Taboo Descendants and the Multi-Dimensional War

“You!” I screamed before launching myself towards her, my eyes wild and ablaze with pure, vengeful insanity.

Before I could reach her, I felt myself being propelled backward into the hallway by an invisible but solid force. I felt Rahim catch me, softening the impact of the blow as we hurdled into the wall behind us. The wall knocked the air out of my lungs. I literally did not know what had hit me.

Before Rahim could place me on my feet, JJ’s door slammed in our faces followed by a loud explosion from within the room. Losing my last strand of mental stability, I lowered my shoulder and rammed it into door with all my might. It flew open.

Though I had succeeded in busting through the door, no one stood in the room before me.

The overhead light went out in the blast and my eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. A cool breeze wisped across my sweaty brow. I turned to face it and consequently discovered the outcome of the explosion.

The wall of my son’s room had been blown away, leaving a gaping hole in its place. I stared at it perplexed by its creation.

Rahim stood in the front yard in front of me. Though I never saw or felt him pass me, there he was. His head turned franticly back and forth, searching for the assailant. I tried to think of a logical explanation for his position outside but the possibilities alluded me.

What does it matter anyway? My son is gone!

I collected what was left of my rationale and ran across the room towards him. At least he had not run away. I thought we could split up and go after her ourselves. The police could not help us. I had seen firsthand how effective their methods had been against her.

I jumped through the gaping hole and into the night, landing softly beside Rahim. He looked as upset and anxious as I felt, but surprise did not show on his face. He knew who the woman in white had been.

“Who is she and where did she go?” I asked him, straining to make my tone sound less accusatory than my thoughts.

“Her name is Hayami Xukyio Zux and I will not allow you to go after her,” he said firmly, taking his eyes off our surroundings and connecting them with mine.

“Excuse me?” I replied astonished and irate. “You can’t stop me from trying to save my son! Who the hell are you?”

I got in his face. I could feel the heat radiating from him, but it did not have the cozy, inviting feeling that I had felt earlier this evening. It seemed as if years had passed since that intimate moment. In an instant, I did not care about height, gender, or muscle mass. If he collaborated with th the enemy, he would have to be dealt with first.

I am not afraid!

As if he knew what I was thinking, his look softened his stance and said gently, “Kaya, you have to listen to me! Hayami is lethal and she is not alone. There are more of them out there and she’s not the most dangerous one.”

I stared at him in shock. My world faulted and I could not comprehend his words.

He continued, “I would go after your son myself, but I refuse to leave your side. In all honesty, she killed him the moment she touched him. Her motivation for taking his body was surely to have you follow her.”

The remnants of my heart shattered into a million pieces, extinguishing my internal flame like a wet towel on a crackling camp fire.

“You don’t know that!” I screamed.

“I know her,” he retorted.

I slowly began to deflate into nothing. “I don’t believe you,” I muttered defiantly.

I knew that what he told me sounded logical. I had seen what the murderous assassin could do on two separate occasions.

“Please, believe me,” he said sympathetically, placing his hand on my left shoulder. “Now, we must leave this place. It is not safe here any longer. They will be here soon to finish you off.”

Who was ‘they’?

“But why? What did I do?”

He took the hand perched on my shoulder and clasped it in mine. As he pulled me through the front yard towards his parked car, I looked back at my home.

“Wait! I don’t want to leave!”

“Sorry. We do not have a choice.”

I felt betrayed and worried that I would never be able to return again. My mother murdered, our house desecrated, my son kidnapped. I felt he lived despite what Rahim told me. I could feel him in my heart.

When the car stopped moving, I did not take notice. I had spent the entire ride, however long, in a trance. I did not sleep, but I did not pay attention to the world around.

All I could see before my eyes were memories. All I could hear was my son’s voice telling me that he loved me. All I could taste was my mother’s cooking. The smell of it filled my nostrils.

“Kaya,” called a handsome voice. “Kaya, can you hear me?”

I shook my head, less as a response, and more as a means to free myself from my bemused state. When I looked around, Rahim knelt beside me in the open doorway of the car. I must have looked disheveled because his eyes were full of concern.

A salty breeze crept over his shoulder and caressed my face. As it did, I could feel the wet streaks from my tears chill and begin to dry. Reality set in and new tears rushed down my face to retrace the trails marked by their predecessors.

