Memoria - Chapter 1 - Genesia

"In Genesia of beginnings,1

darkness fills an innocent child,2

consumed by the madness of the first,3

awaken now the phoenix" - Infinitum Liberati4

Ryan opens the door to the bathroom; an empty creaking sound is followed by a soft cold draft as the wind blows through the window into the passage behind him. Slowly, and not a step out of place, he quietly turns around and silently closes the door, watching as the curtain above the window settles down once again. Sighing he steps over to the cabinet by the sink and slowly opens the door, avoiding the noise he knows will follow if opened quickly. Everything about this he has practiced for days, every event perfectly thought out. He looks into the back of the cabinet for the package and finds it after a moment's search. The package is wrapped in cloth, so as not to give a hint of what it holds. But Ryan knows this is what he wants. 5

Silently swinging the cabinet door shut, he opens the cloth to reveal an intensely sharp blade, perfect for his plans. Opening the tap, the soft gurgle of water splashing in the basin arises, and he glances instinctively toward the door, expecting the worst. His heart beats faster now, a dull throb, like a marcher's drum in his chest, urging him on. Holding his right wrist under the warm water, he takes the blade, under his thumb and positions it near where the hand meets the wrist, a slightly hard spot of bone and skin. The heat dulls his sense of feeling. Gently he applies pressure, watching as a small drop of red appears and is immediately washed away by the water. That is all he needs, quickly he slices downwards over his wrist. 6

The effect is immediate; a red stream emerges from the deep cut, flowing with the water into the basin. There is no pain, the warm water ensures that. Ryan closes his eyes, feeling the strange sensation as his life blood flows out, away, away from this pain he feels day in and day out. Nothing can hurt him now. Nobody can stop him. This is what he wants, and this is his peace, his choice, his right. 7

Already he has trouble standing over the basin, so he sits on the toilet next to it, still holding his hand in the water. Some pain is there but he doesn't care anymore, everything begins to fade, like a half developed photo. He takes a deep breath, but even that is tiresome. He leans back as his hand falls to his side, the previous stream of blood now just a silent drip... darkness falls, peace at last....8

The alleyway was dark and foreboding, the mild wind gently blew loose papers around, making gentle rustling sounds like whispers coming from the dark corners. Jason's skin crawled every time he heard those gentle scratching noises, it reminded him of spiders walking on window glass. Every so often a can would fall, startling him to quicken his pace. He knew that walking here at this time of night was asking for trouble. Might just as well hang a sign around his neck asking to get mugged or killed, and with the amount of cash he's carrying, this would be a really bad thing. With a slight hesitation he darted around a dumpster and started walking faster. 9

Nobody around as far as he could see, the eerie emptiness urging him on. Up ahead the street loomed invitingly, basked in the sickly yellow glare of streetlights. He mused over this, there was a time he could remember faintly when streetlights were a novelty. Glancing quickly over his shoulders to see only an empty alley, he thought that these memories must be part of his imagination, and without a second thought dismissed them. He quickened his pace, and somewhere behind him a trashcan fell over, an explosion of noise that made his heart skip a beat. He stopped, turned, and looked; ready to make a run for it.10

From behind an old, blue painted dumpster appeared a large disheveled man, his eyes hidden in shadows. He was holding a knife and by his stance it was clear he had ill intentions.11

"Hey man, what you doing here? Feeling suicidal?" he yelled from a few feet away, pointing the knife in Jason's direction. 12

This was followed by laughter from somewhere behind him, and Jason spun around to face back to the street he had been walking towards. Only about fifteen meters away a second man had appeared, a bit shorter than the first, but no less threatening. Jason's heart was racing, and he glanced around for some possible means of escape. He could see the occasional car going by with passengers, safe in their own little world, while he was clearly surrounded by people who were not as likable as he was.13

Although the alley had been clear a moment ago, there were now two threatening men obstructing his way from the peaceful haven of streetlights and passing cars. Jason glanced back.14

The larger of the two, dressed in a black jersey and dark navy blue jeans, smiled, revealing teeth that almost bordered on carnivorous. He started approaching.15

