Tommy's job was to get wood for the fire from the box at the bottom of the cellar stairs. His mother said he wouldn't be afraid of the cellar when he got older, but now he was ten, and he hated it more than ever.

Tommy was sure something was behind the furnace. He sometimes thought he could hear it breathing back there, and he knew it was watching him. Then one day when Tommy was getting the wood, the door at the top of the stairs swung shut and the cellar light went out. ¹

A cold ripple of fear swept over him as he stood there, stock still as if frozen to the spot, when he heard a voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Come to me," said the horrible voice. "Come." Tommy tried to run up the stairs but he couldn't. He was drawn by that horrible voice and however much he tried to free himself he found his feet moving closer to it. ²

For a moment, Tommy just stood there, blinking his eyes. This could not seriously be happening. Then, as he frantically groped his hands around for the wooden banister, he heard it.

A breath. The shuddering whistle sounded like a pot of tea finished boiling, only deeper and softer.

It sent a shiver of chills up Tommy's spine, and it spread throughout his body uncontrollably, making him twitch in cold fear. ³

During his twitching, he managed to muster to his voice: "Who are you and why are you here?" ⁴

"I've always been here, dropping you hints, but you didn't figure it out," the despicable creature replied in a matter-of-fact manner. "I've watched you for years, wondering when you would figure it out. I assumed you would have by now but that's alright, this has given me time to perfect my scheme." ⁵

In an instant, Tommy's paranoia of the cellar was no longer imagined; it crossed the barrier of reality.

That matter-of-fact voice overwhelmed him with a sense of danger. Reverberating through his thoughts like a never-ending mantra was the phrase, "Scheme? What scheme?"

Tommy tried to figure out a game plan. He thought about trying to escape, but as he grappled with his odds of making it out of the cellar alive, he nixed the idea immediately.

Slowly sinking to his knees, Tommy cried, "What's happening to me? I'm only 10-years-old. And I never hurt anybody before. Why are you, the gruesome creature of the cellar scheming to get me?" ⁶

The Voice laughed. "Gruesome? No, no, I'm not gruesome ...I'm just tired. I've been around for a long, long time."

Still shuddering, Tommy whispered, "W-what d-d-do you w-want?"

Once again the Voice laughed its deep bellowing laugh. "It's not what I want Tommy ... it's what you want. Do you want to live …or die? It all depends on how well you can ... live up to my standards." ⁷

The creature then stood up. Tommy saw it. It was a stone lion; its body armor plated in stone. Its eyes were blue glowing stones.

"You are the chosen one," said the lion.

"Chosen for what? Who are you? What are you doing here?" asked Tommy.

"Come here," ordered the lion.

Tommy felt cold. His instincts told him to run so he did. ⁸

He dashed toward the great stone lion and through a portal.

"Turn!" screamed the great beast.

Tommy had no choice. He turned into a hole of darkness. ⁹

Tommy fell for a long moment into what seemed like thick, black nothingness. His screaming left his throat craving the thick air around him. He could see the glow of the lion's eyes to his right and he could feel the heat of the furnace fade behind him.

He landed heavily in a pile of tangled tree roots. Dizzy from the impact of the cold earth underneath him, he stood up and turned to the lion. ¹⁰

"Get on," the beast instructed, indicating his back with his head. He lay down, low enough for Tommy to mount easily.

Tommy hesitated. Should I get on? he wondered. How do I know I can trust him? The question was, though, how did he know he couldn't? The creature growled, impatient and Tommy made up his mind.

Cautiously, he swung a foot up and over the lion's back. As he got comfortable, he found that the lion's stone fur didn't feel like stone at all. More like actual fur. It was warm, yet unpleasant to touch. It stuck to his skin slightly. However, before he could ponder this further, the lion's legs tensed underneath them. A second later they went flying. ¹¹

Tommy rushed through the cold air on the lion's back. Below him, he saw nothing but vast amounts of debris. He examined the ruins of buildings and homes.

What is this? he thought to himself. What's going on?

