The Nightmare Game (66 page)

“Arrosha, Arrosha!” he cried and pleaded. “I’m
sorry! Forgive me! I’m so sorry! No! No, Arrosha, please. Please don’t do this
to me! I’ll do anything you ask! Anything!”

“Anything I ask? Why Geoffrey, you’ve already
shown me that you can’t handle that. It’s what got you into this little pickle
in the first place.”

“Please, Arrosha, please!”

Amidst his begging, the woman began to crawl up to
him on her hands and knees, the movements animalistic, predatory, and
Geoffrey’s pleas turned into an unintelligible sobbing. As she got closer, his
cries turned into one hoarse scream that did not stop. Just as she was ready to
pounce on him, Arrosha waved her hand and the carnival pen with its attraction
disappeared altogether, leaving nothing but a crying Geoffrey screaming on the
floor, his eyes closed.

His screaming continued long past the point at
which the woman would ever have reached him. Eventually, perhaps sensing this,
Geoffrey reopened his eyes with caution and relief washed over him.

“Oh,” he said. “She’s gone. Thank you Arrosha,
thank you, thank you. I’ve learned my lesson. I will never disobey you ever
again!”

“That’s right,” Arrosha said. “You won’t. Don’t
consider this a pardon, Geoffrey, just a temporary reprieve. I have something
else in mind for you, something more fitting. But I’m not letting you off the
hook, not in the least. I just need to find a fate for you in the interim
that’s less, shall we say, fatal.

“Oh, I know what I will do. I’ll just return you
to where I found you, leave you as you were before I rescued you on that day
you thought your life was over.”

“Arrosha, please no. Please don’t do that either.
I won’t ever displease you again. Don’t do it, please don’t do it.”

I was now almost beginning to feel sorry for Geoffrey.
He was crying and sweating and shaking so hard that his words were becoming
difficult to understand. But as I averted my eyes from him, I caught sight of
poor Ben, perched silently on the ledge, the dutiful tower Gargoyle. During the
moments in which I studied Ben, Geoffrey’s begging had become hysterical,
unintelligible sniveling. I now looked at him without pity, because he’d had
none for any of the others. Out of everyone in the entire group, Geoffrey was
the only one who actually deserved his fate.

“Arrosha! No-o-o–.” His voice faded into nothing
as I found myself standing with Arrosha in a dirty, wet, urban ghetto alley.
Geoffrey, at least I assumed it was Geoffrey, was lying in a large puddle of
water, an oil sheen glistening its dirty rainbow colors upon the surface. His
body was twisted in a grotesque fetal position, his face half buried in the
filthy puddle, his left arm stretched out stiffly, rubber tubing tied above the
elbow, a syringe lying on the cement just below it. His bulging jaundiced
yellow eyes, half alive and half dead, looked up with great effort as his slack
drool-covered mouth barely squeezed out the inevitable “help me”.

Arrosha was smiling as she stood over him. “This
is where I found him so many years ago. He went downhill fast after he left
Ben. Hard to believe that he was once a handsome man in his original existence
even before I changed him, isn’t it? He actually came into the world meant to
be quite stunning, but his own debauchery turned him into this.”

That he was handsome in his youth was almost
impossible to believe as I stared at the man who was barely more than a human
skeleton, lying on the dirty concrete, surrounded with garbage bags, broken
bottles, cigarette butts and blood stains. The damp alley stank strongly of
stale cigarette smoke, spilled booze and excrement, probably both animal and
human. The figure that lay on the ground before me, body and face slowly
twitching, bore no resemblance, physically, to the Geoffrey that I had known at
all nor to anyone that could ever have been considered handsome. His skin,
covered with sores and scabs and jailhouse tattoos, stretched tightly over his
bones except where his face was slack, tinged the dirty yellow cast of advanced
liver disease. His yellow eyes were set deeply into dark, shadow encircled
sockets. His left arm was riddled with track marks and when he opened his mouth
once again to squeak “help me”, I could see that more than a few of his teeth
were missing, the remaining were yellow and rotting. It was quite obvious he
was dying.

