The In Between

A young kid skidded to a halt in front of the tavern. As he slipped through the front door, a pair of harried, sweaty soldiers rumbled past, scanning the streets for their quarry. The kid watched the soldiers disappear into the distance.

“Hey!”

The boy’s relief faded in an instant as he turned to face the owner of the gruff voice.

A grumpy old barkeep.

He saw dusty tattered clothes.

He saw the countenance of a cornered animal.

He saw trouble.

“Get out of here, trash. This is no place for you,” the barkeep snarled.

The young kid’s eyes frantically darted around for a friend. Or an ally. Or someone charitable enough to take pity on a dirty urchin.

In the center of the tavern, seated at a table, surrounded by a half dozen half drunk carousers, a handsome man watched with more than idle curiosity.

“Now!” the barkeep growled as he made his way out from behind the bar.

The handsome man rose and walked towards the scared kid and the barking barkeep.

“Now now. Is that anyway to treat a prospective customer?”

The barkeep remained unyielding.

“This trash doesn’t have any money. And if he does, I’m sure it’s not his.”

The handsome man put his arm around the kid’s shoulder.

“This young man is my guest. Please get him a bowl of stew.”

The stubborn barkeep made no effort to move.

“Put it on my tab and bring it over to the table.”

Without waiting for a response from the barkeep, the handsome man guided his guest to the table. After a muttered curse, the barkeep reluctantly headed for the kitchen.

“Sit. Join us,” the handsome man instructed the boy as he pulled out a chair for him.

Unable to resist a warm meal, the boy cast aside his reservations and sat at the table.

“Picking up strays now?” sneered a member of the motley crew sitting around the table.

“Just helping a fellow traveler,” the handsome man replied pleasantly, though the accompanying expression on his face lacked the warmth of his voice.

As the barkeep brought over the stew, the table returned to its previous state of bellowed bravado and sloshing pints.

The young kid devoured his stew like a starving animal.

The handsome man watched intently.

Smiled.

The young kid finished three bowls of stew as he listened to the boastful men narrate tales that grew more outlandish as the collection of drained pint glasses littering the table expanded.

The handsome man put his arm around the young kid’s shoulder.

“Have you ever had ale?”

The kid shook his head.

The handsome man smiled. Turned to the barkeep.

“Bring this young man a pint.”

Before the young kid could refuse, the barkeep dropped a mug of frothy ale on the table.

“Go ahead. Drink up. Whatever is bothering you, you will feel better,” the handsome man promised as the barkeep retreated back towards the bar.

The young kid stared at the mug, unsure of how to proceed.

“Go on,” the man said a little more insistently.

The young kid wrapped his little fingers around the handle and lifted the mug.

Took a big sip.

Started to gag.

The handsome man chuckled.

“Don’t worry. It gets better.”

The young kid tried another sip. A smaller, more cautious sip this time.

The handsome man was right. The bitterness of the ale receded further and further with each sip.

***

Three pints later, the young kid no longer felt like a stranger. Just another patron grinning goofily as he listened to embellished adventures filled with faraway lands and beautiful women.

Adrift in his own daydreams, the young kid failed to notice the handsome man get up from his chair.

Until, a few moments later, the man returned with a bottle and two glasses.

“Young man, have you ever heard of a gateway between realms?” the handsome man asked as he placed the bottle and glasses on the table.

The young kid shook his head. The handsome man smiled warmly.

“It is truly a sight to behold. A portal though time and space. And on the other side, peace like few of us have ever known.”

“The in between,” one of the men blurted, prompting laughter from the others at the table. And a menacing glare from the handsome man.

“Is that something that would appeal to you?” the handsome man asked as he turned his attention back to the young kid.

The young kid nodded.

“Wonderful. To make the portal appear, you simply drink this potion. One glass usually does the trick but for someone as strong as you, it might take two,” the handsome man said, finishing with a wink as he poured the whiskey.

No longer encumbered by trepidation, the young kid downed the whiskey in a gulp. As he put the glass down, the skin on his face shifted.

As if it had become liquid.

Began sliding down his skull.

“He’s one of them! You’re not going to…”

The handsome man threw his glass at the man, striking him in the forehead, knocking him from his chair.

“This young man is my guest. Mind your fucking manners,” the handsome man snarled.

During the bedlam, the young kid took advantage of the distraction and manipulated his face back into its original form.

The handsome man put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. Here, let’s get you one more,” he said as he poured another shot.

The young kid grabbed the glass and once again gulped down the whiskey. Almost immediately, his eyes glazed. The sounds of the tavern slowed, became muffled. As if the whole tavern had been submerged in water.

“I think this young man needs a place to rest,” the handsome man hollered to the barkeep.

“Second door on the right,” the barkeep replied, disgusted.

But not disgusted enough to turn down the coin.

***

The handsome man, carrying the passed out young kid in his arms, walked down the musty hallway to the second door on the right.

Without putting the young kid down, the handsome man slid out his right hand and grabbed the chipped pewter doorknob.

Turned the knob.

Opened the door.

Revealing an entirely unimpressive room not much larger than a closet, furnished with a threadbare bed and a battered hunk of wood masquerading as a dresser.

The handsome man laid the boy on the bed gently. Stroked his hair.

“You’re almost there,” the handsome man whispered.

The handsome man stood slowly, turning to face the dresser. And the mirror mounted atop.

As the handsome man walked over to the dresser. Eyes locked on the mirror the whole time. Unbuttoning his shirt.

“None of this is your fault,” the handsome man said to the mirror.

“You did not choose to be born weak,” he continued as he tossed the shirt on the dresser.

“But life is not concerned with fairness. Only with the whims of the strong.”

The handsome man withdrew a knife from the small of his back. Placed the blade gently on the dresser.

“I cannot change the circumstances of your life. But I can provide you with purpose.”

“What do you intend to do with the knife?”

Taking his eyes off his reflection in the mirror, the handsome man turned towards the bed.

The empty bed.

“Probably not anything good.”

The handsome man turned again towards the sound of the voice. A familiar voice. Similar to that of the young kid. But possessing a self-assuredness that had not been present previously.

The handsome man frantically spun about, looking for the voice.

But the room was empty.

“Just so you know. The In Between is not just a story designed to seduce vulnerable children. It does exist.”

The handsome man watched in astonishment as a jittering cluster of crimson sparks ripped and tore outward, carving a jagged gash before his mesmerized eyes.

“Not that you will ever see it,” a different voice, his voice, muttered behind him.

The handsome man turned around. Came face to face with the young kid. And a wicked smile.

In a blur, the young kid jumped straight up, quickly tucking his legs. Once he reached the handsome man’s chest, he extended both feet forward, mule kicking the handsome man backward.

Through the portal.

As the handsome man passed through the threshold, his flesh vaporized, leaving behind nothing but bleached white bones that fell silently into the nothingness of the portal.

Then poof. The portal disappeared.

The young kid laid prone on the ground for a moment.

Gritted his teeth.

Waited.

For what came next.

The young kid’s body began to convulse. Bones broke. Then grew. Then reknitted. All in an instant. Skin reweaved over this changing form. The young boy’s clothes stretched until they could stretch no more.

And the young kid was no more.

At least, not in his previous form.

Lying naked in a pile of tattered clothing fragments, the handsome man took a deep breath.

He looked at his right forearm. An unseen brand etched another tick mark, thirteen in total, on his flesh.

And the formerly young kid rose, dressed in the handsome man’s clothes and left the room.