The deep, dark water churned around him. It cradled and nursed him. He hung there, suspended in the flowing abyss that was warmed by a surrounding heat, as his thin, blonde locks undulated about. His cloth-less form was still as his eyes began to twitch, and as they fluttered open, a left green and right blue shining out into the dark, the water stilled. And then it stirred and it blurred and then shifted from a dark, blue abyss to a black, bloody red.
His breath became fractals and the blood rushed into his throat and down into his lungs, transforming his graceful form into a flailing sight of limbs and fear. The blood ahead of him quivered and a shadow merged with the black and then pronounced itself from it. Before he could even retch or blink, the blood parted as two pitch-black pits, larger than his entire form, matched his gaze; they were eye sockets. Quickly the sockets shifted up and forward revealing it to be a skull. And then the jaw opened and swallowed the man.
With a start, Markus' eyes flew open, a left blue and a right green meeting his white, popcorn ceiling, as he lay there, his chest rising and falling with a quick succession as his eyes sported a redness around them, tear stains marking his pillow.
Markus let his eyelids fall as he inhaled deeply, attempting a strong recovery, but only succeeding in a quivering inhale. With a bite of his lip, Markus wiped his eyes of any wetness as he sat up, his covers pooling around his waist revealing his navy blue long-sleeve. His blonde, shaggy hair refracted the light shining in from the window above his bed.
His eyes, half-lidded, drifted to the window. Eyes that were aflame with the light of fear just moments before now greeted the warm rays of the morning with a dull resignation that marred their shine.
Markus let his head fall forward and stared at his covers with a non-present gaze.
'That nightmare…' He thought to himself with a familiarity.
It was a recurring dream. One formed by the stories he heard from and was told by his parents. Stories of his brother who never got to be.
Vanishing Twin Syndrome.
That's what the doctors had told his parents, apparently; it was weird, freaky even. They were well past the stage of that even being a modicum of a possibility. After all, they'd both developed enough for the doctors to tell the parents that they were boys.
But, one day Jacob was just gone. Vanished without a trace. The doctors couldn't provide any answers, only that she had had twins, and then she didn't.
When Markus had heard of Vanishing Twin Syndrome he was very young. Curious, he began his search. Instead of a definition though, all he found was horror stories that described the event as something more malicious; one twin eating the other.
And so, ever since then, Markus had experienced these dreams, these nightmares. One moment he was safe, and then the next, he was swallowed whole, eaten by a monster.
It'd been seven years since the first. He was sixteen now. He had no delusions that they would end anytime soon.
A knock resounded on the door.
"Markus!"
With a blink, understanding filling his eyes, Markus called back quietly.
"Yeah, mom?" His words slurred slightly in drowsiness, the beginning being stretched out and the end falling off into a breath.
"Time to get up! You'll be late for school!"
"Thanks, mom."
Steps had already begun and faded out by the time he'd responded.
With a groan and a heave of his covers, Markus throws his feet over the edge of the bed and stands up on the cold, wooden floor. Markus makes his way into his bathroom to prepare for the day.
A few minutes later, Markus makes his way downstairs, now dressed in white sweats and a blue hoodie over a black t-shirt, the few pairs of light-colored clothing he had; he used to like red a lot, but after the dreams he couldn't stomach wearing it anymore.
A creak in the final step alerted his mother to his presence.
As she stands by the counter, dressed in her work clothes—jeans and a baggy gray t-shirt—making her lunch for work, she calls out to him without turning.
"Sorry, honey, but the hospital called me in earlier; apparently, no one can find any of the cleaning supplies,-" A snort escapes her. "-and some people made a mess of the reception area. So, you're gonna have to walk to school today."
She fills Markus in quickly. He wasn't caught off guard by the news; it'd become routine at this point. He was starting to think she just wanted to avoid him.
Markus approaches the kitchen island, dropping his bag by the corner, and takes a seat.
"Here, I made you an egg sandwich for breakfast."
She turns to place a plate in front of him.
The plate clattered against the counter, causing Markus to flinch and his mother to freeze for just a moment. For just a moment, they sat there in the quiet, stillness of the room. The noise was quieter this time around, enough so that it was clearly put down softer than the times before. But she couldn't help it.
Without a word, his mother turned around and went to grab her keys. As she does so, a picture on the counter, on the microwave, catches her attention and she stares at it, as she does every morning. It was an ultrasound. One of Jacob Grimm. The brother he never had and the son she never got.
