by Amy Cross
“It's nothing,” he continued, “really.”
“Do you have a job to get to in the morning?”
“Not as such,” he replied, “although I certainly have a lot to do.”
“Looking after your grandfather?”
He frowned, as if he had no idea what I meant, before finally nodding. “Of course. Looking after my grandfather. The old man never quits asking for things. Seriously, it's hard to believe how grumpy people can get toward the end of their...” His voice trailed off. “Maybe we should get going,” he added. “It's cold out here and I should deliver you safely to your door. Tonight of all nights.”
***
Once the door to my apartment was shut, I leaned back and listened to the sound of Matthias heading through the door on the other side of the hallway. I held my breath for a few seconds, until I heard his door clicking shut.
For a moment, standing alone in the silence, I felt as if the rest of the city had suddenly faded away. After a few seconds, however, I heard a distant car horn, and I realized that life was, in fact, going to continue regardless of what had happened to Belinda. In a way, that was what hurt the most. I'd wanted to scream at people in the street, to ask how they could be laughing and having fun when Belinda was dead. Of course, they didn't know Belinda, but I was still offended by the idea of life going on as normal for other people.
I guess I was even offended that the world continued to turn.
Exhausted, I began to get ready for bed. I felt a little like a zombie, traipsing through my usual routine, although one thing was missing. Most nights, Belinda would send me jokey little messages, usually teasing me for being at home and telling me to get my ass out to join her at some bar or club. Checking my phone that night, I saw no messages at all, and I couldn't help thinking about how unfair the world seemed. After all, Belinda had been one of those people who was always full of life, and she'd made other people feel better about themselves too. Well, she'd made me feel better about myself, that's for sure.
I guess I just didn't understand how someone like that could die in such a brutal manner.
By the time I was in bed, I'd taken a couple of sleeping pills but my mind was still racing. I tossed and turned for a couple of hours once the light was off, but I just couldn't stop going over the day's events in my mind, and naturally I started thinking about my night out with Belinda. I told myself the guilt and regret might fade over time, but that for now I just had to go through them. Finally, I don't know how, but I managed to fall asleep.
In my dreams, I was back in the bar with Belinda. It was the night before she died, and she was going on and on in her usual way about the importance of finding a good man in the city. My attention began to drift, however, and I found myself focusing more and more on the dark corner at the far end of the room. As Belinda continued with her latest rant, I began to notice a figure in the shadows, someone I hadn't noticed when we were out. I couldn't see the figure's face, but I was starting to feel as if Belinda and I were being watched. As if someone had been watching us on the night she died.
“Men get worse with age,” Belinda was saying, her voice phasing in and out of my dream. “It's a fact.”
I tried to turn and reply, but instead I found myself staring across the dark bar. I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn't manage to make myself wake up and I felt as if something was gripping the back of my neck, squeezing tight. Invisible hands were touching me all over, gripping me harder and harder.
“Women age like a fine wine,” Belinda continued, “and men age like... Men age like a -”
Before she could finish, I felt my entire body being dragged across the room. I tried to call out, to grab onto another table, but some kind of external force had taken hold of me and was moving me around like a rag doll. I couldn't hear Belinda anymore, and the sound of the bar was overwhelming, as if thousands and thousands of voices were filling the air. After a moment, however, I realized I could hear little snippets of each conversation in turn, as if somehow I was rifling through the room and checking to see what everyone was talking about.
I felt like a puppet, powerless to keep myself from being flung in every direction.
“What is this?” I whispered, starting to feel light-headed as the room began to spin around me.
Suddenly I was tilted back and swung around, before the force shoved me in a different direction. I raced past Belinda, who was still talking as if nothing strange was happening, but now I was being shoved toward the bar and then a little further toward the far corner, where the force stopped me abruptly and held me a few feet off the ground. Looking down, I saw my feet hanging in mid-air, but a sudden burst of nausea filled my belly and I tilted my head back.
“Where is he?” a voice said suddenly, echoing through my thoughts. “Focus!”
Looking across the room, I saw all the other bar patrons, and after a moment I realized I could see Belinda sitting alone at our table, chattering away as if I was still there.
“Belinda!” I gasped. “Help me!”
As if to offer some form of reply, the external force turned me around until I was facing the dark corner of the bar. Once again, I became aware of a figure in the shadows, someone who seemed to be staring straight back at me. I wanted to look away, to grab Belinda and run, but somehow my head was being held firmly in position and all I could manage was to stare at the figure. I couldn't see his face, which was somehow hidden behind a smudge of darkness, but I could sense him staring at me. After a moment, I realized I could feel something reaching out and touching the edge of my mind, as if my thoughts were being probed.
“What are you doing?” I stammered, trying again to get free but still unable to move. “Why can't I wake up?”
“Now finish that drink,” Belinda's voice said suddenly, as if her lips were right next to my ear. “I've got tonight all mapped out, and we've still got four more bars to hit before midnight!”
“Four?” I heard my voice replying, echoing across the room.
Suddenly I saw the dark figure emerging from the shadows, as if it was coming straight toward me. Immediately, my body was swung around and I realized I was no longer in the same bar. Instead, I was in another bar from that night, the one that Belinda had insisted on showing me toward the end. The last bar that I ever went into with her. I looked around, and finally I spotted her ordering drinks. I remembered that part, and I even remembered the face of the barman, but a moment later my body was twisted around and I was sent flying through the air until I reached the bottom of the steps at the room's far end.
