Chapter 10 - BRIMWALL
The floorboards cracked and young Ian Fletcher Brimwall fell into the darkened space beneath his family’s manor. His light body barely made a thud as it hit the dusty floor of the long abandoned cellar.
“Ian! Are you alright?!” he heard his brother ask above.
Brimwall coughed as he got up and peered into the darkness.
“Yeah…I’m alright…just a little…winded…” he replied.
“The basement is locked.” his brother commented with worry in his voice.
“I know.” said Ian.
“Nana said we don’t use it because it’s haunted.”
“I know.”
“I’m gonna get father.” said his brother as he ran away, leaving Ian alone in the darkness.
There he stood for what seemed like forever until he heard movement.
At first his hair stood on end and his heart skipped a beat but when he saw an old chair move to the side, on its own, panic gripped him.
The young, seven year old, Ian Fletcher Brimwall stumbled backwards and fell. He crawled back until he met the wall and there was nowhere to go. His hands covered his eyes and he cowered in fear, awaiting whatever horrible fate would soon meet him. Up until now he hadn’t even believed that ghosts were real and now one would spell his doom.
He heard a light metal clatter and after a moment of silence he dared to open his eyes, finding an old key on the floor in front of him.
In frantic fear he got up, snatched the key and ran up the stairs, unlocked the door and sprinted into the mansion proper, crying.
The floor was boarded up and the cellar was locked off again. But the experience had never left Ian. What was that thing down there and why hadn’t it hurt him?
After much pleading he was allowed to read his father’s books on folklore in hopes of finding something about ghosts in it. But he ended up finding so much more. Tales of magic and warlocks. Stories of witch burnings and purges. And accounts of an older, more magical world that had been lost to mankind because of their actions.
Consequences.
He read of the hilderfolk, of goblins and kobolds, of creatures made of magic who had been all but driven from the world. Spirits made manifest who often served as house deities in the days of old.
Could it be, he thought to himself.
Weeks later, after more research and steeled nerves, he finally stole the key to the cellar and ventured down again. There he sat for hours, calling out to the fantastical in hushed whispers so none but the immediate would hear.
“Are you there?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”
Only silence answered.
“You saved me a couple of months ago, when I fell through the ceiling. I thought you were a ghost at first…but now I think you’re an old forgotten house spirit.”
No reply was offered.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know that you’re real.”
There he sat, in silence and in darkness, for a couple of hours. Soon his eyes had adjusted to the dark and he began regarding the various stored furniture. Like a quiet mausoleum for household objects.
Eventually he noticed something hidden up on one of the rafters.
Ian took one of the chairs, placed it beneath and climbed on top of a bookshelf to reach the stashed trinket. But as his hands touched it the bookcase tilted and for a moment he feared it would tumble and crush his frail body. But then it stopped, half leaned and stable.
Ian climbed down, holding the trinket in one hand. As his feet touched the floor the bookcase righted itself off, as if handled by some invisible figure. The little boy smiled, his eyes searching for any kind of movement.
“You ARE real. I knew it!”
He then regarded the object in his hand and found a small wood carved effigy of a small goblinoid creature. The sculpture was crude but the boy figured it was probably what had originally created this obscure house spirit.
“This is your heart, isn’t it?”
Again, silence was his only reply.
Ian cradled it lovingly. “I will guard it with my life and I will bring you trinkets and treats. This house needs its spirit again.
Three years later his father found the effigy hidden in his room and broke it, scolding the boy for hoarding occult artifacts. The little invisible house spirit never made its presence known after that. At ten years old, Ian was old enough to understand that the destruction of the effigy had killed the spirit.
Consequences.
This only fueled his interest in the occult and during his academic career he pursued any and all historical tomes he could get his hands on. When he was admitted into the Imperial Academy of Science, Ian Fletcher Brimwall quickly became a brilliant surgeon and geneticist but his true passion was always rooted in what lay beyond the veil. And over time, his accumulation of arcane knowledge made him quite notorious in certain circles.
Consequences.
Until one day he was approached by a dear friend from the Alchemical Society.
“Dr Steiner has failed in his experimentations and has been cast out of the Society.”
“That’s a dreadful shame.” said Dr Brimwall.
“We’re currently looking for a new leader for the project.”
“And you’ve come to me for recommendations?”
“Actually, Dr Brimwall, I’ve come to offer you the job.”
Ian was surprised. He had half expected an academic pariah like him would never be considered, given the heavy religious proclivities of certain Society members. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Your methods are unorthodox but your pedigree and academic achievements speak for themselves. And after years of stagnation, the Society is willing to indulge unorthodox methods if they yield results. Plus, the Church has been in a slow decline ever since The Great Betrayal. People are finally looking to science for answers. So…are you interested?”
He found it funny. When he had been seven years old he had been goofing off with his brother and accidentally broke through the floorboards of his home. And somehow that had slowly but surely led him…here.
“Brimwall.” Alba repeated. “You’re Doctor Brimwall. You’re the one behind all of this.”
