Phantom Path

“For what purpose was I created? For what purpose do I live? For I, a man, know not the reasons I suffer, Lord. It is by your grace that I am to be at peace. Yet...I live afraid, torn apart by a world now unfamiliar, when it was already so unknown. And now...I struggle to keep my faith in you who command me to be of good courage. But now I question if you were ever even here, if all I walked...was a Phantom Path,” The gentleman reads, closing the book, with one who hears and face still, his dark coloured eyes softened at the scenery behind the glass he stares from, the everyday citizen living, the air conditioning directly above his head, the chilly air tightens on his skin like a weighted blanket, a hint of sorrow takes over.

“You wrote that yourself, Fritz?” Another asks.

“No. An American Author, sometimes after his city got overtaken,” the old man chuckles.

“Frank McKov, Alexis. We met him some months ago. In Kingston at the hotel?” the one staring at the outside answers, his eyes drifting away from the view of a group of friends enjoying burgers, meeting the old man’s attention, who confirms with a nod.

“Oh! Sorry! Now I remember that depressing scent of his,” Alexis scratches his head, his hazel eyes subtly glinting in the evening light, as he draws some papers from his desk, a newspaper reporting on the missing case of a college student on top, remembering the smell of heavy drinking on the man.

“Depressing? How can we blame him, Alexis? I can’t imagine losing all that fortune. And being a very notable writer before... well, you know...” The gentleman chuckles, rubbing his white beard.

“Ah boy..” Alexis shakes his head, the three of them looking over to see the television across the office space showcasing a brief showcase of the event in the year 2019, the year this all began, the apocalyptic event that created this new world. “Eight years and they’re still showing this crap to us! Ugh!”

“Now, young Nathaniel,” Fritz clears his throat, taking a sip of coffee as he pulls a file of documents from his briefcase and lays it in front of the young man, who sits up in his seat, his attention piqued.

“You aren’t here just to catch up, huh?” Nathaniel states, a set of pictures laid out on his table.

“Business as always,” Fritz sips more of his coffee. “A small community in Negril. Three bodies in two months. All possibly by the same creature”

“An entity?” Nathaniel skims through the pictures, the murdered all having a part of their body missing, looking like they were being eaten and saved for later, all in isolated cases, in areas outside of the community.

“Most likely. A typical case of monsters. The parish’s official tourism board sent in this request. They are requesting someone of discreet behaviour...such as yourself”

“A cover-up,” Alexis states, skimming through papers. “Doesn’t seem like they want this reaching the news, Nate”

“Figures as much. Despite everything, Negril is still one of our biggest tourist spots. I can’t imagine they’d want that the other way”

“Not when the economy is doing so well, huh?” Alexis scoffs. “They’re wanting to deal with this before it escalates”

“I have an acquaintance there. She owns a villa in the community. A nice view, if I say so myself. They also owe me a favour, so if you choose to accept this request, it’s yours until you’ve finished your business there,” Fritz expounds, Nathaniel slowly nodding his head.

“Alright,” Nathaniel accepts. “I’ll be on the road first thing tomorrow morning”

The 8 pm ambience of Montego Bay is now an odd one, a stark contrast to the world from eight years ago, as the trio step out into a new society, a mix of a modern third-world country city and a scene from a sci-fi novel; neon lights, holograms, and future tech now a wide incorporation within the country, with only the skyscrapers missing. Jamaica’s fashion also evolved, with the average Jamaican’s fashion style a mix of modern global and traditional streetwear, now blended with high-tech implementations. Nathaniel takes it all in, looking up at the digital billboard, showcasing once again the event from that time, the great collision, two worlds that merged due to unknown happenings of the cosmos. So many things changed, he thinks, still not used to any of it.

“Hey,” Alexis taps him on the back of his neck, walking to his car. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll hold things down until you get back. Have a little fun while you’re there too, y’know? Get laid or something”

“Hm. Later, man,” Nathaniel chuckles, Alexis driving off, as he then enters his own vehicle.

