I Drive a Taxi Between the Realms. Entry Three: Otherworld

Entry One

Entry Two

It’s been a solid month since my unsettling trip to Tartarus. I still haven’t heard anything about the woman I picked up. I suppose that finding herself will likely take some time.

Yeah, I’ve been thinking about her a lot–her, as well as myself, or who I used to be.

My dreams have been a bit nuts. I’ve always had an overactive imagination as it is. But some have felt…I don’t know…familiar, I suppose?

Naturally, anything revealed in my sleep is lost soon after waking. Always goes that way. There are remaining fragments, though. A man, tall and proud. Dark beard, dark, long hair. A persistent scowl on his face. He shows up frequently.

He’s always looking down at me. Not on me, like condescending–okay, he does that too, always appearing disappointed. But, it’s like he towers over me–a giant to my eyes.

My father, perhaps? My real father? The viewpoint of a child, gazing up at his arrogant face?

Hmmm.

Can’t rush lost memories, I suppose. If that is what these dreams are attempting to reveal. Maybe it is nothing more than my imagination getting carried away. That wouldn’t be a stretch.

Yeah. Not worth dwelling on. Not yet anyway.

It ended up taking around a week for my old cab to get fixed up. I’m honestly surprised that old Scratch signed off on sprucing the old girl up so much. Maybe the call from Lucifer helped on that front.

I need to remember to thank him for that, should I ever have the opportunity to run into him again. I don’t think I’ll get used to calling him Grant, though. Quite the odd choice for an ancient fallen angel, with unfathomable power.

Not my area of expertise. Nope. With who he is, what he’s capable of, as well as the fact that he literally saved my ass, I’ll call him Dorothy, if that’s what he wants.

Hell, I can’t say I’m even certain of my own name anymore, let alone what anyone else chooses to call themselves.

Yeah. That’s enough of all that.

Since I got my beautifully remodeled taxi back (and damn, is she pretty now!), I can’t say that I’ve really had anything worth sharing.

Sure, some of the locations I’ve headed to and from would certainly be interesting to those less familiar with anything beyond this plane. But, for me–and forgive me for this, these jobs are fairly generic. Nothing I feel compelled to share.

Of course, this time of year can be quite bustling. Between Samhain, the winter solstice on the horizon, and the transition of the earthrealm’s years, from one to the next, something seems to shift between the layers.

Whether it’s simply the colder temperatures, throughout several realities, or just something in the air. The veil is considerably thinner. Already, since the beginning of October, I’ve lost count of the sheer volume of fares I’ve had.

I’ve built up quite the little nest egg too. That alone is enough for me to resist selling the amulet I received from the curious woman with the missing face.

There’s something about it, I can’t quite put my finger on. Something about that gorgeous trinket, as well as the woman herself.

I hope that I can see her again, should she relocate herself, anyway. Maybe she can remind me of who I am too.

I just don’t…

(Notification rings)

“Is this a representative of Scratch and Sons taxi service?”

Hmmm. That’s new. Been a while since I’ve had to confirm.

“Indeed it is. My name is Clarence, one of the many sons in question. How may I help you this evening?”

Might as well light up. This could take a bit. I’m currently back at the depot. It would appear that my brothers are either all otherwise occupied, or are just avoiding returning.

Normally, I don’t like to spend my time between fares back here, if I can help it. But, we’ve had a good deal of prescheduled rides this month already–not uncommon for this time of year. It’s more convenient to be at the central hub for such things.

(Notification rings again.)

“Might I request your services? I have various funds to suit your preference, and am willing to pay upon your arrival.”

So formal…This is definitely someone new to such things as crossword travel.

“Absolutely. We are willing to accept many forms of payment. If you can provide me with the location from which you wish to be retrieved, and your destination, I would be happy to give you a quote.”

Sheesh! I almost hate when the client is more well spoken and sophisticated sounding. Makes me feel like I have to be as articulate as possible. Sure, I don’t tend to layer these passing words with f-bombs, or anything so crude–our reputation is amongst our most precious commodities, after all. But I do hate having to be so goddamn precise in my phrasing.

(Notification chimes again.)

“Much obliged indeed. I would like to be met at the southern border of Tòrachd Ansgrios, in the heart of Otherworld. And to be transported to Athboy, Ireland, upon the mortal realm.”

Otherworld. Yeah, that’s not surprising. This will be my third trip out that way this month. This is about the only time of year when the veil is thin enough to permit passage to, and from that particular realm. Still. I can’t say I’m familiar with Tòrachd Ansgrios.

Yes, Otherworld is quite vast. And there are some…well, less than friendly areas. I should look this up, before sending a quote.

(Phone keyboard typing can be heard, along with the muttering of the cab driver.)

Jesus…this is far deeper than I have ever traveled into that realm. According to my…well, let’s call it an app, I suppose…there are many waypoints, not unlike the supposed roots of Yggdrasil, upon the mortal realm.

Hmmm. This appears to be one of the…darker areas of Otherworld…

Meh. Screw it. I’ll offer them a hefty quote. Most of the residents of Otherworld are friendly to us cabbies. Yeah, I don’t want to get myself lost, or anything. But, if they accept the price tag, I’ll take my chances.

“I can indeed make this trip. But, you understand that this is quite a lengthy journey, deep into Otherworld. I’m afraid that the cost will be substantial.”

Hmmm. Okay, I hate when they offer a blank statement of ‘many forms of currency’. Makes it tricky to offer an actual quote. Hopefully ‘substantial’ will be enough to express what I’m getting at.

(Notification rings again.)

“I can offer seventeen gold bullions. The hand of a serpent king. Three Roman Vitellius Aureus. The captured soul of a lecherous cardinal. Or one Jin Dynasty Tianjuan Tongbao. I do not have all of these upon my person, you understand. But, should any of these be of interest to you, I can have your selection prepared for your arrival.”

Wow! Yeah, they do have quite the selection. I’ll have to do a bit of research, real quick.

“Thank you for your offers. Allow me a moment to consult my supervisor, and I shall reply shortly.”

Supervisor? Yeah. That’s a laugh.

(The sound of smartphone typing can be heard again.)

Okay, the bullion would fetch a pretty penny, as would the roman coins.

Serpent kings hand…hmmm. Haven’t dealt with that one before. I’ll come back to that…

The soul…yeah, to the right buyer, that could earn a nice chunk of change. But I am not a fan of the ‘side effects’ of carrying a tarnished soul…

One Tianjuan Tongbao…I’m not too familiar with that one either.

Let me see…

Oh…

Oh shit!

Holy hell!

Upwards of five hundred grand, in mortal currency!

(Swiftly paced screen tapping can be heard.)

