Johnny Wraith Stories

“Why would I crush your bones to dust?” I blurted. It seemed to me Adam should be sending me on a quest to get his flesh back, not turn what little was left of him into powder.

“Johnny, I thought you’d learned to seek questions, not answers? Don’t disappoint me after you’ve come so far.”

Yeah. He was right. Don’t ask “Why?” Just go with it. Swim with the currents, as Vatsulu had taught me. As the red-haired mermaid had shown me, sometimes you just have to grab tight and hold on. Don’t worry about seeing or anticipating what’s ahead. That way you have less fear of what’s to come and can go deeper. You can go farther into the mystery.

“I don’t have anything else to ask,” I resolved, sat down before Adam, and waited for his question.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”  

“Embrace every burden,” the bony, lower jaw flapped. “Every step is precious because you only have so many to take,” arose the dust. “Of every 10,000 steps you take, only 1 one of them will put your foot on something, and you’ll only be able to stand there for a moment before having to continue along. In that 10,000^th place, you’ll leave a footprint, but the wind and rain will come quickly to wash out and blow away the proof you were once there. When you take that 10,000^th step, leave more than a footprint. Cut off and abandon a part of your body at that place. Make it a stone pillar impervious to wind and rain, unlike a mere impression in loose sand.”

Light filled the room, as did intense heat. I shaded my eyes, stood, and turned around. A portal had appeared behind me, and through it I could see a vast desert of nothing but sand dunes and scorching sun all the way to the horizon.

“Get going before it closes up!” insisted Adam.

I clinched my teeth, bore down on the fear in my gut, and took a daring leap.

The portal disappeared behind me as I landed ankle deep in the sand. My soles began to burn, as did the skin on my shoulders. My mouth dried up and my eyes started stinging. I’d been in desert heat before, but this place was much hotter. So this is Hell? Every breath scorched my lungs with fire and grit. I became dizzy and began stumbling around. Sand-filled wind came and lashed my body about. It blinded and choked me until I was helpless, until all my strength was sapped. I lost balance, collapsed, and fell face first into a dune. As I lay there losing consciousness, I felt the flesh on my back drying up, cracking, peeling away, joining the wind and grit. It hurt like hell, and maybe it was Hell, but what could I do? It was either a test or it was the end.

I thought for sure it was the end when I felt something stab deep into my neck. I expected blood to spill out, but instead, I felt something cool and soothing rushing into my body and veins. The heat and the elements became less intense, and the wind quit stripping the flesh from my bones. It seemed I was being re-inflated with flesh after nearly becoming mummified, or turned into a skeleton like Adam. Whatever was being pumped into me through my neck flowed through and filled all my sinews and bones, restored not only my lifeblood, but also my muscles and skin. Suddenly, my strength and consciousness returned, allowing me to climb to my feet with ease. I realized I had been changed. Did I feel stronger? Smarter? The bright light no longer blinded me, and the wind and the heat were now bearable. However, one thing was of major concern. Something heavy was clinging to my shoulder. Something had stabbed into my neck and was still there, on me. I turned my head and found myself face-to-face with a black scorpion the size of a large cat. Its polished eyes glinted, as did its carapace, and its sharp feet were burrowed into my shoulder, neck, and arm. The tail disappeared behind me and I surmised it was its sharp end that was plunged into my neck.

Somehow, I felt no fear. I knew I had to walk. I had to carry the scorpion with me. Don’t ask why. Go with the currents. Start taking steps. Count your steps. That’s it! So I began to count.

1, 2, 3…

50…

200…

Here and there, my skepticism stopped me and I just stood there. Whenever I did so, I’d turn and look at the scorpion and it became heavier. The glinting, black eyes began to frighten me, and my flesh once again began burning in the wind, sun, and sand. My legs became weaker. Only by continuing to walk, counting my steps, did I lose all fear. Only then did the scorpion’s nectar flow freely through my veins, heal me, and protect my body from the elements.

I kept counting, 330, 331, 332…

And counting, 2000, 3000, 4000…

As I continued counting, I pondered the absurd rhythm of walking. I was going somewhere, and didn’t know where. It didn’t matter. I was moving, going, being. There was something to the simple rhythm of walking, traversing the desert, the action of it, my bearing of the scorpion. There was meaning in it all, but I could only feel it, not describe it, have faith in it, and not question it. To ask of it, “Why?” was to find its visceral essence dissipating. Only my savage intuition could be its successful captor, and all other devices of mind and logic set it free by attempting to bind it.

9998, 9999, 10,000…

10,001, 10,002, 10,003…

It wasn’t how many steps I took that mattered, I realized. So I kept walking. The sun sat and rose, and the sun sat and rose again. And I continued walking. Perhaps the days and nights came 10,000 times, but it didn’t matter. The scorpion became a part of me, much like an arm or a leg. The trance and rhythm of the walking was all I needed, and with it I was complete. Infinite time could pass without worry. Only when I came to know these truths as if they were a part of my being, the ziggurat appeared on the horizon. It was a great monument of stone pillars and stairs reaching upward into the heavens. At the top of it stood a 100’+ tall bronze deity adorned with gold. It had a scorpion tail and several arms, 2 across its chest, the other 6 akimbo. Its androgynous, smooth face shone kindly. Only its chin moved. It moved slowly downward, allowing its large, black, glinting eyes to watch me as I climbed the sandstone stairs.

I prostrated myself at the great god’s feet.

I did not pray, but listened. I knew not to ask a question, but to wait. The sun sat, the night passed, and the sun rose at dawn, 

“Become a pillar,” whispered a soft, feminine voice from above me.

I stood, bowed before the great, bronze god, and looked up at Her. She slowly opened her embracing arms and hands to reveal Her breasts. She smiled down upon me. I bowed again, turned away, and descended the stairs of Her platform.

I searched the ziggurat until finding a missing column. I stepped into that 10,000^th place, folded my arms, looked out across the desert, and smiled.

My flesh grew tall and turned to stone.

I became a pillar.