The city lights carry so differently now, because underneath them, is a whole different life; with the collision also came people from another Earth, beings also humans, some also completely alien and fantasy, as he watches one crossing the digitally lit pedestrian way, this foreigner’s skin visibly blue even with all the displays of colours coming from the street and darkness of the night, their head of tentacles swaying like they’re dancing. He reaches home, living in an uptown area, in a gated community where the security guard greets and lets him in, his apartment lonely and silent, no one to greet him as he turns on the light, turning on the television as the first thing he does, filling that silence with an interview from the United Kingdom with another alien being and how life for them has been since the collision, these new species of people being classified as ‘The Neighbours’.

He stops and stares at the television as he listens; he contemplates cooking, even something light. He goes into the kitchen, the fridge full of ingredients, many unused and fairly fresh. He sighs, tapping the side, his eyes glancing around; his mind is made up, only pulling a beverage of alcohol and a case of leftover doughnuts. And the night crawls to a darker setting, water running in the bathroom, Nathaniel standing beneath the shower like rain that beats down on his body, toned and disciplined, his stance still, but his mind now troubled, seemingly by memories or thoughts that flood his head, rubbing his eyes like he’s trying to erase what’s in front of his vision, and a blur, finished with rubbing them, he suddenly now lies in bed, the feeling like his perception of time is distorted, the feeling like the ocean sways beneath him, his eyes highlighted by the streak of light from the outside, barely blinking, his mind elsewhere, the visions returned; A crowd screaming in terror, fear in their eyes, anger then regret in his.

It repeats, for what feels like a hundred times, a haunting through the night, the feeling of his head being filled with heat, his mouth open wide as if to scream from an unbearable pain appearing but phantom, as his eyes widen to a sight of great flames that appear before him, chill on his skin as he begins to shake uncontrollably, all suddenly ceasing, easing him back to normal, to his rescue, a creak of light, the morning that comes quickly; he exhales, deep breaths, in and out, relieved as he slwoly sits up at the side of his bed, not as rested as Alexis requested him to be.

The morning air seeps into his place, his suitcase already packed, a sheathed weapon with a special symbol among the items he’s travelling with. But before his departure, he rests his arms atop his legs, his eyes closed, taking deep breaths; he meditates to the sound of the morning hours, chirping birds and waking neighbourhood. Windows down, the radio on, he drives with news from all over the world: discoveries, alliances, inventions and wars. At some point, the air begins to change; it’s cleaner, reaching into the parish of Westmoreland, and even in the crazy eight years, not much has changed about it; very much still rural, small corner shops, zinc roofs and much more foliage, old and country with minimal advanced technology. He reaches Negril, to the small community of Great Stone Beach, defined by the long stretch of its rocky shore, a nice refresher with all the technological advancements in the city, he thinks; the fashion of the people here less augmented. He reaches the villa; an older woman at the front, mid-fifties, like Fritz, he guesses as he parks his vehicle.

“Hello, good morning, Sir. You must be the great Nathaniel. A pleasure to meet you,” She greets him with a firm hug. “I am Elena, or Miss Pet as the people around here call me”

“Likewise. And thank you for having me. It’s a beautiful place you have here,” He compliments, looking around as he follows on a small tour through the villa, a magnificent property, private and beautiful.

“It’s an honour, Mister Munroe. My children are big fans of you. Wait until I get home and tell them that the great ‘Firebreather’ is here”

“I see...” He chuckles, almost blushing as she speaks, but slightly disturbed at being called that name.

“When Dennis called, I could not believe he was getting me to host someone of your stature. If I had a million more, I would have purchased more land for you to have for yourself. If there is anything you need, Mister Munroe, my number is on the dining room table”

“Understood,” Nathaniel chuckles, the woman warm and full of charm to his understanding. “Thank you, ma’am. I think I’ll take a walk into the main square, actually”

“Yes, man. That is no problem. But one thing I have to tell you, Mister Munroe. The locals here are a bit more...conservative, if you know what I mean,” She cringes, her hand on his arm as they’ve made it to her vehicle.