"We going to cut you open, boy!" and with this he motioned his buddy closer.16

Jason glanced left and right, hoping for a side alley. All he could see was a ladder to his left, a few meters away, and clearly too high. He wasn't exactly the world's best athlete. Meanwhile the two men came closer, forcing Jason up against the wall. Strangely enough, Jason felt no fear. Strange, considering he had no weapon, no means of protecting himself against the knife behind, and the freshly revealed tire iron in front.17

"I... I have no money" he said, trying to sound convincing, and failing miserably. A voice from memory spoke up, his mother, telling him he was a bad liar and always would be.18

"Yeah right dude, like... sure..." the guy with the fast flicking blade uttered, while waving the blade closer to Jason, catching the light from a nearby window and reflecting it into his eyes. Jason stared at the flashes of light, the stark white glare seeming closer and more hypnotic by the moment. No longer did he notice the men coming closer and obviously intending to dish out a world of hurt. 19

Sound faded away as the flash, flash, flash of light washed over him.20

The shorter one struck, lunging at Jason, hoping to tackle him off his feet. With a cool sidestep Jason dodged the attack causing the man to make impact with the wall. He sprawled to one side, looking up at his prey, wondering why this tactic hadn't worked.21

The larger of the two, now truly perplexed at Jason's seemingly calm, slashed forward, hoping to feed his blade some hot blood, but all it ate was air.22

"Genesia" Jason muttered as he grabbed the knife wielding punk's wrist, took the knife, and abruptly snapped the man's wrist.23

The result was instantaneous. A scream arose from his throat. A scream that would have hurt Jason's ears, were it not for a certain tire iron making hard contact with the back of his head, plunging him into sweet darkness.24

Jason's eyes opened, his stare sweeping over the ceiling. In his mind he saw two boys talking.25

"Here man you should listen to this, it's good" the first one said, handing something over to the other.26

He yelled, whatever that was it scared Jason horribly, faint recollection nagging at the edge of his mind.27

He sat upright, uncaring of where he was. He had to stop those boys. They shouldn't touch those things.28

The boy turned away, his crisp white uniform shirt reflecting a brilliant white glare from the morning sunlight in stark contrast to the vile things he was holding. He couldn't see what they were, but to Jason it looked like small dark clouds of oil, a strong sense of evil emanating from them. The boy spotted another group of school children talking in a circle, and deftly went over to them handing out more of those things. They didn't seem to notice the darkness that swirled around their hands from touching it, nor the man standing off to one side, a small smile on his face.29

"No!" Jason yelled, falling down on the floor from trying to stand up. "Don't!"30

"Ryan, hey man, want to hear something amazing?" the first boy asked, turning around in his chair to talk with another boy with short cropped blond hair. Ryan glanced at the teacher in front who was oblivious of their conversation. Slowly he nodded, "Yeah sure, what you got?". The first boy smiled and handed over another one of those filthy things. "Try this" he said, still smiling, unaware of the man in the doorway looking at them, smiling his awful smile, his eyes burning like two smoldering coals. Ryan glanced at the thing before placing it in his pocket.31

Jason swung his arms at the man he saw in his mind, hoping to get him away from the class. His fist cracked against somebody, but he was unaware that his actions took place somewhere else. He felt a needle prick his arm, and quickly sleep overtook him. As darkness faded in, the last he saw were those two smoldering eyes looking at him, laughing.32

Images flashed through his waking mind. Sounds glided up from memory in a tangled way that made him feel as if he was swimming toward consciousness. Struggling, he tried to make sense of the tatters of emotions he felt, the sadness of losing a brother, the smell of burning hair as his sister burns in a fire, the laughter of friends joined in merry making.33

With a groan Jason opened his eyes, squinting against the winter sunlight filtered through a window, and the merciless pounding in his head. As quick as it came, the images left, leaving him breathless. He remembered being kicked by a horse, the result almost feeling the same as this, but a bit worse since he had to put the poor thing down. He still felt guilty about that. Old Sam's horse may have gone a bit wild, but it was still a good animal.34

Jason blinked, his mouth was dry and he was trying not to cry from the tremendous pain in his head. Slowly his vision cleared to reveal a nurse standing over him.35

"So, you're awake. About time too, we were starting to get a bit worried there. Do you know your name?"36

