27:4:2024
10:28am
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the basketball court in Moses's backyard. The rhythmic bounce of the ball echoed through the quiet neighborhood, punctuated only by the occasional rustling of the trees as the wind spirit, Oyin, played alongside Moses.
Oyin's form flickered in and out of visibility, dancing on the breeze. The wind spirit had always enjoyed these moments of play, her ethereal presence a comforting whisper in the air. She was both present and invisible, a constant companion, though her true form was as elusive as the wind itself. Moses, focused and in his element, took a shot — the ball swished through the net without a sound.
At the far end of the court, Hound lay sprawled on the grass, his massive form curled up like a giant, peaceful beast. His golden eyes were half-closed, his fur rippling with the faintest pulse of energy. His tail twitched occasionally, but he remained mostly still, clearly watching over Moses.
Moses dribbled the ball, lost in the flow of the game. A part of him was always alert, even in moments like this. The Gate within him made it impossible to truly relax, always aware of the thin line he walked between the living and the dead.
Without warning, the basketball bounced awkwardly off the court, rolling away toward the edge of the yard. Moses jogged after it, but before he could reach it, something strange happened. The ball froze midair, suspended as if caught by an invisible force.
Hound's eyes snapped open immediately, and he growled low in his throat, his massive form rising in an instant. His body radiated tension as he stood, his gaze fixed on the ball. The low rumble of his growl vibrated through the air, a clear warning that something was off.
But Moses, standing just a few paces away, took a slow, deliberate breath. His gaze softened, and for the briefest of moments, the world around him seemed to still. His eyes glowed faintly with a pale light — a sign of his connection to forces beyond the mortal realm. He was the Gate. And the darkness, even in its subtle form, recognized his presence.
And then, as if drawn by some unseen tether, a figure appeared before him.
A little girl, no older than twelve, stood just beyond the basketball court, holding the ball gently in her hands. She was barefoot, wearing a simple dress that fluttered as if the wind itself clung to her. Her hair was long and wild, dancing with the breeze, and her bright eyes shone with an unnatural gleam. She gazed at Moses with an air of quiet curiosity, like someone seeing a rare and precious thing for the first time.
Moses's heart skipped a beat. Something about her felt wrong in a way he couldn't place, but at the same time, there was something familiar — something comforting — about the way she smiled.
The ball dropped softly to the ground as she bounced it once, then twice, almost as if she were testing its weight. Finally, she turned her gaze to Moses, her smile widening, almost knowingly.
"I finally got to meet the new Gate," she said, her voice calm but carrying an eerie weight, like a whisper from the beyond.
Moses froze. A chill crept up his spine. The girl's presence felt ancient, like she was a fragment of something older than time itself, yet her youthful appearance belied the immense power lurking beneath. He felt the wind shift around him, and for a fleeting moment, he heard the faintest whispers of forgotten voices, the dead, all calling out to her.
Oyin's presence flickered in and out of the air, a rush of wind swirling around Moses as the spirit's ethereal form darted in and out of view. The ball had long stopped moving, but Oyin had now shifted her attention to the girl, the air thickening with a sudden, unsettling tension.
Moses blinked, his heart racing, trying to collect his thoughts. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady despite the rush of uncertainty building within him.
The little girl's eyes shimmered, as though holding secrets Moses couldn't begin to understand. She tilted her head slightly, as if pondering the question.
"I'm not really anyone… or, maybe I'm everyone," she answered cryptically. "But I'm here to make sure you're ready. The Darkness is stirring, and you… well, you're the only one who can stop it."
Moses's gaze shifted toward the girl's hair, which seemed to shimmer in the fading sunlight. It was a striking mixture of black and white, the colors blending together in an almost ethereal way — as if each strand carried the weight of two realities. For a moment, he forgot about the tension in the air, lost in the strangeness of it.
His mind raced.
He had seen that combination before.
The file.
A cold shiver ran down his spine. This girl wasn't just anyone. Moses had read about her, or rather, read about the mystery surrounding her. Taira — the psychic girl who had mysteriously disappeared more than a century ago. Her name had been on every cold case list he'd come across, hidden deep in the archives of strange occurrences that shouldn't have happened. Taira, a gifted girl with untold abilities, had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only rumors of her strange power to communicate with spirits and manipulate minds.
Now, here she was — standing in front of him, her eyes burning with a knowledge Moses couldn't begin to understand.
She wasn't just some missing person from the past. She was the in-between.
His heart skipped a beat.
Moses took a step forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to make sense of the impossible. "Taira…" He spoke her name softly, as though testing the air around him. "How is this possible? You went missing over a hundred years ago. I've read about you. You're— you're supposed to be gone. But you're here. And you're not dead... You're not alive either. You're—" He paused, his voice trailing off, unsure of how to describe what he was seeing.
