time is coming | a continuation of the original now itās dark
youāll undoubtedly have to read the initial trilogy to understand the universe here, but iāll try and make it so it can stand alone. i aināt putting this on ao3 because itāll be my attempt at a comic book and to make a long story short, i canāt really focus on the writing on there making a comic out of the text (i learned my lesson after doing the comic for amped and wired).
June 1, 1989. Oswego, New York.
It sure is good to have my old job back in singing with Anthrax, even if it meant pushing John out of the fold. I can still feel the fire directed at me, but I can handle it all, though. If I nearly drowned in the lake and nearly been blown up by a nuke, then I can handle the four of them. But then again, itās going to be something to rearrange my hockey games with singing sessions and touring sessions, and especially on such short notice.
I have my demo tape, too, produced and polished by Lars of all people. Itās not like Iāll be starving to death at all.
I still think of Maya, though. I saved her as well as the whole world, and the fact that I singlehandedly took down an entire industry still feels surreal to me. Even after five months, it still feels like a dream.
My place also feels empty after the ghosts left and returned to the other side.
Itās all changed. Itās all morphed around and made into something I donāt recognize, and yet I still feel something in the wings. After all that thinking, and all that investigating, I came across this huge ecosystem where the dead were able to cross over into our world, and my grandfather was a part of it all as well. The land could be desecrated against the will of someone else, and if it happened once, it could unquestionably happen again. Even after twelve days, I knew that something could take its place. An industry fell, and one that took place over the course of some decades.
Something had to fill the void, especially with something that was supposedly too big to fail.
I may be a damn Injun, but Iām not an idiot. Being around someone as smart as Lars gave me something else, something that I could go by. Lars said itās a new era to celebrate, but all this time, I have had this nagging, persistent feeling within me that celebrations wonāt last for very long.
Itās another one of those hot and humid days in upstate New York where the mercury isnāt very high but you would swear that itās raining: itās not quite the lake effect but itās definitely something that makes me wish for snow again all day. I should wish for snow so I could curl up in bed again.
Then again, even if I could curl up in bed all day, thereās still plenty of things to do. Iām not the poor boy anymore trying to find his way around the world without the anchor of his band: now Iām the poor boy back in the band and with odd times to deal with from thence forth.
I sit up in bed, and I look out the window to the bright sunlight out there: the plants in full form, the fact that there wasnāt a cloud in the sky, and the feeling of the first heat wave on the horizon. Even in the summer time, itās so weird sleeping without the ghosts, especially when I expect to find Vera at the foot of my bed or Nerissa right next to me.
I guess itās not that bad. The last day at the hockey game, we were freezing our asses off, but at least we managed to play the game, though. I put on a sweater, and that long black winter coat as well as my black pants. I think Iām always going to be the man in black, more than the man in black himself.
The sun beats down upon my hair as Iām walking out there, and I know that it can pick up at any given point and time while Iām walking towards the street. Broad daylight and Iām still thinking about that night when I found Maya on the sidewalk. I donāt even want to think about finding another girl in a gutter, especially when I know for a fact that she could lead me to my own death.
The ghosts returned to the other side, but Iām still haunted. I have my hands on the sides of my head even though my head feels fine. Itās too hot and humid. I need something to eat, something to drink, something to do, something to take my mind off those scars and those memories.
Calm down, Joe. Calm down. Itās all behind you. Itās a brand-new day. Never forget where you came from but itās to build up fresh new memories.
I clasp my hands to my face and I glance back to my apartment complex.
I just want to go for a ride.
I go back to my place and fetch my keys, and I get in my car and drive out of there. Thereās always one place that I can go to, especially with my demo tape in the process of being made over there, and my hope is that I can get there before the afternoon thunderstorms flare up over the lake surface, and if the beads of sweat on the side my body are anything to go by, itās practically inevitable. I keep my hands out of the direct sunlight while Iām steering, and itās way easier said than done: my car is still a piece of crap and more so after all of that at the beginning of the year. Add to this, the air conditioner barely works and the heater finally gave out for real that time.Ā
And once again, Iām hungry and on the way over to Rochester, through the trees and without a place to stop for a time, except Spence is elsewhere. Iām still driving anyway because thereās only one place that I want to be at the moment. At least this time around, Iām not so hungry that I feel ready to puke there on the floor below the steering wheel.
