“Do we really need to go to Emily’s house to do this?” asked Olivia as she, Rachael, and Emily stepped into the elevator.
Rachael pressed the button for the ground floor, and they descended as a start to the answer which was then completed by a “Yes. The ritual will work best there. And I’m sure Emily has everything we’ll need.”
“Well,” Emily wanted to be careful, “let me ask what we’ll be needing just to be sure.”
“A black, rotary phone and two black cords are the unique materials,” Rachael listed.
“That’s the ritual you’re planning on using?” Emily was skeptical.
“What’s the ritual?” Olivia needed further explanation to help against her hesitation with the idea.
“It’s called ‘The Black Telephone Ritual,’” Rachael named.
“But it’s not a method for contacting the other side,” Emily explained. “It’s meant for travel to an Otherworld, similar to ‘The Elevator Game.’”
Rachael assured with a less reassuring fact, “True. But I intend to tweak the ritual so that we can reach Andy. Remember, things like spirit boards and spirit boxes are meant to contact the dead. They’d never work unless he is already …” she did not finish what she was saying, not ready to consider that yet. “This is the best chance to contact a living person in an Otherworld.”
“Okay,” Olivia accepted because she, too, did not want to think that the worst had happened yet.
“But if it doesn’t work?” Emily presented the fact that was being avoided.
“That’s likely to happen when you altered a long-established ritual,” Rachael already readied an excuse.
“Rachael—” Emily was trying to make the possibility clear so that if it was true then it would not be as painful.
“Emily!” Rachael interrupted with a snap because she did not want to confront the issue. Then her demeanor returned as she asked, “Your car or mine?”
The short drive was quiet. Rachael took her car which allowed her the wheel and used her role as the driver to focus on doing the task which was for the best. She knew if she was to speak, the only thing that would come out of her mouth would be thoughts and excuses about the plan. Emily decided to keep to herself. She no longer wanted to keep pushing because whatever she had to say would fall on deaf ears leaving her disappointed. And Olivia was merely along for the ride. She made no small talk because that would feel more awkward in this situation than complete silence.
They arrived at the home and parked on the curb.
Smoking on the stoop was Mark who sluggishly waved when he saw them pull up. His long, curly, dirty blonde hair was frizzy and shaken loose from what was usually a bun. His darker-shaded beard seemed a little overgrown on this day. He looked tired by the way he slouched and weaker because of his skinny frame. Though, poor posture did not obscure his tall stature.
“Hey, Mark,” Rachael greeted.
“I didn’t think I’d get to see you,” he replied in a very weary yet glad tone.
“Something kept me here,” she dryly joked.
“Yeah,” he understood, losing any sense of joy. “How are you? And you, Olivia?”
“I’m doing well,” Rachael said plainly.
“Me, too,” Olivia agreed without much consideration.
Mark gave an empty nod to their answers.
“I’ll join you two inside in a sec,” Emily said to usher the other women into the house, telling them to, “Look around for the supplies and set things up while I take a minute with my fiancé.”
Rachael and Olivia entered as they had been asked, leaving Emily and Mark by themselves.
“I’m surprised you’re home,” Emily noted.
“A lot of places closed for the day after what happened,” Mark explained. “Honestly though, even with what happened, I think I’d preferred to stay working. That would at least keep me distracted. It’s not like I know what to do in this situation. I’m just left worrying. What about them? They seem rather stoic for two people that are doing well.”
“They’re trying their hardest to avoid the possibility that Andy could be … he could be dead,” Emily was blunt. “We’re going to attempt a ritual that might allow us to contact him. But I’m afraid if this doesn’t work … what next? We could try to reach him in a thousand different ways and never succeed. When will they realize?” She shook her head because she was not liking any of the things she was saying. The subject was changed, “How are you?”
“Third cigarette,” as if that was all he needed to say to explain his stress. “You really think he’s dead?”
