Shining among Darkness

By
WingzemonX

Chapter 04.
Too dangerous

The next morning, Matilda woke up very early, stood up as fast as she could for two cups of coffee in the restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel, and then poured a little more in a thermos for the road. She climbed into her rented vehicle and drove north along with the first rays of the sun. It would be a long and tiring journey of a few hours, in which she would have no other companion but the radio and her thermos.

The original route she had planned the day before, before her call with Eleven, was to head straight to Port Townsend, through Portland, and perhaps stopping for a few moments in Olympia to rest and have a more real breakfast. That only route would end up taking probably between four and five hours. Once in Port Townsend, she would have to wait and get the ferry would take her to Moesko Island, where the Morgan Horse Farm was located. Taking into account the wait and the time of the tour, in the worst scenario she expected to be there between one and two p.m.

But, as we said, that was her original route; the one she had in mind when she got up that morning, was a new one. It included in Tacoma, instead of taking the northwesterly direction to Port Townsend, deviated towards the northeast, toward Seattle. It would take several additional hours. She had planned to go to Seattle after going to Moesko, but the call with Eleven had made her feel that going there must be a priority.

According to her information, for three years Cody Hobson, an old friend of her from the Foundation, worked in Seattle as a biology teacher in a middle school. Cody also had the Shining, but one unique, very different from hers, very different from Eleven's, and very different from primarily any other that she had known until that moment; but, surprisingly, maybe a little similar to Samara's, or at least that's what she theorized. That is why she had considered it a good idea to talk to him, especially taking advantage of their relative closeness. But now perhaps he could also shed some light on what had Eleven so worried, or what was the other experience she was supposed to need. And even if he couldn't, with his different perception thanks to his Shining, she was sure he would be helpful.

At Olympia, Matilda stopped at a Denny's for breakfast, rest and stretch her legs. She took advantage of the stop, which she considered was already at a prudent hour to call, to communicate with Mr. Morgan, and move the time of their meeting to later, after four or five; there didn't seem to be any problem. She also tried to communicate with Cody so as not to be surprised him, but apparently, the last number she had of him was not the most recent one. Matilda sent a message to Eleven, asking her to pass on his new phone number if she had it. For her good luck, yes, she did; to her bad luck, she answered her when was on the road again, and she couldn't read it until an hour later when was about to cross the Seattle limits. And even so, when she tried to call with that new number, the phone rang, but of the three attempts she made, none of them got an answer.

Matilda stopped for a moment to think. What if she had made that detour in vain? What if Cody was not even in Seattle? Maybe he had gone to Alabama to visit her mother, and she had ventured without even knowing.

It took her a few minutes to decide, but in the end, chose to go to the school when he works and take the risk. When she arrived, she showed up at the Principal's Office as a colleague of Cody Hobson, whom she was looking for an urgent personal matter. For her fortune, they informed her the person she was looking for was present and teaching at that time. That made her sigh in relief. They offered to send him to call, but she opted to go on her own to see him in the classroom, foreseeing the recess time was near. Although they were reluctant in the beginning, her very effective power of conviction gave her the way.

Matilda followed the indications given to find Room B of the seventh grade, whose door was open. When she was a few inches from the entrance, she could hear, and clearly recognize, the teacher's voice inside.

"... and this particular class of monarch butterfly is one of the longest species," pronounced the soft and somewhat playful voice inside the classroom "since they can get to live for eight to nine months."

Matilda stopped near the doorframe, and peeked subtly, trying not to call attention at all. Standing in front of the room, she saw a young man, somewhat thin, with blond hair, slightly long and straight, with a tuft combed to the right, which completely covered his forehead. His dun eyes peered out from behind a pair of thin-framed glasses. He wore an interesting outfit, of blue jeans, a green checkered shirt, and a casual brown coat, which, thanks to his complexion, made it look like it was bigger than it really was. Matilda could not help but smile a little; a pair of boots and a hat, and he would have the typical attire of a young Alabama cowboy, though his remarkable lack of facial hair would not help him to secure that appearance.

His old friend Cody looked just as she remembered him; his somewhat boyish face made him look considerably younger than he really was. But few knew that beneath that squalid and seemingly feeble appearance, one of the most powerful possessors of the Shining with whom she had had the opportunity to cross himself was hiding, as well as one of the most intelligent.

Matilda stayed outside, just listening to the rest of his lesson until the bell rang.

"This period may sound short," continued the young professor, looking with great emotion at his students, "but it is not so much if we consider that the average lifetime of a monarch is..."

He paused for a long time, and turned to the class, waiting for someone to complete his sentence on his own initiative. However, what was found was only silence.

