till sundown. He should try to find a place to sleep for the night, somewhere other than the abandoned basement. At least find a place to escape from the increasing heat. He found the local library and trudged up the steps. His heels stuck to the pavement, and he glanced at his feet, astonished. The rubber on his soles was melting. All around him, the corpses were doing the same, bubbling and hissing as they turned into toxic stew.
The library door was locked, so Big R forced it open with his pry-bar. He had no idea where he’d found the weapon, only that he’d been clutching it upon waking up. The library’s interior smelled of dust and mildew. Thankfully, he smelled no rotting corpses. His nose welcomed the relief. He made his way to a little bulletin board, labeled, FACTS ABOUT OCONTO. The town, it seemed, was a Menominee Indian word for, “place of the pickerel.” So now he knew that. Meant absolutely shit to him, but at least he knew.
Big R felt like crying, but didn’t know why. That made him want to cry even more.
He turned back to the bookshelves and was surprised by how much light there was inside the building. The power was out, the electric lights didn’t work, and the sun was going down outside. Yet the library was brightly illuminated, with no shadows between the rows of shelves. As he watched, dazzling brilliance flooded through the windows, blinding him. Shielding his eyes, he turned away.
Big R smelled smoke.
“What now?”
He went to the door, intent on discovering the source of both the light and the smoke. The ornate wood felt warm beneath his palm, and Big R hesitated. Fire? Could there be a fire outside? But he’d just been out there two minutes ago.
Pulling his sleeve down over his hand, he pushed the door open and stepped outside—
—into Hell.
There were two suns in the sunset. One of them, a hazy, reddish-orange half disc, sat in the west, slowly sinking beneath the horizon. The other one, an intense, white-with-red-tinged ball of fire, hung high in the southern sky, growing bigger by the second. Big R stared at it, couldn’t help but stare at it, mesmerized by the sight. He wondered what it was. A nuclear explosion, perhaps? A comet?
The word Teraphim ran through his mind. He wondered what it meant and how he knew it. Then Oconto began to burn. The treetops burst into flames, followed by the church steeple, and then the buildings themselves.
The last thing Big R saw before he went blind were orange, smoke-like creatures, resembling wisps of flame. They emerged from the center of the second sun and swooped down upon the earth like the wind. There were millions of them, and everything they touched caught on fire. Their faces—their howling faces—looked almost human…eyes, noses and mouths of flame. Their laughter crackled along with the inferno.
Big R wondered what they were, and then, as his hair singed, decided he was grateful not to know.
OTHER WORLDS
THAN THESE
And then, the burning ember that was once Earth fizzled, as if snuffed out by solar winds…
THE END
Robert Lewis, Bob to his friends, and Cyber-Bob to his online buddies, opened his eyes, amazed that he could still see. Indeed, amazed he still
Bob looked around. He was in an empty room carved out of gray, stone blocks. A pale half-moon shining through the room’s lone window provided his only source of light. The air was damp and cold.
“This is Heaven?” His voice echoed off the walls. Bob considered himself a Christian—a Catholic. He was open-minded and respected other beliefs, as long as people did the same for him. He disagreed with some of the church’s dogma, but Bob knew his Bible, and he didn’t remember Heaven being described like this. His personal vision of the perfect afterlife had always involved a really big library with comfortable chairs and fireplaces and an endless supply of books, both for reading and writing (he enjoyed both).
He went to the window. A thick layer of gray clouds floated so far below that he almost mistook them for mountaintops. Bob glanced up at the moon, hanging alone in the darkness, with no stars to keep it company. Not even the flashing lights of a passing airplane.
Then the moon blinked.
Gasping, Bob leapt backward and collided with something else. Something in the room, that hadn’t been there before.
A…
It was shaped like a human. Tall. Bob couldn’t tell if it had legs, because it wore a long, flowing black shroud. Its face and hands were milk-white, and its eyes and mouth were black, empty holes.
“Robert Lewis of Earth, early Twenty-First Century?” Its voice was like an echo with no sound at first. The lips did not move.
Bob tried to speak, and found he couldn’t. All he managed was a strangled sigh.
“That is a yes?”
Bob nodded.
“And on your Earth, were the dead coming back to life, possessed by a race of beings known as the Siqqusim?”
“Um…” Bob shrugged.
The creature took a step backward, and though Bob heard its footsteps ring out on the stone floor, he realized that it was actually floating several inches above it.
He swallowed.
“Yes or no, Mr. Lewis?”
Bob nodded again.
“Does the term ‘Hamelin’s Revenge’ mean anything to you?”
Frowning, Bob shook his head. It didn’t ring any bells.
The thing smiled. “Good. Then I have obtained the right version of you. Welcome to the Labyrinth. You were expecting Heaven, and you may see it yet. But there is something you must do before you pass on. Follow me.”
The creature rotated in mid-air, floating towards the door.
Bob finally worked up enough saliva to shout,
“Hey!”
His companion turned. “Yes?”
“What is this? Who are you?”
“This is nowhere and everywhere. This is the inbetween—the black space amidst the stars, the backdoor of reality. As for me, do I not look familiar?”
Bob considered this. The being did look familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“I get the feeling I’ve met you before.”
“You have. All of you have. In your dreams.”
A sense of relief washed over Bob, and his posture slackened. “That’s it! I’m dreaming. I’m still back in Aurora, and the Earth didn’t burn up!”
The other floated out the doorway. “No, I’m afraid your Earth was incinerated, as were countless other Earths, by the Teraphim.”
