SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem: Origins
Part 1
Resurrection of the Mad Goddess
by Lotus
Disclaimers: You know, after a couple of chapters, it gets *really* hard to think up amusing disclaimers. Ahem. Don't own Eternal Darkness, don't own the Roivas family, don't own the Ancients, however cool that would be, don't own the Tome, don't own Mini Coopers, etc. etc. etc.
Author's Note: I just realized something...Alex doesn't go to college in Washington D.C., she goes to college in Washington *State*!! slaps self on forehead Silly me! That would explain why she had to *fly* to Rhode Island....I'm an idiot...Well, I'm much more familiar with D.C. than Washington State, so, for the moment, logic will be suspended and Alex will live in D.C. Sorry...^_^
Chapter 5 Missing PageHas it happened yet?
_Patience__It will not be complete for a while_
How long will it take?
_No one can know__not even me_
I cannot wait any longer.
_Why this desperation?__It will happen eventually_
Why can't it happen now?
_Ah__You seek the answer, do you not?_
I do.
_You may not find it, even when it is complete_
But I won't know that until it happens, will I?
_True_
So why not start now?
Roivas Manor was so huge it was almost threatening.
Still, Jen thought, pulling into the driveway, it sort of fit for the old mansion to be intimidating, considering what it was built on top of. Hurriedly banishing the images of the house's history from her mind, Jenny parked the car, got out, and walked to the double doors.
Momentarily, she wondered how she was going to get in. After all, if no one had been here since Alex left, the doors should be locked.
She turned the knob anyway, and the doors slid open without making a noise.
The silence that greeted her within the mansion made her uneasy. There was no noise in the whole of the house, at least not that she could hear. The lack of noise was almost expectant, as though the whole mansion was waiting for some misshapen monster to burst in from nowhere and shatter the peace.
"Hmm..." Jenny mused to herself, desperate to break the silence. "If I were a page of the Tome of Eternal Darkness, where would I hide?"
If I were a page of the Tome, she thought to herself, I'd be sitting in the Book, quietly pretending I didn't exist.
Humming to herself to keep the noiselessness from crushing her, Jenny scanned the house. There didn't seem to be anywhere left for a page to hide. Not knowing where to start, she closed her eyes and pointed in a random direction.
The dining room. Seemed a reasonable place to start.
The old dining room had not seen use for some time. The hand-carved tables were coated by a thin layer of gray dust, and long-spent ashes were all that remained in the fireplace.
Fireplace. For some reason that stuck in her mind. There was something about the fireplace–something important–but she couldn't quite remember what it was.
Flipping through the Tome, her eyes came to rest on Maximilian's chapter. Ah, yes. The dining room fireplace. When Maximilian had explored the house, there had been a secret room behind this fireplace. Surely it was still there–even in this haunted house, she was pretty sure that rooms didn't arbitrarily disappear.
Again she skimmed the Tome, checking to see if Alex or Dr. Roivas had happened upon this secret room. Apparently, this chamber had been forgotten since Maximilian discovered it.
She bent down and checked the fireplace. Apparently there was nothing there but the cold, white stone at the back. There was no obvious way in. Getting on her hands and knees, she ran her fingers along the base of the fireplace, where the floor met the back wall.
Aha. A tiny space–very small, but still present–between the two slabs of stone. Yes, the secret room was definitely still there–and possibly still accessible, if she'd thought to bring a crowbar. Unfortunately, she was quite sure that she did not have a crowbar, nor did she have any way to get one. And the Roivas family was mostly comprised of doctors and scholars. They were unlikely to have a crowbar lying around.
She again checked Maximilian's chapter. When he had been here, there had been four tiles here, as well as a sculpture. The inscription had told him to place the sculpture in front of the tile that had shown the symbol of "The Master's greatest enemy"–the Ancient that could defeat Pious' master.
No tiles, no Pious, no Master. Jenny was in a bit of a situation.
She got up from the fireplace and dusted he ashes off of her jeans. Unless she found a way to Magickally procure sticks of dynamite, there was no way she could get into the secret room. Might as well go search somewhere else.
Leaving the dining room, Jenny aimlessly meandered the halls of the mansion. Were there any other secret nooks and crannies in the walls that Alex hadn't spotted? She flipped through the three chapters again, looking for any secrets the three Roivas' had not discovered. If there were any, the Tome did not mention them. She was on her own.
Alex's nightmares had only been getting worse.
As she tossed and turned in her restless sleep, the pictures that her troubled mind painted on her closed eyelids came violently to life. Mostly they were memories, bits and pieces of memories jumbled together with nightmarish unrealities like a collage.
In her mind she would enter the old mansion and walk through the empty rooms, taunted by the whispering voices that called to her with every step. She would open a door and find Grandpa's body, covered by the bloody shroud. As she turned away from the sight, she would see, in the room across the hall, a sight that she wished she didn't remember.
Her parent's bodies would lay uncovered on the floor, as though they had come all the way from their resting place to join Grandfather's corpse. They would look newly dead, their blood still warm on the floor, lifeless eyes staring at her, pleading her.
She would turn to run away, shutting in the scent of death and decay and, in her parent's case, newly burned flesh. As she ran, she would sense–not even see, just sense–someone, or something, reaching out for her, grabbing at her, hungry to tear her, break her body, devour her, taste her blood.
