This is a short story I’ve been working on during the weekends even as I write out my new Snow White-inspired fantasy novel (aimed to be a duology that might get published. I don’t know. There are days where I fear nothing I write is actually any good and I really should just put a stop to the delusion of becoming a bestselling author). In any case, it has traces of occult and cosmic horror because something about those genres fascinates me to no end. I mean, I don’t want to go mad in some New England town and start worshipping a fish monster but there’s something about the aesthetic and vibes that I really really like.

So sue me.

Then, of course, there’s the title of this piece, which is derived from a lyric from the reprise of Wait for Me in Hadestown (which, in and of itself, is a great musical and one I got to watch when it was in Sydney! Now, if only Beetlejuice would come visit instead of being a Melbourne only exclusive).

I would also like to say that there are two other quotes that fit nicely into the story though they didn’t directly inspire it:

“Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? For love.” – Singed, Arcane

“There is no genius without a touch of madness.” – Lucius Annaeus Seneca

And with that, I hope you enjoy this wonderful mad romp! As always, this can also be found on my FictionPress and Wattpad!

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Towering above the ruins, the tattered fragments of a flag fluttered weakly in the wind. Strains of a classic piano arrangement floated on the breeze, played from a rusted old speaker. Where once it had been a magnificent to the past, the home of the elusive alchemist Trevisan was now naught but a shell.

His works lost to the sands of time. With even his name hotly contested as to its veracity.

It mattered not.

I had not come here to pay homage to a quack. Rather, my search had indicated Trevisan had something I greatly needed. A tome of rituals and spells. One that had been passed down over the aeons from the ancient Sumerians to the present-day. Within its pages, one could do the impossible.

Turn lead into gold. Transform beast into man. Bring the dead back to life.

Once, I would have thought such a thing preposterous. It was my belief that the greatest scientific minds of the past were but little children playing at pretend. They understood so little of the universe when compared to the modern day, attributing much of the natural phenomena around them to fictitious gods. Ones who were capricious and vain. And all too human.

Even with the advent of monotheist religions, humans were desperate to hold onto a greater power in order to make sense of their purpose and place.

Complete and utter hogwash!

Or so I thought until that pivotal day when Nicholas and I had chosen to travel to Peru on our honeymoon. On the fifth day, we had chosen to camp out near the Nazca Lines, among the desert sands and with the stars above us, a veritable treasure trove of other worlds and a reminder of the vast expanse of space.

The Nazca Lines had always been fascinating to Nicholas.

A series of geoglyphs etched into the desert sands, their purpose and origin remained a mystery. But what Nicholas loved about them were the designs and the shapes and how they were only truly visible from the sky.

Who were they for? What did they mean?

All these and more, Nicholas had hoped to uncover.

Until, of course, he couldn’t.

That night underneath the stars was the last we would share with each other ever again.

I remember it still. How the two of us lay in each other’s arms, staring up at the heavens. The night sky awash with stars. Each one glittering with their own inner light. How many countless other worlds were there? Did sentient life exist out there? If so, what would they make of humans?

And then Nicholas raised a finger and pointed at something just to the left.

It had looked like a beacon. Possibly a plane or passing satellite.

But it grew ever larger; coming closer and closer. Enveloping both Nicholas and I in its strange off-green light.

Knowledge, beyond anything I could ever imagine, rushed through my mind. The secrets of the universe laid bare before me. Every wall humanity had struggled to solve suddenly seemed immensely trivial. How had we not known one plus one equalled two? 

In that moment, I was both mortal and God.

There was nothing I could not do.

We would finally be able to achieve the impossible!

As abruptly as I had been bequeathed the knowledge humanity could have yearned for, it was stripped away. The glow faded and with it the epiphanies I had been granted. They vanished from my mind like sand through my fingers.

The more I tried to reach for them, the further they seemed.

I could not let this happen!

I would not let this happen.

“Agnes. Agnes, stop.” Nicholas’ voice was meant to be soothing; his hand on my shoulder a comfort.

But in my desperation, it felt like a shackle holding me back. I whirled on him, vision red.

I don’t know what happened next. But when daylight broke over us, Nicholas was dead. His body torn and ravaged as if a savage animal had ripped him to shreds.

That was when I realised what I had done.

And it broke me.

