《The House of Arthur Fletch (RRCM Jan. 25)》 Chapter 1 ¡°The death of Doctor Arthur Fletch is continuing to bring countless questions.¡± Bzzt zzt. ¡°As you can see behind me, there is no longer any doubt about his state. Some still call it a conspiracy.¡± Gzzt bzt. ¡°Others still doubt that Doctor Fletch is dead. However his body is now on display throughout tonight''s service, he will be buried after¡­¡± Krkrkrkrkrkrkr. ¡°Ah, come on¡­ Sis is going to be pissed if the lights go out.¡± Tnk ¡°Shiiii¡­¡± Barry knew what sound would come next, he covered his ears early. The door was like thunder in sound, and lightning in speed. The doorknob caught just a little of the crescent moon''s light from the window as it swung. ¡°Barry, in the name of the wings, get a candle.¡± ¡°Gaz, stop slamming the door.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me Gaz, I¡¯m your big sister, call me by my name Giselle. You wouldn¡¯t call me Gaz with the lights on, hurry. I need to find the Gas torch.¡± Barry clambered around, if he remembered right there was a candle on the coffee stand just in front of him. He found it in the dark, a little melted. It was a cheap candle, and just holding it wax started to get on his hands. ¡°There is no lighter over here,¡± Barry said. ¡°Do you not keep a few matches on you?¡± Barry only had a few; matches weren¡¯t cheap on the turn of fall. ¡°Hurry up, Grifter is going to go nuts if he wakes up in the dark,¡± Giselle said. Barry sighed, sparking the match, on his thumbnail. The candle was lit and Barry could see his sister, she was overly tanned as always trying to make someone point. You don¡¯t have money for a real vacation because you spend it on fake tans. Barry thought in silence of course, he didn''t want a beating.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. He held the candle up and it was snatched quickly from his hand. Oversized fake nails catching his wrist. His big sister marched off like there was a mission around the corner. ¡°Wait, wait. What do you need the Gas torch for?¡± Barry asked. ¡°I¡¯m going to go speak to the neighbors. This was never a problem till the new Blue-Gas system was built alongside the Steam pipes.¡± Giselle said. ¡°That isn¡¯t the neighbor''s fault¡­ Blue Gas¡­¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± She said, Tnk. unnnk. The Blue-Gas picture box took a little longer than the lights, it came back on just in time for Giselle to see the news her brother was watching. ¡°I will have to sign off for the night as I am attending tonight''s event and tomorrow''s burial. I have to say it''s a privilege to be welcomed to take part, as I was a fan like many others. I will see you guys tomorrow night. I¡¯m sure there will be a lot more to say about Dr. Fletch.¡± The one hosting the news was Barry¡¯s fast female news anchor, famed for her assets. ¡°You are still watching that stuff¡­¡± Giselle asked. ¡°Well, it''s about Dr. Fletch¡­¡± Giselle turned to the back of the room placing the candle on the nightstand. The only piece of furniture their leaf-dog had yet to rip apart. ¡°What about Dr. Fletch¡­ He is dead, you already know.¡± ¡°Sis, don¡¯t you want to know what happened to him.¡± Barry asked. It was a question that haunted him, it was more personal than their neighbors would ever know. ¡°Stop going on about it, people more qualified than us have been all over the case for weeks.¡± ¡°But, sis, you worked with Dr. Fletch, we both learned from him. Do you think something like this could just¡­ Happen, why would the Doctor¡­ Die like that.¡± Giselle lifted her hand from the candle, knocking it to the, the clattering sound was high-pitched in its ring. A barking started, if there was one thing a leaf-dog didn¡¯t like it was high pitches. It came running, the pooch with wooden paws, green ears, and a mouth just for show and sound. It barked and bounced around, tracking mud with its feet. ¡°What do you think we should do then, collect new reports; or break into the police station? Find out what we can before getting arrested.¡± Giselle said. Picking up the candle as Barry tended to the pup. ¡°We know where his house is, I think we should go in. Nothing bad will come of it, after all, we knew the man well. Right?¡± ¡°What would we do with Grifter, take him along.¡± Giselle asked her brother who held the leaf-dog. ¡°Yeah. It should be fine. It''s been a while since Grift went out at night.¡± ¡°Fine, but you don¡¯t need Blue-Gas running to the box, aye,¡± Giselle said. Showing her brother she still had prowess. Her bleached hair was a flag as she leaped over the couch, where Barry spent most of his time. Her feet slid across the coffee table that was stained and chewed. Her toes in her bright green socks pushing against the lever of the pipe that connected to the screen. The Blue-Gas faded and the screen grew dimmer, till it died; no fuzz or flicker. ¡°What¡¯d you do that for? I could have turned it off if you asked.¡± Barry asked. ¡°Hm, I studied Steam and Gas under Dr. Fletch while you pick at your fingers in class. I pay for the rent; I''m the one that turns the levers.¡± She was at the door, ushering Barry along before he could respond, but he did let the chance go by as they passed under blue street lights. ¡°You could get a better job if you stopped dyeing your hair,¡± Barry said. His words in a mumble while he was crouched, pulling Grifter away from dirt; Other than the sun and liquid meat it was a leaf-dog''s favorite snack. ¡°I like my look more than cash. Besides I have the job I want, what more could I ask? If you want more money I hear Taleahase is hiring.¡± Gisselle said with a laugh. ¡°The candy shop? Why would I work at a candy shop?¡± ¡°Well, all you do right now is eat candy and sit on your ass.