"You're in between."
Taira's lips curved upward into a soft, knowing smile, her eyes glinting with something ancient — something that didn't quite belong to this world.
"That's exactly right," she said calmly, as if she had already expected the question. Her voice had a soft echo to it, as though it reverberated from a place beyond the physical realm. "I've been stuck here… between life and death. A remnant of what was left behind when the Darkness... claimed my world." She stepped forward, her bare feet light upon the grass, barely disturbing the earth beneath.
Hound, sensing the tension, took a step forward, his huge body tensing again, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. His golden eyes were locked on Taira, muscles rippling as if ready to spring into action. He could sense that she wasn't a simple spirit. There was something far more complicated at play here, something ancient and powerful.
Moses raised a hand, his voice calm but firm. "Sit still, Hound. She means no harm."
The large beast paused, his growl dying in his throat, but his eyes never left Taira. With a slow, reluctant movement, Hound settled back down on the grass, still tense, but trusting Moses's word.
Taira didn't seem fazed by the creature's presence. In fact, she almost seemed to enjoy it, as if she had anticipated it. Her smile didn't waver as she looked back at Moses, her eyes twinkling with something between amusement and melancholy.
"Relax," she said softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. "I've been watching you for a long time, Moses. You are the Gate, aren't you? The one they've been waiting for."
The weight of her words hung in the air, pressing on him, but Moses couldn't fully absorb them just yet. Before he could respond, Taira bounced the ball once, twice, and then tossed it gently back to him. The ball seemed to float toward him, almost as if guided by some invisible force, landing lightly in his hands.
It was such a simple, innocent gesture, but there was something deeply unsettling about it. Something about the way she moved — how she acted like a child while bearing the knowledge of the ages.
He caught the ball, but his hands trembled slightly. He could feel the energy in the air around her, a tension he couldn't explain.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything about this moment — her arrival, the ball, the wind swirling, Hound's growl — was all somehow connected. His mind churned, but he forced himself to stay focused. He couldn't let panic take over.
"Why are you here, Taira? What do you want with me?"
She gave him another soft smile, as if she were answering an unasked question. "I've here to make sure you understand. The Darkness is returning, and you'll need all the help you can get to stop it. You are the key, Moses. The pandora box is waiting. But to close it, to stop it from breaking free, you need to accept your role, embrace your power. But…" She paused, eyes glinting. "You will not do it alone. You have your guardians. They will help. But in the end, you are the one who must make the choice."
Taira's smile faded into something more serious, her eyes narrowing as she met Moses's gaze. The winds around them seemed to pick up, swirling in tighter spirals as if echoing her growing intensity. She folded her arms, and there was a stillness in the air that made Moses's breath catch for a moment.
"I'll need to show you something very important, Moses," Taira said, her voice almost a whisper now, though it still carried an unsettling weight. "And you'll have to trust me."
Moses hesitated, the gravity of her words hanging between them. His eyes flicked over to Hound, still lying motionless at the edge of the court, his amber eyes unblinking. The dog was a protector, always watching, but this time something felt different. The air around them was charged with a strange, almost electric tension.
Taira continued, her gaze shifting slightly as if seeing something far beyond this reality. "The power of the Gate chose you for a reason, Moses. And when the time comes… you'll prove why."
The ground beneath them began to shift. Symbols—ancient and arcane, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light—began to etch themselves into the dirt and grass around the court. They spiraled inwards, forming an intricate circle. Moses's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the symbols. They were familiar, though he couldn't remember exactly where from. He'd seen them in the old texts, hidden in the archives, but only in fragments.
He narrowed his eyes, stepping forward cautiously. "Wait a minute." His voice was laced with a hint of skepticism. "I don't need an astral form to enter the Astral Realm. One of the perks of being a Gate is that I can access it with my physical body."
Moses's pulse quickened. He'd always known that his connection to the afterlife wasn't bound by the usual rules. As the Gate, he could slip between realms without needing to enter in a spiritual form, unlike most. It was something he had come to take for granted, a tool of his responsibility.
But Taira just smirked, the corners of her lips curving upward with a knowing look. Her eyes gleamed with something that could only be described as ancient knowledge, but there was a challenge in her gaze as well.
"Trust me," she said, her voice steady but laden with an edge of certainty. "You'll need an astral form for this. The physical world can only take you so far. There are things you cannot see unless you step beyond the limits of the flesh. When the time comes, you'll understand."