For the first time, I prayed to a higher power. Wishing to reverse time. Wishing Nicholas and I hadn’t chosen to come to Peru. Or to visit the Nazca Lines.

I knew in my head it wouldn’t work. After all, I was a scientist. Why would anyone listen to the wishes of a mote of dust? Or take pity on one?

Bad things happened to good people all the time and the Gods cared not a whit.

Yet, to my surprise, a voice answered.

No.

To say it was a voice isn’t quite right. It was more of a feeling. Or like a passing intrusive thought that was different from my own internal monologue. Like when I had glimpsed the mysteries of the universe for one short fleeting moment.

It told me I had all I needed to bring back Nicholas. As long as I was willing to do what was necessary.

Fast forward to the present day and me trawling through the refuse of the past in a bid to uncover the secrets of the past. I had realised only after many years of fruitless searching I’d been too dismissive of the ancients. There was a truth in what people believed. From the Ancient Greeks to the Chinese alchemists.

Trevisan’s library was naught but a shell, replaced by prop tomes meant to convey a sense of what his workshop might truly have been like before being sold to the masses. When that venture too, had fallen to the wayside, the castle had remained. Albeit, in a crumbling dilapidated sort of way.

If only people had known of its true history.

But occultism had slowly fallen to the wayside as humanity stepped into the 20^th century.  Understandable, in all honesty, with the advent of hard-hitting science in the form of atomic weaponry and the ability to fly up among the very stars of the wider cosmos itself.

I pushed the thought aside as I made my way precariously across the ruins to a small cellar door on the far side of the replica library. It was fairly nondescript except for the rusted cellar door latch and handle. Plastered to the front was a sign stating the entrance was for ‘Staff Only.’

Though it took some time, I managed to pry the doors open with a crowbar I’d brought with him. Darkness yawned before me. Taking out my phone, I turned on the flashlight and descended down the stone steps.

It was slow going. The steps were slippery and the walls were covered in a green sludge-like substance. One I didn’t care to inspect closer.

Down, down, down I went until I reached a short passageway at the bottom.

Finding a switch, I turned it on, hoping it would light up the area.

Nothing happened.

I wasn’t sure if it was because nobody had paid the electricity bill for the abandoned theme park or if there was a fault somewhere in the wiring. Pointing my phone up at the ceiling revealed nothing of note. Thick pipes wended their way down the passageway with intermittent industrial-sized lights to mark the way.

It was easy enough to follow.

Up ahead, a narrow room emerged. Old crates were stacked against each other and there were a set of lockers stashed to at the far end. Behind them sat a door. Heavy and thick and solid.

There would be no breaking it open if it was locked.

Something that became crystal clear to me when I inspected it, after moving aside the hefty set of lockers, and found the door would not give even an inch, no matter if I pushed or pulled. Worse, there was no keyhole or handle.

I swore under my breath.

Had everything I’d done come to this? The years of meticulous research, the money I’d poured into expedition after expedition, the nights I’d spent poring over ancient texts and scribbling out archaic equations, and the blood I’d spilled…

No.

No, no, no, no!

This could not be the end. I wouldn’t allow it.

Slamming my fist futilely against the door, I cursed again. Why did it seem that as soon as I was within reach of what I wanted, it was always snatched away from me? It wasn’t fair. Be it the knowledge I’d briefly known or the love Nicholas had showered me.

Everything I touched turned to shit.

Lost in my morose thoughts, I did not notice the gentle glow of the runes until they began to pulsate.

The runes were not a language that existed still in the modern world. Rather, they were a mix of Sanskrit and Chinese logograms. It was a struggle to decipher them engraved as they were around the doorway. What little I could make out sounded like a riddle. A magic password, if you will, to enter and seek the knowledge locked beyond.

Of course, there is no such thing as magic.

Was it not Arthur C. Clarke who said, ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?’

In our modern age, with mini computers fitted snugly into our pockets, we consider ourselves the pinnacle of human civilisation. Every year we iterate, simplifying the contraptions we use.

No longer do we have to be experts in our field. We are fed our opinions by complex algorithms. Never questioning the need to fuel the constant consumption engine.

Is it any wonder we’re currently seated on a precarious ledge, blinded by our own hubris?

And by that same token, we look upon ages past and think of the people as simpletons. They were not ‘enlightened’ minds. After all, they were tilling the field, working based on seasonal changes and believing nonsense…

How utterly boorish.