"I'll give you a clue: I said it fifteen minutes ago."

It took a while longer to show some reaction until a girl in the center of the classroom shyly lifted her hand.

"Four weeks?" She questioned, unsure.

"If we only count its time as a butterfly, yes. If we consider its entire life cycle, since it is an egg, we would be talking about four to eight weeks, maybe up to ten. But I'm rambling."

Cody stood right in the center of the board, took a blue marker and began to write some facts about it while continuing with his explanation. The children, for their part, wrote in their notebooks everything they considered relevant.

"These monarchs of the Methuselah generation, are a very unique case. Not only for the fact that they live longer than the others, but it seems that they MUST" he said with particular emphasis on this word, "to do so. You see, as I had told you, the monarchs, with their lives so ephemeral, mainly live only and exclusively for the survival of their species. They born, reproduce, and then die, in that simple order without more or less. When winter arrives, they need to travel south, to look for warmer lands, from Canada to central and southern Mexico. But having such short lives, how could they make this long journey? How could they survive all those months? Logic would tell you that their destiny is to die under those circumstances and the species would become extinct."

He paused a little, and turned back to the class, grinning from ear to ear with enthusiasm.

"But that's when these little ones come into action." he pointed out with great emphasis as if he was about to reveal a secret surprise. "It is as if nature itself were a conscious being, and knew exactly what it does. Because just when autumn arrives, when the cold begins, the generation born in these moments, is born with the ability to last much longer than their ancestors. And in this way, they can carry out the incredible task of making the long journey to the south, survive all those months, and then return home, to make way for the next generation, something that would be almost impossible otherwise. If we put it in perspective, it is as if you had a child, and this child was born with the capacity to live more than five hundred years. And everything, only to last the species. As if that child was born with a special and unique gift, with the fate of using it to ensure that his descendants survive. To make sure that our species live a generation more.

All the children, plus Matilda in the hall, listened to that part of the story with great interest. But it was only the young psychiatrist who got the full message of what he was trying to convey at that point. Did he expect that perhaps a particular child among his audience would understand it too? Or did he just throw the comment into the air, like a net waiting to catch something? Of course, it could just be a coincidence.

"Nature, from this point of view, is quite wise," the professor concluded. "We are all born with a purpose, although it is not always so clear which is..."

The bell rang at that moment, cutting off Cody's words, which still seemed at least to have been able to get to the point. The boys, impatient, began to store all their things with some haste.

"Remember the essay for next week. Play well, enjoy your recess."

Some of the children responded with a small yes, but most of them went to the door of the room sooner rather than later. When they went out into the hall, some of them looked curiously at Matilda standing outside, who only smiled and greeted them in a friendly way; a few returned the greeting in the same way.

Once the room was wholly emptied, at least of students, Matilda took the liberty of finally entering. Cody had his back to the door, picking up his books and notes from the desk.

"Excellent class, teacher," Matilda exclaimed in a lively tone, which took the blond boy by surprise. "Although the story of the Methuselah Monarchs I liked the first ten times you told me, I love that new final turn that you added. Inspiring"

There was a playful tone, almost sarcastic in his words, but that did not make them false.

Cody turned quickly to the door when he heard her, and his face was filled with astonishment to see her there. However, this astonishment did not take long to become joy.

"Matilda! What an incredible surprise!" he exclaimed enthusiastically and immediately approached her with outstretched arms. The young brunette did the same so both could give each other a friendly hug.

"I'm sorry to get this way," the visitor apologized, once they were released. "I wanted to call you by phone, but it was impossible."

"I'm sorry..." Cody extended his hand to the desk, grabbing his cell phone and taking a quick look at his screen. "I always put it in silence when I am in class. But it's been so long; four years at least. What brings you to Seattle?"

"I'm dealing with a case of the Foundation in Oregon, near to Salem, which is getting a bit complicated. I thought, and Eleven also agreed with me, that you could help me with some things. If possible, of course."

"Of course yes," he did not hesitate to answer, smiling widely at his old friend. "Anything for you, and for Eleven."

Matilda also smiled, happy to see that the boy she met maybe twelve years ago was still the same kind boy she remembered, with the same positive and candid vibe around her. Although there were some subtle differences. She reminded, for example, always being noticeably taller than him, but at that moment, even with his heels, they seemed to be in quite similar statures. The glasses were also new, but they still looked great with their style. And not to mention the notorious security that transmitted when teaching. Although of course, perhaps talking about a subject that was as passionate as the butterflies, helped a lot in that.