¡± The night was silent but their banter and laughs. Occasionally a blue light would flicker, a problem that was far from being solved. Their walk was not long, the moon did not move. The little town had less space than people, and more people than they knew what to do. There was only one place of pride, it had been that way for thirty years. The manor of Arthur Fletch, despite his fame it was bare. It was reversed in decoration from how his parents had it, as it was Dr Fletch¡¯s strange taste. The outside walls were painted like Shingle and tile, while the shingle and tiles were painted like a fence. The fence around the property was not the properties but the authorities. Linked and locked and caged away. ¡°Well, shall we go in?¡± Barry asked. ¡°It¡¯s your feet that are moving slowly, make sure to grab Grift, don¡¯t let him bark. And move quiet.¡± Chapter 2 Getting into the house was easy. A high metal fence locked the place down, but with just a hop over, they had access to the building¡ªand the garage, though they had no interest in that. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Giselle said. She reached out and grabbed the Grifter, the family leaf dog. With the dog out of hand, Barry was able to climb over the fence. It rattled as his pant legs dragged on the metal links. Giselle put Grift down. The little thing did leaf-dog things. An odd sight if you grew up around a normal dog; his little toenails became pins that dug into the dirt. The dirt disappeared in his back. His ears were small, growing in size, storing sap his body was making from new dirt he hadn¡¯t seen before. ¡°Gaz, letting him eat is a bad idea. Grift likes to be noisy when he is full.¡± Barry said, struggling as his pants were stuck to a spike part of the fence. ¡°Oh, come on, it¡¯ll be fine.¡± Grift¡¯s eyes grew wide as his ears got bigger. ¡°You¡¯re the one making noise right now,¡± Giselle said. She had to help Barry, a grown man, get loose from the fence¡¯s finger. The crescent moon of the night was lighting the backyard, its vivid blue leaving bending shadows as they approached the door. Giselle led, reaching for the black-painted door handle. With a pop, it was open. The two together stepped in, Grifter pulling dirt along behind. The inside was normal, as far as normal could be. Enough light to see without grabbing the Gas torch that was always left of the door inside. In the same direction, to that left, was a living room; Bare, empty for its size, with a piano and a cushion for one to rest or play. No Blue Gas picture box, it is well known Dr Fletch had no interest in them. ¡°It¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it? The doctor helped discover Blue Gas and its use but hates it with all his heart¡­¡± Barry said. Before that room was the hall, the entryway that stretched to the door at the back, moonlight coming through the glass windows on the door. Stairs just before the living room, of course, all townhouses with a second floor had that fixture.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. To the right was a dinner room, decorated far better. And beyond it to the back of the house, an archway to the kitchen. Giselle touched the railing to the stairs. She had a slight shiver; it was cold. It was late at night during fall, after all. As she looked up, too dark, a place she had no interest to explore. The room of a dead man, and his ¡®murdered¡¯ mother and father. Barry wandered to the dining room, where something caught his eye, a picture frame high on a shelf. It was far up on the wall, above a bookcase that was painted green, holding plates and other pictures, trophies, and roads. No interest in this or that, just that one at the top. He reached up, standing on his toes tips, looking a little drunk while trying to grab the picture frame. As his two owners stared at the dark picture, Grift sniffed the air, looking for a mud box like the one at home. There was nothing like compost or even rotten meat after four paw-fulls of dirt. Giselle went to the living room to reminisce and wander. Barry got the picture after a fight, looking at the people in the picture. It was a strange time in their life the picture was taken, a decent but sad one. After their parents passed, an Airship accident was a common thing fifteen years ago. Dr Fletch lost his mother and father in the same way. That brought about his first invention, then eleven more, all to help with airship safety to prevent crashes. At the right of the picture were two kids, young, a girl with bleach blonde hair and a rich tan, giving a bright smile. At her feet was a boy half her size, pale and sickly, with dark hair; They only shared their dark eyes. Nine kids plus the two were in the frame, all orphans of the small town of 2000 people. Each lost their parents in a similar way. At the center of the frame, an adult taller than the rest, with dark-brown hair, round glasses, and a little feminine in the face; Dr Fletch without a smile, a normal sight, his eyes empty to the present, lost in thought. ¡°Where is Grifter?¡± Giselle said. The sound made Barry jump, his neck and knees locked. Barry sighed, saying nothing about the shock. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± They heard panting pass by in the dark close to the floor, then tapping root toes. ¡°Barry, grab him before he makes a mess.