“Ah, yes. My supervisor assures me that the Jin Dynasty Tianjuan Tongbao shall be more than satisfactory for this trip. I shall depart now. Judging by the route…if all should proceed well. I do believe that I should be able to reach you within two earth realm hours. No more than three. Will this be acceptable?”

Bugger me…I’m hitting the road right now…I have never received such a payment!

(Notification rings, one final time.)

“Absolutely acceptable. And I am greatly appreciative of your haste. I shall have your payment ready, and shall watch for your vehicle’s arrival. Take care on your journey. The natives are especially agitated at the current time.”

Yeah, that’s nothing new. Especially this time of year. Lots of traveling going on, both above, and below. And Otherworld can be a bit chaotic when the veil is thin.

“I shall indeed. And, thank you for both your warning, and concern. I will reach you as soon as I can. Please be ready to depart upon my arrival. And, thank you for choosing Scratch and Sons for your traveling needs.”

This particular depot–one of four, under the control of my boss and…’father’, is something of a pocket dimension. Basically, neither here nor there. But, at the same time, here and there. Sounds like gibberish, right?

In essence, being somewhat between a variety of realms, I can easily connect to many of them. Unfortunately, there is no direct path between here and Otherworld. But, given that the destination is in Ireland, it’s the best idea to access the intersection there.

Otherworld is a far less natural realm than many–natural in any relatable manner, anyway. Not unlike the Bridge, the Netherroad, and many, many more realities (including a backroad through Hell), it can be accessed from the mortal plane.

This is something I always find somewhat troubling, given that many who dwell there live in constant denial of anything beyond their own existence, aside from those based on their religious, or spiritual beliefs.

Yeah, I’m not about to get into all of that–what is real and what isn’t, or what is assumed, and what I know to be true. I have whittled away many hours, locked into such discussions. We would be here all night, if I got off on a tangent.

In a nutshell, the beginning of this trip will lead me just outside Belfast, which is a few hours from the final destination of this trip. But better to enter from Ireland, so I can return through the same doorway. That’ll make the trip back a good deal more convenient.

I’ve had a few trips out that way around Samhain–those attending the Púca Festival, an annual celebration, reviving the Celtic traditions of the season. Given the connection to otherworldly visitations, I’m honestly surprised that there isn’t a more direct route to Athboy.

Hmmm. I might have to look into that at some point.

The small backroad to which the bridge will lead me from here, though, rarely has much traffic to worry about. That definitely makes reentering the mortal realm easier. The last thing I need to do is rush things, even with such a hefty paycheck ahead of me.

From Belfast, I’ll make my way to county Antrim, near the villages of Armoy and Stranocum. That’s where I’ll find the only spot in Ireland from which I can access Otherworld–the Dark Hedges. It’s a tourist spot these days, no longer allowing access to vehicles, only pedestrian traffic. But there are ways around that, of course.

The Dark Hedges is actually one of many man-made gateways–one through which a variety of realms can be accessed. Back in 1775, a local landowner planted over a hundred and fifty European beech trees along the entrance road to his estate.

While many assumed it to be nothing more than a beautifully dramatic entrance to his elegant manor, his inspirations were not purely superficial. Though there are many rumors surrounding the nature of his hobbies, at least within the circles I travel in, little is known whether his motivations were pure, or perhaps dark curiosity.

Whatever the case, the man possessed great knowledge of many of the realms, though perhaps only crude knowledge at best. As it stands, even in this modern world, there aren’t many who truly understand how vast reality, and realities, can be. I’d have to assume that, back then, he wasn’t much more well versed than most occultists in this age.

Regardless of any of that, though, the man apparently knew how to open dimensional doors. Each of the trees lining this stretch of road were imbued with incantations into their very roots, stretching throughout the bark and branches as they matured.

As time progressed, and the forestry became more lush, even more gateways became accessible. I wonder if the man could have predicted how many doors he provided for folks like me. On top of that, I am quite curious if he had a specific destination in mind.

Suffice it to say, this will not be my first visit out to Antrim county. And thankfully, it should be around 2am out in that neck of the woods right now. That makes my job so much easier, with likely no foot traffic to work around.

Alright. With my route planned out, it’s time to go!

This depot probably doesn’t appear much differently to many taxi or bus depots in the mortal realm. Sure, the architecture of the main building differs a bit, given the obsidian-like materials with which the five story mammoth was constructed. Plus, we have a decent amount of technology which would likely be quite puzzling to human eyes. But, the layout is similar nonetheless.

I’m currently parked on one of twelve rotating platforms, branching out to both inclining and declining roadways, I simply select my chosen path with my onboard, well, I’ll just call it my computer, for all intents and purposes.

As the platform steadily spins to face the steep decline ahead, I crank my (now whisper quiet) cab, and gun it toward the entrance to the bridge below. The road spirals downward at this deep decline for a good hundred feet or so, giving me plenty of time to reach seventy-two.

Sure, it can be a bit intimidating, speeding down a spiralling slope, but this is nothing I haven’t done countless times by this point. Yeah, my asshole puckered something fierce the first time. It’s been a long time since I was that hesitant and skittish rookie, though.

As always, when I reach the entry point, indicated by runes not dissimilar from those to leave the bridge behind, a swift tap of my horn sends me down into the zigzagging and overlapping roads beneath this little pocket universe.

Having entered from somewhere between and beyond many planes, I won’t spend much more than ten minutes below the worlds above. A few of my brothers, over the centuries, have tried to cut some trips short by returning to one of the hubs, to access a closer entry point to their destination.

Yeah, Father didn’t like that too much.

Given that they had their clients on board when they made that transition, they each got a royal ass chewing for that. Sure, back then, there weren’t exactly rules about taking a shortcut through the hubs. But Dad said that it should have been common knowledge, that we don’t allow outsiders in.

Safe to say that he made it crystal clear that there would be much more than a severe telling off, should any of us make that mistake again. I can’t lie–that particular meeting scared the everloving shit out of me. Father can be one intimidating son of a bitch, when he wants to be.

Yeah, some of the more impatient fares can be less than understanding when we refuse to take such measures to cut significant time off their ride. But they’re always welcome to walk…or float, I suppose. Depending on whatever manner or creature takes that backseat.

By the time the violet rune reveals that the path is clear on the plane above, I steadily guide my spruced up old girl back into the mortal realm. Sure enough, I don’t see a single sign of life on the slender back road, leading to the highway ahead.

From here, about a half mile onward, I take a left onto the highway, searching for the right which should only be a few miles from here. There’s a little traffic on this road–just the occasional late night commuter. But nothing substantial enough to hinder my ride.

When I reach that right turn–another slender road, weaving into and through a fairly dense forest, I know the next waypoint will only be a little ways ahead. It can be a strange thing, to see these gargantuan trees nestled away between so many slender and smaller ones. I wonder if any ‘normal’ folks ever find that odd, or if they just take it with a grain of salt.

