A few moments and several yellow taxis later, Joseph pulled alongside the curb, and Christian braved the short expanse from awning to car. He got in and shook the rain from his hair.

     “Watch where you’re spraying that,” Joseph said, shielding his face from the watery onslaught as he pulled into the dense traffic. Christian, detecting irritation in his voice, knew what was coming next. It had been Joseph’s mantra the past few days.

     Joseph sighed. “Why come to this rotten city to get rained on? I could’ve stayed in bloody London if I wanted a shower every time I stepped outside. You know we should have gone to California. Los Angeles and San Diego are always sunny and warm. And who the fuck rents a car in New York?”

     “We could always stay at the hotel,” Christian said with a smile. He watched the anger fade from Joseph’s face and the corners of his mouth lift. Good. The last thing he wanted now was for Joseph to be in a foul mood.

     “I’ve already spent an hour getting the car,” he said, “and I’m not going to put it back now. No need to get snippy! We’ll go on your little tunnel excursion.”

     Christian had always been fascinated by the clash of cultures in New York City. More faiths and desires and peoples congregated there than London and Paris combined, and, while the city was known for its violence, it still stood strong.

     He and Joseph had been having a conversation on just that topic the previous night, while sipping cappuccino in a posh, dimly lit coffee house. There they’d met Samuel and Lily, a young couple, dressed from head to toe in black. The couple had obviously been listening in on the discourse because Samuel had leaned over and said, “This is the city of a million gods.” He was a short, wiry chap with a shaved head and red lenses in his square-framed glasses.

     “And how many have you tasted?” Joseph had asked, with the usual amount of cynicism in his voice. “Fickle folk in New York, and all.”

     Lily, with cardinal lips and alabaster skin as delicate as her namesake flower, had answered. She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. “Enough to know that there’s one true god, and he’s not the one you worship.”

     “How do you know what god we worship?” Christian had said, knowing he’d enjoy the ensuing conversation. Photography was his profession, but world mythology and theology were his hobbies. He also knew that Joseph, a professional rugby player, would be bored to tears.

     “You’ve never met our god,” Samuel’s reply showed a certain degree of confidence. With a smug smile on his face, he added, “Although I’m sure you know some of his faces.”

     “Our loss,” Joseph had said, and downed the last of his cappuccino.

     “Tell us about your god, about your religion,” Christian had urged, pretending he did not see the look of disgust Joseph had given him.

     “There’s too much to tell,” Lily had said.

     “But we could show you…tomorrow.” Samuel had offered. After giving directions to what Samuel had called the Tunnel of Enlightenment, he quickly turned the conversation to another topic, which instantly brightened Joseph’s mood. Samuel, it seemed, was a rugby fan and had recognized Joseph. That had stroked Joseph’s ego, appeasing him at least for the night.

     The rest of the evening had gone by smoothly, with Samuel and Joseph discussing sports and why warm beer was better than cold, while Christian and Lily had talked about photography and the underground music scene of New York and London.

     “This is it? You must be joking,” Joseph said when he stepped out of the motorcar and looked upon what was supposed to be the Tunnel of Enlightenment’s entrance. Samuel and Lily, dressed in jeans and dirty sweatshirts, stood smiling in front of a large storm drain opening. “Something’s wrong here.”

     Christian shook his head, “You always think the worst about people.”

     “This is New York City. They’re probably going to rob and kill us. That’s just what will make my vacation perfect, the full New York experience.” Joseph did not move from beside the vehicle. “I bet they’re part of a cult.”

     “All religions were once cults,” Christian said. “To become a full-fledged religion, all you need are a few years, some followers, and a sprinkling of zealots to keep it interesting.”

     “You aren’t really thinking of going beneath the city with them, are you?” Joseph’s face was scrunched up in disbelief. “Don’t be a dolt.”

     Christian loved Joseph’s sense of responsibility and the way he thought everything through. It was the perfect complement to his own flightiness. However, the big rugby player just did not have a sense of adventure, and he could be downright venomous. Just getting him to leave London had been a major feat. “I want to go. You know how I love this stuff.”

     “Love what,” Joseph muttered, “getting killed or driving me insane?”

    “The last one,” Christian said, as he turned his back and started off toward Samuel and Lily. “Who knows,” he continued, patting his camera bag, “I might even get to take some pictures to sell, pay for the whole trip.”

     Christian grinned when he heard Joseph huff and slam the car door shut. He soon heard Joseph hurrying toward him. “I suppose I can’t just let you go alone to get brainwashed or killed or whatnot. That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.” Lily waved them forward.