¡± Barry placed down the picture frame, turning back to the entryway. It was too late to prevent a mess, mud was tracked on the floor, down the entry hall to the right, and to the kitchen around. To the dining room, he passed them, then up the stairs. Giselle grabbed the picture, listening to the stairs creak. She touched the frame, looking at the girl and two geeks, both the kids and the man. Thinking of times both good and bad. Dr Fletch was a complex man, to say the least, always a leap away even when she was standing by his side. That¡¯s why she did not doubt the narrative the news sold, which was true. Or was it the rambles of the drunks in the street after work that was right? His death was never a normal thing, diseases, injury. No, it was always murder, suicide, or death from ¡®cult activities¡¯. She placed the picture back on the shelf with little trouble, finding the book Barry placed the frame on. One of the Doctors¡¯ failed ambitions; a book of great mind and vision. The cover read, ¡°Why Do I Experience¡±, leather-bound, dried, and cracked. Her curiosity made her pick it up and flip to the very back. Barry¡¯s adventure up the stairs was quick, with one or two slips on muddy paw prints. Holding the Gas torch which he had to use another match to light. ¡°Grift, come here! I¡¯ll get you some crows blood¡­¡± Barry said in a whispered shout. A hallway with a bend to the left the shape didn¡¯t fit the house. Only one door was open where the mud stopped. The first to the right, Barry was quick to make the turn. A bare room with a bed painted murals on all the walls, and a window letting enough light in to see the dog. Lap, lap, lap. Grift was licking away at the clean, carpeted floor. Barry grabbed the pup and back out into the hall, moving the torch to his left hand. Something was off, different in the hall from before. A shadow stood where no person did, no one should have been in. No door made a noise, and each was latched, painted red, perhaps there was another room down the hall¡¯s bend, but a room could not fit, no. The shadow was still, a man tall. Barry turned to see the surprise window in the hall. It was just him, his shadow, he hoped. There was nothing behind, not even a shelf or picture frame. That window was just a false hope that the mind tried to draw. Then he looked at the torch in his hand. It was just a trick of the eye and an illusion that spooked him made by his own hand. It stood tall in the light, made from the dark. Ruff ruff ruff! Three barks in Barry¡¯s ear. He looked down at Grift; it was not him. The dog had his full, plump ears perked up; looking around. Grift swung a muddy wood paw, and for the first time in his life, he gave Barry a scratch. Barry let go and Grift ran forward and started to lap. Lick lick lick. Getting closer to the shadow. Grift walked through it, over it, licking it on the ground, his tongue the only sound around. The shadow overlapped above and underneath. But when the torch moved, it was still no change in shape. It stood still and tall in the dark hall. Broad in shoulders, never did it shrink or grow. Do shadows have mouths? Barry had to ask himself. The shadow began to flow, its mouth becoming wide, no teeth, no lips, but he saw what he saw. It looked like it was about to sing, its mouth wide. ¡°Haaaaaa!¡±, A sigh. A warm wind brushed Barry¡¯s left side. Chapter 3 One only knows the real cold when one feels a chill in one¡¯s soul. For the first time, Barry felt a real shiver. He raised his hand with the torch still in it, a red mark on his arm from Grifter¡¯s escape. There was nothing at his side or behind him, only the shadow in front of the dog trying to eat it. Barry looked a little longer, distracting him from the heat on his ear. The mouth grew more, singing another sigh, and Barry felt real fear. ¡°Grift, come on boy,¡± Barry said, wanting to run down the stairs to his sister¡¯s arms. He tried to wave his arm to call over the dog. The torch, still in his hand, touched his ear. ¡°Ah!¡± Barry shouted, pulling his hand away. The shadow changed again, three eyes, then two, to one, but shadows had none. It grew in the torchlight as it flew around, laying over the dog. Barry¡¯s foot stepped back, his foot finding a patch of mud. He wanted to run forward, grab his little friend, and turn to run, but it was the mud his pup brought in that was his downfall. Not truly, just a slip. But the stairs were not kind. When compared the Giselle, Barry was not quick. Bang, bunk bunk bunk. The railing only saved him from falling over the edge, not from the vertical descent. I should go back up, I can leave little Grift. Barry thought before he was back upright, his knee in his own face, the torch¡¯s hot head on his chest. He leaped up, not to his feet but around to his ass, pushing the torch forward while he slide back. His legs kicking fast. His head hit the wall right next to the door. The torch twirled on the floor. From that angle, even though he was so far back, he could see up the stairs. The torch lighting the top every third second on a count of three. A shadow was there on the top stair before the turn. Six arms, then none, last on four. The torch stayed, with luck aiming up, four arms turned the legs as it hunched forward. A dog in shape but it was not Grifter, it was a real hound with sharp ears and flesh for a body. Tall, still, now muscular with razor teeth, and two eyes, one always on the light. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Its tongue flapped out, rolling down the stairs, bouncing at each step. More tongues grew from its back and a tail grew to a whip. It was just a shadow, but Barry saw what he saw. Torch in hand, he rolled and ran. Giselle was not in the dining room or living room to his right; she did not come up the stairs. The shadow was not hers; She was no expert in shadow mimicry, so to the kitchen Barry ran. His run was more of a crawl, too scared to stand, thinking he would fall. He rolled at the end of the hall like Grifter doing his favorite trick, other than shaking his paw. Barry saw his sister in the light of the windows. He reached for the cupboards at his side, pulling himself up by the handles of the kitchen drawers. ¡°Sis, we gotta go!¡± Barry said. Giselle lifted her head from the books she was reading. Not understanding why her little brother was in such a panic. She heard the noise. In truth, it was nothing new. It was Barry, after all; Though she was a little annoyed that Grifter barked. ¡°Did you see someone here or something?¡± She asked, looking back down at the book. ¡°No, there is something in this place.