The Place He Was Always Heading (Part 2)

Part One Part Three

Things have only gotten worse since I posted about my grandfather's overwhelming desire to move towards a specific place and how, years after his disappearance, I had suddenly started to feel the same pull.

Upon arriving home from my wandering, I began to set up a protection plan to keep myself from accidentally wandering off again. I set up my "find my phone" so my wife could log on and check where it was, as long as I had it on me, and gave her all my bank cards so I would be limited in how far I could drive. I kept just a few dollars in emergency cash on me, and never filled the tank of the car more than half full.

I also visited my grandmother to get the notepad my grandfather had kept so meticulously before his disappearance.

She was crushed to hear the news that I was now suffering from the same affliction. She always felt responsible for Grandpa pushing to solve what was going on. Having it happen to me, and so much younger than Grandpa was when it started, was almost too much to bear. Getting his notebook from her was an endeavor, but she knew it was probably my only chance to avoid the same fate.

Honestly the notepad was frightening, and made me wonder if there was something wrong with his mind at the end. There were a few useful clues, like a man who stared out of a house window nearby and was always there when he passed, but most of it was filled with ravings about some dark force calling to him from the distance, and dreams that seemed ripped from a Lovecraft novel.

At the end there was a link to a website that I went to, and was shocked to find a small but active forum of people interested in this issue. Many of them seemed to have relatives who had the same problem, though a few seemed to suffer from it themselves, and still others wanted to know how they could acquire it themselves (the internet is a strange place).

I posted an introductory message about my grandfather and myself and decided to check out the house he mentioned.

When I got there I could tell something was off. Heavy shutters covered all the windows save for one upstairs, and in it sat a man, staring at me.

I walked up to the front door and noticed a large padlock on it, on the outside. Whoever he was, he was locked in. I rang the bell until the man came down and opened a small slat on the door we could speak through.

He did not look well, his skin was pale and he smelled sick, almost like a bitter mix of rot and medicine.

Before I could say anything he spoke, “It took your grandfather and now it will take you.”

I stared at him in shock, “how do you know who I am?”

He grinned. “I had myself locked in here 22 years ago when the call got too bad. I have food delivered through a package slot to survive, but now it tells me things. I recognize others who feel the call."

“How can I stop it?”

At this he laughed so hard he doubled over, wheezing in a sick way. “You can't stop it, I live along the path now. I watch people like you and your grandfather struggle with it. But it takes you all in the end.”

“What is it?”

His demeanor changed at that question. “Ask the followers, not me. The glimpses I catch in my dreams of their dread god are enough.” He slammed the slat we spoke through shut at this point, and refused to open it again. I rang the bell for ten minutes before giving up.

I returned home at this point and logged onto the website, seeing that I had a few private messages. Two were from some sort of support group nearby that helped people with this problem asking if we could meet to talk. I was relieved for the help and was about to reply when I decided to read the third message.

THEY ARE NOT A SUPPORT GROUP, DO NOT TELL THEM WHERE YOU ARE

I responded and learned that Maureen had lost her mother and sister to this thing and now was struggling with it herself. Worse, there were people who frequented this site who were in some sort of cult, and believed it was their job to ensure people followed through on their urge to move towards this... thing.

We got to talking and I learned a lot from her. She had narrowed down the location to a desert town (that I will not mention by name), and had contemplated going multiple times, though she was afraid of travelling there by herself. She had even developed a meditation practice that seemed to help cut down on the strength of the pull she felt.

I went to work the next day feeling more hopeful than I had since things started. Maybe I could figure this out with some help, or at least I could control it. I drove home feeling great.

Until I saw the lights.

My neighbor had called the police when he noticed our side door was open and the glass was broken. My wife and daughter were missing. I was questioned for hours before they were able to confirm I had been at work all day.

I sat down that night and logged onto my computer. I explained to Maureen what happened, and then noticed I had another message from the fake support group.

We have your wife and daughter. You should have come willingly. They are safe, and won't be harmed if you complete your divine quest. Bring your new friend, she has been meddling for too long.

I've got a plane ticket to Phoenix, and we'll drive from there. Maureen is meeting me at the airport. I need to figure out what this is and how to stop it, and I need to find my family.