Chapter 2:
The warehouse was located on the outskirts of town just off the highway. By the looks of it, it had been abandoned long ago and quickly forgotten. Almost every window was broken and the roof had collapsed in many places, yet they could not enter. Every door was marked with a sigil drawn in blood: a circle surrounded by a number of ancient Enochian letters. There were others as well, invisible to the human eye, but there all the same. They glowed faintly in the morning light.
"It's no good," someone said off to the side. The voice was muffled, as if it were speaking through a wall. "There's no way in." Turning to look at the speaker, all that could be seen was a brilliant white light, shining in the place where a human body should have been. It was blinding, burning and soon the warehouse began to twist and bulge, its greys and browns and blacks blurring together until the whole picture was incomprehensible.
Then it all turned intensely white, the only thing left the blood sigil, pulsing for a few moments before everything went black.
Klavier frowned from his position in the passenger seat of the car. It was the first time Kristoph had let him out of the house since their last medical visit. He rubbed his temples wearily; the buzzing noise was back, more intense than it had ever been before. Klavier had grown used to the constant sound, even enjoyed it at times, but now it felt like he'd been bashing his head against the wall for hours. Something had changed.
Kristoph didn't seem to notice his distress, happily humming to the song currently being played on the radio. Klavier wondered if he'd ever let him listen to his own music for once; he highly doubted it. They'd had that conversation months ago, when Klavier was still trying to actively regain his memory. Kristoph had vehemently denied him the opportunity and Klavier hadn't asked since.
He pursed his lips, considering channel surfing. Maybe I'll instantly recognise my music if I hear it. As he went to turn the dial, his brother stopped the car suddenly and shifted it into park.
"We're here, brother," Kristoph announced, undoing his seatbelt. "Is something the matter?" he asked after he realised Klavier was not going to answer.
"It's nothing, Kristoph, just a little headache," he replied, waving away his brother's concern. Kristoph didn't look convinced, but he let it go; Klavier had been acting strange all morning.
He'd dreamt that odd dream again last night, the one with the derelict warehouse and blinding light. Every night for the past week he'd dreamt it, but never had the buzzing been so painful afterwards. He could sense a change in the noise, but since he'd given up trying to decipher its meaning months ago, he was at a loss to what it might mean.
He walked alongside his brother down the footpath, trying to distract himself from his headache by concentrating on the way the morning sun warmed his skin.
Kristoph was blathering away – something about finding a special kind of oil. Klavier did not know him to be an avid cook in his time post-amnesia, but his brother had the most peculiar interests.
Kristoph stopped abruptly in front of a shop decorated with an array of weird symbols and pictures. Inside, the store was cluttered with old books in ancient languages, necklaces and bracelets with menacing looking charms and small cloth bags full of herbs, stones and twigs.
Behind the counter, an old lady with very long white hair and a deep purple tunic greeted them. Klavier tuned out her wiry voice and opted to look around the room some more. On the wall and ceiling behind the counter, strange and familiar symbols were haphazardly painted on. Klavier recognised the cross and fish from Christianity, the Jewish star and a number of Asian characters. There were many other symbols up there as well: moons, flowers, spears and scales.
Kristoph called out to him, shaking him from his reverie; he'd come away empty handed. Just what had his brother come here for anyway? Peculiar interests indeed.
As they stepped out of the store, the glare from the sun blinded them momentarily. And then the buzzing intensified even more.
He groaned in pain, bending over and holding his head in his hands. Kristoph had come to his side immediately, but the throbbing in his head made it hard for him to register anything outside his own body. Somehow he'd ended up in Kristoph's car, seat belted to the chair. His brother said he was going to the pharmacy to get something stronger to ease the pain, or at least that's what Klavier thought he said. The buzzing had made it almost impossible to hear anything else.
He could almost feel his brain pulsing in his hands in time with the buzzing. And as soon as it had started it stopped. Klavier sighed loudly and reclined back in the seat, closing his eyes in relief.
Silence. His head was still throbbing, though the pain had diminished greatly. Slowly, the sounds of the outside world came flooding back to him: cars driving past, children laughing, dogs yapping. Everything was peaceful once more.
Klavier opened his eyes and took a look around at the street before him. It was a Saturday; so many young families were out and about enjoying the sunshine. A few metres down the sidewalk, a little girl was struggling to walk her dog as she tried to eat her rapidly melting ice cream.
He smiled ruefully at the sight. With no memory before the last half year, Klavier felt like an outsider in this sleepy little town. To be honest, he didn't even know if this was where he had lived before the accident anyway.
Whilst he was musing, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, like when you have the feeling your being watched. Klavier scanned the footpath, but didn't see anyone looking back at him. However the strange sensation wouldn't leave him and he shifted nervously in his seat.
Kristoph had gone across the street to get his medicine and so Klavier looked in the side mirror to watch for his approach. After a delivery truck pulled away from the curb, that's when he saw him.
The man was standing perfectly still as busy people rushed past him. He was wearing a tan trench coat over a rather dishevelled looking suit and an ugly blue beanie. The man was staring intently in his direction, though Klavier did not think he could see him through the tint of the car windows or the reflection of the side mirror.
Klavier stared back at the man, unable to take his eyes away. There was something about him that seemed awfully familiar. Perhaps he had known him before his accident.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't see Kristoph's approach. His brother opened the driver's door suddenly and he almost jumped in surprise.
"Here you are, brother," Kristoph said, tossing the medicine to him. Klavier fumbled the catch and quickly looked back in the side mirror to see the mysterious man again. But where he had been standing, a young couple were reading a tourist map.
Kristoph pulled out of the parking space and started for home. The whole drive, Klavier was silent – he couldn't shake the feeling he knew the trench coat-wearing man.