Emergence Ascended: Emergence

By Joseph Hallett

To Will, an introverted book nerd, working at the library was the best job in the world; what makes it better is that he met his true love there. To Chemy, Will is literally the perfect boyfriend, But Will has a guarded past and family secrets. Can their love survive the truth of Will's past when Greed, betrayal, and a thirst for power threaten everything they have ever known, even reality itself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Hallett
• Release date: Nov 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224717712

Joseph Hallett

I write science fiction/fantasy and horror stories. I am intensely interested in the paranormal, cryptids, UfO/UAPs, and other esoteric subjects that influence my writing. I have many unpublished works that are in the making and in the process of publication.

Book preview

Foreword by T.A. Walker

It all started with hippie-scifi. Now, I can safely say that Joe Hallett’s knack for writing delightfully clever contemporary sci-fi is exactly what my reading gluttony was craving. Joe’s never-ending bank of current and not-so-current literary references activated my curiosities until the words on the page became a live-action experience. 

How I ever gained the privilege of getting first dibs on each chapter of his writing, I’ll never know. Yet, there is one thing that I’m confident about. I have discovered a writer who embodies a talent so special that to not read his work is criminal. 

Thank you for entrusting me with your story. It has been my distinct pleasure to witness your accomplishments. 

Your friend,

T. A. Walker, author of 25 books with titles including Ex, Play Boyfriend Season 1 & 2, & West. T. A. Walker also produces a weekly Spotify podcast called Free Writer.

Emergence, Ascended 

Prologue

The sky shattered. Literally shattered, like a cracked windshield or broken painted glass; huge shards of the sky fell away, leaving a black void behind it. He could hear it, too. It sounded like cracking ice in a glacier, rumbling in the distance. He was just taking a sip from his mai tai, his feet nestled in the warm sand on the tropical beach, where he casually relaxed on the lounge chair, watching the waves roll in. Barney Derrick, a former chief master sergeant in the Airforce, now AWOL, or away without leave, basked on an unnamed beach in the sunlight. The mai tai stopped just short of reaching his lips as he heard a rending sound, and the shattering sky captured his full attention. 

What the actual fuck? he blurted out loud, almost startling himself at the sound of his own raspy voice. Barney couldn’t remember the last time he used his vocal cords. Years maybe? He didn’t need to, not here. There was no one here to talk to. He was utterly alone on the beach, the island, and this entire world. This was his prison, solitary confinement until now.

Part one

Chapter 1 

She watched him from the end of a bookcase as she took a book from the shelf. He was helping an older woman check out her books and put them into a book bag as a book slipped out of her frail hand, thumping softly on the well-worn carpeted floor. He stood up quickly and moved around the desk to pick up the fallen book for her. He flicked his shoulder-length, somewhat shaggy blond hair out of his green eyes and smiled. It was possibly the most genuine and kind smile she had ever seen. Now enthralled by the scene, she continued watching as he placed the last book into the woman’s bag and offered to carry it to the exit for her. He held the heavy wooden doors for the old woman, handing her bag to her as she left, and then he went back to his desk.

Glancing around the now almost entirely empty library, feeling the weight of her own books, she decided she was done choosing and began walking to the checkout desk.

William Freidman hunched over, staring intently at a massive book in the silence of the dimly lit library. He was surrounded by stacks of books so high that they nearly hid him from view like a protective wall. The book he was staring into was a three-inch-thick tome with yellow, fragile-looking pages. She was patient, but he had been looking at the page (she glanced up at the clock on the wall) for a few minutes now. He was so lost in what he was doing that he was completely oblivious to her. She cleared her throat intentionally loud, obviously trying to get his attention. 

The bejesus! he squealed, his knees thumping the desk as he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked around nervously, hoping his squeal didn’t bother the library patrons.

I’m the only one left, she said, looking amused. Whatcha reading? 

He was momentarily stunned by her beauty. She had flawless obsidian black skin, long braided hair, and full, supple lips. He fumbled with the earbuds, pulling them out of his ears, smiling, and trying to appear like he wasn’t looking her over. Oh, I’m not, actually; I was just picking a new audiobook. He tilted the book he was staring into so she could see. A tablet was perfectly nestled into the pages of the book. The screen showed a long list of books he was struggling to decide on.

Her brilliant hazel, almost red eyes squinted accusingly at him. You destroyed a book to hide your tablet? she asked scornfully. 

His face, already a shade of pink from being startled, turned a redder hue; he was embarrassed by the accusation. No, no. I made it, he said, smiling as his face returned to its natural pale color. He lifted the book with ease, handing it to her to inspect. 

She noted that it was far lighter than it appeared as she took it into her hands, awkwardly shuffling the books she was already holding. She closed the book and examined it, nodding her head in approval. The book looked old, as if it belonged in an archive. The leather cover had a grim-looking face stretched out. Nicely done, she said with a slight wince at the gruesome face as she handed it back. "The Necronomicon. I’m impressed."

Thanks, he said as he took it back from her and shrugged. I took a bookbinding class last year.

