Madness

Madness

Illuminated in the baleful light of the wooden moon, my shadow arced across the second patterned floor in deathlike silence. Reaching the old door and twisting its iron tumblers into their locked position, a sigh escaped me into the dark, soundless resting chamber. This slight flirtation with the sound barrier frightened my feline as it scampered off, hidden already from sight, to a more obscured site near my family's heirloom, an old oak bureau. The shocking level of cemetery silence piqued now as my own heart deceived my ears by beating its utter terrors! Dread resounded throughout my rattled mind, shoving ice through many miles of meaty veins.

I shook in sheer horror.

I shuddered to step away from the now-barred door. Immediately, I thought of further barricading it as I crept across the wooden floor toward the heirloom bureau; my weight created a cacophony of unwitting noise on the floorboard. Whatever now resided inside my home tonight heard my most unfortunate commotion! Upon my erring, it released such calamity in the downstairs living room, revealing that I knew that it knew I knew it was there.

It moved.

Frozen went my footsteps at the sheer horror of its bearing as it crept through the emptiness of my modest dwelling. It neared the stairs; I had to retain control of my mind and continued with further barricading the door with the old bureau. As I first moved the bureau, the thing downstairs released a defiant roar as if knowing I intended to beset the terrible abominations' wretched intention. My feline bolted from obscurity to obscurity as the visitor roared again, its sound akin to the lonely lapping sound of tidal waves. As I heaved, the bureau fell into an unnatural setting, landing across the foot of the door.

I froze again with fright! It stepped down upon the first step, and the stairs moaned in a sad twist of impending fracture under the entity's cumbersome weight. And then another, and the other footfall fell.

The rage that pushed through my thawing veins sought out a fear that forever ran alongside it, shadowed in parallel. It found existence in what dark recesses lingered deep inside the subconscious discovery of my mired mind. I fought to keep both at bay when the monster's encroachment landed its tertiary footfall. My heart jumped from its thoracic encasement, fleeing clear to my throat, binding me from releasing a sound that rebirthed through the generated resonance of desperation. As I held one back, quickly, another escaped from its bay.

The fourth footfall!

I shook as fear escaped its vermiculated grave. Its skeleton hand coiled around my spine, rising slowly, unleashing pandemonium inside my tormented mind. I awaited its further discourse.

Its pace upon the stairs increased as if realizing my exact position. It moved with hurried diligence while grunting, revealing its hideously ravenous hunger. Did it seek to feed?

I could no longer control my lost rage as it escaped me, harboring it at bay: fury knows no length in restraint. Upon reaching the second-floor landing, the beast grew quiet; the air inside my resting chamber changed thickly with piqued anticipation.

What in God's name haunts me? I attempted shortly to ponder this through the thick fog of fear; the room trembled with a disembodied growl. Fear coldly pursued victory over my heart, doubling its efforts as my wrath unknowingly fell by the wayside.

I haunt you, it replied, chewing out the words it pushed through its seething jaws.

I spoke none of that aloud!

Knowing it certainly knows me, I do not know what to do. Haste! Make haste!

There is no escape, Jessop. You are home, its terrible voice barked, filling my head with hellish imagery hitherto unseen.

Do you think of Hell?

It mocked me as I knelt near the foot of the bed, tucking around the side opposite the barred door. The moonlit glow illuminating the cross floor held a secret, containing a philosophy of life.

With death now afoot, I threw a moment's glance at my life hitherto: life since I felt akin to carting the cumbersome rood tree to the garden tomb. An observation, to say the least, however, subsequently, should I survive this night, you will not – I shall forever commit to that invariably constant.

The deathly-white lesser light dimmed, passing behind a vast forest encompassing my mired mansion.

Fear fueled my anticipation of the unknown as I rose; it reached the bedroom door.

'We are here now,' it grumbled through clenched teeth; come closer to me!′ it demanded, 'you reek fear-laced, forlorn.' It knows of me, at least superficially, more than I do.

'You're correct in your futile assumptions. I do know you! You are blind in your fleshy discernments. Had you the eyes to see, one might distinguish my presence tonight,' it violently rattled the doorknob. As if it would be that easy, it ceased, further kicking at the lower part of the door. It carried on: ′How am I doing playing the role? Scaring you witless: flaring violence to usher your fear to its surfaced horripilation: scaring your cat; are these morbid machinations working?′

It taunted me now, inside my head. – Par for the course!

