William's Hoot Loop

William’s owls all turned to look at him at once. Gretchna, the youngest, and smallest one, dropped her dinner in her effort to put him back in her field of vision. The half-eaten sandwich vaporized as it hit the stone from the heat radiating off the floor in the center of the room. For 43 hours now they had all been waiting, stuffed in the cold and cramped room for this exact moment. Now that it was here, they were not about to miss it and have to wait another 25 years.

It was storming outside, as it had been the entire time they had been waiting. There were flash flood warnings all throughout this section of the coast, which had gone completely unheeded by the occupants of the small building. They were performing what had become referred to as the “science experiment” in the ruins of an ancient lighthouse; located on the highest point of ground on the small chain of islands just off the coast, it had been partially restored for this very purpose.

It had quickly gone from cold to hot in the small room. Four out of the five owls flew up to the third tier of perches near the ceiling to get further away from the heat source in the middle of the floor.

The spot went blindingly bright for just a second, then dimmed. After a moment it repeated and then pulsed a few more times. As it did, it sank into the ground, bubbled up a couple of feet, burst, and sank back into the ground again. This sequence also repeated as the throbbing light continued to pulse before it rippled, popped, and then gurgled.

As the sporadic spattering of rain sounded loudly on the wooden roof and windowpanes, lightning struck a tree couple miles away, lighting up the cloaked figure hurrying to get into the small stone building. The thunder roared across the old lighthouse and continued booming onward across the bay as it covered up the splashing sounds of the person’s footsteps in the mud puddles running to the door. When they burst through the broken door in a spray of mud and rainwater four owls screeched and all but fell off their perches while the fifth, and smallest, immediately flew down without a sound and landed on the man’s outstretched arm. He pulled her close to his side and stroked her softly, rain dripping on her from his nose and chin.

Looking around the room he could see that the rain was leaking through the old and mostly destroyed windowpanes, washing away much of the runes and symbols scrawled on the walls in charcoal underneath them. He put Gretchna on the lowest tier of perches before removing his cloak and throwing it at the glowing spot. It disappeared in a cloud of steam and smoke. There was nowhere to hang it, and he wouldn't be needing it when he was going anyways.

He walked through the cloud of steam and pulled from his waistcoat his old tobacco pipe and a stack of scrolls. He ripped the corner off one of the scrolls and rolled it up before sticking it in the white-hot spot and then lighting his pipe with it. As he puffed on it a few times to get it glowing he picked up Gretchna off her perch and put her on his shoulder.

Without looking up from his writings William grunted a hello from the table in the corner of the room covered in scrolls, papers, charcoal, and clay jars full of old blood.

“You’re just in time,” William stated.

“I know,” The old man replied.” Many of your current affairs have been set straight… You’re welcome,” He continued.

He pulled smoke from his pipe again and walked right to the edge of the glowing spot. As he did so, it instantly stopped bubbling, fell silent, blackened, and opened up to reveal what appeared to be dead space. He gazed into the seemingly bottomless hole gaping before him and with a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes he said, “It was good to see you. Be good, and goodness will come to you as well.”

He braced himself and William yelled “WAIT! I need to tell you, I-“

The old man disappeared into the hole before William could finish the sentence. Gretchna flew up around the perimeter of the room, and as the other four owls watched in silence, she dove down into the hole after him.

“DAMN!” William shouted and reached his arm down into the black expanse.

Just as he did, the gaping maw closed itself up around his arm at the elbow, and the white-hot molten rock bubbled and popped, spraying the left side of his face. He screamed and threw himself backward, hitting his head on the wall. Dazed, he rolled around on the floor, moaning and crying.

Somehow, he got himself to his feet with his left arm gone at the elbow, a cauterized stump. His face, also half gone, would have been showing his skull had it not been so burnt and blackened.

He stumbled to the table in a panic and in so doing tripped over himself and hit the table hard in his midsection, knocking the wind out of himself. The jars fell, shattering on the floor and splattering their coagulated contents on his feet. With his remaining hand shaking from the shock of it all, he grasped a blunt chunk of charcoal and began scribbling on the wall. He drew a shaky line down the wall, across the floor and to the spot.

He closed his eyes and waited, mind racing, for what felt like an eternity. Then, when it darkened and opened back up again, he breathed a sigh of relief and threw himself down into the darkness.

The four remaining owls looked at each other and hooted in unison from the safety of their third- tier perches

The gentle tendrils of nothingness held his weightless body in a moment of forever.

William opened his eyes when he heard the familiar sound of pattering rain and the sharp crackle of thunder. He was at the table in the corner of the room, scrawling on his scrolls with a piece of charcoal. He saw the clay jars back atop the table, intact. He dropped the charcoal and fell to his knees grabbing for his face. It was intact as well. He looked at his restored arm with both good eyes. He opened and closed the hand a few times. He felt it tingle and poked it in several places with his other hand.

A cloaked figure burst in through the broken door in a spray of mud and rainwater.

“You’re just in time.” Said William.