Indescribable: Book Two of the Primordial

  Indescribable

  - Book Two of the Primordial -

  Bryce Gibson

  Copyright© 2014 by Bryce Gibson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the author’s written consent.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names, and events either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Humblenations.com

  Visit the author online at BryceGibsonWriter.com

  PROLOGUE

  After the Storm

  JULY 30th

  BRIGHT RAYS of sunlight were just beginning to filter through the lush green foliage of the oak, poplar, and pine trees that stood deep within the Truesdale woods. Overhead, beyond the highest reaching tree limbs, the sky was finally clearing. The last of the dark storm clouds that had just recently torn across the area in a frenzy of destruction and rainfall were finally moving off to the east, leaving behind a beautifully clear and blue mid-summer sky.

  On the ground that was still soggy with rainwater there were numerous tree limbs and a scattering of much smaller twigs that had broken off during the highest and most outrageous severity of the storm. The conclusion of the historic weather incident was so recent that raindrops were still trickling down the curve of the tree leaves and dropping off each of the pointed ends. The sparkle of sunlight on the wetness was luminous. The air was so humid that steam was actually rising from the ground like it was the last smoke from an already extinguished brushfire.

  The inside of the woods was calm and quiet. It brought forth a sense of renewal, especially after the previous night of chaos. But even in the tranquility there was movement within the trees, on the ground. Out of unexpected and sudden fright, several black birds fluttered from high tree branches, causing rainwater to cascade down onto the figure that they had flown away from. The cause of the avian fear was a tall creature that wandered among the slim shadows of the upright trees. The creature’s ragged black cloak snagged on briars, thorns, and the rough bark of the tree trunks as it moved through the overgrown brush to join its fellow companions who were already waiting within the wood. A silver chain hung around the creature’s neck and rested against the cloak that seemed to be the texture of burlap. A round, sterling silver pendant that held the silhouette of a fox’s head hung from the chain. With each step, the creature could feel the slide of wet leaves and the squish of the spongy ground as it gave way underneath the weight of its feet that were each made of four toes that held a long, pointed talon on each end.

  Similar to the aversion expressed by the flock of birds just a moment earlier, a brown squirrel darted out from behind a nearby tree and stood on its hind legs, looking back at the new terror before finally bolting away in fright. And just a moment after the squirrel’s reaction to what it was seeing, after the small animal was well out of sight and seemingly safe, there was a sudden, piercing yelp and a snap of bone. Then there was nothing but the quiet.

  As the creature walked the same path as the squirrel, it left behind a staggered trail of shiny black feathers that were so impossibly black that they almost glimmered blue. This particular creature’s name was Miles.

  When Miles emerged from the cover of thick trees, the other three creatures like him were already there. They stood around a wide tree stump that was in the clearing. The others looked at Miles as he stepped from the density of the woods and into their line of sight. Like him, their faces were mostly covered by the shroud of their hoods. And like Miles, behind the folds of fabric and within the dark of shadow, there was the likeness of a vulture. They were masks. Each face was red with a yellow beak. One of the creatures held the limp body of a small, furry animal in its up raised hand. The thin, crooked fingers were clutching the mammal tight. Just a second later the creature was ripping the point of its beak into the flesh. It didn’t take long for Miles to realize that it was the same squirrel that had scampered away from him just a moment earlier. The cause of the high pitch screech and snap of bone that he had heard was now evident. Remembering the pair of sounds made his skin crawl.

  Miles knew that they didn’t have time for such frivolous activity as what he was witnessing the other one doing. There was no time to dine on the delicacies of Earth. They were there for a reason. They had been sent to Truesdale on a mission. Hardly any time at all had passed since he had stood in the desolate chamber of The Master, deep within Fractus, and been given the instructions.

  The room that he had stood in earlier that same day had been made of stone. The only thing that broke up the monotony of the wall was the floor to ceiling window that was to Miles’ right. The window was without glass or any kind of cover. Outside, the sky was obsidian. There was the distant sound of crashing waves. The briny smell of the ocean and seaweed was in the air. Inside the room, there was no furniture or anything at all that would give any indication of the reason for its existence. It was simply just there. Aside from Miles and The Master, there had been no other person or creature in the vacant space. Miles had looked down at the floor. In stark contrast to the drabness of the gray stone that was around the perimeter, the floor had been made of impeccably polished black and white marble. It was so shiny that Miles could clearly see his self reflected back at him. The only thing that Miles could tell that marred the floor was a smear of dried crimson. It was a sign of someone or something that The Master had torn apart with only spoken words.

  The Master stepped closer. Like Miles, the other being that stood before him was dressed in a long and tattered black cloak that dragged the floor. As The Master moved, the length of the cloak gave the impression of floating instead of stepping or walking. Its hands were out of the widely tapered arm holes and the long, skeletal fingers were laced together. Underneath the hood, The Master wore a mask that had been constructed from the faces of a leopard and a wolf. One half of the mask was devoted to each of the mammals, and the two had been sewn together with thick, black twine. The eye sockets were empty, and The Master’s own eyes shone through the holes. The eyes were glowing red.