The people of the past knew more than we would ever know.

Pulling out a compact notebook from my pocket, I scribbled down the runes. It was easier to make sense of them by putting everything into two neat little lines. To see everything ordered.

Wait a moment…

Tracing the first character and the last, the answer came to me with a jolt.

Of course! How could I have been so stupid?

There is much one can learn from philosophy. One principle that often comes to mind, as a student of the universe and its mysteries, is the one of parsimony. Or, in layman’s terms: Occam’s razor.  

And it held true. For the most part.

Like many before me, I had overcomplicated the solution. Convinced Trevisan would try to keep curious minds out instead of warmly inviting them in.

It was what I would have done.

But Trevisan was not one to hoard knowledge. Not for those who were willing to pay the price.

Thankfully, I had brought just the thing. Swinging my backpack around, I retried a small knife from the side pocket and nicked the edge of my left index finger. A trickle of blood oozed from the wound and I pressed it onto the door. In five quick strokes, I recreated the first character from the runes.

Leaning back, I admired my work for but the briefest moment before the entire room shook. There was a grinding noise in the distance. Loud and overbearing.

Within seconds, the door pushed open revealing another long corridor. I brought my phone’s flashlight to bear and then watched in amazement as sconces set at regular intervals burst into life. The flames danced, luring me on.

Switching off my phone flashlight, I pocketed it and ventured further inside. I was, most likely, to have braved the narrow passageway in centuries. There was a musty smell inside.

Wiping my uninjured hand along the way, I was rewarded with layers upon layers of dust.

Excitement bubbled inside of me. This was it!

I would no longer be haunted by old mistakes. That which I sought would finally be within reach.

The passageway was long and winding. Beneath the Earth, I lost any and all sense of direction as I traversed the labyrinth. For all I knew, I could have walked all the way across Europe and not know. The digital glow on my watch informed me only an hour had passed.

It felt like aeons.

Still the passageway continued. Trailing down into the bowels of the Earth.

After what felt far too long, I reached its end. The room was small. Compact. A furnace sat the far end, a pot or cauldron seated over the remains of a fire.

Shoved beside a mountain of books was an old writing desk. Papers lay strewn across its surface. The writing on them minute and nigh indecipherable.

On the floor next to the desk was an old alchemical filtration system. A flask sat atop a stack of books, a glass tube leading downwards a smaller beaker. Inside sat an unknown sluggish brown liquid. Curiosity drew my interest but I dared not test it. For all I knew, it was poison. Even if it wasn’t, it had sat in the laboratory for God knew how long. Centuries?

Whatever the case, it was clearly unfit for human consumption.

Above the desk was a map of Europe. It was marked in notes and calculations. All of it seemed to triangulate somewhere off the coast of Scotland.

It mattered not.

I was here for something else.

On the many shelves around the room sat a gilded box. Running my fingers over it, I could find no obvious seams or hidden hinges. There wasn’t even a trace of dust on the surface.

I grabbed hold of it and pulled it towards me. A barely visible inscription had been lightly carved across it. One word stood out from the rest: Trevisan.

This was it. Trevisan’s treasure.

I had read about it in the few surviving journals the mad alchemist had left behind. Although it was unfortunate most of his writings had been consigned to fire.

The unenlightened had been afraid. As they always were. What they did not understand, they condemned. Even when it was for their own betterment.

Time had not changed humanity’s failings. Only further exacerbated it.

Pushing those thoughts away, I brought Trevisan’s gilded box to the desk, moving aside the papers on the desk with a sweep of my arm, and set it down. There was no visible lock or lid to it. And yet, deep inside it sat the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe.

With it in hand, I could commune with the entity that had brushed my consciousness all those years ago and bring back Nicholas.

Pulling out my phone, I snapped two shots of the box before pocketing it away again. While I would have liked to remain, to puzzle out how it might be opened, daylight was fast fading up on the surface. I needed to leave. The sooner, the better.  

Opening Trevisan’s treasure could wait.

~

“You were gone a long time, Agnes. I—you should have sent me a message.”

I looked up as I stepped through the door of the AirBnB. Standing by the kitchen, arms crossed, was a wiry bespectacled man. William was no Nicholas. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He had no appetite for adventure, preferring to spend his time buried in theoretical physics, surrounded by books. Though he was curious about the wider world, he was often too frightened to make it out of the door even to pick up the groceries from the local Tesco.

