Sunday, 19 November 2023

 SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT

by Michelle


For Ryan.

※※※※※

His feet were noiselessly leaving footprints in the freshly fallen snow covering Central Park. Wrapped in a long black coat reaching down almost to his ankles, with a dark grey scarf, seemingly protecting his neck and face from the bitter cold, and his favourite black fedora hat, his silhouette would be doing anything but blending with the environment around him. And yet, nobody could see him. Not even the frost-bitten red-nosed young man still stubbornly standing at one of the benches, waiting for the girl of his dreams, who was very late.

It was Christmas Eve, and he had been strolling New York’s most beloved park since early morning. Now, dusk was setting over it.

He remembered walking past a playground earlier that day. Children were playing in the snow, not minding the chill creeping into their bones. Their joyful cheers accompanied their snowball fights, snowmen-building and making of snow angels.

It was truly some contrast watching most of their parents standing nearby, stepping from one foot to another, holding a cup of takeaway coffee, warming their gloved hands. Not a few were more than eager to leave for their warm homes to enjoy the Christmas cheer in front of the TV, watching a special episode of their favourite show.

How much and how long does it really take to grow up to this? To lose the innocence of embracing the enjoyment of simple things, albeit seen as childish sometimes? When do we stop looking up into the trees and watching birds take the flight to freedom in the sky and start focusing on our credit cards, bank accounts, mounting bills, exhausting working hours, deadlines, all our failures, and all unfulfilled dreams?

Passing the beautifully carved and painted carousel, the man in the fedora hat thought how much his three children would love to have a ride on it. He would join them, laugh and sing Charlie Chaplin’s Smile from the top of his lungs.

That thought made him smile, and suddenly he noticed that the sun had already set on the snow-covered park. The light from the lamps lining the pathways made it glitter like silver. The man was all alone now, with not a soul around. Everyone was surely enjoying a cup of something hot in the comfort of their homes by now.

He looked up at the moon that had appeared in the dark sky. It had been a cloudless day, so there, away from the brightest lights of New York City, he could see the stars almost clearly. Smiling again, his doe eyes sparkled when he remembered that his ‘friend’ would be out there soon. He never missed a chance to see Orion in its shining glory, wandering over the winter sky.

And true to his habit, there ‘the friend’ was, standing in the moonlight at the entrance to the drainage tunnel. Veiled in a long dark cloak, only a few silver and gold strands of his hair and the twinkling eyes were clearly visible from under his wide hood.

After making sure no one was around, Vincent leaned against the tunnel wall and looked up at the stars. His imposing figure had barely changed with the passing years. He may have lost some of his speed and strength, but never his grace and that special something which created an almost otherworldly aura around him - veiled or unveiled.

The man in the fedora hat smiled, observing Vincent from a distance behind a tree, and suddenly, he felt a great urge to approach him. His life-long craving for simple, unconditional social contact hadn’t left him even after…. Well, even at that moment.

And so, his feet acted before his mind and soon enough, he found himself only a few feet away from Vincent.
“May I join you?” he said with a very soft, high-set voice.

Vincent jerked towards the sound and saw a slim but not small figure of a man in black, standing almost right beside him. The strange thing was, the man was smiling at him and apart from his dear Catherine, Vincent couldn’t remember ever having seen a warmer and more beautiful smile.

“Please...” he nodded quietly, still shocked and couldn’t take his eyes off his unexpected companion.
How is it possible I haven’t sensed him? 

“I love watching the stars as well.The man’s beautiful, dark eyes twinkled, and the smile of an excited child appeared on his face.
“I rarely get the chance these days, though” he added with a hint of melancholy in his voice.

It was difficult to guess his age, but his doe-eyed gaze and pale complexion made him look like an angel in Vincent’s eyes. He never thought of angels wearing black coats and fedora hats, though. Suddenly he felt a cold shiver pass through him and he tilted his head.
I’ve felt like this before...

Before Vincent could elaborate more on that thought, the man next to him giggled and covered his mouth briefly when doing so.
Sorry, I forgot I shouldn’t be so close to anyone. I’m still new in this, he apologised and stepped a little away from the leonine man. 
Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and he had an even stronger feeling that his suspicion was not an unfounded one.

Actually, I was never easy with approaching people who I didn’t know, the man continued. “Apart from those who I knew truly respected and loved me.” His words faded into a thoughtful look. Mostly, everybody tried to approach me... But now, it doesn’t matter anymore.

Then he turned to Vincent, and as if a light was switched on his face, he smiled at him and extended his hand to the majestic figure regarding him with piqued interest.
“I’m sorry, I forgot about my manners. I’m Michael.

His smile warmed Vincent’s heart instantly. In a way, he still couldn’t believe a stranger would talk to him as if he was any regular man Above and not be frightened by his appearance, especially as his face was in perfect moonlight by now.

Vincent,” he added quietly, accepting the offered hand with slight hesitation. It was as pale as the man’s face, large, soft, gentle and… cold.
“The conqueror. How fitting,” Michael added in thought and his perfectly-shaped eyes were smiling. “But please, don’t let me interrupt you. You came to look at Orion.”
“How---” Vincent tried to comprehend.
“Oh, I’ve seen you every night here in the past week,” his companion explained cheerfully.
“But I haven’t seen you,” Vincent countered, bewildered. This was his park, and he never missed anyone’s presence while roaming it every night. His extremely sharp senses never allowed it, even with his passing age.
“Nobody can,” Michael replied softly, and a sad smile settled on his porcelain-white face. “But that’s all right. Those who love me can always feel me in their heart, and I’ll always be with them. We shall sing under the moon and dance among the night’s stars together, forever…”

Vincent studied the other man’s features in the moonlight; the man’s words confused him. Somehow, the face seemed familiar to him. Michael’s warm eyes were taking in the peace and shimmering beauty ahead of them. His mind seemed to have been miles away, though.

