'Vision' by Noel Markham

Joseph felt a sudden shift in the temperature of the room.  The pleasant summer warmth was replaced with a deathly cold.  He moved his hands back above his head, and pulled himself to a sitting position with the metal framework of the bed.  He stopped and let the creaking echo around the large rectangular room, waiting to hear if any of the other boys were awakened by the chill.  No creak responded to his.  He was alone in the black. 

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t normally alone.  The other boys tended to stay away from Joseph, as did the nuns unless they were there to give out to him.  And the black never changed that much either.  Sometimes it was a lighter shade of black, even at times a solid red, but no features graced his vision.  His fingers taught him what he knew of the world, from the harsh cold solidity of metal in the winter to the soft, hairy fur of a dog.  They had taught him the difference between the tall unpainted brick walls of the boys’ dormitory and the smooth plastered walls of the head nun’s room.  Well, his fingers and the head nun had taught him.  You don’t make that mistake twice, not after being forced to spend the night outside.  Not after the cold batters you for ten hours, tirelessly reinforcing the lesson.

Joseph bathed in his memories for a moment, letting them take over his senses as he transported himself back to the scene.  He could feel the cold chill.  The metal framework behind his back turned into the brick wall he had leaned against for the night.  The hum and ticking of the hallway light was replaced with the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs and the night birds’ calls as they scoured the nearby woodland for their prey.  The smell of smoke and peat filled his nostrils in the stead of sweat and unwashed laundry.  The calm stillness of the night was replaced with the harsh, tense atmosphere and fear crawled into Joseph’s mind.  He felt the hairs on his forearms stand to attention the way they did when the pack of wild dogs passed by.  His heart began trying to escape, banging against its ribcage prison, and Joseph held his breath.  They must have passed by no more than five hundred metres away; never noticing the small orphan boy crouched by the coal bunker.

A noise tore Joseph back to reality.  A soft noise.  A pitter patter in the darkness, growing louder and louder from the direction of the door. The hairs on his arm remained stiffly where they had been in his memory.  His heart started to make another attempt at evading the situation, sending vibrations through Joseph’s chest.  It was as if it were competing with the noise to be the loudest thing in the room.  The two noises began to mix, gaining pace and overtaking Joseph’s every thought.  Pitter.  Thud.  Patter.  Thud.  The symphony of fear and anticipation continued for a moment before reaching its awesome climax.  As it did this a shape formed in Joseph’s eyes.  Blurry at first, but within moments the shape of a dog stood crisp and true in front of Joseph.

It stopped in front of Joseph, seemingly its own source of light in the black void.  Its fur was long and shaggy, white with spots of brown.  Its springer spaniel ears that had flopped up and down independent of the rest of its body, while it walked, now lay peacefully beside its face.  A tongue lolled out of its mouth and its eyes happily met Joseph’s. The dog’s tail began to waggle slightly as it turned to leave.  It looked back at Joseph as if to beckon him to follow then started disappearing back into the black. 

A sudden fear washed back over Joseph as he began losing the only thing he’d ever seen.  Quickly he threw the sheets off his bed and let the springs creak loudly as he lifted his weight off it.  In an old pair of underwear and a shirt five sizes too big for him, Joseph set off following the light of the dog. 

He followed it down the large rectangular room, round the corner, through the small passageway to the hall, past the head nun’s bedroom, to the world outside.  The summer warmth had returned as the dog led Joseph down toward the woodland.

As they neared the trees, another figure took shape in Joseph’s vision. It was a tall creature, towering above Joseph.  It stood on two legs with hooves in the place of feet.  Its fur covered legs gave way to an upper body with skin like bark.  Inside its mouth the teeth were sharp, yellow, and crooked.  Its piercing blue eyes seemed to watch two different things at the same time.  Its pointed ears twitched with every sound.  Its short, serpentine nose sniffed the air as it scratched one of the many twigs that protruded from the back of its head. 

Suddenly it seemed to notice Joseph.  It moved its head down to Joseph’s level and looked him directly in the eyes.  Joseph felt a fear like no other.  Unable to move a single muscle he stared back into the creature’s eyes.  It felt as if a foreign power was picking through Joseph’s brain; accessing thoughts, memories and emotions that had been locked away in a mental vault. 

As suddenly as he had dropped to Joseph’s level the creature rose up to full height.

            “Joseph Kellly”, it began in a booming voice. 

“I am the Faun, the keeper of these woods.  These woods are host to many creatures your world can not contain.  The only way in, is to correctly answer this riddle: I bite but have no teeth.  I never tire and never sleep.  I’ve killed men, strong and weak.  I will find you, yet never seek”.

Joseph felt suddenly very alone as the words of the riddle rang through his head.  The dog had disappeared back into the black.  The Faun had a crooked smile on his face as he looked at Joseph struggling with the riddle.  He began to circle Joseph.  Each step sending a thundering vibration through the ground.  Joseph could feel everything slip away.  He didn’t know where he was.  The dog was gone, and the Faun would surely send him out into the dark if he answered the riddle incorrectly.

Without warning, as if the author didn’t know how to resolve the situation, a barn owl swooped down, gouging at one of the Faun’s eyes.  Amidst the flurry and confusion Joseph spotted the dog standing behind the Faun.  Carefully he went over to it, and followed it deep into the woods; running from the Faun’s sight.  Inside the woodland was a wealth of sights and glowing creatures.

The he saw them.  Faces to put to the voices that had read his bedtime stories all those years ago. He walked over to them.  He felt a single warm tear roll down his cheek as they embraced.

Sister Hagerty pushed through the boys circled around the bed.  The Lord had taken another one.