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“Aren’t you seeing what’s happening here?” Zac retorted.

  “Look,” said Valeria, lifting both her hands up. “At this hour, there’s only one place they can be. The local synagogue.”

  “Take me there,” demanded Zac. “It doesn’t seem like they’ll be back any time soon.”

  Valeria sighed. “We’ll be safer here.”

  “I don’t think we're safe anywhere, Valeria,” said Zac. He got to his feet and disappeared out of the room for a few minutes, leaving Valeria to make the large, black book disappear once more with a wave of her wand. When Zac returned, he was clad in a different large, grey, woolly jacket.

  He was extra prepared for the cold that was outside.

  Zac walked to the hallway and pulled open the front door, Valeria following timidly.

  The snow outside seemed to be falling faster in the night than in the day. Despite the darkness that had spread through the land, Zac could see that it seemed to be twice as cold and the winds were visibly swirling snow into the air.

  “No way my grandparents are coming back with this kind of snow,” said Zac. “We best go to—where did you say? The synagogue?”

  Zac turned to look at Valeria, who nodded. She was also pulling a heavy black coat around her, one that Zac had not seen before.

  “The synagogue is that way,” said Valeria, pointing.

  They stepped out into the freezing ground, Zac shutting the door to the house behind them, and they slowly set off into the cold winds. Unlike daytime, Zac could now see even less of the surrounding landscape. He was surprised by how quickly the night had already set in, but the most surprising of the weird events was that, for the entire day, he had gone without seeing his grandparents.

  Could they be worshipping in the synagogue all this time? He asked himself.

  “What’s a synagogue doing here in the South Pole?” He directed his question at Valeria. “Do you believe in the same gods that we do?”

  “Of course,” replied Valeria.

  They walked on for what seemed an eternity to Zac before they started spotting signs of life.

  “The synagogue’s up ahead,” said Valeria, pulling her coat tighter around her. Her visage had paled from the cold, and she could not control the chattering of her teeth.

  When Zac squinted through the snow to see more clearly of what was ahead of them, he was flabbergasted beyond measure.

  “Where’s the synagogue?” Zac asked.

  “We’ll have to get past those,” said Valeria, motioning with her head.

  Zac confirmed his worst fears when they got close enough. Before them lay a long stretch of graves, and in the distance, Zac saw a section of the ground that seemed to be covered exclusively by red and black tiles.

  “The synagogue is underground,” said Valeria, looking at Zac and reading his questions from his puzzled face.

  “W-what about the graveyard?” Zac asked—he had a slight tremble in his voice. “Who are all these people buried here?”

  There was a strong wind blowing through the place, and it was accompanied by a strange howl that made Zac look about him nervously.

  “This is where everybody who dies in the South Pole is buried,” said Valeria. “It’s a very sacred site.”

  “Next to an underground synagogue?” Zac’s response was both a question and a statement of fact.

  “Come on,” said Valeria, motioning with her head. “This way.”

  She set off on a path that was built through the middle of the cemetery. The tombstones were like eerie cylindrical stone tablets reaching out for air from the thick snow cover. From where Zac was, he could see that the tombstones were engraved with different markings, but he could not seem to understand what language they were inscribed in.

  “Valeria,” He shouted, “what language is this?”

  He had not noticed that Valeria had gone a step further than him, far enough from earshot.

  Zac knelt beside the first tombstone he encountered, clutching his jacket as a burst of wind blew snow and icy coldness through the place. The engraving seemed to be in strange shapes and letters that Zac did not recognize.

  When he looked up, Valeria had disappeared into the swirling winds.

  “Valeria!” He shouted, standing up and looking around him. Valeria was nowhere in sight.

  Maybe she’s got to the synagogue, he thought to himself, wondering how she could have vanished so abruptly. He told himself that he would find out more about the strange markings on the tombstones. They were truly strange and unconventional for Zac.

  The graveyard was very creepy and certainly did not look like a place that would be harboring a synagogue so close by. The strong winds gusting through the place were kicking up so much snow into the air—it was almost impossible for Zac to see what was up ahead.

  No wonder Valeria had managed to disappear.

  Zac stumbled through the snow, past the bulging tombstones to the tiled section of the ground. But as he got there, he heard a bone-chilling sound that he hoped he would never have to hear ever again.

  Oh no, he said to himself, not out here in the open!

  He turned around.

  Out in the open snow, in the howling wind, in the moonlit twilight, danger lurked.

  Zac was very familiar with the sounds that were approaching him through the haze.

  The evident howling and panting of the barking ghosts.

  Chapter 20

  Where’s Valeria? Zac asked himself, turning around on the spot and scrambling towards a descending section of the cemetery beneath the tiled section on the ground.

  As he scrambled downwards, he noticed that, on the ground before him, Valeria’s familiar wand lay waiting to be picked up.

  The sounds of the approaching beasts were getting closer, and so Zac instinctively picked up the wand and scrambled further down the dirt.

  A wooden door that was ajar and seemed to be leading to some sort of underground basement came into sight.

