Darkened Passages: A Collection of Dark Fantasy

By Duane Gundrum

Ten dark fantasy/fiction short stories by Duane Gundrum, including:

Mapping the Silence of Dreams
Harris Palmer is the assistant director of security at a laboratory where scientists have succeeded in making contact with something in the dream sphere, or more specifically, accidentally brought something back. Having touched one of the darker places of the place where people dream, a sinister gunfighter and his sorceress bride have returned to our world, leaving the fate of the world up to a corporate security agent who never really liked his job in the first place.

Postcards From Hell
John Deacon is a con-artist, a thief and a rogue in every sense of the word. He is also known as the only man who has ever escaped from Hell. With Satan hot on his heels, John finds himself courted by a mysterious branch of the Brotherhood who have a simple request for him: Kill Satan and stop running forever.

The Dead of Night Hath Fury
A San Francisco cop has been dirty for so long now that he’s lost all sense of being good. In his years he’s stolen drugs, money and whatever else wasn’t nailed down. After crossing so many lines you shouldn’t ever cross, he’s even killed people who got in his way. And then he meets the right girl, who causes him to clean up his act and begin to atone for his wrongs. But something doesn’t want him on the right side and will do everything in its power to make sure he never succeeds.

You're Never Alone
Jason Dent has lived a long, yet difficult life. For years, he’s been the last man left on Earth, constantly seeking out any other survivors before accepting there was no one else left. As he nears his own final years of his life, he begins to suspect he’s not as alone as he’s always thought he was. Something else…is out there.

Voracious Vicissitudes
David Park is a special operations officer serving in Vietnam where he is constantly hunting for Charlie. Only the newest member of the platoon begins to suspect that Charlie is neither Viet Cong nor someone named Charlie. It’s something evil, and it may be as old as time itself.

Of Historical Significance
A research graduate student has discovered through historical documents that something evil has been documented throughout history but has constantly been missed by those whose job it is to discover it.

Horror Story
Darren Shuester is the newest member of a squad of light hunters who seek out the evils of those who live in the light and threaten the very existence of those who seek safety in the darkness.

Returning to the Flock
Frederick was bitten by a vampire matriarch and turned, but he has escaped her control and tries to forge a new life for himself, even though the urge to return to her claws at him each and every day. When he attempts to break her spell forever, he begins to understand just how deep the bond exists between them.

Fluffy and the Mystical World of Dead Burnt Bodies
Before the Apocalypse, all Fluffy cared about was Fluffy. After nuclear devastation, all Fluffy still cares about is Fluffy. Having lost her favorite set of brushes, Fluffy sets off on an epic journey across the dystopian landscape in search of a still-functioning fashion mall where she can put her life back to order.

The Shadow People
Every thousand years, a mysterious race of creatures known as the shadow people return to the planet to seek out a new victim. Two police detectives discover themselves coming up against the mystical beings, facing a horror with which they have never dealt before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Duane Gundrum
• Release date: Jun 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497729469

Duane Gundrum

Possibly the greatest translator to ever live, Duane Gundrum can speak 35 words of at least two different languages fluently. When sober, he can walk a straight line and not fall down once. Well, once, but he still thinks he was tripped. Always fascinated by the Greek Trojans, he wonders why they couldn't have gone with a different name instead of stealing USC's mascot for their own. He lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but don't tell anyone. You know that whole restraining order thing....

Book preview

About Darkened Passages

The book is a compilation of short stories and novellas produced by Duane Gundrum. The collection runs about 258 pages in book form and consists of 67,000 words.

Also by Duane Gundrum

NOVELS

INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUITY

LOSER

DESTINY

ABSENT WITHOUT LEAVE (AWOL)

DEADLY DECEPTIONS

THOMPSON’S BOUNTY: A SHIP OUT OF TIME

THE AMERIAD

NOVELLAS

BETWEEN A LAUGH AND A SCREAM

ALL ROADS LEAD TO PINE BUSH

MAPPING THE SILENCE OF DREAMS

THE SHADOW PEOPLE

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

DARKENED PASSAGES

POETRY

LICENSE TO QUILL

SHORT STORIES

BURIED MEMORIES

NONFICTION

NEO REVOLUTIONARY MESSAGES

DARKENED PASSAGES-TITLE PAGE

The character and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Text copyright © Duane Gundrum

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express permission of the copyright holder.

MAPPING THE SILENCE OF DREAMS

The kaleidoscope of multi-colored lights whipped about him as a white tunnel opened in his path.  Stars that weren't stars glittered all around him and then went silent, never to be felt again.

What do you see? said a voice that boomed from all around him, the kaleidoscope of colors changing shapes with each syllable that was spoken.

He made no attempt to answer, but continued forward, the walls of the tunnel becoming solid around him and then melting into stained lights, only to be recycled into masses of another form.