The second I see the tremendous trunk awaiting me, I waste no time in cutting the wheels, gunning straight into it. Sure, I screech the brakes a bit as I exit through the other side–can’t be too careful. Father would paint me black, blue, and red if I dinged up my newly refurbished cab on a routine transition.

Hell, I’d beat myself up for it too. The old girl has never looked so pretty!

The next three waypoints come and go within minutes, and my headlights are already illuminating the road into county Antrim. I take it slower from here–many slender roads scattered throughout, and I don’t want to miss my turn to access the Dark Hedges.

As predicted, I don’t see a trace of anyone when I pull into the parking area, the pathway ahead leading directly into the passageway I seek. Even with that, though, you never know if any security is nearby, just awaiting some early morning tourist, looking to score a free photo opportunity. Best to trigger my cloak.

While shielded from view, even with the new modifications, movement is limited. If I nudge even one mile over seven miles per hour, it destabilizes and fails. Why seven? No bloody idea. Not my field. I just drive. I couldn’t tell you much at all about the bells and whistles of all the gadgets and gizmos. All I know is that they work.

After making a quick scan of my surroundings, making sure that I am indeed the only person in the vicinity, I trigger the device. Another thing about the cloaking mechanism is that the reality beyond this vehicle appears somewhat blurry when it’s active.

Normally, that wouldn’t be much of an issue. But, given the nature of this particular gateway (or gateways in this case), I need to be able to decipher exactly which trees I need to nestle my car between. As I mentioned before, this pathway possesses the ability to open the doors to a variety of realms. And there are some that I for damn sure don’t want to visit.

For the entrance to Otherworld, though, the specific markings aren’t as intricate as some. No, for this particular doorway, I need to locate the trees which appear just a little more muted in color than the rest. In the daytime, that wouldn’t be much of an issue, even while cloaked. But with the sun down and the headlights snuffed out, even this fairly bright moon won’t help much.

Granted, I have passed through this very gateway before–only twice, though. But enough to have at least a vague idea of how far in I need to go to reach them. Honestly, I’m making this sound far more dramatic than I need to.

With each entry point having its own method of activation, it’s not like I’ll accidentally wind up in some freakish Hell dimension if I pick the wrong spot. But I don’t want to make this take any longer than it needs to.

As I ease down the pathway, keeping one eye on my speedometer, and the other on the trees surrounding me, I can’t help but to take in the eerie beauty of this place. The way the branches of each tree on either side form something of a haunting archway above me, I honestly wonder how many people at least have a passing thought about this road having the ability to lead them elsewhere.

It’s like a tunnel of branches, twigs, and autumn leaves, gently tumbling and swaying as they drift to the ground. Were I not on the job, I do believe I could be quite content to linger for a time, just drinking in the almost melancholy serenity of my surroundings. But this isn’t the time for daydreams and admiration.

Of course, with this ceiling of branches blocking much of the moonlight, it does make it all the more tricky to zero in on the gateway. I suppose that most beautiful things come with a certain degree of cost in the end.

Yeah. Not the time for philosophy either.

Keep your head in the game, kid.

Hmmm, can’t see much of a variance between the hues of the trunks, but I think that I’m at least in the vicinity of where I need to be. Parking in place for a moment, glancing before and behind me, I ease down the windows on each side.

It’s a bit of a risk, poking my head out of the window, while the rest of my vehicle remains hidden from reality. It would be a strange sight indeed, if anyone should happen upon me right now. I’d almost be willing to take the chance of discovery, just to see the reaction.

Nope.

Father would toss my cajónes in a vice if I brought us that kind of exposure.

It’d still be funny though…

Okay, not there yet. I don’t think so anyway.

Easing forward slowly, I keep my eyes fixed on the trees as I roll alongside them.

Shit.

Too dark.

Still can’t tell.

I know I’m close…

Fuck it.

Quickly digging my flashlight from the glove compartment, I illuminate the treeline through my driver’s side window. Again, risky. My head peeking through an invisible cab at night is one thing. Shining a beacon across the side of the bloody road is a good deal more obvious.

Wait…

Found it!

Stopping in place again, estimating the center point of the side of my taxi as parallel to the slightly muted trunk, I shine my light on the opposite side of the road, just to be certain that a matching tree rests across from the other.

Yeah. Looks like we’re in business. Now where the hell did I stash that key? I really should’ve dug that out before I eased onto this bloody road. I think that hefty paycheck has my mind a bit unfocused. Plus, I still can’t seem to stop thinking about…

Shit! Lights ahead, coming closer! What the hell is anyone doing out at this time!?

Rolled the windows back up. Sure, I’m completely hidden from view now. But this path isn’t particularly wide, and I’m right in the dead center of it. They’ll walk into my cab for sure, if I don’t make the transition quick enough.

Where the fuck is that key!? And why the fuck didn’t I dig it out before heading this way!?

Bugger me…

I say ‘key’, but it’s more of a jewel than the conventional artifacts for unlocking doors. A black ruby, lined with streams of gray–like veins running through and across it. Quite beautiful, really. But where the hell is…

Got it!

The lights are drawing closer…

Still time…

Plenty of time…right?

Not unlike many other rituals to open dimensional doorways, there are words to be spoken. As always, you will understand if I do not share this phrase–not that the average person would even be able to pronounce this language, even if I could easily spell it out. I can’t, of course. Just saying.

Pressing the jewel to the center of the cab’s ceiling, I slowly speak aloud the words, gently, and smoothly rotating the blackened ruby. I close my eyes to avoid the inherent flash of light which accompanies this transition–something I wished that someone had warned me about the first time around.

I couldn’t see shit for a good ten minutes that time. Sure, I’d like to be able to keep an eye out for whoever is approaching, but they were still a ways off when I began this process. Plenty of time left…

The phrase isn’t long, but it feels like it takes a while to spit it out with my heart racing and the concentration on keeping the rotation of the jewel smooth and uninterrupted. But right as I hear voices calling out from much closer than I would like, the echoing crack of reality shifting around my taxi allows my racing pulse to settle back down.

My eyelids open to look upon my new surroundings–a sight which always catches my senses off guard, even after multiple visits here this month alone. There is no color here, outside of the varying shades of black, gray, and white. It’s like viewing the world through an ancient television set, almost like a negative of the realms of which I’m far more familiar.

The only hue of any vibrance around is this very vehicle I currently inhabit. That, along with myself, of course. Should I step outside my cab, though, I will gradually begin to blend with my surroundings, which isn’t exactly a good thing.

I mean, I wouldn’t be damned to this place or anything, blocked from ever re-entering my native reality, or something so dramatic. But it would not be a pleasant experience, nor the transfer back to my true self when I do reach the other side once more.