     “I didn’t think you two would actually show up,” Samuel said, as he and Lily turned to enter the tunnel. They each turned on a flashlight. “Most people fear the truth.”

     “I knew you’d come,” Lily said, smiling at Christian. “I felt it last night when we first met.”

     “That’s lovely,” Joseph groused, “she could feel you.” Christian ignored him.

     Lily continued. “You’re a scholar at heart, and I can tell that you truly desire enlightenment.”

     True enough, he thought, at least when it came to the subjects of religion and myth. The possibility of discovering a new urban religion was a titillating thought. Perhaps I’ll even write a book on the subject, he mused, as they passed into the tunnel’s darkness.

     The storm drain’s mouth was garbage-strewn and stank of urine. Amidst the refuse, Samuel stood, pulling at an old ice chest. When he—along with Joseph’s help—had gotten the thing out of the way, Christian could see a small hole. The roughly hewn circle was barely large enough for a man of Joseph’s size to squeeze through.

     “This is bloody ridiculous!” Joseph threw his hands up in the air. Then he pointed at the hole. “You expect us to go through there?”

     Christian could see Samuel grinning in the flashlight’s glow. “I thought men like you were accustomed to fitting into tight little holes.”

     “Fuck you,” Joseph growled, “I’m getting out of this tunnel.” Even in the darkness, Christian could feel Joseph’s eyes upon him. “Are you coming?”

     “I just want to see,” Christian sputtered.

     “Right, you fucking dolt,” Joseph said, spinning around and heading toward the entrance. “I’ll be in the car. If you aren’t back soon, you can walk to the Collier.”

     He started to follow Joseph, but felt a soft hand lightly touch his shoulder. It was Lily, gently holding him back. “I need him,” Christian said, looking after his partner.

     “You don’t,” she insisted.

     “You don’t understand—”

     “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “he’ll be there for you when we’re done, and, if he’s not, then he doesn’t deserve you…and he can serve another purpose.”

     She was right, he knew. Joseph was a wonderful man, but he was short of temper and there were some things that he didn’t understand. It was just his nature. There’d never been any real violence in their relationship, but there were plenty of times when Joseph would be gone for days at a time (doing God knows what). Now, Christian thought with a slight perverse satisfaction, it was time for Joseph to worry.

     Christian entered the hole after Samuel, and found that, after a few feet of wriggling, the aperture widened and it was possible to crawl along on hands and knees. Soon, the hole opened into a large cavity, apparently carved by human hands. The flashlights only illuminated part of the cavern, so he couldn’t tell how extensive the place really was.

     “This is where you worship?” Christian had a sinking feeling that perhaps Joseph had been right. Here, in the shadows, any number of hoodlums could lie waiting to take his money or his life.

     “Not here,” Samuel said. “We still have a ways to go.”

     “There,” Lily said, pointing the beam of her light toward a rickety wooden ladder. “We go down the ladder.”

     “Tell me about your god,” Christian said as they neared the ladder. He glanced nervously at the shadows, expecting to see grinning faces and switchblades; there was nothing but shadows.

     “He’s an amalgam of deities and antiquated faiths,” Samuel said when he was halfway down the ancient ladder. The flashlight, tucked into his belt and shining upward, gave his face an eerie glow. “Created by the city itself.”

     Lily continued, “No one religion is completely right, you see. They all have factual bits and pieces, like the Flood. And all religions acknowledge the presence of overpowering evil.”

     “From my studies,” Christian said, “many religions exaggerated the tales of evil things inhabiting the worlds of flesh and spirit as a way to impose order, from the myths of the Romans to Christianity.”

     “Myths?”

     “Well, they’re all just myths, aren’t they? …At least until we die and find out for sure. Imagine the afterlife is actually Valhalla and the bloody Vikings being right!” He smiled, though in the low light, was sure she couldn’t see.

     Lily shrugged and urged Christian to go down the ladder next. Each step was slippery and covered in some kind of slime, and he wished he’d worn more sensible shoes. He couldn’t be too upset with himself, however, because when he’d dressed that morning, he’d had no idea where the day would take him. When he reached the bottom of the ladder, which was about four meters high, Samuel showed him a passage shored up with wooden beams. “Through there is enlightenment,” Samuel whispered. “You’ll experience wonders.”

     Lily was beside them now, an arm draped over Samuel’s shoulder. “Go ahead,” she said, her voice silky.

     “This is nothing like I thought it would be,” Christian said, laughing nervously. “You see, I thought it would be more like a church meeting group…you know…with warm apple cider and cake.”

     “Leaving is not an option,” Samuel said, stepping along with Lily in front of the ladder.