The tunnel before him opened up to reveal a small village, the first few wooden buildings presenting themselves to him as he cleared the tunnel, its entrance collapsing on itself as he stretched out to the openness of the small village.

Where are you, John? said that voice.  What do you see?

A village, he said.

What kind of village?  Have you seen it before?

He stared at the village and recognized nothing.  The buildings were silent, and the streets were void of any signs of life.  No, he had never been here before.

John, are you all right?

Yeah, he said.  I'm fine, but I've never been here before.  I'd know it if I had.

Be careful, John.  Don't take any unnecessary chances.

The town is deserted, said John.  There are no chances to take.

John assessed the town.  It was about the size of a California gold rush town, and it was about as busy as most of the abandoned ones.  However, this didn't stop John from moving forward to see if there was anything interesting left in town.

He walked down the first street.  Windows were boarded up, and doors were sealed over with wood nailed in X patterns.  Tumbleweeds rolled across the dirt road, crisscrossing the dirt path and then instantly changing direction when the wind chose another path around the wooden buildings blocking its way.

He walked down several streets, always finding sealed-off doors and windows. Expecting much of the same after so many similar streets, he turned the next corner and stopped dead in his tracks.  There's an open door on this street, said John.

Be careful.  You don't know what's in there.  Why don't you come back and we'll think this through where it's safe?

No way, said John.  This is what you sent me here for.  I'm not about to turn tail and run just when we've finally found what we might be looking for.

The voice emitted a sigh.  Just be careful.

You've got it, said John as he walked up to the doorway and entered the building.

The building he entered was an old-time western saloon, a bar on the far wall and tables placed sporadically throughout the dusty room.  As John moved deeper into the saloon, he realized there was someone sitting at one of the far tables nearest the bar.  The man was dressed in a black gunfighter outfit, from a 10-gallon black hat to snake-skin cowboy boots, and he was shuffling a deck of cards on the table before him.  Welcome, stranger, said the gunfighter.  What brings you to this corner of the world?

Where am I? said John as a chill rushed through his spine and then disappeared as quickly as it came.

You don't know? he said with a smile.  So, you haven't been here before?

John shook his head.  This is my first time.

Then welcome, he said.  Welcome to Jackson, the outer county of the Dark Lands.

The Dark Lands? said the voice.

Who is that? said the gunfighter as he stood up.  Who did you bring with you?

Get out of there, John.  This isn't what we were looking for.

Searchers? said the gunfighter, his eyes opening wide.  Here?

Get out, John.

John turned around to exit the saloon before he realized the door was now replaced with a solid wall.  There was no longer an exit to the saloon.

I'm trapped, said John.

Search for another exit, said the voice.  Just get out of there!

John looked around the room, but all he could focus on was the glaring stare of the gunfighter.  With a smile, the man sat back down and continued to shuffle his deck of cards.  There is no escape, John, he said.

Realizing the gunfighter was correct, John took a seat across the table from him.  What do you want from me?

Haven't you figured it out yet? he said.

John shook his head no.

Who sent you here, John? said the gunfighter.

John said nothing.

The gunfighter smiled again.  Come on, John.  I'm going to get this information from you one way or another.  Why don't you just make it easier on yourself?

Don't tell him, said the voice.

The gunfighter stood up and pointed his finger in the air toward the ceiling.  Don't you give orders here!  If you're not brave enough to come here yourself, you have no right to order those who are.  He turned back to John.  Now, friend, why don't you tell me who is on the other end of that voice?

Get out of there, John!

The gunfighter smiled at the ceiling.  It's not going to work that way.  John came here, and he's staying until I find out what I want to know.  He looked at John.  Well, John?

I don't know anything, said John, his eyes looking for a way out, for anything that could assist him but found nothing.

Are you going to force me to use stronger measures? said the gunfighter.

His eyes glared into John's.  I can be quite forceful when I want to be.  As he continued to stare, John began to feel heat in his own eyes, a heat that began to increase in intensity from the moment he began to feel it.  In only a couple of seconds, he began to feel that his eyes were going roast out of their sockets.  Stop! screamed John.

Who sent you here? said the gunfighter, maintaining the same heat, but not increasing it while he waited for a response.

Dr. Aziz, he said.  Dr. Aziz sent me in here.

The gunfighter's eyes stopped and then went soft, then focusing on the ceiling.  Outsiders?  Is that what you are?

Let him go, said the voice.  He has nothing you want.

A wide grin crossed the gunfighter's face.  On the contrary, my friend.  He has exactly what I want.  He stood up from the table.  Without saying a word, he began moving towards John.

John stared at him and looked for a place to run, but found none.  What do you want from me?

I just want to borrow you for a little while, said the gunfighter.

What? said John.

Just stand still, said the gunfighter as he moved closer to John, moving with his prey as John backed up against the far wall.  I promise this won't hurt a single bit.

