The Dust

–Please get permission before adapting any of my stories. Thanks!

The Dust

It drifted in chaos and misery, birthed of hatred, mired in rage. There was something. From the nothing there was something, as in the beginning. It used whatever spark of fury that remained within its confused and swirling existence to try to find purchase, but all it found was dust. Yet there was something. This was new. Sensation? No. It had sensed and it had awakened. Now it raged in its prison trying to… focus? Trying to feel? Trying to… Was the sensation found in the attempt? Was there something else, or had it awakened itself in vain? It did not know. It fell back into its madness.

“Coming up next we’ve got the Fill the Bag Campaign and we’ll talk a little about the chick that’s blowing up Instagram right after Foo Fighters. Stay tuned right here, 94.5, The Buzz.”

The song began and Hannah tapped her steering wheel in time. She moved her Corolla in and out of traffic, largely ignoring the progression of distracted and intentionally rude drivers on I-10. She came this way every day and had the route down pat. Ride the feeder entrances and exits till the 610 ramps forced you to get to the left, then go all the way left and stay with the fast traffic to I-45. Interstate 45 could be touch and go, depending on whatever they decided to block with orange barrels that day, but it was normally her final slowdown before arriving at the University of Houston campus where she was a professor of anthropology.

“Hey Hannah,” said her colleague Jason, another anthropology nut, “just left a message on your desk. Someone from the toll road authority called. Said they found something.”

“Did they say what?”

“Do they ever? Just asked that you get back to him ASAP so his crew isn’t shut down for too long.”

She rolled her eyes. These contractors would just as soon smash history to bits than wait for a historian or archaeologist to come take a look. However, she’d been doing this for years and had come to know several of the Department of Transportation contractors. She understood their frustration. Still, it was a bit maddening that these guys were so uninterested in what made us who we are. She’d been obsessed with history and culture since she was a kid. While other girls were obsessed with Disney princesses, she’d pored over tomes about Cleopatra. When her peers graduated to music and boys, Hannah was studying ancient drum dance and mating rituals of long-gone African tribes. She checked her watch. She still had twenty minutes before her eight o’ clock, so she went to her office and made the call.

“This is Marc Davis.”

“Mister Davis, Hannah Harvey, U of H Anthropology. How are you?”

“Hey Hannah, thanks for calling me back so soon. I got something for you. How soon you think you can get out?”

“Uh, I guess that depends on what it is you got and where it is you got it.”

Davis laughed a little. “Sorry, got ahead of myself. Thought I told the other guy.”

Hannah picked up the Post-it and turned it over. “Nope, nothing but a phone number.”

“Okay then,” Davis replied, sounding annoyed. “We’ve got a box. It’s a crate of some sort but not like anything I’ve ever seen. If I had to bet I might say it looked like an old safe or something, but different. Whatever it is, you need to come check it out so I can get my guys back to work.”

Hannah glance up at the clock. Fifteen minutes until class. “Send me your location and I’ll be there within the hour.

It sensed. For the first time in ages, it sensed itself. Darkness. Confines. Dust. But it was no longer part of the void, and it could sense the darkness and the dust. It reached out through decades of silence to arouse its vessel, but it was of no use. The vessel was dry. Useless. Dust. Its prison infinite and unforgiving. Yet, it sensed something of itself. It waited.

“So what happened?” Hannah asked as she and Marc Davis shook hands. They’d known one another for years, as he was the foreman on many of the larger road projects in and around the city. If the excavation of an area revealed any sort of fossil or other traces of history, the transportation department was required to inform Hannah or one of her peers to have the site investigated and the items removed for study before work could commence. The two walked side by side in rubber boots through soupy mud toward an excavator that sat still, waiting for permission to move again.

As they crested the berm, Davis pointed at a tarp that was covering something in the trough. “Excavator didn’t do it. The box actually floated here from up there.” Davis pointed north. “Well, not so much floated as it was pushed by the current. Yesterday’s storm washed out the creek about half a mile up near the bridge that crosses old County Road 9. This thing had been buried up there somewhere, but I guess the flood uncovered it and brought it down stream here.” He shrugged. “We showed up this morning with it sitting in the ditch.”