“I have a feeling I know you,” the leonine man whispered, wondering.
“Yeah, I get that a lot, or something similar,” his companion giggled, genuinely amused. “Well, I used to… Anyway, it doesn’t really matter.” He turned to Vincent again. “I’m so happy that I can talk to you! I’ve been watching you for days, even saw you with your gorgeous lady once.”

The childlike enthusiasm of the man next to him was contagious, and Vincent found himself under the spell of his, in many ways mysterious, companion. His instinct was telling him to be careful, especially at the mention of his wife, but his heart was telling him that he could trust this man.

“Catherine,” his gravelly baritone revealed his lady’s name. “My… wife.” He hesitated because he wasn’t sure Michael would actually believe him. How could he, a creature of the night, with a face unseen and unheard of, have the extreme luck of sharing life with someone so beautiful?

The man in the fedora hat smiled widely. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said, his voice charged with emotions. “My mother’s name is Katherine. She’s the most beautiful soul I have ever known.”
Vincent smiled, noticing the tenderness in the other man’s eyes. His own heart revelled in the name, and when he spoke, his voice filled with deep affection.
“For me, that name carries light… and hope. It has been my only torch in most of the darkest times of my life… Since Catherine entered my life 22 years ago, she has given a new meaning to everything in my eyes. Even Christmas.”

Michael’s eyes wandered into the glittering distance.
“Christmas is for dark times, dark places. It’s the symbol of new light breaking through and pushing away the darkness from around us and within us. It’s a time for finding our inner child again and not being afraid to follow it,” he spoke softly. “For most of my life, I wasn’t allowed to celebrate the holidays. And then, when I grew up and thanks to one of my dearest friends I finally did, it was as if I discovered a new planet and landed on it… “ His eyes were alight with delight. “Magic… Like Wendy flying over Neverland for the first time…”

Vincent observed his companion in curious silence, and then he smiled.
“My first memory of Christmas… I was barely three years old and mesmerised when I saw the Christmas tree for the first time. It was decorated with a sea of candles, their dancing light casting magical shadows on the walls… Not even Captain Hook could destroy the feeling of elation and wonder,” he said knowingly.
Michael shook his head with a melancholic smile. “No… Death himself can’t do that…”

Vincent shuddered all at once; the cold chill ran down his spine again. Abruptly, as if he awakened from a dream, Michael turned to the lion-man with a cheerful voice.
“Do you have any children?” he asked keenly.
“Yes,” Vincent replied proudly, albeit slightly confused by the physical effect the man in black had on him. “Two sons; they are nineteen and seventeen.”
“That’s great!” Michael replied enthusiastically. “I bet you used to read them a lot. You seem like someone who does that. Books don’t only open our eyes to new horizons, but they also offer great comfort to troubled souls.”
Vincent smiled as he lowered his eyes. “I did, yes. In fact, I still do sometimes.” He chuckled. “It’s our family tradition, in a way. Once a month, all four of us sit down together, and one of us reads something to the others.”

His companion gasped. “Oh, that’s wonderful! My children love being read to, especially my little girl.” His eyes glistened in the moonlight. “That’s before she starts singing and goes on forever,” he giggled. “Not even Peter Pan can stop her; but the boys love it too.
Vincent chuckled, reminded of a fond memory.
”Jacob… my older son dressed up as Peter Pan for Halloween one year. It was his favourite book when he was little.”
Michael’s face lit up. “I adore that book! I’ve always felt close to Peter.” He spread his arms wide, looking up to the dark sky. “Have you ever wished you could fly? To soar high up, over the cities, valleys and hills… be totally free so you could go wherever and whenever you wanted?”
Vincent’s smile faded a little. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Many times.”

Michael looked back at his companion, suddenly realising the cause of his companion’s melancholy. He gently put his hand on the lion-man’s shoulder. “We don’t always need wings to fly, right? Sometimes all we need is someone we love.”
The smile on the mysterious stranger’s face and the compassion in his eyes cheered Vincent up. “I guess I got my wings many winters ago then,” he said, smiling now as well.

"You just think lovely wonderful thoughts... and they lift you up in the air," (1) Michael quoted cheerfully.
"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go,"
(2) Vincent added, tilting his head, making them chuckle.

Both men looked ahead for a moment, their eyes admiring the snow blanket glittering in the warming light of the street lamps. Despite the freezing temperature, Vincent felt pleasantly warm inside. Suddenly something stirred lightly in his heart, and he turned his head toward the tunnel entrance.

"I guess that’s my cue,” Michael broke the silence and smiled when Vincent looked at him, puzzled. “If I’m not wrong, your Catherine is missing you.”
“You don’t have to leave,” his companion said. “It would be my pleasure to introduce you to her.”
The man in the fedora hat bowed his head and spoke quietly. “I’m sure it would be mine to get to know her…” He lifted his head, smiling again. “But there’s somewhere else I have to be right now,” he added.
“Of course, your children,” Vincent suddenly remembered and smiled knowingly.
Michael nodded, but his expression beheld melancholy, taking away the sparkle from his dark eyes.
”It’s their first Christmas since…” his voice faded. “I just don’t want to miss them before I have to leave.”

Vincent knitted his thick eyebrows, but his unasked question remained hanging in the air. He didn’t need to ask it; his heart was telling him that some things don’t need an explanation. The sound of approaching footsteps coming from the tunnel interrupted his pondering.

”It was lovely talking to you… Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you and your whole family.” Michael outstretched his hand toward the leonine man, who accepted it gladly - it was still cold.
“And you…,” Vincent replied with a slightly hesitant smile as his companion turned on his heel and left the Tunnel leader’s side.

The crunching sound of footsteps behind him made Vincent turn around swiftly.
”I’m sorry it took so long,” Catherine said, trying to catch her breath after rushing to meet her husband at their agreed spot. “The kids in the nursery just wouldn’t go to sleep; they’re so excited about tomorrow!” she laughed.
“It’s all right, Catherine. You didn’t need to hurry,” he remarked, embracing her shoulders and gently kissing her forehead. “In fact, I was not alone.”

