Fractured Soul

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A little boy cried out once again and then there was silence. Utter silence.

The Eshay’s mullet was always on point. The cigarette behind his ear and his everlast trackies shouted to the world, this was a man with a concession card for the bus. All that angst from a lousy childhood had kept him from seeing an upside to life, until that day.

He boarded his usual bus to take him home from his Centrelink appointment. He’d never have guessed that was the day he would make his first real friend. Someone who would care enough to help a lad. Everyone averted their gaze as The Eshay made his way to the seat at the back, save one. The Eshay glared at the reasonably well-dressed young man.

“What? You wanna go?” The Eshay exclaimed.

“I was wondering if I could trouble you for a smoke?” The Young Man said with a smile.

“Fuck you. Get your own,” The Eshay replied.

“Aww, come on, please! I’m trying to quit. I’ll give you ten bucks,” The Young Man pleaded.

The Eshay was taken aback, stunned even.

“You’ll give me ten bucks for one ciggy?” The Eshay enquired.

“Absolutely! I’m hanging for a smoke and don’t want to buy a pack,” The Young Man replied.

The Young Man pulled out a ten-dollar note that The Eshay snatched up. The Eshay grinned, pulled out his packet and opened it toward The Young Man. There was about half a pack left as The Young Man took one and placed it behind his ear. Pleased, The Eshay took a seat behind The Young Man who turned to talk to his saviour.

“Thanks, mate,” said The Young Man happily. “Tell you what, how about I help you out in return?”

“What do you mean? You’re not into some weird shit are you?” The Eshay asked.

“Nah, nothing like that,” The Young Man began. “I might have a job for you.”

The Eshay scratched his head.

“Mate, I don’t sell,” The Eshay replied.

The Young Man laughed and replied, “That’s not what I was suggesting.”

“Then what? You don’t know me, so how could you have a job for me?” The Eshay enquired.

“Wanna see?” The Young Man replied.

Curious The Eshay shrugged. The Young Man held up his hand and clicked his fingers. The Eshay looked around as he found himself, behind a barrier, in a loft that had brilliant artwork scattered around the place.

“Where are we?” The Eshay asked.

“You know where.” The Young Man replied.

“You mean,” The Eshay began.

“You’re home.” The Young Man cut in.

The Eshay stepped through the barrier, causing it to shatter. Suddenly everything in his life became bright and vibrant. Tears welled up in his eyes as he smiled earnestly for the first time since he was a child.

“In this world, you were caught graffitiing a wealthy businessman’s office” The Young Man began.

“-But instead of calling the cops, he put me through art school.” The Eshay interjected. “How do I know this?”

“Because this is your life now, if you choose it, of course you’d remember.” The young man replied. “And now, these are the pieces you’re going to put on show next week. All that angst channelled into something wonderful” The young man continued.

“How did you do it?” The Eshay asked.

“The essence of a fractured soul.” The Young Man replied as he sparked up the cigarette.

“What fractured it?” The Eshay inquired.

“Trauma, that’s about all I can say,” The Young Man replied.

“Trauma? That’s all your going to say?” prodded The Eshay.

“All I can say,” The Young Man repeated.

“Right,” The Eshay remarked as he examined one of his pieces. “So what’s the catch?”

“Nothing much, I’ll check in on you in about a year and discuss your options.” The Young Man Replied. “Until then have fun.”

“Wait, so what’s your name?” The Eshay asked.

“Chris,” he replied.

“Thanks Chris, I’m Robbo,” replied Eshay Robbo.

Chris clicked his fingers again and disappeared. Robbo looked around his new dwelling before noticing a blank canvas in the corner. He walked up to it, picked up his pallet and started painting.

A year passed. The anniversary of the day his life began found Robbo studying his first real painting, an abstract entitled The Lonely God. It was the feature piece of his loft and his favourite. To Robbo’s surprise, the day came and went uneventfully. The next day, however, at the party celebrating his latest exhibition, Robbo got his visit.

A changed man, deep in thought, Robbo was out on the balcony about to smoke a cigarette as his friends partied inside. A shadow passed over him. There was the smell of Benson and Hedges and Robbo sighed.