If I were to fully attune to this reality, blending with its complete absence of hue, I would grow quite numb. That’s what I’ve heard anyway. Like, the life would just drain out of me, leaving me perpetually exhausted and unmotivated, until I realigned with somewhere more native to humans.

Given that this place is inhabited by everything from the Fae, to many other types of dark entities, supposedly they feel more at home like this. Maybe that’s why even some of the more vicious beings are far more easy going here.

But it is definitely not a place for mortals. Or whatever the hell I am.

Nothing to worry about, though. I don’t plan on stepping foot outside. I’m just here to grab my client, and head back the way I came. Speaking of which, I need to take note of my current location, just to be certain to have no issues relocating it for the return trip.

The archway I’m parked beneath is not the lone entrance to this plane–there are quite a number of them scattered throughout this realm. But each has its own design. This one looks to be constructed of aged and weathered stone, as though Stonehenge had a little brother, who just happened to be a near perfect, half circle.

I punch my coordinates into my handy dandy, onboard computer (for lack of anything more descriptive to call it), and snap a few shots of the arch itself with my newly installed cameras.

Father actually spared no expense on the repairs and upgrades. The King of Hell must have really put in a good word for me. I didn’t expect that. But I’m not complaining either. Much obliged, Grant…Yeah, I’m not getting used to calling him that anytime soon…

As I begin to ease down the street, the vibrant yellow of my cab draws the eye of those walking the streets alongside the road. The area I’m currently driving through–Fasgadh Dorcha, is one of the major cities in Otherworld. It honestly appears as though my surroundings are a black and white painting of Victorian England, even down to that sensation of brush strokes.

The architecture of the buildings and structures have that sort of look to them, though their angles and contours are far more removed from anything on the mortal plane. Some are tall and slender, others short and wide. But they all lean one way or another, tilted and skewed, here and there.

It really is quite beautiful, though almost mesmerizingly haunting. Were it not for the effects of this place on my more human shell (along with the occupants being less than accepting of outsiders), I do believe I would enjoy spending some time, just walking the streets here.

Of course, in many ways, not only the bland tones, but the dramatically twisted landmarks tend to throw off my equilibrium a bit. It does make it a bit tricky to remain on the right side of the road, especially since even the damn path ahead makes a variety of angles, turns and shifts.

I give a friendly smile and a wave to what looks to be an elderly, grayed out ghoul, her wiry hair nestled into a bun, with twigs and branches sprouting from it. The one she’s with–a tall, skeletal figure, with weathered and dried flesh stretched across its skull, seems as unsettled by me as she does.

Come on, guys! I know this can’t be the first human you’ve seen, especially this time of year.

I just keep going, paying as little attention as I can to the very inhuman creatures coming and going. I swear this place is like something out of a dark fairy tale, with so many haunting inhabitants who would terrify the average bloke just going on about their days.

I won’t say that there aren’t those who are hostile, not unlike the world I just left behind. But it’s a good deal more difficult to decipher who is up to no good around here. When everyone looks as though they’d be happy to gut you and drain you of every fluid your body possesses, yeah…Not the easiest thing to know who would and who wouldn’t.

That’s another of the many reasons I do not step one foot out of my taxi here.

Yeah, enough of that. I need to figure out the best route to reach Tòrachd Ansgrios…Yes, I know my pronunciation is for shit. Judging by the bit of research I did before heading out, it should theoretically be a straight shot, once I reach the outskirts of the city.

Sure, that straight shot is equivalent to about a hundred miles, give or take. But there should be several waypoints along the way, the first of which is only a few miles beyond the city’s border.

Once I cross out of the city, of course, that’s when things begin to get hairy. Those who choose to inhabit the towns and suburbs, or this realms version of these human constructs, generally tend to be quite docile, regardless of how unsettling they may appear to outsiders. Beyond the borders, though–that’s where the wild ones live.

For the most part, with most being aware of how vital our services are, they allow us to pass without incident. But the further out I go, the more treacherous this world can be for both the outsider, and fellow residents alike.

Oh yes, many of the cryptids, creatures, and mythological entities you may have read about in fantasy and horror alike–they’re out there in the darkness. And it’s always dark here, on this side of the looking glass.

It’s quite unnerving how quiet it gets when I cross the borders of whatever city I arrive in here. It’s like even the slightly echoing sounds of the moderately bustling streets fall completely silent the second I pass the last buildings.

There is no moon to speak of in the sky above, only a subtle illumination from somewhere overhead. I can’t say what exists out there, be it celestial objects, or anything relatable to humankind. There is always a dense layer of what I feel inclined to call cloud coverage. But what it actually is up there, I couldn’t even wager a guess.

Sure, this isn’t the only realm which exists beneath a more perplexing and unbeknownst sky. But it feels so much more claustrophobic than most here. It’s almost as though there is a low ceiling above me, rather than an endless, uncertain void.

Yeah, I don’t need to dwell on these things–my mind tends to wander at times, given how little I have learned about many of the planes I’ve visited over the decades. This isn’t the time for that. Not here. Not now. I need to stay vigilant on this road. Especially venturing further out than I ever have before.

There it is…

The howling…

The werewolves always like to make their presence known, especially when they sense something foreign. I’m still getting a feel for many of the adjustments to my old cab. But I believe that all of my prior gadgets are still intact.

Nothing I can’t handle, if any of them draw too close.

Okay, the first waypoint should be coming up any minute. My headlights are barely carving through the pitch darkness surrounding me. But my onboard computer keeps me aware of when I’m getting close.

Just a few miles past the city now. Most of the creatures out there remain distant. They’re likely to get a bit more ‘friendly’ and curious the further out I go.

Yeah. I’m getting a bad feeling about this, all of a sudden…

The waypoints here are a bit more obvious and literal than the supposed roots of Yggdrasil on the mortal plane. Here, they are actual doorways–immense, blackened frames of something similar to wood, which almost appear as the opening to an underpass.

They’re like a massive doorway, with no actual door held by hinges on one side. Just eerie frames which appear carved from a substance not unlike rock and wood combined. But this does make them a bit more inviting than a large tree trunk, with no apparent opening.

The second my computer alerts me, I cut my wheels, aiming for the side of the road. This one is right where a breakdown lane would be, if these roads were designed to match those above. It’s angled enough to where I don’t need to make a dramatic turn, but I still need to keep my speed consistent to break through.

I burst through the other side, my wheels jarring as I make contact with the road again. I knew this was coming–I’ve passed through that one before. I’m not sure why the exit end is elevated so much. Yeah, there’s something of a ramp leading up to it, for coming back through from this end. But with the accelerated speed to break through, my tires don’t even graze against that incline.

At least my suspension is solid. I barely even skid when I hit the tarmac again. The old girl is handling so much better than she used to. I need to remember to compliment the mechanics on a job well done.

More howling.