¡± He said. She looked up again. He was stumbling around like he had a drink, using the edge of the sink to support him. A great light from the big window showed the backyard and the moon highlighting the shock on his face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Did you find Grifter?¡± She asked, pulling down the book to below her chin. Her voice was a kind of song, a home to Barry. She had no panic; she did know the need for it. Barry was a little jumpy. It was nothing new. The moon was electric, and the kitchen window seemed larger the closer Barry got to his sister. He shoved his hand forward in his rush. The torch slipping free, rolling on the ground. Its light was bright and easy to find. The torch at the Doctor¡¯s door was not cheap, lasting long with a little gas. Barry¡¯s shadow followed behind him, and his sisters'' behind her reached across the kitchen. His hand palms on her on her shoulder. The force of his fear made her close the book¡ªshe was not quite done; she wanted to read the back few pages; at least get an understanding of the cover. Giselle squeezes the book tight, her thumb still on the pages. Her hand caught the counter, a wooden set in the room¡¯s center, pressing more pressure on her thumb. She put her eyes on her, sharp and tired; she was about to scream ¡®dumb¡¯. ¡°We have to get out of here, there is something in this house!¡± Barry said. He left Giselle wordless, her face going soft. She believed his words until he dashed behind her, they both heard a noise, a shaking, and a ring. Barry pulled his hands away, covering his chest as he got behind Giselle. His stature lowered as he walked backward, finding the wall that was not far from his sister¡¯s back. Giselle released the book now that she had a chance, but the foot that was moving as she leaned over on the counter found something. A paint can half empty, a second Bong! Filled the room as the ringing from the hall continued. Barry jumped hard, his back hitting the wall that sounded like a drum. He tried to back away more, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°No.¡± He said, not believe the reality. His sister simply watched, groaning about her thumb and foot. The source of the ringing came around the corner, the tapping of small feet scratching the floor following. It entered the light, Grifter, the leaf-dog with his paws painted red. The little dog left paw prints, but that was nothing new. It was the color that made Barry push his head on the wall at his back. The dog stopped moving after walking into the light, his colored tags shining just a bit of moonlight. From the ceiling, it crawls behind the pup. It was a blob. Then it took forming, changing as it grew, a shadow in the light. Four arms grew, each with a hand four clawed. It grabbed the light where it could, crawling on the ceiling and walls. Two arms released, and it fell before the window in a slow descent, with two legs growing. It was now a man before the two kids, their dog at his side. The shadow turned his head, as if curious about the world. Barry moved back, and as he reached out a hand, he snapped, trying to call Grifter over; the dogs stepping forward. Only to let out one piercing bark in the silence. Giselle was stunned by what she saw, her foot finding a path behind the paint can she was prepared to leave, forgetting his place existed. She was prepared to forget about it before. The shadow looked at the dog at its side, its head-turning harder as it fell to all fours. Its teeth grew to be railroad spikes inside a snouted face and talon-like claws. Shadows did not have features, yet they saw what they saw. A giant beast, a dog of some type, stood beside their puppy, their pet. It began to bark while walking forward. Barry could not hold himself any longer. He turned and ran as hard as he could. The world never forgot he was clumsy and felt the need to remind him. He turned and ran towards the torch in the dining room connected to the kitchen by an archway. Barry slipped and fell, finding his shoulder slamming the display he first looked at when he arrived. The picture he was looking at fell, slamming on the ground along with a dozen other things. The display slid forward, hitting the far wall. The torch slipped away from his hand as he winced. His sister was at his side faster than he ever knew, trying to get him to his feet; no luck. ¡°Useless at a time like this, come on Barry!¡± she said, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but her heart was out of her chest in panic. A feeling she had only ever felt twice; Her parents passing, and the news of the Doctor¡¯s death. The torch faced the shadow, its stature more defined, sandwiched between two lights. It stood, no longer flat as shadows were. Barry kicked his feet as he got to a crouch. The torch spun towards them and, as he got taller, Barry noticed the wall was strange. There was a seam along his hand¡¯s path and a little knob near his eye. He pushed it, and it opened. ¡°We can go in here,¡± Barry said. His words were useless as Gisselle had already acted. The moment she saw the opening swing, her brother was thrown beyond the door¡¯s passage. She followed, slamming the door close with her shoulder. They had no time to breathe and Barry was on the floor again; they were at the top of a staircase, one that did not exist before. And what little breath that had was being stolen. ¡°Who is there? Who snuck down into the basement?¡± A voice from beyond the door said. The voice was of the deceased Doctor Arthur Fletch. Chapter 4 Dust tried to choke them, but they held it in. The smell of mortar took their noise while particles of plaster turned to a soft clay once again in their mouths. ¡°How did you get in there¡­¡± the voice said. ¡°Teach¡­¡± Giselle started to say, but Barry reached out and grabbed his sister. They could see very little. The only light was a purple and brown glow from below. He pulled his sister back, with all his effort half on the ground, teary-eye he shook his head. Giselle gulped, shedding a tear herself, one for the times passed. She missed them or feared she would forget; She did not know which. ¡°Teacher, is something wrong?