Chapter 12: The Darkness
By X-treme X-taggano (backfire@subdimension.com)

More darkness . . .

I started to pray silently to myself that I hadn't returned to hell . . . I looked around through the pitch blackness that surrounded me. I felt totally helpless, realizing I was in the middle of nowhere in complete darkness. I started to quiver uncontrollably, fear taking it's effect on my stomach as I realized my situation. That sewer had taken me to the resort area of town, but I had no idea if I was in the normal town or the nightmare town. Stranded . . .

I put my hand out for a moment, looking for some sign that I hadn't gone back to hell . . . some sign . . . anything to assure me that I wasn't stuck in the nightmare world.

I sighed as I felt a snowflake fall into the palm of my hand.

So this was the normal town . . . thank God. My chances of survival were higher . . . if I was alive in the first place. But the darkness that shrouded me was too great. I needed a new battery for my flashlight, and I needed it now! I couldn't see my hand in front of my face . . . much less than the street I walked on.

I started to search through my pocket, hoping to find something that might run on batteries. Maybe something I had used the same size . . . which was, unfortunately, a nine volt battery for this particular model. I certainly couldn't think of any electronic device that I would carry with one of those . . .

It was then that my hand made contact with the radio I had picked up..

I quickly took it out my pocket, searching desperately for the battery compartment. I could only really on my sense of touch, so I hoped I would soon find the ridged area that went over the opening. I soon found it and yanked the latch off. I felt inside the hole for a moment and then found the square shaped battery. Then I turned the radio upside down and let the battery fall into my hand.

Just what I needed . . .

I then discarded the radio, realizing there was no use having one without a battery, and pulled out the flashlight from my coat pocket. I did a battery compartment search on it and found the latch. I let the old battery fall out and put the new one in. I then closed the compartment up and flipped on the switch.

A bright light shined once more. I laughed, realizing I had just fixed my flashlight.

And Harry said . . . let there be light!

I looked down the street. I was next to some broken home, roaches crawling out the sides. The walls had caved in . . . as if the house was intentionally destroyed. Why someone would want to destroy what looked like a nice house was beyond me, but I guessed it was none of my business.

I ran down the small path made of grass until I saw the city street in front of me. To my left, I noticed a huge sign . . . almost like a bulletin board. I walked up to it, realizing it was nothing more than a large map of the city. "Information" it said in large, black letters across the top. At the bottom were some random notes and facts about this part in town. I also noticed a small square holder at the bottom of the display. It had something it it . . .

Smaller maps!

I grabbed one immediately. How convenient! This was obviously the place the town wanted to be more well known in, so they displayed maps so I could find my way around easier! Fantastic! I quickly opened it, exploring it with my index finger. Now if Cheryl was walking out past the lake . . . then she probably went off to one of the docks. Maybe she had just walked down one of the piers and Cybil hadn't seen it due to the distance and the mist.

There was, indeed, a dock down at the west end of town. I figured I should make my way down there . . . and quickly. Who knows where Cheryl might have ended up by now? I looked down the dark street in front of me. This was going to be a long trip . . . but hopefully, it would be the last one I would have to take for a while.

I started to run down the street, hoping that no monsters would be out. Fortunately, I hadn't seen any yet . . . causing me to believe that I shouldn't have to turn off my flashlight and conceal myself in the darkness. The air was still cold, as usual, but it did keep me alert. If it were warm, I might have become victim to drowsiness. The stinging cold kept me aware of my senses, however, as I ran past the dim houses.

I leapt at the sound of a man's scream.

I suddenly stopped where I was and looked around. Who the hell was that?! It sounded . . . like a man. I looked left and right, only seeing buildings. No one in sight. I shrugged. Maybe the scream was just the product of my twisted imagination.

My thoughts changed instantly as I heard a gunshot.

It came from . . . the bar! I saw a large building with an old sign over it that read "Annie's Bar" and the door was wide open. Someone must have been attacked in there and he was probably trying to defend himself. The large, dark yellow building seemed to call my name . . . and I went in there without even knowing who I was saving. Anyone deserved to live just as much as I did.

I looked around. I could here someone yelling still, but I had no idea where he was. It was coming from the other side of the pool tables, though. I quickly ran around them, trying to find the man and hopefully save him.

