Page Sixteen: Twilight Encounter

…as the sun sets over the city the Shadow's time is approaching. Hope is fading as the Waking Lands prepare for sleep. Soon Despair will grow, bloom and flourish in the twilight half-light and sodium glare of street lamps. The endless cycle continues and the Shadow is ready to slip from the Darqlands, now more vigilant and prepared for the powers of Light and Hope…

The girl stood in the Station concourse, watching the daytime commuters head back to their comfortable lives in the comfortable suburbs, with their comfortable families in their comfortable homes. If only that were true, she thought. No, life is not like that, it's twisted and dirty, it's cruel and vicious. Mean people forced to live meaningless lives. Like her father, they leave the city to take out their anger and frustration in the privacy of their own homes. Safe behind closed doors and drawn curtains they turn from sheep to tyrants. Spiteful people in spiteful homes. As she watched, she saw through their weary city-washed faces into their souls buried deep within, she could measure their lives and knew when they would die. In them she saw the repressed desires - an endless stream of would be abusers, addicts, pornographers, perverts, murderers, rapists and alcoholics. But like an oasis in the desert, she occasional glimpsed signs of hope: The Lawyer who donated half is salary to charity; the PA who wanted to grow orchids; the Accountant who wanted to expose corruption; a Private Detective who dreams; the Banker who would rather be a Bluesman and the Civil Servant who was rushing home to write romantic novels. A smile came to her face as she was reminded of the magical scene in The Fisher King, with the people waltzing through Grand Central Station. But these commuters would not do that, they would not admit their dreams. Even in her own dreams she could not image these people being so externally spontaneous, so visibly irrational and so openly honest. Honesty, that is what is missing. She looked at the money in her hand, she had enough to get her half-way to nowhere. And that was all she needed, to escape the city and start again in another where that was not here ~ a nowhere or even half-way nowhere ~ a somewhere that was someplace else. But she did not want to leave the city, she could not face starting again. She was not even sure she knew what she was running from, she just had an overwhelming desire to safeguard the coin and the only way she knew how to do that was to run away. So to be honest to herself, she turned and walked out of the Station.

…yet it is not ready to confront the Sphinx, it needs more souls, it needs the Darqlands to be stronger…

The familiarity of the Station and the pull of the coffee bar started to make Philip feel uneasy. The girl was obviously planning to leave the city, but she had been nowhere near the ticket booths. She just stood and watched the commuters fleeing the city. Neither looking lost, nor searching for anyone, Philip could not work out what she was doing. It could be she had come her to met the Angel he met this morning and that did not put him any more at ease. However, it was evident she was not going anywhere just yet, so he risked buying a cup of coffee from the near-by cart, which he did while constantly looking over his shoulder to check on the girl. If she moved, he would have to jettison the drink and run after her. Positioning himself by the boards of timetables, he sipped at his coffee and watched the girl watching the commuters. For that instant, he was lost in the pleasure of the coffee. The hot dark liquid warmed as he drank, its aroma filling his nostrils with the bitter burnt smell of freshly ground beans. Looking up from his cup, Philip was aware that once more he had slipped into the ephemeral dream-state where the pace of normal life flashed past in a blur. Now he could see the city's Invisibles, the flotsam carried through the crowds by brownian motion, moving at odds to the general flow of traffic. He looked towards the girl, stationary in the pool of the concourse as the stream of passengers flowed and eddied around her. To Philip it seemed as if she too is out of sync with the rest of the world and ran in a different time-frame. Abruptly she turned and cut a direct path towards the exit, leaving a wake of bewilderment in the commuters and invisibles behind her. Temporarily off balanced by the déjà vu of the moment, Philip hesitated, then dropped the half empty cup into a waste bin and carved his own swathe through the crowd.

…so the Shadow rose out of the Darqlands and soared into the evening sky. With its senses tuned to the scent of Despair, ready to swoop down on unsuspecting souls and rip them away and feed the ever hungry Darqness…

Deeper and deeper, deeper still. The room sucked at Ashiya, drawing her deeper into its fabric, into its warmth. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. The chemicals cross-wired synapses and rerouted signals, short-circuiting neural pathways and basically fucked with her brain. Touch had taste, smells could be heard and sounds vibrated with colour; reality and normality muddied and merged like a childs' paint-box. Ashiya opened her eyes and saw herself looking at herself. Closing her eyes she gave herself up to the drug. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. The feel of finger tips on her eyelids danced like the dappled shadows of trees in the snow. The gentle caress of silk on her arm sparkled with the iridescent beauty of laughter. A light kiss on her lips fizzed with the electric radiance of satin. Firm, insistent pressure between her thighs sang to the enchantment of whale-song. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. She again opened her eyes and she was still there, now locked in an embrace with herself / the girl from the restaurant / the shop assistant / the woman in the apartment opposite. Once again she closed her eyes and now gave her self up to her new lover. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. Waves of pleasure engulfed her, beyond animalistic sex; it was pure, beyond love; it was devotion and beyond affection; it was trust. It elevated her to levels of bliss that only exist in poetry. This was fulfillment, her quest and her ultimate need, her delirium met by the desires of another. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. Committed to the release of all her emotions, Ashiya absorbed, and was absorbed by, her paramour, neither selfish or selfless they became one. Completeness. Deeper and deeper, deeper still. Then slowly they separated, without yearning or loss, for even apart they would forever be one. Lost in total contentment, Ashiya felt something cold and metallic being pushed into the palm of her hand and everything went blank.

…once again the hunting is not good, the city is under the spell of a protective spirit. Sweeping over the roof tops, the cowl of protection is imperfect, there are chinks and leaks. The Shadow follows the faint traces of Despair where then can be found, for they are here, in isolated pockets of dissolution and desolation…