Brimwall sighed and looked up as if to peer through the walls of brick and concrete to behold the destruction of the Fellhaven Royal Hospital.
“Indeed. This entire foolish endeavor was orchestrated, mostly, by yours truly.”
“Why?” asked Abla, genuinely curious.
Dr Brimwall sat back in his chair and looked upon the pale girl for a moment.
“Have you ever heard of the hilderfolk?”
Alba gently shook her head.
“I’m not surprised. Most people have all but forgotten about them. In ages past they were these gentle spirits. Beings made of magic who often protected homes or wandered around causing light mischief. But during the late fourteen-hundreds the Church of the Trinity declared that magic and all arcane beings were considered a blight upon the world. And so they purged them. Burned them at the stake. It was a war and we won. We human beings drove wonder and magic out of our world so that we could better control it.
“But we lost much in the process. There are a few surviving accounts that speak of other worlds and people who were able to travel freely between them. Hell, there are even obscure historical accounts that tell of us coming to this world by ship. There are entire realms out there of magic and knowledge…and resources.”
“And you wanted to find them?” asked Alba.
Brimwall nodded. “Ever since I was a child I was obsessed with finding where the hilder came from. I dreamed of living among them. Of learning their ways and teaching them ours. But, alas, without magic such travel is impossible. So I was challenged with the impossible task of bringing back magic. Of creating some sort of passageway between worlds.”
The elderly doctor looked at Alba’s disbelieving expression.
“Oh, I know. It sounds like fantasy but it is very much real. My colleagues and those who sponsor us are far more interested in mining otherworldly resources. But not me. I just want to find the hilder. I just want to explore their world and learn as much as possible, before I die.”
His statement hung in the air for a moment before Alba replied.
“And did you?”
Brimwall smiled.
“Not exactly, no. But we learned far more than we ever imagined.
“We first came across tales of a girl with magical abilities out in the countryside and upon interviewing her we learned that during a traumatic event in her childhood she somehow managed to push her way out of this reality and into another. But in crossing over her body was changed, becoming a conduit for arcane energy. She only needed blood to access it.”
“Oh gods.” said Alba. “She was a warling.”
Brimwall nodded. “Indeed. There have been stories of others like her before that but she was the first one we found. She was the beginning. So we drafted her into the program and she became Subject Zero. Through her we learned so much more about the arcane and the veil that separates the different worlds. And after years of training and conditioning she was finally able to open a rift. A doorway to another plane of existence.”
“Where did it lead you?”
“Not to the world of the hilder.” Brimwall said sadly. “This rift, as we later learned, only led to a single realm. An abyssal realm of void and darkness. At first we thought it was simply a sort of in-between plane that resided between worlds. But our current hypothesis is that it’s something else entirely.
“We called it The Beyond. And it is a nightmare realm.”
Brimwall got up from his chair, grabbed the table which Alba rested upon and gently spun it around. Alba could now see the back end of the subterranean space which had been barricaded with metal walls and reinforced windows. A heavily locked door rested at its center and past that she saw a strange sight.
On the other side were numerous cupboards and cabinets, resting up against a brick wall, that had probably once been used to contain a number of medical tools. But in front of them she saw a dark, almond shaped hole that moved and swayed as if moved by some non existent wind. It almost made the backdrop look like it was painted on fabric that had been ripped, revealing darkness behind it. But now she noticed the strange black and red growth that had spidered out from the tear like a network of roots.
“The first few people we sent in there never returned and when one ultimately did they had been changed as well. They too began manifesting strange abilities, activated through the sacrifice of blood.”
Alba stared at the aberrant opening in terror, tears welling up in her eyes at the realization.
“That’s how you made us. That’s how you make warlings.”
Brimwall nodded. “Yes, that is correct. The first warlings were then sent in to retrieve the bodies of those who had perished. But their bodies had been deformed and warped beyond recognition. We quickly discovered that about eight percent of those we sent in there returned as warlings so we began sending in more and more subjects.”
“Why?” asked Alba, tears streaking her marble cheeks.
“Well, our original hypothesis was that if warlings could open up rifts to The Beyond, maybe a strong enough warling could open up rifts to other worlds. And so we needed more warlings. We put out notifications, offering free room and board so that we’d have plenty of volunteers. Many died, sadly, but quite a few came back, successfully transformed. Those who showed potential were sent in multiple times to try and cultivate a greater mutation. We also noticed strange mutations manifesting with twins, which is why you and your sister were among the ones sent in repeatedly.”
“We went in…repeatedly? You sent us in there more than once?” Alba asked in quiet, subdued indignation.
“Absolutely. For with each visit you manifested greater changes and abilities.” said Brimwall, still keeping his sights upon the rift.
A strange thrum pulsed from the rift, pushing harmlessly through everything in its vicinity. Alba winced but Brimwall seemed physically nauseous when it happened.
“What’s in there?” Alba asked, unable to take her eyes off the rift.
