Many Midnights

             THE OTHER HALF

            Grant wiped the dust from his eyes. It cascaded down in a translucent shower, seemingly coating everything in the room with a fine blanket of dust. It bothered him more than it would have most people due to his allergies and sensitive eyes, both unwanted traits inherited from his deadbeat father. He coughed again and again as he tried to expel as much as he could from his lungs but it was proving to be a futile effort.

            Why he was exploring the old Stockman house he wasn’t sure. The best guess he could latch onto was being a slave to his curiosity, that and trying to impress Julie Draynor. His father, when he wasn’t drunk, had always been an inquisitive type, exploring at every opportunity possible. A smile crept across his face as he recalled his mother kicking his dad out of the house. Good riddens, who needed him anyways?

            Silky cobwebs dangled from every warped joist in the ceiling. Thin beams of fading sunlight sliced through various cracks and leaked past the grime that covered the only two small windows in the room. It was hardly enough light to allow him to see clearly but he had remembered to bring a flashlight.

            Surveying the room proved somewhat useless as he strained to notice anything of value or interest. Long forgotten boxes and crates were stacked along all four walls and offered no clues to their contents. The flashlight beam danced over the containers in a vain attempt to reveal what lay inside them. Grant wasn’t sure what he was looking for but knew when he would find it.

            And then something caught his eye.

            It was small, no larger than a cell phone, but it looked old…and unusual. It lay nestled snugly between two crates on the far side of the room. Grant held the light directly on it as he made his way towards it.

            The closer he came to it the more its value grew. It gleamed with a polished look that contrasted sharply with its dust- coated surroundings. He shoved aside the crates and picked it up to examine it more closely.

            The overall appearance of it was revolting and he found himself tempted to toss it back to its dusty tomb but the visage of it was strangely compelling. It was a face, or at least half of one, of some type of creature whose scowl seethed with hatred and evil. Never before had he gazed upon anything so foul and yet so intoxicating at the same time. Its potential value forced him to tuck it into his pocket.

            When he arrived home he went straight to his room, intent on examining the object in greater detail.

            The light from his lamp failed to reveal any further clues to the object’s origin or purpose. It faintly resembled a distorted pig, with jutting tusks and flattened snout all encompassed within a display of malevolence so complete and  undisputed that the mere thought of it sent shivers down Grant’s spine. The thin line across the thing’s surface was clean and sharp, apparently deliberate in its placement and effect. It was made in two pieces, not broken or cut in half that much was clear. Whoever or whatever had made it had intended it to be in two pieces. Why, was God’s guess.

            After nearly an hour of studying the object Grant was tired and frustrated. He eventually concluded that it was merely a bizarre trinket probably with little or no value besides being an unusual conversation piece. The chance of Julie Draynor being impressed with it was remote at best and although he was somewhat curious as to the whereabouts of the other half of the thing it wasn’t enough to hold his interest. He tossed it into his closet and promptly forgot about it.

            The alarm clock sounded with its usual audacity, jarring Grant loose from Julie Draynor’s embrace and pulling him back to reality. He had a big quiz that

morning that he was hardly prepared for so his enthusiasm for getting out of bed was even less than it normally was. The memory of the thing in his closet occasionally leaked into his mind but would be swept aside by thoughts of Julie Draynor or his studies. But eventually it commanded his full attention.

            Just where exactly was the other half? Was it still in the old Stockman house? Or perhaps it was buried near it, maybe in the backyard. The thought of venturing back to the old house crossed his mind but he decided against it, mostly due his laziness.

            When he arrived at his house the object was foremost in his mind. No one was home at the time so he was relieved for the peace and quiet he would have in studying the object more closely. He went directly to his room and flung open the closet door. What greeted his eyes was straight out of an insane asylum…only weirder.

            It was still there but all around it was a bizarre aura of inky blackness, absolute in its depth and darkness. But that was not what was challenging Grant’s sanity. The space around the object was moving, or rather it was absorbing all around it; drawing the surrounding things in the closet into its empty void.

            Without thinking, Grant reached for it more out of instinct than curiosity. His hand brushed against the void for only a second but it was more than enough time for him to recoil from the sensations he felt.

            Searing, blistering heat rivaling a blast furnace, only worse and at the same time, frigid, paralyzing cold, equaled only in the furthest outer reaches of the solar system and beyond. Grant cuddled his hand to his chest and immediately examined it for injury. 

            Not only was it undamaged but it felt perfectly fine. There were no traces of what it had endured only seconds before. Grant watched in disbelief as a worn baseball mitt, a tattered shoebox full of discarded cassette tapes, a small hamper housing dirty socks and shirts slid towards and down into the void of the empty space around the object. And then something happened that further froze his already fractured mind…he felt himself being pulled towards the object.

            Frantically bracing his arms against the doorjamb was not doing much good. He was sliding towards the black space and there was little he could do about it.

             The sharp pain which erupted at the back of his head stung his senses with shock. His nightstand had hit him as it was flung into the closet, knocking him into unconsciousness and leaving him hopelessly vulnerable.

            The doorway was jammed tight with furniture as the pull from the object intensified; even the carpet was lifted from the floor and flung into the closet. Eventually the entire wall gave way and disappeared into the void around the object.

            Mr. Vinnotelli, a gentle soft- spoken man from the next door, felt the strange pulling sensation as he was washing his prized sixty-eight Camaro. Little Bobby Rhia from across the street wondered what was making his brand new bicycle roll away from him. Mrs. Tina Droth, the lonely wife of a bank executive, noticed her front porch swing leaning forward…by itself. A sharp look of bewilderment flashed across her face when it was swept off the porch and into the street. All were being drawn towards Grant’s house which was itself collapsing inwards.  

            Mr. Vinnotelli’s last sight was his neighbor’s house barreling towards him as he was sucked into the hole. Little Bobby Rhia didn’t have the age or wisdom to understand or even realize his curious and violent demise. Mrs. Droth hardly had time to comprehend what was happening to her before she vanished into the black chasm.

            One and a half miles away, the old Stockman house began to shudder. The pull from the black void was expanding its reach, as if searching for sustenance. In the backyard near one of the basement windows something started to rise from the ground. Clumps of weed ravaged soil lifted as the object was slowly uncovered. Eventually the other half of the distorted pig’s face was completely exposed.

            It was lifted off of the ground and shot into the air, heading straight for where Grant’s house used to stand. It would soon join with its other half, thus completing its power. All would be within its grasp then, nothing on Earth would be safe.