Without a goodbye or an 'I love you,' his mother was gone, and the unsaid thoughts and emotions rung out through the house by proxy of the slammed front door.
Markus tried to eat his sandwich, but his hands were shaking too much to hold it steadily. He managed a bite from the sandwich, but when he swallowed it he grew queasy and had to put the sandwich down to focus on his breathing.
With his head in his hands, Markus feels something brush up against his wrist.
With a lift of his eyelids, he sees a pale, blonde ferret staring at him with its beady, black eyes.
"Hey, Bandit."
He greeted Markus with a squeak.
As Markus petted Bandit, calming his nerves, something caught his eye in the corners of the kitchen. The shadows. The shadows twisted and churned, spreading from the corners onto walls where light shone and across the floor toward Markus.
He stilled. His breath hitched slightly and increased by a peg, but he didn't run from it. He knew he was safe, even if—at times—he felt otherwise.
Bandit turned to the growing shadow and bared his teeth with a loud, sharp hiss.
The shadows, long and deep, recoiled—quickly receding back into the corners and becoming more opaque as they did so.
Markus released a long breath.
"Thanks, buddy."
Bandit squeaked.
Markus picked up his bag and began making his way to the front door as he dreaded his walk to school with fidgety, cold hands.
As the door swung open, he prepared for the menagerie of sights awaiting him.
With a lock of the front door, he saw a bear with tusks and antlers following his neighbor out the front door of their home as they made their way to the mailbox, its large form distorting to fit through a door it had no right to fit through. Markus' neighbor, Mrs. Marley, gathered her mail and spotted Markus
With a smile, she waved to him, her thin fingers, aged by time, crossing over the rising sun.
"Good morning, Mr. Grimm."
"Morning, Mrs. Marley." Markus returned to her the same greeting, accompanied by a nod.
The beast behind her stared at him with hollow eye sockets; it reminded him of the skull from his dreams. Unfortunately, this was real.
With a step onto the cracked line overgrown with weeds, by the antique shop down the street from his home, Markus could see a giant raven-esqe creature atop the buildings overseeing the populace with its many eyes. Its hidden set of wings fidgeting and its cracked beak clacking fretfully in an unnerving manner.
With a turn onto the street that passes the neighborhood just before Markus' school, he witnessed a Mormon, one who'd been to his house before, talking to Mr. Antston, a man known for his crankiness. Just over the Mormon's shoulder slouched a towering figure of flickering shadow, with torn wings from which feathers fell and dissipated. Cracks in its form seeped with white light and so too did its eyes that met his.
A static quickly built in Markus' mind, filling his ears with a buzzing, causing him to avert his gaze.
As Markus stepped toward Ogden High, he pondered the sights seen.
He was not unfamiliar with these creatures, as he'd been able to see them his whole life. They varied in range from harmless and familiar looking to horrifying beyond compare and comprehension; no single creature ever resembled another. No one else could see these things and no one else could interact with them, not like he could.
He touched a long, jagged scar on his left side that traced from his jaw to his collarbone as a memory resurfaced, one of pain and fear and eerie yellows.
Markus had taken to calling these creatures Opacum's, derived from the word opaque for his inability to understand these things.
Markus glanced down at Bandit—he was always with him—who hopped around with energy and joy, and flinched when a person sped by them on their bike, splitting Bandit's body like refracted light.
Markus stared for just a moment, disturbed ever so slightly. Quickly, Bandit's form distorted back into place, looking up at him with a tilt of his head.
With a sigh, and a shake of his head, Markus trudged his way into school, down the halls, to his class, and—finally—to his desk. His faithful friend by his side all the way.
First period began with a sharp, brain-numbing ring.
It went by uneventfully, though Mr. Gray seemed to have gained a new addition to his wardrobe—an luminous, liquid-like mass that glided over his skin and in and out of his clothes.
The day passed in a blur, minor disturbances occurring here and there: a vine ending in an eye coming out of the bathroom sink, a large formation of clouds that moved in far too much of a life-like manner, a squirrel who seemed to rot and reform by the second.
Finally, fifth period arrived.
It started off as normal as any other day, Mrs. Ray was teaching them differential equations and numerical probabilities in her usual droning fashion that blurred numbers into hieroglyphs, but soup-like in consistency. However, a shift occurred when, as she was putting a new problem on the board, she paused for a time, so long in fact that the students who'd zoned out due to her droning snapped back to attention under the weight of the silence.