I recognize the skyline, and I follow my nose to that familiar brick building. I can still smell the fine fabrics. I can still smell everything.
In fact, I can still feel everything. Even though it hadnāt been for very long, it still felt like a distant memory of sorts. I have to find myself a new mindset away from it all, away from the feelings that had haunted me in the wake of the ghosts leaving the apartment.
I take the spot before the front doors. I recognize those black letters on the white background over the bright lights: Sew Into You.
I find my way inside only to be greeted by the black and white checkerboard floor, the presence of the checkerboard all around me, and of course, that blast of air conditioning upon my head as well. I know her headband anywhere, and more so when she turns around and smiles at me as sheās holding a tulle of white lace.
āHey, Marcia!ā I stop right in my tracks at the sight of the deep purple crescent shape around her eye.
āHey, Joey,ā she greets me, and then she stops right at her tracks as well.
āWhatāwhat happened to your face?ā I gasp upon sight of her.
āOhāā She chuckles and runs her fingers over her black eye. āI got into boxing after the whole⦠adventure this past winter,ā she tells me.
āBoxing, wow! You donāt see that every day, at least not with girls.ā
āSoniaās been my trainer, too,ā she adds. āIn fact, she and I both have training and working out quite a bit these last few months. I do boxing, she does that Israeli oneāā
āKrav Maga?ā It takes me a second.
āYeah, that one! Add to this, the two of us also do capoeira on the weekends. Weāre getting stronger and harder every day after work. You never know when your friends are going to fall into a big-ass ordeal again.ā
Right as she says that, the ceiling light over us cuts out and weāre engulfed in darkness, albeit for a second: it comes back within a couple of seconds.
āWhat the hell?ā I wonder aloud.
āThe powerās been cutting in and out like this all week long,ā she explains as she sets the lace down on the counter behind her. āNo idea why and we canāt get an electrician in here, either.ā She reaches up for a caress of her black eye once again, and that time she grimaces from the feeling. āIāll be right back, this is starting to hurt like a son of a bitchā¦ā
As she walks out of there, I turn my attention to the other fabrics right behind me.
Thereās a guy on the other side of the tulles⦠and he looks like me. His long wavy hair the color of molasses, and his smooth skin kissed by the sun, and I am intrigued almost immediately. Heās looking at all the checkerboard fabrics, and I am particularly intrigued by his long and lanky fingers as they caress over the spines of the tulles.
He then turns and looks back at me, and his eyes are as bright as diamonds.
āHey,ā he greets me: his voice is low, almost gruff, and quite sensual.
āHey,ā I reply back to him, complete with a clearing of my throat. āLike what you see?ā
āOf course. I could totally use some of this back out in California. You wouldnāt think of it as getting all that cold out there, but it does.ā
āCalifornia, really?ā I show him a little smile. āWhat brings you to upstate New York?ā
āA little relaxation before we head back into the studio,ā he explains. āItās been a little get away for the five of us the last four months, and now itās time to wrap it all up.ā
āFive? Another quintet?ā
āYeah. Why do you ask?ā He chuckles at that, rather amused.
āIām the lead singer of a band, too, and thereās five of us.ā
āDudeāā He raises his hand for me, and I give him a high five.
āDude!ā And I feel my heart fluttering from the feeling, and Iām not sure whatās come over me, either. But I hunch my shoulders and embrace the chill up my spine.
āWould you like to take a walk with me?ā he offers.
āI kinda just came here to hang out, so⦠yeah.ā I crack him a smile, and I tuck my hands into my pockets.
āIām Chuck,ā he says.
āIām Joey.ā
Itās right then I wonder what Lars is doing right then, especially when we last spoke back in January after the dust had settled. A time to celebrate, was the last thing he had said to me.
He and I walk back outside to that overbearing humidity, but as long as Iām walking with someone else, and someone who didnāt get sparred in the face on accident: there is no way that Marcia can see straight, and I really just have to be away from the empty apartment at the end of it all.
I canāt go back to Black Orchid, even though I know that Iām always welcome back there. I need something outside of the pleasures of the flesh with a bunch of classy as hell girls.
Heās a fair bit taller than me, and quite a bit burlier as well, but my eyes are drawn to his slender waist and sinewy thighs. I donāt really know how to explain it but I feel something with him.
āI hope that we donāt walk too far from there,ā I confess to him.