“We don’t entirely know. The first people we sent in there reported nothing but an empty void. But as we continued to send people in the void began to take shape. We assume that it’s somehow reacting to our presence in it and manifesting elements from us.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well, because some returning subjects reported seeing spectral shapes that looked like places from their childhood. At least, those who didn’t return raving like lunatics. There’s an old saying that goes, ‘when you look long enough into the abyss, the abyss looks back’. I believe that since there is nothing in there The Beyond is filling itself with only what we bring with us. Perhaps that’s why it is manifesting spectral locations based on people’s memories and maybe that’s why these fleshy root-like structures have begun to spider forth from it.”
Alba turned to look at him with disgust in her eyes but Brimwall didn’t notice. His attention was on the rift.
“Anyway, soon after that we began detecting a strange signal that was being picked up around the hospital. As if the rift was emitting it. And soon patients and staff began drawing strange symbols and patterns. It was then that it occurred to me. The void was trying to communicate with us. It’s trying to show us something. So we took a closer look at those patterns and found a code hidden within them.”
“A code for what?” asked Alba, still staring furiously at Brimwall.
“Ha, that’s the most fascinating part. It’s an obelisk. We call it the World Nail. If we’re right about this it’s a device that we can use to open pathways into other worlds at will. If only we had managed to figure out how it worked. I figured the warlings were the key to operating it but so far none have been powerful enough to activate it. It’s quite frustrating.”
A momentary silence fell upon the room.
“And how many people had to die for this discovery?” asked Alba.
Brimwall looked at her, now finally noticing her pained expression. He sighed and sat back down.
“I know. It saddens me too. The sacrifices plague me every day. There’s not a moment that goes by where I don’t think about the people that we’ve lost in this endeavor. So many who will never see the fruits of our labor. I sometimes wake up with tears in my eyes, it weighs on me so.”
The older doctor reached out and held Abla’s hand.
“You have to understand that I didn’t want any of this. I’m so sorry you had to go through this. Can you ever forgive me?”
Alba stared at Brimwall for a long time without speaking. But soon her blank expression grew very grave.
“No.”
“No?”
“Did I fucking stutter? NO.”
Dr Brimwall sat up and looked quite perplexed.
“I don’t understand. I said I was sorry. I begged you for your forgiveness. Why can’t you understand how much this weighs on me?”
Alba’s face darkened.
“Oh, are you sad? Do all the horrible things you did make you sad?! How many people have you killed because of this? Dozens? Hundreds? How many people did you kill, Brimwall?”
“I-I-I said I was sorry.”
Alba sat up on her table to give him a proper death stare.
“You still fucking did it! You still turned us into monsters and ruined our lives! You sent us to our death just so you could play around with elves?! How is that any kind of justification?!?!”
“No, you don’t understand…”
“I understand just fine, Doctor. I understand that you’re value of human life is so fucked that you thought you could justify murdering us all for your sick experiments! I understand that you’ve convinced yourself that you had noble intentions and that that should somehow excuse what you did! And now you have the gall to tell me you’re sorry and expect me to feel sorry for you?!?!”
The older doctor got up and backed up until he bumped into Nikolai’s table. The unconscious boy mumbled and his eyelids fluttered.
“But I’m a man of singular focus! I am bending realities and advancing scientific progress! I am making important discoveries!”
“That does not excuse what you did, you stupid, idiotic man.” Alba retorted calmly.
“But…but I explained why…”
“Understanding justifies nothing. You sent us to our deaths. You forced us to undergo horrific changes. You robbed us of our humanity. You turned us into monsters just so that you could open doorways to other worlds. Only so that your noble friends can invade and steal more resources for yourselves. Oh but you just wanted to find goblins and kobolds so clearly you’re excused.”
Brimwall looked at her with fear and panic in his eyes, stammering and fumbling over his words.
“You’re the monster here, and you can’t even see it.” Alba added defiantly.
The older man suddenly reached to a small table off to the side and before she knew what had happened he had brought a scalpel up to her throat. There were tears in his eyes and his jaw was clenched. He had the look of a cornered animal, ready to defend itself by any means.
“You don’t understand! We did all of this for the greater good! It was the only way to pierce the veil! And if it required a few low born lives then so be it!” the good doctor spat out.
Alba didn’t even flinch. Her nightmarish carmine eyes remained fixed on him. “And there it is, the kind mask is dropped to reveal who you really are.”
She saw Brimwall’s muscles flex as if he was about to plunge the scalpel into her throat, but he hesitated. Sweat trickled down his forehead as his eyes darted around. Suddenly, there was movement off to their side and in a blur Nikolai ha d pushed himself off of his table, got to his feet and caught Brimwall’s feeble hand in a tight grip.
The doctor stared fearfully at the boy, realizing he was no match for the warling's strength.
“No…please…” he whimpered.
Nikolai looked at Alba. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.”
Alba turned her crimson gaze back towards Brimwall.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