I suddenly gasped. Dr. Kaufmann!

A monster was on top of him . . . not like one I had seen before. It looked like those furry creatures . . . only, skinless. A skinless teddy bear from hell trying to take a bite out of his throat. I noticed the creature had long claws . . . no doubt used for killing it's victims. He then stared at me for a moment, his eyes blood shot in terror.

"Harry?! Is that you?!" he screamed. "Help me! Get this damn thing off me!"

The tone of his voice . . . he was pleading. I quickly pulled out my gun. I had to aim carefully, as where I couldn't shoot Kaufmann. I closed one eye and aimed for the creature's head. I then pulled the trigger.

The monster went flying off Kauffman and onto the floor beside him. Kauffman quickly got to his feet and kicked the monster's heart. He had apparently killed it right then . . . apparently, my bullets weren't enough to kill the monsters that lurked in this hell.

He then looked at me. "Thank you . . ." he said, almost ashamed to admit that he needed help. "What the hell is that thing?!"

I shook my head. "I have no idea. I've seen a few of them out there, though . . ." I wasn't lying, either. I had seen a few . . . but the ones I had seen had fur . . . not as threatening, although still very capable of killing.

Kaufmann picked up his briefcase, and then his pistol, which I was guessing he had dropped when the teddy bear from hell attacked him. "Did you find a way out?!" he asked, almost anxiously.

"No . . . " I muttered. "The town's completely blocked off."

Kaufmann looked up. "Well, this madness can't go on forever!" he said confidently. "The military will probably be sent in soon. All we can do is hope that we can survive that long"

"D-do you really thing they'll find us?" I asked.

Kaufmann laughed. "Of course they will!" he said. "You don't really think something like this is going to be ignored, do you? This is a big city, for Godsakes!"

I nodded. "Yeah, I hope you're right."

Kaufmann started to walk towards the door. "Well, I don't have time to talk. I have business to attend to . . ." he explained.

What possible business could he have to attend to when the town had gone to hell? Maybe he hadn't seen the nightmare world as wasn't fully sure of what was happening. After all, this wasn't the hellish version of the town . . . probably just the normal town at night. That other place I had been seeing . . . the other world . . . was probably something I was only experiencing. But why?

Because Cheryl's my daughter, and she's trapped there.

Yes . . . I was sent there to save Cheryl. Some force was helping me save her. What that force was, I had no idea. I just had to use the time I had in the nightmare world wisely if I was to find Cheryl. The presence of monsters in this world probably meant that the "Otherworld" was leaking through to this world and I had to stop it.

Suddenly, the name Alessa popped into my mind. Michael was the head of the hospital staff, but maybe he didn't know that someone had one of his patients hidden in the room beneath the hospital. Or maybe he did . . . and he was the one hiding her there.

"Michael, do you know someone named Alessa?" I asked.

He didn't even look back. He just answer with a quick and simple "no" and left.

That rat bastard probably knew exactly who she was . . . but why? Why would a hospital need to hide one of their patients? Were they afraid of the police or something? Whatever the reason, Kaufmann probably had some part of it, as director of the hospital.

I looked around at the bar. It was fairly small . . . not even any tables. Just a counter where people probably plastered themselves all night as they played a game of pool. The floor was, however, made of fine tile and the wood floor beneath the counter was well maintained.

I noticed something on the ground in front of me, however. It was some sort of tag . . . a receipt, maybe. I picked it up, looking at the cover. It had the initials M.K. on it, which I was guessing stood for Michael Kaufmann. For some reason, however, those initials put horrible images of death and dismemberment in my mind. Maybe I was just crazy, but images of combat and violence flooded into my head. Maybe I was just uneasy about this Kaufmann fellow . . . or maybe the town and made me afraid of life and anything and anyone in it.

The receit had something written on it . . . M.K, pick up delivery at Indian Runner. 0473.

The Indian Runner? I opened my map, looking for a place in town with that name. I soon noticed a small building on the map labeled "Indian Runner". Maybe some type of storage or postal service? Whatever it was, Kauffman had something waiting for him there.

And I had an irresistible urge to find out what it was.

