Northern Downpour

The Open Gates (XXIX)

XXIX

And then the day after afternoon had passed and Micael was fast asleep, not much he was tired but because he wanted to talk to Jack. He was sleeping. A part of him, at least. He had eaten lunch before going to the open gates, and it was delicious. Their lunch was smoked salmon, avocado and toast, oh which was the best thing Micael had ever eaten since awhile. The taste of the salmon which was so delicious and indulging, how the avocado complimented its texture and the partially burnt butter toast which was a little bit crispy on the outside but hot, and soft on the inside. He even thought of Amy whilst eating, for she had never shown up that day. Micael's father said that Amy was only feeling sick, which raised some doubts inside his mind. had she become shy? He didn't really know, and he never wanted to know, and so he slept. He again felt what he did way back the first time of his presence on the open gates. The abrupt movement of his whereabouts, the deafening silence, Jack's voice singing the creepiest Jack and Jill rhyme and the radiation which passed his body.

He never had the guts to open his eyes, for he knew that he would die immediately, though the reason was really of unknown cause, but still, he was scared. His eyes were open, but his eyelids were shut tight, and then the trembling stopped. The wind had continued blowing and caressing his smooth white skin, and there he opened his eyes, this time he was past the wooden fence, beside the dead tree where spring-heeled Jack stabbed him no more than twenty stabs, and shot him in the dead. He was stunned and confused of how come he started his very pathway from where he died last and he was not sitting on a quite comfortable chair, neither. He was lying down above the dead grass and his feet on the grey pavements of the sidewalk, of which he immediately stood up for he knew how comfortable it was. It was like needles throbbing on his back, piercing his clothes and his feet were stone-cold. He stood up abruptly and quite carefully, for he did not know what awaits him beyond the open gates, or was he already at the open gates?

A voice then echoed from afar, and the source was floating. It was Jack, who was atop of the child who shapeshifted into a big helluva bird. It did not look like something from Micael's apparent world, though. It had grey feathers, a large, scythe-like beak, starry red eyes with a scar on its right (of which the source was not apparent to Micael), a body as twice as big as a lion and wings that were as wide as a human handspan, 5 times of that. Weirdest of all was that it had tail on its very hind, which looked like a snake, and it was long. It was unlikely, but he never really cared for he knew that the open gates would be much different what he knew it would be. He could hear the flaps of the child's wings and feel the dancing winds which wanted to dance with his skin, it was cold then it had become colder for at least that instance, and then the child had landed.

The child roared a quite scream, which was very unusual for a bird to do so, but he nudged his shoulders and asked: "Why did I wake up on this very position where I am standing? with quite the calm voice and without the fright on that very circumstance. He looked into Jack's purple-glowing eyes and saw the child shapeshifting back to being a child on his near peripheral. He could hear the crack of the bones and the smudging of the flesh, and he was not buggered still, and looked into Jack's eyes with the quite the same intensity and focus like his.
"I have told you, Micael. This place is just as irrelevant as you think you think it is. Someday, you will see why it has to be that way. The world your body's currently residing in is apparent, but ours irrelevant. Time, space, and events. Only EIGHTEEN is of unprecedented relevance." Jack whispered loudly enough so that Micael could hear his words, and then he moved his hand towards a doorway, of which was closer to Micael's.

"Here we are, my child. Find yourself comfortable inside that four walls, and we shall seek real pleasure."

The wind around them was whistling, and the child gladly followed the sound with his mouth, while Micael smiled, stepped a five towards Jack and the child, and they started walking to the doorway. Micael turned his back, looked at the tan bridge, but it was tan no more, as of which seemed like a snake whose skin was recently shed and left falling down the bridge. It was now gun metal in color. Rusty, old-looking, and he could smell the iron oxide from his whereabouts, which was about fourty steps away from the very bridge, and still he stood strong and never wanted to bugger anything as the only relevant thing was EIGHTEEN, nothing more. Before turning his back to Jack, who had reached the doorway and one of his hands on the door's knob, waiting for him to turn his back and his go, like a sergeant would do on such a siege inside a university, where someone was handled hostage inside. From afar, he saw incandescence, of which he knew there must be something.

There wasn't any light at all before, only the waning moon was the natural source. What are you trying to hide, Jack? something went inside his mind, of which he shrugged his shoulders agilely and looked at the incandescent light once more, but it was all just fun and games for him. He forgot that he would not be able to see something that far as he was really near-sighted, and so he ignored it, hammered it on the back of his head, tucked it, and turned. He looked at Jack with quite the smile and followed them ahead.

...