Take My Hand (273 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryLabels: ETS_Short_Stories
Rating: 0 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (View user info) at 2005-07-19 11:32:59 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
The manor was within view when Aleister stopped in the street. Its portico dangled lifelessly over the darkened entrance like the mouth of a minacious beast - cold and cadaverous - dead and dirgeful - like still winds over a nameless tomb. Old vines dangled like shadowy strands of rotten sinew, covering the columns of its rickety, wooden teeth. This didn't look like the place spoken about on the card, he thought, as he double-checked the address: 37 Hazel Bend.
To his astonishment, this was the right place.
A few careful and diffident steps later, he had passed through the beastly mouth of the portico, and found himself trembling slightly before a large, imposing door. Iron gargoyles watched over the entrance like a pair of ancient argus, and in his mind's eye, Aleister thought for a moment he saw them crawling and sliding along the casement - eyes bulging outward toward him.
The card had given clear instructions not to knock. "Just come in," it said, "you're always welcome here." Aleister didn't feel at all welcome, and, out of the creeping foreboding now growing in the pit of his stomach, he almost decided to turn back - but, as it is wont to do, the curiosity of the mind often speaks louder than its caution, and Aleister peeled the door open slowly.
"Hello?"
Aleister's trembling voice echoed through the beast's dusty guts, and the odor of untold ages stabbed his nostrils as he strained to see inside.
A faint, red glow down the hallway ahead drew him further in as a sudden chilly draft rushed past, creaking the door gently shut behind him. Aleister felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand immediately on end. Briefly he remembered being told as a child that this happened because someone has just walked upon your grave, as he continued toward the light.
The end of the hallway opened into an opulent room with plush red velvet and golden fringe that seemed to cover everything. All around him, the whirr of human activity arouse as if from nowhere, and soothed away his tremulous thoughts.
Men dressed in their evening finest - button-down vests and bowties, long-tailed coats and 24ct. gold cuff links - stood puffing cigars and chatting felicitously. The women, on the other hand, were flowing ornaments of lace and tassel - draped in ritzy fabrics and adornments so magnificent as to almost be bordering on the theatrical. Cocktail waitresses brought drinks to posh-looking gentlemen sitting at poker tables who tipped them in chips and flirted unabashedly - hands on their fannies.
In another corner, a roulette wheel spun 'round rapidly as eager onlookers reveled in the prospect their potential winnings. A juggler made his way through the room, to the delight of several spectators, tossing some number of cocktail glasses in the air that could not be determined.
Aleister breathed a sigh of relief. So this was a casino after all; one never would have guessed by standing on the street. With an air of newfound confidence, Aleister sat down at one of the Blackjack tables alongside a man dressed in modest clothing. Across the table, the dealer smiled and welcomed Aleister to the game.
"Good evening, Sir, feel free to enter the game at any time."
The dealer then pushed what must have been a thousand chips across the table.
"I'm sorry. There must be some mistake. I can't afford this many chips."
"That's quite all right, Sir. The chips and the games are compliments of Mr. Lovecraft. Feel free to enter the game at any time."
With that, Aleister pushed in his bet and received his cards - immediately, an ace of hearts and an ace of diamonds.
"I'll split," said Aleister as he doubled his bet.
"Very well, Sir. Good luck." The dealer smiled and proceeded to turn over two queens, completing the double blackjack.
"HEY! Isn't that something! First hand too! Must be beginner's luck." Aleister turned to the other modestly dressed gentleman at the table, who'd also won his hand.
"Congratulations. You don't see that often. If only winning were always that easy, right..."
"Tell me about it. I guess it's a little easier to play the hand you've been dealt when it's a winning one." Aleister quipped, a little proud at his sudden display of wit.
"My name's Hewitt. Nice to meet you." The modestly dressed man extended his hand.
"You too, friend. The name's Aleister."
The two shook hands and exchanged conventionalities. Then, for what seemed like minutes, but must have been several hours thereafter, the two men each continued to amass a small fortune in chips while they discussed the ins and outs of their individual lives. Aleister learned that, like him, Hewitt had been lured to this place by an invitation he'd received unexpectedly in the mail, and, like him, Hewitt was a man of modest means - far removed from the apparent wealth of the rest of the casino's patrons.
As is custom with budding friends, the two exchanged phone numbers and decided they'd have to get together again sometime to have a beer and celebrate their massive winnings.
Two more hours flew by as the pair grew ever more heady with the incredible run of luck into which they'd fallen. Win after win, blackjack after blackjack, it seemed as if the hands they'd been dealt in life were taking a dramatic turn for the better right before their eyes.
Finally in the wee hours of the morning, as they were changing their chips, preparing to leave, a messenger approached them and informed them that Mr. Lovecraft would like to meet them both. Aware how casinos can often be a touch hostile toward those that win with incredible frequency, the two men stood for a moment understandably leery at what might come of this meeting. But, seeing how they had little option in the matter, the pair followed the messenger up a flight of stairs just off the casino floor to a balcony above. They were then lead to the door of a dimly lit room. The messenger ushered them in, and then left without saying another word.
