*WARNING, THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE THEMES*
*IF YOU HAVE NOT READ BETWEEN FOOTSTEPS, DO NOT READ THIS*
Or do, I suppose there's only so much one can control and be above.
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I'll be a god someday. I will. I'll control them all like they feel they can control me, because this world is only one built on rank. And because it is, all I have to do is climb it. Once I'm the one at the top, I'll be the one looking down on them.
"Henry."
I awoke to the sound of my mother's voice. Like usual, the only thing that met me was the smoky haze of the air and the feeling of suffocation tainting my lungs. My mother wasn't there. She hadn't been for a long while.
And yet it was like she was watching me, and at times I can almost feel her nonexistent eyes and the whispers she utters against the back of my neck. I heard knocks in the alleys that I tried to ignore, and the flashes of shadows just out of my vision that caused my mind to doubt.
The worst is her footsteps. I hear them the loudest, and it sounds like broken heels on the stone cobble I lay on. Why is she walking still?
Why could I hear her steps?
And what was between them? What is the reason for them? Why wouldn't they stop?
"What a pesky woman," I would say to myself, clenching my teeth in irritation. She was dead, so why wouldn't she just move on? She left me in my suffering, so it was only fair for her to stay gone.
The me I was at 13 was a despicable lowly young man that was truly at the very bottom of society. With no where to go, I took refuge in the shadows and never once touched the light. Back then, it was better that way. The dirty pathetic hands of my youth should never touch the light, and they never did.
But the shadows were consuming, and I felt my own weakness with every passing moment. I had to bow to the things I needed, and force down what I wanted.
Even though I stayed where I belonged, I certainly didn't hold back in looking.
What a beautiful and magical world of lights I saw. They advertised it everywhere, and people came from all over the world just to bask in those lights.
Entertainment they called it.
That's what caused the laughs, the smiles, and the torture.
I was covered in grime and coughed with the fatigue of inhaling dust. My clothes were ripped and my eyelids heavy from staying open, but they surly did as they watched the metal bars become raised into the sky.
They were constructing rides of unimaginable sizes that were so tall they touched the clouds. At night they glowed, and the distant laughter of people from above touched my ears as I shook in the dark.
Food stands went up, and people excitedly handed over spare dimes and nickels as if they had plenty to spare just to stuff their faces with sugar and fat like gluttonous pigs.
But perhaps the most intriguing of all back then were those tents. Tents casting shadows and forceing audiences into them, only allowing one light to shine. That light is called a spotlight, and one night I watched from outside the tent to stare at the man basking in it.
He called himself a ringmaster. Only he stood in the light, and he had the power to control and give what he pleased to the suckers in the crowds. Everyone stared at him in awe, and suddenly I understood that this man was the most powerful in that room.
He was... a god.
And I was just another shadow.
A shadow that never should have wondered even close to the lights. A man walking about in the cold night suddenly spotted me and laughed; a raspy chortle escaping from his tar stained throat.
He held a cigarette tightly in his shaking hands as he laughed at the sight of me watching the show from outside the flaps of the tent. I could barely make out his face in the darkness, and only the glow from the cigar illuminated the maddened glow in his orbs.
"What a pathetic child," He spoke with a grin, bundling himself tighter in the thick coat he sported against the cold. I had nothing to cover myself in. Even though we were both in the dark, this man held the power of rank above me.
I could do nothing as he grabbed my arm.
"You like watching the show, huh?" His chapped lips formed an unnerving grin, and I could do nothing but struggle under his power as he refused to let me go.
I didn't understand it back then. All I could do was scream as I was tugged into pain and torture; the man raising his cigarette and tauntingly dusting the ashes against my already dirtied cheeks.
I tried to close my eyes and shrink, but the man forced one open between the callused pads of his fingers and I was forced to watch the illuminated object come closer like a daunting omen I couldn't avoid.
With my lid unable to close, my eyes could do nothing to naturally protect me. My body was contorting in the pain as I screamed, and from my good eye I could just make out my shadow casted by the streetlamp behind me.
There were three shadows, one of myself, one of the man holding me, and one of my mother.
Her shadow stood there watching as the cigarette was plunged into my eye. The blazing heat took over the side of my face as my vision darkened in the flooding pain. My screams were satisfying enough for the man to throw me to the floor, and with a small laugh he was gone.
I was crying there, and I wasn't sure what I felt.
"I hate you, you're pathetic," I thought then in pain and anger I couldn't quite direct as my lips trembled. The fact was, the only being I was above was my dead mother. She was no more than a shadow, but at least I still had a body to cast one back then. So instead of myself, I decided to look down on her.