¡± A woman¡¯s voice spoke. One that made both Barry¡¯s and Giselle¡¯s eyes pop. It was a voice they knew too well. Then sounds filled the building beyond the wall. ¡°No, no, I think I am just hearing things come. Let¡¯s finish everything up before the rest of the class gets here. It¡¯s a reunion celebration, not a preparation party.¡± The Doctor said, his voice calm but distant as it always was. They listened beyond the wall to the chattered, clapping and cheering, inside jokes they knew and understood well. It sent chills down their spine. The sound of celebration stopped with a loud bang, a person falling, and the shout of another. ¡°Teacher. What¡¯s wrong!¡± the voices called from beyond the door. ¡°Quick, someone. He has no pulse, his heart has stopped. Someone get my little brother here. He can help.¡± The woman said, weeping, pushing her tongue down her throat. A silence returned, eerie and old as a space, an utter silence that made the other sense jump. A reminder to wake up, a reminder of existence. Giselle looked back, the dust in the air gathering on the liquid spilling from his eyes, nose, and mouth. She nodded to Barry and then nodded down the stairs. They could see little of the steps beyond the edge of the purple glow. The two slid forward, Barry stared at his hands, already missing his dog but too scared to speak of it. Each step was a risk in the dark, a path down to a place they could not know or see. They reached a plateau, a larger step, they could see its reamed edge in gray, the rest was dark; they leaned toward the center to see each other. It only got brighter the lower they went. ¡°What was it?¡± Barry said. ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°That, you know, that up there, what we heard, I thought I heard¡­ I mean the reunion we were going to have a few days ago¡­ Before the news.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°that¡¯s not possible!¡± Giselle said. Her hands found the young man¡¯s collar in the dark. She pulled him tight, calming herself while scaring her young brother. ¡°Sis, sis, stop¡­¡± She let go sliding back, watching her brother trying to pull her head from the cloud that it was stuck in. Barry crouched, holding his head, almost in tears. ¡°We left Grifter. I have to go back, sis.¡± He said. ¡°No, just wait. It will be morning in just a few hours. Let¡¯s see if we can find a place to sleep. I don¡¯t know what it is, but there is some type of light below. Perhaps the Doctor was working on a new type of gas¡­ A purple gas. Just like Blue Gas.¡± Giselle said. Her demeanor changed quickly. She walked over to her brother before he stood. He was not one to think. She had to think for him; What use would he be if the Teacher collapsed? But he was not as foolish as his sister thought. He was at least observant; How long have you called him ¡®The Doctor¡¯ since he died? They nodded their heads to each other, each having a little shake in the legs as they leaned on each other. Going down a few steps. ¡°Sis, how many steps do you think are here? We¡¯ve been going for a few minutes now,¡± Barry said. It was longer than that; just a few minutes ago he started counting. What was stranger was the closer they got to the light, the further from the source they seemed. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ Your imagination.¡± IT was getting bright, a tiny bit after around ninety steps they could see a little more. That was the number of steps before each larger corner step that prompted their turn. Have we been turning left or right this whole time? Barry felt like something was off, they changed direction yet were walking the same way. ¡°Is there such a thing? Direction, I mean. Truly?¡± Barry turned his head and looked around. His exaggerated movements easily caught his sister¡¯s attention. ¡°What are you doing?¡± She said. ¡°I thought I heard something, unless it was you, did I say that out loud?¡± He said. Giselle half-wanted to ignore him, her hand rubbing her face, while others found his shoulder. ¡°Perhaps we should take a break, I doubt we will run into anything like that again. It was probably just our imagination making it worse. Just because we saw something strange does not mean it exists.¡± She said. ¡°Don¡¯t they?¡± Barry watched his sister flinch, she heard a voice as well. Her smile remained, and it calmed Barry as she was hoping it would. We had this conversation before, in the teacher¡¯s class, his first lesson. How long ago was that, before I learned about steam power, before Blue-Gas was in every house and apartment? Giselle kept her thoughts to herself. ¡°Wait, before we stop there is something up there, isn¡¯t there¡± Barry said, his finger stretching an oddly painted panel on the wall. It was just the right color to stand out under the small amount of purple light. Barry walked forward first from his sister¡¯s hand; It was she who followed for the first time. ¡°Stop, you don¡¯t know what¡­¡± she said. Her words found her tongue to be a fence, stuck when she got a closer look. It was a red door in the lights, and if her memory served her right, what was on the other side of the door was the room they left. Giselle turned and looked up only to see a spiraling dark, but she had no doubt. It was the door they passed from the other side, but far from where they started. Barry stopped his steps and pointed out another, a door identical to the one before. The same door on different walls. ¡°Where could they lead¡ªwe are this far down, this is deeper than most of the old mines just outside of town,¡± Barry said, exposing he used to sneak out. ¡°Sis, come on.