"Jason Bell" he replied with a dry wheeze.37

"Good, good. It is you. You probably want to know what happened, right?" She moved to one side and filled his glass with water. Helping him sit upright, she ran through the details.38

"Apparently you were mugged, but it got a little more violent. Doctors say the head injury caused you to black out and lose some blood. Tire iron found nearby, must have been it. You were found by a local garbage collector early in the morning. He thought you were dead" She giggled at this as if it was the biggest joke on earth. 39

He didn't see the humor. She continued, "At any rate, he called the police, they came and brought you to the clinic, and since then you've been..." She trailed off at this point. Jason looked her in the eye, but she avoided his gaze. 40

"Drink up, the doctor said you should get some fluids", she mentioned, still avoiding his stare. Slowly he sipped water, trying to figure out what she wasn't telling.41

The nurse (Beth according to her name tag) stroked the over-bleached linen of the stark white bed with anxious fingers, occasionally stealing a glimpse at her charge to see if he was looking away so she could escape the uncomfortable situation.42

Jason looked around him, noticing for the first time the relatively bare room with empty beds. In the far corner lay another patient, deep asleep with an IV tube running to a bottle hanging above him like a guillotine blade. Around Jason monitors beeped softly, wires ran from his chest and he felt caught up in a bizarre spider's web. He sneaked a glance at Beth, who answered before he could ask.43

"Six weeks Mr. Bell. You've been in Enderton Clinic for almost two months" she spoke, at last looking him in the eye, her shoulders dropping in dejection, as if the news was the final straw.44

He looked at her, his heart racing. How could a single blow to the head cause six weeks worth of unconsciousness? He sipped his water as Beth deftly removed his IV and monitor plugs. She paused a moment before hurrying off, no longer able to bear the silence.45

He put the glass down on the table with a grunt of effort, the headache threatening to cast him back into dark unconsciousness. Throwing the light blanket off, he stood on shaky legs, wanting more than anything to ascertain that they, at least, were still in working order. Strange, he thought, that he could still walk after being bedridden for so long. Gently he walked to the nearest door, hoping it was a toilet. He seriously needed to let go of some six weeks worth of pent up pessimism. He opened the door, and luck held. He relieved himself, and turned to stare at himself in the mirror.46

His dark grey eyes stared back, revealing a depth to him not normally shown. Jason always considered himself to be in perfect shape, even if his doctor did encourage him to be more active in the outdoors, away from all the books he surrounded himself with. Books! With a start Jason remembered he had a store to get back to. He opened the door of the lavatory, only to find the doctor waiting for him at his bed. The sunlight that shone so brightly earlier was now leaving a hazy trail, barely illuminating anything, making the room seem more dark and sinister as each second of its descent elapsed.47

He grimaced with pain and gently walked over to where the doctor stood with his back turned toward Jason, idly leafing through the chart. He turned around as Jason approached, smiling gently.48

"Mr. Bell, I'm doctor Wettart, so glad to see you're awake. And how are you feeling today?"49

Jason grasped the outstretched hand, the sudden touch causing a strange feeling of unease to settle over him. With a sigh he moved over to the window, staring at the buildings across Jackson Street, with a small spot of green further to the left belying the presence of a park. The few street trees swayed gently in the wind, their leafless branches like claws scratching at the sky. A few cars cruised by, those without headlights seemed like illuminated ghosts by the other spots of light in the growing darkness. Further along the street, but not within view of his window, lay Printed, Jason's bookstore. 50

Owner, manager and sometimes client, Jason moved to Enderton from Pretoria roughly four months ago, hoping to establish a life for him away from the mindless scampering of the rat race. After much deliberation, he had decided to find somewhere small and peaceful in an attempt to make something of a future for himself. That is how he found himself in the quiet little town of Enderton, just twenty minutes drive east of Sasolburg, where the land was as flat as a dead man's vital signs and the grassland beckoned invitingly for travelers to lose themselves in the rolling fields of grey-brown. Nestled deep within this quiet peace was the only town, with a main street that ran from the Gauteng-Freestate border and on toward some unknown destination. Nothing more than a small tourist attraction for those who wish to experience the calm of a farming village. Population under ten thousand, most of these from outlying farms, Enderton was their only link with civilization.51

