The Guardian's Protector: The Chamber of Souls (32 page)

After a few moments, Mark let go of Amy and rushed forward to catch Tom as he fell back, faint.

‘Tom?’ Amy asked, falling to her knees at their sides. Tom’s eyes were heavy and he looked exhausted.

‘It won’t go away, Mum,’ he said weakly. ‘I tried my best but it won’t go. I’m sorry.’

Joan collapsed at the side of Thomas and broke down. Amy’s heart ached. She’d never seen her look so helpless.

Amy gazed at Mark, her eyes desperate and full of hope. ‘Can
you
heal him?’ she whispered.

‘You can save him yourself, Amy. I’ll help you to Omnipion and Adaizi will teach you to heal.’

‘Can’t you just do it now?’

‘I can,’ he answered, his eyes filled with compassion, ‘but I think this would be a further incentive for you to visit Omnipion.’

‘I need this, do I?’ Amy snapped, turning to look at her father. ‘Is this for
my
growth?’

Mark took her hand and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said. This time he wasn’t joking. Amy couldn’t believe what he’d said. Standing tall, his eyes still holding every inch of love he had for her, she knew he really thought he was doing the right thing. She also knew that if he felt that way, then Adaizi certainly would too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 22

THE MEMORY

 

Amy stayed up all night, thoughts rushing through her mind. She hated that Mark was right. The thought of her father’s life being in her hands pushed any last resistance she held away. She was ready to go to Omnipion—there was no doubt about that—she just needed to ask Adaizi something.

Mark had asked if Adaizi could come for a meeting after breakfast. Amy was looking at her watch and pacing the hallway when Adaizi rapped on the door.

Amy opened the front door while Adaizi was still in mid-knock. As soon as she stepped inside, Mark came out of the classroom from where he’d been helping Tom. After making the three of them a cup of tea, they ventured to the seating area at the back of the living room.

With the room being occupied with at least ten other residents, some playing pool, some watching different TVs, they kept their voices low.

‘You told me once you can take memories,’ Amy began.

‘I sure did,’ Adaizi replied, her eyebrows furrowed.

‘After I heal my father,’ Amy said, shooting Mark a dark look, ‘I want you to take my family’s memories of me.’

Adaizi sat back in contemplation. ‘Why would you want that, beautiful?’

‘I never want to see my family as vulnerable as that again.’

‘That’s a very noble decision,’ Mark interjected, his face mixed with compassion and relief.

‘I want Jack to still live here with us though, if that’s possible?’

‘Amy,’ Adaizi began, taking her hand, ‘a decision like this has never been made by a gifted being, especially one that hasn’t even connected to their higher mind. I don’t think you should make it lightly. The loss of your family could make you Sleep!’

‘Exactly,’ Mark added. ‘You know more than anyone, Adaizi, if Ethan would’ve seen us at her parents’, they may already be dead!’

‘Mark,’ Adaizi said, ‘I totally agree, but she needs to think about…’

‘I’ve thought about nothing else for months,’ Amy interrupted. ‘I’ve been staying away to protect them and yet I feel guilty for not seeing them. They think I don’t care. All I need to know now is what is Sleep?’ Amy remembered Rose had mentioned it to her, but never explained.

‘Sleep is an extremely painful, depressed, and catatonic state. It happens when something is too upsetting for a gifted soul. It’s like we run out of steam and just can’t carry on. Sleep drains a body so much that organs can even shut down. Sleep basically leaves you in a coma-like state forever.’

Amy knew by the look in Adaizi’s eyes she thought she’d been convincing. ‘I’ll have to take that risk then,’ Amy concluded. Adaizi looked to Mark for support.

‘I’ll
show
her!’ Mark offered. ‘She could Sleep either way. It’s better than if Ethan kills them! At least she’s making the choice to protect them.’

‘Mark,’ Adaizi said gravely, ‘you can’t
show
her. An image so dark could tear a mind in two.’

‘She can handle it,’ Mark countered. ‘It will help her with her decision. If it’s validated she won’t be traumatised into Sleep. You said for us to manage this mission effectively, we need to awaken her senses, shock her system into
feeling
.’