It still didn't make sense that this was happening to me, but someone came along then with an explanation.
Apparently, a woman had been watching the spectacle from afar. I didn't want her to touch me, but she helped me to my knees and looked at me with a sympathy I loathed.
"I'm sorry," she spoke softly, taking a cloth from her purse and trying to wipe the blood trickling down my cheeks from my closed and damaged eye. "I should have jumped in to help you."
I was glad she didn't. I slapped her hand away with a blazing fury in my good eye. She bit her lower lip and sighed, but drew back as if still dealing with a fragile being.
"I really am sorry... You see, the problem is, it looks like they have everything, but they really don't. People like my husband, they're miserable."
She pulled up her sleeve to reveal bruises I was sure came from the man who had just blinded me. The one she called her husband.
She was shaking like a frail bird.
"And... miserable people look for distractions. All they have is entertainment to distract them from their suffering."
I didn't believe her. There was no way that man was miserable. He had riches and wealth, and could torture weaker beings like me any time he pleased. While he may be doing it for entertainment, he certainly wasn't suffering.
"Stay away from me," I spat, noticing my chest grow slightly lighter from feeling as if I could talk down to her. She flinched as if I had been the one who had given her the bruises on her arms and smiled sadly.
Her husband barked at her to return to his side from the tent flaps, and she went running after him; following his heels as if she was his shadow.
My one good eye looked at my trembling hand to see blood on the tips of my fingers. I then looked back through the folds of the tent. The ringmaster was there, still commanding the crowds while basking in his spotlight.
If only that spotlight was mine.
2̵̛̯̦̻̜̳͍̺̐͗̎͒̇̀̂͘ͅ3̴̯̠̩̠͚̩̣͕̖̏͋̇̿̕͜ ̵̢͓̒̉̉̌̈́̒̓̋̀y̴̢̨͚̜̙͙̖̜̜̮͒͌e̸̞̹̖͙̒͋̃à̷̢̗̾͋͋͋̈́͆̋̒̕ŗ̴͕̗͈̹̞̙̪̪̣̇̈́̀̀͂̊̔̏̚s̸̛̛̗͐̑̇̿̍͝ ̵̘̠̙̫͓͉̅̃́̒l̸̼̖̤͉̜̟̈́̃̈̂̾̀̕̕͝á̷̞̟̥̑͒̀̓̇̀̐ţ̷̛͉͓̮̽͂̇̂͊͋̾͜͠ͅę̵̭̟̞̭̅̄̃̋̏r̵̮̣̙͉̪͔̰̖̊̀
I spluttered; finally able to open my eyes but only being greeted with darkness and a substance that rained into them and forced them closed once more. There was something heavy in my lungs and my mouth was immediately stuffed full of heavy particles the moment my lips parted.
I couldn't move. It felt like weights were sitting on my limbs.
There was no way to breathe. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. I panicked in the darkness; hearing an odd scratching noise and praying someone was around. Anyone that could hear my muffled screams and pull me out of the heavy prison that was surely killing me.
More scratching, and soon, I heard voices.
Slowly, light began to penetrate my lids and more coherent sounds formed against my ears.
My limbs felt lighter too, as if someone was slowly removing the weights that had pressed them down with every scratch above me. I reluctantly decided I could finally open my eyes, but when I did, I was practically blinded by the sunlight that flooded them.
Dirt. It had been dirt, and this was obvious the moment I rose above the earth. I choked; coughing up the particles in order breathe once more and quickly sitting up as the dirt rained from my hair and clothes.
Had I been... buried in the ground?!
The dirt had mixed with saliva and created mud that still tainted my tongue and stained my cheeks. I tried to wipe my hands off so I could rub my eyes, but this was hard to do since every inch of me was covered in the particles from the ground.
When my eyes adjusted to the sunlight and I finally found the will to look up, my heart stopped.
There were monsters in front of me. Demons. Ghosts made of pure black fog that had no features and only posed as outlines of humans. They held shovels and rakes in their tarred grips, and I soon knew they were the ones that had dug me from my grave.
That was it then, right? I was dead? Demons must have fetched me from the earth in order to drag me into hell. But... it didn't look like hell.
Instead, it simply appeared to be a large field. It was hot, and the sound of buzzing insects touched my ears as I looked to the side to see other humans seemingly working in the fields I laid in. They all held tools and struck the ground with them, their faces serious and focused as if they were... searching for something. They all had strange numbers pinned to their shirts and paid both me and the bountiful demons around them no mind.