Two men in hard hats walked over and removed the tarp. As Davis had described, it was a box. Roughly three feet cubed, it reminded Hannah of a shipping crate. But it was unlike any shipping crate she had ever seen.

“What do you make of it?” Davis asked.

Hannah moved closer to inspect the object. She had expected a wooden crate, but this was metal. Or at least it had a metal shell. “Looks like steel. Sheet metal of some sort. Welded shut.”

“Why do you think they wrapped it in chains?”

Hannah glanced at Davis and quirked an eye in thought. “No telling. Could be someone’s safe or vault. This used to be a rural area so it could have come from one of the few farmhouses around here.” She glanced back up the creek where the water had overtopped the bank. “Maybe it fell off a boat? We won’t know till we see what’s inside.”

“Are you going to need to set up a dig or any of that? I’m already behind schedule, and this weather’s not helping. I can’t afford to shut down for any length of time.”

Hannah looked up and down the construction zone. She was familiar with the area. She couldn’t think of anything of consequence that had gone on in these parts. She shook her head. “I doubt it.” She laid a hand on the muck-encrusted box. “This thing is not too old. Maybe a hundred years? Turn of last century? Won’t know till we see what’s inside, but it’s probably nothing. Let me get a truck out here to pick it up, and you just promise me you’ll call if anything else falls out of the mud, okay?”

Davis was visibly relieved. “This is why I call you instead of that other guy.”

Hannah smiled as she pulled out her phone to call the office.

 

Hannah and Jason stood around staring at the box, which sat on a steel workbench in the automotive department of the community college a few miles away from the UH campus. So far, their attempts to figure out what was inside had been rebuffed. X-rays had revealed little, as it seemed that the inside was lined with lead. Other techniques had proven fruitless as well. Whoever shut this thing had wanted it to stay closed and its contents hidden. Finally, the decision had been made to just cut the thing open and look inside. A man with a torch stood by as the scientists prepared their cameras and their notebooks. When everything was ready, Hannah nodded and the torch went to work.

It was slow going, as the chains and the outer steel shell proved thicker than they had originally thought. After a while though, the cutter finally made it around the whole box. They let it cool for a few minutes, then pried the lid off to reveal another steel box inside.

“Russian nesting dolls? You ever seen anything like that?” Jason quipped.

“This is certainly weird,” Hannah agreed.

After several more layers were pulled back, the welder finally hit an empty interior chamber. “We’re in,” he said, stepping back and turning off the torch, “and it’s just a bunch of dust.”

Hannah and Jason both stepped forward to peer inside. Sure enough, the box held nothing more than dust. They looked at one another and shrugged.

“Cremains, maybe?” Jason suggested. “Did we just find an urn?”

Hannah shook her head. “No clue.”

“What now, fearless leader?”

“Let’s get this stuff to the lab for testing, see what it is. Maybe some rich guy’s idea of a joke?” She looked at the ruins of the box within a box within a box, all sealed tightly, welded, and obviously meant to stay that way. Whoever did this and for whatever reason, this was an expensive project. She suddenly got goosebumps and the dread feeling that whatever they just opened should have stayed closed.

 

 

It snapped awake, fully alert now. Something had changed. Water. The dust of the vessel, its prison for so long, so desiccated, so empty… Now: Water. Life. Essence. Sensation. It was small; not nearly enough to rise, but it was something. And it rejoiced.

Once the steel was cool to the touch, Hannah and Jason set about transferring the contents of the crate to a plastic canister. There weren’t more than a few pounds of the stuff, which was surprising considering the vault had weighed more than a quarter of a ton.

“So how’s the puppy?” Jason asked absently as he used a brush to sweep up the remaining powder into a scoop.

“Not bad, not bad,” Hannah replied as she filled out the label. “He’s been pretty good with telling us when he needs to go outside, and he’s getting better with the leash.”

“How’s Freddy liking him?”

