Auntie's Hotel

Chapter 15 The Spirit of the Light

All of his worries. All of his fear. The entire event, from the willow to this shack. It had all suddenly faded away and been forgotten. Victor and his hounds were no longer an issue. The dead walking through the rain, or prying their way into the shack through the floorboards, were no longer a thought. Even the brown car with the paper bag full of money became a distant memory, not worth keeping. The events in front of the burning house, the conversation with Baxter in his garage, even coming through the willow and crossing the pond had gone without him knowing.

His eyes widened as he fixed his gaze on the dancing flame before him. It was beautiful. The sudden warmth of its glow made him feel safe. Unconsciously, he slid the gun, he had cherished so much earlier, back into its holster. He held his hand out, not to touch the flame, but to chase it onto his hand like one might convince a caterpillar to leave its leaf to crawl across their fingers.

It gracefully danced across the small table top and leapt onto the palm of his hand. It made a gesture for him to lift it closer to his face, but instead of lifting, he brought himself closer to the flame in his hand.

In a soft voice, it said, "you don't belong here and I will help you find your way home. I will be your guide."

"Who are you?" he asked.

The flame smiled as if it knew something he did not and couldn't tell. "It is no longer a who question," it said. "It is more of a what question as I am trapped out here in this form."

"Yes," he agreed. "I see...but, some sort of living flame."

"Oh, but I am much more than any simple old flame," it said. "I am much more than a thing. Just as you are more than a someone. I am a symbol. I represent all that is good in this wretched place. Those who know me now, they call me Hope. where there is so much despair, and hate... where the evils of all kind seek to devour our souls, I offer the one thing that all kind needs... Hope."

"Hope?" he asked. "Why am I here? Why do I feel this sense of urgency to leave?"

She flickered a little and her flame became more transparent. "You're done running for tonight. Your troubles are behind you, but tomorrow you will be used. You will be used until I can get you home."

"Why?" he asked. "Why me?"

"It hasn't always been you," she stated. "You're not the only one who has come through the willow, unknowingly stuck. Generations have passed before you and more will follow after you have gone. You are here, now," she said waving her flaming arms before him to represent this place or this time.

The room lit up bright, a fire burst to life behind him, and the furniture slowly drifted away from the door.

"You are now a spark of Hope," she giggled a little. "I've always wanted to say that. There are others depending on you."

"They depend on you for another day... another breath of fresh air. They depend on you to save them from what they will become... a feast for the Devourer of Souls. They need you to bring the 'spark' of Hope to them. They don't know who you are or that you have arrived, but they are waiting for you.

With each word she spoke, a little more came back to him. Very slowly he began to realize who he was, how he had come to this place, what he had been running from, and the fear he had felt. It all pressed at the corners of his thoughts and squeezed. Consciously, he saw the flame burning on his hand and had to stop himself from throwing it down or waving it off.

"Will you help me?" she asked. "Will you be my spark... their spark?"

That which had been fear, became courage. He felt like he could indeed be what or who she wanted. His hand began to glow and Hope slowly became a part of him, slowly melting into his skin.