Into the Abyss

Tom was so startled by its appearance and by being able to understand the voice, he answered, almost unwilling, “Thomas Edward Perkinje.”

The face twisted in, if possible, a more hideous grin of triumph. Tom suddenly decided, if that’s what I’m going back for, I think I’ll stay here. Tom recognized somewhere at the core of his being that the voice and face wanted nothing good for him. He rotated what he thought of as his body and began to flee from the face with all his strength. He ran on mental legs as fast as he could. Farther and farther away, he fled. As he fled, the voices became more and more insistent, demanding that he return to them.

He fled from them harder than he had ever run from the bullies in his old school, the ones that used to harass him because he wouldn’t give them money. Tom was stubborn, his mother always said he was too bull-headed for his own good. Well, Tom was absolutely positive that he wanted nothing to do with that leering face. He ran on and on, refusing to give into the voices that called on him to submit, to return.

He felt what seemed to be cold hands reach from behind to try and grab at the center of his being. The old voice screamed at him, “Thomasedwardperkinje, by thy true name I command thee, submit. Your will is mine. I am thy master. Submit demon, submit!” For reasons beyond his grasp hearing his name and that command he slowed his flight. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help it. He was running as if through molasses, his legs slowing, the cold hands firming their grip upon his being. I can’t run, thought Tom, so I fight. Without warning, and with all his will Tom slammed to a halt, spun his ‘body’ around and threw something resembling a reverse spinning side kick, right into that hideous leering face. At the same time, he released a loud mental Kiya! at the face, he had no lungs to verbally yell, as his Tae Kwon Do instructor had taught him to do when kicking. His foot met resistance as it impacted with the face, but not solid contact. It was like kicking pudding... His foot went into the face as his leg reached full extension, but to Tom’s eyes it appeared as if his foot went through a hologram.

The face reared back in apparent surprise and possibly a bit of pain. Clearly, it had not expected the kick. Using the time to his best advantage, Tom did two rapid punches to the face, kiyaing twice. The face again backed off. The face was no longer grinning in triumph, now if anything it almost looked worse. It had grown solemn, serious and downright nasty. Tom decided that it was time to run again since the Tae Kwon Do only seemed to pause the man. He ran again; this time the molasses was not quite so thick.

“Urbido Dominae, triustrum” shouted the voices together behind Tom. “These are the rites of high binding let none hinder our task.” Smoke was burning somewhere, noxious and heavy. It stunk of sulfur and rubber. His vision of the lights was becoming clouded. “Et servitus nostrus Dominae. Ekfeltos tral kiev. By the sigils of binding, we conjure thee Thomasedwardperkinje. The sigil and thy name bind thee to us. As Varn in the first millennia, we control thee Demon. Thomasedwardperkinje thou canst not escape.” A glowing rune appeared in the smoking lights around Tom. Faces surrounded him.

The old face was behind the rune; to its left was a fat sweaty one. To the right, a middle-aged woman, lines of concentration etched on her brow. Beside Tom and behind him were arrayed the faces of young people. Most only a few years older than himself, some had fear in them, others showed nervous excitement. Tom spun around, seeking an opening in the circle of faces. There was none.

Up, he thought, I’m in a three dimensional space. Tom imagined himself fleeing upwards above the circle. This is, after all, a drug induced psychotic state; I can do what I please, thought Tom. His mental body flew upwards away from the circle. Behind him, he heard a grunt of annoyance.

“Necros filium spiratu. Thomasedwardperkinje thou art ours. Thou art bound!” Suddenly from the glowing sigil webs of yellow light shot out surrounding him, blocking his escape upwards. He was webbed in in all directions.