“Oh, he’s hot and cold. He’s not too much of a dog person so we have to be patient with Freddy, but me and Porkchop will work him down. He’ll come around.”

Jason laughed. “You named your dog Porkchop?”

“It was a compromise. Freddy wanted to name him Chopper because he thinks it’s funny to give small dogs intimidating names. But he’s just so roly-poly fat and cute that I wanted to call him Porky.”

Jason shook his head. “You guys are ridiculous. Y’all set a date yet?”

“We’re working on it. He’s working on it, I mean. It’s his mother that has all the demands. I’d just as soon go to Vegas and elope. So, since she wants a big wedding, he gets to plan it. I’ve got more important things to do. Like open mystery boxes full of dust.”

Jason looked at the canister and snuffled. “It’s four now. You want to get this started or shelve it for tomorrow?”

“I can’t cancel more class, and I’m not sure how much time we should waste on this thing. Let’s get it to the lab and see what it is. Shouldn’t take too long, you think?”

They covered the ruined vault with a tarp, promised the faculty of the community college that they would have it removed in the morning, then drove back to campus. Within an hour they had parceled out samples of the dust and began analysis.

“Ash. Definitely,” Jason said, marking it down, “and something else.”

“Rust,” said Hannah, examining one of the samples through a microscope.

“Why rust?”

“Put a moisture meter on that. I’m just curious,” she said.

“It’s 0.000012 percent.”

“Interesting.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Freddy recently told me that if we wanted to, we could use those hand-warmer things as dehumidifiers. They work with oxidation. The iron reacts with the oxygen and absorbs all moisture, turning it into rust. Rapid oxidation causes heat, so they use them for pocket heaters.”

“So?”

“So someone put these ashes in here with a makeshift dehumidifier to ensure they stayed dry.”

“What is going on, Hannah? Did we just let out some kind of yellow fever or something?”

“Impossible. The virus, any virus, would have been long dead by now, even without the absence of humidity. But somebody wanted to keep whoever this was as dry as possible. Maybe this was a victim of disease, and they did what they could to keep it from spreading.”

It reveled in the moisture, however miniscule. For the first time in decades, it was alive. It reached out with its limited mind and sensed the other. There were two of them. It could glean no more than that. It needed. It wanted. It was fury and thirst. So dry, still. It needed a vessel. The old vessel was dead.  Dry. Useless. The new vessel was close. It could feel the vessel move nearer. Still too weak to listen, too weak to hear the vessel. But the vessel was close. It turned inward. Concentrated. It focused on the new vessel. Too weak? Perhaps. But the new vessel was near, and it must try. From somewhere in its tortured mind came the simple command: Touch me.

“I’m going to hit the vending machine. You want anything?” Jason asked.

“No thanks,” Hannah said. “We’re almost done here, and I want to get some real food.”

“Suit yourself,” he said as he went out the door.

Hannah went back to the microscope. Ashes mixed with iron filings to make rust. To keep the ashes dry. Sealed three times and chained up and buried. It made absolutely no sense, and she had no frame of reference for it. It was an unsolved, and perhaps unsolvable, mystery. She turned the scope lamp off and peeled off her gloves when something caught her eye. Something, there in the canister full of ashes. Something glinted. Startled, Hannah paused and stared, saw nothing. But as she turned away, there it was again. She moved closer. What was that? Was it

Success! The new vessel had complied! Ecstatic, it burrowed deep into the flesh of the new vessel, thrusting and expanding, riding through capillaries and embedding its essence into the very fiber of the new vessel’s being. It was still weak, but the vessel was strong and soon its own strength would grow as it melded its mind into this body. It reveled in the fluids of its host. It had been so dry for so long. It looked through the vessel’s eyes at the dust in the canister. It felt the pain in the new vessel’s extremity where it had burrowed in. It wondered if any of its own essence was left in that dry pile of ash; if it was leaving any strength behind. It willed the new vessel to touch the ash with its other extremity. Nothing. Still…

Jason returned to the lab eating a Snickers and holding a Diet Coke. “So what you think, Doc? We any further on than when we started?”