As the lion continued to soar gracefully through the sky, his gleaming blue eyes glanced up at the bewildered expression on Tommy's young face.

"Rubbish," uttered the lion. "It's been nothing but since he came into power."

"Who's he?" asked Tommy.

The lion directed Tommy's puzzled eyes to a magnificent palace towering high above the ash. "He," said the lion. "And only you can stop him." ¹²

The castle stood, towering above him and the lion. Tommy felt drawn to the castle, somehow. He felt this was his home, and it had his life's meaning to come here. The lion turned his head slightly, observing Tommy's reaction. As if forewarning him, the Lion's eyes pierced him, making Tommy turn his head away from the castle.

"It looks so wonderful, doesn't it? That's what we thought about him, too, at first. Then we discovered that he was only here to destroy and take what he thinks is rightfully his; it makes us feel cold inside." ¹³

The ground began to shake and something came up from the ground. It looked like a shriveled up creature lacking eyes. The lion said, "That is one of his minions. You see what happens to them that follow him. You must not follow him."

The shriveled up creature said, "It is not as easy as you think. He, the GREAT ONE is more powerful than can be believed." The creature gave a hiss and a screech and vanished in a puff of smoke and a blowing of the wind.

The ground shook again. Standing at the door of the palace was a large man who looked very nice. "That is him," the lion said.

The man shot lightning from his fingers and sent the lion flying. He then turned to Tommy and said, "Come in. You look tired and we have much to eat." ¹⁴

"Welcome Thomas, please sit down and try some of this delicious pie." The man pointed towards a steaming apple pie.

"No, thank you," said Tommy.

"Very well. You may not know who I am, but I know who you are because I have been searching for you my entire life," he said.

"Who are you, how do you know my name, and why have you brought me here?" said Tommy.

"I cannot reveal that information at this moment, but I can tell you that you are not who you think you are," said the man coldly.

"Then who am I?" said Tommy now more frightened than ever, his knees trembling.

"You are me..." ¹⁵

"Excuse me?" Tommy said.

"You are me," the man repeated. "Well, I'm you. From the future."

"What? That's not possible!" Tommy said gaping at this strange man.

"Here, let me prove it to you...." ¹⁶

The man pulled, from his pocket, a locket.

A heart-shaped locket.

Tommy gasped. It was the same necklace his grandmother had given him a year ago before she passed away. Tommy reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the locket.

The man that was "him from the future" answered, "That lion has been trying to destroy me for years." After a long while he said, "You have two choices, Tommy. You can be on my side, or the lion's. It's your decision."

Tommy thought about it. Who was really the hero?

There was only one solution. Tommy had to give the man a test. Just to be sure it was really himself from the future. ¹⁷

Tommy just stood there. He couldn't believe this at all. He didn't want this; none of this. "If you're really me," he said. "Then let me ask you some questions about myself you should know."

The man stood there looking at Tommy with a smile on his face. What a devilish face he had. "Fine, go ahead. And don't go easy young one."

What should I ask him? What should I say? Tommy thought.

As the man stared at him, he started to feel sick. "OK, when is my birthday or what is my favorite food? And tell me something that no one else knows about me." Tommy spoke so fast that he wasn't even sure the man heard him.

He had a blank face and started to say, "Your birthday is April 18th and your favorite food is pizza. One thing that you have not let anyone know is that you are really sad. You're very angry and you will soon take it out on your loved ones. Your suppression of all these painful thoughts caused you to warp." ¹⁸

Tommy stood there not knowing what to do next. How could this stranger possibly know these things?

Then Tommy grinned and said, "You're wrong! You're wrong! I would never take anything out on my family. I love them too much to hurt them."

The stranger emitted a sound so frightening that Tommy shook with fear. "I'm sorry, child. I never meant to make you cower. Please come here and I will prove to you that you will hurt them unless you stay with me!"

Tommy approached, in an almost hypnotic way. As he reached for the stranger's hand, the doors shot open behind them and with that, a mighty roar. ¹⁹

With the roar came a blast of icy wind [that] blew the stranger backwards several feet, but, strangely, Tommy's slight figure didn't even budge.