In a twisted way, it made sense.

Like me, William had lost someone dear. And it had scarred him deeply.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling off my thick heavy boots. “There wasn’t much reception in the area.” A half-truth.

“Agnes, you know I—”

“Stop,” I said, interrupting him. “Let me be frank, William. I am not Sarah. And before you protest again, let me remind you that I know my limits. But this is more important than the both of us. So what if there’s a little risk? We can’t all live life cosseted.”

A muscle ticked in William’s jaw. I could see the retort dancing on the tip of his tongue.

He turned back towards the centre island in the middle of a kitchen to fuss with something on the counter and let out a huff. “Fine. But I’d still like it if you could give me some warning in advance.”

“You know I cannot—”

“Where possible,” he added, cutting me off. “At the very least, it’ll give me some peace of mind.”

I toyed with the idea of refusing his request. The very nature of our research meant travel to many a remote or inhospitable location. Then, of course, there was how caveman-like William’s demands were. His need for control would become a problem in the future if it was not nipped in the bud.

Yet, I could not simply dismiss his concerns. Especially considering how useful William still was to my plans.

A concession then. To ease his fears. But without the necessary commitment I could not provide. It was the best I could provide. “I’ll try,” I said, after a pause.

“Thank you, Agnes. For understanding.” A pause. “If you haven’t eaten yet, I made some dinner earlier. I was just putting it in the fridge.”

I resisted the urge to let out a snort as I made my way down the corridor to the left, ignoring William’s olive branch, as I dragged my hefty bag behind me. Dinner could wait. I had more important things to get to.

White cream walls denoted much of the short stay rental house. Along the corridor, the owners had hung several paintings of the European countryside. One was of the Mediterranean coastline. Another was of a grand tulip field, a pretty cottage perfectly placed in the background.

It was nauseatingly pedestrian.

A vision of a ‘normal’ life though my own had been anything but.

Even before Nicholas and the love we shared, I had always been different from my peers. I saw things others didn’t. Grasped concepts that eluded others.

My childhood memories primarily involved staying in the library or a classroom, discussing theoretical physics with my elementary school teacher. Unfortunately, despite my talents, my education was not accelerated. Much of it came down to my family’s lack of wealth, as well as my parents’ desire to see me build strong social connections with people my own age.

And while I was able to make some friends, none stayed for long. The whys eluded me until my first year at university when a tutor pulled me aside one day. He asked if I was doing all right and seemed unconvinced when I responded in the affirmative.

After a moment’s hesitation, he asked me something I would never forget. “Why do you let them treat you so poorly?”

The question had taken me aback. I remembered heat rising to my cheeks. “I don’t understand.”

“Your friends. They see you only as a means to an end.”

“Is that not what friendship is? An exchange of services?” I was barely able to keep myself civil. “I assure you, sir, Eleanor and Stephan are quite accommodating of my various quirks. They take me out and show me what life is like in spite of my differences. In return, I assist with any enquiry they have to their studies.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“We’ve known each other since high school.”

The tutor, realising perhaps he had overstepped, did not push the matter further. But it did leave me wondering. Though I never told him, I took his words to heart.

Shaking my head, I turned my thoughts back to Trevisan’s box. This was not the time to be reminiscing of times long past. I had a mission to complete.

There were secrets here just waiting for me to uncover.

And when I did, I would be one step closer to bringing Nicholas back.

In the wee hours of the morning, Trevisan’s gilded box opened with a soft click. With trembling hands, I lifted the lid, marvelling at how smooth the action was despite the years it had sat untouched. Trevisan, like many, was before his time. And though many had dismissed his research, he had succeeded in the end.

Yet what I pulled from the box was not the Philosopher’s stone.

Instead, I found a thick sheet of vellum. Words in English had been scrawled on it in a spidery hand.

Persist not in your endeavours. Only destruction await you at journey’s end, Agnes. Do not feed the Beast.

It was a warning. Addressed, inexplicably, to me. The last word had been underscored several times. But what did they mean by it? What ‘Beast’ would I feed?

The devil was not real. Lucifer did not fall from the heavens. Nor did God sit up there on his lofty throne looking down at all creation.