āOh, we wonāt,ā he assures me, and he shows me a thoughtful little smile.
āYouāre Native American, right?ā
āPomo. From Northern California.ā
āIām Iroquois, from just a block from here,ā I retort, and he chuckles at that.
We reach the street corner, and all of a sudden, he stops me dead in my tracks with a hand on my chest. Itās a feeling I canāt really put my finger on, but I actually like the way that his hand feels on my body. But then he points to the street before use: thereās a line of trees up ahead of us, followed by the end of the street itself only for it to end into a dirt road.
In the bushes, I see something move.
āWhat the hell is that?ā he demands in a hushed voice even though weāre a ways away.
As far as I know, itās Death again.
We glance at one another and then he gestures for me to follow him. I swallow, and I have a bad feeling about this. Five months of quietness went by too fast.
But weāre walking, and heās bringing us to the bushes in question. Indeed, thereās a pathway back into the trees.
She has long scarlet hair and is wearing a long black gown. Sheās holding something in her hand.
āGet down, get downā¦ā he whispers to me.
We both hunker down behind the bushes and we watch the witch down by the trees. The sunlight shines through the trees onto her head and shoulders. The thing in her hand is a skull. It takes me a second to realize that itās also sparkling.
āDo you think sheāll eat us?ā he asks me.
āEat us?ā I raise an eyebrow at that. āI donāt think I can ever imagine a witch eating two Native American guys whole, not without spiking a lot of shit with some mad juju.ā
He snickers at that.
āShe could make a stew out of us,ā Chuck cracks. We watch her until she vanishes into the shadows before us, and we glance at one another.
āWhat do you think we should do?ā he asks me.
āWeāll have to follow her,ā I say with a shrug of my shoulders, especially when I know that Marcia is going to be out of it for a time. āWeāre going to have to be incredibly quiet, though.ā
He nods, and then, with our heads bowed, we creep into the trees. It might seem a bit odd to go on another adventure and with someone who I had just met, but I had done it before, and I was going to be damned if I didnāt do it again. I keep my head down a bit as I lead the way to the clearing, and weāre met with a ring of low pine trees all along the rim. A fine layer of mist surrounds us, even with it still being rather warm outside.
āIām gonna have to hit up Lars again,ā I say under my breath. āI have to call him again, anyway, heās got my solo album.ā
āYouāre making a solo album?ā
āYeah.ā I turn my attention back to him, and I show him a smile. But before either of us can say anything else, weāre met with a flash of heat upon our heads as well as bright blue light from the canopy of the trees.
āHoly shitāā He grips onto me and the two of us bow down towards the bushes. Against the blue light, which is giving me some serious flashbacks, there are the silhouettes of witch hats and their heads against the trees. I almost feel like I shouldnāt be there.
Chuck and I are going to get our clocks cleaned right after we had just met one another. Thereās a tree branch right next to me, and I pull it before us to protect us.
āLeave, believe, retreat!ā the witches chant in unison. āLeave, believe, retreat! Leave, believe, retreat!ā
āOh, god, itās like the worst thing you can imagine,ā he says right into my ear.
āLEAVE, BELIEVE, RETREAT!ā
This is followed by a loud crack!, followed by a series of bright green, red, and white sparks and another wave of heat upon our heads. I open my eyes to find the witches gone, but there are two figures on the ground on the other side of the clearing. Before I can do anything, Chuck moves out from behind me to investigate it all.
I hold still for a second as he creeps on over to them.
He then turns towards me with a worried look on his face.
āJoey, these two boys could be hurt! Help me!ā
I raise my eyebrows at that.
āOh my god in heaven,ā is all I can muster out. But I go over to him, anyway, and every step gives me a deeper pit in my stomach.
The two boys have darker skin in comparison to us, but by the look of their smooth almond-shaped eyes and their pushed in noses, I can tell they hail from Asia. Their long black hair tells me everything I need to know, and the smell of incense and sulfur gives me some ideas. Whatever those witches did to these boys, I knew in my heart that no doctor could solve it because they wouldnāt tell us anything, just like how they couldnāt possibly say anything about Maya or about my grandpa.
āOh, for crying out loud,ā I grumble to myself, and I help him pick up the two boys from the ground.
a little something something for the four-year anniversary coming up here on friday š„

