The demon creature right in front of me released an eerie low chuckle that forced my head to turn towards it abruptly. He seemed different from the other monsters, in both appearance and aura.
The other demons were plain and seemed almost mindless. This one had complete control over his actions and could clearly form speech and unique thoughts. Unlike the others, he was garbed in clothing that masked parts of his void-like form.
He stood tall in large boots, worn jeans, and an off white shirt. Perhaps the most notable of his attire was the large wide-brimmed hat on his head.
"Hey there 61," He began simply. His voice sounded worn and raspy, as if it had been used for far to long. "Welcome to the Between."
I blinked, both terrified and completely confused. Why was he referring to me as 61? I wasn't 61, I was...
I was greeted with nothingness as my mind provided no substance as to who I really was. The creature in front of me seemed to note my confused panic and laughed again.
"Yeah, you have no memories. Don't try to think too much, it ain't gonna get you far. No use wearing yourself out on the first day."
I coughed, unable to help it as my lungs were still recovering from the experience of being buried alive... or, buried dead?
"Dying takes a lot out of yuh, huh?" The smoke-like and faceless man in the hat spoke in confirmation of my thoughts. His voice, although worn, seemed... excited. He laughed once more, reaching a hand out to me.
I was frozen in fear. This was surely the devil, right?
"Who are you?" I finally managed to ask. The insects from afar buzzed in the silence as the other demons stood completely still with their tools in hand. The creature grunted and momentarily took hold of his hat as if to tip it before reaching his hand out once more in my direction.
"Just call me the harvester. And you, are a number with no memories. A dead man, who doesn't know how he died or what kind of person he was. I reckon you're terrified, but let me tell you something 61," He leaned close, and my heart almost pounded out of my chest. The fact that he had no face was beyond unsettling. I wondered how he spoke. "You also happen to be a number I've been waiting for for a long time, so pull yourself up and follow me."
The harvester.
His name alone sent chills down my spine, but his words made me so curious that I found I was taking his hand sooner than any sane person would have allowed. He pulled me up, and my weak limbs managed to find enough strength to stand as I fully broke from the ground. His hand had been as cold as ice, and I let go as soon as I could hold my own balance.
I dusted myself off, turning towards the harvester with so many questions I thought I might implode.
He held up a hand as if to silence me, and my mouth clamped closed in obedience. How strange. Naturally, I followed the will of he who was clearly above me.
The harvester snapped his fingers, and the other shadow-like beings slowly moved away back towards the field with the other monsters and humans.
"Follow me," He ordered roughly, a hint of excitement still perked against his voice. He motioned to a barn in the corner of my vision and turned in order to lead me there. I must have been a fool when I was alive, because my curious mind followed the strange farmer ghost and carried my feet all the way to the barn in his footsteps.
The barn was mostly littered with tools, but he led me to a far corner where a door lay. He opened it, motioning for me to walk inside. I swallowed hard and obeyed, coming face to face with a sort of study.
There were books lined against bookshelves and a simple table paired with two chairs inside.
The harvester pushed past me in order to skim the shelves, grab a book, and take a seat in the chair opposite of me. He was quick to put his feet up on the table in a casual way; dirt raining from his boots as he leaned back in the chair and inspected the book in his hands.
"Sit," he ordered, and I quickly did so.
He laughed at my quick obedience, and slowly I found myself growing angry.
"What do you want with me?" I angrily questioned, not as fearful with the harvesters smoky face hidden behind the book. He tisked towards my impatience and lowered the book in his hands a bit to seemingly stare me down.
"If I'm being honest here, quite a lot, Henry."
I froze. Henry? Was that my real name? Somehow, it felt right. I parted my lips to question him, but he continued on.
"Born in poverty, mother died when you were young, angry at the world and those above you. You sought to climb the ranks of life by trampling anyone you could find that was below you. Mostly women it seems. You made your way in the world scamming and sleeping with women so you could take everything from them. How unfortunate your end was so early, but anyone could have seen it coming. Beat to death by a woman's husband you slept with."
The harvester closed the book abruptly, and I sat there completely stunned with what I had heard. No... what was he talking about? Not me, surely... I didn't remember anything like that, and there's no way I was that kind of person... right?
But no. There was something deep inside me stirring. It was not a memory of any sorts, but it was a feeling. A feeling of both shame, horror, and guilt. So surly, what I had heard was true. I had been terrible in life, and this place must have been my hell, even if it didn't fit the typical description.
The harvester was laughing again. The sound made me sick.