Panicked, she reached for the doorknob, desperate to flee the house. Just as her hand met the cool metal, something pulled her back, something that mocked her with a cacophony of voices, laughing almost joyously as she cried out in shock and clutched at whatever was nearest to her. Some of the voices laughed, some of them whispered, some of them echoed her screams.
At last they would release her, and she would get back on her feet, only to find herself in a place she did not recognize. The place was pitch black, but slowly, as she wandered through it, a light began to shine at it's center; a chaotic, swirling blue nova, endlessly collapsing in on itself and pulling everything in this empty, dead universe toward it like a black hole.
She saw the epicenter too late to turn around. She began to walk away from it, but the inward winds grew stronger and harder to resist. She ran, but it drew her toward itself, pulling her toward it as the voices had done. No matter how she struggled she was slowly, inexorably being pulled into that glowing, nebulous hell.
The laughter rang, omnipresent, in her ears...
At this she would wake, clutching her sheets like a lifeline, staring at the ceiling, damp with cold sweat. She would turn around, trying to calm herself, and see her double standing at the window, looking out at the city below.
If she was looking at the picture correctly--and she knew she was–there was something underneath the staircase.
Jenny had little reason to think so. After all, there was no door, and the wall to the left of the basement door sounded solid enough. But, leafing through the Tome, she had found a rough schematic of the painting in the hallway, the one that had informed Maximilian of the hidden doorway. Looking closely at it, she had noticed that the stairway wall seemed...missing. There was no other way to put it. It just didn't look like it was there anymore.
She had examined the picture skeptically for a while. The wall couldn't just not be there. It had to be a trick of the light, or something about the way it was painted. But, upon closer examination, it became clear that, according to the painting, the stairway wall was not there.
She reached out to touch the wall. It was cool and smooth and dusty under her hand, and it was most definitely solid. She lightly tapped on it. A few dust motes flew into the air, but nothing else happened. Maybe she was on the wrong track. Maybe this was just another wall.
Still. It couldn't hurt to check.
The Runes of the Reveal Invisible spell formed in midair, and the whole mansion grew dense with colored fog.
At that moment, something happened.
It was hard to tell exactly what had happened. All Jenny could tell was that she was most definitely not in the Roivas Manor anymore. She wasn't sure where she was. All around her was empty blackness, with pure white stars winking far in the distance.
She was floating, floating through space. Anonymous planets flew past her; nameless giants orbiting stars as yet undiscovered by man. The cold darkness of space was suddenly offset by the light streaming from a milky galaxy.
Someone was whispering to her...there were voices, hundreds of voices, all whispering in her ear...whispering to her the laws of space and time and Magick...the solutions to all of the unsolved equations of physics and space and the mysteries that humanity had pondered for centuries...something was, in a voice that she strained to hear, telling her the meaning and the purpose and the workings of everything...
And then it stopped, as suddenly as it began.
Jenny looked around in confusion. She was back in Roivas Manor again, staring at a wall and feeling like an idiot. The vast, dark reaches of the cosmos were gone, at least from her vision, but the image remained firmly in her mind's eye.
For an instant, for the tiniest fraction of an instant, she had known everything...
Shaking off the momentary hallucination, Jenny reached out to touch the wall. To her surprise, her hand slid through it, as though there was nothing there but empty air. Smiling to herself, she took a step through the wall and found herself in the tiniest of rooms. It looked as though it had never been entered, never even been thought of, until now. It was a bare, sparse room: no decoration of any kind, no furnishment, no nothing. There was merely the aged, warped floorboards, the mildew growing in the cracks between the planks, and the gossamer curtains of cobwebs. In the center of the room–if it could be called a room, it was more like an overlarge box–was it's only other occupants; a small purple tile with the Rune of Mantorok engraved on it and a black raven statuette.
The process had been simple enough. All she had to do was place the tile on the mantel and put the statue in front of it. There was no longer one Master, so the statue had to stand before the enemy of them all.
The fireplace had obligatorily opened up, revealing a doorway in the back. The fireplace was lower than it looked; Jenny had to crawl on her stomach army-style to enter it.
On the other side of the fireplace was a small room, though not nearly as tiny as the box-room under the stairs. It was cluttered with miscellaneous boxes, bookshelves–the motto of the Roivas family seemed to be 'When in doubt, add a bookshelf'–and papers, and the odd painting or artifact was hung on the wall. There were two weapon stands nailed to the wall, but they were empty, their occupants removed.
However, on the table was what Jenny had come here for. A single page, crammed with writing, on aged, yellowed paper. Jenny took a seat, opened up the Tome, and began to read.
"A Generation in the Darkness," She read the title, then moved on to the written prologue. "Perhaps we could not help coming across the Tome; after all, we too bore that cursed name Roivas. Perhaps it was fate that led us to the study...but no, that cannot be. Fate is nothing but a device invented by man to give himself a scapegoat for his own troubles...no, the Roivas family merely has a long and illustrious history of being in the wrong place at the wrong time..."
*-*-*
Three loud, clear knocks at the front door brought Edward Roivas sharply out of his literary reverie.
Putting down his book on a nearby coffee table, Edward opened the front door–and a four-year-old cannonball hit him in the stomach.
"Hi Grandpa!" The little girl looked up at him with a big grin.
He laughed. His granddaughter's enthusiasm never failed to be amusing. "Hello, Alex." He picked her up around the waist and held her at eye level. "You just keep getting taller every time I see you, do you know that?"