‘I did.’ Adaizi looked at him agreeably.

‘Show me what?’

‘What happened to me,’ Mark said morosely. Amy stared at him and felt a sudden pang of pain. She didn’t know what he meant but, from the look on his face, she knew it wasn’t good.

‘Mark?’ Adaizi asked, her tone full of compassion as she squeezed his hand.

‘Amy can handle it.’ He held his hand out for Amy and, nervously, she took it.

He led her out of the living area and under the stairs to the closet next to the classroom. She looked back through the staircase and saw Adaizi leave with a sorrowful smile. Amy closed the closet door and looked back at Mark, wondering what they were about to do.

Mark rummaged past the many coats to the back wall and, after running his glowing hand down the wall, it seemed to disintegrate, leaving a perfectly square, bright white room to walk into.

‘Come in,’ Mark said. As she followed him into the pure white area, the wall rose silently behind her, sealing them in.

They stood in a strange white cube—the white itself glowing as if alive. Like they had entered a realm where sound couldn’t exist; silence was absolute. The room felt clinical yet wonderfully calming, as if she had stepped into a safe zone, freed from the world itself. It felt like a square Void.

Mark knelt down on the floor and, like the room knew to accommodate his knees, it became a soft surface. He held out his hands and she stepped towards him, her eyes wide, not knowing what to feel.

‘It’s alright,’ he cooed. The sound of his soothing voice didn’t carry, but it still filled her senses with warmth. She took his hands and looked deep into his eyes. As she watched the teal begin to sparkle, shivers rushed down her spine. ‘I’ll be here the whole time. You’re going to see a memory. It will feel like you’re actually there, but nothing can happen to you. You’re safe.’

‘Okay,’ Amy said, though she felt scared.

‘Close your eyes.’

Amy knelt in front of him and as soon as she closed her eyes, shapes and colours merged to form a picture. The next moment she stood at the foot of a staircase, orange velvet flowers climbed the papered wall down one side but the colours all around her seemed dull, making Amy feel straight away that she’d landed in the past.

Before she could take in the surroundings of the tiny, old house, a woman with long blonde hair walked to her side and gazed up the stairs affectionately. As Amy followed her eyes she saw a younger, fresh faced and scar-free version of Mark. Even as a teenager, he was handsome.

‘Your godmother just phoned,’ the woman said excitedly, the sound muffled, like an old TV that had lost part of its volume. Amy could only just make out what she was saying. ‘She wants to come and see us this evening.’

Mark’s face lit up. ‘Thanks, Mum. I love Adaizi.’ His youthful voice was higher in pitch but, even through the muffled sound, it was still distinguishable to him.

The scene faded out and then back into a later time that day. Amy was now facing the front door. After a sharp knock, a man strolled out of the living room as if to answer it, but Mark ran out behind him, a haunted look in his eyes.

‘Don’t answer it, Dad!’ Mark yelled, stopping the man in his tracks. Mark was up to his father’s shoulders in height.

His father turned and gave a confused expression. ‘Why not, son?’

‘I don’t know,’ Mark said, looking troubled. His father gave a shake of his head and carried on. ‘I have a bad feeling,’ Mark added before he reached the door. Mark’s mother came from the living room, stood behind him and held his shoulders.

‘You and your bad feelings and nightmares! I’ve told you there’s nothing to worry about,’ she said lovingly.

‘Please,’ Mark begged.

‘Why?’ his dad repeated, looking puzzled as another loud rapping came.

‘It’s someone bad!’ Mark asserted, but after his father contemplated the statement, he smiled and opened the door. As the door opened, Amy’s blood ran cold.

There stood three bald men, two of whom she recognised from the alley the time she followed Luke, and standing in front of them was a younger male figure, a horrid-looking creature only just resembling human. It could only have been Ethan in his last life because the eyes—the hateful, black, oil-like eyes—were the same.