“Yes, ma’am...Understood,” He nods.

“Anyhow, enjoy your stay. And if you’re kind enough, I have something for Dennis for when you’re ready to leave,” She starts her vehicle, Nathaniel waving goodbye to her as she drives off, the air he inhales as he walks back into the house, his suitcase placed in his bedroom, his belly growling slightly.

He makes his way into the centre of the community on foot, the villa close by, to a small plaza with a supermarket, and on his way, eyes from every corner of the street follow him, children gazing in awe like they’ve seen their favourite superhero stripped from a comic book page, and the older folks most wary of his presence, knowing who and what he is, what he represents.

“Boy, come inside!” One mother calls her child, a disdain in her eyes as Nathaniel walks past.

“Blood of Jesus...you don’t bring your trouble here,” An old man mumbles to himself, spitting at the ground, air tense, as Nathaniel enters the supermarket, picking out items of different varieties, smiling some children who follow and hide by the door as they stare at him in fondness, quickly scurried away by another, dressed in uniform, dark blue and neon green, a young man, in his twenties like Nathaniel.

“Investigator Munroe?” The policeman asks, Nathaniel’s eyes still on the items he’s picking up.

“May I help you, officer?”

“Oh, um...Constable Ricketts, sir,” the young police officer introduces himself, saluting, Nathaniel now meets the officer’s gaze, a presence heavy like the wind itself pressed against him, intimidated by the very sight of him, but in awe. “Nice to meet you. Forgive our intrusion on your shopping, sir. We heard of your arrival in town from your office, and well...we were sent to have you escorted”

“Hmm?”

“Another body has been found. A fourth”

“I see”

He’s escorted to their police vehicle, where he meets two others: another male, older, and a young female, both wary of the sight of him as Constable Ricketts kindly offers to take the shopping bag, placing the items in the truck of the truck, Nathaniel seated by him in the back of it.

“Enjoying Negril so far?” Ricketts asks.

“It’s beautiful,” Nathaniel smiles, the young constable bobbing his head, turning again, reluctance in his body language.

“You can actually breathe fire?” He asks another question, his peers both looking into the rear-view mirror, also curious as Nathaniel slowly turns to him.

“I can,” The investigator responds, their curiosity piqued.

Three in the afternoon, the saltwater washes against the stone shore, the taste of salt mistified in the air as police occupy the scene, with bystanders, locals and tourists alike watching from afar as the police truck arrives; Nathaniel arrives on scene. All chatter and investigation halt as those in his way slowly step out of the way, many startled by his presence, one slightly nodding, his lips pressed together, his hands to his belt, as the investigator comes up to the body—an old man, most likely in his seventies, grey and very, lying cold.

“He was found about a couple of hours ago. A witness says they hadn’t seen him since four days ago,” One says, Nathaniel looking up to see a small boat on the water, not too far off from the scene where it seems the victim was tucked away into a small opening underneath the cliff, where he was originally found, then turning his attention to the voice. “Lieutenant Morrison”

“Investigator Munroe,” Nathaniel replies, reaching for a handshake.

“Yes. I am...well familiar with who you are,” The policeman answers, as he looks Nathaniel up and down, the others also watching keenly, some with their hands nearing their firearms.

“Uh-huh,” Nathaniel nods, crouching with his eyes back on the body.

“From what we’ve gathered, he’s a fisherman, and he apparently has been coming here every night since he was a boy. Unfortunately for him, the world is just not the same anymore...what do you think did this, investigator?”