“I don’t know?” Emily admitted. “But I’m the only one prepared to accept the worst.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark said with a grim expression.
“Why are you apologizing?” Emily disconnected from the anxiety for just that moment to smirk at the kind yet seemingly out-of-place condolence.
“Because you’ve had to be the rational one up until this point,” Mark recognized. “You’ve not been able to express your own feelings.”
That spurned Emily to truly reflect on everything that happened since the disaster. She brought her hand to her face and began to rub her brow. A breath attempted to balance the difficult contemplation. Little did that help. Another breath was taken, then she began to cry.
Mark stepped closer, pulling her into an embrace.
Emily pressed her head into his chest. Her hands wrapped around him and desperately grabbed hold of him by his shirt. She wept her sorrow-filled words, “Andy might actually be dead.”
Mark rested the side of his head on top of hers and began to quietly cry just the same as he pulled her in tighter.
“You idiot,” Emily insulted, her way of showing him love. “What about you? He’s your best friend. You must be feeling the worst.”
“I am,” Mark admitted. His body could be felt beginning to tremble. “But don’t make this about me. Don’t make this about anybody else other than you, right now. Take care of your feelings first.”
Emily buried her face into the fabric of his clothes. A long silence stretched before her muffled sobs started. She began to feel heavier as her legs refused to hold her up any longer. The two lowered to the ground and cried in each other’s arms for the loss of a dear friend. They stayed this way for as long as they needed.
“Damn it,” Emily broke the tension with the declaration. Tears were wiped away and her unshakable façade slowly returned. Though, her bloodshot eyes remained to tell a different story. “This is stupid. You’re stupid. We don’t know if he’s dead yet.”
“Now you’re sounding like them,” Mark compared but was happy to do so.
“Whatever. I’m going to head in before they touch something they’re not supposed to,” Emily excused.
“Do what you need to do,” Mark understood. “I’ll be here not getting in your way. And don’t forget that I love you.”
“Now you’re just making things awkward,” Emily shied. “Why are you so annoying?”
“At least I’m not a crybaby,” he playfully mocked.
“You were crying plenty,” she exposed.
“I was,” he confessed without shame.
That left her paused. After slowly recovering, she clumsily shared her feelings, “I love you, too. Now, I’m going inside.” Quick steps moved her passed him before there was a chance of being caught up in another emotional moment.
Right on the other side of the front door was Rachael setting up a vintage, black rotary phone in the hallway. Set on the same console table, beside the device, were three things – a pen, a sheet of paper, and two long pieces of black cord. Further examination recognized that the lights throughout the rest of the house had been turned off, along with curtains being shut, leaving only the hallway brightly lit.
“Not going to wait for nightfall?” Emily doubtfully questioned. “It’s barely passed noon. Probably the worst time to be doing the ritual.”
“The sooner the better,” Rachael hustled. “The longer we wait, the less likely Andy … You know time constraints don’t usually affect my rituals. Just trust me. We do this, and we’ll get to talk to him.”
“Well,” Emily wanted to maintain reason. “Okay. But please don’t get your hopes up.”
“This will work as long as we do everything right,” Rachael said with complete optimism.
“Rachael—”
Olivia stepped out of the back room, interjecting into the middle of the conversation that she was not aware of, “You have an amazing collection.” Her expression showed how much she truly adored the occult that once held influence over her young life. This was her kid-in-a-candy-shop experience.
“Thank you,” Emily appreciated. With that interruption, and after taking a long look at Rachael, the decision was made to not keep playing devil’s advocate. Instead, cooperation came by saying, “Just let us know when you want us to step out.”
“Aren’t we all doing this together?” Olivia assumed.
Emily shook her head. “Only one person can be in the house for this one.”
Rachael debatably hummed at the presumption. Then she amended, “That rule is intended for amateurs. You and I have plenty of experience and should be fine doing the ritual together. As for Olivia? She did see Ligaya so … you should join us. I don’t know if it will work if we involve you, but you deserve to be a part of this.”