He sat looking at her, getting lost in her fiery eyes, then her lips and chin.

She cleared her throat again, breaking the awkward silence, and kept his eyes from wandering further down. Soooo, can I check these books out or what? she said, half annoyed and half amused. 

Oh. Right. Geez, sorry, he fumbled out, his face turning pink again as she set a stack of books and her library card on the desk. He picked up the barcode scanner and started scanning her books.

As she waited, her eyes drifted over the desk. They stopped on the earbud he’d pulled out after she startled him, and she squinted at it. So you work in a library, but you don’t like to read? she asked, confused. 

Yup, that’s pretty much it, he said, following her eyes to the earbud. 

But you like books? Enough to take a bookbinding class?

Mmm-hmm, he mumbled between beeps of the scanner. But you seem to, he remarked, looking at the last few of the six books she had picked out. Schopenhauer, Nietzsche. Kant. Will read the names, rubbing his forehead as if he were getting a headache. Pretty standard stuff for a nihilist, he said with a smirk. Are you a nihilist? 

I’m a philosophy major, so pretty much, yeah, she said, deadpan. They both laughed at that.

Will scanned her library card and set it on the stack of books. Well, you’re all set, he said, squinting at her card. Alchemy, he read aloud.

Chemy, she corrected, I go by Chemy, she said, smiling and looking him in the eyes. Will got butterflies as their eyes met. The glint of fire in her eyes against her smooth, dark skin made his heart race. 

He slid the stack of books to the edge of the desk where she could reach it and stood up, extending his hand. I’m Will, he said, introducing himself.

She took his hand and shook it. Nice to meet you, Will.

You too, Chemy, he replied, smiling.

She slid the books off the desk, slipped them into a book bag, turned around, and headed for the exit. He did his best not to stare as she walked away. He made busywork of moving the stacks of books around while keeping an eye on her as she left. You’re cool, just a work-a-day Joe. Not a creeper, he thought as she pushed through the door. Did she look back at me? He couldn’t tell if he imagined it, but it was a subtle glance his way if she did. 

Will put his earbuds back in and finished choosing his next book to listen to. He mechanically started scanning the returned books and putting them on the return carts while replaying the last few minutes. Damn, she was cute. He knew he was lying to himself. She was more than pretty. Hot? No, that’s trashy. She was more. She was, well, captivating. Satisfied with that thought, he continued scanning the returned-book pile. He repeatedly played the encounter in his head and cringed at himself, embarrassed. Then he thought about their introduction again. Thinking about the softness of her hand, its comforting warmth. Suddenly self-conscious, he wondered if she felt an attraction. He ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair in a surge of nervous energy. I’m an idiot nerd. Of course she’s not into me; I just had to play show-and-tell with my homemade tablet case.

He sat there daydreaming for a while longer before realizing that he had gotten himself worked up for nothing. He likely would never see her again anyway. With the size of the stack of books she had and their content, who knew when she would return them to the library. He sighed in defeat. Well, it was a fun thought while it lasted, he thought.

The rumble in his stomach reminded him that his shift was over soon, and he should actually get some work done. He stood up and started pushing the book cart down the aisle of bookcases with renewed vigor. He had to chuckle at himself for slacking off; he had been staring at the book list for too long in the first place before Alchemy derailed him. Will stopped in the middle of the aisle as he realized two things: one, that he was just wandering up and down the aisles daydreaming and not even shelving the books on his cart, and two, that he had not even been listening to his audiobook and had to start it over. He chuckled again and slapped his face to break himself out of his daze. I get it. She was hot. I am into her, but I need to snap out of it and get some work done. He gave himself another few slaps in the face and shook it off, clearing his head and beginning to work in earnest. 

Will made short work of shelving the books now that he was no longer distracted. He pushed the cart back to its home by his desk and started the last of his duties. He tossed his tablet, which looked like an old spell book, into his backpack. Remembering how Chemy had said she was impressed with it made him wince with regret. I should have at least asked for her number, he scolded himself. He glanced at the computer and thought he could, you know, just accidentally look at her membership file and accidentally memorize her phone number. Then what? Text her, "Hey, I’m that guy from the library. Wanna go for coffee or something?" He rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. Yeah, starting off as a stalker is going to get you far. He quickly shut down the computer before getting in trouble, then grabbed his backpack and jacket and headed out. His stomach rumbled again, more aggressively urging him to find the nearest fast food on the way home. 

He kicked the door with his heel as he entered his tiny apartment. There was a faint click as the door latched shut behind him. There was just enough light in the apartment to see as the evening darkened the skies and streetlights turned on outside. He slid his backpack onto the couch, plopped down next to it, and opened the paper sack that held his dinner, chow mein noodles. He leaned back, slid his laptop onto his lap, powered it up, clicked the remote, and turned his TV on. Just in time for Horrorfest, he thought and took a big, messy bite of noodles. House, the 1984 classic starring William Katt, played softly in the background as his laptop glowed to life. He didn’t need to watch it, and it was really there for background noise. He had seen it half a dozen times, but it was still on his favorites list. 

