The Brink of Eternity

THE BRINK OF ETERNITY

The girl let the phone drop on the table and kept staring at it until the screen went out. It was the fourth time in the past few weeks that she saw her plans overturned because of Damian, who had to cover for a co-worker. What bothered her most, however, was the fact that he could not, or rather did not want to say “no”. Once, when she upbraided him that the job was the main thing in his life, Damian smiled at her and replied, “It's true that I always have my work in mind, but it's just as true that I always have you in my heart!” But today this thing was going south really fast. Dana, her colleague, was given two invitations for a concert at a night club for which she had designed the marketing flyers. She could not go because she was going out of town that weekend to attend a cousin's wedding and she gave the invitations to her. Neither she nor Damian were big fans of alternative rock, but she hadn't been to a concert in a long time, and she wanted to change the atmosphere anyway. Anyways, she did not want to go it alone, and her options to find a companion in the next two hours were extremely limited.

“Are you coming to dinner?” her mother shouted. Although she was not hungry, she had nothing better to do. She walked slowly into the kitchen.

“What time do you leave? Grab a jacket or something, because it can get cold when the concert will be over. It's already the end of October.”

“I don't know if I'll go. Damian has to work, and I haven't found anyone to join me.”

“Go anyways, get out of the house. You're young, you should have fun. It’s like tomorrow when you’ll get married, have two children and suddenly you’ll be forty years old.” They both laughed heartily. Her mother had just turned forty just a few weeks earlier.

“What's this laughter? Tell me so I can laugh too!” It was the father who had just entered the door.

“Look, take your father with you.”

“Take me where?” the man asked as he hung his coat.

“Sure, daddy... What should he do at a concert? I'm waiting to see if any of the girls confirms, and if not, I'll just stay home. It's not a tragedy.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What concert?”

“It's an alternative rock band that has won some awards a few years back, and now they're releasing a new album.”

“Well, you should definitely not go alone. Why don't you go with Damian?”

The girl did not answer immediately, but rolled her eyes glancing to the ceiling, while her mother carefully set the bowl with soup on the table.

“He has to work; a colleague pretended to be sick, and Damian answered Aye, aye, sir!” when his boss called him.

“And you didn't find anyone else?”

“Nope. The time was too short.”

“I'll go, then. Last time I went to a rock concert was in the past century.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Only if you change your clothes; I won't take you with me dressed like that, like you're going to sell life insurance” she said with a very serious tone. “Put on those new jeans. And if you can find that old leather jacket, it would be awesome”.

“My dear, when I was going to concerts with Metallica or Iron Maiden, your mother was still in the elementary school.” He went into the bathroom and the two women could hear him humming “Never care for what they do... Never care for what they know...And nothing else matters...”

***

The parking lot was almost full when the two arrived at the concert. The building that housed the club “Styx”, a former warehouse of a communist-era factory, was not very tall, but its massive appearance, the gray concrete from which it was built, and the lack of windows made it look like a bunker. After all, for the concert of a metalcore band, such a location was actually suitable. They entered through the extremely narrow door into a long antechamber, barely lit by a few light bulbs. Framed pictures with some famous heavy-metal bands were hanging on the walls. To the other end, an opening no wider than an ordinary door made the passage to the main hall. The area for the public was designed for a much smaller audience, and the spectators were already quite crowded. They took a few steps toward a slightly emptier area on the right side. From there they could rather guess than actually see the scene, which resembled more with a makeshift podium two feet above the floor. The concrete of the walls was hidden under a sound-proofing sponge lining on which were displayed several large posters of modern art. The scaffolding supporting the lighting and sound system and the ceiling made of wooden pallets, gave the club a strong industrial look.

He threw a quick look on the flyer printed on red paper he was given, to find out that the band “Hello to Quantum” was releasing their second album, “Runes of War”. He did not recognize anyone among the nearly four hundred spectators, but this did not surprise him. He analyzed them with a distant eye, like a teacher evaluating his class on the first day of school.

A loud whistling sound silenced the crowd. One of the band members had taken the stage and connected his guitar to the synthesizer. The concert itself started ten minutes after the top of the hour, with one of the band's pièces de résistence. They didn't sing too bad, but the melodies were very similar to each other, and the vocalist seemed to give his last breath with each word.

