Journey to the Mythological Realm

By David Santana

Journey to the Mythological Realm depicts a non-typical aggressive scientist whose wife is lost while vacationing in Puerto Rico. During a scuba diving expedition, his wife falls through a dimensional door and disappears. The undying love he feels for his wife Caren and his determination to find her allows the dimensional door to reopen.

The scientist enters a world of unconquered territories inhabited by aliens, monsters, and defending themselves from pure instinct driven creatures, which best can be described to be demonic in nature. With his anger driven psyche, the battles are forced to begin. A world enduring a 1000-year punishment of an advanced race, unicorns, small energy creatures, brief time traveling, heartbreak, and a simple raw driven romance for his lost love drives the story from the beginning to the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 19, 2003
• ISBN: 9781469724393

David Santana

Living in the hot humid state of Texas this has always kept David Santana in air-conditioned rooms, reading stories of unicorns, space aliens and travel to other planets and dimensions. David has always fantasized of creating his own living fantasies through print. In the past he has written short stories and even has written extensive poetry to lost loves.

Book preview

Contents

CHAPTER 1

The Lost Ship

CHAPTER 2

Frighten Reality

CHAPTER 3

The Unknown Truth

CHAPTER 4

The Forbidden Door

CHAPTER 5

Forest of Fear

CHAPTER 6

Forgotten City

CHAPTER 7

Out of Time

CHAPTER 8

The Cross Over

CHAPTER 9

The Mystic Beyond

CHAPTER 10

The Forbidden Forest

CHAPTER 11

The Final Journey

CHAPTER 1  

The Lost Ship  

Standing on the bow of my old sailboat I stare off into the distance horizon where the sun is barely making its presence’s known. My son-in-law still sleeps below after being involved with one of my wine drinking nights. I turned the evening into a bonding situation, but it was the only way I could get any sleep.

Ten nautical miles due north of here I stare into the distant horizon. A place in my memories I wish I could forget. It is the sight where five years ago my wife while scuba diving disappeared into a dimensional doorway.

God is she still alive, and if so how can I get to her? I said to my self as I pondered the ideal of her still being alive.

Taking this trip with my son-in-law was my daughter’s ideal. I’m not exactly the warmest person, and I get the feeling that I drive people away. Why in the world would I pick this spot to try to bound with John. Maybe I was hoping for a clue, or a way to find her, and using John as an excuse to come back here.

John you need to get up. I yelled. There seems to be a large sail boat headed this way.

The distant horizon showed the faint shadow of a mighty ship, its glorious sails long gone, possibly by the wrath of passing storms. The crew undoubtedly rested silently on the ocean floor, dreams and hopes long forgotten. Others replaced lost loves. Generations of children and grandchildren, having no knowledge of lost relatives. The ship had sailed in darkness for over a hundred years. Unnoticed by humanity. Untouched by time and technology. What was the unforeseen cruel fate of its once proud crew? What was their quest? Where had this ship been hidden, and why had it suddenly appeared?

Who would have thought that a simple sailing trip to Nassau would be the start of a fascinating day for John and me? As John tied our sailboat to the stern of the old ship, I boarded it. Its boards creaked below my feet. The wood appeared old and worn, but curiously clean. Looking toward the outside bow, it would appear that the barnacles appeared fresh, old barnacles removed. The mast resembled a once mighty redwood tree whose 4000-year reign had ended, and its old tired body had given way to its weight. But even it appeared to be clean. Was someone trying to restore this old craft? I called out to any possible occupant still on board. The only response was a passing seagull and the warm salt air working its way through the old bones of this ancient girl.

Walking toward what appeared to be the captain’s quarters, a loud voice from behind me broke my concentration.

Dad!

I turned, seeing my young cohort at arms rushing towards me. Haphazardly, he jumped on deck and continued on his downward quest to the bottom deck. Mid-stride, he suddenly disappeared, amid sounds of crashing and breaking boards. I immediately rushed to him, and slowly approached a newly formed hole in the floor. The hole was roughly formed and obviously created by someone about the size of thirty-five year old man. A faint voice from below slowly increased in volume.

Get me the hell out of here! John cried.

