The Watchers

The Watchers

Short Stories To Keep My Sanity

“It's cold in my head.” He said, eyes closed. He didn't move. He just laid there breathing. The girl sitting on the stool by the corner turned to him.

“Well, that's progress, ain't it?” She blinked, “Like, for you? 'Cause you know, you haven't felt anything since you entered The Gardens of The Moon, yeah?” The boy didn't stir. He remained silent for some time.

She looked away from him. The Gardens of The Moon were famous for being impenetrable. It had been scores of years since someone infiltrated them. But to have The Gardens open up for you? That was unheard of.

But this boy, she thought, this boy entered The Gardens in welcome. There's something special about him. Who knows what he saw. And he won't speak about it either. He barely just began to feel the signals in his head. She couldn't tell The Watchers. At least not yet. Because if she did, they would take him away from her.

She had to find out what he saw. For herself. Because in her own twisted way, she loved this boy. And she was jealous of him too. Jealous of him entering The Gardens where she herself had only entered them in her dreams- in theory. What was it about this boy that The Gardens opened their gates to show him their perpetual secrets.

Deep inside she knew. Because she knew this boy well. She knew why The Gardens allowed him in. And she loved him even more for that. But she hated him because she wanted what he had. And maybe, just maybe, he could take her with him. That's why she couldn't tell The Watchers.

He stirred again. She turned to him. It was difficult to see the most of him with these dim, buzzing lights. He laid there, in the dehydrated mattress. Was he cold? No. He said only in his head.

“It's cold in my head.” He said again. She couldn't take off her shades or The Watchers would know what she was thinking.
“What do you mean?” She knew what he meant. But maybe he would speak of The Gardens. She knew The Watchers were watching. They however, didn't know what he was saying. For he spoke through the channels of The Witness. Channels that the fallen race had discovered a while back. The channels of the mind.

“This bitter cold, pervades the inner workings of my mind.” He said. She stood abruptly. She shouldn't have. This signaled to The Watchers that she knew something. But what he said was means for alarm. He was talking about The Gardens. Was it the fabled Winter Fortress? That he was speaking of?

She had to know, but how? They were coming. She heard the waves in the signal. They were close. But all she could think of was the Winter Fortress. A Fortress where one, long ago, empty purposeless souls wandered for lack of their fleshly home.

She ran and kneeled next to him. “Just tell me one thing, my love, was it the Winter Fortress?”

He opened his eyes and turned to her. Fear. The his eyes disappeared, intruding was a milky whiteness. This happened before.

They were here. The Watchers. And they sought answers to their eternal questions. Questions of the frivolous kind.

She turned and she saw them-with their orange shades and bald, powdery heads. Then the world went dark. Darkness. Time to lie....