He opened his email—spam, spam, spam, About what I was expecting—closed it, and then clicked on an icon on his desktop. The icon was a black handprint on a white background. His favorite blog, Handprints of Darkness. It was a blog about the eighties and nineties horror classics. He took another bite, slurping a stray noodle with a whooshing sound, and started reading.

Today’s blog post was about Phantasm. Technically, it was made in 1979, not the eighties or nineties, but one of the things he liked about this blog was that if it was a good horror movie, they blogged about it, no matter when it was made. He wasn’t a big fan of Phantasm. Its dreamlike, surreal imagery made it hard to follow the plot, and Will thought it better to watch the first three movies in reverse order. He read the blog, mostly agreeing with some of the commentaries, surprised by a new insight that had never occurred to him, smiled, and nodded to himself.

Aside from the topic itself, being horror movies, the blogger, Serenity Gates, was what made him enjoy this blog the most. She had phenomenal content, deep insight, and wit, which kept him reading, and the picture of her in her bio wasn’t hard to look at either with her exotic Persian features, and he liked the goth look, too. He ordinarily hated reading, but this wasn’t a podcast, and he was addicted to the content. Today’s new post on her blog was short and only had the tagline "Coming soon... An experiment in video blogging, in my review of Hellraiser." Will pumped his fist in excitement at being able to watch her video/blog, and was excited that he didn’t have to read it anymore. 

The memory of explaining why he listened to audiobooks in the library instead of reading to Alchemy—Er, Chemy—sent a flurry of butterflies through his belly. His face flushed red, and butterflies danced around as that memory flashed. Might as well stop thinking of her; you’re never going to see her again. He had been distracted by grabbing noodles and reading the blog; he had thought he had forgotten the strange, exciting encounter. 

He shook his head to clear away thoughts of her, then leaned back and put his feet on the coffee table as he closed his laptop. The scene in House where Richard Moll, playing Big Ben, was stalking Roger Cobb in the swamps of Vietnam was playing now. My favorite part! he thought as he finished his noodles. The movie played out, his eyelids grew heavy, and he faded away to sleep.

Chapter 2 

Rain might be a bit strong a word. Constant drizzle. That was what it actually was. The light wind blew the rain with just enough force to push it past the eaves and onto Will’s small apartment window. It had been doing this for a week straight and had no signs of letting up. Contrary to popular belief, Seattle, just north of where Will lived, did not get a lot of rain, at least in total inches. What it did get was a near-constant mist all winter long.

The drip, drip, drip of water that leaked from his window pooled at the corner to eventually drip into the Tupperware bowl strategically placed under the windowsill, waking him up. As sleep faded and he became aware, he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’d overslept, not that it really mattered. He wasn’t late for work; he still had two hours before his shift at the library started. He sat up, stretched, and checked his phone. No new texts, no new emails. Perfect.

He followed his usual morning routine of shit, shower, shave, get dressed, and raid the fridge for some afternoon snacks for work, checking the weather forecast to see how many layers to put on, and heading out the door to his favorite espresso shop.

He got to the library early, as usual. He hated being late for anything. But starting work early for fear of being late wasn’t the real reason. He just really enjoyed being there. It wasn’t even work, to be honest. He sat at the desk, sipping his coffee, contemplating that he had never even approached breaking a sweat at the library. And it’s not work if you’re not active enough to break a sweat. Another reason why he liked working there. It was quiet, and you could let your mind go where it wanted. A loud thump on his desk made him jump, banging his knees on the desk and shooting a little squirt of coffee out of the little hole in the lid of the coffee cup, landing across his face, just barely missing his eye.

Farfegnugen! he sputtered out. He looked at the stack of books that had just slammed onto his desk. On purpose, of course. His heart stopped, and he felt as if it wouldn’t start up again. It’s you, he blurted. Geez, lady, do you have to keep scaring the crap out of me? he said while wiping the coffee off his face and shirt. 

Farfegnugen, Chemy replied flatly. It was ‘bejesus’ the first time, she said with a mischievous smirk. Are you okay? Every time I see you, you are, well, like a zombie, she said, sounding concerned. 

Finishing the reboot cycle, his heart thumped hard in his chest. Uhhh... was all he could get out. 

She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. You are a strange one, she said, amused.

He suddenly felt self-conscious and a little embarrassed. His face started heating up, and he could tell it was turning red. Uhhh... he stammered with a blank look. His eyes flitted from her face to his coffee, then back to her eyes. Umm, you want to get some coffee or something? he blurted out as if it were one word. Then he turned pale, shocked at himself.

Her eyes glanced at the coffee cup in his hand. Nice recovery, she said as if it were a question but had no hint of malice behind it. He followed her eyes to his coffee. 

Um, I mean. Uh, like, you know. Sometime? In the near future, I’m at work and all, he continued, feeling like he was digging a hole he couldn’t escape. 

Well, when you put it that way, how could I resist? she said, amusement still on her face. 

He looked forlorn, like someone had just kicked his puppy, and sighed.

She looked at him curiously. "You