It mocked me, as well. – Too tempting a snare!

It plans to – please do continue. I am dying to know – murder me. I'm scrupulously disappointed!

'What is it I fail to see, I within the blind?' Rage accompanied my bounding fear to venture into the question.' The fact that you think I am here to murder you reveals enough to me about you that we need not converse any further; it's time. I am coming through the door!

I felt my spirit push against its earthly tomb in an effort, fruitless of the flight it sought; I chose for it to remain trapped therein.

It's not our best idea!

' Meager attempts of attack are, shall I use your word – OUR name–blind.′

Suddenly, sparks threw light somewhere inside the dank, rotting recesses of my subconscious mind. Perhaps I do know the monster! I waited for it to respond crudely.

- Nothing; deafening cemetery silence.

'Are you still there?' I poised, curiously antagonized.

If you truly knew, then the understanding that I cannot leave would have pardoned that question from passing your damning lips.

Initially, this stemmed from the pure, simple fright of the unknown. Now, leagues hitherto unfathomable, Madness sought sentient autonomy at a cost no longer within my current purview to tolerate; it would be ill of me to distend toward submission.

I can hear its wet suspirations beyond the barred bedroom barrier. Can you feel our hunger? The inevitable lust for the need to feed: to feed on living contrary to life. The meals last longer and are sweeter, bursting their blood across our famished tongues!

Wretched monster! Of what horrors do you speak? Focused fury shifted inside me to dispassionateness that I greedily embraced within my beating, blood-filled bosom.

What horrors WE speak!

We speak; whatever you say is a pure simulacrum, contrary in every way save the form.

Lies! You spread lies, wretched beast! Incoherent fabrications meant to strip me of my inviolacy. I give no quarter to you or your feeble infernal fables!

You will provide more than that, I promise you. We are only moments from us, and your diligence to refute it wanes with the passing bone-white glow of that nightly luminary weeping through the window beyond.

Immediately following its sound emission, it relentlessly rapped at the barred door with thunderous might. The force, which shortly pushed the top of the barrier out of its jamb, threw light from the hallway into my darkened chamber in terrifying, simultaneous flashes. Pounding out its aggression, the upper left-hand section of the door broke and flew quickly across the room, shattering one of two minutely filigreed windows opposite in wept moonlight so thick and warm as I crept through the descending beam.

"Of course, it's warm! Are you alright, Jessop?"

This evening, what fell out of Hell climbed from its abode into my living quarters as if invoked by invitation, ritual, or worse, revenge.

Suddenly, as if luck had passed on by hearing the shattering glass windowpane, someone outside now rapped gently on the front door. Who could it be? And at this hour? Who would dare venture through the forest ignorant of its well-known lore? Myths shall not trifle away!

When I peered at the door where it had recently broken off and flowed, I could see nobody, not by the flesh or shade, as the lantern-lit hallway threw abundant light. I strained hard to listen and see if I could hear or feel the corrupted creature that had beckoned me only moments ago.

And again, nothing.

What if - God, no - What if the creature sought out the late-night transient seeking refuge in my abode this dire eve?

"Woe to thee that cannot be, and leave well enough alone!"

Those words escaped my lips; eagerly, they shared as I have withheld much thus far.

Creeping over to the broken glass window and casting down a quick perception, the living room light thrown from the front door fell long into the grass out in front of it; lightly, I could discern voices, two displaying amity yet one in, out, and in with the other. And what of this creature that invites my fright? The same one, Hell, loosed upon my humble dwelling this night.

How does it not kill the transient that happens by changing places with it to the outside?

Why will this creature not leave me be? It taunts me and tempts me to kill or flee cowardly.

"I must get out of here."

Moving without care to the chamber door, I knelt to clean the mess of the bureau I had made earlier. However, it paid off by keeping that beast at bay! Standing back to its purposeful state, I reloaded the old bureau with the newly unfolded laundry and slid it back to its original static location.

With the passing of the wooden moon's light, the light dimmed my sleeping quarters back to the mesmerizing aura of candlelit light. Nothing seemed to stir except the cruel fear gripping my pounding heart. So, I moved closer to the barrier, barring entry to the hallway.

Leaning towards the door, I turned my ear to listen and extrapolate whatever I could ascertain before heading into danger. The entry is cold, and its old white paint is severely cracked, mainly around the doorknob; all things in time wear their age. As far as ascertaining any movement in the hall, I heard nothing. They slowly sank, freeing the tumblers from their wrenched-on locked position, and the battered door crept open.