"Besides a blinding headache, I'm fine" Jason answered, as the last glow of day left his face, casting him in light shadow.52

"That is to be expected after an injury such as yours, you were very lucky."53

"I didn't know this town had such people. That is one of the main reasons I came here, to get away from that." Jason answered, turning to face the doctor. A shiver of pain flashed across the doctor's eyes, as if what Jason said had struck some deep, sensitive chord.54

"It wasn't always this way, just recently the neighborhood seems to have gone downhill, and now with all these suicides..." he trailed off, and Jason sensed his reluctance to continue. Something told Jason that the doctor was hiding something.55

"You're stalling doctor" he said, smiling gently at Wettart, hoping to encourage him to tell Jason what had happened during those six weeks. He wondered why they were the only two in attendance. Surely the nurses would find something like a six week sleep interesting. Not to mention the local newspaper - a small operation publishing a few adverts, some outsider news and a swap column - would have sent their only reporter to get the story. Anything to push up sales and bring some interest in the sometimes dreary lives of Enderton's population.56

Wettart's mouth twitched in a smile, but immediately became serious again, which was a shame, he could have been quite handsome if he smiled more often.57

"You haven't been lying in bed the whole time Mr. Bell" he began.58

"Call me Jason"59

The doctor looked at Jason for a moment, trying to decide if he should forgo professionalism for a more direct approach.60

"Very well... Jason. As I was saying, you had some cases of sleepwalking. And sometimes you spoke too. Can you remember any of this?" he asked, but his face already belied the answer he expected.61

"Last thing I remember was a dark alley and a flashing light, that's about it."62

The doctor nodded in agreement as Jason spoke.63

"Pretty much what we thought too. The nurses wanted to see you but we thought it best to keep you calm and rested until you feel strong enough to go home."64

Sleepwalking, Jason mused. He could remember a few times as a little boy he had done that. Nothing unusual, all people walk in their sleep at times. Sick or elderly people do too. He wasn't elderly, not yet anyway. Being in his late twenties made him increasingly aware of the risk of bad eating habits, lack of exercise and a receding hairline. But at twenty eight, he still had a long way to go before forgetting common things became a real problem. As for being sick, that could be it, he was, after all, in a clinic.65

Jason glanced around the room once again, noticing someone else in the room. At the far end, in a darkening corner, stood a teenage boy, looking directly at them. Jason thought this to be strange, but dismissed him as a hospital volunteer, or some typical teenager with a few problems, getting slammed with community service, the usual story with these kids nowadays.66

"When you feel ready, a policeman is waiting outside to escort you home." 67

And with that he left Jason to his own thoughts. Glancing back to the corner, the kid was gone. Probably left with the doctor he thought, as he once again wondered what kind of medicine a clinic carries for a blinding headache.68

The squad car hummed over the tar as they drove silently through the dark night, the occasional car passing like a silent ship to an unknown destination. The driver was officer Mojatau, one of the few police officers that Enderton had in its little precinct. Crime in such a small town usually circled around minor bar brawls, occasional late night drag racing on the main street - dumb farm boys wanting to impress their latest catch - and some cattle theft. The main job of the local police was to maintain a presence, leaving more serious crimes to Vanderbijlpark or Sasolburg's officers. With the recent spate of crimes happening in Enderton, all the local officers felt left out, as out-of-town men streamed in, leaving the locals to do the minor tasks - like driving a mugging victim home from the clinic.69

The car pulled up to his house, a small three bedroom townhouse with a tiny lawn at the back and a postbox in the front. Everything so picturesquely perfect, that he had known it was for him the moment he laid eyes on it. Now in the dark, with not a single light on, it was all strangely unfamiliar. Like returning home after a long voyage, only to find things seemed different, realizing it wasn't the place that had changed, but yourself.70

Along the street similar houses stood, each dark, as the world slept. Jason climbed out of the car and briefly glanced at them, wondering if tomorrow they would seem different to him too. As he turned towards the house, a faint noise reached him.71

"Did that sound like..." the officer on the other side of the car started to ask, but Jason answered before he could finish.72

"A scream? Yes." His heart skipped a beat.73

"From where?"74

"Next door, come on!" and he started moving in the direction of the Evans's house, not knowing what to expect.75