¡± Barry reached up and pulled her down, perhaps he had eyes but he was not one for thinking. He may have been smart and had learned from the best, but he was not the brightest. ¡°Why would something like this be in his family home?¡± Giselle said, the words slipped from her, ¡°What even is this Doctor¡­¡± As her lips moved and her body sighed, she missed Barry¡¯s actions for such a reason he was quick to grab the door. It opened with a creak. ¡°You¡­¡± But there was nothing more to say and nothing to see. It was day beyond the door, bright light through windows of the Dining room of the Fletch family house. Long owned by the only child and son of the parents who passed in an airship accident. They could see on the table not far from the door in that dining room they ran from, a newspaper they once owned; six years ago, that is. It had a headline: ¡°A Young Genius Changes Transportation Forever in Memory of His Parents.¡± and below the headline a picture of a young man in his mid-twenty, yet to have his famous facial hair. Barry dropped everything he was doing, running up the stairs. ¡°Stop it, Barry, something is not right.¡± ¡°That is why I am checking¡­¡± He said, running ahead. He opened the door they were just at. As it swung open, the situation was something different. A shaved man with a silver tie and combed hair dropped the mug that was at his lips. ¡°Who are you!?¡± He said, shocked beyond belief. ¡°Ack!¡± he stood quick trying to get the coffee off his pants. ¡°Dr. Fletch?¡± Barry asked. He had to know he looked like the man he knew with a shave and a different style. ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t know who you are but I am no Dr, even if my name is Fletch. Mom, Dad, is this some kind of prank because I spent the night?¡± Giselle ran up hearing the voice, as she stepped into the door¡¯s frame, the Doctor stepped out. ¡°What do you mean? Why are you shouting?¡± A woman said. Giselle and Barry had seen pictures of the doctor¡¯s parents multiple times and there she was in the flesh, though she had long passed; The mother of Arthur Fletch. Arthur stepped out beyond the basement door as Barry stepped back. It was Giselle who looked a little longer. The paper on the table was different from the other they just looked at, although the date was the same. Its headline: ¡°Another mine collapses, and ship burns while falling, infrastructure continues to fail while the people get hungry.¡± ¡°That paper¡­¡± Giselle said. Then Arthur blocked her view. ¡°What of it? It¡¯s old, but I¡¯m a reporter. Now tell me what is this.¡± As the Doctor, or the man who shared his body, stepped out, he was shocked to find the basement different from the one he knew. The door slammed, ¡°Woah! What is this¡­¡± he said, pointing. His outstretched hand and finger being reduced to dust, the rest of his flesh followed. There falling, the dust before them, was a reporter named Arthur Fletch. Chapter 5 ¡°Even this late at night, we continue to report the news on the tragedy surrounding the well-known Doctor Arthur Fletch. A memorial is being built as we speak behind me.¡± ¡°Conspiracy, outrage, and disbelief surround the reality of the situation. Could a simple trip down the stairs truly alter the direction of the world? I will let you guys tell the rest as we show the statue being lifted in full.¡± ¡°Yes, thank you for your work out in the field. Things are hectic out there, the world is in turmoil, and disbelief spreads as people riot. Countless people are screaming it is impossible for a man like the Doctor to die from a fall down the stairs.¡± ¡°Coverage will continue until every soul in the world knows who the man Arthur Fletch was and the achievements he accrued in his lifetime.¡± ************ The dust of the man lay in a pile. Growing flatter by the shuffle of feet. Barry and Giselle had no time to react. ¡°Hmm?¡± There was a quiet sound from their left. It was the second door on the staircase. They saw a man poke his head through. He stood tall with an unkempt beard and eyes that lacked the luster of youth despite his lack of wrinkles. It was the man repeated, but different. Life had taken from him, that was clear. As he had the newspaper on the table, they knew. The Fletch family home was his, not his parents after their death. ¡°What is all this?¡± Barry made a stumbling run, his mind a canvas without paint. He did not want to think. His crawl backward brought him in front of the man, far more familiar than the one they just watched cease to exist. ¡°Doctor?¡± Barry said. It was a question; he knew the answer and did not want one. ¡°I have to wake up.¡± ¡°Wake up? Who are you¡ªwhy are you in my house?¡± The man said, adjusting his glasses. With his arms lifted, it was clear he was skinnier than before. His tie is a plain gray without glow or design. He was not the complete picture of the man the two kids had in mind. Giselle came marching down her head in half a swim. It had sunken deep. She was convinced she was living in illusion, but her feet were sore and it hurt when she gave herself a pinch. ¡°Sir, can you tell me about the paper on your table¡­¡± She asked a question that sought an answer, a way to distract. ¡°I don¡¯t think that is appropriate as things stand, Young Lady.