“Thank you for having us tonight! And now, for the first time in public, the song Unfair Fight, the opening track of the album we release today.” The audience applauded enthusiastically the band leader's words. The light in the room dimmed almost completely, with only one spotlight casting an anemic beam in the center of the stage. It was the bass guitar that tuned the first notes, followed by the jerky rhythm of the drums. The electric piano entered shortly after, blending smoothly with the other instruments. The spotlights lit up one by one, highlighting the artists as they began to play. The vocalist waved his hips in a lascivious motion, mimicking a hug and started singing.

“I will go to war tomorrow at dawn

It will be a day when blood will be shed,

It will be the day when I might die

Without you by my side

Or maybe it will be the day might live

And come back into your loving arms ...”

The solo guitar released a long riff, the drums suddenly changed rhythm, and the vocalist resumed the song with more vigor.

“It's a war with no prisoners

It's an unfair fight,

You have no chance against the hungry Grim Reaper

Standing there dressed in a white gown!”

The audience erupted, anticipating the resumption of the chorus. It was just the organizers had prepared a surprise, and upon the leader’s sign, two fireworks lit up on both sides of the stage. A long “Wow!” came from the public as the vocalist was shaking his head to follow the beat of the bass guitar.

A spark jumped a little farther, reaching for the sponge that covered one of the support beams in the middle of the crowd. Moments later, the timid rumble gained courage, and the sponge was engulfed in flames in an instant, which drew the attention of those on stage. Although in the middle of the show, the singer stopped, and using the most normal voice possible asked someone to come with a fire extinguisher, before resuming the performance.

The girl's father looked up at the ceiling and only then he noticed that behind the pieces of wood covering it, there was a layer of soundproofing foam, just like the one that was burning now. He immediately realized the present danger. The fact that they were quite far from the only exit door magnified his feeling of insecurity. He grabbed the girl by the elbow and jerked her to follow him. Resisting a little as she was not understanding at first what was happening, the girl followed him still. The flames rose quickly, and the crowd panicked. Horrified screams were coming from the rows near the stage. They had ten, maybe fifteen feet to reach the exit. The father made a shield with his body, like a basketball player protecting a teammate while throwing the ball, and the girl stepped forward. Only six feet now. A sinister scream of pain gave her goose bumps, and with an ultimate effort she pushed the woman standing in her way, managing to get out both of them.

“Father! Dad, where are you? Father!”

“I'm here, here! Right behind you.”

The man was in the doorway, staring blankly at the raging fire, devouring the lacquered woodwork and spreading across the ceiling, menacing like a wild beast. The stream of fresh air given by the opening of the door brought oxygen which suddenly intensified the flames. Drops of fire started to fall from the ceiling; the soundproofing sponge was melting and burning at the same time. A woman caught fire, her nylon clothing burning like a torch. Another woman screamed hysterically as her long hair lit up, to her demise. Death had not come with a simple scythe, but with a combine to reap lives.

The screams had reached their climax. The screams of the burned ones mingled with those of the spectators trampled by the stampeding crowd. The thin layer of human reasoning was gone, giving way to pure animal instincts of panic. Some of the lucky few who managed to get out stood in front of the door, pulling out those in the doorway, helping them clear the way faster for those behind them. A girl came out covered all over her body with a sticky soot. On her face and forehead one could suspect a really bad burn, but she was probably unaware of it. “My sister, my little sister is still inside ... someone help her, please ...” she said before collapsing on the pavement.

The number of those coming out of hell eventually dwindled, and the girl's father lifted the edge of his T-shirt over his nose and rushed inside. For a moment he could see nothing because of the stifling smoke. He hit a fallen body on the floor. He leaned over, grabbed him the best he could, and pulled him out. He was a twenty-something-year-old boy, with burns on the chest and hands, but still breathing.