Claw marks on the scalp and face, an eye missing, a chunk of his neck gone, Nathaniel observes, then looks down at the man’s hands, the corpse’s nails dirtied, not just by dirt, but also by what seems to be a black ooze and his knuckles heavily bruised, a sign of struggle. He thinks back to the pictures, and like them, the victim was isolated and picked off somewhere where no one else could see or hear, where no one could intervene, then dragged off to a hiding spot nearby. Smart, Nathaniel thinks, as by keeping them close to where they were killed, whatever killed them lessened the risk of its whereabouts being found out quickly. The night arrives; the community is still very much alive, the soundscape of dancehall creating an atmosphere for drinking and partying. For now, Nathaniel takes his time back to the villa with food he bought off the road, along with the items he picked up earlier.

“How’s it been, soldier?” Alexis asks, over the phone, with a drink in his hand, and a plate of warm food taken to him by another- his wife, who he mouths ‘thank you’ to, and his two children, a boy and a girl, both under ten, laughing as they watch cartoons. “Was the welcoming good?”

“From Miss Pet? Sure. The villa’s nice, nice view of the beach. The lieutenant and his friends, on the other hand...” Nathaniel sighs, shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Nate. It isn’t every day a hotshot investigator like yourself comes strolling through their community”

“Hotshot, huh?” Nathaniel chuckles, passing by some men playing dominoes, loud laughter erupting from them, another set watching Nathaniel closely. “Now that I think about it...they don’t even seem worried that there’s a monster lurking around either, like at all. They’re partying and still out late into the night like nothing’s happening”

“Can’t blame them. No official call for a curfew, no news coverage, just extra patrolling? The police aren’t making it a big deal, so they aren’t either. Plus, it’s been eight years; they’re probably used to the idea of entities lurking about by now”

“Probably...”

“Daddy, is that Uncle Nate?” The daughter walks up to her father, the little brother following behind, Nathaniel smiling as he hears them.

“Yeah, honey, wanna say hi?” Alexis puts the phone to her ear, her little hands wrapped around his hand as she presses it to her ear.

“Hi, Uncle Nate!” She begins to twist her shoulders.

“Hey, Mia. How are you?”

“I got a 100 on my maths test today,” she proudly states, her parents smiling.

“That’s good! How about I buy you whatever you want the next time I visit, hmm?” Nathaniel smiles.

“Yes! I want Skittles!”

“Ah! No more candy, young lady!” The wife states from the kitchen.

“Come on, Jess, a 100 is a big deal here!” Alexis argues.

“No, babe, she has her dentist appointment coming up, remember?”

“You know what...how about I make it a surprise this time around?” Nathaniel suggests.

“Okay...” Mia nods.

“Alright, go finish watching your cartoon with Joshua before bedtime, go on,” Alexis rubs both their heads, taking back the phone. “Alright...what have you found out so far?”

“This thing, whatever it is, it’s smart,” Nathaniel states. “It knows who to pick off, showing enough control to time its attacks and where and how to do it. Where it’s hiding the bodies isn’t too far off from where it killed them either. It’s like it’s making sure we can’t track it any further, covering its tracks in a way”

“Okay. We have something there. What else?”

“It’s extremely weak, weak enough to be killed by a normal human, maybe if cornered by someone with a gun, even. The victim’s nails had a black substance in them, the monster’s blood, I assume, and his knuckles were busted too. He may have tried to fight it off, which means he must have believed he had a chance to”

“Hm! Brave,” Alexis remarks. “Good reasoning. Now, don’t rush it. If it’s smart as you say, then it’ll just need a bit of outsmarting. Remember what I’ve taught you...patience is power”

“Yeah, I have a plan. I just have to see if it’ll take the bait”

“Noted. Alright. For now, get some rest, enjoy the little vacation too while you’re at it, huh? And be careful. Keep me updated”

“Yeah...later,” Nathaniel hangs up, his walk slowing to a halt once again under a streetlight where he stands alone, his eyes turnt to an alleyway he gazes into, pitch-black and silent, the music faded in the distance as the wind howls, bracing against iron that creaks; he cuts his gaze, slowly walking off.