John, are you all right? Trying with great difficulty not to laugh. I was trying to appear concern, but the shear stupidity of his action was making it difficult to contain my laughter.

What the hell is so funny? He annoyingly said in anger.

Well, what do you expect? I said, no longer able to contain my laughter. You know this ship must be over a hundred years old.

Are you through laughing, sir?

Realizing my insensitivity, I quickly responded, Sir? I’m sorry, John. I realize you’re my son-in-law and everything, but you must have known the condition of this old ship. Here, catch. As the flashlight fell into his anxious hands, a marvel of unfamiliarity appeared in the flash of the passing light. Oh my God! John! John! I shouted more intensely. Did you see that?

See what? he answered, obviously still angry.

I’m going to get some lights and a rope. I’ll be back in a minute, I responded.

Poor John, I hope he was all right. What a strange and goofy character. Rummaging through the emergency kit looking for lights and a rope, the memory of our initial meeting began to fill my thoughts.

It was around March 2010. I had just arrived home completely exhausted from working on my theory on dimensional traveling. Being a theoretical physicist, most of my time was spent at the office. It was a rare occasion for me to arrive home before my daughter. As I sat back in my brown overstuffed easy chair with a nice glass of red wine—Merlot, I believe, preparing myself for a nice long deserved nap.

Hi, Daddy. My relaxing slumber was suddenly interrupted when Nyssa walked in.

She was a beautiful and sweet girl. With beautiful long brown hair, and brown eyes. The type of eyes any guy would fall in love with, and her mother’s smile. Which I recall was the same smile that melted my heart twenty-five years ago. Nyssa was always smiling, and she seemed to hold the secret of what it was like to be alive. She had been a godsend of support since my wife and son died five years ago. Without her, life would have seemed meaningless.

Nyssa’s personality was just like her mothers. She was sweet petite, kind, loving person, and would always be there for any stranger that needed help. Her personality would always attract people to her, and she would always be doing favors for friends.

Daddy, you look tired. Did you have any luck holding the dimensional door open? She asked, sitting on a chair opposite me.

No, Sweetie, still exhausted from my frustrating day. I think Einstein was right. We can’t seem to compensate for the power factor. I made myself appear a little more energetic. You seem very happy. Come over here and sit next to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.

The look in her eyes was the look of pure joy. Her child-like mannerism was exhilarating. Something was on her mind that could not wait to be expressed. Where was she? Could I get there? I had never seen her like this before. What surprise was she about to present to this tired old soul?

She stood up and sat on the edge of the sofa near me. She smiled nervously, and then quickly said, I’m getting married.

My exhausted body quickly re-energized. My tired eyes and aching back suddenly became healed. Ponce De-Leon’s search for the fountain of youth should have ended here. He probably would have wanted to bottle this reaction. What? You’re getting what? I surprisingly said.

Oh, Daddy, he’s a wonderful guy. I asked him to wait outside until I talked to you.

Why was he waiting outside? She obviously had to prepare me for something. As I looked up at her it became apparent that she was about to shock me with some unique characteristic about her fiancé. Okay, Nyssa, there’s obviously something about him you need to prepare me for. Let’s have it. How did you meet?

Still unable to suppress her happiness, Nyssa began her proud story of her fiancée. He’s an associate professor, specializing in mythology. He’s six foot, with a nice athletic build. He has short black hair, dark deep romantic brown eyes. I met him in class on one of his training seminars. He has a kind heart, loves the opera and the theater, and long walks in the park. He’s very romantic and loves to dance.

Her expression suddenly changed as she was trying to build him up to meet my satisfaction. The uncertainty in her eyes was disturbing. I’ve wanted to introduce him to you sooner, but… she paused.

I understand, Honey, I said. It can’t possibly be that bad.

She lowered her head slightly, and looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes. It reminded me of the time when as a child, she would hide behind her mother handing me a bad report card. Slowly I stood, sat beside her and put my arm around her. She rested her head on my chest. What’s wrong, Sweetheart?

After a few seconds, she responded in a quiet, innocent tone, He’s kind of older.