He reached a hand out to John, placing it on the man's forehead.  As he did, flames exploded from his hand into the skull of the trapped man.

It won't hurt a bit, he said as John's head exploded, cutting off his consciousness.

The gunfighter stared at the remains of John's exploded head.  Okay, a little.

Dr. Victor Aziz stared at the beta wave display pattern and couldn't believe what he was seeing.  At one point, the patient in the monitoring room was experiencing REM flashbacks, but then there was nothing.  The EKG monitor connected to the young man on the monitoring bed went erratic for a moment and then registered a straight line.  As Dr. Aziz fiddled with the door knob to get into the laboratory's sterile environment, he heard the sound of the EKG as it kicked back into life.  For the moment, he couldn't believe what had happened.  People didn't die and then come right back to life as if nothing had happened.

Having spent years of research on human subjects, always monitored by representatives of the government, he knew when there was something wrong with an EKG.  Each one had its own intricacies.  No two were ever alike.  Yet, it took him a couple of seconds to realize there was something wrong here.

John had been a perfect subject for the experiment.  He fell into the guidelines of the dream research program: perfect health, excellent mind scores, and everything else that a scientist dreams of in a candidate.  Yet, something had gone wrong.

Having monitored John for several weeks of dream experimentation, Dr. Aziz knew the steady beep, beep, beep-beep, beep rhythm that his heart put out.  However, the EKG was now reading something completely different.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

No, that was not the usual pulse rate for John.  Yet, that was John in the monitoring room.

He opened the door and stepped up to John, shaking him awake while pulling the wires from John's head.  John, wake up!  Are you all right?

John opened his eyes and smiled.  Who's John, Doc?

Dr. Aziz stared at the man who was supposed to be John before he realized that something had gone wrong.  This was not John.

Thanks for the train ticket home, Doc! said the man as he sat up from the bed and took a quick look around the monitoring room.  What the hell kind of place is this?

Dr. Aziz stood back from the man.  Where is John?

The man smiled, but made no attempt to answer.  Where the hell am I?

Where is John? said Dr. Aziz, a little louder this time.

He's back at the bar, said the man.  The smile turned to a cackling laugh.  I don't think he's coming back.

Dr. Aziz rushed forward and grabbed the body that had belonged to John.  You bastard!  What did you do with John?

I made him go bye-bye, he said, laughing at his own remark.  Taking a deep breath, he stood up and turned to face Dr. Aziz.  Yes, this body will do just fine.

I can't let you leave, said Dr. Aziz.  You do not belong here.

The man laughed as he stepped in front of the doctor.  Look, old man, I'm not asking you for your permission.  You gave me the ticket here, but that doesn't mean I'm going to accept the return trip.

Dr. Aziz thought quickly before he rushed at the man.  You have to go back and send John home.  He doesn't belong where he is.

He does now, said the man before he reached out and grabbed Dr. Aziz, picking him up by his waist and tossing him across the room like a small child.  You don’t want to get on my bad side.

Dr. Aziz hit the far wall and slid down it to the floor, knocking a hospital bed over as he did.  Slowly, he stood back up.  What are you?

The man who used to be John simulated that he was drawing a gun from an imaginary holster.  He pointed his index finger at Dr. Aziz, pretending to shoot the doctor.  I'm the gunfighter.  Didn't you know that?

Dr. Aziz took a deep breath and then rushed at the gunfighter.  Before he could reach him, the gunfighter raised his right hand up in front of him, palm forward. Then a red light ripped from the hand, whipping across the lab and then connected with Dr. Aziz.  The light ripped into Dr. Aziz's chest and then exploded.  The doctor fell to the floor and didn't move again.

Very good, my friend, said the gunfighter.  I think I'm going to like this place.  He pointed his hand at the monitoring room's steel wall and sent a bolt of flame at it.  A second later, he was staring out at the parking lot of the medical research institution.  Strange vegetation in this place, said the gunfighter as he walked onto the asphalt.  Dropping down to his knees, he touched the asphalt with his index finger and then brought the finger to his tongue.  How does anything grow in this? he said to no one in particular as he continued across the parking lot and disappeared into a crowd that was wandering near one of the local shopping malls.

Dr. Heinrich Fenster was the first person on the scene.  Throwing open the lab door, he glanced around quickly, only moving in when he was convinced that there was no danger to himself and the rest of the complex.  The far wall had been breached, but the outer security wall had dropped down once the oxygen levels had discovered a destabilization in that sector.

Crossing the room, he took a look at the security wall that had slid down from its roof housing.  For the entire wall to come down, it was obvious that a large explosion had taken place.  With such an explosion, one would expect massive destruction to the laboratory itself, but that was not the case here.  The lab was generally intact, the wall being the only casualty.  That meant that the wall had been attacked by some type of weapon that was both intense and concentrated.  Dr. Fenster couldn't wait to take a look at the lab's observation tape that should have filmed whatever happened.

