In pursuit, I caught up with him as he flipped a switch causing the entire tunnel to come alive for as far as I could see in both directions. Astonished by its length, I lost track of my tour guide, who hid snickering in the distance.
“You know I can hear you.”
And with that, the lights went out.
“Funny.”
“Is it,” he said from behind.
“SHIT—you just about gave me a heart attack.”
“What if I had been Montresor and chained you to the wall? How would you escape this old fool you took to be unread?”
“Scream like hell, you crazy bastard.”
“Really? That’s what you want me to tell Karen when I drop you off. ‘Yep, said he would scream like a girl.”‘
“You make the “Girl” reference, and we’re both going to be in trouble.”
“You got a point, but seriously, what would you do?”
“I don’t know?”
“If you were Fortunato chained tightly to the wall, you would be screwed, But you’re not. You’re a shifter with survival skills and the ability to switch from thick to thin. So scream like a girl if you will, but your hands will slip free.”
I felt like a fool standing there in silence. Jeff was right, and I needed to start thinking like a shifter. “Lesson learned, my friend.”
“Then we shall have another glass of wine?”
“Wine?”
Okay, maybe not wine,” he said, pouring from a flask. “But the day is long, and our nerves need calming.”
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
“This is not going to end like The Cast of Amontillado, is it, friend.”
“Amontilawhat?”
“Nothing,” I replied as I followed the old man down a dark shaft lit only by his headlamp.
“This is one of many escape hatches you’ll find throughout the property,” he said from below.
“Why so deep?”
“Eric Hall, the man who designed all this, needed the entire complex at a certain depth for his security blanket to work.”
“And what exactly does this blanket do?” I asked, stepping off the last rung.
“It prevents government satellites from detecting our underground compound. I think a lot of people would be surprised by the power they have over our heads.”
“How does it work?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m a farmer,” he replied as he disappeared through an oval doorway.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
“Mrs. Wilcox tells me I won’t get to go trick-or-treating this year. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I’m afraid so, Jeff, and send my apologies to Olivia.”
“Are you kidding? She lives for weddings. I’m not sure if you know it, but she’s president of the Elysian Woman’s Club. On top of that, she bakes and apparently, has plans for a colossal cake with a Halloween theme.”
“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, so send her a big thank you.”
“I’ll do it, now climb on. We’ve got a tour to complete.”
“I haven’t ridden on a tractor fender in quite some time.”
“Well, hold on, so you don’t fall off. I’d hate to tell the Chief I ran over her fiance.
Our first stop was the old farmhouse where Jeff hurt his foot. Once inside, we descended steps into the basement, where I stopped halfway, expecting them to move like the ones in Doc’s house. Who, by the way, has taken to his new nickname quite nicely, as most everyone has started to refer to him in that way.
“Were not fancy over here, son. You’re going to have to keep walking,” said Jeff as he continued to the floor below.
“Who’s place is this?”
“Mine now. It came with the land. Been here a long time, I imagine.”
As he dug through a can of rusty screws, he continued. “Some say the place is haunted.”
“Is it?”
“It is if I’m a ghost. Now, put some pressure right there, Christian, while I maneuver this screw in between the blocks.”
As he did, it clicked, causing a wall section to swing wide open, revealing a ten-by-ten room. Along the back, shelves of liquor bottles overlooked two shot glasses standing ready at the bar. While an old jukebox full of vinyl stood quietly in the corner. A round card table finished out the decor.
“This is your labyrinth?”
He chuckled. “Nonsense, this is where I come to get away from Olivia.”
“You old drunk, no wonder you hurt your foot.”
“A connoisseur, my friend. Now let us drink to privacy and secrecy as we continue on our journey.”
Stepping out into the basement, we once again made our way across fallen boards from the collapsed floor above to another wall. And just as before, he worked a small hole, revealing another doorway.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
“She was my friend, and we had a pact stating the other could use our body as a verifiable should we die at home. It’s not uncommon. Shifters do it all the time, and it’s the only way to get a verifiable body as the death is never reported. In other words, there is no doppelgänger problem.
“What happened?”
“Pneumonia, three years ago. It caught us all off guard. She was the picture of health, as you can see.”
I grinned at that.
“Do her parents know?”
“Horace does. Her mother Nelly was killed in a car accident.”
“His name sounds familiar.”
“It should. Remember the laughs he got from his reptilian joke the night you fainted.”
“Horace Turbeville, the old jokester himself.”
