Prologue
It has been a long time and a lot has happened during all those years of my absence. I am sorry for not being here. But in the years that passed and those that are behind me, a lot of pain and misery came into my life… so much that it numbed me and rendered me incapable of thought, inspiration and denied me the will to do anything that mattered.
So this is my way of putting all that behind me and hopefully finding a light at the end of all this darkness that has surrounded me all those years.
But the funny thing is that no matter what was going on, there was always a little afterthought at the back of my mind, like a distant almost forgotten dream… and that was my stories.
So no matter how much it costs me, I am planning to finish it, this time.
This is the last and final installment of the series and it has taken me a long time to figure out a way to connect them all in a way. I am sorry to say that it would be best if you have read all five previous installments (the Paces trilogy and this one) to completely understand the conclusion. I didn't plan on connecting this trilogy to the first one, but as usual, the idea came to me in a dream and I just couldn't let it go. I could put in here a summary of what has transpired so far but I won't because I don't want to spoil the surprise to those who have been following the stories so far.
Not all previous characters will be making an appearance.
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Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this story belong to themselves.
WARNING: This story contains extreme violence, serious angst, psychological trauma, M/M relations and religious themes. If you feel uncomfortable with any of the above, please don't read. Some of the issues handled in the chapters to come do not express the true beliefs of the writer. Feel free for any questions, criticism and observations.
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Now… like I have said before…
Close the door behind you.
Turn off the light.
Are you alone?
Good.
Don't be afraid.
Come in… let us take the final drop into the abyss.
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Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream
A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe
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He opens his eyes and they feel dry. He blinks and they sting but after a few times, they don't hurt any more. He looks around him. He is standing on the pavement in a big city. Tall buildings around him, big stores and bright neon signs surround him.
It might be New York. He doesn't recall… maybe Chicago. It is night and it's hard to tell. There are no people around him, which is strange. A city this big! And in a central place like this, it should be bursting with life. But there is no one. It feels strange and he is no stranger to weird.
Then he realizes there is something else wrong. He ears pop and the air starts to grow thin; like they do when he is in an airplane.
Then all sounds are silenced. He feels like he is a void. He reaches and touches a stop sign by the side of the road. It starts to vibrate and the dissolves into sand. The ground beneath his feet also vibrates. In the distance he can see the landscape beginning to change. Tall sky scrapers fold onto themselves, like a piece of paper folding in two and then in four.
The concrete pavement under him is shifting and turns into sand much like the stop sign a few moments ago.
Then he realizes the air smells differently. It is saltier… He closes his eyes. This rapid change although doesn't scare him, it makes him dizzy. He closes his hands into fists and waits.
When he feels the change coming to a halt, he opens his eyes again. After all he has experienced and learnt so far, there are not many things that surprise him anymore.
He finds himself standing on top of a dune; no trees around him, just a large steep mountainside on his right, extending into the sea before him. It's night and although he can't see any clouds in the sky, the moon is nowhere to be seen. Strangely, he finds that he can see clearly in a big distance. His eyes travel from the mountainside to the shore and his gaze falls upon a form lying on the sand. Half the body is in the water, the gentle waves licking the right side of the form.
Mark Callaway is certain the water is cold because every time he exhales he can see his breath coming out in white clouds. The form shows no signs of life. He decides to go down and take a closer look. He can't shake the nagging feeling that he or the form before him is not supposed to be here. He descends from the dune and takes a few more steps towards the form.
It is a man.
He takes one more step and freezes in place. His eyes open wide and his lips open to a silent gasp. His mind races and his fingers become ice cold. He simply cannot take another step.
This is not possible.
The man starts to move.
"No" Mark whispers, his breath feeling colder, "It cannot be… you are dead!"
Mark takes a small step back feeling his breath quicken. The man opens his eyes slowly and his hands reach up and touch his own face, as if he is waking up from a long deep sleep. He doesn't seem to acknowledge the Dead Man's presence behind him.
Mark keeps staring at him. He makes no mistake. Those blond hair, the tall frame of the body, muscular and tattooed, and those green eyes he had last seen many many years ago.
"It is not possible" he says aloud.
Upon hearing those words, the man's head turns around and looks at Mark. He looks lost, confused and maybe afraid. But he doesn't look scared of him. Maybe because Mark has the same look upon his face. He has been around for many years to know the difference between dream and reality.
And he has been around even longer to know that once you are dead, you cannot come back to life. And Mark knows this is not a dream. He went to sleep last night and he woke up here without any knowledge of how he got there…
Or who brought him here.
But the sight of the man in front of him makes him realize that the waiting is over. If what he sees is real, then the board is set and the pieces are indeed, once again, moving… The last remaining horsemen must be making a move.
And if the dead are coming to life, then he must prepare for the final battle.
He continues to stare the man, who is now up on his feet.
"Where am I?" he asks.
The words echo in Mark's ears waking him up from his thoughts. He has no answer. But he has a question.
"Who are you?"
The blond man blinks a few times and looks at his own body, as if looking at it for the first time. He stutters.
"I… I don't know… I ca… I can't remember" he says, fear filling him. He looks at his hands and steps back, his feet touching the cold water. "Help me… please" he pleads as his breath quickens and his chest feels like it's about to explode.
Mark realizes the sincerity of the feelings the man expresses but he keeps a little of the suspicion and his guard up. He knows too well the games the demons play. And sometimes the vessels don't know they are possessed until the very end.
"Will you help me?" he asks again, his voice trembling… maybe from fear… maybe from the cold.
Mark knows he can't leave him here… wherever here is. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say. Friend or foe, it is better if he takes the man with him, back home… back to Jeff, despite the dangers it may bring. Leaving him alone is just not an option. Not at this time. Not if the horsemen are going to be making their move soon.
"I will try and help you, but you have to come with me"
The blond man shakes his head agreeing. By now his arms are wrapped around his body, the cold having spread to his entire body.
They take a few steps in the sand, leaving the sea behind them. The sound of their steps in the sand is soothing. They reach the top of the dune.
"Where are we?" he asks again.
Mark is silent for a few moments. Finally he says.
"Not far from home"
"Where are we going?"
"Home… we are going home"