I released her and sat back, slightly troubled with this bit of news. I stared at her for several seconds before responding. What I said surprised even me. With a definite amount of uncertainty in my voice, but with the love and understanding I felt for my daughter, I took a deep breath and said, If you love each other and you’re happy, age shouldn’t matter. She looked up at me, wide eyed, and obviously surprised by my reaction.

How old is he? I stammered.

She smiled, He’s thirty-five.

I patted her hand and stood up slowly. Well… I said looking down at her, tell him to come in.

As Nyssa walked away to let her fiancée in, and no doubt tells him the happy news, memories of her first year in college came to mind. She was an idealistic young girl with romantic notions, and a seemly childlike enthusiasm. Her first course dealt with mythology cultures and animals. She had unrealistic views of the existence of unicorns. Just like her mother had. Dear, God, you made her so much like her mother.

When Nyssa returned with her fiancée, I noticed a good-looking man in excellent shape, brown eyes and hair. Wearing brown pants and nice cashmere sports jacket with ostrich cowboy boots.

Daddy, this is John. As he reached for my hand, I noticed his brow was profusely sweating. His hand felt clammy and unsure, and he had difficulty maintaining eye contact with me.

Relax, son, have a seat. As he made himself comfortable, I noticed Nyssa’s eyes. The love she felt for him was obvious. He looked at her as she sat beside him, and received her approving smile. He returned a gentle smile and shyly turned away. A rare thing they had, I thought. I’ve only experienced it once in my life.

You might as well relax, John. You know I’m going to give you the third degree, I eyed him suspiciously. Instead of me asking the questions, just start talking. I took a seat in the sofa across them. Oh, by the way, Nyssa, don’t say a word until he’s finished.

This unsure, nervous man suddenly became very sure of himself. His posture straightened, and direct eye contact with me was steady, except for an occasional loving glance at my daughter. It was as though he had practiced this speech and was addressing a full room of his colleagues.

I’m thirty-five years old, he began. I’m an associate professor specializing in mythology I graduated from UTT, and started teaching at…

As he continued regaling me of his accomplishments, my mind faded away to my lost love. I wish she were here to experience this. This man, this love of my daughter’s life, was going to take my little girl from me. She had finally grown up. She didn’t need me anymore. I would finally be alone. What a thought, but I cannot be selfish. Nyssa was a great judge of character. She could probably bring anyone home, and I would approve.

…I love your daughter, and I promise to make her very happy, John finished.

Well, John, not really hearing everything he had said, Nyssa seems very happy, and you seem to be very successful in your life. I can see you really love my daughter. I stood up and extended my hand. Welcome to the family. Nyssa came around and hugged me. Tears filled my eyes. She was truly happy. At least one of us was, I thought. If only my lost love could experience this with me.

Dad? Dad! A loud voice brought me back to reality. Oh, yeah—rope—John—grab lights. I tied the rope and lights to the mast and lowered them down to him. John! I called out, I’m going to run back to the sailboat to turn on the generator. As soon as the lights come on pull yourself out. I hurried back.

John suddenly called out in a definite, frightened voice, Oh my God…Oh my God! Dad, get over here! What the hell…what the hell is going on?

I ran back to the ship and found John staring at the walls. What is it? My curiosity and anxiety was about to overwhelm me.

Look at what’s hanging on the walls and from the ceiling, he said.

Along the darkened walls, were the remains of animals from some horror movie. The eerie unfamiliarity of these creatures, these beasts, sent chills throughout my body. All right, John, I said, trying to remain calm. I’m going to make a harness and lower myself down.

Wild thoughts overwhelmed me as I made a foot noose and threw the rope around the mast. What wondrous curiosity have we discovered? Who obtained these weird artifacts? I’m coming down, John.

Hurry up, Dad. You need to see this.

