Fragments of the Unknown

The empathic load of Kundalini Yoga was often overwhelming, which was why I only committed to one session a week.

Mikayla’s outburst, rooted in such painful trauma, shook me more than I wanted to admit.

Tucking the last mat back into its cubby for the night, I clicked off the lights and breathed in the soothing, calm fragrance of sage, sandalwood, and sweat. I took my time crossing the now dark room, re-establishing my equilibrium through the peacefulness of the space.

Grabbing my keys and jacket from the closet by the front door, I set the alarm with a cheerful chirp. Hand on the doorknob, I paused. A shadow darker than the rest of the room caught my eye.

My heart skipped a single beat before thrumming faster than normal. The gloom spread up the wall, as if someone was walking across the room toward me. Not trusting my own eyes, hoping I was imagining things, I blinked hard.

The darkness was only a foot away now.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead as I glanced around the space, praying to find one of my students coming out of the backroom.

There was nothing. No one.

Except the shadow.

BEEP

The alarm reminded me 10 seconds had passed since I pressed SET. In another 50 seconds, it would activate, alerting the security company something was wrong.

The darkness engulfed me, rooting me in place. My stomach convulsed as I fell into the throes of a premonition.

My grandmother Nani’s white 1990 Volvo travelled toward Cathedral Grove.

I’d had this vision so many times it was like watching an overplayed commercial. One of ones that play over the holidays, tugging at your heartstrings. Instead of bringing sweet tears of hope for humanity, a sob escaped as I doubled over, hands holding my head, trying to protect myself from the scene playing out in my mind.

The bass-heavy beat of Gangsta’s Paradise filled the vehicle, glitching from the staticky radio. A single brown finger tapped the steering wheel in rhythm.

The haunting lyrics wormed into my subconscious, morphing shadows lined in chalk taking shape in my mental imagery.

BEEP

The delicate scent of a lifetime spent cooking curried dishes mingled with the sharp pine of air freshener, permeating my studio. The visceral reminder of Nani was so overwhelming it knocked the wind from my lungs. Gasping, I braced myself against the brick wall, the rough texture anchoring me to reality. The vision continued to assault me.

The rain dotting the windshield transformed from a steady drizzle to a deluge in the blink of an eye. The shick, shick, shicking of the wipers were no match for the downpour, fighting the relentless torrent dropping from hostile clouds.

BEEP

I only had 30 seconds left to vacate the building and lock the door.

A blinding flash of lightning lit the sky. A breath later, deafening thunder roared impossibly close. A resounding crack pierced the atmosphere as an ancient tree high on the mountain split in two.

Then came the rumbling, crashing chaos. The darkness.

As the landscape erupted in my mind’s eye, the madness of the vision mirrored the turmoil within my soul. My hammering heart beat a frantic morse code of fear and foreboding against my ribs.

The brick wall bit into my palm when I jolted, the echo of every rumble aching in the marrow of my bones. Panic clawed at my throat, and for a moment, the air thinned, as if the storm from 25 years ago had leached the oxygen from my studio.

BEEP

Darkness enveloped the car, the storm's fury smothering my sight. Above and all around, the mountain groaned. In a violent rush, the landslide descended, a torrent of mud and stone that obliterated everything in its path. The maelstrom crushed Nani's car in an instant.

Nothingness lingered, an oppressive void that swallowed the echoes of thunder and the fading memory of light.

Raking in a shaky breath, my fingers searched for grip in the wall, the cutting pain grounding me as I struggled to stay upright. Nani was dead; this truth, cold and unyielding, promised release from the vision.

BEEP

With only 10 seconds before the alarm would trigger, the premonition shifted.

A glow of light cut in from above.

I sobbed, an irrational surge of hope piercing my heart. The vision had always ended with the impenetrable darkness of death and grief and the most painful loss of my life.

BEEP

9 seconds.

Had Nani finally found peace? Was this a sign her spirit had become one with her God?

The dim glow became a streetlight, illuminating long shadows cloaking a narrow alley.

BEEP

A figure emerged, a silent silhouette, its edges blurred and shifting under the weak halo of light.

BEEP

The distant hum of city life set my teeth on edge, as viscerally irritating as nails scraping across a chalkboard.

The menacing presence fed off lingering emotions of fear, pain, and soul-deep trauma.

BEEP

The contours of the figure grew more defined—a tall, thin man, his features obscured by the darkness that clung to him like a second skin.

Crushing my eyes closed, I willed my vision closer, desperate to capture some defining characteristic that would tell me what this new ending meant.

BEEP

5 seconds.

His palpable darkness sucked the light out of the surrounding air, deepening the shadows hiding his face.

BEEP

Shifting, the faint glimmer of the streetlight caught his elongated, sharp features. Predator!

My mind screamed at me, the hatred and danger radiating from the vision impossible to ignore.

BEEP

I forced my line of sight away from the Shadowman, searching for a clue.

Dark stains on the ground wavered, expanded, and pooled into a disturbingly familiar shape.

BEEP

He moved, a fluid, haunting motion, taking him deeper into the alley, away from the still form on the ground.

A drop of ice tingled down my spine, the cold alley air chilling me to the bone. A deep sense of dread weighed heavy in my chest.

BEEP

Times up.

The streetlight flickered once more, highlighting the unmistakable shape of a body crumpled in the shadows, lifeless and abandoned.

BEEP BEEP BEEP…

Alarm blaring, the vision ended, leaving me nauseous and retching, the dark outline seared into my consciousness. Gasping, I fumbled at the panel, trying to quiet the angry screaming. I couldn’t make out the numbers on the keypad through my tear-blurred vision, and every incorrect attempt seemed to increase the shrill soprano cry.

Pounding my fist against the wall in frustration, I let a ragged screech of my own join the stressful shrieking.

The phone rang.

Relief propelled me across the room. “Hello?”

“Good evening, this is Jennifer from Paladin Security. We've received an alarm signal from your location. Do you need emergency assistance?

“Yes, thank-you. I—I mean no. Everything's ok. I forgot something in my back room and didn’t make it out in time after setting the alarm.” A tiny, tiny lie, just like a pinch of salt in dal. The vision had triggered my grandmother’s voice.

“For your security, can you please provide your verbal password?”

“Yes, of course. Kirpa. K-I-R-P-A.” Blessing. I always imagined Nani would like that.

“Thank you.” The security officer’s response was loud as it coincided with abrupt and welcome silencing of the alarm.

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Are you sure everything is fine? Do you need any assistance?”

“No, no assistance needed, thanks so much. It was just a mistake. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.

The alleyway full of shadows and dead bodies flashed through my mind. What could I say? ‘Actually yes, could you send the police? I’m afraid my imagination might have conjured up a murder…”

“Okay. I’ll note this as a false alarm. If anything changes, don't hesitate to call us back or trigger your alarm again.”

Hanging up the phone reignited the anxiety burning in my chest. Swallowing, I tasted bile.

In desperate need of a hot shower, I crossed the room with a sense of déjà vu. Avoiding eye contact with any shadows, I reset the alarm.

Wrenching the door open, I took a deep, cleansing breath of cool night air. As I stepped out into the darkening night, the streetlamp at the corner of my building turned on, casting a halo effect onto the steep walls of the alley next to my studio.