Perhaps, then, it was metaphorical?

Setting aside the piece of vellum, I felt around further in the box until I caught the underside of a false bottom. Lifting it up, I felt a spark of electricity spark up and down my arm. There, in a hidden compartment, was a thick heavy leatherbound tome.

Despite the centuries, it looked pristine. Perfect in its design.

There was no title though a glyph had been embossed into the centre with gold inlay. The alchemical symbols of lead and gold were etched around it.

I stared at it. Reverently.

Power lay within those pages. Whole secrets, waiting to be uncovered.

The only thing I needed to do was—

“Agnes?”

William greeted me with a sleepy smile when I turned to look over my shoulder. He was wearing a tattered old shirt and a pair of boxers. His hair was mussed though he had the foresight to grab his glasses.

“A few more minutes. I’m on the cusp of a great discovery—”

“Can’t it wait? Please, Agnes, it’s almost four in the morning. You need to rest.”

I scoffed. “And fall behind when I’m so close? No, William. Now is the time to seize—”

“Do you even hear yourself?” he cut in, pulling me short. “Come to bed, Agnes. I’m sure neither Nicholas nor Sarah will begrudge us a few hours of sleep. Besides, you’ve been up for nigh on two days. Your body won’t be able to keep up. Nor your mind.”

Though I was loathe to admit it, I knew William was right.

Reluctantly, I peeled myself away from the tome, setting the false bottom back over it and shut the lid of the box. William summoned up a conciliatory smile as he laid his arm over my shoulders.

I suppose he thought it would comfort me. A silent apology when it wasn’t needed.

But it only drew my attention to the fact William was no replacement to my sweet handsome Nicholas. His touch, rather than serving as a balm, only agitated me further. Goosebumps raced down my arm and I instinctively pulled away.

He did not notice.

Finally, he led me to our shared bedroom. He kissed me gently on the forehead. “If you need any help with washing up or getting changed, Agnes, let me know.”

“Of course. Thank you, William.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “We’re in this together, Agnes. You and me.”

“I know,” I answered.

William leaned down, perhaps to kiss me on the cheek, but I moved away. Once the door of the ensuite bathroom was shut behind me, I shed the dusty clothes I’d been wearing for the entirety of the day and stepped into the shower.

~

The Book of the Dead went by many different names. In Ancient Egypt, it was a set of mortuary texts filled with spells and magic formulas believed to aid the deceased in the afterlife. In another life, it was known as the Necronomicon and was filled with various secrets that would drive anyone who read it to madness.

As with most objects of such importance, its very existence was lost to the annals of time. Passing quickly into legend with only the odd rumour whispered about.

To think it had been tucked away in a ruined castle, hidden inside a gilded box set amongst Trevisan’s many treasures.

And it was all mine.

I ran a hand over the leatherbound cover and opened the tome to the first page. An inscription in Olde English lay within. Translated, it read: That which is dead may never die.

Hope flared within me. While I had intended to find and secure the Philosopher’s Stone in Trevisan’s collection, the Book of the Dead was a far superior find. Within its pages, I was sure I would be able to find something to bring Nicholas back. After all, I already had a rudimentary understanding of what needed to be done.

It was simply a question of execution.

Or so I had been promised by the voice inside my head. The one that had been with me ever since the night out under the stars in Peru. And which sounded just like my Nicholas…

Turning the page, I began to read.

~

With the wind howling like a banshee, I pressed myself against the seaside cliff, afraid to be blown off the narrow ridge.  Sea spray and rain soaked through my waterproof parka, chilling my very bones as I finally slipped into the narrow opening that served as the entrance to a cave.

William, Travis and Doreen followed afterwards. All three looked bedraggled and exhausted, and none too happy for coming with me. They had only agreed after I’d told them what I had found in The Book of the Dead.

Travis and Doreen, Nicholas’s parents, had been sceptical at first. The loss of their son had been hard on them but they had never once blamed me.

Sometimes I wished they had. I did not deserve the kindness they showered me with. It would have been easier to deal with the recriminations than the understanding and love they extended me.

When I had first told them of what I had planned, they had pulled me down onto the couch and enveloped me in a warm hug. As they pulled back, concern was reflected in their eyes.