As I slowly lowered myself down the hole, I was astonished by the remarkable collection. I passed a huge bird-like creature hanging from the ceiling. Its beak contained sharp, serrated teeth, but the beauty of its feathers was staggering—at least a ten-foot wingspan. This creature must have been a glorious beast when it was alive. A small, black hairball hung near the bird. It was about the size of softball. It had tiny sharp teeth, the canine teeth unusually long. Its wings were also black with a leathery texture to them. It had tiny pointy ears coming from the top of its head, with piercing emerald green eyes. It appeared to be a species of bat. Animal heads were mounted all along the walls, a multitude of beauty and danger. These creatures seemed almost mythological in nature. Sheep-like heads with gold colored hair, also bearing large, sharp teeth. Most of these creatures appeared to be carnivorous. Where was the gentleness one would expect of these beasts? There was no peace hanging on the walls. What a horrific collection of fear.

When I finally reached the floor, John’s back was turned to me. He appeared as a child, trying to hide something. Well, John, what do you think? I asked.

He turned his head to face me, still concealing what he had. Do you think these animals are real, Dad? Were they really once living creatures?

I don’t know. How could they be? I said looking around. The ship is obviously deserted. I commented. I turned and watched John for a moment, and then my curiosity over came the best of me. What are you hiding? I finally asked.

In a slightly humorous tone he answered me, Something you are not going to believe.

Well…what is it? I asked impatiently.

He slowly turned around. He had a smile on his face, and in his arms, the head of an exquisite, beautiful beast. I stared at the head, alarmed and amazed at what John had found. Here was the gentleness that was missing from the gruesome collection on the walls. He had found beauty, where there was only evil. He had found peace when there was only confusion. I stood before a creation from God. Hidden from man all these centuries.

Dad, do you know what this is? he asked.

I reached to take it from him. John reluctantly released his grip on what I recognized to be the beautiful white head of a unicorn. I carefully walked to one of the many wooden crates and sat down. As I rested the head on my lap and held its horn in my hand, I silently spoke, This can’t possibly be a real creature. Where are we, John? What has God thrown our way? We have fallen into this bit of despair and discovered the beauty within.

John stood quietly as we both continued to stare at the head.

All right. Before we get carried away and jump to any conclusions on what all this means, I’m going to start opening these crates. I said. I think you should start looking in the other rooms down here and see what you can find.

After a few minutes, John anxiously made his way to the other compartments. I became curious of his boyish nature as I watched him. Professor of mythology—please. He must really be enjoying himself. But he could not possibly believe any of this is real.

I carefully laid the unicorn head down on a crate. I wonder, I thought to myself, and I reached into my pocket to pull out my pocketknife. I began to gently cut the hair around the horn. I had to know if this thing was authentic. I finally made my way past the hair and skin to expose the skull. It was attached! My God, the horn was attached! This damn thing was real! How could this thing be real? Staring at the head, I was ecstatic at the idea of their existence of herds of these beautiful beasts actually alive.

Before me, laid crates of boundless treasures. What unknown fascination was I going to encounter? I began opening the wooden crates. The first crate contained what appeared to be some type of fruit. Not rotted hundred-year old remains, but still fresh, sweet smelling fruit. They were about the size of a pear, but unlike a pear, it was fat on the top and bottom, the center was narrow. Its color was yellow, bright orange around the middle, and black kernel sized seeds on the outside. It smelled wonderful. Did I dare bite it?

Two other crates were filled with white, ground powder. The fourth crate revealed a sight I could not comprehend. Within the crate laid hundreds of long white horns. The horns had a spiraling pattern, the end of the spiral coming to a point. What creature did they slaughter to get these horns? Holding the horn in my hand I was completely taken in by its familiarity. I quickly turned around and looked at the unicorn head still sitting on the crate. My question was answered. How could they have been so cruel? My God, what have they done? Who were these people that did this? I exclaimed painfully.

As I continued to open more crates, each one generated more and more anger. Horns. There were hundreds of horns. Other crates contained more white powder, which I came to realize was consistent with the texture of the horns. Why were they grinding them down? Were they trying to create some sort of weird drink? Suddenly John’s voice startled me.

Dad! I turned quickly and saw John run into the room I was in. He was exhausted and breathing heavily.

John! John, what’s wrong? You look scared. What happened? I asked as I stood up and walked towards him.

Still trying to catch his breath, he told me of his discovery, I found the remains of the crew. They’re back here in the other room. He pointed out the door. Just down the hall, he said standing up.