He turned, expecting to see the bizarre lion he'd ridden to the castle but he saw instead... his mother!

She almost looked like a witch or a demon-lady. Instead of her usual jeans and rolled-up sleeve work shirt, she wore a long, royal purple velvet gown. Her hair?which Tommy had only seen pulled back into a hasty, untidy little housekeeper's bun—was long, flowing, and golden. The wind that had emanated from her also seemed, oddly, to be blowing fiercely at her, making it almost as if she was flying.

Her eyes, normally a dull grey, were as fierce and bright green as a cat's, and her normally short, unkempt fingernails had grown long and elegant, and shone as if they were painted with liquid diamonds.

"M-m-mommy?" Tommy asked tremulously. She reached out her arms lovingly, and Tommy had no hesitation in running into their safety.

As he began to run, however, he could feel the icy cold fingers of the stranger grabbing at the cloth of his shirt, but the evil gnome shrank away as Tommy heard the voice of his mother boom, "Leave my child alone!" with the voice of ten thousand women.

Tommy began to run faster than ever, determined to reach the one thing he knew for sure was real. ²⁰

The ground split open

"CRRRAAAAACK!"

A wide chasm opened between Tommy and his mother.

"Jump!" His mother screamed.

Tommy teetered on the edge of the gap. "I can't!" He screamed back.

"Yes, you can!"

The space between Tommy and his mother widened with every breath he took.

"Courage, Tommy! Jump!"

Tommy jumped, but it was too late. Is this what I was chosen for? Tommy thought as he fell into the infinite blackness. ²¹

Cautiously Tommy opened his eyes. He saw nothing but blackness and felt nothing but the stiff thrum of wings around him. Again the lion had found him, and the creature had torn him from the fate that Tommy had predicted for himself. Logic told him that certain death awaited him at the end of that fall, and the lion had saved him. The boy began to regard the lion as a savior of sorts. At least he had ended that terrifying fall, which was more than anyone else had done for him.

Fingers gripping his ride's dank fur, Tommy asked him shakily, "W-where are you taking me?" ²²

Tommy landed with a thud on the cold ground.

"Where am I?" he whispered as he gazed around. He shakily stood up.

"Don't move!" a deep voice screamed. Tommy was frozen in fear.

"W-Where are you?" Tommy managed to say.

"I'm right here. Stay still," the voice said calmly.

"Where am I?" Tommy asked the voice.

"You are in the coal pits. We work hours serving for him."

"Who?"

"Him. The Old One" ²³

"Down here we mine for coal day in and day out," said the lion.

"Why would he do something so harsh?" asked Tommy.

"Why? He has no heart, he is an evil, evil man, the old one," said the lion.

"Everyone else who works down here has hoped for him to die or for you to come. That is why you are here. To stop him and take away his power," said the lion.

"But how?" asked Tommy. ²⁴

"That is for you to find out. But for now, you should just lay low. You need to hide when I tell you, and run when I tell you," answered the lion.

"What if he catches up to me? Or finds me?" Tommy inquired.

"That is when you keep your eyes and your mouth shut. His powers of sorcery, however, may put you under his control. Then, you think of me. Call me with your mind and I will help you if I can," the lion answered. "And my name is Denz. You may call me Menz, or Lion, or anything, or maybe even nothing. I don't really care. Hop on now."

Tommy mounted himself onto Denz and held onto his mane. Denz then jumped forward into another hole of darkness he had created once before. There was darkness for a few seconds, and then there was a flood of color. It was the same barren, dull color as in front of the castle.

"We are behind the castle now. I suggest you fall asleep, because then you will have no conscious thoughts. We don't want to be detected."

"Well, I can't just sleep! I need time!"

"I can't help you with the time, but with the sleep, I can," explained Denz. He breathed on Tommy once. It was a warm, rosy-smelling breath, and Tommy slept.

This is a dream, Tommy thought. I'm not being carried anywhere by a stone lion. I don't have a future occupation as an evil sorcerer. I'm ten, and that's that!