She nodded. "Did'ja miss me?"
"Of course. Did you miss me?"
"Uh huh."
Okay, Alex." His son's voice, sounding apologetic. "Come on, get off before you break Grandpa's back." The young man took his child in his arms.
Jonathan Roivas had inherited most of his looks from his mother, from his mess of dark curls to his height–he was a bit short for his age–to his features; he had what in some circles might be called a baby face. In fact, Edward thought, just about the only thing Jonathan got from him was farsightedness.
"Hi, Dad. Sorry about that."
"I don't mind at all. Where's Anna?"
"She's getting the luggage out of the car."
"You made your wife get the luggage all by yourself?" Edward gave his son a faux-critical look.
"She volunteered for it." Jonathan apologized. "Alex, go up to your room and wait for Mommy, okay?"
Alex nodded, then bounded up the stairs and opened the door at the top, disappearing into the second floor.
"So," Jonathan asked, trying to make conversation. "What have you been doing lately?"
"Jonathan, what have I been doing every day for the past three years?"
"Sitting at home all day, reading and occasionally going outside?"
"Exactly."
His son rolled his eyes. "Dad, it's okay to occasionally have contact with people other than us. Ever since Mom died, you've just shut yourself up in this old house...don't you ever get lonely?"
"Occasionally." Edward's expression switched to number 37–totally neutral. Edward had many expressions, and his son had learned and labeled them all, from no.1, 'Nice to see you,' to no.49, 'You are in very, very deep trouble, young man,' to no. 287, 'Yes, Jonathan, I can read your mind'.
At that moment, Anna, laden with three overstuffed black duffel bags on the verge of bursting their seams, entered the house.
"Phew!" She exclaimed, dropping the duffel bags, which hit the ground with a sound like a sonic boom. "Really, it's amazing how much stuff one four-year-old needs."
As far as physical appearances were concerned, Anna Roivas couldn't be more different from her spouse. Stick-straight blonde hair cut in a chin-length bob made her look like a very out-of-place 20's flapper. She was a few inches taller than her husband and she stood ramrod straight. She was the sort of woman who would have looked perfectly natural in a business suit.
"Hello, Anna. How's Daughter-in-Law?"
"Daughter-in-Law is fine. How is Father-in-Law?"
"Father-in-Law is fine as well." He laughed again. He was glad his son had married Anna; she was a pleasant young lady, and one of the few people who reliably made him laugh. That, and she reminded him of his wife...
Jonathan rolled his eyes again, this time in good humor, and grabbed one of the duffels. "I don't understand you two." He sighed, walking up the stairs.
"You just have no sense of humor, Jonathan." Anna shot back.
"I ask you only one thing, Jonathan. Did anyone even think to fix this clock?"
"Hmm?" Jonathan looked up from his book.
"This clock." His wife looked very irritated. "It hasn't moved from one o' clock since we got here. Has anyone even considered getting it fixed?"
Her husband sat back in the armchair, adjusted his reading glasses, and turned the page of his book. He would never know why, but little things like this–stopped clocks, single earrings, out-of-order encyclopedias–bothered Anna to no end. She was just like Mom in that respect. "No, Anna, noone's fixed the clock. Maybe Dad likes it that way."
Why would he want a stopped clock? I mean, what's the point of even owning a clock if it's not going to tell time?" She looked around the back of the clock. "Let me see if I can fix it..."
Jonathan sighed, getting up from his chair and putting the book back on the shelf. "If it upsets you so much, we can call someone to get it fixed. Honestly, you're so obsessive-compulsive about these things. I should let Dad analyze you, he'd have a field day..."
She ignored him. "Let's see, what time is it now?" She checked her watch. "2:33? Okay..." She spun the hands of the clock until they represented the current time. "Now, let's have a look..." Blindly feeling around the gears of the clock, she adjusted the first thing she touched.
The hour hand moved forward. The clock now read 3:33.
"Well, no *wonder* it doesn't work." Anna concluded. "It's got pieces missing."
"Anna..."
"Yes, Jonathan, I know I'm being picky. I'm sorry, I can't help it. You know things like this bother me."
"Anna, that's not what I meant..."
"I wonder if I could buy the missing pieces somewhere..."
"Anna, look up from the damn clock!" Her husband's voice had risen to a shout. Anna obeyed, and froze upon seeing what Jonathan had discovered.
The bookcase that he was standing in front of had opened up, revealing a narrow passageway.
"What the hell?"
"My thoughts exactly." Her husband backed away from the passage.
"Does your dad know about this?"
"I don't know. He never said anything about it before."
Anna took a peek inside. A narrow hallway opened up into a mid-sized room behind the bookshelves. Curious, she stepped into the hallway, squinting through the darkness to the lit room at the end.
"There's not much in here." She said. "Jonathan, you can come in now."
Her husband looked around the little room, and his eyes came to rest on the sword mounted on the wall. "Wow..." He took it carefully off it's stand and examined it. "Anna, this has to be at least two hundred years old, and look at the condition it's in! Do you have any idea how much this is worth?"
Anna, however, had other things on her mind. She had walked over to the table, noticing the large, heavy book on top of it. Hesitantly, she picked it up, then dropped it in surprise.
The book had blinked.
"Jonathan?" She motioned for her husband to come closer. "C'mere. Take a look at this."
"What is it?" He put the sword back on it's stand.