And suddenly, she was back, though she seemed confused as she looked at the board and then back at her students.
She opened and closed her mouth, seeming to be searching for words.
"Um, continue with the problems assigned in your books! I, uh, I need to go to the restroom for a moment."
And so, Mrs. Ray made a quick and abrupt retreat.
Once gone, the students broke out into gossip, pondering what was wrong with Mrs. Ray and throwing out wild ideas.
"Maybe she forgot her husband's birthday!" One student barked.
"Maybe she peed herself." One student whispered, giggling, to another.
"I bet she just ran out of things to pull from the book!" Another student mocked.
As the students filled the classroom with more and more conspiracies, Markus stood from his desk and made his way out the door, unnoticed by all except Bandit, who followed closely behind. Markus couldn't be sure why he snuck out, but something inside him compelled him to check on his teacher.
Exiting the classroom door, as he surveyed the halls, just out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a pair of feet turning the corner. With a lurch he rushed down the hall, Bandit nipping at his heel with squeaks of protest.
After he turned the corner, Markus continued to chase after the figure of Mrs. Ray, turning corner after corner. At one point, he managed a glimpse of Mrs. Ray before she was fully around a corner, and as another student passed her he could've sworn he saw a slight distortion of light near where their shoulders passed.
And so, the chase ensued. Lefts and right and more lefts and more right, and slowly, as he followed Mrs. Ray with a determination he knew not the source of, a realization dawned on him.
'Did this school have this many corners?'
At the thought, Markus slowed his pace, suddenly more cautious and aware. The walls seemed more bleach-colored, the rays shining through the windows were dulled, and the world outside the windows irradiated a monochrome gray.
Turning away from the windows, so fast his head ached for a second, he stopped for a moment. He couldn't stop breathing.
It was too fast.
Too loud.
It was invasive.
Stop.
Control.
Please.
Markus felt a sudden surge of fur upon his leg. He should've been startled, but he wasn't, it was familiar. Looking down with his wide eyes Markus saw Bandit nuzzling his leg, looking up with him in worry and something resembling fear.
Markus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As the ringing dispersed and his breathing leveled, Markus stroked the top of Bandit's head.
"Thanks."
He scratched behind Bandit's ear, showing his sincerity in his appreciation.
As Markus stood up, looking to the corner, he continued his approach.
He turned the corner, and he saw the end of the world. The part where he stood still existed, but as he looked down the hall, the walls and floor fell away into a void, no color or shine shining out or in.
Standing in this void was Mrs. Ray. She turned to him, her neck creaking like a car with its parking brake left on. Her eyes, once pin-like and deep brown, were now bulbous and orange, a yellow pus leaking from the corners.
Markus stepped back out of reflex. Fear of the unknown was something he was greatly familiar with, but this… he'd never seen something like this.
She began to approach him, and her skin began to melt like wax. Some dripped to the void below where feet fell, but fell past and disappeared. Soon though, the skin stopped melting and simply remained a sagging mess, like a mass of fat. Then she opened her mouth.
And kept opening it and kept opening it and kept opening it.
Markus stared, frozen, his joints locked like a poorly oiled machine as he stared at this abomination.
Mrs. Ray ceased her approach. It was a standoff. As they stared at each other, Markus: a rabbit ready to flee—Bandit between his legs, baring its thin fangs—and Mrs. Ray, or what once was, a rabid wolf, hungry.
The silence broke and she rushed Markus. The only reaction he thought to give was to shut his eyes in terror, like a child hiding under the covers in the dark of the night. For a moment nothing happened, and so, he opened his eyes tentatively, his teeth held tightly together.
And nothing. He was greeted with the courtyard of the school. He stood there, not reacting in a particular way, but just staring.
Soon a voice called out to him, a custodian, Jefferey was his name.
"Hey, kid! The day's over! What you hangin' 'round for?"
"... nothing. I was just leaving."
And so he left. Bandit ran up his leg to his shoulder and stared at Markus worriedly; Markus' eyes were vacant.
Months passed and Markus never truly found out what had happened to Mrs. Ray. However, he did find that no one remembered her. Not his class. Not her husband. Not even his parents. Only he remembered her. Were the other creatures the same? Were they once people that went through horrific transformations that were then forgotten? He didn't know.
What he did know was that he was scared. For monsters wandered this town. And they could touch him, hurt him. Drag him into worlds where they reigned supreme.
Would he become like them?