  “Valeria!” Zac called out, reaching the door, entering inside a large, dark hollow room, and closing the door shut behind him. He realized that he was panting hard, and despite the cold, he was sweating.

  “What the hell is wrong with this place?” He asked himself aloud in the darkness. His life in the past few days was akin to the type of intriguing experiences that he only heard of in stories.

  He stood there holding the door shut for a second to catch his breath—then, he called out:

  “Valeria? Are you in here?”

  His voice bounced off the walls of the darkened underground space, and there was nothing but silence to greet him.

  Is Valeria still outside? He asked himself.

  And then he heard it.

  A bone-chilling scream that made the insides of his stomach turn inside-out.

  It was Valeria.

  She was screaming at the top of her lungs, frantically as though she was fighting off something.

  Oh my God, Zac realized, starting to pull open the door. I have her wand. She can’t defend herself.

  The screams were loud and desperate, and Zac was not entirely sure of what he was supposed to do. But there was no way that he was going to leave Valeria out there with the barking ghosts.

  Then, he heard a stern and strong voice somewhere behind him instructing him:

  “Don’t open the door.”

  Zac froze like the snowy ground outside. He felt a tingling sensation traversing the length of his spine.

  “W-who’s there?” He asked in a frightened, shaky voice. He did not turn around, and he was realizing for the first time that he was not alone in the darkness.

  There was no response from the darkness.

  The screams from outside seemed to be subsiding. Zac’s heart was beating very fast, and the sweating seemed to go on unabated. His hand was still strongly clutching the side of the door.

  He let go rather hesitantly.

  In his other hand, he flicked the wand he was holding, more in fear rather than kn
owledge of what he was doing, and a faint light appeared at the tip of the wand.

  The screams from outside had now subsided, and Zac turned around, walked into the darkness, holding the wand before him. Just as he was squinting into the blackness, trying to get a focus on who might be before him by using the faint light from the top of the wand, there was a loud whooshing sound, and a large fire sprung out of the darkness to consume the darkness in an instant.

  “Whoa!” Zac screeched, startled, and was thrown a step backward.

  The fire had instantaneously appeared out of nowhere, and it burned around a perfect circular pit dug shallowly into the ground.

  The fire, however, allowed Zac to see the depths of the large room, finally.

  There were long wooden benches before him that crossed the entire length of the room to the very back. He was standing on what appeared to be a pew, and the fireplace before him was right in front of the first benches.

  And on them, there were about ten hooded figures with their hands clamped together in prayer. Their heads were bowed very low, and they all wore long black hoods that completely concealed their faces and any details about their bodies.

  The only sound in the room was the crackling of the flames, and Zac stood rooted for a moment in the same spot wondering what he was supposed to be doing.

  Then, one of the hooded figures raised his head, but Zac was still unable to see the face concealed in the darkness created by the hood. The individual stood up, with the others still in prayer, the invisible face of the individual trained squarely on Zac.

  “W-who are you?” Zac finally got the courage to force out words from his mouth.

  The hooded figure did not reply. Instead, he walked slowly towards Zac, his eyes trained on the youngster the entire time. He walked with a slow amble and a purposeful spring in his footsteps.

  And then he did the most remarkable thing.

  He walked through the flaming fire in the middle of the room, throwing Zac’s mouth agape. He walked calmly and composed through the fire, never taking a glance away from Zac.

  The room darkened slightly as the figure walked through the fire, and in a moment, he was standing right in front of Zac.

  Zac could smell a burnt rubber odor as the figure stood in front of him, silently watching him. However, neither his apparels nor his body was on fire, nor was he scathed with the scorching heat in any way.

  Zac took a step back and pointed the wand at the figure.

  “Who are you?” Zac demanded. “I’m looking for my grandparents. Have you seen them?”

  His words echoed off the darkened walls, and he could not control his sweating. His nervousness took precedence over any aspect of normalcy he might have tried to muster.

  Realizing that he had no idea of what was going on and the probability of Valeria laying dead outside, he decided to throw caution to the wind.

  Surprising the hooded figure, Zac turned around, and without hesitation, scrambled for the door despite the danger of the looming barking ghosts outside.

  He yanked open the door just as he heard disgruntled sounds behind him. A burst of cold icy air hit him, and without looking back, he set off into the snow once more.

  Chapter 21

  “Valeria! Where are you? Valeria!”

  Zac was running at full speed, his sneakers squishing the spongy, white ground. He ascended from the descent of the ground in the cemetery, and he was suddenly confronted with a shocking sight before him.

  Leaning on the bottom trunk of a large tree in the middle of the cemetery, Valeria lay there, bloodied, and a significant chunk of her lustrous hair ripped from her forehead. It was the type of scene that Zac would have expected of the war zone back at home, but the sight of his newfound friend had a chilling impact on him.

  Without thinking, and without looking around to see if the barking ghosts might still be there, he dashed towards Valeria, zigzagging past the creepy tombstones and stumbling twice into the deep snow.

  “Valeria!” He could not keep her name out of his mouth.

  When he got to her, Valeria was clutching her chest, with a stream of blood gushing through her hands. Her eyes were only opened half-way, and she had multiple cuts and bruises all over her skin.

