The Lock

            Chris Angle paced back and forth in front of John Banford. “I’m in trouble,” he mumbled, “big trouble.” Of this, Banford had little doubt. Just the fact that Angle was in his house was amazing enough as he had not seen the man in nearly ten years. Once they had been the closest of friends but, in their senior year at the university, they had had a violent argument and vowed to have nothing to do with each other ever again. And they hadn’t.

            For ten years, Banford had heard vague rumors about what Angle was up to. After the university, Angle supposedly had gone to Europe to further his study of Art and Medievel Manuscripts. But, after a time, Angle had dropped off everyone’s radar and no one in the alumni committee or anywhere else knew where the enigmatic scholar had gone. Until he had turned up on Banford’s doorstep that night, looking as if he was in fear of losing his life.

            Banford was shocked at the sight of Angle. The man had always been thin and quirky but this was far beyond that. He was pale, almost to the point of being chalk white, and nearly as thin as a war refugee. Angle’s hands were shaking and he kept glancing about nervously.

            “For God’s sake, Chris,” Banford said, “it can’t be that bad.”

            “You don’t know, John, you don’t know what I’ve done. I’ve done things, terrible things, unspeakable things. And I did them happily, willingly, all for a chance at my deepest wish.”

            “C’mon, Chris, what are we talking about here? Drugs? Gambling? What?”

            Angle laughed. “You are still such a limited thinker, John. You never thought much, did you? You never considered that there was anything beyond this reality? Or behind it? I did. I knew that there was something else out there so I went looking for it and I found it. It took a long time before I found the real truth and I had to go through a lot of fakes and frauds. But I found it deep in Europe, hidden away in a German forest. Here, this is what I’m talking about.”

            Angle handed Banford a piece of paper. There were only a few words on it in German with stylistic sigils around it. “Read it aloud, John,” Angle said. “You’ll feel the power then.”

            Banford read the words and instantly the air around him began to change. It was as if he was suddenly charged with electricity that was pouring from his eyes. He started to see things around him, moving through the air. They were strange, wonderful things that acted as if they were suddenly seeing him for the first time as well.

            “Do you see them, John? They’re there. They’re around us all the time. They’re always moving, always searching and always, always hungry. They’re a part of reality, the true reality that lies behind this cheap facade we live in. And they’re coming for you now.”

            “What are you talking about, Chris?”

            “You thought I’d forgotten? You thought I would ever forgive you for stealing her? She was mine, Banford, MINE! And you stole her away from me! The most beautiful creature in the world and you took Laura away.”

            “You’re kidding, right? You haven’t gotten over that yet? It’s been over ten years!”

            The creatures were getting closer when they stopped. They moved as if uncertain. Then they looked around and saw Angle. “What are you doing?” he asked.

            Banford smiled. “You’re not the only one who’s been studying. Really, Chris, minor soul-eaters? And this is what you spent so long studying. Pitiful.”

            With a shrug of hands, Banford sent the creatures away and they descended on Angle who screamed in agony as they tore through his flesh, their bites leaving flaming marks on his flesh. When Laura came home later from her expedition to the Forbidden Lands, she found her husband cleaning a dark spot on the rug. “What happened?” “Oh, nothing,” he replied, “an old friend stopped by for a bite.”