Echoes Of The Other World

Prologue

     Most stories begin with the words "Once Upon a Time," but in a world as big and complex as ours, not all tales are meant to be shared or heard.

     The story I am about to tell you is one of these, for it is a tale of the Other Side. The place of magic and the realm of the dead, a place where the stories that come to life are the nightmares that feed on the living. A place where the monsters live in the dark, in the forgotten corners, and in the hearts of all things.

     This story isn't a fairytale. There are no knights, or dragons, or even princesses. No wizards, or witches, or talking animals. There are no happy endings, no true love, or happily ever afters. It is the story of a boy who carried the shadow of darkness with him and how that shadow destroyed his family and everyone he loved.

     But don't get confused. I'm not here to tell you about how the boy lived his life, I have no interest in that. So, instead, I'll let him tell you that side of the story. What I'm here to tell you is the way that boy died and how I finally got to meet him.

     My side of the story begins the way that most stories end.

     With a scream.

     There is a moment before death where time slows, and the mind catches up to the reality of its own demise. It is in that moment of clarity that some see their lives flash before their eyes.

     But not so with this boy.

     When his life ended, he did not think about the life he was leaving behind or the loved ones he would never see again. He did not wonder about the future or if the world would miss him. He thought about nothing but the darkness.

     There is no fear quite like the terror of being consumed by the dark. No horror as complete as when your eyes open to find only blackness before you, and you are left alone, wondering whether it is the dark that is blind or if it is your own mind.

     You might be wondering who I am and what part I have to play in this tale.

     I am a man, or at least I was once. My name is lost to the years, but my story is not. My story is as old as the universe and as new as the day the earth was formed. I am the keeper of secrets. I've lived my life in shadows, hiding and protecting secrets that, if revealed, would incite terror and suffering. I am a dream, but mostly a nightmare, and I am the reason that this boy is going to die.

     I have had many names. I have been the night sky and the wind, but most importantly, a whisper. My name has been on the lips of everyone and no one. It is the silence between words, the emptiness inside a heart, the absence of breath in the lungs.

     But, my true name is Darkness.

     And it was to the land of Darkness that this boy was coming.

     Not without a fight, of course. No matter how many times I tried to keep him in the land of Darkness, he never wanted to stay. He fought against my hold, trying to escape the pull. I don't know if it was his stubbornness or his fear, but whatever the reason, it was futile. I am Darkness, and the pull was too strong for him.

     When I was finally able to pull him through the portal, he screamed in pain. His body was changing, his soul shifting to become a part of the land. And then he fell, screaming into the void. He screamed so loudly that it shook the ground and caused the stars to fall from the sky. The trees bent and snapped, the mountains crumbled, and the air split with a sound so horrible that it made the earth itself tremble.

     Boys like him didn't belong in places like this. The dead should not walk among the living, but there are exceptions to every rule. This boy was special. He possessed the rarest and most dangerous power.

     He could walk between the worlds.

     The boy had done it many times. Only when he was dreaming, but he had managed to do what no other could, and he had crossed over into the land of the dead.

     He did not know the power he possessed, but he knew his dreams were different. He knew the dreams he had were not his own. They belonged to someone else. They were not like any other dream because, unlike most dreams that fade and disappear the next day, the ones this boy had always stayed with him.

     And it was through his dreams that he learned about me. I've waited a long time for this boy. I've waited years for his soul to cross into the other side. I've spent the last decade of his life preparing for this moment, watching him, and waiting.

     I hope you will forgive me if I ask that you not read further. The words written here are not meant to be seen by any other eyes, especially not those who would be hurt by the knowledge that they contain.

     But since you've come this far, maybe I am wrong.

     Maybe you're stronger than you think.

     Maybe you need to hear this story more than I want to keep it from you.

     But in order for me to tell you this story, I must start at the very beginning. I must tell you how I met him and how I got to kill him. Don't worry, the boy didn't die at my hands. Not really. In truth, the boy had killed himself. It was an accident like many that happened to people like him, but I had planted the idea in his mind.

     Does that make me a killer?

     Perhaps.

     The truth is that I am a killer. I've killed more people than there are stars in the sky and atoms in the universe. I have killed the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak. I've killed men, women, and children. It is what I do. I kill and destroy. I am destruction incarnate.

     But the boy had something that no one else did.

     He had the power to kill me.

     And that's why I had to stop him.