ALONE NO MORE

by Karen Morgia

It was probably the complete lack of sound which caused the firstcrack in the wall of sleep that disturbed him. Even below ground amidthe tunnels and caverns where he and his extended family lived, therewas always some sound. But not this day.

He awoke into a world of silence; no footsteps in the tunnelwayoutside his chamber, no echo of children’s laughter, no tappingof the pipes.

His first thought was that there must be an emergency, some taskwhich needed every able-bodied person; but, if that was the case, whyhad no one awakened him?

He rose quickly and dressed, worry beginning to raise its uglyhead. Not only could he hear no sounds in the tunnels; neither couldhe sense any emotions&endash;something he had been able to do for aslong as he could remember.

All his life he had been aware of a constant hum in the back ofhis head; a warmth within his being&endash;the hum and warmth ofnumerous emotions of the people he cared for and who cared forhim.

This morning, however, that constant knowledge was lacking; itwasn’t there in his consciousness and he felt utterly and trulyalone.

His first goal was Father’s chamber…

Striding down the tunnel, Vincent neared Father’s chamber."Father? What’s…?" He stopped suddenly as he stepped to thedoorway.

Nothing was as it was supposed to be…no candles lighting theexpanse, no antique oak desk cluttered with books and maps, no stacksof beloved volumes lining the walls and numerous bookcases, no spiralstaircase. Only a silent, stone-walled emptiness.

Standing there, looking around, Vincent began to feel the oncewelcoming walls close in around him. Where was the presence that hadnurtured him as a child, guided him as an adolescent, supported himas an adult? There was no feeling in his awareness of any beinghaving inhabited the cold stony space.

He turned from the loneliness the room evoked and began wanderingfrom chamber to chamber, trying to find some indication that someone,anyone, was inhabiting the warren of tunnels where he now foundhimself.

He found no one.

Supremely puzzled, Vincent eventually found himself back in theroom where he had awoke…exactly as he had left it…hisbookcases, bed, trunk, even the stained glass window above the bed,all was as he knew it should be. Only the world outside of hischamber had changed.

All during his search, his apprehension had grown, now faced withthis further mystery, he roared with desperation. "There must be anexplanation," he muttered. He walked to the doorway of his chamber,"There must be," he yelled. The echo just bounced back at him as ittraveled down the tunnelway.

"Why?" asked a harsh, gravely voice from behind him. "Whymust there always be an answer? Just because you deem it mustbe so?"

Vincent spun around, mane flying wildly, claws ready to rend, asnarl escaping only to find no one behind him…only the continuedemptiness of his chamber. Thoroughly mystified and not a littleapprehensive, he began an exhaustive search of every nook and crannyin his chamber. Everything was as it was supposed to be; everythingin its allotted space; everything, that is, except his family.

Vincent collapsed on his bed after having searched every chamberwithin voice range, his voice range. He had gone from one tunnel toanother; from one chamber to another searching for as long as hecould before fatigue demanded that he rest. He seemed to be the onlyinhabitant of the tunnel community...none of the chambers that heexplored showed any sign of every being lived in…only hisown.

He remembered the night before, it had ended pleasantly enough; heand Diana had spent the evening in her loft sharing companionship,poetry and pizza, with a smattering of Chianti thrown it. All in all,a very enjoyable time; similar to many other times they had spenttogether in the past years cementing a friendship that had developedafter she assisted in rescuing his son, Jacob, from the hands of amad man. He had left her loft around 2 a.m., greeted the sentry onduty at the tunnel entrance, stopped at Father’s chamber to wishhim good night and went to bed after checking on his son, who nowslept in a chamber with other boys his age. Just a typicalevening.

Except when he awoke to silence.

There had to be a logical explanation for this, right? But at themoment, his tired mind couldn’t formulate one. Maybe in themorning. He lay his head on the bolster, too fatigued to even undressand was asleep almost as his head hit the pillow.

"Hey…sleeping beauty…time to get up. Get that cute tushof yours out of bed and haul a__ to the shower or there won’t beany hot water left."

Vincent awoke with a start.

Knowing what had transpired when he awoke alone and in silence theday before, he opened his eyes with alacrity as a slight weight satdown beside him on the bed. Soft lips upon his awoke him completely,and he was unable to stop himself from returning the kiss.

