Charley felt its slow passage through the city, as it devoured the souls of the living, the sleeping and the anxious.
Supporting himself on the crumbling Roman wall, he fought to steady himself against the growing vertigo and the sensation of losing the ground beneath his feet. This was a dream, he knew, in reality he could not stand. Reality had put him into a wheelchair and only his dreams could give him his legs back.
Its outline was vague but recognisable. Muted lights shone through from its inner mass as it engulfed smaller buildings and passed through office blocks. Sometimes he lost sight of it in the darkness but then it would re-appear, more focused and growing in size. Its form was huge and bloated, like an earthworm cut in two. Spinning on a cycle of ever diminishing returns, his mind tried to resist the abyss that beckoned. The ancient wall he stood upon held him firm, just as they had for many hundreds of years.
Lightning spidered across the distant horizon, a huge storm front was approaching. The air felt charged, heavy and filled with expectancy.
"Goes against everything you know and understand, doesn't it?"
A tall figure appeared silently and from nowhere, his face as pale as the waxing moon. He paid Charley little notice, as he looked unblinking at the emerging terror before them. Straight white hair went as far as his shoulder blades. The clothes reminded Charley of his time as a bouncer in the fetish scene. This was the real deal though, not some distraction to take the wearer out of the greyness of the modern world. The figures eyes were unlike any he had ever seen and looked fixed and unyielding.
"What is it?" Charley found his voice, even though he'd not thought it lost. Why be afraid, he thought, dreams often threw up new directions to bait and tempt the dreamer.
The stranger was silent as if trying to find the right words to describe what they both saw. Finally, he said, "It is known to the ancient Egyptians as Ammut, The Devourer of Souls. It has many names but its only purpose is to consume. By doing so, it grows stronger as we grow weaker. The doors are opening onto your world, the scales have tipped in its favor and it wants nothing more than the freedom to roam among you."
The words made his stomach lurch, as if he was waking from a dream, but before he could think too deeply on the meaning of the words, the fixed and solid landscape began to change. The street-lights were gone and camp-fires blinked warmly in their place. Where buildings once stood, there existed smaller constructions with conical roofs made of wood and straw. The Devourer of Souls remained in this world, seeming bigger than ever before.
"It weaves itself through space and time, experiencing life on many levels. Through us, it lives. Without us, it dies. It's the very thing we fear the most, the calamity of days and all our efforts, our weaknesses and spent aspirations."
"Does it ever stop?"
"Never; it follows the tide of dawn and is never sated. As the world grows in number, so does its size."
"But its size remains the same."
"When it was here last, it was smaller. Through the latent memories of your people, it returns, sampling the stored energy of your ancestors. Each time frame holds its own draw. Nothing is overlooked. It samples your world like fine wine. The souls of your people lend character to its memories of this world."
Waves of shadowy figures surround the encampment making their way into its heart. Screams broke the near silence. Dogs barked and people shouted. He heard the sound of weapons clashing. The Devourer of Souls fed on their dwindling numbers.
"Why does it come back to these times?" His heart felt chilled by the scene but he also felt detached from it. This was a time long gone; involving events and people that he knew little about.
"Just like The Devourer of Souls, you too seek second-hand experiences. Your dependence on a flickering screen leaves you empty. Your people live in a technological bubble. More and more it is driven to your past"
"Which means?"
"Which means it is running out of places to visit. The past is almost spent. Drawn increasingly to your time, the future of your world is a lot bleaker than you think."
"Are you from this time?"
"I exist in all times. Past, present and future are all open to me."
Buildings were blazing, sending out wisps of swirling flame into the night. The scene became hazy. Burning straw and wood, mixed with the charred remains of the dead or the dying, reminded him of sizzling pork on a barbecue. The smell made him feel uncomfortable and the sound of the hungry flames sent up rising pockets of hot air, distorting the view and burning his eyes. He could taste the carnage and its sharp reality brought tears to his eyes.
"Why is there so much pain in the world? Why do we even feel at all?"
The stranger seemed to contemplate Charley's words. "People like constants. Objects are lost or broken and then replaced. People are different, unique, and non-replaceable. The separation jars the senses. To the Devourer of Souls, this suffering is its sugary dew on which it feeds."
Charley looked upon the devourer as it harvested past torments, and then the scene shifted again. The fires diminished and even the gorging monstrosity dissolved and disappeared. All the land flattened and became inky black. In place of everything and the world itself, a vast maze arose. The only way he could think of it was as a stone hedge maze, smooth, sharply defined, and having rivers of shiny black oil where you'd normally expect to walk.
"What is this place?"
"All roads lead to Hades. The Beast is ready. When it comes, it will come as a dark rain upon your world; all will be lost to its ravenous hunger. Come, I will show you what you face."
Charley felt a shrill of panic at these words. He'd been so engrossed in the vast maze that he'd not noticed that the stranger had moved in behind him. Strong fingers gripped his shoulders and he slowly found himself turned as if on a spit.
"Fear leads to weakness, Charley. You have such powers invested in you—all of you—but you're so full of fear!"
"Come with me and I will show you what lies beyond the secret veil of your world."
"No," he said, instinctively closing his eyes, "I won't go."
"You must, sooner or later. It is your destiny."
The wall crumbled and shifted under his weight. He felt the welcoming abyss behind him and he opened his eyes to stave off the sensation of falling. There was no monster staring back at him. The stranger's face was pale but thankfully unchanged. His eyes were blue and piercing, like sea-covered planets.
The Roman wall, which he'd once stood upon, was now gone. In its place was a circular walkway. The maze was all around them and they were at its center.
They were much higher than before, the drop much greater. It felt as if they were on of an immense tower with a black chimney at its core. Black and welcoming it sent a shrill of fear into his mind.
"Soon, you must go." There was no underlying malice in his voice or face.
He felt the wall completely give under his weight and fall into the abyss behind him. Even the edge of the path caved in, dissolving like sand in an hourglass. The stranger's hand drifted away from his shoulder as gravity pulled him down.
He felt himself fall and instinctively reached out. The man grabbed his hand firmly as his legs dangled in midair. The thought of falling down into the maze, into the oily rivers below, was too much.
He looked down through the haze of dust and caught sight of a growing darkness. It looked like a mushroom cloud, seething and restless, climbing up the wall of the tower like a snake. It brought with it a terrible noise, as if it excited the air itself, releasing all manner of trapped worldly pain.
"There's nothing to fear, Charlie," the stranger said, as he loosened his grip on his hand.
He fell into space, with nothing to stop him. Air fluttered his clothes around him. The tower grew to a point, as a screeching, howling, noise filled his mind. It took an age but all light diminished and he knew he'd reached The Devourer of Souls. It was at this moment that he forgot everything, even his fear.
Projected pictures formed in the darkness. Scenes of torture and sadism, pain and pleasure crowded his mind. Smaller hurts were here too; a sharp word from a loved one, a broken promise to a child.
Pain, loss, heated dominance and cold indifference. Every negative emotion, every survival trigger, found itself represented as a vast library of suffering and truth.
He had no idea if he was still falling. He'd forgotten himself in the maelstrom of knowledge. All fear was gone, now he felt only sorrow.