A Place to Stay
The skittering, crawling creatures with the great claws and the glowing sockets where eyes should be gleefully hammered what may have been a sign that may have said ‘no entry’ or maybe ‘construction ahead’ - if the little bastards knew how to write - into the ground in front of the worn down tossed together shacks that served as their city. A dozen of them beat at each other for the privilege of declaring their newest dubious project while a hundred some more of them jeered and screeched at the brawl.
“What are you dumb ******** up to this time?”
Once, Jake Barrett was terrified of these freakish monstrosities that swarmed around his feet vying for his approval and attention. Now, the gremlins were his dearest friends and closest companions. Showing affection, though, was out of the ******** question.
He looked down at the one that called itself Teartrack.
“Where the hell is Grimclaw, and where has he taken my cards?”
“Architect busy! Make plans! Best bigthing ever!”
Bigthings were dangerous. Bigthings usually fell apart and caused massive amounts of damage to everything around them and horrific injury to any gremlins currently playing with them. Nothing ever discouraged the ********, though. He’d found out the hard way that they possessed no sense of self-preservation and precious little regard for his safety either. At least here in the infinite expanse of dreams and nightmares they couldn’t harm anything else.
This was the Afterworld, where legends and gods dwelled long after they’d been abandoned by reality and the men who created them. This was Jake’s home, ever since he’d left the real world behind. His parting gift was a crater filled to the brim with blood and bones where a town used to be. He didn’t like to dwell on that.
“I’m sure it is. Get him.”
Grimclaw was the architect and the closest thing this raving horde of tiny lunatics had to a leader. He was the cleverest and boldest among them and the biggest pain in Jake’s a**. It didn’t take long for blue-scaled bugger to come running up screaming with sadistic joy. Jake was even less pleased to see the old man accompanying him.
“Shouldn’t you be dead?”
“Since when has that stopped me from doing anything, son?”
Virgil Boone was the wizard degenerate who pulled Jake into this strange awful world to begin with and was much more the Gandalf to his Frodo than any more obvious literary allusions. Unfortunately, he was also the only other creature the gremlins treated with any degree of respect - their master before he had been torn limb from limb by the Beast in the real world and Jake had taken over the clan.
“What have you convinced my minions to do this time?”
“They called me, boy.”
Jake had been afraid of that. He feared that their reverence was the very thing keeping the crotchety b*****d in the Afterworld.
“Why?”
All gratitude he might have felt towards Virgil for saving his life was eclipsed by the bitterness he felt over what the old man had made him into.
“The gremlins want to open shop.”
This sounded entirely absurd to Jake’s ears. The Afterworld’s citizenry didn’t particularly need for any services and there wasn’t anything resembling currency - except favors, which were dangerous business among gods and monsters.
“What for?”
“I suspect they’re bored. Your previous adventures have given them a taste for excitement and productivity. They need to serve a purpose and since you refuse to reenter the world, they can’t do anything for their master.”
It felt like it had been mere months since he’d come but time worked strangely here. It could have been decades for all he knew. Jake pulled out a cigarette and began to smoke. No need for a lighter or a pack anymore. Everything he wanted was just a figment of his imagination but it was there.
“That’s none of your business.”
“I can hardly rest in peace when my student is dying.”
Jake flinched.
“I won’t die. Not really. I’ll just be stuck here like you.”
"Maybe for a time. You’ll fade away. Nothing lasts forever, even here. You know better. There is no heaven or hell, only the fading memories of those left behind. How many people out there will remember you? How long will they think about you? How long until they die. Your time is short.”
"So, it’s me then. I remember you. I’m keeping you here.”
“I suppose. There’s nobody else out there.”
The gremlins had scattered. They were sensitive creatures and could not deal with the sorrow and regrets of two men who had destroyed everything in their lives and left the world to deal with the consequences.
Grimclaw remained, despite the pain.
“Wizard hurts. Lonely.”
“I’m fine, Grim. I’ve got you twits, right?”
“Gremlins not people. Imaginary friends.”
“He’s not dumb, boy. You can’t stay here. It’s time to leave.”
“Then what? Go back to writing gossip, rumors and bullshit for pitiful wage?”
He couldn’t go back to the life he’d led before Sunset Fields, where he’d destroyed a family and massacred a town. That world didn’t need somebody like him.
“Are you dense, son? You have power now. You can do whatever the ******** you want. You want your old job back? They’ll take you, just because you asked. Fortune will bend to your favor and you can spend your days pitying yourself and reflecting on your sins in comfort.”
The old man said this with spite, his grey eyes burning.
“Or you can do what our kind do. You’ll wander the ways, punish the wicked and scorch the earth with your wrath. You’ve certainly got a lot of that.”
Neither prospect sounded appealing, but Jake knew what Virgil was talking about. The itch that burned between his fingers. The desire to use the power to do something, no matter the cost.
“That what I have to look forward to? A life of violence and hatred?”
“For all eternity if that’s what you want.”
“Why would that be any less lonely?”
Virgil grinned and the fire turned to a knowing glint.
“Because she’s still alive.”
“Bullshit.”
“She’s looking for you.”
“There’s nothing to find.”
“She knows where to look.”
Jake Barrett glared at the dead wizard Virgil Boone.
“What the ******** did you do?”
“I’m a corpse, boy. Your little friends, though, have been busy and I’m not the only ghost wandering around these days.”
Jake torqued his head to see Grimclaw trying to slink away into the warrens.
“You little ********. What have you done?”
“Leave smallthings. Paper playthings.”
His playing cards. Worn down momentos of an old friend. A deck designed for two things - cheating and illusion.
“And what the ******** is all this talk of a shop about, then?”
“Never said what the shop was for, boy. People sometimes need a magician’s services. They’ll come here in their worst nightmares. You’ll know what to do?”
“Go ******** yourself, you manipulative b*****d.”
“I’d rather get back to being dead.”
“Wizard go home. Grimclaw mind shop. Gremlins work hard.”
“You’d only ******** it up.”
“I think things will work out, son.”
“Go find yourself a shallow grave to lie in.”
The old s**t wasn’t wrong. Jake didn’t want to fade away, and if Lacey hadn’t died he needed to know why and why he had failed. He still had work to do and s**t to destroy. Maybe the gremlins would get some entertainment soon after all. The sadistic bastards loved to see things blow up.
The Afterworld had been nice to visit and get away from all the pain and horror that he had wrought, but it wasn’t a place to stay - not for a human being. Home, he thought, was where the fire was.
The weaver of nightmares pulled on his cigarette and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he decided, he was going to start a lot of fires.
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