He turned around and saw the dark figure in the hat in the distance, walking into the moonlight covering the park.
“There he is,” Vincent pointed in Michael’s direction. “I’ve made a new friend tonight.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes, searching the space he pointed at. Her face was one of puzzlement.
”Who is there?” she asked gently. “I can’t see anyone…”
His half-smile faded as he looked at his wife. The confusion in her eyes confirmed his suspicion.

"Where has he gone?" Catherine inquired with interest.
"I guess second star to the right and straight on 'til morning...,"
(3) he whispered with a smile and looked away again, staring into the distance.
"Vincent?" she prompted him, putting her small hand gently on his chest.

And then they heard it - a quiet but clear bell-tapping echoing in the distance. Catherine searched her husband's deep blue eyes and knitted her brows, although an incredulous smile brightened her face.

“I guess an angel has earned his wings tonight,” Vincent stated as the melancholy he felt just a few minutes before turned into something much more positive - hope.
“Come,” he said, turning them back to the tunnel entrance again. “It’s getting cold. I think I would like a nice cup of tea and a good book.”
”Which one do you have in mind?” Catherine asked, smiling as they walked into the tunnel.
Vincent briefly stopped and looked at her with a sudden childlike excitement.
”I think I’d like to visit Peter Pan tonight…”

And by the time they enjoyed the warmth and comfort of their bed, drifting away to Neverland, a new star appeared in the night sky on that Christmas Eve - one which shone brightly on all those who always believe in love and are not afraid to not grow old. 

※※※※※

I'm going to search for my star until I find it.

It's hidden in the drawer of innocence, wrapped in a scarf of wonder.

- Michael Jackson - 

 ____________________________________________________________________

(1-3) J.M. Barrie: Peter Pan

Thursday, 12 October 2023

Welcome To The Dark Side

by Michelle


Note: Certain lines were taken from the episodes ‘The Rest Is Silence’, ‘Invictus’ and ‘The Reckoning’ from the TV series Beauty and the Beast, written by Ron Koslow, George R.R. Martin, Alex Gansa & Howard Gordon.
This story appeared first in the Treasure Chambers "Together Forever VII - The Truth I Will Always Know" onzine in 2023.

※※※※※


“Where once was light, now darkness falls...”
Gollum’s Song (Fran Walsh)


Darkness… that’s what he was most familiar with throughout his life. The darkness of the life he led since his childhood… the darkness of the deeds he had committed countless times; the darkness of his heart and soul. This darkness was different, though. The black nothingness gripped him with an iron hand, sucking the last remains of life out of him within seconds.

Open your eyes...

Was it only a blink of an eye since he had lost consciousness and had a whole lifetime passed him by? He didn’t know. The only thing he knew was that something was urging him to open his eyes and see, although he had no idea what it was. His heavy eyelids made an effort and bit by bit, they revealed an unknown scene before him.

“You took your time.” A deep, resounding voice with a hint of sarcasm made him slowly sit up and focus. He blinked, protecting his sight from momentary dazzling light that was almost blinding him. When his eyes adjusted to the unexpected brightness, so much in contrast to the vast blackness from only a moment ago, he began to recognise the shapes of his surroundings.

The blinding brightness faded, and he found himself in something he would describe as a giant lair - a wide underground space surrounded by rough rocky walls reaching high up into the dark nothing, with damp and cool air and a soft mist rising from the ground, sneaking around him like a snake. Then finally, his eyes stopped at the tall, bony figure in front of him, with piercing black eyes and dressed all in black.

“Is this---” he started, narrowing his cold, hazel eyes.
”It is the place where you need to be,” his counterpart answered with a chilling smile. “At least for the time being.”
“Could you be more specific? I am not used to incomplete answers, they irritate me.”“I think you are clever enough to figure the answer yourself shortly,” came the smug reply.
“Who are you?”

The tall man straightened himself up in full glory, lifting his head proudly. “I am he, who brought despair and destruction to many. He, who killed the weak, standing in his way. He, who fought the strongest and the most powerful. He, who battled… and lost… I am he, who was his first real enemy.” He paused for a moment, contemplating, but then added. “I have been waiting for you.”

His face got distorted by a proud grin. “I am your guide in this place. The man who was born John Pater and later became Paracelsus. And I am truly pleased to have finally made your acquaintance, Gabriel…”

***

The newly deceased man observed his self-proclaimed guide with scepticism. “Paracelsus? You don’t look like a Renaissance alchemist.”
“Unfortunately, I am not the alchemist, although I am no stranger to the secrets of alchemy. However, I carry his name with utmost respect,” Paracelsus replied with importance.
“An imposter then, how charming.”
“No mortal dares call me that! You are lucky you are not one of them anymore.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes then noticed the sarcastic grin on Paracelsus’s face.
“Don’t you remember? You should. I must say the poetic justice in the manner of your demise was very intriguing.”

Gabriel suddenly remembered and grabbed his chest, then looked down at it. His snowy-white shirt was spotless.
“Yes, you were shot,” Paracelsus confirmed the fact.
“Is this a dream?” the crime lord asked, confused.
“No dream can bring back the lost ones, not even a nightmare.”

The former drug lord studied the man in front of him with a cold stare.
"Who are you?” he asked then.
“I already told you, I’m your guide,” Paracelsus answered, with a sigh.
“I don’t need a guide! I am no ignorant child!”
“Then you better stop behaving like one. Look around you and tell me if you can find your way.”

Gabriel’s eyes searched the space surrounding him. With great frustration and anger, he realised he didn’t know which way to go. 