“Are you sure?” Olivia was being cautious. “I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You believe, right?” Rachael tested.
“Absolutely,” said as if her passion had been completely rekindled.
“Then we can begin right now,” Rachael readied.
“What about Ligaya?” Olivia gave the reminder as she looked around for the spirit.
Emily looked around as well. “She’s not here right now.”
“Hopefully she stays away,” Rachael’s remark brought Emily’s scolding stare. “What? I’m not being mean. Her presence could interfere.”
“Then I guess that’s probably why she’s not here,” Emily reasoned.
“In any case, are you two ready?” Rachael wanted to move forward.
“I am.”
“Me, too.”
“Alright,” Rachael clasped her hands together. But, delaying just a bit more, she gave a warning to Olivia, “Once we begin, say nothing. We’ll give hand signs or show by example if we need you to do anything. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Olivia promised.
“Then let’s begin.”
Rachael turned around to face the phone with Emily and Olivia watching over her shoulders. One of the black cords came first, being tied tightly around the handset of the phone. Then the handset was picked up and brought to her ear. This sequence of numbers was dialed: zero-two-zero-four-zero-seven-zero. Then the phone was hung up by placing the handset back on the cradle only to be picked up again and a new sequence of numbers input: six-six-six-one-one-one-two. The call went through.
Dead silence filled the line like static. Yet, in the background, there seemed to be words that were not audible but more sensational. It was as if they were heard from directly behind, slowly becoming something right by, and then invading the back of the mind, I know you’re there.
The handset was gently placed on the tabletop next to the phone. The three women stepped back and made their way to the next room over, the living area. Once inside, Rachael brought a mechanical watch to her ear, and as soon as the door was shut, began to count the ticks. At precisely one minute, the door was opened, and they returned to the hallway, hanging up the phone and repeating everything they had just done.
The call went through. Don’t ignore me! came the scream causing only Olivia to jump.
The phone was placed down again, and they went to the dining room this time to wait the one minute like before. On return, the phone was hung up again, and the numbers were called again for the third time.
Hey guys, it’s Andy, spoke a voice that was exactly like his, except not from the phone but from somewhere in the room.
Olivia, not realizing, became elated and was about to speak. Her mouth was quickly covered by Emily’s hand before that terrible mistake was made.
Come on, Andy’s voice pressed. I know you’re there. Why won’t you say anything? Come on. SAY SOMETHING!
The voice was ignored as they went to the backroom kitchen, spent a minute in the dark, and came back.
The final cycle began, and this was where things changed. A new series of numbers were dialed: two-two-eight-two-two. Now, usually, they would go through the fourth door to be transported to an Otherworld. But that was not the goal. They needed to be in the room with the phone. So, the second black cord was pulled out, tied into a loop, and hung on the half-bathroom door that was under the staircase. They did not enter. This resulted in them being locked between worlds instead of traveling between them. This space was technically connected to all Otherworlds and should be within reception range.
Rachael hung up and called Andy’s cellphone number. There was a ring that was quickly cut off and replaced by silence. Then, “Who … uhm … who is this?” spoke Andy very cautiously.
Olivia did not know what was real after what happened before. But, seeing Emily begin to smile and Rachael become exhausted with relief, this had to be the real him.
“It’s us!” screamed Olivia. “Me and Rachael and Emily!”
Silence followed.
“Andrew?” Olivia concerned.
I don’t know what to say,” Andy admitted. “I just tried to call all of you but didn’t get through. None of this feels real. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to be reacting right now—”
“Where are you?” Rachael needed more important details.
“I don’t know,” he remained unhelpful. “Everybody in my office spontaneously combusted. I ran out of the building. But this place isn’t Darkess.”
“Describe where you’re at,” Rachael instructed.