They’re closer now…

Yeah…

I hit the gas a little harder, risking potentially overshooting the next waypoint, if I get too hasty. Nothing I can’t handle. If I do miss it, I’ll just pop a quick U-turn and circle back.

C’mon, kid! You’ve been literally through Hell and back now. A few full on nightmare creatures shouldn’t freak you out after that.

Right.

Easier said than done…

The next two waypoints come and go with no incident. That last one was a bit further off the road. I had to go off roading a bit to reach that. The ground feels dodgy beneath the tires. It’s not dirt or grass, or really anything I could describe in a way you might fully understand.

It’s almost more like diamond plated metal, but with the texture of wet sand. The wheels tend to spin a bit, struggling to hold traction. Not enough to slow my speed enough to prevent me from crossing through. But enough to make me nervous that it might, if that makes sense.

I see eyes out there now–countless numbers of them. Whether it’s the illumination of my headlights, causing them to reflect back at me, or the nature of the entities out in the dark themselves, I can’t say. But it’s eerily quiet again.

They just watch me.

Silent…

Still…

Quite unnerving…

Can’t be much further out now. Not sure how much time has passed, but…

What was that?

There’s a sort of…rumbling sound…

Can’t see a damn thing in the rearview.

Hmmm. I think…Yeah. They installed cameras on the sides and back as well. Haven’t messed with them much yet. Let me see…

Oh shit!

Almost missed the next waypoint.

Yeah, I should be getting close now. According to my GPS, I’m only a few miles out from Tòrachd Ansgrios now.

Sheesh! It’s dark out here–like, so much darker than before. The headlights are barely carving a dent in the pitch black ahead. And even these cameras aren’t revealing…much…

Oh God…

The rumbling…I didn’t even think about it after bursting through that last waypoint. That looks like a veritable herd of…what are they!? I don’t think I’ve ever…Christ, they’re fast!

I’m gunning it as hard as I can push it, but they’re still keeping up–maybe even gaining on me!

What the hell do they want!?

Ugh! You know what they want, Clarence! You’re only operating an interdimensional vehicle! Even if they don’t intend to use it, they could fetch a hefty price tag on whatever sort of black market they have around here.

Not far off now…

I can make it…

Fuck!

One of them is already on me! It just nailed the side of the cab, screeching out in an ear piercing wail.

My tires battle against the road as I wrestle the steering wheel. It takes me a moment to regulate, but that gives more of them time to catch up.

One after the other, they thrust their hulking bodies against the doors. I just got her fixed, and you assholes are beating dents into the old girl!

Right…Right, that’s my concern. Not the fact that, if they succeed in forcing me off the road, they’ll surely tear me limb from limb.

Gotta get ahead of them. I’m pushing the gas as hard as I can, but I can’t…Wait…

That’s right, Ed, the head mechanic, told me about another upgrade they installed. Haven’t had the opportunity to try it out yet, and I can’t push it too many times before it’ll overheat the engine. Just a short boost. That’ll be enough.

And the switch to activate it is…

Got it! Right below the radio.

Holy shiiiiiit!!!

Boost, my ass! This is fucking light speed! I feel the front end trying to lift!

What the hell did they juice this with!?

Thank God…slowing back down now. My guts were in my damn throat! I just knew I was about to spew!

Whew! That was crazy…

Back to normal, but I have a good lead on them now. I still see them back there…hopefully I bought enough time before they’re on me again…

Not far off now, and thankfully I had already made it through the last waypoint before I had to pull that trick. I would’ve overshot it for sure. I’ll make it to the client.

But what the hell do I do when I get there, with these assholes still in pursuit!?

Maybe, if they jump in as fast as possible–maybe I can get back on the return trip before they catch up completely.

Jesus…

That cloud of dust, even from this distance now…how many of them are there!?

I can’t even make out what they are, between the darkness and that dense fog they’re kicking up. I’m sure I have something in the trunk that’ll come in handy, if it comes to it.

GPS is blinking now. I don’t know how big of an area this is, nor the exact location of my fare. They said they’d be at the southern border, and I’m coming from the south, but…

Gotta keep my eyes peeled, and keep my speed consistent, if I’m going to stay ahead of that…hmmm…does ‘murder flock’ sound a bit too dramatic?

Right.

Of course

Lightning…

Nice touch…

It would seem a storm is brewing. Just what I need, on top of everything. If nothing else, with how pitch black this side of Otherworld is, the fairly constant flashes help. Heh, I guess there is a sky up there after all. That’s something…

Holy hell…that is one ominous looking structure off in the distance. When the sky lit up there for a moment, all I could make out was the silhouette of it. But yeah, that’s huge. Can’t even tell how far off it is–that gargantuan, twisted mammoth. Eerie as hell…

Jesus…They’re howling now–a haunting chorus of wailing shrieks.

Whatever they’re planning, I have a bad feeling, I might just find out before I can escape this place.

There are two pillars ahead–just saw their shadowed shape when the sky lit up again. Looks like they may have had a gate between them at some point. Now they’re just left over ruins. A lot of that around here.

How ancient is this place?

I…I think I see my client! I hope that’s who that silhouette next to the left pillar is. No time to waste. That dense cloud approaching from behind me is getting closer by the moment.

I got this…

The second I’m close enough, I snatch my emergency brake, spinning the cab around. I don’t even take the time to look at the one I pull alongside as my taxi comes to a halt, my eyes immediately locked onto whatever it is approaching.

“Is it you!?” I practically scream out after rolling down the passenger side window.

“Scratch and Sons, I presume?” the woman says, her tone light and carefree, yet with an underlying hint of condescension.

I want to say something more along the lines of, ‘Well, fucking duh, lady!’ assuming the shiny yellow paintjob and glowing ‘taxi’ light on the roof would be a dead giveaway. But I settle for a more professional,

“Yes ma’am!”

She nonchalantly opens the back door opposing her, offering me a friendly smile in the rearview. Her appearance is quite youthful, though her expression is stern and distant. Her hair is long and straight. Jet black, making her pale flesh practically paper white.

“You made good time, young man,” she says, still seeming completely unfazed by the ground rumbling from my pursuers.

‘Young man’? She looks to be around my age…okay, the age I look, I suppose. Semantics.

“Um, I did…thanks! You might wanna buckle up though. Gotta try to outrun…”

“I see,” she interrupts, “it would seem that you were followed, yes?”

“Seems so. Yup!”

“Will this be a problem?”

Her tone is still mellow, but lined with something more akin to parental disappointment. Shit, lady! It’s not like I invited them along!

“Nah. Shouldn’t be an issue,” I reply, already skidding my tires against the uneven ground.

She utters a disapproving, “Hmmm,” as I speed toward what now appears to be only a handful of creatures, still kicking up that healthy cloud of dust.