"This book. There's something weird about it." She gingerly poked the cover with one finger. "It doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean, 'It doesn't feel right'?" He ran his hand over the cover. "Yeah, you're right. That's some weird leather."
"I don't think it's leather."
"What else could it be?" He inspected the book. "Have you read it yet?"
"Not yet." She opened it and read he words aloud. "'The Procession of Flesh and Bone.' That's kind of an odd title. 'Herein is contained a history, a history that spans all the centuries of civilizations, a history that is even now being written and becoming the present. But this is not the history of one individual, nor even of a family of individuals. It is a history of many, many Chosen, from across the seemingly impenetrable reaches of space and time, and of those who lie Beyond, whom the eyes of mortals were never meant to see. Like it or not, believe it or not as you will. Your perceptions will not change reality, but merely color it.'" Anna pored over the book. "Well, this is the strangest thing I've ever seen."
"No kidding." He leaned in closer to view the text. "Here's no title, no author, no nothing. I wonder where it came from...keep reading."
"Chapter 1: The Chosen One. 'To think that once I could not see beyond the Veil of our reality...to see those who dwell beyond. My life has purpose, for I have learned the frailty of flesh and bone...I was once a fool...' 'In the days of the dawn of the Roman Empire, there lived a centurion by the name of Pious Augustus...'"
"You know, somehow Dad never struck me as the slaying-the-undead type. And he certainly never told me there was a Vampire in this house."
"It's not the type of thing you go around telling people. Besides, would you have believed him?" Flipping through the remainder of the Tome, Anna found nothing but blank pages waiting for words. "I guess that's the last chapter."
"Doesn't it seem like it's waiting?" Jonathan asked, turning empty page after empty page. "Like it's hungry to have these pages filled?"
"Yeah, it does." She shifted uncomfortably. Shaking off the feeling, she flipped to the last page and stopped. "What is that?"
On the last page was what looked like animated black ink., which twisted frantically about on the brink of forming words, then scattered and dispersed.
"I don't know. Maybe it's a chapter being written."
"On the last page?"
"Possibly."
"But it's not forming words. Look, as soon as it gets close to saying anything, it falls apart. It's like the enchantment's not strong enough." Anna squinted at the page. "What do you think it's trying to say?"
"I can't tell." Jonathan adjusted his glasses. "It's too fuzzy." He reached out to touch the page, but quickly withdrew his hand as soon as his skin came in contact with the parchment. "Did you say it looked like the enchantment was week?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Do you think the words would stay in place if we Enchanted it?"
"No, that..." Anna paused. "Actually, Jonathan, that's a pretty good idea." She pointed at the page. "Magormor Antorbok Mantorok"
The Runes appeared, glowed, then disappeared. For a brief instant in time, the pages became filled with words, but before either of the two could read them, the ink returned to his serpentine state.
"Mommy? Daddy?" Little Alex opened the second floor door just a crack. "Mommy, Daddy, where are you?" She walked down the stairs, her sandals flip-flopping on the carpet. "Grandpa, are you here?"
"What is it, Alex?" Edward appeared out of the dining room.
"Grandpa, can you come up here? There's a monster under my bed again."
Silently, Edward rolled his eyes. For two straight years, Alex had been plagued by a steady stream of 'monsters' wherever she went. Normally he'd dismiss it as the night terrors of an ordinary four-year-old, but according to his son, Alex encountered a 'monster' almost every other day. "Okay, Alex, hold on just a second."
"Can you hurry up, please? I think it's gonna jump out at me."
Edward ascended the stairs and took his granddaughter by the hand. "Okay, Alex. Don't worry, I'll chase the monster away."
"Thanks, Grandpa." She led him to her bedroom and pointed under her bed. "It's hiding under there, see?"
He bent down and ran a hand under the bed. "I don't think there's any monsters here."
"He's still there, Grandpa."
He sighed. "Where? I don't see it."
"He's still there. Look."
Edward looked again, just to oblige his granddaughter, but this time he did see something there.
He couldn't discern exactly what it was, but it's presence was undeniable. He reached under the bed again, and his hand brushed against something cold and solid. It moved away from him, making scratching noises on the wooden floor. Edward squinted and adjusted his glasses to see it, but by the time he had focused on it, it was gone.
"He's gone now." Alex beamed. "He knew you could see him, so he ran away."
Edward got up and dusted off his slacks, and his granddaughter gave him a hug. "Thanks, Grandpa."
"Anytime, Alex." There really had been something under her bed, he thought In most houses, he would have blamed a mouse, maybe, or a stray pet. But this was Roivas Manor. Heaven only knew what might be wandering in here...
"I don't get it! Nothing's working!" Anna sunk back in her chair. "No matter what Spell we cast, nothing happens."
Well, *something* happens." Jonathan corrected her. "Just nothing permanent."
"Same thing." Anna brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Stupid book. What Spells have worked so far?"
"Bind, Summon, Enchant, and Reveal, I think. Do you want to try something else?"
"No, no. If those didn't work, why should anything else?"
Jonathan also sat back in his chair, mouthing the Runes aloud, thinking hard. Occasionally he would flip through the Tome, skim over a chapter, then go back to the last page.
"What are you doing?"
"I just thought of something. If one Spell doesn't work, maybe all of them at once will."
"All of them at once? How do you intend to do that?"