“Do you believe now?” Paracelsus raised his eyebrows with a mocking grin.
“The only thing I’ve ever believed in was my own strength and ability to make the world crawl at my feet!”
“Too much self-confidence and too little reality awareness has brought an untimely end to many men,” the man in black sighed and shook his head.
Gabriel wasn’t sure if he detected a hint of regret in his guide’s voice. “It was none of those that ended my life!” he remarked angrily.
“That is a matter of perception.”

Gabriel circled around Paracelsus with knitted brows, like a panther observing his prey, more curious about the mysterious man with each passing minute.
“Who are you?? Whose first real enemy were you?”
“You are beginning to bore me, but very well.” The former Tunnel dweller straightened himself up proudly yet again, grinning. “Who was your greatest enemy and your greatest obsession at the same time?”

An image of a furious lion-faced man attempting to strike at him flashed in Gabriel’s memory.
“Precisely,” Paracelsus said without getting a reply. “I am the one who led you to him. I am the one who paved the way… to your death…”

Gabriel’s icy glare was full of hatred.
”I was like you once,” the man in black started, “full of ambitions and dreams greater than anyone could ever imagine. I thought there was nothing and no one in the world that could stop me from achieving my goal.”

He paused for a moment, then his dark eyes turned cold. “Then came the disillusionment and betrayal from those I thought would understand. My life changed from one day to another. The need for revenge and retribution became my primary desire, even stronger than my hunger for power. And it all came to pass when he came.”
His companion raised his eyebrows. “He?”
“The most extraordinary being you and I have ever seen,” Paracelsus replied, with a mild sentiment that passed in a blink of an eye. “He was but a baby when he entered my life, yet I could feel his power, his will to survive, his potential…”

For the first time since the two men met, he looked on the verge of losing self-control, as if the effort of bringing his darkest memories back to life cost him much more than what he had bargained for.
”However, I was deceived… by my very own…” The anger in his voice was palpable. “That day, I swore I would get my revenge and emerge even greater than before.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. ”This is all very dramatic, but could you cut it short?” he asked, his irritation growing.

Paracelsus pierced him with his look. “As far as I can see, you have nowhere to hurry off to.” He lifted his chin, annoyed by the display of disinterest by the newly deceased. “I am here for a reason, so I will decide what to do and when.”
”Very well.” Gabriel waved his hand then folded his arms on his chest, waiting for more.

“To make it brief,” Paracelsus continued, “the one I wanted to make great turned against me and in the end, he took my life, although not knowing who he struck at first. Ironically, it was the happiest day of my life, for at least once in his life, for a moment, he turned into what I always thought he could become - the most powerful and merciless being on earth… a being to my image.” He smirked triumphantly.

”What does it all have to do with me?” Gabriel inquired with pretended disinterest.
”Nothing… and everything,” Paracelsus replied. “You know of whom I speak, so you may as well learn that I knew about you long before I was robbed of my life. We used to trade in…,” he paused and chuckled, “let’s say, a similar industry, and your name had a ring in places of interest.”

“How come I’ve never heard about you?” the crime lord inquired with suspicion.
Paracelsus smirked with pride. “I was excellent in keeping… private,” he replied then returned to his original thought. “Anyway, I had heard that you were looking for the black book, so I decided it would be a handy instrument to lead you to Vincent.”

Things were getting too confusing for Gabriel, and he frowned.
”Call me ignorant but just how did you expect that it would lead me to him? I mean… even with your intelligence, which I can see there are traces of, how could you have expected… arranged that it would lead me where you wanted me to be??”
It sounded all too incredulous.

Paracelsus raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a deep sigh.
”I’ve always found it deflating to hear people doubt my skills,” he stated. Then he continued, still mildly offended. “Before I walked into my death, I spun a web around Catherine Chandler and Joe Maxwell. Of course, they believed everything. They have always been full of justice and truth but always missing the point,” he said with disdain. “Justice is only good when it serves a good purpose, and truth can easily be bent to our convenience. Maxwell is luckily too transparent concerning everything, from his work to his friends. It wasn’t difficult to invent a way to attract him since he is not in for bribes and blackmailing. He is so moral it’s sickening.”

“Unlike his ex-boss,” Gabriel remarked with a smirk.
”To my knowledge, Moreno always played on the side that suited him, traitor material of the finest calibre. Pity I had no opportunity to test his resilience. I’m sure I would have been highly entertained.”

“You like playing with people, don’t you?” Gabriel stated more than asked.
”I used to, but only if they were worthy opponents. Which, come to think of it, Moreno wasn’t.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned coldly. “That leads us to the maned man himself. I was sure my little charade would make a way for you to meet him at some point.”

Gabriel’s response was immediate and aggressive.
“Hell itself must have sent you my way…” he spat, with a despising look.
“That is another matter, which we are not here to answer,” Paracelsus replied as a matter of fact, before amusement coloured his voice, “but if you are honest with yourself, you must admit it was the most thrilling experience of your life.”

The crime lord’s lips slowly extended into a satisfied, devilish grin, matching the alchemist’s grin with equal satisfaction.

“So what happens now? Am I about to meet three ghosts that turn me into a saint?” Gabriel inquired then, with a challenging look.
“Don’t ruin this moment of perfection.” Paracelsus shook his head. “This is no Dickens.”
“By no means,” Gabriel agreed sarcastically.
“I will show you the past and…”
“I know my past. Thank you for the effort, but you can keep it.”
”I will show you the past and you will look at it through the eyes of those that were affected by it,” Paracelsus continued, resolved. “You will see the actions and their consequences. You will not judge with the eyes you had in your life, but with the eyes you have now.”

Looking at the man in front of him, whose stare of a reptile silently observed him with a mixture of pretended boredom, curiosity and resistance, Paracelsus understood there was only one way to go forward. He turned his head to the right, peering into the dark distance. He raised his hand a pointed in the same direction.
“We better start,” he said firmly, and the space ahead of them suddenly opened like a window.

