I Remember It All

"Rivers, ponds, lakes and streams - they all have different names, but they all contain water. Just as religions do - they all contain truths." -Muhammad Ali

Chapter 1

Death Was Never the End

        As a man that lived without religion, I never would've expected that something as unbelievable as reincarnation could actually be true. My name is Randy Baker, at least that's my current name, just call me Nick, I've been on this earth for approximately 324 years and so far the only reason why I'm still here is because I'm stuck in my own personal limbo. 

         It all started back in 1695, I was born as Willam Essedale a soldier in the War of the Spanish Succession. I died at 42 years old from an untreated flesh wound when assaulted my a mugger, but it didn't end there! The next life I was Marcus Williamsburg the Second and I died at 42 from contracting the plague….. It's moments like that I wished I wouldn't have remembered, I could physically feel the pain of my deaths even at this moment as I type, the chills are just as severe now as they were all those years ago.

         But if there's one thing that confuses the hell out of me is how dying at 42 became a repetition, what is it about that age that renders my mortality null? To be stripped of my identity before I reach half my life span only to be branded with another. The only thing getting me by is the memory of where I left my riches, I kept every penny I've earned over the years in a safety deposit box in New York City and the key? In a chest buried in the ruins of my old home, it's not my addiction to alcohol that depresses me, it's the fact I've gone through this a hundred times like clockwork. Get the key, open the box, grab a portion of my savings to live comfortably until my demise.

           But this time I'm adding something new to my plan, to see an old friend from my life before this. Earl Donovan Jones, the only son of a bitch lucky enough to call my bluff at the poker table….. Note to self don't play poker with a witch's descendant. But even though he practically robbed me blind, he studied dark magic most of his life so he could be the only person strong enough to predict what's happening to me. At this point he's my only hope, I walk up the stairs of his old apartment hoping that he never left all these years, he better make do on his promise.

          Apartment 9 with an engraved ½ next to it, you'd think a witch would be the nerdy type but not enough to enjoy Harry Potter and not be offended. I knocked on the door in a pattern only he'd know, as I waited there patiently I started to notice everything in the building decaying. "Looks like Marty really is stingy, isn't even going to make any repairs to this dump" I said under my breath. Marty was the owner of this complex, didn't trust him but he never thought my tales were asylum crazy like the others. "What is taking him so long?" I look at my watch running low on patience as I begin to walk down the stairs, I come to a screeching halt as I hear the jiggle of a door handle. "You're late," a voice called out from inside. "Well maybe I would've been on time if you got off your lazy ass sooner." 

          I enter his room with a look of disgust as I smell something so foul it reminded me of death. "Damn Donn, when was the last time you cleaned this pigsty?" He sits down on his couch winded, "I'm an old man Nicolas, I'm not able to clean anything except my act, but you and I both know that ain't happenin', so how come it took you this long to find me?" He starts to giggle like he just made a joke, but like Will Ferrell it wasn't funny, "Well it's hard to get enough money to get a plane ticket to the city when you're a farmer in Mississippi!" I sat next to him in hopes I don't fall through the upholstery. "When we were kids, you and I threw papers at neighbors for a living and you would've made the money within two-three months, not 16 years so don't give me that crap." He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one as he tries to see what's on his TV. "Well grandpa this ain't a time where air travel is exactly cheap, and labor on a farm isn't exactly working for a corporation that'll give you a pat on the back every time you roll over in their wake."

          I take the cigarette out of his mouth and take a drag, "And the last thing you need is cancer in a stick, I need a healthy witch, not a boob on a leg with a fourth hole in his throat," he pulls out a book on his stand thicker than the English dictionary. "I've searched the necronomicon for what you are seeking and there's only one solution to your dilemma," he flips the pages to a section with a picture of a few dozen figures only a few the same shade of color, representing the same person. "The main reason this is happening to you is because you have unsettled business you never finished, and until you can settle whatever debt your soul owes to eternity you will never transcend." He hands the book to me pointing to what section explains the loop, "here's the thing Donn, I don't know what unsettled business I have! I live and I die a horrifying death at 42, that's it. I don't know why this keeps happening and you telling me this means nothing." I lay the book on the coffee table finishing my fag…. Yes I said fag, I've lived in timeframes that refers cigarettes to fags, don't you judge me. "Until you figure it out you'll be stuck living an eternity of pain and misery, and I won't be around to help you forever." 