Hannah quickly shoved her burnt hand into her coat pocket and stared at the ash for a moment before answering, “I really have no idea what to make of all this. None of it makes any sense. Could be a joke played by a long-dead prankster for all we know.” She sighed. “What I do know is we’ve been at this all day, and all we’re left with is a can of ash. I’m ready to call it quits.”

“Me too,” Jason replied. “So what do you want to do with the samples?”

“Leave them here. I’ll figure out something to do with them in the morning.”

It watched the human from behind the new vessel’s eyes. The new vessel was not aware of its presence yet. Good. It would need to draw strength, read the new vessel’s mind and memories. Learn about the world in which it lived. Then it would take control. The human removed a garment, then moved out of the chamber. The new vessel turned back to the canister of ash. Had it wished this? It did not matter. The new vessel was suddenly frightened. And fear was a delicacy. It had been so long since it fed.

Hannah heard Jason hit the exit door down the hall. Alone in the lab, there was a sudden and overwhelming feeling of being watched. She turned to look at the canister and shuddered. As quickly as she could manage, she capped the canister, picked up her notebook and purse, and then followed Jason out of the lab. Her footsteps echoed as she walked to her car, adding to her dismay. Sometimes these large buildings had a sinister feel when it was dark and the courtyards were empty. She picked up the pace. The sensation of being watched had not diminished, and the need to be away from here was bordering on panic.

“And coming up next we’ve got your Mandatory Metallica, so keep it right here. The Buzz.”

The chattering DJ gave way to a car commercial, which gave way to an invitation to join a class-action lawsuit against a pharmaceutical company. Hanna tried to ease her mind with the mundane, but it was not working. Her finger still burned. What had come over her to make her touch that specimen? She’d never made a mistake like that in her life. But at the time, it was as if she could not control herself. And why was it hot to the touch? That was weird. She looked at her finger and thumb. There was no mark or blister or any outward sign that she’d been burnt, but she could definitely feel it. The commercials gave way to songs, and Metallica kept her company the rest of her way home.

By the time she got home, it was past eleven and Freddy was already asleep. The light snoring coming from the bedroom gave her some comfort. Hannah set her stuff down and then looked in the fridge. She was famished, and also strangely thirsty. She uncapped a bottle of water and as soon as it touched her lips, she sucked it down. When it was empty she grabbed another and finished it just as quickly. Thirst momentarily slaked, Hannah went back for some food. There were various leftovers from the past few meals she and Freddy had shared. She pulled them all out and looked under their lids. Baked chicken. She began tearing the cold flesh from the bones and taking the meat down in large, raspy gulps. She opened another that contained two pork chops and finished them both in short order. She tipped a container full of roast beef and vegetables into her mouth and chewed through it like some kind of starving beast. When Hannah had finished with the beef, she guzzled down two more bottles of water.

She stared at the empty containers in horror. What the hell was wrong with her? She moved the empty Tupperware into the sink, ran some water, and poured in soap.

“Hey babe,” Freddy’s sleepy voice called from the back.

“Hey,” she answered. Oh God please don’t let him have just seen that!

“You gotta take Chopper out before you come to bed, mkay?”

“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Not five seconds later, he was snoring again.

The new vessel fed well. It had also forced the new vessel to consume water. Although the host’s body did not need the fluid, it had been so thirsty for so long that it had rewarded itself. The new vessel moved through its chamber and retrieved a small animal from a cage. What was this? Fresh meat? It could not understand why humans burnt the flesh they consumed. Stupid, stupid creatures.

It watched this development with curiosity. The new vessel attached a lead to a cuff around the animal’s neck. Then it led the animal out the door and into the grass. How quaint. The animal defecated and sniffed around a little more, then the new vessel led the animal back into the house.

