Schemes of a Mad God | Prologue

"The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure that you seek." -Joseph Campbell

It's 4am: the slight echo of an alarm coats my ears and plunges my vision into blackness. I reach for the light switch and hear the rattle of my phone vibrating. My legs slug through the weariness of my mind; I'm half awake..

My alarm vanishes and the bright blue glow of my Samsung goes dark. I leave the light switch and drop my head to the pillow. I choose sleep, at least for a few more minutes...

Silence turns to pain as my phone goes off again.. this time a different blare.

"Who the fuck is calling me this early?" I grumble..

The Caller I.D. reads Sheen...my younger brother.

"Hello..?" I mutter..

"Where are you?!" he retorts..

"I'm at home, where else would I be this early?"

"Look.. don't get pissed. Me and Troy just need a ride back from Eerie.."

"Are you bobsledding on Lake Eerie again? This is bullshit Sheen!"

"I didn't even wanna come out here, but I had to.. I had to see it!"

"What does that even mean? "

"I had to see it..."

"See what Sheen?!"

"I had to see the lights in the lake, the faces under the ice..."

"Why do you always do this? I'm coming for you guys, stay warm for a half hour."

"We've got jackets, we'll be at Edgewater Park. Thanks bro.. love you."

I hung up without reciprocation...but he knows I love him, hell he's got no one else. My brother's 17 so I forgive his nature, but I'd be lying if I said his adventures didn't take a toll. It's hard enough getting gasoline in a Cleveland winter, but now I've gotta pick up two teenagers who think they've discovered the Northern Lights.

No time to shower.. I reach for the essentials. Coat, keys, boots.. I straddle the front seat of my Audi and I warm the beast. It takes around three minutes for the engine to get primed for frozen weather; I leave her purring in the driveway as I spark a cigarette. This car was the first thing I had ever earned in this city, and it damned sure won't be the last.

I slam the driver's door as I slide into reach of the pedals.. nice to see the gas not on empty for once. I reach for the phone while looking for an ashtray. I call little bro: Two rings, three rings... no answer.

Again.. Two rings, three rings... No answer. I step on the gas a bit more urgently as my blood pressure rises...

"This kid is too much.." I whisper to myself.

A text comes in, the vibration zings my thigh for only an instant. I pick up the phone while ashing my cig into yesterday's drink of choice. The text reads as coordinates: 41.4903° N, 81.7355° W. This is from Sheen's phone, but why coordinates and not an address?

I open Google Maps and type the digits in... no need to respond if he's not gonna pick up the phone. I'm doing 80 on the highway, and I realize more and more that Cleveland truly is hell frozen over. I speed down Highway 2 and I turn up my favorite of classics: the Ninth Symphony...

I listen and forget the tribulations of present; Beethoven is my guide. The love, angst, fear, and bravery of a man who could create music without hearing it inspires me to indescribable levels... The piano, the strings...the humanity.

A half hour gone to the music, and I arrive. Edgewater is the beachfront to Lake Eerie, at least on the Ohio side. Kids come here all the time to swim in the Summer, and to sled in the winter.

Nearly 9am and still dark... I can't see the snow too well, but I can feel it. I pull up the text and recheck the coordinates...

"This is the place.." I groan, "so where is he?"

I call Sheen again, it's ringing... and I can hear his phone in the distance.

"Sheen!? You there!?" I scream into the empty basin..

I start running towards that familiar ringing, it becomes clearer as I head East... towards the water itself..

"Sheen stop playing around it's time to go!"

It's dark now, I can't even see my car 100 feet away. I keep calling and heading towards the ringing until the reverberation is right under my feet... The phone glows bright blue through the dark and icy crevasse, I pick it up...

I sit solemnly in the sand pit now frozen over, and whisper to the sky...

"Where are you brother?"

Source Image Credit: 1 [The Extraction of the Stone of Madness, Hieronymus Bosch, Oil on Board, 1494]