And so, he sets a plan in motion. With recommendations from the investigator, the police start patrolling specific areas along the borders of the community, also suggesting they cut down bushes in certain areas and install lights and cameras; all at the same time, he makes his own adjustments, observing. He follows Alexis’ advice; he continues exploring, being stopped by fans, mostly tourists, being circled by children, also still being watched with eyes of fear and contempt, some nights attending the events of the community, some nights by the villa, drinking by himself, to wake up and meditate the next morning. Almost three weeks go by, and instinctively, as if his presence silently influenced them, kids stop running through certain alleyways, shop owners close a bit earlier than usual, fewer parties, fewer people on the road at night.

And on one of these nights, a man strolls along on his bicycle, the streets quiet for the most part, a bag of items on the side, a feeling like chills ran up his neck, looking to his right to see a large hand reached out for him. He barely dodges, crashing off his ride, a spell of terror on his face, his legs frozen under the weight of his fear, he cannot get up to run, looking up at the deformed atrocity before him, of heavy black fur, red eyes and sharp teeth, hands slightly larger in proportion to the rest of it’s scrawny body, and a smell like death, putrid and sour like roadkill. The man begins to pray, his hand lifted towards the monster that inches closer and closer.

“Father God!!” He screams, the monster swinging its sharp claws, only to meet cold air, its red eyes filled with rage at what now stands between it and its meal, met with cold black ones, as the man’s rescuer, Nathaniel, stood above him like a great titan, a weapon equipped to his right side.

"You!!! Leave me alone!!” The monster roars; Nathaniel is surprised it talks, as it lunges at him with swiftness, its mouth wide open to rip his head off; the investigator simply steps out of the way, evading two more attempts at an attack by its feeble arms.

“Hmm...” Nathaniel studies it, and drawn with his left hand, he pulls his weapon, a curved sword inscribed with a language of the neighbours; he sets himself in a stance, ready to fight, but to his surprise, he relaxes at the sight of the monster, not more enraged or defensive, but now silent, its eyes down to the floor, tears dripping from them.

“K...Kill me,” it mutters, trying to hide its shaking, Nathaniel’s eyes softened; how strange, he thinks, as the streetlight above them flickers, he appears behind it in a blink of an eyes, his sword stretched to the side, the monster goes down without a sound, a clean and merciful death by the hands of the investigator, the man still there, not looking up at Nathaniel as a savior or hero, but as just another monster, the Investigator’s face halfly masked by the darkness as their eyes meet, jolting to his feet to run away as fast as he can, leaving his bicycle behind.

The next morning comes, and it’s a colder one; the police are on the scene of the dead entity they load into a truck, Nathaniel watching as it happens, on the phone with Alexis as he’s pressed against his vehicle, his items packed already, explaining it could speak, an odd occurrence and a rare thing among entities.

“Nate? Still there?” Alexis asks.

“Y-Yeah...something’s just off,” Nathaniel states, shaking his head. “It’s like it gave up, and then it asked me to kill it. It was crying”

“Huh...you don’t hear that every day,” Alexis says, scratching his head. “Hey, why don’t you stay a little longer? The fresh air’s good for you, you know?”

“Nope. I’ve had enough of this place,” He states, then looking over to Constable Ricketts, who salutes him, Nathaniel giving a single nod as he enters his vehicle.

“Alright. Keep safe, soldier. Make sure you bring back some souvenirs too,” Alexis chuckles. “And hey, leaving it no choice but to go further into the community for its next hunt...Good thinking, Nate”

Windows up this time, he drives through the commotion of everyone wanting to see the monster, leaving Negril to see another digital billboard on the outskirts showcasing the merging of both worlds yet again; his mind gone elsewhere, slowing down, deep breaths, as he cruises his way to Montego Bay from just another mission.