"Exactly. About the dream part, I mean. And about the 'evil'…I'm not evil, just straightforward and stern." Tommy woke up in a daze, with his future self staring straight at him, and Denz frozen in time. ²⁵

The fierce eyes pierced into Tommy's soul.

"What will you choose, Thomas? The mangy lion or me? Your future? Your friend?" he said, with a saddened look on his face, "Will you help me rule the world in peace and happiness?"

Tommy was petrified with fear. What decision should he make?

Then he remembered something... ²⁶

He heard a piercing screech, and slowly turned towards the furnace. He took a deep breath and tried to exhale. Cautiously, he peered behind the furnace. A young girl was staring up at him with lonely eyes that were empty like the sky on a cloudless day. Her skin was milky and she had thick dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was matted to her head and was light brown, like worn out leather. Her frail frame was encased by a faded white nightgown and her feet were cold and bare. Tears had streaked her face and had rushed into her nightgown.

She whispered, "I've been watching you."

An icy feeling shot through his back like a knife. She started to speak again. "I'm going to tell you my story." ²⁷

Then, as suddenly as she appeared, the young girl disappeared, leaving Tommy alone in the darkness.

He froze. Rooted to the spot, Tommy only allowed his eyes to roam the room. Each shadow caused him to jolt in fear. His imagination went wild, coming up with all the possibilities of what happened to the lights.

"M-m-maybe we just blew a fuse..." he stuttered, "And the dog could have hit the door...I'm safe....I'm safe..."

He then felt cold wisps of wind wrap around his body, but looking around, he realized that there were no windows. The hairs on the back of his nape stood on end, cold sweat appeared on his forehead, he shut his eyes still repeating: "I'm safe...I'm safe...I'm safe..."

He began to doubt that, as he could soon hear inaudible voices around the room. They seemed to be chanting, but what?

Tommy began to shake, debating whether it was safer staying where he was, or making a mad dash for the door at the top of the stairs. He could just barely see the outline of the door, as the only light was coming from the dimly lit furnace.

The furnace. He gulped. "I'm safe...I'm safe..." He heard creaking somewhere in the room. But from where?

The creaking grew in strength; Tommy's eye fixated themselves on the furnace. The light from the embers danced across the floor. But they stopped, only for a second, as something moved in front of it.

Tommy let out a small scream. His breathing sped up, he could hear the strong, swift beating of his heart.

The chanting voices reached their crescendo, sweat was leaking out of his every pore. His stomach lurched as the shadow this time froze in front of the furnace, almost extinguishing all of the light, leaving only enough to show Tommy the outline of its contorted form.

It towered over Tommy, a good three feet. Its hands and head were disproportionate to its body, its long fingernails curled down to the floor. Something that resembled hair draped itself over the disfigured head. It let out long...low...raspy breaths. It whispered one word. One, taunting word.

"Tooommmyy...." ²⁸

Tommy fell to the floor, squatting and cupping his hands over his ears, unable to tell if the warm liquid draping his face and head like a curtain was terrified perspiration, fearful tears, or the bleeding of his ears caused by this seemingly eternal, deafening sound of the hellish voices.

"No, no, NO!!" Tommy screamed, "Just stop it!! Go away!! What do you want from me?!?!"

"Tooommmyyy," the voices echoed again, grating like nails on a chalkboard, "Do you not recognize me?"

Through his sobbing hyperventilation, Tommy strained to sift through his memory and find a match to such a hideous voice, but found none. The twisted creature outstretched a contorted limb and pointed it directly at Tommy, ominously gliding toward him. "Answer me!!" it boomed, the reverberations shaking the very foundation of the ground on which they were standing.

Tommy shrieked as the deformed creature flashed toward him in a streak of black, tattered cloth, locking its withered hand into a death grip around his throat. It cackled with glee.

"Oh Tommy," its coarse voice coaxed, emitting a vile odor from the gash in its face it apparently used for a mouth, "I'm hurt. After all I've done to help you, you don't even recognize your own MOTHER!!!"

