James Grey and the Song of Fear

2

Looking back John could barely tattered gray robes of his attacker before it shattered the desk lamp plunging them into darkness.

"We have been looking for you for a long time," It said. Its voice growled in the dark.

"What are you?" John could taste the metallic flavor of blood filling his mouth, and he could feel the warm liquid soaking through the back of his shirt.

"You know what we are," It whispered.

As John's eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the creature staring down at him. "How?" he asked, wondering what could have led this creature to him.

It tilted its head back and sniffed the air deeply. It chuckled with delight and John swore he could see the rows of jagged teeth displayed on the creature's face as it leaned forward. "Don't you smell it? The hint of copper whispering in the air?"

John looked down at his foot in the darkness and clenched his jaw. "A wraith..." he whispered.

"Where are they?" it hissed.

"I don't kn..." Before John could finish his sentence, the wraith grabbed his foot and hurled him into the closest bookshelf, as if John were nothing but a toy. The heavy shelf didn't budge, a fact that John knew all too well.

"We will not ask again..." the wraith's said in its clotted voice.

"I don't know what you're looking for!" John shouted.

The wraith began mumbling to itself rhythmically and rocking back and forth in the shadows. John could barely make out its faint mumbles. "What are you saying?" He demanded. The black creature cocked its head and let out a sinister laugh and spoke the words in a low hiss. Words that sent chills down John's spine.

"A Song That Will Forever Play

Throughout the night and every day

A Song that drags you in its wake

Your Courage and Soul this Song will take

This Song of mine You'll Never Hear

Beware O Lord the Song of Fear,"

John knew the words to the story well, one of the many legends surrounding the Night Scrolls, the secret set of scrolls that he and Allison had found in the Tibetan mountains all those years ago. What they found weren't the secrets of the universe or ultimate knowledge, it was the story of a prison hidden behind an ancient language painted on even older parchment. The word overrated came to John's mind at the time, but now as he lay bleeding on the floor taking his last breaths he couldn't help but wonder was it really just a story?

"If you don't know where the scrolls are, then perhaps the little one will." Shadows began moving all around the darkened library and out of the corner of his eye, John saw hundreds of them moving through the dark.

John reached for his watch, the tool that he had used for the better part of a decade, knowing that all it would take was a quarter turn of the dial and he would make quick work of this murder of crows that circled him in the dark. But to his horror, his fingers rubbed against the bare skin of his wrist, and he realized his fate was sealed. John hung his head knowing that he would never leave the library that night but if he wanted to save his son from the same fate, he could not let them leave either. He mumbled something that couldn't be heard by even the closest wraith. "What was that?" the Wraith asked, canting his head to better hear the doomed human's words.

"You'll never touch my son." An emerald green light appeared from the depths of John's eyes, swirling and glowing from within. Slowly at first but with increasing speed, the dull green in John's eyes was replaced by a brilliant flame. The same light emanated from beneath him, suddenly engulfing John in emerald flames that ignited the books and shelves surrounding him. The wraiths recoiled from the intense heat and John could finally see them, holding up their claws to shield their black pearl eyes from his flames. John rose to his feet and the burning rags that were once his clothes fell to the floor as his skin began to melt away, painfully. He began to walk toward the sea of wraiths, which parted and hissed as his flaming green skeleton passed.

With each agonizing step, John's vision blurred until he could no longer see through the emerald flames, but he pressed forward relying solely on instinct— thousands of thoughts flashed through his brain. Allison's smile, the first time he laid eyes on James. Spectacular memories, all shielding his mind from his body's destruction. Reaching out with a bony hand, John grabbed the wraith, that had spoken to him, pulling him face to face. The cloth clutched in his fingers instantly caught flame, burning the creature alongside John, as the sea of wraiths searched frantically for a reprieve from the flaming green coffin, howling and hurling themselves at the locked doors and barred windows. Each of them refusing to accept their fiery fate but try as they might they, along with Mr. Grey, would never escape that night.