          I dart a smirk of impatience, "that's funny, it's almost as if I didn't know that!" outraged he rose from the couch only to feel an unsettling rip of fabric, I turned around and see the couch mended with my ass, "Donn, if I bare your couch's child now…… Your witchcraft will not keep you safe.” Donn stands up and shuffles to the door, handle barely in his grasp as he replies, “Well bitching and moaning isn’t helping your case, if anything that couch will be the least of your concerns if you don’t start taking this seriously! I’m taking you to a place that might have the answers we speak of, but if you complain like a 5 year old that shit his pants so help me god you’ll wish you turned 42.” He throws open the door and continues to scurry over to the stairwell, “Man it’s no wonder why you’re crusty you’ve got no damn sense of humor.”

         We walk outside to feel the damp, cold breeze smacking us across our faces with no remorse, disgusting enough to make me think…. Why the hell am I still alive!!

        “Up ahead, in the old library.” He points at the Yorkville with an optimistic smile, “Great we went to a library… With civilians… So what exactly is the plan? We scavenge around the thousands of books, taking up enough time till you croak?” Donn ignites a miniscule flame from his fingertips as he slightly turns to face Nick, “You know me enough to know I wouldn’t screw you, if you don’t like the results I’ll gladly tell your dozens of mamas in Hell.” We pry open the doors to the library searching for whatever it is we came to find. “Come this way, I know where to go from here,” Donn explains in a whisper. As I watch my surroundings I have seemed to come across a girl with red hair… I don’t know why she seems so familiar but… It’s as if I’ve seen her before. “Here we are!” Donn exclaims. “Passageway I’m guessing?” As he helps to lift a bookshelf gathering dust as if it were untouched in quite some time. “Yes sir, this is one of the areas in New York we keep hidden to study all sorts of magic, dark magic, alchemy but hey! You probably know all that shit from Harry Potter!” pulling out what looks to be a torch, Donn struggles to light a match to ignite the flame, “yeah, yeah, yeah insult me all you want, but unlike you I don’t use matches like a damn trick, I’d say get a lighter but who knows maybe your stove top’s a little more convenient.” I flick my zippo, dousing the cloth in a blaze. “You’re lucky I don’t gun your ass right now old man.” He snatches the torch before I could say another insult, “you do something nice and get a death threat, maybe we’re related after all.” 

          We seemed to have stumbled upon a corridor that reeks of death and chloroform, I kept myself focused on a strange light is emitting from down the hall to keep my eyes averted from the rodents that screech from a distance. “Someone’s here… Keep an eye out.” Donn whispers as he crept ever so slowly, “oh don’t worry, if a rat king comes for our herbs and meats I’ll make sure to… Oof!” A large man had tackled me to the ground, placing a cold dull blade against my throat without restraint, I slowly reached for my handgun at my thigh. “I know what you’re doing little man and if you make one more move I won’t hesitate to gut you open like a trout! I don’t take kindly to trespassers.” His breath on my neck gave me goosebumps, he had been drinking…. And if this jackass wasn’t a conjuror I’d assume I’m about to be his trophy wench. “Mortals have no place in the temple of Merlin! How you even found our hideout is beyond me.” I look over my shoulder, “let me get my gun and I’ll show you who the mortal is you old buzzard!” Donn presses his foot against the geezers back to gain his attention, “brother Azahl, unless you wish to repeat your last punishment I suggest you release the Precognizant at once.” The man began to tremble as if we faced death, “You… You mean… The legend was true? Oh my dear apologies bringer of the battle of glory!” He begins to bow and kiss my boot as if I were a god to him, “Donn.... Pretty sure this dude was huffing paint....”