     “I see,” Christian replied, shrugging. More than being robbed, he dreaded the look of ‘I told you so’ that he knew Joseph would give him. “Is it money you want? I’ll give you whatever I have.”

     “We don’t care about money,” Samuel said, as though he were above such a petty thing as wealth. “Just go meet our god, and learn true faith.”

     Christian wasn’t as good a judge of people as Joseph was, but he could see malice in their eyes and the glint of a long blade held in Samuel’s hand. Unless he wanted a knife in the stomach, he knew he’d have to do as they asked. “Can I at least have a light?”

     Along the walls of the passage were etched symbols and figures depicting ancient gods and demons. Some of them he recognized from books he’d read, but others he’d never seen. The flashlight’s incandescence made the figures appear as though they were moving, following him along the wet, musty corridor.

     He walked for what seemed like an eon, marveling at the images on the wall, when he saw a soft light begin to glow in the distance. As he neared the light source at the passage’s end, he became aware of a powerful stench, as though something was rotting.

     He knew it was putrefying flesh, the same smell that had accosted him several years before at his flat in the East End. His elderly neighbor, Mr. Hobbes, had expired in May and was not discovered until the middle of a hot July. But the stench wafting from the edge of the corridor was far more powerful.

     The rational part of him told him to turn around, to run, to use the flash on his camera to blind Samuel and Lily, and to run past them. Something kept him from turning and running, though. He supposed it was curiosity, simply the need to find out just what it was that waited for him. Perhaps they were telling the truth, and maybe it was some new god and enlightenment. Whatever was there, it was drawing him forward.

     When he reached the end of the hallway he had to squint to see inside the next room, for the light had become incredibly bright. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw heaps of skeletons and rotting corpses. There must have been a hundred bodies, he guessed…maybe more.

     Atop the heap sat a strange, wizened creature that, when Christian looked upon it, began to sing a melancholy song in a voice barely above a whisper. It was naked, its wrinkled skin a mottled gray. A dark mane ran from head to serpentine tail. Coarse bristles covered each of its four arms. The creature’s face was partially elongated, giving it the appearance of some sort of canine, or perhaps even Anubis, but the eyes…the eyes were far more than human, far more intelligent and soulful. There was wisdom in those eyes…and darkness.

     The thing stood on its two spindly legs and began to slowly dance amongst the bones, sending them tumbling down the bone mountain. The melody it sang reached his mind, exchanging thoughts with him, sharing histories.

     Its name was incomprehensible, but roughly translated to Eternal Bone Dancer, or He Who Wallows Among the Dead. Christian could tell that great sadness and anger pervaded the once proud creature.

     Bone Dancer was created from the remains of dead gods who’d fallen out of favor, ancient gods of the harvest, of wine, and of plague—and a million such things. He was pieces of Zeus and Odin and Apollo, gods once champions of the heavens. They only existed within him now. In this, the Age of Lust and Desire, he was nothing compared to the great gods: Greed, Power, and Fame. And, as humiliating as it was, he’d become mere flesh, and as such, was prey to the sins of the flesh. He needed sex, food, and entertainment...thus, the heap of bones.

     The ones outside, Samuel and Lily, were two of his most faithful followers, constantly recruiting new believers from among those who searched for enlightenment. The flock was small now, but with enough followers, he could again ascend from his pit to take back the heavens. Bone Dancer reasoned that if Christ could resurrect and ascend, it could happen to him.

     Do you seek enlightenment? It sang in a myriad of voices.

     He nodded, sure that Bone Dancer already knew his greatest desires, his deepest fears. They had, after all, exchanged secrets and truths.

     Bone Dancer leapt off the pile of bones and came within inches of him. Christian could smell the putrid human meat on his breath, but he was not afraid. He leaned forward and kissed Christian on the lips. The god’s kiss was exhilarating, like nothing he’d ever felt before. There were sweetness and history and reality in the touch…

     “Have you found enlightenment?” Lily asked excitedly when he emerged from the passage.

     “Of course he has.” Samuel was smiling broadly. “You know the work we must do.”

     Christian, still numb from making love to the god, nodded. “I know what to do. He needs disciples…and food. We’ll be the apostles and scribes of his ascension.”

     “About your friend…” Lily asked, “what will he think?”

     Christian shrugged absently. He’d sifted through a hundred different religions, had had more than his share of lovers, and in all his life had never found anything to make him truly happy, or make him believe...until now. Joseph would understand. He had to because everything was finally clear, and the world made sense, albeit twistedly. This was what it was all about. And if Joseph didn’t understand…well, Lily had said he could serve another purpose. After all, Bone Dancer needed to be entertained and fed.

The End