“Agnes, dear, we know you and Nicholas were nigh inseparable. Yet though Travis and I wish nothing more to have our son back with us, what you seek is an impossibility. The Lord—”

“What Doreen means to say, Agnes, is that we’re here for you. After all, we’re family.”

“Loss and grief can make us do things we wouldn’t normally do. Believe in things we wouldn’t normally believe. It takes time to move beyond but we’ll be there to support you every step of the way.”

Convincing them I had not lost my mind had been a difficult endeavour. Even then, it still felt like the two of them were humouring me.

No matter.

Once I brought Nicholas back, they would see.

Deeper into the cave we went, guided by the candles I’d lit earlier in the day. They were of a special make. Able to last for hours with a clean burn. But more importantly, they were important for the upcoming ritual I would be performing. I’d already gone over it a thousand times, memorising every single step until I could do it in my sleep.

The flames flickered in the darkness; filled with promise.

Finally, we stepped out into a wide cavern.

A shocked gasp came from behind me followed by a quick curse. There was no need to turn around to know what had happened. Doreen always had a soft heart. She would not have been able to stomach the sight of a man and woman trussed up on a sacrificial altar. Around it was a ritual circle. One that had taken hours to complete as I’d painstakingly ensured the runes were correct, painted with the blood of lamb I’d had to carefully drain during the new moon.

The instructions had been exact.

I could not afford any mistakes. Even a simple grammatical error could lead to failure. And that was not something I could risk. Not when the stakes were so high.

“Agnes. What is this?”

I turned to Travis, a beatific smile on my face. “This is how we bring back Nicholas.”

My father-in-law stared at me then at the altar, and then back to me. He opened his mouth looking like he wanted to protest. But then he glanced to the unconscious woman in his arms. He closed his mouth, his lips a thin life.

I knew from his rigid movements that he did not approve.

It mattered not.

They had come, as required.

Their voluntary participation for the rest of the ritual was unnecessary.

I nodded to William, signalling for him to do what we had discussed earlier in the week. He looked green around the gills but he acknowledged my unspoken order. In quick succession, he pulled out a cloth and a bottle of chloroform. Without warning, he clamped his hand over Travis’s nose and mouth.

The man struggled but William was surprisingly strong. After several minutes, Travis’s body slumped forwards. William managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

Together, we moved Travis into the ritual circle. Then Doreen.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, William looked at me. An unreadable expression on his face. “Sarah first. Then Nicholas.”

“Of course,” I said. “You would doubt me still?”

William looked askance. And in his non-response, I had my answer.

“Did you bring what I asked?”

He seemed to break free from his reverie and nodded. From his pocket, he pulled out a blue velvet box. “Where—”

“Up on the ritual altar.”

Carefully stepping over the lines I’d painstakingly painted on the ground, William reverently the box on the altar between the sacrifices we had rounded up the day before.

The woman was young. She had short blonde hair that rested just above her shoulders and was dressed in a summery floral dress. There were cuts and scrapes on her hands and knees from being dragged along the stone.

Unlike his companion, the man was older. He had a scruffy beard threaded with silver and wore a patchwork coat over a tattered shirt. His denim jeans were scuffed at the knees and the hem. Dirt caked his nails.

Both of them had been alone when William and I had picked them up from the road. The woman had been drunk. Tottering on unsteady feet, her heels clutched in her left hand, down a side alley behind the local pub. She had flagged down our car, thinking we were her Uber.

We did not dissuade her.

William had been uneasy all throughout the deception. He had glanced over at me at the passenger seat. Though he said not a word, I knew what he was thinking.

But we were so close. And I could not allow him to get cold feet.

“For Sarah,” I told him in no uncertain terms.

He had looked back to the road. “For Sarah,” he had repeated, knuckles gripping the steering wheel so tight they had gone white.

It was a good thing Wiliam could be so easily manipulated. His love for Sarah was both his strength and his greatest weakness. One I knew how to exploit.

“What next?” he asked, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Over in the centre. You will need to lead.”

William nodded. Carefully, he made his way across the inscribed lines. There was a nervous energy in his movements. I couldn’t tell if he was having doubts or if he was simply excited to see his precious Sarah again.

The stories he had told of his wife-to-be like the warmth of her smile made me more inclined to believe the latter. There was an earnestness to them. And the way his eyes glinted…

Once William made his way back to the unconscious bodies of Travis and Doreen, the ritual began.