Moses frowned, feeling a prickling sensation run down his spine. He had trusted his instincts until now, but something about her words felt undeniably true. The astral realm had never felt like a place of uncertainty for him, but he couldn't ignore the quiet, nagging feeling in his chest that told him this would be different.
Before he could voice another question, Taira stepped closer, moving with the grace of someone who had mastered both physical and ethereal spaces. She reached down, her fingers brushing gently against Hound's massive head. The giant beast's fur rippled at her touch, but he made no sound, his body still as a statue.
Taira's fingers lightly scratched the top of his head, and Moses watched as she whispered something in Hound's ear. The words were unintelligible, a mix of language and tone that seemed to make the very air vibrate around them.
Hound's amber eyes closed for a moment, and Moses could have sworn he saw a faint shimmer in the beast's gaze — a kind of understanding, a connection to something greater than the physical realm.
"There's much more to Hound than you know," Taira said softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle wind. "He is not just your protector in the material world. He is a bridge to another place. His presence here allows your physical body to remain protected while you travel deeper."
She paused for a moment, her face unreadable. Then she added, "I'll need him to stay with your physical body while you're gone. He will keep you anchored here, safe from harm. But if you're going to go to the astral realm with me, you'll need to trust me. Do you understand?"
Moses looked from Taira to Hound. The beast, despite his enormous size and fearsome presence, seemed at peace in Taira's presence. For the first time, Moses realized there was more to Hound than just being his protector. Hound was a guardian—of the physical realm and beyond. A connection to the in-between.
Moses took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision. This wasn't going to be just another trip to the astral realm. He could feel it — this was something deeper, something that would require all of him.
"Alright," Moses said, his voice steady, though his heart beat faster now. "I trust you. But I need to know what I'm walking into."
Taira's expression softened ever so slightly. "You'll see soon enough. But remember, Moses — time is running out. We don't have the luxury of answers just yet. All you need to know is that you'll be tested. You'll face what's hidden in the shadows of your past, of your very soul. What you see will be a reflection of your own choices, your own fears. And in that reflection, you'll find the path forward."
With a flick of her wrist, the symbols on the ground began to glow brighter, and the air around Moses began to hum with an energy he hadn't felt before. It was as though the entire world was shifting, pulling back just enough to reveal something hidden beneath.
Moses closed his eyes, grounding himself. He felt the winds, the currents of Oyin's presence still swirling around him. Hound's growl rumbled softly, as though understanding the gravity of the situation.
Taira's hand rose slowly, and with a whisper, she beckoned him forward.
"It's time," she said.
Moses was falling—faster than he'd ever fallen before. His body tumbled through the air as if the very sky had decided to drop him into the unknown. Then, suddenly, there was nothing but stillness. He felt as if he was breaking through some kind of invisible barrier, the world around him distorting. His senses seemed to warp, and in the blink of an eye, he was floating.
The water that surrounded him should have been cold, should have soaked him to the bone, but it didn't. He wasn't wet at all. Instead, it felt like he was suspended in a strange kind of fluid, where gravity had no meaning. His limbs floated freely, but the water seemed to refuse the touch of his skin.
He opened his eyes.
What he saw was impossible. He was inside what could only be described as an ocean—endless, vast, and dark—but there was something inherently off about it. The water was clear, yet it felt heavy, oppressive, like it was holding him down in ways he couldn't understand. His gaze drifted downward, and that's when he saw them. Golden threads.
Dozens of them, stretching from his waist to the distance, each one leading to a person. Floating, like him. But these others... they weren't moving. Not at all. They were lifeless, their eyes closed, their bodies slack in the water, as if they were nothing more than driftwood in a current. But these were people, weren't they? He could feel it, in the pull of the golden threads, that they were connected somehow.
He tried to swim to the surface, his muscles straining as he pushed against the invisible weight of the water. But there was no upward movement. Instead, he felt something—something nearby. A presence, not his own. It moved across the water, just out of sight. Then, a flicker. Eyes. Unseen, yet felt. Moses froze. His heartbeat quickened.
Before he could react, a force gripped him—something shoved him down, not physically, but inside his body. It was as if someone, or something, was pressing their hand directly into his soul. He could feel it—cold, invasive, pulling him deeper, like it was trying to drag him into the heart of this strange, waterless ocean. His body didn't move, but the pressure inside him intensified. Panic gripped him as the sensation grew stronger. Whatever it was, it was alive. And it wanted to kill him.
He struggled, trying to pull away from the invisible hand, but it was no use. The threads tied to the other floating bodies tugged at him, as if they were leading him somewhere, guiding him deeper into the abyss. He fought it with every ounce of strength he had, but his body felt as if it were locked in place.
.
His vision began to blur, the figures around him becoming indistinct, the golden threads stretching further into the nothingness.