¡± The new Arther said. ¡°Please¡­¡± she mumbled, as her eyes grew softer. The three sunk into thought, except Barry, who was bound to wonder. In the mind of the Doctor, he started to debate. It was Giselle¡¯s mind that was making sense of the space. The book that the Doctor who lived in the first door at the top had a passage of perception. A theory of existence the world hated. The world we live in is a trapping of the consciousness, only a place the mind could make. We live on the border between Chaos and Reality. It is not a dream, but a form of one. The consciousness is singular but many in the individuals such as ourselves. And for each individual, it can exist as this but once. In death, that is when our existence moves on, as nothing will exist without consciousness. The Doctor of this door did not exist until the reporter from the one above had passed. Though the worlds and people are different, they are of one mind, even if they experience all things in life differently. Yet in the one lower in the plane of existence, not in quality, but just after. As it was the one above that had to not be for the one below to be. The man broke her mind from her thought, a ramble in which she was nearly lost. ¡°I suppose I could say, but you will need to explain yourself or I will report you to the authorities. It¡¯s a quiet town and I like it that way.¡± Another different thing; Our town is impoverished. The teacher¡¯s factory was the only thing left to give a job outside of menials and steam engineers¡­ ¡°I was just reminiscing of a day that passed, my time of glory in a sense. But I am nothing anymore, a retired inventor who made and sold something to heal my wounds.¡± Arthur said, his hand on his head, his fingers finding a space beneath his glasses. ¡°What about Blue Gas or the classes?¡± Barry said, rolling to his side to stand. He was asking the question while looking down the stairs. Another door appeared in front of him.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°I do not know what that is. I have never taught anyone anything worthwhile,¡± Arthur said. ¡°Now it is your turn.¡± Giselle looked up as she spoke, half-doubting her own words as she spoke. She told him of the situation, and the man in the door above. The passages in the book by his ¡®other self¡¯, she read; Believing the man could explain more. ¡°Stop. Stop, what you are suggesting is a type of quantum suicide or immortality. But such a thing could only exist if our world had folded. Realities layered upon realities.¡± Arthur said he was shaking his head when he started speaking, but nodding it as he went deeper. ¡°Such a thing could only exist if Reality had a fluidity, ¡®a flex¡¯ to it. Reality can only be a reality, the physical and spiritual two planes, perhaps at most. Unless this world was influenced by another thing. A twin to such a reality, if you will. A Chaos, more primordial than we would like to imagine.¡± The man named Arthur began to shed tears. ¡°Doctor¡­ What is it, is there something worse?¡± ¡°For such a thing to happen, we would have had to be forgotten or never existed under the umbrella of the entity that gives direction. It only influences us as the Chaos does. I see¡­ Haha.¡± Arthur began to laugh madly. ¡°The only way life has purpose is if the universe has direction¡­ This, this place, does not. Therefore, we are purposeless. Is that why we are stuck in the search for purpose, individuality but a cloud of dust!¡± He said. His eyes landed on Barry. ¡°Who am I to you?¡± Barry spoke and stood and backed away, already tired and full of fear; His words were an unsteady slope of babble. ¡°Blue Gas, what is it telling me, if I have more, then at least I have something¡­¡± Arthur said. ¡°You are not the Doctor¡­¡± Giselle said. The sentence made the eyes of the man go mad to look up at the girl, the light from his room shining on her. The face of the boy stumbling away next to her shares a similar opinion in his eyes. Hair dyed a pale blonde and skin an unnatural bronze. Jeans that were too tight for the night raid they planned, and a blue dress shirt that blended with the moonlight that was no longer there. The boy who fell backward as if a worm crawling away was the opposite, dressed poorly, with baggy clothing and hair a brown like oak bark. He wore a similar blue motif; How else could hide in the blue light of the moon during the night? ¡°Who are you to determine who I am!¡± The Arthur in front of them said, dashing forward at Giselle. He raised his hands to strike the woman, who was far faster than him. But Barry was faster than them both, running to the next door down the stairs. Giselle threw out a hand, crushing the glasses on the man¡¯s face glass going into his eyes. He shouted as he reached for her with his eyes closed, finding her hair, he pulled at it, gasping like he was a horse in the race of its life. ¡°I won¡¯t be nothing, I won¡¯t be unmade. I should be something more,¡± he said. Spluttering blood that ran down his cheeks with his words, coating the girl he could not see. ¡°Barry!¡± Giselle shouted. Again, she struck him as he tried to grapple. The door that he entered from closing behind his back. ¡°You are just the cat in the box!¡± he said, his mouth warping. His mouth opened to say but the sound of a handle turning filled the ever-winding, brightening corridor of stairs. Giselle was covered in ash. Even the blood on her clothing and face crystallized, falling away, the white dust of the nonexistent. The new door that was open was quickly broken through. Arthur with a gun in two hands, a creature with scales standing tall, pushing him out. ¡°Who¡­¡± new Arthur said, stopped by a hand to his stomach. The scaled creature swung its tail, the door slamming shut as Arthur took a shot, a blue gas arc going through its head. Arthur turned and pointed his gun at Barry, who ran to the next door in a panic. He opened it, leaving his sister to once again run through the ash of the people created from the door. ¡°Barry stop!¡± The purple-brown light grew brighter at every door until it took up the entire room; changing the color of the stairs. The bottom seemed nothing special except for the source of the light. It was empty, with a single door remaining. Barry did not hesitate; he had no reason to any longer. A man was already there looking at the two Giselle catching up to her brother. An old man with a thinning beard, his hair had long gone. He was tall with a painterly nightgown. He had no confusion as he looked at the two. ¡°Have I seen you before?