Jonathan took off his glasses and cleaning cloth and began to wipe off the lenses. "What I was thinking was, if we used the Runes of all the Spells that worked, we could make a single Spell that would work."
"Jonathan, I love you and everything, but that's nuts. You know it won't work with more than four different Runes. We've tried that."
Her husband only shrugged. "It can't hurt to try." He turned back to the last page. "Tier Aretak Bankorok–"
Already the Magick had begun to react, twisting more violently. Anna warily watched the page, edging toward the back of the room.
"Redgormor Narokath Magormor--" Even Jonathan began to look uncomfortable as the ink danced all over the page.
"Pargon."
The Runes, lit in pure white, appeared and formed a sphere in space, spiraling around the book like stars. The ink on the page formed half-intelligible words, then spread across it as though it had been spilled, then finally abandoned the page and orbited it with the Runes. At that point husband and wife turned away, afraid of what they would see.
When the two opened their eyes again, the Runes and the ink was gone. Instead, standing before them, staring them in the eye, was a ghostly Roman woman, holding the Tome in one hand.
Anna slumped down into an sofa. The last two weeks had dragged on for an eternity. For almost every waking minute of those two weeks–and probably some of the sleeping ones too–they had been trying to think of ways to get Minerva's message to paper. Exactly zero of these ideas had worked. Even the simplest thing, like actually taking a pen and writing it on the page, didn't work. The ink had melted and run off like water in a gutter. She massaged her aching head in her hands. She was clean out of ideas. Not only that, but ever since they had found the Tome she'd been having the creeping feeling of someone watching her.
"You look tired." Her husband nonchalantly commented.
"I *am* tired. I don't know what to do."
"Neither do I." He sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "Maybe we're working too hard at this." He pondered. "Maybe we're going at it too hard. I think if we...well, took a day off, in a manner of speaking, that'd give us time to recharge, and think of new ideas."
His wife looked up at him. "Are you saying that because you think it will work or because you're as exhausted as I am?"
"Both. That, and Dad's starting to wonder what we're up to."
"Yeah, I guess so. We've been kind of antisocial." She laughed and got up, but suddenly her eyes grew wide.
"Anna? What is it?" He turned around to see what she saw and froze. She had been right all this time–something had been watching her, and that something was revealing itself now.
Standing before them, perfectly still, was a Guardian of Chattur'gha
Anna and Jonathan didn't dare move. Instead, Anna whispered, "Is that what I think it is?"
"It is."
"It's not moving."
As if in response to that, the Guardian skittered forward, it's spindly legs scratching on the floor. The pair backed away from it, and Jonathan reached for a weapon. Runes appeared on the ground as the beast began to cast a Spell.
"Antorbok Pargon Redgormor Pargon--" It's voice, low and gravelly, broke the silence.
"Anna? Jonathan? Are you in here?" Edward Roivas opened the door, and the Guardian instantly disappeared.
Two sighs of relief, then, his daughter-in-law's voice, "Yeah, we're in here. What is it?"
Edward shook his head. "Just wondering where you two disappeared to. Your daughter's been looking for you. She says she's been seeing monsters under the bed, as usual, but in the past two weeks..." He shrugged. "Let's just say her 'sightings' have been every other hour, not every other day."
"I thought it would let up if she came here..." The two resumed their seats on the couch.
"Apparently it hasn't." He too took a seat. "Is something bothering you? You look worried."
"Um..." He briefly contemplated telling his father the truth, but decided against it. "No, nothing's bothering us."
"Are you sure? Lately both you and Alex have been on edge..."
Jonathan sat back in the chair, taking a fake casual air that he was sure his father could see through. "Look, Dad, just because you're desperate to roll out the therapy couch doesn't necessarily mean that there's anything wrong."
"I never even owned a therapy couch..."
Anna forced a laugh. "Well, the point is, there's nothing wrong. I don't know why Alex has been so nervous."
"Must be all those 'monsters' under the bed. I'd be stressed if invisible devils were chasing me everywhere." Edward joked. "Well, sorry to be intrusive." He opened the door and left the room.
Anna melted into a puddle on the couch. "Great. This is just great. I can't believe it."
"Can't believe what?"
"Think about it. Alex has been seeing more monsters for the past two weeks, and it's been two weeks since we found the Tome. A Guardian just showed up here. Put two and two together. Alex has been seeing the Guardians. Which means," she continued, "that they know we have the Tome. Not only that, but there's a lot of them here, and it'll only be a matter of time before they stop hiding."
"Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions, Anna? For all we know, Alex might not be seeing anything. It might be just her imagination."
His wife turned to face him. "Jonathan Roivas, look me in the eyes and tell me that you honestly believe that."
He hesitated, then looked down. "Okay. You win. I don't believe that." He sighed. "Well, even so, she might only be seeing one. And I think we can handle one."
"Mm hmm. Right." Anna's reply had 'I think you're wrong' written all over it.
"Well, even if there's more than one of them, what are we supposed to do about it? We don't know where they're coming from."
"We could leave. Now." She sat up straight. "If the Guardians are after us, they'll follow us if we leave."
"What good will that do us, then?"
"It *won't* do us any good. But it will keep them away from Alex."
"If she stays here, she'll have to stay with my dad. For all we know, they might be after him too."
She shook her head. "I don't think so. She'll be safer with your father than she'll be with us."
"What makes you think so?"
"The last time the Guardians tried to kill your father, he wiped them out. I don't think they'll be too eager to try anything with him around. I say we go home, and we do it soon."