We ran to the newly discovered room, and as we entered, the smell of the room was that of death. What is that God-awful smell? I said.

Using lights we had brought in from the other room, we saw before us a piece of hell. In the center of the room was an altar constructed of marble. The edge of the altar was outlined with gold. It was about three feet high and eight feet wide. A large golden knife with an eight-inch blade lay upon the altar. The handle was decorated with emeralds and rubies, creating an overlapping weaved pattern. The altar was covered with what appeared to be blood. Along the walls were mounted statues of gargoyles, not similar to the types we are familiar with atop large, old buildings. These creatures appeared more evil. Their teeth were large and covered with blood. Actually, they seemed to have been alive at one time—recently. The gargoyles were mounted on each wall so that they all faced the center of the room. To my final dismay, these ghoulish creatures were staring down at the crew just below them.

Sixteen crewmembers kneeled in the center of the room, back to back facing out. They were still fully clothed in their sixteenth century garments. Imbedded in the skulls of each crewmember was a knife identical to the knife found on the altar. What made the situation more frightening was the condition of the bodies. They appeared to have been dead only a few days. This would explain the stench of death when we first walked into the room.

John turned to me, Something wicked this way comes, he said. With fear in his eyes he continued, Dad, what have we stumbled on? I think we’ve entered into forbidden territory, and should probably leave while we still can. He turned to leave, shaking his head, This has got to be a bad dream.

I put my hand on John’s shoulder, steadying him, Get a hold of yourself, son. Let’s go find the Captain’s logs. I think you and I have a lot of reading to do.

As we made our way toward the back of the ship, we found a newly built spiraling staircase. John turned to me and pointed at it, How…? he began.

I nudged him on in front of me, up the stairs to the top deck. He was still shaking his head as we took each step slowly. Was there anything I could say to calm his fears? Was there anything I could say to calm my own? When we finally reached the top, we found ourselves at the stern of the ship. The sun was a kind reassurance that we had escaped hell. There was definite feeling of well being when the sun shone on your back. While our eyes adjusted to the light, I instructed John to lead the way to the Captain’s quarters. I watched him as we walked toward the bow of the ship. Welcome to the real world, I thought. He seemed to be doing a little better.

We finally found the Captain’s quarters, and as John started to open the door to the room, I reached for his shoulder and stopped him, Wait a minute, I said.

He turned to me and smiled. I’m fine, Dad.

Do you still want to leave? I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, and turned back to the door, and opened it.

The room was dark and cold, but it had a strange sweet smell to it. As we shined our flashlights through the room we managed to catch the reflection of two old kerosene lamps. Hand me some matches, John.

Hold on, Dad, I’ve been thinking, he said turning to me. Haven’t we seen enough? Let’s just leave this old ship, sink it, and let the secret die with it.

John, I said, using a more authoritative voice, hand me some matches.

As we began to light up the room, we found it contained a multitude of unfamiliar items. Truly excited, I turned to my son-in-law and became surprisingly aware of his state of mind. His eyes expressed fear and emotional exhaustion. I walked to him and lead him to a chair. Sit down, Son. I never realized you were so sensitive. Taking a seat beside him, I said, Nyssa saw your compassion and understanding, but what I see is that you’re also a little emotional. He looked at me, feeling a little embarrassed. I’d like to continue going through the Captain’s things, I told him. I’ll understand if you want to wait in the sail boat. John started to stand, slowly. His mind seemed to be racing. Penny for your thoughts? I humorously asked.

With an uneasy smile, he turned to look at me. I am a mythology professor, he started bravely. I have waited my whole life for this. I look around this room, this entire ship, in total disbelief. The legends I teach…and here lies proof that they may actually be truth and not fiction! At the beginning of every semester I give the same speech, ‘Imagine if you can the legends throughout time and where they came from. Imagine the existence of magic, of Pegasus the winged horse, and unicorns. Think of unicorns and the legends passed down about the magical powers in their horns. Flying dragons witches warlocks, trolls, and ghoulish night creatures. We are a world of legends. Remember that most legends usually have some truth to them.’ He paused and looked around slowly. I guess I never actually expected to get the opportunity to discover these truths. You know, Dad, he