While Cody continued to collect his things, she gave herself permission to take a seat at one of the chairs in the front row. Although it had not been that long since the end of his doctorate to say that it brought her nostalgia for when she was a student, it gave her a somewhat strange feeling. She looked thoughtfully at the whiteboards, with the data that Cody had written on them with down on them. Irremediably to his head came some memories, already distant, of his own days of elementary school. Of course, back then the boards were green, and they used chalks.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she only reacted when Cody began to erase the data about the Methuselah Monarchs.

"I do not know if I ever told you," she began suddenly, "but for a long time during my childhood and puberty, my future goal was to be a teacher."

"As your adoptive mother was, right?

"She still is. Although now she is more dedicated to being principal."

"And why did not you become it at the end?"

Matilda remained pensive for a while. It was a good question that she sometimes asked herself, but she did not have a concrete answer yet, but perhaps several that complemented each other.

"I don't know," she whispered slowly, more to herself than to the boy in front of her. "I guess it was just the turns that life gives."

When Cody finished erasing, Matilda stood up again, and approached to the professor's desk, with her briefcase in hand. She took out without waiting for the file that was assembling Samara's case, both the information Dr. Scott had given her, plus the info she got from her own sources. And, of course, the one she had been collecting in those past three days; it looked quite bulky, but even so she needed the information that was stored directly on her computer.

"Is the term Projected Thermography familiar to you?" Matilda asked. Cody just stared at her, with confusion in his eyes. "If not, don't worry. It is not very known. It is a theoretical psychic ability, which is based on being able to translate a mental image on some solid surface. It is mainly related to photographs and videos made to the user, but it is also presented on paper or practically any space.

Matilda opened the file and took out several X-rays, or at least that's what they looked like, and placed them on the desk. These were five. Cody sat in the chair behind the desk, adjusted his glasses, and looked at them. Although they seemed like X-rays, what exactly they were projected was not clear. They were not from the bones of a person, that was obvious. They seemed to be some kind of strange drawings, reflected in the acetate as flashes of light. In one, what appeared, at first sight, appeared to be a toy horse, floating on waves of the sea. In another one, he could see someone's feet, covered with boots, and below, apparently buried underground, what appeared to be a doll with syringes and nails in it; a pretty scary sight. In another, there was a tree with large branches on a horizon, and in another the silhouettes of several toys.

Cody was more than intrigued by what he saw.

"Do you say that someone captured these images with its mind?" he asked curiously, looking at Matilda again.

"A twelve-year-old girl, to be exact. According to what doctors told me, it is what appears every time they try to take an X-ray of any part of her body, as if instead of projecting their bones, what she is thinking does."

Cody's right eyebrow arched, as a sign of suspicion, forming an almost comical gesture on his face.

"And, do you think it's about that Thermography you mentioned a moment ago?"

"Yes, and no," Matilda answered, something eclectic. "Although the doctors who examined her first are using this term, I am thinking that it is something much more complicated than that. She can not only capture these images on radiographs or physical surfaces like these; she can also do it in the minds of people. She did it with her mother unintentionally, causing her to see things that have been dragging her to madness. And apparently she also did it with the horses of the ranch where she lives, making them go crazy, and many of them jumped into the sea.

"Jumped to the sea? Hey, I think I read something about that." As a biologist, it was understandable that an incident like that would get his attention. "They said in the newspapers that the reasons were unknown, or not?"

"For them perhaps, but for their parents, it was clear from the beginning what or who had been. She is able to create really lived images, and implant them in people and animals, sometimes without realizing it, provoking on them obsessive reactions, and sometimes even violent ones."

"Does she have telepathic qualities?"

"Yes, but as far as I've seen, quite a few. These are more sensations and small flashes that come to her suddenly. And I know, it's a contradiction. Logic would say that someone who could alter a person's mind in such a way, should have extraordinary telepathic abilities, but it is not like that, or at least she has not shown it. And you know as well as I that every Shining is very different. So, we couldn't judge it like a ruler carved in stone. Besides, it seems to me that she has not shown everything she is capable of doing. It's foreboding, but I think she can do many more things with her abilities that we still don't know, including herself."

Cody did not respond with words, but his expression showed that he didn't disagree with these statements, or at least had nothing to deny them. He put his attention back on the X-rays, looking at them with great interest. Some of those images were really strange; hard to believe that they had come from the mind of a child. Although, if someone knew the horrors that could hide in the head of a small child, that was him.

"What do you think?" Matilda questioned, somewhat anxiously. "Could it be something similar to your ability?"

"I'm not sure," the professor replied, not taking his eyes from the images. "The truth is, I don't think anyone has seen anything like it before, not even Eleven."