"Shouldn't we tell Dad about all this before we go? I mean, if we just take off all of a sudden, he'll get worried."
Again Anna shook her head. "If he knew what was happening, he would want to go with us. We wouldn't be able to convince him to let us go alone. If he goes with us, he'd have to take Alex, and I don't want her involved in this. Besides, if he comes with us, then..." she turned away "...then if we're all killed, Alex won't have anybody."
"Do you really think that's what will happen?"
"This is the Ancients we're dealing with, Jonathan. Almost everyone who's faced them and their Guardians has ended up dead or worse. You have to consider that possibility."
Jonathan rested his head in his hands. "Fine." He conceded, his voice sounding broken. "We'll leave in the morning. Let me go pack up my things."
He left the room, and Anna sat alone on the couch.
"Thanks for taking care of Alex while we're gone, Dad." Jonathan loaded his duffel bag in the back of the car.
"Remind me again why you're mysteriously taking off?" Edward asked, handing him the second duffel–which was loaded to the breaking point with heavy weaponry, but Edward didn't need to know that.
"The guy came in to work on the roof earlier than we thought he would, and we can't ask him to wait till we get back." He smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry to dump all of this on you."
"No problem." He took Alex's hand. "Call me when you get back, alright?"
"Sure." Jonathan, hesitated, then gave his dad a hug. "I love you, dad..." He felt like crying, Anna's word's coming back to him. What if he really was going to die, and once he left he would never see his father again?
His father sounded confused. "I love you too, Jonathan. Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
His son quickly got a hold of himself. "Yes. Yes, Dad, I'm fine." He kissed his daughter goodbye. "Bye Dad. Bye Alex." He got in the car and shut the door.
"Did you bring it?" He asked his wife once she had got out of the driveway.
"Yeah, it's in my duffel." He was silent for a few minutes. Then, "You did say your goodbyes, didn't you?"
She nodded. "I did before you came downstairs. What do you intend to do with the Tome?"
"I was going to...well, I don't know. I had an idea, but now that I think about it, it seems kind of stupid."
"What was it?"
"I thought that maybe I'd write to Dad and tell him what's going on. I'd put the letter in the Tome and then mail it back to him."
"That sounds okay. Start writing, I don't want to waste any time once we get home."
Jonathan obediently took out a pen and paper. The rest of their trip was made in silence.
"So what do we do now?" Jonathan sat down beside his wife. "Just wait for the Guardians to show up?"
"Essentially, yes." Anna's expression had been utterly blank since they had left Roivas Manor.
He turned to her, wishing she would look him in the eye. "But what if they don't? What if we're wrong, and the Guardians aren't after us? What if we ran away for nothing? Anna, look at me." He demanded. Anna did not respond. "Why won't you look at me?"
She only turned away. "We weren't running away, Jonathan. We're no safer here than we were there. I don't consider that running away."
"But what if we're wrong? Maybe the Guardian's aren't after us at all. Maybe they were going after my father, which means we left Alex in danger. Have you ever considered the possibility that we're wrong?" Anna didn't move. "Anna, please, look at me."
She turned to him, and in her eyes there was nothing but anger. "Yes, I've considered it!" Her voice had become a shout. "Do you think I haven't? For two weeks I felt someone following us. For two weeks I thought they were after us. For two damn weeks I lay awake in bed every damn night, wondering what I'd do when they came! Do you think I just now thought about this?" Her anger spent, she looked away again. "Do you think I'd do this if I didn't think it was the best thing to do?"
"No." He admitted. "I don't think that. I don't think that at all. I just..." His voice died away.
"You're afraid to die." His wife finished.
"Maybe I am. Wouldn't you be?" He gave her a sideways glance. "Are you? Is that why you won't look at me?"
Still she wouldn't turn his way. "Maybe. Maybe I'm a little afraid too." A pause, then, "I'm sorry, Jonathan. It's my fault we got involved in this. I'm the one who was messing with the clock." She finally turned to him, and her eyes were beginning to mist. "I feel like such an idiot. Just because I had to have my way with a stupid clock, I got us into something that might get us both killed." She leaned against her husband's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jonathan..."
He put an arm around her shoulder. "Don't feel that way. It's not anybody's fault, especially not yours. I don't know, maybe we were just meant to come across that book."
"Meant to?" She was getting close to crying. "I know you don't believe that. I know you don't believe in Fate, and I don't either. No, we weren't 'meant' to come across it. We found it because I screwed up and got us both mixed up in something we shouldn't be mixed up in. It's all because I just screwed up."
"Anna..."
Before any more could be said, they heard the sound of a wall creaking under duress.
Jonathan gripped his wife's hand. The Guardians had come for them.
A plain rectangular package was waiting on Edward's doorstep when he went to get the paper that morning.
Curious, he forgot about the paper and took it inside, where he peeled away the brown paper covering it. What remained was an ordinary cardboard box longer than it was tall and sealed several times with packing tape.
Whatever was in it must have been very important, Edward thought to himself, because he was unable to get it open short of stabbing the package with a kitchen knife. Once it was finally opened, however, he saw why someone would want to keep it so secret.
The cardboard box contained a few rolls of bubble wrap and the Tome of Eternal Darkness.