Sure, it’s not quite as intimidating as what I thought I saw in the rearview, but these things definitely don’t look friendly. There only looks to be maybe six of them. But, from what I can make out through the fog, they seem pretty huge, and far from human–not surprising, given that one of them managed to almost push me off the road.

Okay, everything around here is far from fucking human. But these guys could be solid candidates for the next big, demonic UFC match. Horns of different shapes and sizes protruding from the foreheads and scalps. Pale gray flesh, with limbs of jet black. Hooved feet, which seem to be able to make a good deal more haste than my regular old, fleshy stompers.

Each one of them looks to be at least seven foot tall, maybe three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. The best I can hope for is that they scatter when they see me gunning right at them. Of course, on the flip side of that, they could be like a full on brick wall if they don’t.

Shit…

“Do you truly intend to make an effort to just force right through them?” my client asks, her tone now far more sarcastic and cold.

“They’ll scatter before I hit them,” I say with far more confidence than I have a right to, “Besides…do you see a better option here?”

My reply is a good deal less professional this time, my frustration with her attitude, and the concern of potentially obliterating my car overruling my own well being. But what the hell does she expect!?

“Stop the cab,” she says with an exhausted sigh.

“Ma’am,” I say, trying my hardest to not be rude, “I will get you to your destination. You don’t have to…”

“Please…Stop. The. Cab…”

Yeah, she sounds annoyed. You know what? Fuck you, lady! You want out, get the hell out! Yeah, this is a waste of a damn trip, and that paycheck sounded pretty damn nice. But I don’t need to put up with this shit.

I slam the brakes, skidding the old girl to a halt. Sure, I’ll have to hit the gas as soon as she gets out and hope to God I can still get around or through those who are unsettlingly close now. But I’m more pissed off than scared right now.

She opens the door, stepping out. I ease my foot against the pedal, just waiting for her door to close. Before I get the chance, though, she leans back in.

“Wait here,” she says, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the front of the cab.

What the hell is she doing!? She’s just standing there now, right before my front end! She looks completely relaxed, like she doesn’t have a care in the world, even with that cloud almost right on us now.

“Cover your ears,” she says, glancing back at me for a moment, before turning back to those who appear to show no sign of slowing.

Before I have a chance to question her, or anything about this situation, the scene before me unfolds. The realization of what my client is hits me like a damn wrecking ball, just in time to do exactly as she recommended.

Of course, even with my palms pressed to my ears, the echoing sound of the banshee’s wail practically deafens me. My stomach cramps so hard, I buckle in my seat, while a thin steam of blood leaks from each ear and both nostrils.

If nothing else, once I trigger the noise dampening switch, fumbling my knee against the damn thing–while it doesn’t block it out completely, it allows my equilibrium to regulate enough to take in the spectacle of the dust cloud settling.

The creatures fall to their knees, their bodies writhing and squirming on the ground. But the wail doesn’t stop, not until the last of them falls completely still. With that, the woman strolls toward them, kicking a couple of them with her pale, bare feet.

They show no trace of movement, not even a twitch as she thrusts her foot against them. She turns back to face me, an expression of indifference etched upon her face. I always assumed banshees to be these hideous, old crones. But she is quite stunning, if a bit of a heartless wench.

I mean, I wasn’t exactly excited to see what these guys had in store for me. But this!? Yeah. I’m feeling a bit less determined to get this lady to the mortal plane. Naturally, I’m not about to tell her that, or even think about suggesting that we call it off. I’m not looking to join that pile of bodies.

She casually saunters back to the cab, pacing to the driver’s side door, rather than the back seat she vacated.

“I’m afraid, in light of recent events–my lack of faith in my driver, and the strain of ending the lives of those filthy demons having soured me on this experience,” she says, now standing right outside my door, barely even glancing at me, “I would rather make other arrangements.”

“Ma’am,” I reply, rolling my window down, leaning out a little to face her, “I can get you to where you need to go. I had this situation handled. You don’t…”

Her slender fingers clasping my throat quickly put an end to my bargaining.

I try to reach my center console, hoping to Christ I have something handy in there–something potent enough to fend off a goddamn, psycho banshee! But, before I can even hope to fumble something out of there, I feel my body being pulled.

Why the hell did I roll it down!? Did I really just become a generic, horror movie idiot!?

Before she manages to yank me through, with one final, desperate attempt to prevent myself from being tossed like a damn ragdoll, my fingers manage to locate one last object–the keys dangling from the ignition of the old girl.

With one quick twist, the engine snuffs out, and the keys are clutched in my hand. If nothing else, she appears distracted enough not to have noticed this. Also, with the new improvements, the engine purrs like a kitten, rather than its prior growling like an asthmatic, five pack a day smoker of a jaguar. So it’s not quite as obvious.

She tosses me to the ground, the wind immediately thrust from my lungs. I gasp, cough, buckle and wince. I think I know what’s coming. And, with anything I could use to defend myself now considerably out of reach, I fear that Otherworld may be my final resting place.

The woman barely even acknowledges me, as she reaches into my cab, unlocks the door, and slips into the seat from which I was evicted. Sure, she seems to be struggling to figure out how to operate the taxi, the sounds of buttons and switches only barely reaching my ears which continue to ring from her wail and the impact with the ground. But that won’t buy me enough time to conjure a way out of this.

Surely she’ll realize that I snatched the key, even if she doesn’t know that it’s required to make the damn car go vroom, vroom! At best, even if I could sneak to the trunk without her noticing, I wouldn’t have long to dig through my stash before she figured out what I was up to.

Or so I assume, until two things happen at once.

First, while she mutters under her breath, attempting to decipher how to crank the engine without the keys, she inadvertently pops the trunk. Much obliged there, deus ex machina!

Second, my eyes focusing on the now open boot are thrust back to the car with the sound of something making heavy contact with the hood.

At least one of those creatures isn’t dead! Yeah, it’s pounding on the windshield, certain to break through any second. But having to explain even more new damage to my old man is the least of my concerns at this moment.

Wasting no time stressing over any of this, I quickly shuffle to the trunk. I hear the door to my taxi opening again. Predictably, the banshee shrieks, the sound of the heavy beast toppling to the ground not nearly as distracting as my now crippled ears.

Fortunately, this one doesn’t last as long as the last. But the queasiness and ringing make it a good deal more difficult to focus on what I’m doing. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for–I haven’t inventoried my stash for some time. I know I have something, though. I have to!

Clearly, this snooty banshee bitch is taking the attempted assault personally. I only take a moment to peek around the side of the cab to see what’s going on–assess how much time I have before I have to choose between sprinting for my life and taking a stand.

Shit! My fingers are already losing their color!

The creature is down. He took the full, concentrated impact of that wail. It’s writhing on the dirt, puking, and bucking over. That doesn’t stop her from thrusting her foot into its midsection and face.