That statement left Matilda almost immediately stunned.

"Why you say that?"

Cody remained thoughtful. What was it that occupied his mind so much? After almost a minute of silence, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He stood up, walked to the door, and hurried to close it, locked inside.

"There is something you must understand about my Shining," he said with a somewhat serious tone, as opposed to the lively state he had moments ago.

Suddenly, he clasped his hands in front of his chest and carved his palms. He closed his eyes for a moment and then when he opened them again, he separated his palms by extending them to the sides, and from among them came a small and bright blue butterfly, sharp, that fluttered its wings in the air, until it was placed above their heads. But it was not the only one. Instead, it was followed by dozens equal, who began to fly around the room with complete freedom.

Matilda looked at them all with admiration, but not with surprise.

"When I materialize a thought in the environment," he continued explaining, "it lasts only until I stop thinking about it, or until I stop focusing on it. After that, it vanishes, like a curtain of smoke; as if it had never been here really."

One by one, all the blue butterflies began to disintegrate, like losses in a bluish haze that stretched everywhere. In a matter of seconds, all the butterflies vanished; in effect, as if they had never been there.

Cody's Shining was unique in its kind: it gave him the ability to materialize his thoughts and dreams in his environment, and manipulate it at his disposal. But not as simple intangible illusions, not as mere mirages; what he projected, really became real, at least for the period he decided. To Matilda, that ability had always seemed quite incredible, as well as beautiful. However, it could also become frightening, under certain circumstances. According to Eleven and Cody himself, it was quite difficult to control and maintain in a conscious state, but it became a hundred times more effective while he slept; but, consequently, more uncontrollable.

"It's the same when a telepath with illusionist skills, projects an image in the mind of a person; likewise, it only lasts until the user stops it, and after that, it also vanishes. They are just ideas, you understand me? Temporary images that we form in our heads, and then externalize. But this..."

Cody retook one of the x-rays and placed it against the light to see it better.

"These images are not temporary. They remain, they remain in the physical world, although the user is not even present. And if this happens with the images on the acetate, it should be the same with the minds of the people. In other words, the images she implants in their minds..." He made a slight reflective pause, "they never disappear. If she did this to her mother, the damage that she has done..."

"It could be permanent," Matilda concluded, anticipating the point Cody wanted to reach; he nodded, affirming his suspicion.

They both remained silent, digesting their resolution. Matilda had already considered it beforehand, but the fact that Cody confirmed it, made it even more real. The atmosphere in the room became somewhat gloomy at once. Was that what worried Eleven so much? What made her feel that maybe she was not ready to deal with something like that? It was probable, but it did not make clear to her what exactly she meant that this ability could be of a "different nature."

While she was meditating about it, Cody noticed another image that Matilda brought with her, but instead of being in an acetate, it was in a cardboard painting, of legal size. Cody took it, and took a look; the same tree, or at least one very similar, to that of the x-rays, was there embodied.

"She did that too?"

"Yes, just yesterday. I asked her to do it to corroborate that she was capable of forming the images consciously, or if only involuntarily. Apparently, it was the first option, although I don't think she understands very well how she did it."

Cody looked curiously at the strange drawing. He looked at it very closely, and also carefully moved his fingers over the surface of the cardboard, precisely where the tree strokes were. Something caught his attention immediately.

"It's strange. In the radiographs, this is not so remarkable, but here you can see that the drawing is not on the cardboard, or inside of it: it is in it as if it had been prefabricated with the image. As if it were part of the same material."

Hearing that, Matilda turned to see him quickly with her eyes wide open, but Cody didn't notice immediately.

"But the only way I can think that could be possible is that..."

"The cardboard has been modified at the molecular level!" Matilda hurried to add, noticing a remarkable emotion in her voice that took Cody by surprise. A small giggle followed, almost nervous. "How I did not realize before? The only way you could modify the image on radiographs is by manipulating the x-ray photons that reach the film so that the desired image is formed. That must have been my key. On cardboard and on paper it is the same. If you manage to modify the molecules of the material, they can be rearranged in a certain way, and this is how you get these images to appear. That's why the images last. He does not project them with his mind, his mind makes them physically, in the full extent of the word."

"Actually, it makes sense now that you mention it," Cody added, already a little infected by the emotion of his friend. "People often see the thoughts and memories of people as abstract and intangible; in other words, as something non-physical. But in biological terms, all this is based mainly on cellular and chemical compositions of our brains. That means..."