How it had ended up in the mail, he wasn't sure. He made a mental note to keep a more careful eye on it; he hadn't even noticed that it was gone. Then again, he had been making an effort to forget about it since Jonathan, Anna, and Alex arrived. Reaching for his glasses, he began to check over the Tome, just to ensure that it was still in one piece. A single sheet of white paper fell out from behind the cover.
The sheet of paper turned out to be a letter, in his son's handwriting. How had it ended up in the Tome? Confused and growing worried, he read the letter to himself.
Dad, there's so much to tell you, so much that I don't really know where to begin. I guess it really started two weeks ago, when we found that book behind a bookcase in the library.
He almost dropped the letter. All this time, Jonathan had known about the Tome? That was impossible. He'd hidden it–he'd made sure that no one would find it if he didn't want them to.
I know it's hard to believe, but both me and Anna have read the Tome. We know about the Ancients and humanity's fight against them. But we've made a discovery that the Ancients didn't want us to make, and now I fear that their Guardians are hunting us down. That's why we had to leave in such a hurry. If we had stayed, both you and Alex would have been in danger–particularly Alex.
The Guardians had come flooding in from all sides, like freakish ants. It was all the two of them could do to hold their positions within the protective boundaries of a Field. For every Guardian that fell, it seemed that ten sprung up in it's place.
"How many more of them do you think there are?" Jonathan shouted over the chaos of the melee.
"I can't tell. There's got to be over two hundred so far." She shouted back, reloading her rifle. " Pargon Antorbok Pargon Redgormor Pargon Pargon Mantorok" Another Guardian fell to the Magickal attack.
"Do you think we could Shield ourselves and run?" Another Guardian skittered up to the Field, but was repelled by the Magickal boundaries. Jonathan ran his saber through it's center, and it shrieked and collapsed
"Not enough time." She fired into the roiling mass of Guardians, slowly leveling them one by one.
"How much ammo have you got left?" An Ulyaoth Guardian fell to the Enchanted saber.
"Enough."
Surprised and dreading what he would read next, Edward continued to read the letter.
The Guardians know where we are. By the time you finish this letter, we'll most likely be dead. I'm sorry that we never told you about our discovery, but we didn't want you and Alex getting any more involved in this than you had to be.
On the last page of the Tome, if we were at all successful, there should be a message that wasn't there before. If the message isn't there, than ignore the page. Ignore it entirely. Don't touch it, don't do anything with it. If there's no message, than that page doesn't exist.
The Field had broken, swamped by the swarm of Guardians. The two Roivas', shielded by Magick, had been forced to take refuge on the upper levels of their home.
Jonathan swung his saber in wild semicircles, striking anything within his radius. This time three were caught in his swing. Three different Guardians.
Something registered as wrong in his mind, even in the chaos around him. Three Guardians, each serving a different Ancient. If the two of them hadn't been there, those same Guardians would have been tearing one another apart. So why weren't they doing that now?
"Anna?" He shouted. "Anna, why aren't the Guardians attacking each other?"
But his wife could not hear him. She was too busy pumping bullets into the nearest Guardians.
An Ulyaoth Guardian toppled with three bullets in it's body, and a Xel'lotath Guardian crawled in to take it's place. Again, the image seemed wrong. The Guardians should have been fighting one another, not them. If they were banded together against them, it could only have been on the orders of the Ancients themselves...
If we don't come back, please take care of Alex for us. I don't want her growing up alone. I'm sorry to force all this onto you, but we have no choice. Besides, she'll be safer with you than she'd ever be with us.
Don't tell Alex what really happened to us. If she finds out about the Tome, than all this will have been a waste. Tell her whatever you want, but don't tell her the truth. Not yet.
If the Ancients could set aside their hatred for one another and send all their Guardians to fight together against them, then all three of them must have been threatened by their actions. If the Ancients considered them a common enemy, then whatever they had done must have been far more momentous than he had ever imagined...
However, before he could pursue this train of thought any further, the Guardians all frantically skittered away at once, crawling over and under one another in their hurry to escape.
"Why are they running away?" Anna rested her rifle for an instant "Is it over?"
But by the time she had finished her sentence, it became clear why the Guardians had abandoned them.
The swarms of Guardians had been replaced by three nightmarish beasts, each advancing toward them at once.
"The Greater Guardians..." Anna whispered, dropping her weapon.
The two had little time to be surprised, as the Runes of Dispel Magick formed in midair.
We're almost home as I write these words, so I have to be brief. We love you both and we'll miss you if we don't come back.
-Jonathan and Anna
P.S. You should probably take the hands off that clock.
The rifle, it's ammunition long since spent, lay abandoned on the floor, it's wielder now at the mercy of the Greater Guardians.
The Shields were gone, Dispelled by the Greater Guardian's Magick. Now the Greater Guardian's prey were vulnerable. Weak. Unprotected.
Anna sank to her knees, her body wracked by Magickal lightning. However, before the Guardian could make another move, she returned it's attack, sending the beast reeling.
Not ten feet away, Jonathan plunged his saber into the Ulyaoth Guardian's underbelly before it could devour him. The tendrils wrapped around his waist relaxed, and he fell to the ground as the Guardian staggered backwards. As the Ulyaoth Guardian turned his attentions to Anna, the Greater Guardian of Xel'lotath advanced on him. Three Runes appeared in a triangle at his feet.
He only barely managed to roll out of the way before he beam enveloped him, but he was not quick enough to avoid the Magickal attack the greeted him. Caught off guard, he lay on the ground for an instant, paralyzed with pain.
