At Dusk

PART I - Drifting

Laura left her room and stepped into a world of copper.

The setting sun pierced the narrow corridor through the glass panes of an open window, coloring with its golden hues everything it touched. Even dust particles floating lazily above the worn-out carpet reflected the light beams, looking rather like miniature fireflies. 

Time for witches and witchcraft, she thought as she passed by the bored receptionist and waved her hand without making eye contact.

Outside the inn, the dramatic hues of the magic hour were even more exuberant. The sky had the texture of a renascence painting; a reminder that the summer days had swiftly been replaced and autumn was well underway. 

The city around her vibrated with a silent buzz as if it stood on the threshold of a new dawn. 

All the bus stops were crowded. Workers coming back from their daily activities, passers-by, students; all mashed up together in the commotion of what felt like a second morning.

She had already planned on going by foot, so it didn't bother her when number 453 drove past. There was no reason to hurry, she was as early as anyone could possibly be.

It was a thirty minutes' walk, and she could use the time to think of her approach, which she should have done yesterday, or the day before, or last week when David had sent her the lead to the story. He was interested in this, she could tell.

Some crazy explosion ripped a physics laboratory and disrupted the city in the small hours of an unusual night some twenty years past. Nobody knew what had caused it, or why, or even who was to blame. Some speculated it was an electrical failure, others insisted that some sort of test had taken a wrong turn, even though it was unlikely that any tests would take place there in the middle of the night.

She was going to interview a witness. A man who had served as a consultant to the Air Force back in the day and now decided to come clean about the event. David told her a liver cancer diagnosis was responsible for his change of heart. The old man wouldn't be ready to die before he got the story out.

Anyway, she did not care. It was one more spooky story that nobody cared about except her silly boss. With her side investigations, she was getting closer and closer to those who truly mattered. The Family. They weren't involved in anything otherworldly. Nothing David would want to publish about. Corruption, money laundry, blackmail. Real things.

Everything they did, they did in broad daylight. And yet the effects of their actions were a thousand times worse than any witchhunt narrative she could conjure up for her boss. And she knew. She knew better than anyone, for she was one of them not that long ago.

Thinking about the past aggravated her. She must focus on the upcoming chore until next weekend when she would have time off, she told herself. Her steps were leading her across the wasteland that stood between the city center and the university campus, whose flickering lights she could already see.

Those tiny pools of light escaping from far-away buildings pierced the darkness to reach her eyes. They brought to her attention that the magic hour had elapsed by. The copper hues of the setting sun were now swiftly being replaced by the indigo mantle of the night.

She welcomed the sight of the university lights, though she wished they were closer. The barren terrain stretched in all directions, harboring only weeds and a few scattered garbage bins. The emptiness of it haunted her steps.

The highway she had been tagging along was also empty, which was unusual since local buses drove through it every ten or fifteen minutes. Or at least they were supposed to. The most rational part of her brain started regretting not hopping on one when she had had the chance.

She quickened the pace, pretending the sound of her footsteps was enough to distract her mind from the growing unrest in her stomach.

That part of the city was not dangerous, she tried reasoning the unsettling feeling away. And if she kept her current pace, she would soon come upon a lively neighborhood crowded with bars and drunken students. It signaled the northern entrance to the university, where many inns and hotels were located.

She took a deep breath and decided to focus on the interview she had ahead of her.  Five minutes went by. Six. Almost there.

The university was well in sight now, its lights warm and welcoming. And suddenly blurred, as if a thin membrane of opaqueness had been lowered in front of her eyes.

She slowed to a halt, confused, and raised her left hand to touch the strange barrier that had formed out of thin air. The sensation was similar to resting her palm on running water.

To her right, something started materializing out of nowhere. An iridescent bubble twisted and turned as if struggling to burst. It was ripping the fine tissue of reality apart, opening a doorway where there had never been any.

Her brain started looking for analogies to try and cope with that mind-bending load of visual information. It came up with a memory she had of a TV program from her childhood. It showed the footage, captured by a deep-sea diver, of an octopus snapping out of camouflage to catch a small fish that had been swimming by. Only reefs and algae surrounded the unsuspecting prey until the attacker revealed itself.

Panic hit. She felt a scream coming up her throat, but no sound reached her ears. Her arms and legs were motionless with the typical paralysis of nightmares. The very air was hard to breathe and her nostrils had to make an extra effort to suck up the oxygen. 

The air around her became electrically charged as the composition of the atmosphere changed. She was pinned to the spot where her predator had caught her, just like that silly little fish from the TV show.

And it wasn't just her body that felt dormant; her ideas were off-balance too. The side of her brain that wanted to get out of that stupefied state was suddenly yielding to the side that wanted to turn around and face the bubble-like vortex.

Laura. 

Her name reached her as a nudge. She felt it vibrating through her core. Someone was calling and something inside her wanted very much to answer. It begged her to answer. 

She resisted the urge and tried desperately to snap out of whatever trance she had fallen into. But the nudge echoed through her mind again, louder this time, reaching every corner of her consciousness. Breaking in like a wave.

She wouldn't go as far as to say that it felt familiar, but she would admit that it felt reassuring, welcoming even. A bit like coming home. At that point, there was nothing she could do apart from watching herself give in, her body tumbling aside. 

Before all went dark, she realized there was no fall and likewise no ground to break it. Instead, fine strings held her in place, strings with a silken touch. The octopus was about to reveal itself, she thought before her thoughts crumbled.

When it did, she was already drifting.