“Is it an overdose?” I heard myself asking.

“No. Poisoned drugs. Oh, there would have been an
overdose eventually, sooner rather than later. But no, it seems our boy
Geoffrey had a habit of toying with people, inevitably pissing them off
royally. Someone thought that a payback was in order and laced his heroin with
a slow-acting poison. Poor Geoffrey, always screwing people over and thinking
he could get away with it.”

Addressing him, she said, “I thought I had washed
that bad habit out of you with the water at my mansion, Geoffrey. And I did,
didn’t I, Geoffrey, for a very long time. I had you under my total control for
over three decades. But then you had to ruin it all by sneaking regular water,
didn’t you? I didn’t even suspect it because I knew any other water would taste
so foul it would be like drinking poison. It’s a shame you never learned to
avoid poison, Geoffrey, so now I’ll let you die from it, as I should have done
in the first place, so many years ago.”

Geoffrey was moving his lips again, but no sound
was coming out this time. Blood bubbled to his lips and trickled out of the
side of his mouth.

“What’s that, Geoffrey? Or shall I call you by
your real name, seeing that you’re dying and all. Goodbye, Mr. Earl Duane
Stubbs.” Cupping her hand to her ear in a mocking manner, Arrosha pretended to
listen intently. “What’s that you’re trying to say, Earl? Help you? You want me
to help you? Not a chance. With all that bubbling blood running out of your
mouth, I’d have to say that you’re not long for this world at all. Not that it
matters, because I won’t miss you and the world won’t miss you. As a matter of
fact, no one will miss you now that Ben is gone. You’re complete and utter
white trash and I’m just glad not to have to listen to that phony, affected
accent of yours any longer.”

“And now, my dear,” she said. The moment I’d been
dreading, the moment at which she returned her full attention to me, had
arrived. “It’s your turn. But what to do with you, that’s the problem. As much
as I would love to indulge in as fitting an end to you as I gave to Geoffrey,
that amulet you wear won’t allow me the satisfaction. It blocks my efforts to
alter you, it won’t even let me get too near you. That frustrates me to no end,
you see, since, short of transmogrifying you, nothing would give me more
pleasure than to strangle the very life out of you with my bare hands. How
shall I deal with you, then? You’ve been far, far more trouble to me than
you’re worth. No one has been this much trouble since Virginia, Marcus and
Zachary. You’ve convinced me finally that despite my extremely generous offers,
you will not give up the necklace, so I’m just going to give up on this round
of the game, which, thanks to Edmond’s protection and Geoffrey’s extreme stupidity,
has been a complete and total fiasco. It’s taken a lot out of me. I’m tired and
I’m going to kill you. As I’ve told you before, it’s just a matter of time
before someone hands the amulet over to me, someone with less protection and
less dumb luck than you’ve had. Goodbye for now. I’ve had enough of you!”

Before I had a chance to react, without warning,
she motioned her arm in a large sweeping movement and I was rapidly thrown up
into the air and out of the room. I was floating weightless outside now, completely
powerless and terrified out of my mind, for nothing was holding me up but
Arrosha’s power. I realized that coming near the amulet was not a total
hindrance to her ability to hurt me. She let me hover in place for a few
seconds, completely at the mercy of a woman devoid of mercy, dangling above the
clouds with nothing underneath my feet except air, so high up that I couldn’t
even see the ground through the cloud cover. It was only at that point when,
like a character in a cartoon, I felt myself start crashing down as she let me
go.

My decent was so swift that my stomach seemed to
explode and turn inside out before it settled to remain, quivering, at the back
of my throat. Dizziness engulfed me and my brain shut down completely except
for the part that experienced terror. I heard a continuous earsplitting,
bloodcurdling scream that would not stop. I was so out of my mind that it took
me a fraction of a second to realize that the scream was coming from my own
vocal chords.

