Chasing the Moon

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Diana and her monsters pulled up to the estate. There was something off about it. It wasn’t only that it was a huge plot of land, bigger than most neighborhoods. The entire place shimmered like a heat mirage. Like her apartment, this place had become disconnected from the rest of reality. It was an island tethered to her world, a waypoint before greater mysteries beyond.

Vom’s fur bristled as he turned a sicklier shade of green. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh, God,” said Diana. “Don’t do it in the car.”

Vom stuck his head out the passenger-side window and vomited a gazelle, twenty-two pounds of gravel, and a bar stool. The bewildered gazelle stumbled to its hooves and dashed away.

Spawns jumped off Smorgaz’s back like popcorn. They even made popping noises when they did so.

Zap blasted a hole in her roof before shutting his all-seeing eye.

“Sorry.”

Pogo buried his head under his paws and tucked his tail between his legs.

“What the heck is wrong with you guys?” she asked.

“It’s this place,” said Zap. “It’s throwing everything out of whack. I don’t think we can go in there with you.” Cosmic lightning flashed under his eyelid.

“Are you sure?”

Vom regurgitated half a shark and some slightly chewed office furniture. Smorgaz’s spawn were rapidly filling up the backseat.

“Get out then,” she said. “Especially you, Vom. Before you throw up acid or something.”

The creatures exited the vehicle.

“Maybe you should reconsider this,” said Vom, who then vomited up a misshapen limb that flailed at the air with its claws before he managed to gulp it back down.

“Agreed,” said Smorgaz. “I don’t like the idea of you walking into Fenris’s lair without any backup.”

Diana said, “It’s not a lair. It’s a house. And I don’t need backup. This isn’t a commando mission.”

“Still seems a touch reckless,” said Vom.

“Safety in numbers.

Pogo rolled over on his back and whimpered.

“I don’t like it either,” she said, “but maybe it’s better this way. How would it look if I show up with you guys behind me like some private army of the damned? It’d be too confrontational.”

“But aren’t you being confrontational?” asked Vom.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing,” she admitted, “but from what I’ve glimpsed Fenris is unstoppable. Even you couldn’t really do anything against him other than maybe annoy him.”

Zap bobbed. “It’s true.”

“Well, if there’s nothing to be done about this, then why bother going at all?” asked Vom.

She’d asked herself the same question. Several times. The only answer she could come up with was that she had to do something. If her only two choices were hiding from the inevitable or facing it head-on, she had decided the latter was preferable, if only because it gave her the illusion of controlling her own destiny.

“I know I’m your lifeline,” she said, “but you don’t have to worry. Everything will be fine, and you won’t get stuck in the closet again.” It surprised her how certain she sounded when she couldn’t be sure of anything.

“Closet? Is that what you think this is about to me?” Vom shook his head. “Do you think I really give a damn if I’m locked away for a few hundred years waiting for the next witless sap to inherit me? I’m ageless. I could wait a million years in that closet. It’d be a little boring, but I’ve been bored before.

“No, we like you, Diana. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Smorgaz and Zap echoed the sentiment. Pogo wagged his spiky, whiplike tail.

She smiled despite herself.

“I like you too. Hell, you guys just might be the best friends I’ve ever had. But this is my reality, my fight.”

They started a new round of protests.

“No arguments,” she said. “I’m in charge here, right? That means we do things my way. If it makes you feel any better, I give Zap permission to keep watch over me via that all-seeing eye of his.”

“I can’t see in there,” said Zap. “There’s interference in the space-time continuum, a fifth-dimensional collapse along the polyfractal axis that’s condensing all possible futures into a single unobservable waveform.”

“What does that mean? You can’t see anything?” asked Diana.

“Oh, I can see.” Zap rose in the air, waved his tentacles. “I can see into realmsyond imagination. I just can’t see much into this one.”

“Does that mean it’s all done? That the future is over?”

“All it really means is that someone has shoved Schrodinger’s cat into a box and nailed it shut until this thing is all over. Whether that means your world is over or not… honestly, I can’t say. But considering the situation, I wouldn’t lay odds on anything positive. When you get down to it, reality is a stack of potentialities, some more potential than others. But when chaos becomes certainty, then that certainty is usually oblivion.”

“Right then,” she said. “I’m going in. Wish me luck.”

They did. Except for Vom who was busy regurgitating a bus.

She pulled away, taking one last glance at the extradimensional refugees in her rearview mirror. She wondered at the wisdom of driving willingly into a place where immortal horrors feared to tread, but she’d come this far.

The unattended manor gates opened for her. She knew they were probably on an automated system or operated by a security guard via a remote switch, but it was mysterious and otherworldly just the same. A wave of heat and cold hit her as she drove onto the property. The gates closed behind her, and there was a twinge above her right eye. The heat vanished. The cold remained.

It’d been noon on the outside, but on this side of the gate twilight was falling. The full moon spread a bright blue light across the sky. Fenris glistened like a moist emerald.

The lush forest surrounding the road was a strange mix of traditional greenery and odd plants she didn’t recognize. Things lurked in the shadows. Instinct told her they were nothing to fear. Just insubstantial shades caught between realities.

Eventually she reached the big house at the center of this. Sharon sat on the front porch, waiting for Diana.

That twinge above Diana’s eye spread to her entire scalp.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I got hung up.”

They shook hands. It was an awkward gesture between them. There was something about this place, something that labeled Diana an outsider at best, an intruder at worst.

Sharon led Diana into the house. They passed through the entryway, down a hall, and into a dining room, where Greg was having something to eat.

“Ah, good to see you again, Diana.” He didn’t sound sincere.

He offered her something. She turned it down. Since she had entered the estate her appetite had faded for the first time in a long while. It might have been a welcome feeling, if not for the weird tingles and pricks across her skin at the moment.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she said.