A police car had already arrived, but the man figured out that until the firefighters or ambulances would arrive, those still inside were going to die burned alive. Solidarity beats instinct in situations of calamity, but only for very few people. He was one of them. He returned inside the club and grabbed another body fallen on the floor. She was a girl, shorter and lighter than his daughter, who was coughing convulsively and could not stand on her own. He lifted her straight into his arms. The hot smoke made him cough, too, but that didn't matter anymore. He went out again, placed the victim on the pavement, and went into hell for the third time. He fumbled in the dark for another survivor, and eventually found one. He let go of the T-shirt he used to cover his nose and mouth, releasing his hands in order to grab the young man. Suddenly, a massive piece of burning wood collapsed from the ceiling, exploding in a burst of sparks and a thick cloud of toxic smoke. The vinyl-based sound-absorbing sponge was burning, releasing a sticky, hot soot that stuck to his nostrils, mouth, trachea, and went deep into his lungs. Without oxygen, the man lost consciousness, collapsing next to the one whose life he wanted to save.

Outside, his daughter was crying desperately, running aimlessly through the dozens of bodies lying on the asphalt. Two fire engines entered the club's parking lot. The distant sirens of the approaching ambulances moaned like mourners.

***

He was floating in the void like a weightless astronaut. Or maybe like a scuba diver? His body was effusing a very pale, purple hue that only allowed him to perceive a thick fog surrounding him, beyond which he could only guess a deep dark. He looked at his hands and felt their presence rather than actually seeing them. They looked like two translucent shadows. He moved his fingers and then made a fist with the right hand. He then brought his hands together, intertwining his fingers. Instead of the tactile sensation of skin contact he expected, he had another, indefinable sensation, something he had never encountered before, like touching an electrically charged cold slime. He could see his knuckles responding to commands, but he had no kinesthetic sensation of muscle contraction at all. A self-aware avatar in a computer game must feel the same.

He was in motion, but it was impossible to tell whereto or what made him feel that. He stretched out his left hand completely with the fingers making a scoop and saw the hand rising slightly, as if a current of air was pushing it upwards, like the wing of an airplane. Somewhere in the distance, a red flashing caught his eye. Although he wasn’t heading directly towards it, he estimated that at some point he will get very close to that light. Then he noticed another blue glimmer just below him. And another one, with a greenish tint, on the right. He looked around, up and down, and noticed a few more flashes in all shades of the rainbow, all heading toward the same point of convergence.

He tried his best to understand where he was and what was happening to him. He sighed and realized that he was not actually breathing, and what he thought it was a sigh was actually just the intention to take a deep breath, which did not materialize. He extended his chest to the maximum, waiting to feel the air running through his nostrils, but nothing happened. He wrapped his face around his hands and had that gelatinous sensation again. Then the penny dropped, or so he thought. It was just a dream, albeit a very strange one.

It's not a dream ... it's not a dream ... it's not a dream ... he could hear echoing a whispering thought.

A globe of white light, much larger than the others, was coming straight at him. He wanted to get around it somehow, but he couldn't control the direction he was going. The light blinded him, covering him like a mantle woven with rays. He could feel moving faster and faster, like in a roller coaster. He now was climbing, or at least he thought so. He was getting used to the light around him, and he could see beyond it how the darkness was slowly dissipating. The surrounding space took on a milky texture with a pearly tint. How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? No one could know. He felt neither warmth nor cold. In fact, he felt nothing, just a continuous movement, like falling into an endless void.

“You shouldn't be here now.” It was not a voice that said that, but someone else's thought of that he was aware somehow. The movement finally slowed and he was now floating adrift. The light around him coagulated into an egg shape and remained beside him, pulsing lightly. He extended a hand, trying to grab it. He felt like he was touching an electrified gelatin. Another ball of light was coming towards him. Then a third, and a fourth one. They settled around him in a tetrahedral shape and began to spin faster and faster. After a while, the pulsations of the four spheres synchronized, continuing their dizzying dance.

He felt a force inside him that he had never encountered before. He was pulsing too, but much slower and barely noticeable. First he synchronized with the frequency of the other spheres, then the light around him turned pure white, losing its purple hue. His own pulsations became more and more ample, until he touched all four spheres at once. Then the spheres of light stopped spinning, continuing to pulsate.

It's a dream, a very strange dream ... he thought. “It's not a dream ... it's not a dream ... it's not a dream ... You shouldn't be here.” His mind was suddenly flooded with voices speaking all at once; at first he couldn't understand anything they said, but he eventually managed to isolate the voices one by one.