"Ummm! Now that’s more like it." she said, as her arms woundtheir way around his neck. "I may let you sleep late more often." Sheplaced another small peck on his lips and sighed, "But, as much as Iknow we would enjoy pursuing this, you’re supposed t join theothers on the work crew…that collapsed tunnel won’t clearitself."

"Diana?"

"Yes, dear…what is it?"

He sat up quickly and held her tightly. "Where have you been? Isearched for you, for everyone, there was no one here."

"What do you mean? I’ve been right here. So is everyone else.I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vincent."

"Yesterday…when I awoke…there was no one here. No one inthe tunnels at all except myself. The tunnels and chambers weredeserted. I searched for hours, by the time I returned here to thischamber, I was so exhausted, I fell right to sleep. But yesterday,this was the only chamber that showed that anyone lived down here atall…and there was only me."

"Oh, my sweet darling…your worst nightmare come true…tobe truly alone. Vincent, that’ll never happen; I’ll neverleave you. I’d have thought that after all this time, you’dhave begun to believe that."

"That is not the worst of it…I heard voices as well. Onevoice actually…HIM."

"Him? What do you…? Oh, you mean your alter-ego." Her browsfurrowed in confusion. "But you haven’t had any trouble with himsince before our marriage; what do you think brought him out againnow?"

Before Vincent had a chance to answer her question, in the blinkof an eye…she was gone…and so had the background noise ofwhich he had become unconsciously aware.

"How ya like my world, Bub?"

This time, when Vincent peered into the shadows of his chamber, hefound what he was looking for…or rather, what he was afraid hewould find.

"How ya doin’, fuzz-face? Long time, no see. It’s abouttime ya came to a visit." A face the twin of his own…a face ofmalice and hostility appeared from out of the shadows. "How do youlike it? Huh? One minute your surrounded by your friends and familyand the next…here, isolated and alone." The voice, at firstantagonistic, had changed, softened. "Now you know how I feel, everytime you shut me out."

"What are you doing this to me?" Vincent demanded, angrily.

"Why am I doing what to you, Vincent?"

The voice of a cherished, lost love broke through Vincent’sanger. "Vincent? What is it, beloved? Shhh! There’s no reasonfor this. Be still, my love, or you’ll tear the stitches again.You must be still."

Vincent thrashed around on the bed, trying to see the face of theone next to him on the bed. His senses told him that she was there,his mind refused to accept the possibility…she was dead;she’d died in his arms…but he wanted very much to believehis senses.

Unbelieving sapphire eyes opened slowly, to be embraced within agaze of sea-green foam, soft and warm. "Catherine…" He reachedfor her in desperation and encompassed her slight form in a franticembrace. "I thought I had lost you forever," he gasped. "Where haveyou been all this time?"

"Vincent, I don’t know what you mean…I’m righthere…I’ve been right here at your bedside for the pastthree days. Don’t you remember?" Her puzzlement was apparent tohim, so he began by recalling his memories of the past years for her.Since she had no memory of the events he was relating she becameconcerned for his state of mind. She tried to soothe his fears, butfor her, all that he related was nothing but illusion. He became moreand more agitated by his inability to convince her, and hisfrustration only added to his feelings of inadequacy. He began togroan softly in defeat, to toss and turn. His true physical conditionbecame apparent; however, when the mental and physical exertion tookits toll. He began to lose consciousness once more. His eyes closedin exhaustion as he slipped across the threshold of blackness.

"She sure is a pretty one, ain’t she?" Vincent opened hiseyes only to be greeted by the leering face of his darker brothergrinning down at him. Maybe I should pay her a visit myself. Younever left me alone with her…AND I LOVED HER, TOO!" Theapparition shook an angry fist at Vincent, then hung his head andturned away to slink from the chamber.

"Wait! Please…where did Catherine go? What is going on here?Where am I? Why are you doing this to me?"

Dark Vincent stopped in the doorway and turned back. "I’m notdoing nothin’…you are." He shook his head in despair. "Whydon’t you just go away and leave me alone so I can mourn her inpeace."

As he left the chamber, Vincent could hear him add, "She was mylast chance, and now she’s gone." The statement was followed bysuch a roar of grief, reverberating through the tunnel, that Vincentalmost believed that his darker other-self had loved Catherine aswell.