Flickering illumination filled the wallpapered hallway clear to the downward stairwell. Thoughts of taking immediate flight and rushing forward without stopping 'til I reached the front door had my heart fleeing its thoracic cage, becoming a still lump in my throat.

"This is driving me mad."

Moving slowly down the lengthy hallway, passing another resting chamber on the left, I could not help but think that those words I just spoke might be my death.

"Is there somebody out there?" a female voice sounded out from my restroom! I did not know if I should respond or say, "Hello!" My steps ceased making progress. "Is somebody playing a trick on me?"

My mind seems to be ripping itself further in two; on the one hand, how dare I act if this trick roasts her when I am the one walking through this Hell! On the other hand, I would be pretty mad to consider that what is haunting her is me. This abode is my abode, and I will be damned if I will hide any longer!

Was I pulling myself free from sidling down the hall and up to the lavatory? I stood outside its door now with growing ferocity at the events that unfolded. I will no longer restrain the monster made in me!

Grabbing the glass doorknob with a death grip that stretched the skin covering my knuckles bone white, I felt the cold old glass crack within my grasp. Turning the knob with a killer's intent, I finally claimed my post in life's little masquerade tonight!

"Wait, please! I am not fully dressed!" cried the female with a sincere tone. However, much to my chagrin, I no longer felt any sentiment for the heathen's behavior in my modest dwelling. It was damn near the time that I caught it unawares and – "What are you doing?" cried out as I released the knob, and the lavatory door swung quietly open.

Good Lord, what have I done!"

Standing in there with a demeanor that shouted violation, rage, and retaliation stood a ghastly wretch in a bloated blue carcass that, at its bottom, spread out in a curtainlike manner. As I moved my eyes to contact hers, her face remained hidden behind the façade of a brown furry sun.

"Get out!" her furry face cried, her arms flailing like vicious tentacles crashing into the décor of my once exquisite bathroom; the vanity, its mirror, etc., all smashed. She dropped to all fours, writhing as if undergoing abnormal growth in her rage.

I persevered and stepped inside the threshold, separating the hallway from the bathroom. Upon doing this, the lady in the restroom, her head whipped upward, staring directly back at me! I might know the lady becoming the beast for a moment.

Her head dreadfully twisted and jerked, much to the hideous din of bones popping or breaking. Her gaze met mine as her fit peaked, and I stood in awe at this hellish distraction. Her sky-blue eyes grew with anticipation as she released a godawful scream; her body grew, as did the hair on her face! It spread out its four cardinal points; peaks of stretched fur that further accentuated the furry sun's shine unfurled like chaos and wrapped itself back around her striated, bulbous mass.

Keeping what little courage this has yet to strip from me, I backed up, crossing the threshold into the hallway again. Without hesitation, the bathroom barrier slammed brutally shut, crushing the door it struck, which was stuck well within its jamb. The wood splintered under the force as a bit flecked off and at me. I leaped back to the opposite wall and crept towards the descending stairwell. The last time I left her, she roared still.

I am approaching the stairwell, bent slightly towards the east, making the full sight of the landing at the bottom impossible without descent. God, not a thing stands in my favor tonight!

Crashing filled the dark dimensions behind me as I reached the double doors leading downstairs; I left one open the last time I was here. Lending an ear to the shut doors, I strained to hear the one that entered the beast's stead. I could at first hear nothing; however, this evening proved that that meant almost nothing. Opening the one door and moving into the stairwell, I shut the door behind me and began my descent.

An hour had passed since the terror of the evening started to unfold.

I was yawning while attentive to the noise I would make, pushing step after step with bated breath. Slowly, sounds began filling my ears. It sounds like a great cry inside the tumult of another rhythmic beating. This beating, quite akin to the house, has its own heart.

Reaching the doors at the bottom of the stairs, I crack them open enough to see what unfolded in my living quarters that night. The light fell in the slit and watered my peering eye, but I refrained from blinking. With blurred vision, I gleaned what I might. The floor in my living quarters roared with life, and those trampling on could not have been more dead, ornamented in cute and crooked costumes.