It was during that instant that the Greater Guardian of Chattur'gha blind-sided him.
The creature's claws moved faster than their ponderous appearance suggested. Jonathan dodged just in time to avoid having his head severed, but the Guardian, angered that he had missed his mark, swung a single claw in his direction. There was no time to evade it.
The young man cried out in pain, clutching at the stump where his hand had been. The saber, with his severed hand still gripping it's hilt, had landed a few meters away. Turning around, Jonathan held up his remaining hand and prepared to cast a Field spell
The claw of the Greater Guardian impaled him through the chest before he could speak the Runes.
Anna barely suppressed a cry, fighting the instinct to run to his side as she fled to another room. Tossing Jonathan's dead body aside like a broken toy, the Chattur'gha Guardian joined the other Guardians in pursuit of her.
" Pargon Antorbok Pargon Redgormor Pargon Pargon Mantorok" She shouted, retreating to the upper floor. Brushing away the teary mist in her eyes and the trickle of blood running down her cheek, she searched for another weapon.
No sooner had she turned to look than she felt something wrap around her body. Frantic, she clung to the doorframe, but the hand of the Xel'lotath Guardian dragged her into the open, where the three Greater Guardians waited.
An icy cold tendril of the Ulyaoth Guardian curled around her neck. Anna closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next.
The Xel'lotath Guardian released her grip on her, leaving her dangling like a hung convict from the Ulyaoth Guardian's tentacle. A quick jerk was all it took to ensure that her neck was broken.
Disgusted with what was entangled in its tendrils, the Guardian dropped the woman's body unceremoniously on the floor. The three stood for a moment, surveying the wreckage of their quarry's home.
"Where are the others?" The voice of the Xel'lotath Guardian mirrored that of it's mistress. "Where is the one who decimated the Enh'gah colony? And where is the last Keeper of the Light? Why are they not here?"
"They are in some other place." The Ulyaoth Guardian replied. "Why do you seek them? The destroyer of Enh'gah's Guardians is the Liche's concern, not ours."
"Not him. The girl. I want the girl. He may do as he pleases with the destroyer. I want the last Keeper."
"Then let your mistress seek her." The voice of the Chattur'gha Greater Guardian, deep and booming, cut her off, and it pointed a claw at her. "They are dead. The alliance is over."
The Xel'lotath Guardian did not reply, merely disappearing in a spark of light. The other two followed suit.
Edward sank into a chair, hardly believing what he was reading. All this time they had known–all this time they had been hiding from the Guardians, and he had never known it. No wonder they had been so on edge. It had been almost a day since they left. Who knew what they were doing? Who knew if they were even still alive?
At that moment, the telephone rang.
He finally picked it up after a few moment's hesitation, not sure that he wanted to know who was calling.
"Is this Edward Roivas?"
Dread filled him. "It is."
"Sir...I don't know how to put this, but I'm afraid something terrible has happened. I need you to come down as son as you can."
His grip on the phone tightened. "I'll be there soon." He hung up without waiting for a confirmation.
"You are Edward Roivas, yes?" The police officer shook his hand.
"Yes, I am."
"And this..." He indicated Alex. "This is your...granddaughter?"
"Yes, my granddaughter, Alexandra."
The police officer nodded. "I'm afraid she'll have to stay behind, sir...this isn't really something for a child to see." He stepped over the jarringly yellow police line tape. "I'm sorry that I have to be the one to show you this, sir." The officer sighed, then walked into what remained of the foyer.
Edward looked around the wreckage of the room. The Guardian's presence was obvious: the burn damage, the disarray, the wholesale destruction. Then he saw the rooms two occupants.
Jonathan lay spread-eagled on the carpet, his blank, dead eyes staring at the ceiling. His right hand was cut off at the wrist, and his chest was split by a gaping hole. Cuts and gashes decorated his body; black burns covered every visible inch of his skin.
Anna was draped face-down over a railing, her broken neck hanging at a grotesque angle to her shoulder. Her arms and legs were cut and burned, and her hair, streaked with blood, fell over her face.
Edward turned away. Even for the Guardians, this was horrific. No one should be subjected to this.
Just a few feet away he could hear Alex crying. By the time he left the bodies of his son and daughter-in-law, the little girl was red-faced and huddled in a corner, inconsolable and unapproachable. She looked up at her grandfather.
"Are Mommy and Daddy dead?" was all she could manage.
Edward didn't reply, taking his granddaughter in his arms and letting her cry on his shoulder.
It will only be a matter of time, he thought to himself, before they come back for us.
*-*-*
Jenny closed the book, horrified. She was glad that Alex had never found this chapter. Now more than ever, she felt nothing but sympathy for her friend. First losing her parents to the Ancients, then her grandfather...
She was beginning to hate this old mansion, more than anything else. It had brought anyone who ever lived in it nothing but pain, simply because they had chosen to live here.
With a mix of emotions, Jen picked up the Tome and prepared to exit the hidden chamber. However, just as she bent down, the fireplace slammed shut.
Surprised, the girl examined the marble slab. It was firmly closed, and nothing she did would move it. There were no other windows or doors in the room–no other ways out. And the key to opening the fireplace lay in the dining room, on the other side of the passageway.
It hit her like a falling brick. She was trapped. Trapped in a secret room in this haunted house.
End Chapter 5