“It’s a city,” he explained. “A massive city that seems to go on forever. And everything is covered in ash. There were two giant creatures. One was practically a walking mountain and the other was something between a bat and a lizard. I don’t know what else. Uhm, the sky is grey with a black sun. Uh … hmm—”
Hey guys, it’s Andy.
Rachael slammed the handset on the cradle in anger, hanging up the phone, breaking the phone in fact as the thin wired arms were bent and the whole thing fell onto the floor, denting the metal. “SHIT! We lost connection!”
Emily gave a wide-eyed look of anger as her property was mishandled.
“But we know he’s alive,” Olivia declared optimistically.
“Right,” Rachael acknowledged with little relief. “Let’s get out of this place before bad things start to happen. Look around for an eight-digit number— Never mind,” she found the number right away underneath where the phone had been. Seemed her outburst had helped. She wrote the digits down on a piece of paper. Holding it up to the others, she told, “Remember and repeat this number in your head over and over. Don’t stop until you know when to. And you will know. It’s a strange feeling that happens. When you’re ready, we’re going to close our eyes and open the door that I put the cord on.”
Soon, each took hold of the doorknob, layering their hands over one another. Their eyes were closed to concentrate. The number played in their minds as many times as needed until, in sync, thoughts fell completely still, and they opened the door together. The air was pulled through the door into the room on the other side as if pressure was being released. Taken with it were shadows, thick with substance like oil, that had begun to accumulate during the ritual, as well as the sensations of being watched, the chill of the spine, and a bitter taste in the mouth. The door was closed immediately after to trap everything within leaving the world feeling normal.
“You should never open this door ever again,” Rachael warned with guilt in her voice.
“What?” Emily became frustratingly concerned. “Why?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s another dimension in there now,” Rachael confessed.
“What!?” Emily was furious. “That’s the bathroom!”
“You have a second one,” Rachael said in defense.
“That’s mine and Mark’s bathroom on the second floor,” Emily argued.
“Sorry,” Rachael gave into her apathy. “I’ll think of a way to fix this. But let’s start opening the curtains and turning on the lights first.”
Emily put her fight aside and worked to bring the light back into the house with Olivia.
Rachael worked on a different responsibility, burning the piece of paper that had the written numbers followed by wrapping the ashes in a new piece of paper that was expertly folded into an origami pouch. She stared intently at the thing but was actually lost in her thoughts thinking about something else.
Olivia cautiously approached Rachael who was like a statue. The questions came up, “Alright, now that we’ve talked with Andrew, what’s next? Were you able to figure out where he was?”
“No,” Rachael admitted. Her face squeezed with the pain of despair. She pulled her body in and began to take in shallow breaths. Lips curled tightly to keep in the sudden onset of emotion caused by the question. Her arms crossed to hold everything in, and her fingers clawed her skin. But a painful wail escaped her throat.
“What’s the matter—” Olivia called out in alarm.
“I don’t know what I was thinking!” Rachael cried. “How in the hell am I supposed to know where he is!? A city of ash! That means nothing! There are countless Otherworlds! This was pointless!”
“We know he’s alive,” Olivia reassured, pulling Rachael into a comforting embrace. “That’s something.”
“But for how long!?” Rachael defied. “He said there were creatures! He’s not like us! He doesn’t know anything about magic! He’s a programmer for Christ’s sake!”
“But” Emily stated, “we now know there’s a chance. We didn’t have that before. So, let’s try something else. No giving up.”
Rachael looked over with hopeless uncertainty. Simple words and wants were not going to be enough. There was no place to start, and no known direction to head toward. Finding one person in the endless cosmos was not something achieved by wishful thinking alone.
That was when a cellphone rang disrupting the tension. Emily slowly pulled the device from her pocket and looked to see who could possibly be calling at this very moment. The number was unknown. But, in these current circumstances, this might be important. She answered without acknowledgment.
From the other end of the line came, “Emily? This is Marcy.”