What appeared to me on sight as dreadful and dolorous behavior could easily be misconstrued as amity and happiness. Without tears to accompany their otherwise apparent miseries, it was far more difficult to ascertain the herd hive's demeanor. So, I stayed posted and watched for a few moments longer.

And what sights did I see?

As above, crashing came falling, so below did it in the simulacrum. What have I done to unleash such pandemonium in my dwelling tonight? What cursed events have the Fates beset against me?

The dead danced in my house this eve and frolicked, drinking what looked like blood. Their faces turned upside down; they somnambulated in ignorance, intoxicated, as Hell gained ground. While swaying to the tumult that shook both floors, a knock again rapped at the living room door. It ceased the herd in their dance as if, this time by luck, what just occurred should not have taken place. That rapping fell inside once more. Singling out one of their own, they isolated the fellow by forcing him from the group.

Again, it rapped with a bit more intent.

The well-dressed fellow, clad in purple, passed me by unnoticed and went for the door with great hesitation. Reaching for the doorknob, the herd gasped and fled deeper into my abode, exhaling in a strained hush. He twisted the knob and opened the heavy door; distantly shuffling and whispering crept out from the dark heart of my place.

"No," the moon-headed man responded cautiously, his purple attire shining inside the door light. You are certainly welcome to wait, should you choose."

How do the uninvited dead invite more dead to any other place than another grave?

The door opened more expansively, and the moon-headed man clad in royal purple stepped aside. Before it crossed the threshold and entered my house, I quickly shut one stairwell door and opened the other for another view—a better idea of the stranger.

The herd shuffled back into my living quarters, keeping a tightly-knit group. Every awkward mask gawked at the open front door as if their faces, frozen with terror at first seeing who had now returned, struggled to emote once more without realizing their fundamental paradox.

Dead is dead. Yet tonight, without cause or effect, they gathered here to celebrate God knows what. A motley band in merriment or sorrow, reckoning a holiday and night in the land of the living! If I did not know better, I would say I brought this on myself!

"You did, Jessop. We did!"

I immediately took flight and returned upstairs, where I have always felt safe. However, I felt the least secure I had ever been that night. They howled, danced, imbibed, extended libations, and fornicated spiritually (witnessed), all relentlessly and without respite.

"You still do not understand, do you, Jessop? You still do not get it?"

"Still do not get what?" I responded like a fool. Now I am talking to myself, I think.

"What brought us here?"

"Hell?" I responded mockingly.

"Oh, that again?"

"Have you seen their faces?" I retorted puzzlingly.

"And you would have it no other way!"

"I rather would," I again responded, acting like a fool!

"We await you."

It walked off this time; I will not fall for this ploy to lure me out. I will act the fool, no more!

Sounding out behind me in a concert of noise at an inhuman level, the lady, last I saw, transformed into a raving wildebeest bulging at its seams; she had trashed the lavatory to its utter destruction. Jamming shut the door into its jamb. I last left it, her, and to whatever, she succumbed. By its sounds, she endured the most minor pain and ire.

Atop the upstairs landing, it watched back toward the lavatory for any sign of her-its escape. At least she is not whispering guilt and lies inside my tormented head.

"She has done this to you more than I could withstand."

"As I have just stated, lies ergo guilt. What would you know of the lady, or it, anyway?"

"I know everything that is happening tonight. From the terrifying start to its ultimate finale."

Its words were provocative; they moved me to rage in a moment, mocking with its know-how to tantalize and criticize me as if it were a friend or family.

Her pain and ire must have subsided; her cries had fallen silent, as did the thrashing of my lavatory. I hesitated to move back in that direction, but not for long. I must return to my resting chamber to find and draw out my feline friend, Irenaeus! No longer more thoughts; move!

When I reached my sleeping chamber, it held a residue from the earlier events that made it feel haunted; the air was electric with memory, and a chill crept up my spine.

Without thinking, much beyond movement anyway, I left the resting room door open, and my friendly feline fled the safety of its darkened dwellings. For whatever its cause, it ran directly for the resting chambers coupled with the thrashed lavatory, and, without my realizing the door was ajar, Irenaeus tucked her ears back and squeezed her face into the jamb. The barrier blocking this guest bedroom opened gently, and Irenaeus vanished into the darkness.

"You should enter and seek her out."

Hello, Madness.

"You should enter to seek what her curiosity sought, Jessop."

I crept back out into the hall. The wall-lit sconces flickered in the low firelight, and shadows capered on the long walls in the absence of light.