“I’ll be back in in a minute. But thanks for smoking outside,” Robbo said.

“Sorry, I’d have done it outside last time had I known,” murmured a familiar voice.

Robbo’s eye’s widened and he spun around and was greeted by the sight of the young man who changed his life.

“Chris! I was beginning to think I’d never see you again my friend,” Robbo exclaimed as he stepped in to hug his saviour.

Chris hugged Robbo and smiled. “You look well. I’m glad to see you chose to get rid of the mullet.”

“Really? That’s the first thing you notice?” Robbo laughed. “What about the threads?”

Chris glanced at Robbo’s designer clothes and shrugged.

“Never been a Gucci man myself but I’m probably the only one who knows how bad your fashion sense used to be,” Chris said in jest. “But enough about that, what’s with the painting?”

Robbo laughs as Chris points through the doorway to the painting of himself.

“It was the first thing I painted after arriving here, I just can’t bring myself to part with it. Regardless of how much people keep offering,” Robbo replied.

“Yeah but The Lonely God?” Chris prompted.

Robbo shrugged as he spoke, “What can I say? I saw loneliness as well as kindness in your eyes.”

Chris stared at the painting then his eyes briefly fell to the nearby painting of the cabin with the candle. An ominous sign he was all too familiar with. He looked back to the painting of himself.

He paused a moment before speaking. “I suppose I can see it.”

“It’s yours if you want it,” stated Robbo.

“A painting of myself? I think I’ll pass,” Chris said jokingly.

“Well pick whatever you want and it’s yours.” Robbo insisted.

“Maybe later,” Chris began. “For now let’s discuss your options.”

“Ah, yes, you did say something cryptic about my having options,” Robbo replied as the two sat down.

“Okay so. You have two options, keep living as you are or ascension,” Chris stated.

Robbo looked surprised.

“Ascension? What become like you?” Robbo asked.

“Precisely! There are only two rules. One you must improve people's lives not hurt them.” Chris began.

“And the second?” Robbo asked.

Chris pulled out a picture of the cabin in the woods, a candle burning in its window.

“No matter what, never enter this cabin!” Chris exclaimed.

“It looks just like,” Robbo began.

“I noticed,” stated Chris.

“What’s in there?” Robbo asked intrigued

“Nothing good, and I mean it. No matter how agonising the desire to go there becomes you can never enter it!” Chris said sternly.

Robbo looks warily at Chris. After a few moments of thought Robbo repeats his question.

“Seriously. What’s in there?” Robbo prodded.

“It is the source of my power. Sharing it with you, well, you’ll feel the pull just as I do.” Chris said ominously.

“But if I do this I can help people just like you helped me. Right?” Robbo asked.

“Yes,” Chris conceded.

“Then I’ll do it.” Robbo blurted.

Surprised Chris leaned forward and spoke, “You’re sure? Once you have the power you can’t go back”

“Yeah, this last year I’ve done charity auctions to try to give back, but this. Well, it’s a chance to make real change.” Robbo replied.

“Very well. I had a feeling that would be your choice,” Chris said.

“What made you think that?” Robbo asked.

“Behind the pain, I saw strength and kindness to boot,” Chris replied with a smile.

“Thanks, that really proves you were the first person to believe in me,” Robbo said.

“You believed in yourself long before I did,” Chris said.

“Maybe but that was different,” Robbo said with a pause. “So how do we do this?”

Chris stubbed out his cigarette and Robbo followed suit. He placed a hand on either side of Robbo’s head.

“Last chance,” Chris said gravely.

“Will it help you?” asked Robbo.

“Yes,” replied Chris.

“Then do it,” said Robbo confidently.

As Robbo was touched by the very essence of Chris’ soul he saw the vast and yet infinitesimal nature of everything. For a moment he even understood the core of what it meant to be alive. Then he saw the cabin. That terrible, ancient place surrounded by withered forest that no one dared to enter. He cried out as his mind returned to his body.

“What the hell is in there?” Robbo exclaimed as everyone looked out at the two.

“Shh. We can’t talk about it!” Chris exclaimed.

“Right! Oh shit, okay,” Robbo panted as he collected himself.