My disorientation from this violent jolt to my
nervous system was absolute. Under normal circumstances, I’m sure that I would
have passed out. But these circumstances were hardly normal and the dragon
amulet that I wore prevented unconsciousness. Since I was falling from such an
incredible height, the other parts of my mind actually had time to begin
working on a rudimentary level again. I knew it must have been the amulet
allowing me to think, because my mind would surely have turned to mush by now
without it.

My brain switched into overdrive and went, as it
often does in times of extreme trauma, into slow motion. Something in me
remembered seeing videos of parachutists free falling, so I put out my arms and
legs to catch an updraft. It worked, although not as well as if I’d been
wearing garments meant to catch the wind. At least I wasn’t plummeting any
longer; I was, instead, almost floating. I felt relief for a fraction of a
second, but only for a fraction of a second. Unlike those jumpers, I didn’t
have a parachute, so I wasn’t really free falling, just dropping to my death a
slower rate.

Had I had a parachute, I would, perhaps, have
marveled at the beautiful sunset with its fabulous oranges and pinks, purples
and blues that were reflecting so perfectly upon the sea and at the white caps
of the water’s gentle waves. I would, perhaps, have appreciated the vibrant
shades of green upon the earth below me.

But I didn’t have a parachute, so I instead of
beauty, I saw the earth merely as the instrument of my rapidly approaching
death. My horrible falling nightmares now made real, time slowed to a crawl as
wind whipped around me in the thick clouds. My own constant shrill and hopeless
screams continued to assault my ears.

I replayed my impending death over and over again
in what was left of my mind. Upon impact, my internal organs would explode
within my own skin, my bones would be crushed, my brain turned to mush in my
own horribly broken skull, all these a prelude before being finally splattered
across the landscape. Had my fall been from a shorter structure, a skyscraper
or a bridge, perhaps, I would probably not have had the time to ponder these
things. But the height from which I was falling was equivalent to that of being
sucked out of an airplane in mid-flight, higher even. The cruelty of the decent
was expanded, giving me plenty of time to run my brutal death over and over
again in my mind. I wondered if anyone falling from an airliner would actually
be able to stay conscious this long or if my cognizance was only one more
little perk of the necklace. I’d always been told that one’s life passed before
one’s eyes before death, but I didn’t find it so. While I mentally said goodbye
to my family, Carolyne and my cats, for the most part I saw only the continuous
loop of my death before my eyes, or at least my death as I imagined it was
going to be.

“I’m sorry, Edmond,” I apologized in my thoughts,
praying that despite Arrosha’s blocking of our mental link, he could somehow
still hear me. “I’ve failed you. I couldn’t help you. I am so sorry.”

Soon the atmosphere became too dense for me to
free fall any longer and I once again began to plummet. The plunge was making
my brain feel as if it would, at any second now, burst into a million particles
even before it struck solid earth. My rapid decent continued for far too long,
yet I was in no hurry for it to be over. I was dizzy and lightheaded, the
violent sickness in my stomach was unbearable, and yet my decent continued, its
velocity increasing. My previous expectation of continuing Rochere’s bloody
game was replaced with the anticipation of a very messy death when I finally
did hit land.

I no longer expected to hear my landing, for I now
knew I’d hear nothing. At my present velocity, I presumed that my ears would be
long gone before any sound could ever reach them. I now anticipated that I
would, for only a split second, feel the excruciating pain of my body exploding
into a thousand fragments at once upon hitting solid ground before I felt
nothing at all forever.

 I was now just below the clouds, fighting hard
for every breath I took. The air was passing me by so rapidly that I couldn’t
catch my breath; either that or my lungs were being compressed by the air
pressure. I didn’t know which, but I thanked God for his mercy as darkness
descended upon me and I finally began to pass out as the green, green ground
rose up at record speeds to meet my fragile body, soon to splatter it with red,
red blood. The amulet must have decided at long last that it would be more
humane to allow me to slip into merciful unconsciousness in this situation,
deciding not to keep me awake until the very moment I hit the ground. I
supposed that even the amulet decided it would be too much for me.