Together, we chanted the lines as they had been laid out in the Book of the Dead. To my surprise, William stumbled only once. His tongue tripping itself over the pronunciation.

Then, raising the obsidian dagger we had managed to procure, he drew a line across the palm of his hand before marking the ground around him with the runes I’d shown him earlier.

As he did so, a low rumbling energy seemed to thrum through the cavern. As if in answer to his plea.

The candles flared. The blood runes glowed with an inner power.

Perhaps invigorated by it, William continued to work with a fervour in his eyes. The thing he had wanted for nigh on a decade was finally within his grasp.

On the periphery, I continued with my own preparations. The Book of the Dead had said that in order to bring back what was once lost, sacrifices needed to be made. A balancing of the scales, so to speak, as well as the provision of a symbolic token.

Mine was already sitting up on the altar, nestled in among the ritualistic trappings required.

It may not have had the sentimentality of William’s ring, but it was something both Nicholas and I had shared.

As the ritual reached its climax, time slowed.

I looked up and saw William caught up in a frenzy of wild chaotic magic, somehow lifting up into the air. He was accompanied by Travis, Doreen and the two others we had brought along as sacrifices.

Then, suddenly, they froze in mid-air.

This was not how the ritual was supposed to go. William forced open his eyes. In alarm or shock, I could not tell, his gaze darting towards me. In them, I read the question he could not give voice to.

In turn, I merely smiled.

Betrayal, shock and fear reflected in the steely grey, hidden behind glass, as realisation dawned. It was gone within seconds as I brought my own dagger, inscribed with the correct runes and made of pure iron, to plunge into his chest.

William’s eyes widened as the magical energy he had conjured rushed into his body before exploding outwards towards the altar and into the small homunculus I had placed there. Glowing with a green light, it shot beams out toward Doreen and Travis.

And then, as quick as the eye can blink, the candles in the cavern went out and I was plunged into darkness. Three thuds sounded in quick succession as William, Travis and Doreen landed on the rocky ground.

An aeon seemed to pass afterwards…but then something in the darkness began to pulse.

It was faint at first. And for a moment, I feared the ritual had failed. Perhaps Nicholas had passed over and embarked on the next great adventure without me.

But then, in the gloom, I saw it. The outline of the homunculus.

With each new pulse, it began to grow. Another beam of light burst from it, smashing into the blonde woman’s chest. She let out a pained gasp, eyes wide with fear. Her lips moved to a soundless prayer as she begged for a salvation that would not come.

I watched with morbid fascination as her youth and vitality seemed to drain from her body. Within seconds, a desiccated husk dropped to the altar.

The beggar was next.

As the beam hit his chest, he let out a groan. Yet, unlike the woman, he seemed to have accepted his fate. As his energy was absorbed into the homunculus, he fell back onto the altar in a heap.

For several moments, the room hummed and I waited with bated breath.

Then, before I could even react, a beam of light struck me too.

~

When I awoke on the cold slimy floor of the cavern, my cheek pressing into the stone, the candles were burning low in their holders. Though passingly strange, I was more concerned to see if everything I had done in obeisance to the instructions laid out in The Book of the Dead had brought me my heart’s desire.

I knew there was still a heavy price I would need to pay.

But I knew it would be worth it.

After all, what value did a world without my dear Nicholas have if he was no longer in it?

As I rose unsteadily to my feet, something lying on the ground just outside the ritual circle, close to the altar, caught my eye. It looked almost human with its flesh-like colour. I stumbled forward, squinting to make out what it was, even as my head was threatening to split open.

Drawing close, I thought I could make out small independent appendages attached to the object. And if I wasn’t mistaken, it had an elongated section that vanished around the corner.

It took me several moments of staring to realise what exactly I was looking at.

Heart pounding in my ears, I ran over to cradle the head of my beloved Nicholas in my lap. With his eyes closed just so, he looked asleep though his chest did not seem to rise or fall.

Fuck. Had the ritual not worked?

Desperate, I pressed my fingers against his pulse point. Yet, despite my efforts, I could not detect anything.

Even placing my fingers against his nose, I could not feel any semblance of breath.

Had I truly done all I had for nothing?

Tears I had long forced back sprang to my eyes as I cupped the face of my dead husband and pushed back a lock of his hair. Though the ritual had not worked, I was once more with my precious Nicholas.