There was bird song. Why would he be hearing birds singing? Withthat thought another sensation became apparent…there wasmoisture on his face…soft and delicate. He opened his eyesslowly to be greeted by the sight of a tiny, six-legged creaturewalking up a blade of grass and just as the spotted, red carapaceopened to reveal the tiny black wings of a ladybug, he realized wherehe was…laying face first in the dew-kissed grass of CentralPark. Panic set in immediately. It was dawn and he was in the Park.The sun was just coming up and he was in the Park laying in thegrass. It was morning and someone was walking toward his locationhumming; he would be seen…the panic building in his mind wasinterrupted by a familiar voice. "Beautiful mornin’, ain’tit, Bub?"

"You! What are you doing here? Why do you keep doing this tome?"

"Doin’ what to you? I’ve done nothin’ to you.

"I cannot believe this. Where did you go?"

"When?"

"The last time I saw you, you were leaving my chamber…wheredid you go?"

"Ohhh! Well, I decided to go see our girl. Why? Do you havea problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I want you to stay away from her."

"Who?"

"Catherine."

"What makes you so certain I went to see Catherine?"

"You said you went to see ‘our’ girl, that isCatherine."

"Oh, so what’s Diana…chopped liver?"

"Diana? Who said anything about Diana?"

"I did."

"This is getting very confusing."

"Yeah, it is. Ain’t it?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you don’t seem to be able to decide one way orthe other who it is that means the most to you…Catherine orDiana. Don’t you think the ladies deserve some kind ofresolution to your wishy-washy attitude toward them? Besides,whichever of the ladies loses you, gets me. Interesting’proposition, huh?"

"I want you to stay away from both of them."

"Why? The way you’re acting you don’t want either one of‘em. Is that fair to those beautiful ladies?" Decide,brother…or I will. Decide…" The demanding voice faded awayinto nothingness, as Vincent lapsed once more into oblivion.

This time when he awoke, Vincent was in his chamber in his ownbed, covered warmly with blankets and quilts. The sounds andsensations of an occupied tunnel community had returned…or hehad…it was all very confusing. Another presence was in thechamber with him. The familiar voice of Father was near, a comfortingpresence. He seemed to be reading aloud, something he had not done inyears…not since Vincent’s illness as an adolescent.Reaching out a hand…Vincent found he was unable to doso…his wrists had been tied to the bed by cloth-wrapped ropes.He was a prisoner in his own bed. A snarl escaped as he struggled torise…

"Vincent." Startled, Father rose from his chair, dropping the bookhe had been reading. "You are awake at last. I…we have been soworried about you."

"Why am I restrained, Father? This is unnecessary, please, releaseme."

"It was for your own protection, son," Father replied, untying theknotted ropes and laying a calming hand upon Vincent’s brow."You have been violently delirious for days. It was the only way wecould keep you from doing yourself harm and still be able to treatyou. You fever is down, that is a good sign. How are youfeeling?"

"I feel quiet well. What is the reason for this? Why have I beentied to my own bed?"

"You have been quite ill, my boy. Don’t you remember? Ithappened not long after I told you about Lisa leaving to go Above tolearn dance; you became quite agitated. You ran to her chamber andwhen you found her gone, you accused me of sending her away. The nextmorning I found you lying in your bed feverish and delirious. As yourfever developed you became…it was dangerous for those of ustrying to treat you." Father hesitated to continue knowing that whathe had to say next would upset Vincent greatly. "You struck out atus, Vincent. You narrowly missed slashing Sam as he helped get yourestrained; but I was not able to move out of the way fastenough."

"What do you mean?" Vincent demanded. He took a closer look at hisfather and was shocked at what he saw. Father had a yellowing bruisealong his left cheekbone and another healing bruise along his righttemple. The largest shock was the crutch Father was leaning upon.Shame filled Vincent’s heart as he realized he must have injuredone of the most important people in his life.

"There is nothing for you to be ashamed of, Vincent. It was yourillness. You did not know what you were doing; I will be fine. Just afew bruises…already healing."

"Father…if you are fine, why are you using that crutch? Whatis it that you do not want to tell me?"

"Please, Vincent…everything is fine. Do not worryyourself…"

"Father!" Vincent’s tone was quite adamant, he would not bedenied.