"These can equally be manipulated at a molecular level, such as cardboard or photons!" Matilda exclaimed more forcefully than she intended. "It is not strictly projected thermography in the conventional sense, but an entirely new skill: the ability to modify the minds of people on a physical level, not abstract as telepathy. That should be her primary skill, and the images that are captured on the x-rays and on paper, are only results derived from it, not the other way around as Dr. Scott and his team assumed. They went by the theory of thermography and did not see beyond, and I almost fell into the same!"

"But all this is merely speculative," the young professor hastened to point out. "It is impossible to know if in truth its ability is as we suppose, mainly because there is no precedent similar to this. It isn't telepathy, or telekinesis, or anything we have interacted with before. But also, if in fact, it is something like what you say, we would be talking about a skill too dangerous," he put particular emphasis on that last part. "Probably, with enough concentration and experience, it could completely destroy a person's mind, turn it into a vegetable, or even brainwash it entirely and turn it into another person. Or something like the Inception movie, but much more aggressive."

"Are not you exaggerating?" Matilda muttered, somewhat skeptically, to which Cody simply shrugged.

"Maybe, but I'm just going to the greatest extreme that comes to mind. I heard some other guys at the Foundation say that if they focused enough, Eleven was capable of causing a stroke to someone. Obviously, I never saw her do it, but..." He seemed to decide at the last moment not to continue with his prayer. "But, not everything has to be bad. In the right way, a skill like this could also be very beneficial. It could help people with some type of brain injury, disorders in neuronal development, or even help correct behavioral problems or dementia. Who knows? Perhaps also correct permanent commas, or cure emotional traumas."

"Probably," Matilda agreed. "But I think it will be a long time before they allow someone like her to make a psychic version of brain surgery to someone."

"Maybe. But what I try to say in the end is that, if it is what we think, it can bring many good things... but also many bad things." He stared at Matilda at that moment through the thin lenses of his glasses. "You must be very careful. What happened to her mother, can happen to you."

"Don't worry," she hurriedly responded, unconcerned. "Do you forget the protection that Eleven placed on us against this type of attack when we were children?"

"No, but remember that this might not be a normal psychic ability. Also, I remember that Eleven told us that this protection was more for long distance attacks so that no one could detect us or affect us from afar. And she also said to us that the closer we were, the less effective would it become. And you will be pretty close to this child."

Matilda remained silent, remarkably thoughtful. Actually, she didn't need Cody to mention it to her: she was fully aware of it. She had always used the excuse of that supposed protection as sustenance, to make her mother not care about her, and partly to give herself self-confidence in her work. But now, maybe it was not going to be enough.

Eleven had told her that this case seemed particularly dangerous to her, and now it was hard to pretend that she didn't think she could be right. Matilda could accept without a problem that Eleven was right; in fact, since her adolescence, she had become used to it. But what she couldn't stand, would give the reason to Dr. Scott and his fears, although these no longer seemed so irrational.

He sighed wearily and sat down again at one of the desks.

"I had thought to ask you to accompany me in a session so you could meet this girl, and give me your opinion more first hand; especially about her shining. But I will understand if, after all this, you prefer not to get involved so directly."

"Don't worry, I'll do it with pleasure," Cody hurried to answer, taking Matilda a little by surprise. "As I said, I would do anything for you... And for Eleven!" He added quickly, almost nervous.

Matilda could only let out a small giggle, which she tried to disguise, but it still made the boy's cheeks flush a little.

"What's the girl's name?" Cody asked quickly, trying to change the theme.

"Her name is Samara, Samara Morgan."

Cody's face formed a strange grimace of confusion.

"Morgan?"

"Yes. Something happens?"

"No, nothing. It's just that Morgan was the name of my mother... my biological mother," corrected quickly. "What a coincidence. Maybe she's my relative."

Looking back at Matilda, he noticed that her face had become grave, so much so that for a moment he came to think that he had said something that had annoyed her. But before Cody could ask her what was wrong, she pronounced...

"No, I don't think she is."

Cody just looked at her, confused by that strange reaction.

END OF CHAPTER 04

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

—The character of Cody Hobson or Cody Morgan is based on the child protagonist of the movie Before I Wake of 2016, now around twenty-five years-old, in contrast to the eight he had in the film. Therefore it is taken that the events of Before I Wake occur several years earlier than originally. Cody's skills will be based entirely on those exposed in the film, but perhaps with some slight adjustments to give them more explanation.

—The explanation given in this chapter to the psychic abilities of Samara Morgan are mostly creations of my own imagination since, in their respective films, it is never explained in a very detailed or explicit way how they work. Throughout this story, this theme will be played frequently and will continue to be explained.