Perfect and whole. Just as he had been all those years ago.

The sob that burst through my lips caught me by surprise.

Overwhelmed by everything, I pulled Nicholas close in a crushing embrace.

He had been my love; my heart. To have come so close and fail at such a critical juncture…it was not fair.

Tears dripped on his pale cheek. As I moved to wipe them away, a warmth suffused the body in my arms. And then, before I knew it, Nicholas took a deep shuddering gasp and his eyes opened. I could make out the startling blue of his irises as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

They crinkled in mirth as he spotted me, one hand lifting up to cup my face. “Agnes.” My name was like a prayer on his lips.

Yet before he made contact, he flinched back and scrambled out of my hold. I was left bereft and cold.

“Nicholas?”

“Get away from me!”

“It’s me!” I kept my hands at my sides, palms facing towards my love made flesh. To let him know I would not hurt him. That I was safe. “Nicholas, please, let me—”

He seemed to recoil as I drew closer. “You’re not her. My Agnes would never do something so terrible.”

Hearing his words and seeing his reaction, my heart could not help but studder. They struck right at the core of who I was and what I had gone through just to reach this point.

The sleepless nights where guilt had eaten me up on the inside. Of the years spent searching for any and all solutions. The struggle of knowing what I had to sacrifice to bring back the one good thing in my life.

Had everything I’d done be for naught?

Was this what all the tears and pain had brought me?

My Nicholas.

Brought back whole and perfect. Unblemished. Just as he had been on that night in Peru.

But even though he had been brought back right, I had changed.

The Agnes he knew, as he had rightly implied, was gone. Teared apart by all the things she convinced herself she had to do in order to bring him back.

The concept was so novel to me, I started to giggle.  A little break here and then but ultimately containable. Because the more I thought about all I had done, the funnier it seemed to me.

Before I could stop myself, I was clutching my stomach as laughter fell from my lips and tears from my eyes.

Nicholas looked on. Scared and petrified of the woman before him. And he had every right to be.

What I had done was arguably morally reprehensible from the layman’s perspective. It could be argued I’d killed both of Nicholas’ parents just to bring their son back. Then there were the two strangers I had also brought in as part of the ritual. Innocents who had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. And, of course, William. Betrayed at the last moment.

Yet they were not the only people I’d hurt.

To obtain the secrets of the universe and unlock what Trevisan had left behind, I’d committed countless atrocities. The years of obsession had twisted me into someone Nicholas could no longer recognise. Even without bat wings or a forked tongue, I was a monster.

With these thoughts in my head, and still laughing, I staggered back towards the ritual circle.

So much death. Only to be spurned by the very man I had done all this for.

The weight of the blade sat heavy in my hands as I picked it up from the ground. It was a tool like any other. To be used for good or ill depending on the intent of the one who wielded it.

Of course, while obsidian had its uses, they were not commonly employed. Course and brittle, it had been a miracle it hadn’t shattered when William had dropped it earlier.

Still, it would suffice for what I had in mind.

I would make this right.

~

In the end, the choice was no choice at all.

Staring out over the cliffs and the crashing waves below, I wondered where it had all gone wrong. But try as I might, my thoughts circled back to that night underneath the stars.

Back then, everything had seemed possible. With Nicholas at my side, I knew there was nothing we couldn’t do. Pardon the cliché, but we had always brought out the best in each other. He, brilliant in his little way, and me, in mine.

The future seemed unlimited.

Until it had all come falling down around me.

I had seen the impossible. Comprehending what was forever out of reach.

And then I’d lost it.

Madness had taken me then. As it did now, though I had been blind to see it.

There was something all too cunning in how it manipulated me. Consuming my every thought. Dictating my desires. And even influencing the decisions I made.

So, I had done the only thing I could.

After all, there was no cleaning the blood staining my hands. Not now. Not ever.

I took another step towards the ledge and took a deep breath to settle my nerves. How much better would it be to finally stop thinking? To let it all go?

Such a thing didn’t seem all that possible…and yet, I couldn’t shake how it called to me.

Off in the distance, there was a blood curdling roar before something appeared in the skies above me. Despite the storm, I could make out some sort of light, eerie in the off-green colouring.

It drew me in.

Before I could stop myself, I had taken a step forward.

Into the air.