"You truly lived a miserable and despicable life, Henry.
I clenched by fist tightly knowing he was right.
"Alright then, so what's my punishment? Don't keep me waiting here, telling me things about my life. And why take my memories in the first place if you're just going to tell me all this?"
The harvester dropped the book he was holding on the floor. It made dust rise, but I was able to see that what must have been my name was etched on the front.
Henry Umbran
"Punishment?" He spoke in his raspy voice, "Henry, there's something you don't understand. I've been waiting for a candidate like you for a long time. Consider this a reward! The other numbers that come here search the ground for days in hopes of unburying paper memories, and I just read a lot of yours off to you."
Reward? Why did I deserve a reward? Clearly I had been a menace to society and deserved to rot in flames. What was he talking about?
The air grew gold as the harvester removed his boots from the table and more formally sat up.
"You were handed the short stick in life. Always at the bottom desperate for the top. Acted out, committed terrible sins without remorse, and ended up dying before you could repent. Tragic. Tragic... but perfect. I suppose I should more formally explain myself to you so you can understand. I have a job here, and it's to regulate this realm and the souls that come and go from it."
Come and go? What did he mean by that? So, there was a way to leave?
"The Between is a temporary stay, a place for souls to sit without any sense of themselves and have one last choice before moving on. That choice is complicated. After 105 days free to roam and find memories, one can choose to leave in a boat out into an unknown ocean, or stay forever until their will and purpose fades. That's who those shadows are; those who chose to stay."
My head was spinning.
"About 13 million years ago, I was given that choice. But, I was also given an exclusive offer. Rule over this land and never have to face the consequences of your life. Hide in your work, and guide other souls until you're ready to fade away."
"13 million-"
"Time works differently here," the harvester spoke with a chuckle. "It's more complicated. Slower."
I held my face in my hands, seeing where he was going.
"So you took the offer?"
The harvester nodded, pointing to his hat.
"He gave me his hat. You see, I was also a despicable man, Henry. I have no memories of who I was after years of being the harvester, but back then, the one in charge told me just as I told you. And I reckon I didn't want to face what I had done in the unknown, so decided to chain myself here. But now..." The air grew ever colder as he chuckled, but there was a strain to his voice. "I think I'm tired. I think I'm ready to disappear, and face whatever happens to me. Maybe I've worked off my debt, or maybe my soul will disappear forever and I'll no longer exist. Whatever happens is for the best."
There was no way. Surly thousands of people die everyday. And of all the thousands, millions even, he was telling me this? Was he really about to-
"I'd like you to take over for me. Be the next one in charge of this realm."
"Why me," I managed to make out, and the harvester was silent for a bit before answering.
"I see myself in you. And, I reckon it might be time for you to finally be the one on top."
His voice seemed strained at this point, and I could practically hear the fatigue.
There was too much to take in. I had just died, and was still trying to figure out where I was. And now the devil was giving me an offer. A deal.
"Don't worry," the harvester chuckled, "This place will be yours. It won't be the dinky old farm I constructed. I rather liked the simplicity, but you seem like a man of flair. This world will develop with you and evolve as both an image of yourself and the changing world. You will make the rules, but make sure to abide by the ones you have to follow."
"Which are?" I questioned, looking him right where his eyes should have been. "What exactly do you do here? What is your job?"
The harvester slowly stood up, the chair beneath him creaking as he stretched.
"I'll tell you if you agree to my offer. I'll give you 10 days to decide, and if you do, then I'll prepare you. If you don't, then, you'll just be 61 to me. Do you understand?"
I did, and nodded to confirm so. He showed me to where I would be able to stay. Little houses littered the fields for numbers to stay in, and I managed to get some sleep even though the outside never turned from day to night even after what must have been 15 hours.
I laid in the bed staring at the ceiling thinking everything over.
I was horrible, wasn't I? In life? I was glad I didn't have my memories, but I realized laying there that maybe it didn't matter.
I still felt small in the big world, and somehow knew that everything the harvester had told me was true. Slowly, I grew angry.
It wasn't fair, was it? I had been born on the streets and had no one that ever cared for me. Maybe it made sense I never cared of anyone in return. I acted out towards the unfairness of the world and bathed in the sins it had handed me.
I had been a sinner, but did I really deserve what might become of me? Is anyone truly a sinner, or simply the product of sins?
I didn't want to face who I had been. I didn't want to move forward until everything was the way it should be, and I could show that to others. I needed a chance to be on top... in the spotlight...
And there was no way I was leaving the chance behind.