"All right, Vincent, if you must know. When you struck at me, itwas with some force. I landed wrongly…on my hip…it wasdislocated. Everyone was so involved with helping you, myselfincluded, that it was not treated right away. There was somedifficulty getting it back into place." He gave a little chuckle,"That is one procedure I would gladly have foregone, but there isnothing further for you to be concerned about. It is healing fairlywell, although slowly.

"Oh, Father," Vincent moaned, closing his eyes in shame.

"See, even you are capable of violence."

Vincent opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of his darkerbrother sitting calmly in the chair that had just been occupied byFather; clawed hands folded serenely across his massive chest, alarge sneering grin upon his face. "Isn’t this fun?" heinquired.

Vincent threw aside the covers, swung long, lean, leather-cladlegs over the side of the bed and sat up to confront his mirror self."No, this has not been what I would call fun. How are you causingthese occurrences from my life? Why are you doing this?"

"I told you before, brother; I am not causing these things tohappen…you are. Interesting, huh? All the years I’ve knownyou, and you’re always complaining about being alone. Well, fora while there you were…did you like it?"

Vincent didn’t answer, just shook his head.

"I didn’t think so. Now you know how I feel…brought outto do your dirty work and stuffed back into nothingness when I’mnot wanted. Well, I don’t like it, either. What say we call atruce, huh? You let me out once in a while to share some quality timewith the ‘family’ and I won’t give you such a hardtime about the ladies. What d’ya say? Deal?"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You’re just going to have to chance it, Bro, and follow yourheart… you heart…your heart." The voice faded as…

…Vincent awoke to the voice echoing through his mind. Thoughhe couldn’t understand the words, the sense behind them seemedto be important.

"Vincent, are you there, son?"

"Yes, Father, come in."

"I was wondering if you would like to take up our game where weleft off last night? I realize that I am probably setting myself upfor another defeat, but I am confident that one of these days I shallbe victorious."

"Thank you, Father, but perhaps later. There is something I mustattend to Above. I promise not to be gone very long. We can finishthe game when I return."

"Vincent, I do wish you would not insist on these nightly foraysAbove. It is dangerous for you up there."

"I know, Father, who better, but it is the only semblance offreedom I am allowed. I cannot deny myself that freedom."

Father sighed deeply, regretting the first time he had ever givenhis permission for his most unusual son to go above into the night."Be careful, my boy. If anything were to happen to you…" Thethought remained unspoken.

Vincent placed a kiss on his father’s head as he passedthrough the entrance of his chamber and into the tunnel beyond. "Ishall be watchful. Do not worry. I will be back soon."

The night Above was clear and cool; there was no moon, so thestars seemed to sparkle with an extra brilliance. Vincent had beenrestless all day; not aware of any particular reason, but sensingthat something of great importance was about to happen…somethingthat would change his life for all time.

The sound of a car engine cut through his enjoyment of thesurrounding beauty, as he ran to hide from its approach. It haltednot far from where he was hiding in the trees, the side door slidopen and something was unceremoniously dumped on the roadside. Thedoor had not even slid shut before the van sped into the night.

Vincent drew near the mound that now lay unmoving in the wetgrass. He sensed life, but was hesitant to move closer. Carefully, heknelt beside what appeared to be a pile of rags, but as he reachedforward, a soft moan escaped the mound. It was all that was neededfor him to act.

The fabric was rich, plush, and felt like velvet. "Expensive," hemuttered. Drawing the material toward himself, Vincent turned overthe body…a woman’s body…unconscious and bleeding. Thesense of her life-force was waning rapidly, and for some unknownreason, it was very important to him that she survive. As he hoistedher slight form over his shoulder and started for the tunnelentrance, he heard a voice…a voice he recognized…

"I’m glad you finally made up your mind. Now, neither one ofus will ever be truly along again. That wasn’t really so hard,now, was it?" The voice began to fade away, "See ya around,Bro…take care of her…this time."

Dreams…dreams of the future, dreams of the past, dreams ofwhat would be, what might be, what could be. Who can say what it wasthat Vincent experienced, he certainly couldn’t; but as hecontinued down through the tunnel system that housed the hiddencommunity of his extended family, he realized how right the voicewas…there would always be someone there for him, no matter whatthe future might hold…he would never really be alone again.

Written December (?) 1997. Submitted/published - Flame and ShadowXIV, April 1998, by Flame and Shadow Press, Gloria Handley,Editor.