Seeing the revealed image before him, Gabriel incredulously narrowed his eyes, and as if pulled by a magnet, he made a few steps closer to it…

※※※

 

“We are lost! We can never go home...”
Gollum’s Song (Fran Walsh)

 

The scruffy-looking small bedroom was cast in darkness. Only the moonlight from outside managed to faintly break through the window, illuminating the interior crammed with three children’s beds, a small desk with two chairs and an old, heavy wardrobe standing on the wall opposite the window. There was silence except for the sound of heavy breathing coming from one corner, suggesting the presence of someone.

In that corner, a small figure of a skinny, dark-haired boy, of about seven years of age, was crouching and shaking. He appeared as if he wanted to completely hide from the world, but the limited space of the bedroom prevented him from doing so. His haunted hazel eyes were open, but he was visibly holding back tears - he was afraid.

Suddenly, the creaky door opened with a slow and heavy motion, bringing a ray of bright light into the dark space. The boy turned his head in the door’s direction with horror. He saw the shadow of a tall, bony man appear in the doorway. He took two heavy steps to enter the room, coming into the moonlight so the boy could see him.

“Come with me, son,” the man said, sounding like a robot, after a moment of staring at his child with a stony expression on his face.
”I don’t want to,” replied the boy with a shaky voice, bracing his knees with his arms tighter.
The man was relentless. “It is not up for discussion. Come with me.”
”I said I’m not going!” repeated the boy, this time with more vigour.

Without a word, his father approached him and grabbed his thin arm, leading him with force out into the light of the corridor. Although the boy tried to resist with all his strength, it was useless. Suddenly, he stopped fighting when he saw another man standing nearby and waiting.
”Hello, Gabriel,” the man said, his ear-to-ear smile making the child cringe and shudder. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment for a long time. We are very happy that you will join us, young man.”

In the last attempt to change his mind, the boy cast his pleading eyes at his father, but the only thing he saw was the face of a stone - pale and lifeless.
”It’s been a pleasure making business with you,” the stranger said while shaking the other man’s hand and taking Gabriel’s little hand.
”Daddy, please!!” the child cried, but he was already being led away. Something in him cracked at once and he exploded. “I hate you!!! I will always hate you!!!” he spat screaming, kicking the stranger into his calves and trying to escape, without success.

The last image he had of his father was one he couldn’t define in all his years on earth afterwards. It resembled a soldier on a battlefield seeing his companions lying all around - speechless, helpless and beaten.


 

“He sold me… sold me!” Gabriel hissed, ignoring the prickling in his eyes.
”Did he ever tell you why?” Paracelsus asked without a hint of emotion.
”My… father was never a man of many words. I’ve heard my brothers say that he used to talk much more before my mother died. I guess that’s why he chose me back then - so I couldn’t remind him that I killed his wife by coming to the world!”
”Is that why you strangled him eight years after this?”

Gabriel turned his head from the image that had faded into black and pierced his guide with an angry look.
”Do you know what hate is?” he asked, tilting his head. The sharp features of his face appeared even sharper.
”Of course, it was the basis of my existence for more than thirty years.”
“Then you must understand. That day, I swore to myself that I would pay him back one day, with interest. And I did, with pleasure.”

Paracelsus stated coldly. “He sold you because he needed money to feed your brothers and because he thought you would be well looked after by the man and his wife, who couldn’t have children.” He paused and sighed. “All he wished for you was to have a chance of a good life. He had no idea that those weasels only needed someone for free labour around their house.”

There were only a few moments in Gabriel’s existence that had ever surprised him. This was one of them. For a moment, he went numb, unsure whether to believe the words or not.
”What difference does it make?” he asked eventually, struggling to pretend indifference. He was trying to hold on to his pride with all his might. No one will ever make me feel guilty. No one!
”Maybe none. It wasn’t your first murder, after all. I have to say, you were quite proficient at your craft, for a teenager,” Paracelsus replied, then added. “I only thought you should get familiar with all the facts.” Seeing that Gabriel stubbornly refused to discuss the matter any further, he changed the topic. ”Anyway, your journey to the past hasn’t finished yet. There is more.”

He pointed to his right again, and the other man’s look reluctantly followed. And truly, the window in the space was still open, although veiled in black. However, it took only a moment before it revealed another scene…

※※※

“Where once was love, love is no more...”
Gollum’s Song (Fran Walsh)

 

The amber light of countless candles illuminated a cave-like chamber. It was dominated by a large antique double bed, covered by an intricately hand-crafted colourful quilt. A set of nightstands on either side of the bed completed the picture of a cosy resting place. Not far away from the bed stood a wooden crib. It was empty.

On the opposite side of the rocky chamber stood a young woman, with long, dark hair, wearing all sorts of different worn clothes, combined in an unusual but tidy style. She was leaning slightly against the wall behind her. She looked forlorn, in need of physical support. Her eyes, dark but warm, were staring at the empty crib in silent and sorrowful contemplation.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry,” she whispered to herself, trembling. “Please, forgive me, my darling boy… but you’ll be safe now.”
She smiled and quickly wiped away a tear from her face, eager to look as composed as possible.

Her contemplation was interrupted when someone else present in the chamber approached her. He was tall and lean, clad all in long black clothes. When he stopped by her side, his oblong face came into view. Its features were very distinctive - dark, sharp eyes, long nose, dark beard, combed-back short hair… and a wide, almost disturbing grin.

“I’m glad you’re back, John,” the woman said hesitantly.
”So am I,” he replied, still grinning. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. All the disturbing events have caused too much pain already. I decided it is time to move on and start over.”
His voice was like honey - deep and smooth, almost liquid. It didn’t sound right. The icy look of his eyes only confirmed it.

John walked over to the large table in the middle of the chamber and conjured up a bottle of red wine. He poured some of it into two copper chalices, his back turned to her. Then he returned, offering one of the chalices. He was still smiling, but the woman’s eyes revealed suspicion.