"Jessop."

Madness?

"Enter. Now."

Standing outside the otherwise empty room, I reached out my arm and index finger, nudging the door to swing open. "Irenaeus?" I called. "Here, little lady," I suggested in the darkness, blanketing the room.

Half a step forward, I peered into the darkness as a meow sounded out from what appeared to be the other side of the room. Feeling on my person for a pack of matches, I carried a box with three matchsticks remaining.

"Your twilit routine: light the upstairs first before the downstairs. Downstairs holds your only safe exit if reality fails you."

It is not the reality that fails us; it is our minds.

"That difference being what, Jessop?"

…

"The room, Jessop. Someone awaits you."

Striking the first of the three matches, I entered the guest room and lit the lantern on the shelf above the dresser. The thrown light doubled as cries sounded from the looming three-D space behind me. Before I turned to witness this oddity, Irenaeus started purring. Grabbing the lantern, I turned left, and the light arced around.

Sitting in a decades-old red dress, a ghost appeared; she wept into her hands, hiding her face from sight. Her image seemed familiar and felt familiar: a lost friend or a family member? Maybe it is merely a residual playback, a haunting ignorance of all things save its linear recurrences time and again.

Her cries began to form words. Her utterances pushed my taxed mental faculties to wit's end; "Help me … oh, God, no. Please, somebody, help me." It went only a few moments when Irenaeus leaped onto the bed, walked over to the apparition before me, and meowed at her. Even more surprising to me than that was that this apparition responded to Irenaeus! It was almost as if the two knew each other as if they were familiars.'

Turning to respond to my cat, she spun to her left; unfortunately, the only direction facing away from me. Still, she wept as the air of familiarity sank deeper and deeper; from my mind, it fell clear to my heart. Is this an illusion? – My beloved wife!

"It was – is! – Jessop."

This was the first time that Madness did not feel threatened.

"I should not."

I looked away from her to offer more attention to the ruse in play.

"Ruse, you say?"

If she is my bride, then she is not dead; prevaricator! Your lies are as much afoot as your hideous physical form! Leave me, my thoughts, my house, and my memories! You've no right to exploit any of these!

"What if I told you that you asked for it?"

My blood ran cold at the torturous voice, correlating to a clue I had already begun developing. Or is it playing off what it already knew I knew? This effort to remain both aware and cognitive as the world goes sour is one more effort I care to participate in.

"Can you hear that, Jessop?"

I knew that I could. "You know that I can!"

"You asked for this," it reminded me, twisting my thoughts into purgatory.

I moved back towards the dresser by the door. I entered and remained fixed, looking at its transparent reflection interacting with my cat. The ghost treated it kindly and in a way that Irenaeus reciprocated lovingly.

"Irenaeus," I called out. "Come here, my dear. Irenaeus?"

She spun and turned again, brushing her scent against the ethereal entity on the guest bed.

She stopped petting Irenaeus, keeping her back facing my low-lit level of the illuminated area; the darkness inside the room swelled twofold. Irenaeus slowly stopped purring, walked towards the bed's foot, and hopped down. I watched her exit the room and turn to the right, back towards my resting chamber; I could not help but think that was not a bad idea. However, I did not follow my gut and held fast to my post.

She now faced me, looking back at her, still sitting on the bed. She was now a silhouette outlined in a penumbral view, her shoulders slightly heaving as if breathing deeper. This view is unsettling. I crept lightly towards the door while she watched on. Reaching the doorway, it slammed shut directly before me, sealing me in with her.

The lantern light flickered as a latent instinct kicked in somewhere inside me and sent my heart racing. If my mind does not end first, I swear that my life will before this Godforsaken night ends!

Rolling a tapping of her finger atop the gray comforter covering my guest bed, she applied what little weight was contrary to the pushing off the couch to resume her upright posture. There wafted an air of jasmine as she stood and moved towards me; I could not be sure enough to scream or flee, so I froze.

A second's breadth away from me, she stopped dead – again – in her tracks at the terrible sound of what could be presumably the hideous beast residing in the lavatory. The structural wood inside the wall separating these two rooms swelled its convexity toward us: its whine, a cacophonous whaling horror!

As the strained wood flexed to crack, the wall blasted inward, heaving everything in its wake to the left side of the room. The beast broke two windows in its calamitous movements, and cold night air swept in, spreading the dusty maelstrom further.