The vague silhouette of a man behind a desk briefly illuminated as he puffed on a cigar. Neither Aleister, nor Hewitt knew what to say, and thought it best to remain quiet until addressed.
"So, Mr. McGregor...Mr. O'Riley...you've had a good time tonight in my casino, I trust?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you for the invitations, sir. We were just talking downstairs about wanting to meet the man who..."
"Really? That's good, cause I too have wanted to meet the both of you." Lovecraft cut them off.
"To what do we owe this pleasure, Sir? Why have you brought us here?" Hewitt asked.
"You are men of modest means, no? Until now, neither of you have ever had the luxuries that other men have enjoyed and yet taken for granted, no?" Puzzled, the two men looked at one another. "We all go through life playing the hand we've been dealt, gentlemen. Few of us are ever truly able to rise above that station and create another hand. Tonight was about helping the both of you do just that. After tonight, neither of you will ever be the quite the same again..." He paused. "You both have made life-altering sums of money, no?"
"Yes, sir. We've both done very w..."
"Good...good," Lovecraft again interrupted, "I trust that neither of you will ever speak a word of this place to anyone and that you will now both go out into the world and play the new hand you've been dealt on this evening. You are free to go."
Aleister started, "Sir, again we just want to thank you for..."
"I said you are free to go."
With that, the two men went home and slept in their beds, which somehow felt warmer, somehow more comfortable than ever before, and slept the deepest, most relaxing sleep of their lives...
Lovecraft was right. After several weeks it had become obvious that Aleister's life had changed. Even his own family now treated him differently. Sometimes the differences were pleasant. Sometimes they were disturbing. Overall, there was an abiding feeling something was not quite right, but he could never quite put a finger on what it was. But, in any case, the freedom of not having to work at that same old job anymore was a tradeoff Aleister was more than willing to accept.
Then, one night the phone rang. It was Hewitt.
"Aleister, it's nice to hear your voice. Look, buddy, we need to talk. Can you meet me at the Golden Goose on Grandview in an hour?"
"Sure." Aleister tried to say more, but by then Hewitt had hung up the phone.
--
Now the Goose is quiet...good place for a drink and a talk. The two men exchange conventionalities like the partial strangers they really are, but after this brief introduction to their meeting, Hewitt wastes no time getting to the point.
"Aleister, something is happening to me." His face is desperate and earnest, and in his eyes Aleister can see the look of one who had seen the transparency of something solid - the reality behind some elaborate façade.
"Dude, are you ok? You look like shit!"
"I think something terrible is going to happen to me."
"What's going on? You're starting to scare me."
"I keep having these dreams..." Hewitt lowers his voice to a whisper and leans in close to the table, eyeing the people around them like an argus. "I keep having these dreams, but they're more like visions... It's like I can see the future... I am drowning in this river, and you come along and hold out your hand... 'Take my hand' you say. I see your face. It's definitely you. It's you in the vision. Then I see myself reaching out my hand. All I see after that is black, like I'm underwater, and I wake up choking."
"Hewitt, we all have bad dreams, man. Is this what's bothering you? Maybe you should see a psychiatrist. Look, I know someone who will..."
"This is NOT IN MY FUCKING..." Hewitt stops and realizes he is shouting, looks around for a second, then continues in a whisper: "This is not in my fucking head. Look, I might have said the same thing, but for the water."
"Water? What Water?"
"The water in my fucking lungs! I cough it up whenever I have the visions. It's there. It's fucking real. It even tastes like river water. All this shit started that night we went to that casino. I know that asshole that runs it knows something. He did something to me, Aleister! He did something to both of us; I know it! And it's only a matter of time before you see it too!"
"Look, Hewitt, would it make you feel any better if we went back down to that casino together and spoke to that Lovecraft guy? Would that ease your mind?"
"I don't know if it would ease my mind, but I definitely have some questions for him."
"Look, I'll tell you what, let's just go down there right now. I've still got my invitation in my glove box. It says on it that I'm welcome anytime."
"Me too. Got mine right here in my pocket..."
--
It's a short drive to the address on the card - 37 Hazel Bend - only, when they arrive, the pair cannot believe their eyes...
Where the portico with its beastly mouth should be, there is an iron gate.
Where the iron gargoyles should be: a mausoleum.
Where the casino floor should be: a cluster of headstones.
As the two men read the inscription on the first stone in the cluster, their hearts sink into confusion...
HOWARD PHILLIPS LOVECRAFT
Born: August 20th 1890
Died: March 15th 1937
A little dusting of the stone with their hands reveals an epitaph.
"Ye stranger who passeth by,
as you are now, so once was I.
As I am now, so you must be,
so take my hand and follow me."
This ghastly reality, neither man wants to face, neither man wants to believe - but as the two of them walk deeper into the misty graveyard around them, they stumble across something that no earthly man is ever meant to find:
HEWITT EIN MCGREGOR
Born: April 17th 1974
Died: July 19th 2005
Drowned
ALEISTER EDWARD O'RILEY
Born: October 12th 1975
Died: July 19th 2005
Drowned
User Reviews
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-08-11 15:31:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I don't really expect this to affect you personally. I just want to voice my disagreement with your ratings.
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-10-28 05:45:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
retaliatory +2