and the cold disappeared, replaced by the burning pain. Like the sun itself was placed in my chest.
The skin on my face felt as if it was eroding, melting off the bone and splattering against the floor, the smell grew stronger, now mixed with a smell I had never smelt before, but recognized it instantly, death.
"I was hoping you could withstand him! Guess not sport, come on, I'll get you out of here," The old man said from behind me, gripping my arms with a strength that surprised me. For someone who looked like a toothpick, like he should have died a century ago, how was he so strong?
As we neared the memorial building again, the pressure vanished, the heat was no longer there, as if it never existed in the first place. "W-What the hell is going on?" I muttered, drool dripping down my chin as tears poured out, soaking the ground.
"Well sport, I was wrong to think you could withstand that. A vengeance, a drive for justice, a need for blood, he represents all of that incarnate," He answered, wiping the tears off of my cheeks and lifting me off the ground, placing me in a metal chair.
"What did any of that have to... Why?" I asked, unable to choose a question as I wiped the drool from my chin. I had never felt anything like that before in my life, nothing so strong, so... Murderous.
"You'll find out in time, maybe he'll still help you. Rest assured, if you can withstand him like that, you can succeed in your mission," The old man whispered in my ear, covering my eyes with his hand as his eyes turned a bright red. "Now wake up."
My eyes shot open, darting from the left to the right, then in front of me as my heartbeat raced. I was still inside my truck, there was no fog, no bench, and no memorial anywhere near me.
"W-What the fuck?" I stammered, clutching my chest, I could feel my heart struggling to break through the skin, but I managed to hold it back.
'Hah! That was amazing!' The darker voice, Volgar shouted with what sounded like happiness and excitement from the back of my mind.
I looked down and could still see my heartbeat, could still practically smell the sulfur in the air, I could still feel the overwhelming fear that one building made me feel.
What kind of person can make someone feel that even after they've passed? Why was his code name a Greek God?
Without waiting any longer, I put my car in drive and started the drive back, I didn't care who the hell I needed, after that, I wasn't staying a second longer. And for some strange, unexplainable reason, I felt that I had gotten what I came for.
'Liam, take a deep breath, okay? It's over, calm down and focus on the road. Remember what he said? Just focus on what you planned to do, you can do this,' The lighter voice said, her voice making me feel slightly calmer.
Yet I still couldn't help but wonder. What was that? Why were his eyes red? What connection did he have to the guy who disappeared into the fog a few days before? What wasn't I figuring out?
I was silent the rest of the drive back, and I pulled back into a gas station parking lot. For a second, I could see a flicker of orange off in the distance, shaped like an eye. I shuddered as an almost overwhelming feeling of fear filled my mind, the same feeling I felt at the grave.
As soon as the eye appeared, it disappeared, and the feeling left with it. "What is happening to me?" I mumbled, shaking my head as I went in to get a drink, ignoring the feeling behind me, as if someone, something was still looking at me.