¡± he said, stepping out into the room on the basement floor. ¡°Odd¡­ how odd; I swear there were stairs here before. I covered the door a while ago, but is that something I would forget?¡± His hand pulled his beard; ¡°How odd can you turn that light off, one of you two?¡± ¡°Sir, Doctor, it¡¯s time to wake up.¡± A voice came from the door. The old man kept just his foot in the door¡¯s frame. ¡°Ah, indeed I suppose it is. I thought I woke up early, but it seems I am having a dream. The lovely nurse still calls. It was nice to see you again, even if you have forgotten about me or I forgot you.¡± He said, turning back towards the door and taking slow steps as he reached for the knob behind him. ¡°I should have ignored that mad fortune teller all those years ago. He told me I would be a great man before dying in tragedy while young. For some reason today felt like that day, but I am old now¡­ Yes, well, it is all just a dream after all¡­¡± he said, closing the door to his shoulder and latching it shut. ¡°Barry stop, you¡¯re acting mindless,¡± Gisselle said, reaching out to her brother who was already walking to another place. As they turned away from the last door, they saw the purple glow on the far wall¡ªonly one thing between them and the mass that tore apart space. A wooden desk with weapons, paper, and candles burnt to their base. Barry fell to his knees in front of the desk, Giselle held his head in one of her hands¡ªlooking at the desk in the shine of the purple light. There was a note in its center, on top of the paper piles, that reached above Barry¡¯s head in his whimpering kneel. It was addressed to ¡°those who find this,¡± leaving a short message to them. ¡°Congratulations and condolences. You now know a piece of this world. It was never a full truth as we thought; As we are between the named and unnamed, and even on less abstract concepts, humanity can not agree. We exist between their tug of war, Primordial Chaos, and All. But we¡¯re inconsequential to either, and so we do as we must.¡± ¡°You now have all I once had, do as you please. If those who regulate in the absence of that which to be and it are kind, they will let you join them as they have I. Maintain this world abandoned, layered, and offended.¡± Giselle read the whole thing out, holding the head of her brother tight. When she was done with the letter, she picked up another thing that caught her eye. She slid to the front edge of the desk, a weapon, a gun of some type with a blue glow in its barrel. ¡°Blue Gas¡­¡± she said, finally getting a response from her brother. Barry did not respond to her, but a small blast of air grazed his lowered hands. The sound of footsteps and tearing cloth in his ears. The purple glow began to flicker, bright and cold, warping, a sound like static getting loud before turning to silence in a snap; two others stepped from a plane unknown to all who exist in a place inside the doors. ¡°We are doing this again, huh? Whose legacy is it?¡± The voice was like a bear tired from the hunting of spring. ¡°I think it is a few kids left behind by little Arthur.¡± a woman¡¯s voice, rough but nasally, and sharp to the ears, pulling attention like it belonged on her. ¡°Fletch? It¡¯s a shame, but everyone on the border loses their status as a singular, eventually. Except for that one and those who walk in freely from outside. Still, all his non-potential incarnations died off quickly, no?¡± ¡°Now isn¡¯t the time for it.¡± Barry stood fast, grabbing the gun from under his sister¡¯s hands, and pointed it out as the purple glow faded. The faint sparks of brown remained like the purple was only gone for a rest. ¡°Oh, this one¡­¡± the man said. ¡°Relax, there is no need to be on guard. You wouldn¡¯t win as you are now anyway, kiddo.¡± The woman said, shifting her fit and putting her hands on her hips. ¡°So you are some of Fletch¡¯s students? What do you think?¡± ¡°The boy¡¯s mind is being swallowed by the world, but he acts without hesitation, even in such a state. He is not bad,¡± the man said. ¡°Alright, you take him. The girl¡­ I think it¡¯s time I take a disciple too. She is calm despite being trapped in a collapse. She could be a learner or a sage. I will have to test her combat skills later,¡± she said. ¡°Wait, who are you?¡± Giselle asked. She relied on Barry for the first time in her life as he stood steady, the gun in his hands lifted. ¡°There is nothing you won¡¯t understand in time, but if I had to say; A¡­ um, universe patrol,¡± she said. ¡°Yep, we make sure there are a few things kept in order, some rules. We ensure they stay as they should and regulate the power of great individuals. We managed to stop all of them¡­ Except for a few damned Nine-Worlds Alchemist.¡± The man said, showing a sore spot that made him grind down his teeth it seemed. ¡°Hey don¡¯t mention that name. Anyway, you heard him. If you wish to know more, you could only learn in Centralis.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call it that anymore; It is Arezeckia after the first tower was¡­ Never mind, call it whatever, just don¡¯t call it ¡®Isekai Patrol¡¯ like these people that wear cat ears and scream profane cheers at little girls.¡± The man said, letting his jaw hang as he turned to the brown glow on the wall. He began to tinker, and the purple glow returned. ¡°Why even bring it up? They aren¡¯t allowed to work in the field anymore¡­¡± the woman said. ¡°What do you want from us?¡± Giselle asked, her hand moving to Barry¡¯s shoulder. She could support him if he decided to shoot. ¡°Recruit you, haven¡¯t you heard?¡± ¡°Help us maintain the Border of Consciousness and fight injustice, bringing perfection to this forgotten corner of the Universes,¡± she said. Her words got to Barry, waking him, but he held the gun steady. ¡°Sis, who exactly was Doctor Fletch?¡±