“You are safe now,” he said, stroking my hand tenderly. “Come. Let us find you a place to rest.”

Yes, I need to rest.

I felt exhausted and hurt. The pain of being awake and aware proved far too much for me to bare. Every muscle in my body felt spent. Every moment of consciousness filled my mind with regret and grief.

I desired to close my eyes and never open them again.

I tried to express this in words, but I could not. I felt no shame in my moment of weakness, only sorrow. I had no words left in me to speak.

I nodded my head, hoping he would understand.

He reached over and tucked one arm beneath my neck. His other arm slid smoothly beneath my knees. Before I knew it, he raised me out of the car and into his arms. My face nestled tightly against his chest.

Darkness finally found me as I a closed my eyes to rest.

When I awoke, I could not be sure how long I had been dead to the world. I looked around confusedly, trying to figure out where I was and how I had gotten there.

The bed I had slept in did not belong to me, but I found it to be quite comfortable. The interior of the room held no clues as to its owner, but it smelled clean.

Everything had its place and nothing looked out of order—excluding me. I obviously did not belong.

The light in the room came from a single floor lamp. The blue glow stretched across the floor and up the walls in cool, thin strips.

I stepped out of the bed and stretched my arms above my head. My muscles felt fatigued and my joints a bit rigid, but my body moved to my command with little resistance. I had definitely slept well.

My sole point of discomfort lay in my mouth. It felt extremely dry, like I had spent the last few nights in the desert. Though the air in the room felt normal to my skin and eyes, it seemed to scratch my parched throat. I needed water and answers.

I walked towards the door that stood between me and resolution. Though I was completely awake now, I could not shake the feeling of mental grogginess. I felt like a recovering alcoholic, unable to remember the transgressions of the night before. I could not recollect what had happened immediately before I had fallen asleep.

Speaking to my son about his deceased father served as my most recent memory, although I did recall arguing with my mother about going out on date with Rahim.

The date! Think, think—

My mind recalled Jules. His face was the only thing I could remember.

I opened the door and stepped out of the bedroom. I began to walk guardedly down the adjacent hallway. As I did, I took in nothing more than blank walls and a carpeted floor. I continued through the unfamiliar residence unable to regain any short-term memories beyond the beginnings of my date with Rahim.

I became more and more fearful.

I reached the elbow of the hallway where it took a sharp 90º turn. I paused with my back against the wall, literally and figuratively. What to do from here? I took a quick glimpse around the corner. No one was there.

I continued my quest inching down the hallway. I had only walked a few steps when I saw something up ahead, a rectangle of pale light appended to an open doorway. I walked towards the light, unsure of what to expect.

I discovered a large, open kitchen with sunlight pouring into the room from skylights in the ceiling. The light appeared faint, but golden as it would early in the morning or late in the evening. Most of the light fell on an island in the center of the kitchen.

In the center on the golden light sat a glass vase halfway filled with water, holding a bouquet of white lilies. From the doorway of the kitchen, I could see that my name printed neatly on the face of an envelope that leaned on the base of the vase.

I relaxed somewhat as I walked over and picked the envelope up. I extracted the card from within and began to read:

“My Precious Kaya,

Life is innately ironic,

At times it can even seem cruel.

When good is taken for granted,

Evil regains its chance to rule.

Hold steadfast to that which binds you,

To all that is wholesome and pure.

Love those who keep you well grounded,

For them, find the strength to endure.

Truly Yours

P.S. You must regain your strength for the journey ahead. I have had a meal prepared especially for you. You will find it in the refrigerator. Enjoy and I look forward to seeing you soon.”

After reading the card, I felt three things: relief, hunger, and extreme thirst.

I knew where I was, in a fashion, but I still could not sure how I had gotten there. I hoped that since I awoke alone in the bed, Rahim and I had not behaved inappropriately. I felt I would remember I we had—well, hopefully.

I felt too thirsty to care at the moment.

I opened the refrigerator and looked inside. There, on the topmost shelf, sat a tray with a covered plate and pitcher of water.

Water! Glorious water!

I took the tray in my hands and turned to face the room, bumping the refrigerator door with my hips as I pivoted. It closed behind me softly. I considered placing the tray on the island and enjoying my little feast there, but no stools meant standing and eating. My mother would not approve.