The Henry in me was timid and afraid, but there had always been a longing for something bigger than what I was. That was why, only a day later, I requested to meet with the harvester.
He only laughed, not surprised in the slightest that I had chosen to take his offer.
For the next days that followed, he trained me. He walked me around the Between and told me how things should be. I scoffed at the numbers working in the fields, desperately trying to unbury small fragments of their memories written on paper.
How pathetic they looked.
And the humans that chose to stay in the Between. Shadows, the harvester called them. They were pathetic too. They simply obeyed the harvester, and soon, I was told they would obey me.
There was a faded shadow of a woman that followed me everywhere while in the Between, and I grew sick of seeing her. The harvester refused to order her to leave and only laughed at the predicament as if he found it humorous.
I found this shadow the most pathetic.
There were many things I found out about the Between that were curious, and I kept note of everything I needed to abide by with my time in charge. I paled knowing that if I strayed too far from my purpose, my role would surely be stripped from me and I would disappear forever.
The more time I spent with the harvester, the more I thought maybe I was remembering certain things. The longing inside me was unlocking the closer I drew to power.
And I loved it.
Finally it was time, and the harvester called me to his office. He lead me outside and urged me to follow him. We walked for hours, and soon came to a strange beach. I could tell this was where he would hand off the position to me. I was shaking, but ready. The shadow of the woman still followed me, and she stood behind me on the beach.
"Have you thought of a title?" He questioned me then, sensing the lack of regret on me as we stood in front of each other. Finally, the sun in the sky was sinking.
"A title?" I asked, unsure of what he meant.
"Something to call yourself. You aren't a number after all, but you aren't Henry anymore either."
My brain suddenly itched, and somehow I knew the answer to his question.
"The ringmaster," my lips spoke, and the Harvester chuckled.
"I knew you were a man of flair. Well then, thanks for freeing me." He reached up for the hat on his head and took it off, stretching it out to me. I quickly clasped the other end, and simply waited for the harvester to disappear.
He slowly faded, laughing all the while.
"Long live the ringmaster," was the last words he spoke to me as he disappeared into dust. The sun set, and the hat in my hands changed to a top hat made of fine silks. As I placed it on my head I found I was the one laughing.
Not just laughing, but crying.
Henry died then, and I held up my hands to watch my body change into nothingness. I couldn't stop laughing, but soon found the reasoning behind it fading as I became who I always wanted to be.
The shadow of the woman watched my transformation. Slowly, she faded out of existence. Somehow, I knew that had been my mother. And, after seeing her son die, she had faded away forever.
Good riddance.
The world around me changed as well, and as I walked back to where I had arrived at the Between, I watched it change. The harvester had been right, it was my exact image.
Things would be different. There would be ranks, specific jobs, proper order. But not just that; entertainment. Everyone was miserable, so I would be the one to both distract them from it all and also show them the true horrors of reality.
The other numbers who had been plowing in the fields watched in both fear and confusion as the world changed and the dirt ground morphed to cobble. Their faces made me chuckle as their eyes grew wide upon seeing skyscrapers and blinking rides rise into the sky. Games and tents, food and dens of sin. It was all... perfect.
A main tent formed, and I casually walked through the flaps. It was my stage, and it was everything I ever could have hoped for. The shadows went to work just as I instructed, and they began to put on my first show.
"Come one come all!" My voice echoed across the Between, and guests followed the sound. My feet planted on the stage were all that was grounding me from my complete joy and fulfillment.
Numbers entered, taking seats upon my order and watching as finally, finally, a light beamed down to be placed on me. It was that spotlight I had always craved. Not only did I now bask in it, I also controlled it.
"Take your seats!" I spoke through my laughter, unable to hold back the feeling inside me.
The guests watched me in wonder as everything around me finally completed. How miserable they looked. If I had features, my mouth would be split from smiling.
"Are you ready for the show?"
H̴̨̪̥͔̺͖̠͆̎͜E̸͔̖͉̍́̏̚Ṇ̵̲̳̝̱͕̮̀̽́̌̇̆͆͗̈́̚R̴͇̰͋̉Y̴̺͂̎͌̆́̚͠ͅ ̶̧̡̺̙͉̑̋̈́͝Í̴̬̌͛̏͛S̵̮̮̯̻͇͓̹̅̓͝ͅ ̴̖̀́̂͆D̵̳͉̲̑̋̔E̷̡̫͙͖͖͋̐̈́͜͝A̵̛̳̗̗͙͔̼̣͚͋͂̈́D̴̢̠͚̦̙̪̳͕͓͋͗̆̉̽́͝
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