“To a new beginning,” he said, raising his chalice. His dark eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to drink, but then he put the chalice to his lips and took a gulp.

Seeing this, the woman decided to follow him and she drank the wine he offered her. It took only a few seconds for her to start gasping for air. Her hands reached for him in a desperate attempt to get help, but when, despite her agony and horror, she noticed the merciless glare of his dark eyes and the disturbing wide grin on his face, she understood the truth.

Her already limp body fell to the ground and her now lifeless eyes stared into the distance…


 

Gabriel was staring at the scene with confusion. The image of the woman lying dead on the cold stony floor lingered in the air in front of him like a tapestry.
”Who was she?” he asked curiously.
”Anna… She was my wife,” Paracelsus answered, his voice surprisingly quiet and less assured.
There was only one question that could have been asked. “Why…?”
Paracelsus sighed and chuckled in an attempt to cover a hint of melancholy. “Because she took away the thing I wanted the most. Something I could have led to true greatness and that would have helped me acquire the infinite power.” He pointed at the scene again. “Look into her eyes.”

Gabriel did as he was told and looked closely at the woman’s eyes which suddenly became the sole focus of the scene floating in the air. They turned into a new window, flashing various images in succession.

Anna, running around what looked like tunnels, laughing and constantly looking back as if checking on someone…
Anna, with a sad face, walking down a dark, snowy alley, then suddenly stopping and looking at a pile of boxes next to the dustbins at a building with a large sign “St Vincent’s Hospital”…
Anna, with a glowing face and a beaming smile, holding a small bundle in her arms, looking down at it with love…
Anna, with a disturbed and worrying look in her eyes, watching John fuss about and talk to the bundle in the crib - his face an image of obsession…
Anna, with teary eyes, passing the bundle to some bearded, frowning man with troubled grey eyes…
The bearded man, revealing the face hidden in the bundle - the face resembling a young lion…

Gabriel inadvertently took a step back, with a quiet gasp. He tilted his head, and his hawk eyes couldn’t stop staring at the face of the unusual baby that started fading into the air until it vanished like smoke.
“Vincent?” he asked incredulously to get a confirmation of what was obvious.
”Yes,” Paracelsus replied quite coldly. “The thing I wanted the most in the whole world… at least at that time.”

The circle was closing; Gabriel only now began to truly understand why this man, with the eagle-eye stare, was sent to meet him on the threshold between Heaven and Hell. They had much more in common than just their criminal past, fun at manipulating people and desire for boundless power. They shared the potential ultimate weapon to that power. They shared Vincent.

Was Gabriel disturbed by the fact that Paracelsus murdered his wife in an act of revenge for taking away the thing he wanted and needed most to obtain his goal? Not in the least, so it seemed. After all, the alchemist wasn’t the only one who ever killed a woman. Isabelle...

He was fourteen; she was sixteen back then. He had been living on the street for five years, after he escaped from his so-called new parents, having had enough of slaving for them for nothing, not even a single sign of human affection. That was when he met Isabelle, in the part of Lower Manhattan formerly known as Five Points (where the infamous Al Capone, one of Gabriel’s inspirations, started his gangster career).

She was a breath of fresh air in his stale, polluted and miserable life, at a time when he had enough of being the poor, downtrodden boy without a single thing in his possession. She was fresh, cultivated, gentle, graceful and beautiful… as beautiful a girl as Gabriel had never seen before. He had to have her. He never had anything, but he swore he would have her and love her. His perseverance was rewarded… she fell into his arms almost too easily. But then, the realisation struck him.

Isabelle was too beautiful to remain unpolluted. Life had taught him that humans are susceptible to deceit and betrayal. Sooner or later, he would lose her to someone else, once his love wasn’t enough for her. He had to preserve her purity and perfection so nothing could spoil it, and there was only one way to do it - he had to kill her. So he did.

“Yes, you beat me there,” Paracelsus interrupted the train of Gabriel’s thoughts. “I was eighteen when I took someone’s life for the first time.”
“How do you…?” Gabriel stuttered, uncomprehending.
”Oh, please…” His guide rolled his eyes. “Remember where we are. Are you truly still surprised by anything here?”
”No,” admitted Gabriel after a moment, with a sarcastic grin, raising his eyebrows. Then his face grew more serious.

“Did you ever regret it? Did you ever think, What if I hadn’t done it back then?” he asked the uncharacteristic question for a man who destroyed so many without a blink of an eye.
Paracelsus lowered his eyes for a moment. “Yes, I did ask myself that question once,” he answered truly, letting his guard drop for the first time during their exchange.
”And?”
“And I moved on and never asked it of myself again.” Paracelsus paused, his eyes unusually vulnerable. “The war has ruined us for everything…”(1)

He blinked, and the expression on his face changed back to normal - cool and distanced.

“Well, then,” he said, shaking off the previous conversation topic. “Shall we have a look at your last stop in the past?”

He barely finished speaking when the floating window opened again…

※※※
 

“Don’t say - goodbye, don’t say - I didn’t try...”
Gollum’s Song (Fran Walsh)

 

The light of torches attached to the walls partially penetrated the darkness in the rocky tunnel. A blonde-haired boy of not yet twenty, dressed in seemingly randomly combined old clothes, was sitting near an entrance to another tunnel, listening. His face was distressed, worried… heartbroken. He was listening to sounds that surely had to remain hidden from the world of people. They were the heart wrenching roars of an animal…

The sound of shuffling feet interrupted his pained contemplation, and he turned his head. He saw three people approaching him with worried looks in their eyes. Two were dressed in a similar style: an older man with grey hair and a grey beard, holding a makeshift walking stick, and a half-bold man in his late thirties. The third person was a woman - it was Catherine Chandler.

After the older man patted the boy’s head, the younger man stayed back with the boy, while the other two carefully crossed over to the other tunnel.