Muted light fighting in from the lavatory flickered in and out as the fur-covered beast slid inside the hole, birthed in curiosity. Much to my chagrin, the noise it made moving here remains indescribable.

Struck with horror, more than the previous fear, only moments old, it turned its gaze toward her. It focused its attention on my wife. Good God, I know not which way to turn for fear of my body further denying any movement, but I must try to help her!

"It hears you, Jessop."

"What does it want?" I pleaded, as this night had already formed an eve dawning over my extended cognition; I could no longer think straight to save my life! I ask you again, Tormentor! What does she want?"

"Watch now, Jessop. All of this is for you."

Horror tonight stood out as I watched it redefine its context through the age-old interpretation of the consummation of flesh. Imbibing what looked to be blood, with a distinct possibility that there is always the chance it could be spirits in the awkward slip error.

Creeping closer and closer to the apparition of my wife, who was standing there watching it near her position, awaiting it like a loving mother, I witnessed her shed a tear in a flash of the lavatory lights weeping through the dust.

Both larger and taller than the apparition of my bride, the sun-shaped head of this monstrosity stretched and contorted, writhing with rage. It slowed its vile contortions and brought its hellish face bearing down on her with a fire burning in its eyes. Contrasting its angry white eyes, the fur around each orb glowed black. The wretched abomination reached out for her slowly, as if contemplating its actions moment by moment.

It gripped hold of her!

"Keep your wits about you, Jessop. Pay your attention to the beast!"

It hoisted her into the air in front of it; it postured, bringing her face to its face. Grotesque in all its fur and fury, the sun-faced demon tilted my bride headfirst and opened its flaring jaws in an act that no other should ever bear witness to. It opened its mandible to the degree that it must have dislocated to expand enough to force in the apparition in a silence I had never witnessed before. And then it began chewing.

Amid the brown furry beast eating inside my guest bedroom, I watched sheer hysteria as the furry-faced sun tossed its jaw side. Masticating the apparition that once was my bride, Evelyn, each time its godlike mouth opened while consuming, it threw light, filling the darkened room in blinding flashes.

Its fiery eyes burned back into whatever darkness filled the room between the flashes. My hand was upon the inside doorknob, and its gaze found me by the entry. Its rotund girth as it moved heaved the bed quickly out of its path; the sound it made in its movements scraped the wooden floor to splintering planks, and the room filled with the smell of decaying flesh. It bore down on my position as I turned the knob and, half-turning, opened the door and escaped the room shutting the door behind me. I quickly moved to the wall across the hall, looking both up and down it for any more surprises, to no avail. However, before I could catch my breath, the guest room door swelled its convexity outward, and before I knew it -

"It hears you, Jessop. Remember this."

"Torturer! Leave me to my thoughts!"

"If she escapes, consuming you, this will all be over before you know it. Heed my words, Jessop!"

The door buckled in length. Splintering bits flew fast all around me, some of them leaving lesions upon my hands. Closing my eyes, I felt their form upon my face. Opening my eyes once more, I witnessed the door fall into pieces; some of the debris slid down and around the decaying body of the thing, leaving the guestroom.

"We are here, Jessop. We are coming up."

The end is nigh. To new beginnings come many old ones, and I have yet to fall unthinkingly into Madness. Even the aid of those who came, those who left – mortal coil and purgatory – to higher realms or lower dimensions soars to stoop all spirit.

The evil best in those descended to ascend, and the good who have ascended to have that ascension end met tonight on the median.

"The middle, you say?"

"I do," I replied vocally.

Torn between reality, illusion, and mired guilt stemming from the byproduct of fear, I do say, you demon.

"Oh, that again; Hell, and its eternal resident seeking companionship in the frailty of the flesh? Come on, Jessop. I am no demon! You know I am greater than that!"

Somewhere downstairs, my late grandfather's clock chimed the small hour: one a.m.. Only the beginning of what remained the longest night, and even something as trivial as the clock's chime leaves its stark reminder of isolation.

"You're never alone, Jessop."

The sun-faced furry demon pushed and pulled itself through the doorway, cracking the casing on its sides. It tightened shut its eyes and roared as it ripped itself free, crossing the threshold; the sound it released shook the house to its foundation, distorting any thought process, causing my hesitation to flee to cease.

I ran.

"You took flight."