Maybe I was being nosey. Maybe what he had was none of my business . . . but I wanted to know what it was so badly. Kauffman had something to do with Alessa . . . maybe the delivery would have something to do with her.

I noticed something else on the ground. A key . . . I didn't know what it unlocked, but it probably belonged to Kauffman. There was a small tag with the number three engraved into it. Maybe it was the key to where ever he was staying. I remembered seeing a motel on the map, which was probably where he was attempting to hide whatever he had.

I walked towards the exit, thinking about where I would go. First, I'd head to the Indian Runner and then head to the motels. I knew Cheryl was in need of my help, but there was probably nothing I could do while I was still here in the normal version of the town. I sighed as I opened the door and stepped into the streets.

The Indian Runner was just across the street, fortunately. I ran from the doorway towards the large building. There were a lot of supplies and boxes outside the office . . . so this was some sort of post office. I shuddered to think of what a mess it probably was inside. I ran past the small pilliars and towards the large, brown double doors. I pushed on the doors, trying to open them.

They were locked!

Great . . . locked. And by a huge padlock hanging from the door handles. I looked at it for a moment, realizing I had to turn the dials to four different numbers. But what were they? I sighed, realizing I had just wasted my time and that I'd never find out what Kauffman was up to.

Suddenly, I remembered that some number was written on the receipt. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the large red numbers scribbled on the top.

0473 . . .

I quickly turned the dials until I had entered the numbers written out on the receipt. I then pulled on the lock and it came undone. I laughed as I opened the doors and stepped into the building. I closed the doors behind me, still cautious, however.

I gasped as I saw the post office. The shelves next to me had been knocked over and several objects lay scattered across the floor. Several books were on the floor as well and broken pieces of wood defiled the stone floor. To my left was a counter with a book of some sort and a cash register.

I walked around behind the counter, passing the large FedEx boxes piled up. I ignored the strewn paper, heading for the book that was laid open. This was apparently some sort of journal. The handwriting was fairly sloppy, but readable none the less. After reading the cover, I realized this journal belong to some man named Greg Vederman. Perhaps he was the owner of the Indian Runner. I started to read the text written on the pages.

April 5th
He came by today. I gave him the package the old woman gave to me. The Galespie lady, that is. Where she's getting all of it is beyond me.

Galespie? What did Dahlia Galespie leave off? And who was she delivering it to? Was it Kauffman? Probably, considering the receipt had a note telling Kauffman to pick up some shipment. What was the damn shipment, though? Did it have anything to do with Alessa? I shook my head as I turned the page.

April 6th
He showed up at Norman's place too. I don't want to be involved with them anymore, though. But I'm kind of creeped out. I thought about leaving town, but I was afraid of what might happen if I do. So I'll just keep the shipment in the safe. I left the key in the usual spot in the drawer.

The shipment in the safe? Key in the drawer? I knew the shipment was probably already sent off, but I wanted to see what it was anyways. I turned around, and saw a large, wooden shelf behind me. I ran up to it and opened the top drawer. Inside was a key . . . just like the journal had described. I grabbed a hold of it and closed the drawer back up. I then turned left and faced the safe inside a small area under the counter. I walked up to it and kneeled down I then pulled out the key and put it into the slot. I turned it and heard a click, signifying that it was indeed unlocked. I then pulled the handle and the safe opened up.

I gasped as I saw three packets of what looked like drugs.

The drugs looked like powder! Maybe this was White Claudia! I touched one of the bags with my finger. It was thin . . . thin enough to snort through your nose. This was the drug all right . . . and the local post office was carrying them for . . . Kauffman and Dahlia?!

So this had nothing to do with Alessa. This meant Kauffman and Dahlia were part of the local drug racket Cybil had told me about! They probably hooked all the locals up with the drugs . . . and were probably making good money too . . .

I closed the safe and stood back up. I then noticed some delivery order and a photo hanging on the wall. I looked at the photo first, which showed a well dressed man with his hair neatly combed. He was standing in from of some motel and the photo read "Norman's Grand Opening!" at the bottom. I had already figured Kauffman was probably staying at the motel because there was only one in the whole city. It was the motel I was planning on staying at, in fact. I had Kauffman's key so maybe I could find out more about his involvement in the local drug racket.