One of the guests, Adel, poked her head out the door wearing a worried look.

“Everything okay out here?” Adel asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Thanks Adel. We’ll be in in a minute,” responded Robbo calmly as he shook off the horror of what he’d just experienced.

“Okay, well I’ll be just inside,” Adel said.

“I won’t be long,” Robbo reassured Adel as she closed the door behind her.

Robbo looked seriously at Chris.

“Just how old are you?” Asked Robbo.

“Ah, you noticed that did you?” Chris joked. “I’m about five hundred years old give or take a decade or two.”

“Some day we’ll have to talk about that,” Robbo replied as he walked toward the door.

He was about to open it when he paused and smacked his head.

“I know you won’t stay long but is there a painting you like,” Robbo said before breaking out a sarcastic smile. “You know before I rue the day I met you.”

Chris looked around and pointed to a picture of a blue floral teapot hanging in the corner of the loft.

“How about that one?” Asked Chris.

Really? It’s just something I made while messing around with a new technique,” replied Robbo.

“It’s rough and unpolished like you were when I met you,” Chris stated. “Yet, it has substance.”

Robbo laughs as he opens the door and steps through.

“It’s yours,” said Robbo as he returned to the party.

Three years passed and Robbo helped many people, most of whom became good friends but he didn’t pass on the power to any of them. Then, while Robbo was working on his latest painting there was a knock at the door.

“Just a minute,” Robbo called out.

Robbo put down his brush and palette. When he opened the door Chris was standing there. Momentarily surprised, Robbo hugged his old friend.

“Rob, who is it?” a female voice called out.

“It’s Chris,” he replied as he stepped back.

“You’re kidding,’ The voice exclaimed.

A moment later an exquisite young woman drifted into view.

“So you’re Chris! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Rachel,” she said. “Please come in.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rachel. I’m glad to see you’re both doing well,” Chris said.

“The pleasure’s mine. After all, if you hadn’t helped Rob I wouldn’t be here now,” She said. She said warmly.

“Ah, so you know?” Chris enquired shooting Robbo a curious look.

“Yes, I was one of the first people Rob helped,” Rachel explained.

“I see,” Chris responded then turned to Robbo. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Robbo replied.

The two walked out onto the balcony and sat down.

“It’s great to see you again but I get the feeling that you’re here for a reason. So what up?” Robbo probed.

“You’ve been using your power too much,” Chris said seriously.

“I know,” Robbo said dismissively.

“At this rate, you won’t be able to stay away much longer,” Chris warned.

“Yeah, but whatever happens it will have been worth it,” Robbo replied.

“Think! By now you should know nothing good will come of it if you go there,” Chris said sternly. “How do you think Rachel will feel if you do?”

“She’d be upset but if it means saving even one more person it’ll be worth it,” Robbo replied.

“That attitude will be your undoing. You know that, right?” Chris asked hoping to sway Robbo.

“How do you do it?” Robbo asked.

“I’ve had five hundred years of practice,” replied Chris.

“Must be lonely, knowing you can’t revisit someone who has gone there,” stated Robbo.

“You were one of the first to notice that in my eyes. So please stop helping people, for my sake and your own,” Chris pleaded.

“I won’t make any promises but I’ll try,” Robbo responded.

“Try, really hard!” Chris pleaded.

“Alright, but enough of that. What have you been up to?” Robbo deflected.

So Robbo and Chris talked well into the night. A week later, walking home from the corner store, Robbo saw a boy chase a ball into the street. A truck hurtled towards the boy. His mother screamed. Without thinking, Robbo clicked his fingers and the child reappeared on the sidewalk, ball in hand. Everyone was astounded, except Robbo. Robbo’s eyes glazed over as he warped away.

Robbo appeared before the cabin, a knife in hand. He looked at the candle in the window and took a deep breath. He thought to himself as he approached the door.

“I should run. Run far away! But I’m here now. This ends tonight,” he muttered.

He turned the knob and entered the cabin. Deep in the forest, Robbo’s screams could be heard, the little boy cried out once again and then there was silence. Utter silence.

***

Thank you for reading a ThisIsOmniWar.com story