My resting chamber: the air still held its awkward energy from earlier events. When this whole damned fiasco unleashed its pandemonium, I must humbly admit my mindset was that of the unconscious, stemming from an accomplished pigeon-eyed demeanor. Only moments after I woke up to Irenaeus jumping up on the bed, the voice became relentless, and rhetorical rantings ushered my cognition into overdrive. I now fear the last thing I will find here is any further respite.

"We've reached the second floor, Jessop. Come into the hallway, as all shall now reveal ourselves to you."

Temptation, a wonderfully mad enticement! What a party we could have on that single facet alone! What a glorious feast!

Come out into the hallway, Jessop. We await you. Your bride awaits you."

"Prevaricating! She must have been a sweetened feast for that sun-headed beast you brought tonight! Prevaricator!

"Evasive? Yes. Cryptic? Cryptic serves more than the point. Shall we not forget what brought us here, Jessop? These displays all have ensued for you."

I could hear the floor out in the hallway creak under their weight. The meandering, motley dead still are far from the stairtop landing.

Are you all threatened by the sun-faced demon you let loose in my house tonight? Why did the slow walk capture me?

A gust of wind pushed through the broken window and extinguished the flames in the wall sconces, leaving only one lantern lit in the chamber.

"As I mentioned, meet us out in the corridor, Jessop. Seeing will make it easier for you to discern true reality from this, our derided illusion. Come and get acquainted with us."

Sidling right next to the door, I heard their footsteps cease from their approach. Struggling for any last vestige of courage I may have left inside, I moved as if possessed by an iota of the ill that currently haunts my house.

We, as in those dead that danced in my living quarters, hellbent on sinful despair, blasphemous oblation through abominable libation? They feared your second coming when you rapped it on the front door. What of that, greater-than-demon?

"Jessop, we all have a role to play tonight. Isn't life ornamented and placed upon its stage accordingly? According to whichever manual we choose, is it not a record of events written in the flesh? Experienced in it, as well as indulged? Are not these mechanisms to be exploited to enhance our pursuits of truth? I ask you, Jessop, are you interested in the pursuit of truth, in knowing the totality of your Madness called for by your voice and sealed in writing by your hand? What of those realities you endured that your drunken mind cannot recall; are those truths or fabrications, Jessop?

If what you say about roles is true, then I would be curious to know if this is not just some act. Some sick ruse? Subterfuge by almost any means to what end?

They came back to me with no response to my inquiry. The upstairs now held a silence beyond the pale.

I opened the resting chamber door and peeked my head into the hallway. Standing midway up the corridor, blocking all passage by the stairwell downstairs, stood the hellish herd that haunted me and hunted me. Due to the lack of light, many were bent in odd-shaped silhouettes and remained quiet; the only one quite evident enough to point out was the hideous sun-headed beast. Grabbing the last lantern inside my resting chamber, I move out into the corridor, closing its door. God, help me!

A costumed man about six feet six came out of the looming darkness ahead, dressed in a black tuxedo trimmed and lined in bright blood. The mask he wore, wicked in its design, bore the face of a devil; the static smile carved into it portrayed a cunning satisfaction as if still reeling from the ecstasy preceding its downfall from grace. Walking confidently right up into the lantern light, he spoke in a familiar voice, crushing the silence. "Nice to finally meet you in your flesh, Jessop." The mask was no mask; it moved with his vociferations.

What lies in wait henceforth? Is this the hour of my death, the end of it all?

"As I mentioned earlier," the devil spoke smooth and sure, "I was not and am not here to kill you tonight." I no longer believed in much after the amount of torment thrust upon me this evening. I would play the fool again if I submitted myself to it any longer.

"Do your worst."

The sun-headed beast's eyes shone like two furious torches in the drab hallway lighting. White raging flames witnessed my every move. The creature squinted in rage at my statement and, quicker than earlier seen, approached my position with ravenous steadiness. It did not halt its approach until the devil commanded it with a gesture from his risen right hand.

"You know, as do I, that she is to feast upon your corpse tonight, here in these small hours. Your consummation of love in life has her having already eaten much of yours hitherto. You do see this, right?"

I could hear the sun-headed beast's entrails growl, anticipating its killing and consuming me. It was a hideous moment to behold; the thought of it doing to me what it did to my Evelyn, so I stepped back slowly away from the devil and moved closer to my resting chamber. This retreat displeased him greatly.

"Jessop. I will not let this play out any longer. Run to the room and find your hiding place. This charade ends now!"