Next to the photo was some delivery order.

3 loaves of bread.
3 cartons of mild.
2 dozen eggs.
Deliver to back door daily at 8 A.M. Rear entrance code, 0886. Norman Young.

I figured it'd be best to write down the code to the back door, so I grabbed the pen I saw sitting on the table and wrote it down on my hand. As soon as I had it written, I turned away from the wall and started to walk towards the door. Inspector Harry, at your sevice . . . ready to solve the great White Claudia caper.

I opened the door and found myself back in the dark, cold streets again. The motel was at the end of Weaver Street to my right . . . the Haerbey Inn. I quickly started to run down the road. The road was becoming a little slippery from all the melted snow, however. I wished my shoes had better traction for this kind of weather . . . but I wasn't expecting this kind of weather! It usually didn't snow in late April! I thought the sun would be shining, but instead, I got this fog shrouded, Godforsaken ghost town. My wife used to tell me I was bad luck, I was starting to believe her.

I suddenly noticed a large, green building to my right. It was the Haerbey Inn. I came to an abrupt halt at the the side of the building. There was a large gray door, and next to it was a panel with numbers on it.

0886 . . .

I punched in the numbers and pressed the enter button. I heard a beeping sound, probably signifying that the code I had entered was correct. I walked to the gray door and turned the handle. the door opened and I stepped inside quickly.

The room was fairly small . . . but then again, it was only a small motel. It was no five star resort or anything. The green carpet beneath my feet seemed to match the rest of the furniture in the room. There was no bed, however . . . just a coffee table scattered with various pornographic magazines, an old radio which was probably broken, and a desk.

I did notice on the desk, however, that there was some sort of journal that was opened. I walked up to it and started to read it. It was the journal of Norman Young . . . the owner of the motel.

April 6th

He showed up . . . told me to sit on the package for a while. I really don't like being involved with these guys, but I have to help them out . . . they're the only ones who can sell me White Claudia. I can't live with out it, so I kept the drug and hid it in the garage, like he asked. This time, I can't even let the woman know I have this.

Hid the drugs in the garage? Actually, he hadn't specified that it was White Claudia that they were hiding, but I assumed it might be. And who was "he"? Were they referring to Kauffman? Who knew? I just wanted to find what they were hiding . . . help Cybil out, maybe.

I turned right, noticing the door across the room. Maybe that was where the garage was located. I walked up to it and opened the door. I was then greeted by the musty smell of dirt . . . how a garage usually smells. I walked inside, looking around. There was a motor cycle inside the room made predominantly of stone, and a sink and a work bench . . . but where would he hide the drug? I figured the sink might be one possible place to look, but there was nothing. I turned around and routed through the rusty old tools, but nothing was in there either.

So where would it be? The motor cycle? There wasn't any place for him to hide it there! I walked up to examine it anyways. I doubt he could have hidden it under the flame patterned metal . . . so where can you hide drugs on a motor cycle?

I noticed the gas tank, however . . .the dust was rubbed away around it . . .

Maybe it was hidden in the gas tank! That would seem logical. Not many people would think of looking for it there . . . especially not in an age old motor cycle that probably hadn't been used in years. I put my hand on the cap and tried to twist it off.

No such luck.

I should have noticed the key hole next to it. I needed a key to unlock this thing. Why would anyone need a key hole on a motor cycle gas tank?! Were they afraid someone was going to steal there fuel? I laughed at the thought, but also started to worry. Where the hell would I find the key?

Then I remembered I had Kaufmann's room key . . .

I knew he probably kept the key in his room somewhere . . . he probably hid that key too. I sighed as I turned around and walked back up the stairs. I then opened the door and exited the garage. I needed to get to the bottom of this.

I still continued to wonder, though, what part Dahlia played in this. Dahlia delivered drugs? But why? She seemed to be a nice, if not disturbing woman. She didn't seem like the type who would help in a drug deal . . . but I guessed even the most innocent of people can fall victim to drug abuse. Whatever it was, she was the only one who could help me. I would worry about her drug problem later.

I walked out the door to my left and found myself in the reception area behind the counter. I walked passed the counter, which was filled with sign up sheets and various information about the rooms and to the door by the vending machine. I then opened it and walked outside.