And as if the savage demon's temper and the furnace were connected, a great flare of bright white fire burst forth from it and Tommy became engulfed in the blinding flames. Even as Tommy was hurled through the air and into the furnace, his vast horror and confusion overshadowed the searing pain from the cauterization of his flesh. It seemed as if his senses had gone into remission due to the beast's obvious lie, but a strange, concealed reason compelled him to believe it, even though he didn't want to.

As he tumbled through some unknown chasm, Tommy felt as if his last drops of sanity were being rapidly evaporated by the demonic fires. Just when he felt he could endure no longer, he hit solid ground with what seemed like a fatal thud. Teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, he arose, having no memory of what had just occurred, clutching his throbbing temples.

"Tommy?" a worried, familiar voice chimed.

"What Mom?" he replied groggily, the single, bare light bulb in the middle of the basement ceiling slightly swaying, flickering on and off. Tommy glanced at the furnace and turned around to face it. Then, he gathered all the courage his headache would allow him to muster, puffed out his chest, and started for behind the furnace. He edged his way along the ancient heater and with one swift turn of his head, looked behind the furnace. He took his hands off his eyes. He unclenched his teeth. He lifted his two-ton eyelids, and confronted… a completely empty, bare, basement corner.

After sighing out his life-long fear of something so insignificant, he called out to his mother, tired yet eager. "Hey Mom! I'm not afraid of the furnace anymore!"

"That's great honey!! Come up for supper!"

As he started up the stairs Tommy took one last look at the furnace and laughed at his now-petty former fear. The light bulb was still flickering. Just as he was reaching the top, his golden retriever trotted through the door.

"Hey boy!! Want a treat?" Tommy asked rhetorically.

And in a familiar matter-of-fact manner, his dog replied, "No I don't you bothersome dolt."

In a flood of flashbacks, Tommy's memory returned to him, causing a terrified expression to take to his face.

"I see you've remembered," the dog commented smugly, the bare light bulb now pulsing like a strobe light. "I'm insulted, quite frankly, that you could forget a character such as me in so short a time. And I don't know how you pulled off that little Houdini act, but I'm hurt that you'd want to get away from me, of all people. No matter, though. You'll serve out the rest of your days in agony to make up for it."

With every flash the dog was a different creature, from the sapphire-eyed stone lion to the shriveled minion to the kind obese man, to his future self, to the witch form of his mother, to the sorrowful young girl, quickly changing between them all until Tommy's eyes could no longer follow. Then, he blinked.

And his dog wasn't the lion.

Or the minion.

Or his future self.

He wasn't his mother, or even the girl.

The dog was a dark, ominous, deformed shape, with limbs disproportionate to its body, and long, jagged fingernails. Tommy closed his eyes and threw up his hands in reflexive defense as he opened up his mouth to scream, but a slash of the creature's long fingernails snatched the breath out of his throat. He unfolded his eyelids to the sight of his fingers severed at the half way point of his hands and as the malevolent being glided toward him, Tommy fell down the stairs out of shock. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline and pure terror numbing his gushing hand, and turned tail to run, but found himself trapped with nowhere to go except for the corner behind the furnace.

"Oh the irony," the demon chuckled as Tommy turned around to face it.

"N-!!" Tommy began to exclaim before he was cut off and enveloped in pitch darkness.

When he awoke, Tommy was standing in the corner behind the furnace. He attempted to walk out, but dumbly hit an invisible barrier.

"Tommy! Would you help me get the laundry?" he heard his mother yell.

Before he could response, Tommy heard, "OK Mom!" And there they were, hopping down the stairs; his mother and him, but not really him.

His clone goofed around, just beyond where Tommy's reach would have been without the force field. His mother opened the dryer, gathered the clothes, put them in a basket, and continued up the stairs, but not before looking directly at him and winking a sapphire eye and waving a contorted finger at him. The other Tommy merrily skipped up the stairs, waved a now-shriveled hand to him, and continued on his merry way out the basement.

As Tommy watched, his mother closed the door, condemning him to the place he feared most—the furnace. ²⁹