“Oh, no need to thank me. Sharon has been very important to our cause. She made quite a case for you.”

“Diana has concerns,” said Sharon. “I was hoping you’d be able to help her with those.”

Greg smiled as he spread some pâté on a cracker. “Concerns are only natural. You’re only human, after all, right?”

He laughed. The women echoed the chuckle awkwardly.

“So what’s on your mind, Diana?”

She tried to organize her thoughts, although the way the atmosphere pressed against her made that difficult. Not to mention that she genuinely didn’t know how to voice her concerns.

“It’s Calvin. You do realize he’s going to destroy the world, right?”

Greg offered a patronizing grin. “Ah, there’s your problem. Do you really think that’s what’s going to happen? No wonder you’re so concerned.”

He took a drink of wine, but he did so with agonizing slowness. He picked up the glass, swished the liquid around, sniffed it, took a very slight sip, and set the glass back into its original place with robotic precision.

“Fenris isn’t going to destroy the world. He’s going to purify it. He’s going to strip away all the unnecessary bits and leave us with something better, more beautiful and raw.”

He narrowed his eyes. His grin became more obviously sinister.

“Primal.”

“With all due respect,” said Diana angrily, “what the hell does that even mean?” She was getting sick of this vaguely philosophical nonsense.

Greg was taken aback. “I’ve been more than accommodating to this point, but it’s clear you don’t get it. Perhaps you lack the ability to understand the subtleties—”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap, but it’s just so frustrating.”

“I can imagine.” And for once, he sounded sincere. “Can we cut the bullshit?” he said. “You seem like a good person, and we’re so close to the end that I don’t see any reason not to level with you.”

He stood, picked at something in his teeth.

“It’s all crap. All of it. The cult. This house. All the talk about primordial beauty. It sounds good on paper, and it brings in the cultists, makes everyone feel better, like they’re part of some grand, cosmic life cycle. But it’s complete and utter bullshit. New Agey nonsense that doesn’t mean a damn thing.

“I only come up with it because people can’t handle the truth. Or maybe they just don’t want to hear it. Regardless, I can see that you don’t need me to feed you the standard line. Do you want to know the truth, then?

“The truth is that I have no more control over anything that’s happening than you do. I don’t control Fenris. I don’t exert the slightest influence over him. And I most certainly can’t change hi nature or stop what will happen.”

“But aren’t Calvin and Fenris the same thing?” asked Diana. “Can’t you just talk to Calvin about it?”

“Calvin is just a very small piece of Fenris, and he doesn’t have any more control over the moon god than I do. That’s the truth. Fenris is one entity divided into three aspects. The moon is the physical substance of the creature. Fenris itself is all of its metaphysical bulk. And Calvin, tiny little Calvin, is the creature’s intellect. Divided, each of these aspects is largely harmless. But when joined together, they become an absolute. Unstoppable. Inescapable. A united Fenris will tear this world to pieces, and there’s not a damn thing to be done about it.

“But I have seen the future, and while our universe will be almost destroyed by Fenris’s escape, it will not be irreparably damaged. It will fix itself. The broken threads will wrap themselves into new shapes, new forms. Our world will survive. In some savage form. I’m merely attempting to save as many souls as I can in the aftermath by harnessing the mystical force unleashed to survive the storm of chaos and ensure that some of us come out the other side alive.”

Diana’s vision grew bleary. She had trouble breathing.

“Oh, I can’t guarantee that what people come out the other side will be recognizable as such. In fact, I can say with certainty that to survive the cataclysm we’ll have to change into something else entirely. The survivors will be monsters, but at least something of us will remain. Something deep down. It’s not much.” He shrugged. “But it’s the best we can hope for.”

“But…” Her legs were weak. “But…” She couldn’t think straight.

“Sorry. I guess I should’ve warned you. Only those who are linked with the moon god can tolerate this place for long. Your connection to other forces is going to have adverse side effects.”

Diana stood halfway before falling to the floor.

“Greg, what are you doing?” said Sharon. “This isn’t right.”

He sighed. “Sharon, this woman means well, but she could jeopardize everything. She clearly knows just enough to be dangerous. If she’d been smarter, she wouldn’t have come in here at all. If she’d been dumber, she’d have stayed out of it.”

Diana twitched. She crawled in a random direction, confused by her unreliable senses.

“You said you’d help her understand,” said Sharon.

“I know, and I’m sorry that I lied. But it’s a lie for the greater good. If she interferes, if she disrupts the delicate balance, then Fenris will destroy everything. You know that’s true. You know that this is the right thing to do, no matter how distasteful it might be.”

Diana gurgled. Sharon stopped looking at the pathetic thing.

“We can’t just leave her there.”

“We’ll put her in one of he bedrooms. She’ll be fine once it’s all over.”

They carried her upstairs to one of the nicer rooms and laid her down on the bed.

Diana’s pale flesh was sallow and waxen. If she was trying to speak, her voice came out only as a series of unintelligible noises.

“In a few hours,” he said, “none of this will matter.”

“What about her monsters?” asked Sharon.

“I wouldn’t worry about them. The interference that’s gripped her has probably destroyed their ability to focus as well. And even if they are still alert enough, they can’t come in here.”

“It doesn’t seem right, Greg.”

“Right and wrong won’t matter tomorrow.”

He walked out of the room.

Sharon watched Diana convulse for a few minutes. Her body became a twisted ball of knots as muscles bulged and flexed against her will. Her eyes had rolled back, and she could only drool.

Sharon hated him for it, but Greg was correct.

“I’m sorry.”

Diana gasped and for a moment there was intelligence in her eyes. She grabbed Sharon’s leg, tried to say something, then fell twitching again. Sharon left Diana to struggle with her own broken form.