“What do we do with him?” “He’s valuable, we shouldn't lose him.” “He can't be sent back; his physical body is too damaged.” “He can't stay here.” “But he shouldn’t go beyond.” “Why can't he stay with us?” “His energy would dissipate immediately.” “I think we can try to keep him here.” He wanted to say something too, but nothing came out, just an awkward sensation trying to articulate the words. “Hey you! Just think what you mean, we understand you.“

“Just thinking about it?”

“Yes. We know you don't understand what's happening to you. You have freed yourself from the body.”

“Did I ... die? Am I dead?”

“Your body can't function anymore, it's true. But you're not dead, now you're pure energy.”

He couldn't remember anything. Neither who he was, nor where he came from, nor what had happened.

“Who am I?”

There was no answer. The deep silence surrounding him was disturbing. All the chatter was gone completely.

“If he doesn't know who he is, we can train him as a Guardian,” someone said. “Come over.”

The four spheres of light had broken the tetrahedron formation, placing themselves on either side, like an escort. They set in motion, gradually gaining more speed. At some point he felt the friction with the air and had a feeling of cold. The mist around him suddenly vanished, and he could see trees and hear the rustling of their leaves. He was flying, and with him there were four birds, two on each side — a falcon and a stork on the right, a dove, and a pelican on the left.

“Where are we, actually?” he asked, without addressing in particular to any of his new companions.

“On the brink of eternity,” replied the falcon. “Look there. Pay close attention to everything that happens.”

They headed for a road that ran along a river. A boy, no more than ten-year-old, was pedaling slowly on a bicycle towards the village in the valley. A car was coming from the village. Although far away, he could clearly see a woman behind the wheel talking on the phone. The stork broke away from the group, heading straight for the child on the bike. She spread her wings wide, and soared for a few seconds, then descended slowly, almost touching the boy. He slowed to finally come to a stop, staring fascinated at the bird. The car approached quickly, turning slightly to the axis of the road, then entering the opposite lane. The driver was not paying attention on the road, eyes on the phone. The stork flew towards the car, and the woman, noticing her shadow, looked up and thus saw the child. She turned the steering wheel abruptly to the right, re-entering on the right lane, and the boy jumped to the side of the road, avoiding the car.

“Wow! The stork prevented the accident! The child could have died!”

“Yes. That's what the guardians do. People call us guardian angels”, the falcon said.

The stork returned with the group, and they all headed for the river. They flew quietly for a while, bypassing the village, until they reached the top of a lake. They sat on the side of a fishing boat tied to a pontoon.

“And you can be a guardian, if you want,” he heard the pelican’s thought.

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“Very few are chosen to be guardians, and to be honest, I've never met anyone who would prefer go beyond, in the realm of the forgotten shadows,” said the pelican.

“And why can't I remember anything? Neither who I am nor how I died, nothing.”

“Guardians are beings made of pure energy. We simply exist. If you remembered who you were, the imprint of your identity would corrupt the energy matrix and you would completely dissipate. You would definitely cross beyond.

“But how did we materialize in these birds?”

“The birds are actually real. We just ... borrowed them, to fulfill our mission.”

“It will take some time until you’ll actually save someone. There is a lot for you to learn, but you have a deep desire to help others, and that's the most important thing” added the falcon.

“For example, you could start by saving that fish that has no chance against the hungry stork...” the pigeon made a joke.

“It's an uneven fight, with no chance against the hungry Grim Reaper,” the lyrics of a heavy-metal song suddenly came to his mind, followed immediately by the vision of wild flames, smoke, and screams of the victims. He tried to remember what had happened, but to no avail. He gripped the edge of the boat tightly in his claws and looked out into the water of the lake, where he saw the white heart-shaped face of a barn owl.

“If you don't like it, you can change your owl look to something else. But it must be a night bird,” said the pigeon. The others laughed, or at least it seemed so.

Author’s note:

On January 28th, 2013 in Santa Maria, Brazil, a fire in a nightclub kills 242 people. On October 30th, 2015 in Bucharest, Romania, a fire in a nightclub kills 64 people. Both tragedies have similar circumstances – during a rock concert, a deadly fire started because a spark from the fireworks ignited the soundproofing sponge. May their young souls rest in peace.