However, as I reached the verge of passing out, I
heard a strange noise.

“Whoosh, Whoosh.”

What sound was that? A dream, perhaps, a last,
final dream to calm my mind in my last, final moments?

“Whoosh, Whoosh.”

The sound grew louder and louder as it came closer
before becoming more and more muffled as my consciousness partially slipped
away. Then I felt my body hit something solid. There was no bloody death
awaiting me at the ground, it seemed, for I had not hit the ground. Instead of
the intense pain I’d been expecting, the “whooshing” sound had brought with it
a soft and yielding surface that was yet strong and sturdy. It quickly and
gently cradled me in a soft, steady embrace. I felt my swift decent being
rapidly slowed, my lungs once again able to fill easily with air. As my
consciousness returned, I looked up and saw the face of my rescuer. It was Ben.
He had somehow defied Arrosha, acted freely on his own accord, and flown down
to save me from the fate to which she had flung me. He lowered me to the ground
with his strong, sturdy wings, which he had now mastered, and he placed me ever
so gently upon the earth in the middle of a lush, yet strangely colorless,
tropical paradise. The verdant green ground, the blue sea and the sunset sky
I’d seen while falling had been, like so many things here, convincing, but not
actually real.

“Oh, Ben!” I said, crying with relief. “Thank you!
Thank you! You saved me! Thank you so much!” I hugged his huge gargoyle body
and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. While his skin looked like cold and rough
living stone, it was actually only about as tough as leather, which allowed him
to move. I studied his face and despite the deformity that Arrosha had placed
up him, there was none of the ugliness that she wanted to manifest. Despite his
infliction, his inherent kindness and goodness showed through, giving him, I
thought, a sort of puppylike quality. When I looked into his eyes, I could see
that Ben was definitely still in there, although his eyes were now soulful
pools of misery, moist with tears. He croaked out harshly, “help me”.

“I don’t know how, Ben,” I said apologetically,
truly sorry that I couldn’t rescue him the way that he had rescued me.

“Help me,” he croaked again as huge tears now
rolled down his cheeks.

“I’ll try,” I said. I didn’t know what to do, but
his predicament was breaking my heart. “I’ll do my best. But I don’t know where
to go from here. I don’t even know where we are.”

He was so crestfallen at my words that I quickly
added, making my words sound as cheerful as I could, for I didn’t want to let
on that I was as lost and desperate as he was, “Tell you what, Ben, let’s look
around and see what we can find. Maybe we’ll find a way home, okay?” I was
lying, but for the time being, I needed to make him feel better.

I knew that we were still in a part of Arrosha’s bizarre
kingdom, way off the map of the real world. But my words did their job and
seemed to cheer Ben up. I held out my hand and he took it in his own. It was
such an odd sensation holding hands with stone-finish living leather. We began
to pick our way slowly through the thick foliage. It was so quiet here as to be
unnerving. Rainforests are alive with the chatter of animals, but as at the
mansion, here not even the sound of a single bird could be heard. I wondered
why Arrosha never allowed animals. Was it because they were simply too hard or
impossible for her to manufacture? Or was it because they saw through her
facade? Ironic, wasn’t it, that someone who claimed to be such a great goddess,
creator of all Illeaocea, couldn’t even manage to conjure up an insect in her
world. The thought brought a very brief, sardonic smile to my lips.

We continued walking carefully though the lush
landscape, which, along with little color, surprisingly also had almost no
odor. Ben and I continued our journey along a path made so smooth in this
overgrown rainforest that I was sure that it had to be Arrosha’s doing. She
wanted us to travel this way, for she was leading us in the direction that she
wanted me to go. I didn’t fight it because it was the destination at which I’d
wind up eventually anyway. Besides, simply roaming seemed to give poor Ben some
temporary hope.