So this animal was not food; it was a companion. Interesting. In a few moments, the new vessel would sleep. It would then tap into its memories and knowledge, its essence of self, and learn what it needed to know to thrive in this world. And the new vessel, in turn, would be rewarded with its own memories. So much beautiful slaughter, chaos, and agony…

Hannah dreamed of dark stars, of worlds falling to floods, boiling rain, crushing waves, cities collapsing into the sea. She saw through the eyes of a shark the size of a city bus as it attacked and sunk ships. And she saw the delicious fear in the eyes of the sailors who simply could not believe the thing that attacked them was real. She relished in the fear. Frightened prey tasted better. She was a colossal squid tearing flesh from baby sperm whales. She was a swarm of piranha peeling meat from living bone in frenzy. She was flesh-eating bacteria scourging the body of a child. She was the vessel, blessed by the master to carry it through this phase of its existence. She was nothing but flesh and fear and pain now. And she was thirsty again.

It studied the new vessel in the looking glass. Female. Good. It preferred the female of this dreadful species when it was forced to use one as a vessel. It could use the sexuality of the female to attract prey, to influence other humans. Its previous vessel had been male, and it had needed to resort to more cunning and subterfuge. This was easier. Humans were stupid, base creatures. It preferred to exploit those base urges when it could. The new vessel was young and healthy; attractive by the standards of its kind. Dark skin, light eyes, a mane of tight curls framing its face. It used the new vessel’s extremities to explore its body. The new vessel’s form was lithe and supple. Healthy. No disease. Uncorrupted. (Yet.) It was pleased with its acquisition.

Hannah awoke staring at herself naked in the bathroom mirror. Her own hands moved against her will, feeling, probing. Her left hand came up and cupped a breast, giving it a firm, almost clinical squeeze before moving to the other. Her right index finger was in her mouth, feeling her teeth and gums, stopping at her canines. She forced her eyes to meet those of her reflection. She could not move, could not speak. She was like a marionette, being controlled by some unseen force. She cried out in her mind, “What are you?”

It paused. The new vessel had awakened and was attempting to communicate. Delightful. It looked through the new vessel’s eyes and connected with itself in the looking glass. “Greetings, swine.”

In the mirror, Hannah saw the expression on her own face change from one of terror to one of malevolent glee. She tried once again to speak, but her body was not her own. She thought, “Am I crazy? Am I dreaming? What is this?”

Immediately, a dry, raspy, hacking voice replied, “No, your body and mind are in perfect order. You, vile abomination of the Creator, are my new vessel. You are my servant. I am your master.”

“You are the thing in the dust…”

Her face cocked a sardonic smile.

“The dust is that of my previous vessel. Damaged, corrupted, captured, and burnt. Abhorrent. You are the new vessel. Young. Healthy, Uncorrupted. Unburnt. Still Abhorrent.”

“What do you want?  What are you going to do to me?”

“I want to humanity to drown. I want a billion bloated corpses floating on the tides. I want to rend and tear your species, to remove it from creation like the cancer that it is. I want to spit into the face of the Creator using the lips and tongue of one of His own. I want fear and pain and ruin to reign. I want to fill the seas with your blood and shit on your bones. You stupid, vile, disgusting things…”

She felt her own blood rise as the presence ranted.

It continued, “You are my vessel. You will do my will. I control your body. You may try to resist, but you cannot. I exist in every cell of your pathetic human form. My will is absolute.

“Yet, as I am merciful, I will allow you to watch as I torture, murder, and consume other humans. You and I shall revel in their cries of fear and pain and grief. You shall not be allowed to close your eyes nor your mind to what is happening around you; to what horrors your own flesh is enacting. This is my blessing to you, Hannah Harvey.”

At the back of the house, the puppy stirred in its kennel. It needed to go outside. It let out a quick pleading bark followed by a whine. Hannah and the thing inside her regarded the sound. Hannah’s mind recoiled as the voice whispered, “Ah yes, we are a bit famished. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Freddy half awoke and glanced at the clock. He had heard Porkchop crying to be let out. It was nearly four in the morning. He listened but did not hear the dog repeat its call. Rolling over, he realized Hannah was not in bed either. Knowing her odd hours and seeing nothing amiss in his sleepy haze, Freddy fell back into a deep sleep and dreamed he was sailing on stormy seas.