Thoughts of my mother made my heart ache. I needed to apologize to her the next time I saw her, and I owed my son a date. I told myself that I would leave as soon as I ate something and Rahim returned.

I took my meal and walked through an adjoining archway leading into the dining room. It too shimmered in golden sunlight via skylights above. I could not find any artificial light fixtures and wondered how anyone would be able to see at night.

At the end of the table sat a single place-mat adored with silverware, glassware, and napkins. A newspaper lay folded above the place setting and out of the way.

I sat my tray down and took a seat.

I indulged in a large glass of water, drinking it slowly and savoring every single drop. The cool liquid felt marvelous as it traveled down my esophagus. It chilled my body upon its decent and had to have been the best glass of water I had ever tasted. After my second glass, I decided that water alone would not ease my cravings. I needed food as well.

I enjoyed my meal of pita bread, hummus, tabouli, fresh fruit and vegetables, I read the comic section of the newspaper. The food, though simple, tasted delicious. I laughed and enjoyed my favorite Sunday comics. With online news being so prevalent, it had been ages since I had actually read a hardcopy newspaper.

Upon finishing my meal, I turned to the front page of the newspaper to read the top stories. I had no idea why I tormented myself with such things. The top stories always covered the most devastatingly tragic stories, especially the ones above the fold.

Instinctually, my eyes traveled there first. In large, bold letters were the words, “Mysterious Deaths Continue, 7 More Victims Claimed”.

I decided to read that story later to see if any of the information could be useful to my research. I skimmed down to the bottom of the page. There another title captivated me: “Grandmother Found Dead, Child Missing, Mother and Doctor At Large.” I proceeded to read the story.

As my eyes feed the narrative to my brain, I became extremely ill. The suppressed memories that my mind had attempted to protect me from came rushing back to me with the intensity of a volcanic eruption. My stomach expelled my breakfast. They disgorged violently onto the table and floor.

My mother is dead, my son is gone and they think I did it!

My eyes filled with tears, my heart rate quickened, and my breathing faltered. With each tiny, strained breath, I grew more and more lightheaded.

How could they suspect me? I love my mother and my son! I would never do anything to hurt them!

“Rahim!” yelled a female angel’s voice from what seemed like a distant world. “Kaya’s hyperventilating! Grab the AABA and set it to O2 inhale, CO2 exhale.”

A second later, a firm yet feather-light hand rubbed me on the back and an elegant Iris glided into my distorted line of sight. Even as a blur she looked gorgeous. For reasons unknown, she sported large, dark sunglasses. Her olive skin radiated in the dim glow from the sunlight.

“Kaya, I need you to calm down,” she instructed.

In the middle of a panic attack, her mere presence seemed to bring peace to my troubled soul. From the furrow of her brow, I could tell that she worried about me. Her thin, pink lips parted as she spoke again.

“Kaya, relax. It’s going to be alright,” she chirped.

Suddenly, I felt my whole body unwind. A coolness washed over me, but my lungs burned from the strain I had placed on them. I began to breathe again, though not deeply.

Rahim knelt in front of me now. He too wore large sunglasses. They made him look like a rock star. Though their purpose alluded me, he looked more stunning than I remembered.

With his face still directed at mine, he reached down into his pocket and he took out a Y-shaped, tubular object in a translucent case. As he removed the object from its casing, I could not help but wonder what he planned to do with it. I watched as he flexed the two ‘necks’ of the object back and forth, testing its flexibility.

The material of the object resembled both plastic and metal, almost like aluminum foil, only it did not wrinkle when he bent it. He repeated the flexibility test for the ‘body’ of the object as well. It proved to be just as bendable as the necks.

Without warning, he stuck the ends of the necks in my nostrils and the bottom of the body in my mouth.

What the—!

Needless to say, the action shocked me. I would have protested the assault, but I could feel the tubes begin to expand in my nasal and oral cavities, preventing me from speaking.

I thought I would surely suffocate because I could no longer breathe of my own free will. Despite this fact, my chest rose and fell as always. It filled with pure oxygen felt amazingly refreshing and cool, like mountain air. My lungs ceased their burning.

With my breathing restored, my thoughts returned to my deceased mother and missing son. Though I expected to feel the panic, pain, and distress that I felt before, the emotions did not surface. My mind felt completely at ease, as did my body.