  Her top and jacket were already soaked in blood, and they were already taking to the new color change with dramatic effect. Valeria was panting hard, trying to suck in all the air around her.

  She raised her eyes very exhaustedly at Zac whose face was printed with nothing but concern. His eyes were full of pity, and he was struggling to fight back the tears.

  “Valeria,” he said softly, leaning down beside her, and flicking her hair. He was too afraid to try and assess her evident fatal injuries.

  “I-I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Zac, blood spluttering from her mouth. She coughed heavily, seething in pain as more blood gushed from the open wound on her chest.

  “What the hell are you apologizing for?” Zac asked.

  “For not being honest with you,” she said weakly, coughing some more. She had no control of the blood that was evidently eager to leave her body.

  “What are you talking about?” Zac asked.

  “E-everything,” she stammered.

  “I need to get you out of here,” Zac said.

  Valeria seemed too injured to speak any more. She was in a lot of pain, and so Zac lifted her gingerly and started carrying her towards the cemetery’s periphery.

  The wind seemed to be blowing even stronger, but the snowfall appeared to have eased up. Valeria weighed a ton, and Zac was almost certain that he would not be able to carry her any further distance.

  He knew for a fact that they would not be safe in the synagogue–it was too creepy a place to be in.

  But Zac needed answers.

  Where were his grandparents?

  Were they among the hooded figures in the synagogue?

  What truths was Valeria talking about?

  But more importantly, where were they going?

  A strong blast of arctic wind hit Zac in the face—it was now blowing so strong that Zac could not see ahead where they were supposed to be going. The strain of carrying Valeria was quite burdensome, but he did not want to go back to the cemetery. He had already seen enough to convince himself to leave the South Pole.

  The walk back to the farmhouse was an ordeal for Zac. He carried Valeria half the distance while he dragged her on the snow for the other half. The icy winds hit him relentlessly, and he thought that they would eventually consume him and Valeria. He could not see where he was going, and he could not see where he had come from. He was surprised that nobody from the synagogue had followed them and made any attempts to get to them.

  When Zac finally got to the front porch of the small farmhouse, he felt a big wave of relief, but he had to stumble in first and carry Valeria all the way to the living room.

  Her eyes were firmly shut and she was barely moving. She seemed to be breathing, but only in the slightest. The blood had stopped oozing so quickly from her wound. Her arms lay limp on her side, and the full ferocity of the attack on her life was evident for Zac to see. She was paler than a ghost, and the coldness outside seemed to have had a greater effect on her than on Zac.

  Zac was also pale from the cold, and he could not feel his own face when he touched himself.

  He had no idea of how to conduct first aid, but he assumed that using Valeria’s wand might have some effect. The wand was stashed in his pocket with its pointy end sticking out of Zac’s side.

  He observed the long, black stick for a moment, noticing that the wand was made from a material that Zac had never seen before because it was not wooden per se.

  Zac looked at Valeria’s motionless body, wondering what he was supposed to do for her sake. However, he did not have to wonder so much as a loud crash from the upper floors above stirred him.

  He did not have much time to respond because immediately he was set upon by invisible, panting beasts that surrounded
the living room in an instant. They poured in from the back door, and the room was suddenly lively.

  The barking ghosts, Zac told himself.

  He felt almost too exhausted to be frightened. But just as he thought the scene unfolding before him was strange, it got even stranger.

  First, a green-skinned monster walked into the living room from the front door—then, another walked in from the back door. Suddenly, a dozen monsters appeared, walking in through the respective doors to the living room and standing in a ring shape around the living room.

  They stood abreast the drapes, in the shadows, so that all Zac could view were their imposing yellow eyes that seemed to have live worms crawling inside them.

  Zac watched in horror, mouth wide like an opened boot-lid as the monsters made sickening, excited sounds alongside the invisible beasts. They encircled Zac and the limp Valeria, their ghastly eyes excitedly settling on their prey.

  Zac remained rooted to the spot, looking about him nervously, wondering how he could escape his predicament.

  Then, one of the monsters stepped forward. Its skin was slimy, and his fingers had sharp, claw-like nails. It held its hands together as if in silent, demonic prayer.

  “We’re glad to finally meet you, Zac,” it said in a growling voice. “We have so much to talk about.”

  Chapter 22

  There was a frosty atmosphere inside the living room of the small farmhouse, far icier than the biggest storms that have ever hit the South Pole.

  Zac stared into the creepy, yellowy eyes of the monster standing so close to him.

  He had no idea that monsters could speak.

  “W-who are you?” Zac could only stammer out his sentences. He felt that remaining motionless might help him stay alive longer.

  The creepy monster that had spoken up stepped even closer to Zac. It rolled its eyes to look at Valeria, who was now set on the couch and seemed to be somewhere peaceful.

  A slimy ooze was creeping down its body, and it was aptly absorbed by the thick carpet.

  “We are the Guardians of the World,” said the monster, still eyeing Zac with its wormy eyes. “You are the first person from the outside world that we have been able to speak to in a thousand years.”