After walking just a short while, Ben already
needed a rest. Even though we’d both been through too much lately, Ben’s
gargoyle body was constructed more for flying than for walking. I had tried to
convince Ben to carry me up in the air with him, that it would be easier for
both of us and that we could see much more of the terrain that way, but as hard
as I tried to explain it to him, in his present state he simply wasn’t able to
comprehend. We were stuck on the ground, then, where the going was tougher for
us both. Other than for Ben’s comfort, it really didn’t matter in the end,
however. There would be no getting out of here, at least not by any
conventional method, any more than there had been from the plantation house. We
were stuck in the unreal world of Arrosha’s making.

When we came upon a large, rather flat rock, I
decided that this was a good place to sit and rest. Ben was breathing hard by
the time we sat down. As for myself, I knew I’d been under too much stress for
too long a period of time now and I wondered how much more of it I could take
before I cracked. What had passed as my “vacation” had all been vastly beyond
my normal endurance level, yet I wasn’t even getting punchy. I was doing
uncharacteristically well, a sign that whatever energy Edmond had managed to
give me had greatly increased my normal stamina level and that the necklace
amulet was apparently keeping me energetic and strong.

I had to admit that, in spite of herself, Arrosha
had played a large hand in my physical heartiness as well. The effects of the
essence she supplied us had proven themselves to be more or less permanent, for
despite everything, it had shown no sign of wearing off. The necklace long ago
negated the water’s negative effects, but its positive effects were still with
me. Arrosha hadn’t counted on these things remaining for so long. She’d given
them to me only because she hadn’t thought her plan would fail this time. Even
so, I expected that my being healthy and strong when she executed me would only
provide the fodder she needed to make the ultimate task more enjoyable for her.

As we sat resting upon the rock, Ben began to grow
fidgety as his huge, bat-like gargoyle ears perked up. In this all too quiet
jungle he had heard something. I strained to listen, but things still sounded
quiet to me. Then he picked up a scent and stood still, looking around to
locate it. Soon, my inferior sense of smell caught the odor as well. It was the
death flower scent from Arrosha’s office, gently wafting our way. As I stood
up, also, I heard the sound that Ben had picked up earlier. It was an odd
sound, a cracking of leaves mixed with gurgling and breathing. And it was
coming toward us.

I spotted it first. Among the colorless plants and
flowers, something blue-black quivered. It shook and shivered and then began
moving forward, coming toward us as it grew in a time-lapse fashion. Ben, with
his poor gargoyle eyesight, spotted it after I did and he grunted with
displeasure. As it continued growing, it revealed enough of itself for me to
recognize it. It was the huge, leathery black plant from one of my dreams after
my struggle with Arrosha in the shower vortex. It was the black flower from which
Edmond had warned me to stay away.

 “Ben, let’s get out of here.” I said. We began
walking away from it as fast as the underbrush would let us. “That thing’s
dangerous.”

Ben and I were too late in reacting, however. I
heard a whip-like noise coming from behind us as something wrapped itself
around my legs. It was a thick, black, leathery rope, the flower’s tongue
emerging from its center. It pulled me off of my feet and began dragging me in
the direction of the black flower. It happened so fast that Ben didn’t have
time to react.

“Ben, help me!” I screamed, vainly grabbing hold
of one of the jungle floor’s vines to slow my abduction.

He ran over as fast as he could and grabbed my arm
firmly but the strength of the black tongue was so intense that it continued to
inch me toward the plant that was now making gurgling, sucking noises. Its pull
was unyielding and although Ben’s gargoyle muscles were extremely strong, his
new hands were awkward and I slid from his grasp. The tongue now pulled me
toward the flower rapidly and the vine onto which I’d been clinging with my
other hand gave way and came up by its roots. Once these lifelines were gone,
the tongue now rapidly yanked me up to the flower and toward its center. The
thick, black petals began to close about me, working with its rope tongue to
force me into itself. Catching onto one of its inner petals with both hands and
hanging onto to it with all my strength in a last ditch effort to save myself
as I was pulled into the flower’s center, I could feel its muscular
contractions sucking me downward into it as it began to devour me.