“He meant no harm, and he thinks the world of you. Laughter helps him cope. He fell into a deep depression after Isabella died. It was over a year before I saw him smile. I can’t say as I smiled much either that year.”
“It must be weird for him to see you in her body.”
“On the contrary, our families were very close. And Horace and I are the only ones left. Mom, Dad, and Ethan Wright, Isabella’s husband, were also in the car the night Nelly died. Ethan volunteered to take them home after an Elysian meeting while Horace, Isabella, and I cleaned up. Dad was Chief back then.
“Thanks for telling me. It means a lot to have you finally open up.”
“You’re welcome. Now we need to get off this emotional roller coaster. I have a wedding to plan.”
I took her place by the window as she picked up the phone.
“Linda, we’ve moved the wedding up to Halloween. Can my maid of honor pull off a miracle?”
I don’t know what Linda said, but the laughter coming from Karen was music to my ears. As they talked, I looked out the window and I saw two white crosses nestled inside the tree line. I’m not sure how I missed seeing them before.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, placing my hand on her shoulder.
“Our baby won’t look like me.”
“Of course, it will.”
No, it won’t. I got pregnant in Isabella’s body. That’s why Keith called the other day. He told me what I already knew, but I was hoping—.”
“Hoping what?”
“That he would tell me I was wrong, that if I shifted early in the pregnancy, everything would be okay.
“I should have never gotten pregnant. I knew the risk, but wanted to be with you. So I convinced myself to use my own birth control pills in her body. A mistake I can’t take back.”
“What are you saying? Do you want an abortion?”
She looked up sharply. “Never, The baby will be of me. But the physical traits will be Isabella’s. I’ll just have to live with that.”
“I’m so used to seeing you in this body it never crossed my mind that the baby would not look like you. I’ll see you in our baby’s face regardless. Remember what you told me the first time we made love?”
She paused, then said, “I do,” in a standing embrace. “And thank you for reminding me; you could not have chosen better words. You’re going to be a great father, you know that?”
“Husband too. And we should probably move up the wedding. Don’t you think?”
“How about October 31st? I can’t wait any longer.”
“My favorite month and a halloween wedding. I’m in.”
“I need to call Linda. We have a wedding to plan,” she said excitedly.
“I imagine shifters have sex all the time in different bodies. What happens if they get pregnant and shift?”
“The baby ceases to exist. And to answer your actual question. You would have never known, but I could not bear the thought of losing our little girl.”
“It’s a girl?”
She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Yes, It’s a girl.”
Cremation was the only choice for Kate as no trace of Carol’s doppelganger could be left behind. George Bradshaw, the local crematorium owner, made sure it was done discreetly.
Karen remained somber on the way home. Inside she sat beside the window, looking out across the fields. The final harvest would be in soon, adding to our stores, which will last for several years, according to Mr. Wilcox.
The whole farm was in a state of preparation. Last week, the Elysian Woman’s Club completed the baby’s room, and Karen painted, then repainted our bedroom until she finally found the right color. Her nesting urges were on full display, and for the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to live in a house full of love.`
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
Black umbrella’s opened as Karen made her closing remarks before an approaching storm. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, let us take heed lest we become lost ourselves. Do not let Kate Addison’s death be in vain.”
A flash of lightning and thunderclap concluded the service, causing all in attendance to scatter to their respective vehicles. Driving away, I saw Keith standing alone as rain washed his friend away.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
Over the next few weeks, we went back to that room, each day starting with hope and ending in failure.
“Carol, what if I told you the crazy woman’s eyes were Kates. A real person, that person being you. Your trapped Kate, your trapped in a body that looks like Carol, but its you, you’re a shapeshifter and you need to shift back.”
‘I’d say you’re as crazy as she is. Now unstrap me from this chair,” she replied solemnly.
“Look at me; you’re Kate, not Carol. You’re stuck in a body that looks like Carol, that’s all. You’re a shapeshifter, Kate. You’re trapped in a body that’s not yours, and you need to take control of it so you can shift back.”
“You’re bat shit crazy, you know that, Doc.”
“Am I,” he said, shifting into Kate’s body.
Jerking side to side, she screamed, “Let me go, you demon! Somebody help me get out of here!”
“Look in the mirror, your NOT Carol—Christian, hold her head so she can’t turn away.”
As tears streamed down her face, Keith shifted to his original. “You’ve seen me transition twice, Kate. You know it’s true. Please shift back!”
Her eyes switched back and forth as she railed violently in the chair. Then it stopped. “Keith, is that you?”
“It’s me, Kate. You got lost in Carol’s body. You need to take control right now and shift back.”