Gotta make this quick!

Sure, I don’t think these things are exactly friendly to humans–they were chasing me down, after all. But I can’t just stand by and watch her torment this thing to death.

Fuck me! Am I growing a conscience!?

This is not the time for that!

Take this bitch down. Accept that this fare was a wash. And get the ever-loving fuck back to the mortal realm.

Yeah…

Simple enough, right!?

Okay, back to digging. I still feel light headed and nauseous. She’s still beating the…whatever the hell that thing is!

Christ, her cackling laughter is almost as painful as her wail!

Hmmm. Invisibility bracelet…That could help if I can’t find anything else. Maybe I can just slip into the cab and…and what? Jump her while she’s not looking!?

Healing elixir–might need that soon enough…All seeing glasses, warding ring, yada, yada…Do I not have anything useful against fucking banshees!?

Oh! This might work–a mirror mask. But would she even be affected by her own wail?

Fuck it. Worth a shot…

I slip that on my face in preparation. Damn this thing is uncomfortable…

Boltless crossbow…why not? Surely a nice pointy thing in the liver would leave a mark.

Do banshees have livers?

Screw it! Pointy things hurt!

Hmmm, are these shackles enchanted? Surely I wouldn’t hold onto them if they weren’t–most of the entities, creatures, and beings I transport can’t be so easily bound.

Damnit!

I don’t hear anything…

Is she done with her victim?

Footsteps…

Fuck!

No time left!

I bound from behind my taxi, rolling across the ground like some idiotic, juiced up action hero…twisting my damn ankle in the process.

Christ, that is one eerie ass, satisfied smile! Oh, your face is far less pretty now, ya mad harpy!

Yeah, you think you got me pinned, don’tcha, sweetheart!?

As she opens her mouth, likely preparing to echo another agonizing wail into the night, I fire off my crossbow. Naturally, the phantom bolt doesn’t make its mark–she catches the fucking thing before it can reach her throat.

Laughing like a complete lunatic, she throws her hands out, crumbling the bolt to dust. I fire three more times, back to back, adjusting my aim with every shot. With almost lazy swats, she deflects each of them.

Are you fucking kidding me!?

Yeah, you smug twat, smiling and shaking your head at me. I just gotta hope this mask has at least some sort of effect on her.

Maybe, if I can…

Shit!

She leaps right at me, cupping her hands around my face. I try to keep her finger from prying the mask off, but fuck is she strong!

I press my crossbow against her side, pulling the trigger over, and over again. She squeals out in a manner that inspires my insides to flip and cringe. But, it not being directed at me–more just howling with pain, this doesn’t have the same effect as her more purposeful wailing.

She outstretches her hands to each side, claws peeling her cuticles back as they extend. This is gonna hurt!

Left first, and then right, she tears across my chest and gut. I don’t know how deep she got them, but I immediately cough out thick globs of blood.

Again, I pull the trigger, this time pushing the crossbow against her sternum, angling up in hopes of skewering whatever fragment of a heart may beat in that heaving chest.

Her screams reach a far more deafening pitch, the crimson fluids now spewing from my ears, nose, and mouth, as well as the octuplet of deep gashes across my torso.

Christ, the pitch of her shrieks are making my bloody eyes cross! Feeling so dizzy now, I can barely keep my consciousness from fading.

If I pass out…Yeah…I’ll be done for, for sure. Can’t give in. With all the shit I’ve survived, if some crazy ass banshee is the one to finish me off, I will be enormously pissed.

Shit! She’s gathering herself back up. How many bolts have I fired into her now!? And she’s still showing no signs of slowing.

She begins to open her mouth, readying her fiercest wail, directed right at me. Yeah, she knows what the mask does, I suspect–she resists her default attack. Her wounds are oozing thick, black blood.

Right. It’s not like it would be any other color here. My hands have already lost their hue. Don’t have much longer, exposed to this reality. I need to get back into my cab!

She hunches over, spreading those claws still dripping red, readying her next assault. At least my blood still has some color…

Another shriek–not aimed at me, but with her head pointing up to the sky. It still churns my guts and streams more fluids from my ears and nose.

As she begins to bound from the cracked ground, sending a small cloud of dust behind her, I hear more movement. Could it really..?

The second her feet break free of the gritty tarmac (or whatever the hell that is), her body is thrust back down, her head smacking hard against the surface. Jesus, that creature is in rough shape, blood trickling from God knows how many wounds. But it’s still kicking…ish…

It’s definitely weak, barely holding on by the looks of it. But that is one satisfied grin on its mangled face, as the skull of the pale woman makes contact with the ground.

She’s dazed, and the creature is too, the way it sways from one side to the other. It’s just hunching over her, panting hard.

Finish her off, you dipshit! Just pound that hoofed foot against her…

Damnit!

She digs her claws into the dirt, spreading her mouth so wide, it could swallow my head whole, if she wanted. The creature begins to move in, but it almost appears paralyzed with fear.

No time…

Gotta move fast!

I struggle against my uneasy body, begging it to function. Wincing from the pain of my gaping wounds, I can feel my heart pulsing through every tear. But I have to make it in time.

My feet battle and stumble as they attempt to gain traction. The creature begins to turn, understanding that it can’t stop the wail from breaking loose. But if this works–if I can make it in time, you let that shriek fly, you mad she-bitch!

I only barely manage to push the creature aside, toppling it to the ground, as I turn to face the rage filled banshee. Her squinted eyes don’t have time to register what’s happening by the time she unleashes the full force of her wail.

Christ, I hope this works…

I haven’t had the opportunity to use this mask before. It’s been lingering in my trunk for quite some time, tucked away in its pine box for the right occasion. As the banshees wail quickly transforms into an agonized squeal within seconds at most, it becomes quite clear to me that this is indeed the right occasion in question.

As blood spurts from her ears, nose, mouth and eyes, her legs giving out beneath her, I can see that the one who traded me this mask for a ride was not underselling its power. While many repelling objects simply redirect the attack back at the attacker, this one is a little more potent. It not only reflects the energy directed toward it, but multiplies it.

I suppose, even if the banshee was indeed immune to its own wail, a bit of extra juice behind it is more than she can handle. As she twitches and spasms upon the bumpy ground, fluids still steadily oozing from every orifice her head has to offer, I can see that she isn’t getting back up anytime soon.

While I stand there pondering on both the betrayal of my client, as well as the wasted trip with no fucking paycheck, my skeleton almost leaps from my slack jaw when an immense hand wraps around my shoulder.

“You…have my gratitude,” the winded, demonic creature says, still struggling to remain upright.

“Um, yeah. You’re welcome,” I reply, still uncertain if I’ve just escaped the oven to jump headfirst into the microwave.

