Resurrection House by James Chambers Page A

off-guard and unable to flee to the depths, she was battered in the maelstrom and left senseless, an easy catch for the St. William’s nets.
    I questioned Lynna about Dagmar’s theories, and she confirmed many of them, including the immortality of her own kind, who died only by accident or murder. She spoke of her dwelling in the freezing depths, of the curse that had afflicted her family, and the pledge of her great-great-grandfather to Dagon, an old god, forgotten by mankind.
    That was the truth of the disease she suffered: life immortal, a home away from cruel men, a place among the vast numbers of her clan. A balance for the hideous aspect her body had assumed as she matured.
    I promised to return that night after Lynna had been moved into the Aquarium and help her escape. Taking advantage of Dagmar’s trust in me, I saw to it that no security officers would be on duty. The research facility stood on the coast, and it would be a short trip to the open water.
    * * * * *
    Human again. That’s how I had made her feel when we were together. But then she had robbed me of my humanity, shattered every hope I had of being happy, before she returned to tear down the foundations of the life I had built without her. Lynna and her grandmother had found their safe haven, but now they had destroyed mine.
    A sharp gale carries stinging sand into my eyes. I rub them raw. I sigh. Leaning into the backseat, I seize the coarse burlap and tug the heavy bundle onto the beach. Something screeches on the water. I straighten and peer into the moon-licked ocean, seeking shadows, phantoms, monstrosities.
    The water froths and calms.
    The pale night looks like all eternity.
    I scream the secret names Lynna shared with me, the abominable oaths of the outcast, of the damned.
    * * * * *
    Jealousy, hatred, rage, fear. My soul floundered in violent emotions. Lynna had come back into my life only to leave it again. Too soon. And knowing it was her, I no longer found her grotesque appearance horrifying. She was my Lynna, and in my mind, I still saw her as the beautiful, young girl who wrapped her arms around me and gave me my first kiss. I wanted to go with her now, but she said it was impossible. Maybe, when we were younger, it could’ve been arranged, but not now. But I didn’t believe her. With Lynna beside me, I thought, anything should be possible.
    I remembered what I said to her the last time I saw her back in Knicksport, words to which she never replied. The memory boiled in my mind. My hands shook as I opened the tank access hatch and helped Lynna emerge. Then as she sought her footing on the slick tile floor of the lab, it was as if my thoughts broke apart and my body acted purely on the fuel of the rage I felt at this new loss. I seized a microscope and caved in the back of Lynna’s skull. Once Lynna had shown me the possibilities of the world, but twice she had stolen them all away from me. She gave me hope only so that I would understand the true depths of my loneliness. I had no forgiveness for her in my heart, which felt as scarred and calloused as my body.
    But when I looked upon her dying face and saw her eyes turning plastic and filmy, my senses returned, and I realized the expansive horror I had committed against Lynna but against myself, as well. I had become those who had tortured me in my youth, a body animated by dumb fury, lashing out at something unlike me, something that had shattered the fleeting security of my existence. I wailed as the last spark of life faded from Lynna’s expression, and I wept as I wrapped her body in burlap, placed it in my car, and drove to the beach. Even in the face of such horror, I felt compelled to keep my word, to help Lynna escape.
    * * * * *
    Fresh tears roll down my face.
    I pray Lynna’s people can undo what I have done, that immortality can be renewed, that her powerful, ancient god can restore what I have taken from the world. And that perhaps, he may find some measure of pity for one