Kaufmann's staying at room number three . . .

Fortunately, there weren't that many rooms here in the first place. There were probably twelve at the most. I didn't have time to count, though. All I had time for was looking for room number three. And I found it soon enough at the other end of the parking lot.

I pulled out the key from my pocket and put it into the slot. I turned it and the door unlocked. I then turned the handle and stepped inside of Kaufmann's room.

The motel rooms were fairly small, but decent enough for the manger to stay in business. It had a nice bathroom made of green tile, which I could see because the door was wide open, and the carpet matching the tiles quite well. There was only one bed, though . . . and some desser used to keep clothes in.

I noticed, however, the carpet had been ripped near the dresser.

Someone must have moved it! Trying to hide something, I guessed. Kaufmann must not be a very bright fellow, because he used shevles and dressers to try and hide his tracks too often and I had caught on almost immediately.

I pushed the dresser out of the way and looked at the floor. A small key lay there. I picked it up quickly. This must be the gas tank key I was looking for . . . I didn't want to question it. I just hoped I was right. I picked it up and headed out of the room.

I ran back across the parking lot to the receptionist's office. I opened the door and ran through the room back to the door at the end of Norman's office. I opened the door, finding myself back in the parking place. I then walked up the motor cycle and searched for the gas tank. I soon found it and used the key on the key hole. The gas tank unlocked and I twisted it off.

Inside was a glass vile inside a plastic bag.

I picked it up and stared at it. This wasn't White Claudia. It looked like the substance inside the smashed glass vile I found at the hospital! Was this some other type of drug? I took out the bottle I had of this and held it up beside the other vile. The liquids were identical! What was this?

I suddenly heard the door behind me slam.

I turned around and stared right into Kaufmann's face.

"Give me that!" he scowled as he ran up to me.

"What is it?" I asked.

He quickly snatched the bottle out of my hands and put it in his pocket. "That's none of your damn business!" he yelled. "Instead of just fucking around here, why don't you look for a way out of here?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"Okay!" I said. "Take it easy!"

"Listen, you're royally fucked if all you do is just go tapping into other people's business!" he yelled. "So stay away from my shit! Got it?!"

Kaufmann then turned around after grabbing his briefcase and started to walk towards the door. He then exited the room, slamming the door behind him. The dust on the roof of the garage fell to the floor because of the force of the slam.

He sure was pissed . . . and in such a hurry, too. He had to have some part in the local drug deal. I wasn't sure what kind of substance was contained in the bottle, but it was probably just another drug of his that he sold to the tourists. Well, at least I had my hands on some evidence against him now . . . this red substance. Whatever it was . . .

I figured there was nothing more to explore. I guessed I had just wasted my time. There was no more time anyway . . . I had to find Cheryl!

I walked up to the garage door and opened, stepping back into the director's lounge. I walked past the porn magazines, although I saw that some of them were lying on the floor. Maybe Kaufmann had decided to have some fun with it before he left on whatever business he had to attend to. The thought was both disgusting and humorous at the same time. I laughed as I exited out the back door and into the dark streets once more.

Still dark . . . still snowing . . . nothing had changed. I still had time to save Cheryl, I guessed. It was too calm for anything to happen to her. I turned right and started to run down the long road ahead of me. Through the darkness and fog, it all seemed like I was swimming through a thick, black void. No monsters in sight, fortunately. All I had to occupy myself with was my thoughts. I didn't have to think with the barrel of my pistol right now. I just had to get to the docks and see if I could find Cheryl . . . though this wasn't the "Otherworld", maybe I'd still find Cheryl there . . . maybe my thoughts of Cheryl being trapped in the nightmare world was nothing but a ramble in my mind.

I suddenly stopped in place as I heard Sirens in my head.

I looked in every direction, realizing that it was no longer snowing, but . . . raining!

The floor beneath me started to turn into metal . . . and then to chain links! The fog seemed to disappear and an even greater darkness then before shrouded me, if it were possible. My flashlight still shone brightly in the darkness, but I still wasn't trusting my vision . . . because this didn't feel like shifting from reality to a nightmare . . .

This felt like reality becoming a nightmare . . .