“How long do you think this will last?” the man with sharp and honest eyes on his eager face, asked the boy.
“As long as he needs,” the latter one offered. “Been through this before, remember?”
”Yes, but the first time, he was still a child, and the second time, he was drugged. This is different.”
”Everything different in his case. Mouse will stay here. Mouse will help if needed.”

Catherine Chandler managed to take only the first step towards the dark cave where the roars were coming from when her companion halted her sharply.

“No! You can’t! ” His eyes widened with horror.
“I must,” she replied firmly.
”Catherine, please!”
"Father, he is my life,” she insisted, desperate determination brightening her big eyes. “Without him, there is nothing…”

The man she called Father hesitated for a while, but soon realised there was no way to stop her. He briefly squeezed her hands, then reluctantly let her go, watching her taking step after step towards the terrifying unknown.

Catherine kept on walking, careful but resolved. Her eyes widened, her mouth was slightly opened, as if she needed extra oxygen to cope with the adrenaline that vibrated in her veins. When she finally reached the cave, neither apprehension nor the ever-louder growls could stop her. She dared to enter it, and her eyes searched for the source of the desperate animal sounds, focusing her look into the dark corner of the cave.

And then he appeared… suddenly running toward her, clad in ragged clothes, with an angry roar and wild look in his eyes, raising his right hand to strike, when…
“Vincent!!!”

Catherine’s scream stopped the deadly blow as the lion-faced man’s features slowly relaxed, locking his widened, shocked eyes with the eyes of the woman he had just almost killed. His breathing slowed, and losing consciousness, he slid down to the ground, taking Catherine with him…



“Oh, brilliant,” Gabriel stated with annoyance as the scene in front of his eyes dissipated like smoke. “Now that it was getting entertaining.”
”That was not the point of you watching it,” Paracelsus replied dryly. “Besides, you obviously know that Vincent didn’t kill her.”
The crime lord rolled his eyes, demanding more. “Come on, humour me. What was the outcome of this situation?”
Paracelsus smirked. “Oh, you know what. You held it in your arms.”

That silenced Gabriel for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed, and he absently scratched his chin. Fascinating...
”Interesting… She walked into that cave without hesitation, despite knowing she might never walk out again,” he said.
”A very resilient woman in possession of a great amount of strength and stubbornness, as you learned yourself. Foolish, really, but I admit, you have to admire that. I had the opportunity to witness it with my own eyes.”
“Do you care to elaborate?” Gabriel asked, more out of curiosity than real interest.
“No,” came the simple answer. “It would be of no more use to you than what you have already seen, and even less to me.”

Gabriel glanced back to the space where he had just watched the dramatic moment between Vincent and Catherine unfold.

“I wonder why he stopped,” he mused, his piercing eyes still seeing the scene from a few moments ago. “All that strength, all the power and ability… I never understood why he detested using that power to do whatever he could to become the greatest in the world.” He turned back to his guide. ”The world could have been his. I offered him a partnership, but he refused it. He refused to kill anyone without any other reason than defending lives, even when I provoked him.”

“The same happened with me,” Paracelsus stated. “Twice, he had the chance to take my life at our physical encounter, and twice, the annoying moral code his human part lives by prevented him from doing so.” He raised his eyebrows. “Foolish? Probably. Missed opportunities? Most definitely. Would he have missed the opportunity again if I hadn’t poisoned his mind with lies and driven him to the edge of insanity? Oh, yes, I sadly believe so.”
“So why didn’t he kill her?” Gabriel enquired.
”For the same reason you thought you did. Love.”

That confused the former crime lord more than anything before.  ”What in the devil’s name are you talking about?”

Paracelsus chuckled. “Love… that strange, often superfluous emotion… human’s greatest strength and weakness at the same time. It has many faces. Vincent didn’t kill Catherine for the love he holds for her, which, even in his insanity, he didn’t forget about. He would have rather died than harm her. You wanted to kill her because you love yourself. You were obsessed with the idea of having the ultimate weapon all in your power - her and Vincent’s child. She was of no use to you after giving birth, so she was to become collateral damage. “  He smirked. “Behold where it has got you.”

Anger flashed in Gabriel’s eyes.
”I don’t need your preaching, imposter!” he barked. “You don’t appear exactly to be living happily either."
Paracelsus chuckled. “My life is of no consequence here. I died reaching my goal, which is something you, unfortunately, can’t claim. “

A moment of silence interrupted their exchange. Paracelsus observed the newcomer with unfeigned interest. Only a few people had ever come close to equalling his ambitions and criminal skills. To see this cold man learning to cope with his new status and, unbeknownst to him, choosing his next path was a welcome distraction for him.

“So what now?” Gabriel asked when the silence stretched, unwilling to show any emotions or reveal his inner train of thought.
Paracelsus’s deep chuckle reverberated in his chest. ”Now the time has come for the curtain to fall… After a little epilogue…”

His grin annoyed Gabriel, who was more irritated than ever, but he decided to humour the man in black and focused one last time on the imaginary window…

※※※ 

 

“So in the end, I’ll be what I will be…”
Gollum’s Song (Fran Walsh)

 

The amber candlelight and the subdued light of several hanging lamps with colourful stained-glass shades illuminated a rocky chamber. It was dominated by a large double bed, covered with colourful quilts, and right beside it stood a vintage wooden crib. A soft mewling sound came from the crib, a call for attention.

“I’m here, Jacob,” Vincent’s soothing voice reassured the baby after he carefully took him in his arms. “You are safe now, always.”