“And you also have my apologies…for pursuing you. And for the damage we caused. But we hoped to intervene before…”

“Wait,” I interrupt, finally redirecting my gaze from the writhing banshee to the one who still appears to barely be holding onto consciousness, “so you weren’t trying to steal my cab, or leave me bloody on the side of the road?”

“We are enforcers, not hooligans,” the creature says with an exhausted laugh, nodding to the banshee, bleeding on the ground, “Callah has only recently escaped our custody. We intercepted her request for your services, but were uncertain of her location. So…”

“So, you kept an eye out for me, and tried to stop me before I got to her…”

“Indeed. We meant you no harm–we should not have gotten so aggressive. We know of the services your company provides. We understand that you are neutral, and…necessary…But we could not allow her to escape this realm. Nor to access another.”

With that, he gives me a nod, limping over to where the pale woman still twitches. With some groaning and moaning, he kneels down beside her, slipping chains from his belt, buckling her wrists and ankles.

When another of the enforcers staggers up beside me, I almost leap out of my skin again, caught off guard by the movement in my peripherie. This one, who appears perhaps female in her movements and body structure, also gives me an acknowledging nod, leaning down next to her associate.

Together, they lash what looks to be some sort of muzzle around the banshee’s mouth, before they both get back to their feet…well…hooves.

I take this opportunity to head back to my trunk, both returning the items I retrieved, and making use of the healing elixir. It takes the rest of the vial to patch me up, but it does work quickly, sealing my shredded torso back shut within seconds.

Hurts like a bitch, though.

Worth it.

While the creatures approach their fallen members, each of whom seems to be gradually coming back to awareness, I just let out a winded sigh, studying the damage to my windshield, hood, and the fresh dents in the doors.

“I…well…apologies…for that,” one of the bulkier members of these demonic enforcers says, rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah,” I reply, exhaling again with a chuckle, “I just had the old girl fixed up too. And I’m apparently not even getting paid for this damn trip.”

The female gives me a smile (I think it’s a smile. Not easy to read the expressions on those faces), holding up a clawed finger. She approaches the one who has now fallen silent and still on the ground, and starts digging through her robe.

I hear some jingling as she searches, inspiring my pulse to reignite with the thought that maybe the mad wench really did have the payment she promised. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a Jin Dynasty Tianjuan Tongbao (not that I can tell anyway, from the pictures I looked up) amongst the handful of coins of varying shades and sizes, and other trinkets and jewels. But at least I might not be going home completely empty handed.

The female demon creature strolls back to me, the coins, baubles, and jewelry cupped in her sizable hands. She gives me a sheepish grin and a shrug, tilting her head to what she holds, dropping them into my open palms.

I just give her a smile and a grateful nod.

I’ll look through this stuff later–assess whatever value they may contain. Sure, I still need to get my taxi fixed up…again…But even if this doesn’t cover the cost (as I know this one won’t be on the house, like last time), I still have plenty set aside.

Yes, it still chaps my ass that I came all the way out here, damn near got knocked off the road, before almost being wailed and clawed to death by a hellbent, banshee, she-bitch. But I suppose there’s no sense in dwelling on it. I’m still kicking, after all.

At this point, of course, I take note of my steadily greying flesh–all the way up to my shoulders now. I should probably get back into my cab and crank it up while they’re taking care of all this. Surely my part in all this is done.

“You guys got this?” I call out to the fairly distracted group, who appear to be bantering back and forth, surrounding their now catatonic prisoner.

The one I knocked out of the way, to take the brunt of the banshee’s wail gives me another nod, before approaching the taxi.

“Again, you have my gratitude,” he says, bowing his head, and slipping a hand into the pocket of the pants I didn’t even realize he was wearing (I thought he just had really furry legs…).

He retrieves what looks to be an actual key–a long, sort of jagged, but intricately inscribed, black key.

“The way is not always open to Otherworld, from your side of reality,” he says, presenting the key to me, “This will allow you passage, should you ever have reason to visit beyond the thinned veil.”

Having no bloody idea what else to say, nor knowing if I will ever even have the desire to return to this damn place, I just offer a simple,

“Um…thanks!”

Again, the hulking creature bows his head, as do the others watching on. I only return the sentiment.

With that, I set my GPS for the return trip, taking a quick mental note of the distance between the waypoints. I very much hope that the way back will be far less eventful.

Yeah, I’m still pretty pissed about going through all of this, and not getting that hefty paycheck that brought me out this way. But maybe there is something of worth in this bundle of shiny things.

I can’t really get a read on any of it, just from a glance–not with them stripped of any sort of color scheme, having attuned to this reality. The hue is gradually returning to my extremities, so maybe these coins and trinkets won’t be far behind.

For now, into the center console for them. Hmmm, the amulet the faceless woman gave me is still in there. I still need to look into that too. Why do I feel like I’m stalling on that?

To my surprise, given how my luck has been today, I have no issues reaching the mortal plane. Yes, with how late the hour has grown, the sun is shining down on the Dark Hedges when I reemerge between the trees. Fortunately, though, it still seems early enough to avoid any tourists.

I just activate my cloak as quickly as I can, making my way back to the main road. My stomach is rumbling–I could really use something to eat. But, some of my flesh is yet to regain its color. That’d be a tough one to explain…

I guess I’ll just…

(Notification rings.)

Fuck.

Really?

After that trip, I am not in the mood for…

Oh…

“Calista would like to see you–Sophia,” the message reads.

Calista…

Shit!

Totally zoned out there for a second. Gotta pull over…

Calista…

That name…

Her voice…

My God…

“I’ll be there. When and where?”

My heart is racing…

(Notification rings again.)

“Where we are currently located is disjointed from your time. It may be weeks. But I shall contact you again soon. Just be ready. Much to discuss.”

Damnit! Why contact me now if..?

Cool it, kid. No sense in getting worked up.

She wants to see me…

Calista…

“I’m ready now…”

Nope. Impatient…

“Can I call her?”

Damnit, Clarence! What are you, thirteen fucking years old!?

“I’ll be ready. Just let me know.”

Good enough.

Hands are trembling. If nothing else, the color is coming back now. Maybe the hastening blood flow.

This feeling…

It’s just…

(Notification rings once more.)

“She waits for you, still…”

“I wait for her too…”

Why did I type that? Do I actually wait for her, or do I just feel the need to return the sentiment?

It feels right. Feels like the right thing to say.

Okay. Gotta calm down. Gotta get back to the hub and get my cab fixed up. A new day has just begun on this side of the world, and I can’t take another fare until my taxi looks all professional again.

One thing at a time, kid.

Maybe I should have a smoke before getting back on the road. Get myself calmed down, and just relax for a moment. I’ll worry about tomorrow’s problems when tomorrow comes.

For now–once I get back to the depot, I could use a drink…

Credit: William Rayne

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