He then checked the lab's observation room, where he finally saw the body of Dr. Aziz.  He went to take the man’s pulse before spotting his chest, noting immediately that most of Dr. Aziz’s chest was missing. Dropping the man's wrist, he walked over to the EKG machine.

What happened here? said a voice from the door.  He turned around to see Harris Palmer, the assistant director of security.  There were security officers in brown uniforms at his side.

Get those men out of here! said Fenster.

Palmer stared at him for a second, then at the lab, and then back at Fenster again.  He motioned to his security officers.  Secure the outside corridor.  No one is to enter without my permission.

Yes, sir, said one of the officers as he and two of his partners stepped back into the corridor.

Palmer shut the door and pulled down the blind screen.  Dr. Fenster, what's going on here?

Fenster waved his hand to gesture at the entire room.  We've had a breach in the dream research department.

A break-in? said Palmer, still not sure what Fenster was talking about.

Fenster shook his head no.  Dr. Aziz was working on the uncharted areas of the dream sphere.

You've lost me, Doctor, said Palmer.  I'm a people man.  I find problems and eliminate them.  This dream stuff is your department.  Did someone break in or did someone break out.  That wall doesn't shut in the system unless there is a breach.

Fenster turned back to the EKG machine.  Dr. Aziz has two hearts on this EKG readout.  He snatched the tape from the EEG machine.  There are two brain wave patterns on this one.  I think he brought someone back with him from the dream sphere.  He smiled.  Damn, he always claimed it was possible to tap the hidden areas, but I never dreamed he would.

What are you talking about? said Palmer.  He was beginning to regret his decision to leave his men outside.  Fenster wasn't making any sense.  Come to think of it, didn't Fenster's profile register on the risky side?

The dream sphere, said Fenster.  Whenever you go to sleep, your mind goes to a special place where you dream.

A special place?

Fenster continued.  Each dream is confined to a certain location in the sphere.  This institute was created to breach those confinements.  I think Dr. Aziz breached that wall and accidently brought something out with him.

Palmer shook his head.  Are you trying to tell me that some kind of dream monster blew out this wall?

Not exactly, said Fenster.  I think that something was brought back through the dream sphere into our reality.  The man Dr. Aziz was using was a prime candidate for breaching the walls of confinement.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to report this, said Palmer.  This is too weird for me.

No! said Fenster.  We have a problem here.  We can't exactly report it and hope to keep this institution alive.

What the hell are you talking about?

Don't you realize what has happened? said Fenster.  We've found another dimension in the dream sphere.  This is an area that makes us able to communicate with other people who are dreaming.  There is another world out there waiting for us to explore.  Do you want this kind of information to get out.  The repercussions would be horrible.

We can't not report this, said Palmer.  I don't know how much I buy your dream breach story, but this complex was hit by something.  As a recipient of government funding, we are required to report anything out of the ordinary.

We can't report this until we find out what came out of that dream session, said Fenster.  God knows what's out there.

That's why we can't avoid reporting it, said Palmer.  If what you're saying is true, we might not be able to handle whatever it is that's out there.  Hell, the thing just blew out a concrete wall.  Can you do that?

Fenster ignored him.  Why don't we see if the film can show us what happened here.

Film? said Palmer.

Of course.  Do you think we go into any of these sessions without filming what happens?

Palmer shook his head no.  I'm sorry, sir, but I can't allow that.  Regulations require me to contact higher authorities.

But you don't know what that might mean, said Fenster.

Palmer removed his revolver and kept it tight in his hands.  Sir, we will be closing down this department until government agents arrive.  Until then, I advise you to leave this area.

But—

He pointed the revolver at the scientist.  Regulations are quite specific, even if the circumstances are not.  Please do not make me use force.

Fenster nodded and walked towards the door.  He knew better than to face down a security executive who was carrying a loaded revolver.  Plus, he'd heard stories about Palmer and the fact that Palmer was a martial arts expert; even if the man didn't have a gun, he knew better than to face him down.  He was a seeker of the truth, but he wasn't stupid.

The gunfighter had never seen anything like it before.  Living in western towns, fighting whatever creature was stupid enough to come up against him, he never came face to face with a shopping center.  Now that he had, he didn't know why he hadn't looked for one before.

There were people everywhere.  Thousands of them.

There were stores that offered everything.  For a simple piece of green paper, storekeepers were willing to part with anything, and they smiled when they gave away the items.  The gunfighter couldn't believe it.

Can I help you with something? said a voice from behind the gunfighter.  He whirled around to see a bald man in blue clothing, some type of uniform with a badge.  A badge?

Are you the sheriff here? said the gunfighter.

The man smiled.  "I wouldn't go that far.  I am