  “There are three that you must bring to Fractus,” The Master had said in a voice that was absent of any sign of gender. It was a voice of gravel and sandpaper. It was a voice of danger and disappointment, a sound that could hurt your feelings; it was a rumble of thunder on the day of a child’s outdoor birthday party. “Shane, Embry, and a mortal woman that goes by the name of Meghan,” The Master concluded, and without another word, reached out his hand. Miles looked and saw that a yellowed piece of paper was pinched between the thumb and index finger. He took the paper from the outstretched hand and The Master turned from him and walked away, leaving Miles alone. Miles watched as The Master reached the far end of the chamber and saw that there had in fact been someone else there with them. It was a woman, The Master’s lover. She was wearing a long, intricately detailed ball gown. Her black hair was tied up in ringlets and a mask covered her face. The mask was a skull that had a long beak, much like a hummingbird. The skull was painted blue. The Master and Mistress intertwined their arms together and sauntered away. After they were out of sight, Miles unfolded the paper and read the inscription…

  Meghan♥

  Embry♥

  Shane X

  Even though it was simple and contained very little wording or instruction, he knew what it meant. He had seen it before, but never had he seen ♥s and Xs on the same paper. Meghan and Embry were to be brought back to Fractus safely, hence the ♥s, but the X that had been placed by Shane’s name meant that he was to be condemned, that it was the end of the line for him and it didn’t matter if he was alive or dead upon his
return.

  Traveling between the worlds was not a pleasant experience, even for an experienced soldier like Miles. Even though the place known as Fractus and everything that it contained had been created with magic, there was no easy way to get from one realm to the other. There was no incantation or waving of a magic wand that would place him into the middle of Truesdale, South Carolina, the town where he needed to be. It was the town where Meghan, Embry, and Shane were expected to be found. The only way to get from Fractus to Earth was through one of the portals. However, the passageway that was located in Truesdale had been blocked. So Miles and the other three soldiers had to travel through the next closest portal.

  After receiving the instructions, Miles, along with the other three soldiers had stood on a high, stone overlook. It was the spot in Fractus where the portals always opened up. Below them the ocean was roaring. As the waves crashed, a mist of salty water drifted upward to where they stood. To their left were thick woods that they had just recently traveled through in order to get to the portal’s opening. The entranceway was an opening in the black sky. It seemed to be a hole that had at some point in time just been ripped into the very atmosphere itself.

  Travel through each of the portals was different. It was where the portal had been opened on the other side, on the Earth side, that determined what the inside of the passageway would be like. Those that had been opened within the woods were full of tree root and dirt, while others that had been started in lakes or ponds were full of brackish water, fish, and slimy stone. As Miles had stepped closer to this particular entranceway he could see glimpses of splintered board and rusted nails that jutted out in every angle and direction. There was a length of smooth, rusted pipe. Even though there was a moment of hesitation, Miles had stepped in first. He had to; it was his duty.

  The beginning was easy enough. It was simply stepping on one board or pipe after another and grasping the next, pushing and pulling himself higher, but the further that he went the more difficult the task became. As the ground of Fractus got further away, the space where he was traveling became narrower with each inch that he ascended. The passageway in front of him soon became barely wide enough even for his thin body to fit through. The surrounding boards scraped and jabbed at him. Exposed, rusted nails ripped through the thick fabric of his cloak and tore into his skin. He could feel the warm blood as it trickled down his arms. He knew that the other three soldiers were close behind and were surely experiencing the same excruciating pain as him.

  Aside from the board and nail, there was that length of cold, metal pipe that ran through the dirt. When he brushed against the pipe it was a welcome relief from the other. As they got closer to the other side, there was a surprising smell that lingered in the air. It was the unmistakable odor of spray paint.

  Finally, by the time that they could see through the hole in the floorboards of the wooden structure that stood above them, all three of the soldiers’ robes and flesh were tattered.

  In the lead, Miles had emerged from the darkness within the floor first, and by placing his hand flat on the ancient floorboards, he pushed himself out of the portal and stood rigid on the floor. One after another, the other three emerged behind him. The structure that they stood in was ramshackle and barely large enough to hold the four of them. The walls were bare. There were only three windows and two of them still held glass. The other was empty except for several jagged shards that ran along the top and the bottom, giving the impression of a wide open, monstrous mouth that was full of pointed teeth. The door was standing open. Because of the strong gusts of wind, the door should have been banging to and fro, but it wasn’t. Because of the vines that had grown over it and held it to the side of the building, it was motionless. Outside, there was lightning and thunder. Rain was just beginning to fall. Even though it was already mid afternoon, the dark clouds in the sky made it appear to be dusk. One after another, the soldiers stepped outside of the structure.