I ran to my resting room door, threw it open, and, once inside, slammed shut the door, splitting more of what remained. I again slung over the family bureau, blocking the lower section of the door. I sought a hiding place and heard them moving towards the bedroom door. Once they reached what remained of the barrier blocking their entrance, I hid between a hutch buffet and a winged-back chair, awaiting whatever may come.

It was not long before the sun-headed beast, in all its might, destroyed the door's remnants and yanked its gargantuan girth into my resting chamber. I followed closely behind; I shuffled in the rest of the dead that filled my house tonight. Tightening up into a secure position, drawing as close to the wall as possible, I sat, gripping my legs with all the strength that I had remaining. The beast thrashed at my bed, flipping it up and out of the way, taking its place in its stead as the devil once more approached. He moved slowly and confidently as if the surety of the end finally fit into position.

Reaching where I hid, he knelt, employing some unseen force to move whatever furniture blocked me from his path. Peering at me with dead eyes in disguise, he rubbed at the goatee on his chin and began laughing.

"You know how this ends. No more surprises are waiting for you, Jessop. You only have to agree to give up what you claimed to have already given away once, and we all know you lied!"

Give up what, my soul? How cliché! The age-old tale of the devil seeking to devour men's souls until the oncoming days of Judgment. Should there be any truth to this theology, then tell me why I should agree to coercion with the devil when my indestructible soul is apparently up for grabs?

He tightened the slits in his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was setting one knee on the floor directly in front of his left hand and leaned forward, coming fully into view.

"I'll ask you again to agree to give up your ghost to me, and I guarantee you the fastest trip off this cold, hard stone with as little pain as possible. Waste time and squander my offer, and you'll never know death. Neither you nor your bride."

The rest of the dead moved toward us, filling in all the space behind him. He sat quietly, awaiting my response as the silence grew deafening; Evelyn was the only thing crossing my mind.

"She's dead. Evelyn is dead."

"Maybe she is dead and does not have to stay that way." His offer slowly found its way into my consideration. Somehow, unseen to me in all my observations, I did not notice the moment his charisma turned me against myself. Perhaps my love for Evelyn roused it awake; I might never know.

"I can give you what you want, an end to this malarkey, an end to all of this uproar, as you called it, and all you have to do is agree to give up your ghost, freeing it to me. Your answer now!"

After considering the events that have transpired thus far and the incredible loss I suffered at the death of Evelyn, I finally decided that his offer is about as good as life gets from here on out.

"Free yourself from the weight of wearing that sinful skin, Jessop, and donning masks to hide your true self. The collective herd needs to be told when and how to think. We whisper them into proclivities of a debasing nature; we nudge you all into destroying your lives only to hide from ever submitting to truth and rebuilding the loss. Humans no longer care about salvation and welcome the masks! Remove yours and free your burdens!"

The room grew smaller as they crammed closer and closer for my final moment on this mortal coil. Mere moments as soon as the devil crept closer now, practically upon my lap, he looked at length into my eyes.

"Are you ready, Jessop? Are you prepared to see what awaits you in Revelation?"

Without so much as a bat of an eye, the devil cautiously approached my face, his blood-red claws twitching with phantasmal excitement. Some of the oddities grouped behind him had their hands covering their twisted mouths; otherwise, they were excited by what would follow the devil's reveal. The anticipation grew, and I even wondered what might follow.

Grabbing hold of my throat, I shut my eyes, and his grip slowly tightened to almost cutting off air to my trachea. Furthermore, he tugged and pulled at something around my shoulders, neck, and head. My heart rate increased, and my palms began sweating as the jerking increased. Mere moments passed; I took a deep breath and finally ceased breathing.

By the time I returned to consciousness, I had been placed on my bed. Surrounding me, dressed in full attire for a clandestine masquerade! Looking around at all the curious and caring faces, my friend Nickolas, dressed in a tuxedo trimmed and lined in bright bloodred, walked into the resting chamber and directly over to me. Ushering terror into my veins, he wore a mask duplicating that devil's face. Realizing his mask's effectiveness, he quickly threw it off and assured me all was well.

After filling everyone in on my interpretation of the events in my house this evening, they could not believe their ears! What I told them had occurred was as vivid as life itself. No matter the assurances, the proofs, and the like, I will always be under the suspicion that nothing short of Madness happened here tonight.