Astonished and perplexed, I looked around and found Iris’s bright blue eyes. She had pulled her sunglasses off and laid them to rest on the top of her head. She was squinting slightly as if the light hurt her eyes. Nevertheless, she did not take her blue orbs off of me.

They extinguished my internal fire like two pools of deep, glacial water. A chilling sensation passed through my core. It did not deter but rather intensified my current state of repose.

Could she be the source of this surreal serenity?

“I know what you are going through, Kaya,” said Iris. I unintentionally gave her an incredulous look and she expounded by saying, “Rahim and I lost both of our parents when we were newborns.”

I looked down bashfully. I should not have jumped to conclusions and assumed she did not understand my grief. I lifted my eyes back to hers and she smiled at me gently.

I turned my attention to Rahim to see if he had accepted my unspoken apology. He had.

I pointed at the foreign object in my nose and mouth, signaling that I was able to breathe on my own and desired to talk. Rahim reached over and pinched the body of the object, which lay directly over the groove in my upper lip. Slowly, the object began to retract. He removed it and returned it to its case. A mist began to circulate within the case as soon as it was closed. I really hoped it contained disinfectant.

“What is that thing?” I asked, intrigued. In all my years of practice, I had never seen anything like it.

“It’s an AABA,” replied Iris.

“Ambient Air Breathing Apparatus,” explained Rahim.

I nodded. “Impressive. And you can set it to intake and emit different gases?”

That part had caught my attention even in my state of distress.

“Yes. As long as the gas is present in the ambient air, the AABA can retrieve and deliver it,” answered Rahim, matter-of-factly.

“But why would you need anything except O2 and CO2?” I asked, slightly amused. Though I grinned at him, he did not return the smile.

“Because all living beings do not breathe dioxygen,” he retorted.

As I do in moments of uncertainty, I decided to make a joke out of the situation. I felt quite blissful after all.

Surely, he’s kidding.

“You plan on resuscitating any plants in the near future?” I questioned playfully, certain of the cleverness of my jest.

I imagined him sticking the tube into a pitcher plant and my smile grew.

Deadly serious, he never even cracked a grin. Though he did not display any anger, the look on his face read anything but comical.

I opened my mouth to inquire further, but Iris spoke first. “Kaya, I want show you something.”

“What would that be?” I asked.

“We have a place where we go to reflex on the passing of our parents,” she said.

“Oh.” My grin faded. Again, I thought of my mother but I did not feel grief.

Curious.

“It’s called the Spirit Room. Would you like to use it?”

Rahim, who did not seem to consent to the nature of his sister’s suggestion, answered for me, “Iris Okin, Dear, surely you cannot be serious. This decision is a rash—even for you.”

His tone reeked of disapproval. I could not recall him disagreeing with his beloved sister before this moment.

“On the contrary, Rahim, I know this is the right thing to do. Kaya is different and the Spirit Room will prove me right.”

“I will not condone this!” he spat.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you are not the Commander!” she retorted angrily.

Still in a state of bliss, I found myself confused by her terminology. “Who’s the Commander?” I asked.

“Hokor Veex, the finest Tepon commander in Eno. You met him as Jules,” she replied proudly.

“You cannot be serious right now!” Rahim retorted.

“I only understood half of that statement,” I admitted tranquilly.

Iris took my hands and gazed into my eyes. “You have much to learn, Kaya,” she twittered. “I know it is all confusing now, but we are here to help you learn everything you’ll need to know in order to fight back.”

“Speak for yourself,” shot Rahim.

“I speak for all of us,” she corrected, “On behalf of the commander.”

“Lunacy—” he muttered.

Looking back at me, she apologized with, “My brother was just leaving—before he makes himself look even more intolerably foolish.” She stood and glared at him.

“Good bye,” he growled and stormed out.

“I’m not sure what just happened,” I commented in a placid tone, “But it didn’t look good at all.”

She placed her hands on my shoulders softly. “Don’t you worry about him,” she cheeped. “I want to take you to speak with your mother.”

I felt my head tilt back in surprise. “But my mother’s dead,” I stated plainly.

“There’s no need for you to be afraid.

Your mother is only absent from this dimension, Kaya. Where you’re going, you will see her as she now exists.”