The child stopped fussing immediately, fascinated by the face of his father. Two pairs of blue eyes locked, and the boy’s little mouth turned into a smile.
No one can tell me, nobody knows, where the wind comes from, where the wind goes.”(1) Vincent recited with enthusiasm to his son. “It’s flying from somewhere as fast as it can, I couldn’t keep up with it, not if I ran.”(2)

But if I stopped holding the string of my kite, it would blow with the wind for a day and a night...”(3) Catherine’s soft voice seamlessly took over from Vincent’s, as she appeared by his side, followed by a beaming smile and a kiss on the baby’s forehead. She was dressed in a cream-coloured, high-neck woollen dress. with long sleeves covering most of her hands. Its style matched in a way with Vincent’s multilayered woollen and leather attire. That could mean only one thing…

Catherine looked at the man now sitting in an antique high-back chair with the baby in his arms and shared a gentle kiss with him.

“How is he?” she asked then, unable to stop smiling, letting her hand rest on his shoulder.
Vincent looked back at the child in his arms, wrapped in hand-sewn swaddling clothes.
”Fearless,” he replied proudly. “Wonderful.”
“Such a miracle…”
He turned his head to see her face again. “The miracle of love,” he remarked softly.

Slowly standing up, he walked over to the bed and sat down, his eyes inviting Catherine to join him. She accepted immediately and sat down next to him. He passed her the baby, nesting it comfortably in its mother’s arms. 

And then when I found it, wherever it blew,”(4) she continued reciting. “I should know that the wind had been going there too.”(5)
So then I could tell them where the wind goes... But where the wind comes from nobody knows...”(6)

Vincent’s voice faded into silence as the boy closed his big blue eyes, happily falling asleep in the comforting presence of his parents…

 


Gabriel didn’t notice his clenched fists until they started going numb. With gritted teeth, he watched the scene that wasn’t supposed to be.
She should be dead! The child was supposed to be mine, mine only!

The unbearable feeling of having lost what he thought was meant to be his stung him like a thorn one can’t get out. Just a few days ago, even the thought of failure was unimaginable, unacceptable… impossible! And yet it happened and all he could do was face it.

His body started to relax, his temper subsided, and his eyes turned from the raging fire back into ice. Once, he owned nations and had the world at his feet. Now he knew he was beaten, both in life and in death.

“Do you understand now?” Paracelsus broke the silence, making Gabriel jerk, speaking with his father’s voice. “Violence can be satisfying, but it won’t make you happy,” he continued in Anna’s voice. “Death… shall have no dominion,” he added, impersonating Catherine.

Gabriel suddenly shivered. He was never afraid of anything, nothing had ever made him back off or doubt himself, but he looked truly shaken at that moment.
”Stop it!” he shouted. “I’m not playing this game!”
”The ultimate power lies in something quite different,” Paracelsus said, speaking with Vincent’s voice. His black eyes stared at the shook-up Gabriel with an intensity that made him very uncomfortable. “And I think you know now what it is,” he finished, speaking with his own voice again.

“If you’re attempting to turn me into a soft loser, I can spare you the time,” sneered Gabriel.
”I am not attempting anything,” Paracelsus replied dryly. “I am a mere intermediary. You choose your own path, in life… and death.”
”I think it’s pretty obvious where I am going,” Gabriel remarked with a snigger. “By the way, which path did you choose?” he asked. “Although looking at the colour of your clothes, I would say it’s pretty obvious, too.” A grin distorted his sharp features.

Paracelsus tilted his head, raising his thick eyebrows.
”Do you really think clothes make men? That thought has always been the greatest mistake of every man - appearances often deceive. Neither life nor death can be determined merely by what we see.”
Life and death make a perfect circle, like a ring that has no beginning and no end,” Gabriel interjected.“A serpent eating its own tail forever. Violence eats on violence, murder on murder, vengeance on vengeance, century after century for all eternity.
“And only you can decide - remaining a part of that serpent or letting go of it. ”

Gabriel’s eyes absently wandered around the space surrounding them, filled with dark rocks, mist and almost ethereal blue light.  All his dreams, ambitions and desires emerged from his memory like a long sequence of flashbacks - his grand plans, his successes, as well as his failures. They all mingled in one fast filmstrip, haunting him and making his head spin.

He grasped his temples and frowned in pain, attempting to silence all the voices of the past in his mind. All the blame, the hurt and pain of losses, all the lies he ever told, the exhilarating moments of his wins, all the dead ones lining the path to his victories... Gabriel’s breath became ragged, the headache was becoming unbearable. Unable to hold it within anymore, he let out a terrible scream.
”Enough!!”

Miraculously, like with a wave of a magic wand, the voices quieted, crawling back into his memories, where they belonged. His laboured breathing slowed, his hands slowly fell back down, and his features relaxed.

“The ghost of the past came to haunt you?” Paracelsus asked dryly, with a grin.
Gabriel’s icy glare was enough of an answer. Then he exhaled loudly, briefly closing his eyes.
”I… I’m confused,” he said then truthfully. His usual self-confidence was gone with the scream he uttered just a moment ago.
”So are they all when they come here,” Paracelsus stated. “Especially the truly evil ones. And frightened.”

The evil ones… Yes, he was evil, more evil than many of those he admired during his lifetime. He was never frightened, though, not since the day he was sold. Building thick walls of want and disturbing cruelty, he erased any chance of being afraid for as long as he could remember. But those walls crumbled into dust the moment he had crossed over…

“What happens with me now?” he asked, trying to sound and look unphased by the events that had just transpired.
“Two paths, two choices,” Paracelsus remarked, looking at two pathways that had appeared ahead of them as the mist suddenly lifted, one ending in blackness, the other in amber light. “Only one decision.”

Gabriel stared at the paths, one of which was to determine his fate in the afterlife. It seemed obvious; there could be only one place for someone like him. But what if…
“So, what will your choice be?” Paracelsus asked with genuine interest.

Gabriel glanced at his guide one more time, his face unreadable. Then he took a deep breath, lifted his chin and took the first step into the unknown.


※※※※※



_________________________________________________

(1) Erich Maria Remarque: All Quiet On The Western Front
(2-6) A. A. Milne: Wind On The Hill