  Ivy and kudzu grew up the front of the small building. Over time, the invasive vines had weaved their way in and out of the wide slats to the point of making the wooden structure appear that it had been consumed by nature itself. All around the building there were acres of sweet corn that had been planted in neat, close rows. Many of the stalks were way taller than Miles. The forked tassels were swaying gently in the breeze, and nearly ready to be picked ears were jutting out from each stalk, the silks nearly black.

  Now that they were outside, Miles looked up. A tall water tower stood above them. It was an old, wooden one that hadn’t been in use for decades. The boards were gray with age and from being out in the elements. The smell of spray paint was now evident. On one of the large, wooden beams that served as one of the support legs to the tower there was a neon pink heart that had been painted there. The heart had the names Josh and Liza on its interior. It was the classic sign of a love-struck teenager.

  It was only a brief moment until Miles had taken the initiative and flung his wings out to each side of his body. The span of the wings was at least five feet from each of the alulae, the group of feathers on each end. The feathers that covered the wings were as black as the darkest of Halloween nights.

  Miles flew into the sky and behind him the others followed. The flapping of their wide wings caused an enormous breeze and the tops of the tall pines that they flew over swayed back and forth. They had to travel west, toward Truesdale. The town was over a hundred miles away, but the speed that they were able to fly would make the journey quick. The cover of dark cloud would help in their travel. They wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted by any prying human eye.

  Together, the three of them had flown over densely wooded areas. They passed over farmland that held neat rows of cotton and tobacco, peaches, corn, and squash. Below them were ponds and lakes, BBQ shacks and country bars. They glided over elementary schools, and in the larger towns they could see ugly strip malls that stretched lifelessly across the land, destroying the beauty that could be. Occasionally Miles dipped down lower in the sky, doing things just for fun, like causing a man’s fedora to go flying of his head and a woman’s paisley printed umbrella to flip inside out. Their wings had made freshly laundered sheets that hung out on clothes lines to flap and a red and blue confederate flag to whip brilliantly in the summer sky.

  Now, where they stood in the woods, through the gaps in the trees, Miles could see the house that belonged to Meghan. In a similar mess to the woods, the yard was scattered with limbs and tree debris. Pink, white, and purple flower petals were scattered across the green grass. The house itself had not made out well during the storm. A rectangular sheet of tin that once lined the roof was lying flat in the yard. A tree limb jabbed out of the gaping hole where the tin had once been. Where raindrops had once dinged pleasantly, throughout the duration of the storm they had fallen through the roof, drenching and ruining the slats of beautiful hardwood that stretched across the floor. It was through that hole in the roof where Miles had entered. It was the house where they had looked first.

  The inside of the house had been soaked. Tree debris had been scattered among the furniture. Things that shouldn’t have been inside were everywhere that he looked. A gas grill that must’ve been sent flying through the window was lopsided against the sofa. It was hard to tell if the red geraniums that littered the floor were from a glass vase or had been carried there by the wind. Miles had searched each room. The talons of his feet had gouged at the wood, leaving deep scratches. He had walked past broken mirrors and an overturned TV.

  But Meghan had not been there, nor had Embry or Shane. And so Miles, along with the other three soldiers, had begun searching the surrounding woods and so far had come up empty handed.

  Miles turned his attention from the house and glared at the soldier that had been dining on the squirrel. The other one dropped the carcass to the wet ground. A mess of blood covered his beak and dribbled down the front of his cloak. Once again Miles held both of his wings out to each side of his body. A sou
nd emerged from behind the beaked mask that covered his face. It was a hiss, a voice that was only recognizable to the others that were its same. It was a voice saying that it was time to go, to press on, the clock was ticking. And without another sound, all four of them turned and walked through the trees, toward the open, and once again took to the sky in search of the three that they had been sent to retrieve, knowing that there was no way that they could go back to Fractus empty handed. They had to find those three or else face the consequence of failure. It was something that even The Master would fight to avoid. It was The Indescribable.

  PART ONE

  Searching

  CHAPTER ONE

  JULY 29th

  A HORSE that was pulling a buggy full of passengers was clomping down the busy cobblestone street of Savannah, Georgia. Each of the men and women that were seated within the buggy had their phones out and were taking pictures of the beautiful, old buildings and scenery that was stretched out before them. A large church stood on one corner. Spanish moss hung from the trees that shaded the grassy squares. Tourists and college students were milling about everywhere. The smell of food lingered about the air. A black hearse that proudly advertised GHOST TOURS across its sides crept around one corner, ONE OF THE MOST HAUNTED CITY IN AMERICA it proclaimed. The streets were an odd mess of various time periods that were full of horse pulled carriages, bicycles and mopeds, cars and trucks. In a small apartment that was located just off one of the city squares, above an old antique store and pizzeria, there was the sound of someone yelling. Through the apartment’s open window, the voice was loud. It caused both the passengers that were in the touring buggy and several walking pedestrians to look up, toward the source.