The darkness of his inner being seeped through the surface of his sallow, transparent skin. As he smiled, revelling in their gasps of horror, a sudden gust of wind, making all four of their long black cloaks billow, tore off rough shards of his thin skin. Mark’s father tried to close the door but with just a sideways, macabre look, the door flew back off its hinges and knocked Mark’s father to the ground.

‘No!’ Mark screamed, running to his father and making a shield of light to protect him as the Dogod and his men stepped inside.

As they entered, a dark, cold mist came in with them, climbing the walls and creating a haze of hatred, fear and pain. Mark’s mum ran out to help her husband but Mark held out his arm.

‘Get back, Mum.
Run
!’ Mark commanded but his mother was grounded to the spot with fear.

‘What have we here then,
Guardian
?’ said the Dogod in the same frightening voice Ethan used now. The sordid tone sent a cold shiver down Amy’s spine. ‘You’re not too good at guarding, though, are you?’ he sneered, baring his rotten teeth. The three men behind him laughed.

Mark’s father stood shakily and positioned himself in front of his wife and son. ‘Get out!’

‘Look at him, thinking he can protect his family.’ The Dogod laughed. ‘Bet the Squaddie doesn’t even remember he volunteered to be this vermin’s father. You haven’t a clue who your precious son is, do you, Daddy-kins?’ His voice grated on the ears of all who listened.

In the tense, still moment that followed, Amy could see the Dogod for the true beast he was. The blackness inside of him completely visible through his thin skin, was like looking at Ethan’s future. Then, after the beast wriggled furiously inside him, he stepped forward. It was only one step but it was a sure move. He had come for one thing and one thing only: to kill.

‘Don’t hurt my parents—hurt me instead!’ Mark screamed, his voice cracking as if ready to break out in tears. Mark thrust himself forward, his arms stretched out in front of him. With a determined, concentrated look on his face, his bright white shade projected out through his skin, lighting him up. As his parents jumped back in shock, Mark’s face couldn’t have been more pitiful.

With one clean sweep of his hand, the Dogod swiped Mark out of the way. ‘Don’t worry, this
will
hurt you.’ Mark flew into the living room and slid down the wall, where a dark, vaporous streak, burning and tearing into his cheek, caused the deep, vertical scar Amy had always known him to have.

As Mark writhed in pain, his white shade flashing in and out, Amy could tell he was trying to let down his guard. She could see him struggling with his power, trying to become a receptor for whatever the Dogod was about to induce; leaving him wide open to be killed.

Before Mark could get back, the Dogod’s three conspirators advanced on him, sending dark streams into his body via the long pendants worn around their necks. Mark fought against them with all his might, his light dispelling most, but they grabbed him and, while he continued to fight against their restraint, they sat his body up and turned his head to face the Dogod and his parents.

Mark’s beautiful mother was beside herself, trapped in the hall, screaming Mark’s name and clinging onto his father like she had no idea what was happening.

‘This is my revenge, Guardian!’ the Dogod spat to Mark. He turned back to Mark’s parents and began pointing from one parent to another singing: ‘Which one of you shall I kill first…’

‘Arrrh…’ Mark screamed.

The Dogod turned back, smiling as he watched his men struggle to hold Mark. ‘Shall it be the mother…or shall it be the father…?’

‘No!’ Mark shouted in intense agony and torture—just what the Dogod wanted. The men covered his mouth. As Amy looked from Mark’s enraged face back to the Dogod’s malicious eyes, she felt every inch of his pain.


No
?’ the Dogod said, turning his head as if confused. ‘You don’t like the song? I won’t bother with the rest of it, then!’ He turned and, with a squeezing hand gesture in mid-air, Mark’s mother gripped her neck in alarm. Her eyes bulged with pressure, her body convulsed.

Mark’s father quickly made to grab the Dogod, but as he moved, he threw out a dark blast and stopped him dead in his tracks. The Dogod then twisted his other hand towards Mark’s father and he dropped to his knees, his eyes wide with torture. As Mark screamed through the clutches of the men’s smothering hands, blood began to pour from his father’s nose, ears, eyes and mouth and he fell forward, landing hard and flat on his face where a pool of blood began to ooze outwards.

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