I’m trying, but it’s not working; please help me, Keith. I don’t know how.”
“Focus, Kate, It’s your mind, not hers.”
“I’m fading, Keith, please do something,” she said desperately.
“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, sobbing as their eyes locked. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“Yes, you do, Keith; please don’t let me down. I can’t live in this hell any longer. Please,” she said again as green eyes turned blue.
In despair, Keith slowly rose, dropping the needle to the floor. Saying nothing he left me in the room alone with Kate, a lost shifter’s body. And for a moment, I thought she might shift back, like werewolves do when they die.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
Keith was sitting on the front porch when we arrived with a scratch on his face.
“Looks like two of us need tending too,” said Mr. Wilcox as he slammed the truck door.
“Jeff, what the hell have you done to yourself this time.”
“A nail in the foot, Doc.”
“Alright, come on inside. I’ll have Nicky look at it while Christain and I take care of some business downstairs.”
“You want to borrow my old catchers mask.”
“Nicky, Jeff’s back.”
“Again, Mr. Wilcox, what am I going to do with you?” asked Nicky.
As I followed Keith downstairs, we stopped halfway as the whole staircase began a slow descent, two stories down to be exact. When it stopped, we made our way down a hallway to the last door on the right. “Kate, this is Dr. Decker; I’m going to come in and talk to you. You won’t be restrained unless you act out again.”
Spiting through the small opening, she yelled, “Go away, you fucking bastard! Why have you locked me in here, you’re not the police.”
“Your right; I’m not. I’m your friend. We’ve known each other for years. You have amnesia.”
“Fuck you! I don’t have amnesia. And my name is not Kate. It’s Carol Wiseman.”
“If that’s true, where were you born?”
“Cincinnati, Ohio, I still live there. My address is 2205 Baker Street.”
“But you’ve been living in a homeless camp for years. Why not go back home?”
“I tried, but my boyfriend said he would kill me if I left.”
“When did you meet him?”
“I don’t remember; Jake was just there one day. I had a bad trip, and he—.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have any heroin? I need some heroin! The voice is coming back.”
“You don’t need heroin. I can make the voice go away.”
She stepped back from the door, crying. “All I need is heroin.”
As we entered you could see mindless scratches along the wall made from a screw taken out of the bed frame. In the corner stood Kate. “Not him, you, by yourself.”
“He’s my assistant. I need him to take notes.”
“I’m not a lab rat.”
“No one said you were. And I promise to give you all the heroin you want if the voice doesn’t go away.”
While his promise may have comforting Kate, or Carol, or whoever she was. It did not comfort me; I knew what he meant.
“You Promise?”
“Yes, now lie down on the bed. I want to use a hypnotic technic I developed to help people who hear voices.”
“Other people hear voices?”
“Yes. And I want to know what yours is saying.”
“You don’t have to put me under for that. I’ll tell you what it says. It says, ‘I’m not me, look in the mirror I’m not me.'”
“And what do you see when you look in the mirror?”
“Me, you dumbass. What the fuck did you think I was going to see?”
“Christian, get the mirror out of my bag.”
“Kate, take this mirror and tell me what you see.”
Her eyes flashed. “A crazy woman, I see the crazy woman,” she yelled, hitting me in the head with the edge of the mirror, causing it to shatter, its pieces reflecting multiple faces.
Before I could look up, she fell to the floor shaking. “Get on top of her, Christian, and hold her down while I give her a shot.”
A few minutes later, we were standing outside again, looking through the small opening. A cut on my face and a new scratch on his. “Carol, look at me. What’s the crazy woman’s name?”
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
The directions she gave to Decker’s house followed a tractor path between fields of various crops. In one stood an abanded farmhouse where I saw Mr. Wilcox waving.
“Thought you were going to pass me by for a minute there. Can you give me a lift to Doc’s? I stepped on a nail.”
“Sure, hop in. What were you doing in there anyway? Looks like the place is about to fall down.”
“Looks are deceiving around here, friend. What you see and don’t see are equally important. And I reckon it’s okay for me to tell you about it, seeing as you’re one of us now.
“Underneath this land of ours is a labyrinth of hidden tunnels connecting rooms filled with supplies and weapons. And that old house is one of many secret entrances.; as time goes by, I’ll show you around the place. But right now, I have a foot that needs tending.”
“I’d appreciate it. Karen has set my training aside for the time being. So I’m feeling a little lost.”
“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Wilcox, and I will fill you in on everything you need to know.”
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift –Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
Timothy French 