“Stop!” I shouted, trying to get free. The grip on the back of my neck was stronger now, as if someone really was holding me up.
I tried to grab my arm, to pinch myself so that I might wake up, but again my entire body seemed to be frozen.
And then I saw the figure again. He was at the top of the stairs, shrouded once again in shadows, staring down at me. I gasped and tried to pull back, but I was still being held in place and a few seconds later I actually felt myself being lifted higher. Whatever was holding my neck, it was starting to move me up the stairs, straight toward the dark figure.
“I need to see his face,” a voice whispered in my mind. “I need to be sure that it's him.”
“Who are you?” I stammered, trying not to panic as I floated closer and closer to the dark figure.
“I need to be certain.”
“Who are you?” I asked again.
“Why won't he show his face?” the voice continued, starting to sound annoyed. “What's he trying to hide from me? Has he finally decided to show his true cowardice?”
Suddenly the dark figure lunged at me. I opened my mouth to scream, but I was quickly turned around and I felt a rush of nausea as the world pivoted around me. For a few seconds, all I saw was a series of blurred lights, before my vision settled and I found myself outside, standing at the top of the steps that led down to the metro station. It was as if I was being dragged through my memories of th
at night and forced to relive certain key moments.
“Get home, loser,” Belinda was saying with a grin as she tried to light a cigarette. A cold night's breeze was buffeting her hands, constantly thwarting her attempts until finally she turned her back on the wind and got the cigarette lit.
I remembered that.
That's exactly what happened.
“Next time we go out,” she added, taking a long, slow drag, “I want you to be on top form, understood? It's a scandal for anyone to head home before the sun comes up. We're still in our twenties, Chloe. A good night out should involve more than a few drinks and then binge-watching some crappy TV show in bed. A good night out should last about three nights!”
“Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?” I heard my voice asking.
“Yes!” I shouted now. “Belinda, don't go alone!”
“I think I can handle myself,” she said with a grin, leaning closer and kissing my cheek before taking a step back. “Sleep well, baby doll. Are you sure it shouldn't be the other way around? Shouldn't I be walking you home?”
“I'll be fine,” I heard myself telling her. “It's just a couple of stops on the subway.”
“Please don't go,” I stammered, begging Belinda to stay even though I knew it was just a dream. She turned and began to walk away, still smoking her cigarette, but I couldn't even reach out to stop her. “Belinda!” I shouted. “Wait! Don't go!”
“There,” the voice whispered in my ear suddenly. “We're getting closer.”
Still feeling a hand holding the back of my neck, I watched Belinda wandering away along the sidewalk. After a moment, however, I realized I could see a dark, smudged figure standing nearby. For a few seconds, the figure seemed to be watching me, and then it turned and started following Belinda.
“No!” I screamed, with tears in my eyes. “Belinda, wait! Come back! It's not -”
Before I could finish, I saw the dark figure swamp her, and then she was gone.
“No!” I shouted, trembling with shock. “Leave her alone!”
“I was right,” the voice said calmly, still just millimeters from my ear. “I had to see for myself first, though. I had to be sure.”
“Stop!” I yelled, watching the spot where Belinda had vanished. Tears were streaming down my face, but I still couldn't manage to move my body. “You can't let her -”
Suddenly the pressure on my neck was gone. I stumbled forward, but I quickly tripped and fell. When I landed on the cold, dirty sidewalk, I tumbled straight through into the darkness below. It felt as if I was falling forever, but eventually I realized I could feel hundreds and hundreds of hands reaching out to grab me. I tried to twist free, but flames were starting to fill the air and I could see twisted, dark figures below, reaching up with their charred hands. When I landed on them, their bodies shattered and I collapsed into a pile of ash that quickly filled my mouth. The faster I tried to spit the foul powder out, the faster it seemed to run down my throat.
“Stop!” I tried to shout, but my mouth was full now and I was sinking deeper into a vast ocean of gray ash.
As I slipped beneath the surface, I tried one final time to call out.
“Help me!” I shouted, sitting up suddenly in bed. My heart was pounding and beads of sweat was pouring down my chest, but when I looked around I quickly realized I was in my bedroom.
Outside, gray morning light filled the Parisian sky. It took a moment, but finally I realized my phone's alarm had started beeping. I was sitting up in my cold bed, covered in sweat and panting to get my breath back.
Chapter Ten
Matthias
The pain was intense, burning through my chest, and finally I collapsed in the middle of the room, not even managing to reach the chair.
I held my breath, but this time the pain was much stronger than before, rippling through my body as if it was searching for some new route to my heart. I crawled forward until I reached the chair, at which point I turned and leaned back. The pain had to fade, I knew that, but for now it was bursting through me.
I let out a faint gasp.
I thought of Chloe, of her face in the cafe.
She'd seemed so young again. I'd almost forgotten how innocent she once was. How free. How much I changed her. When I thought of how she looked when I last saw her...
Slowly, the pain began to fade. I still didn't dare try to get up, not for a few more minutes, but at least I was able to breathe more freely and to focus on getting air into my lungs. It had been a long, long time since I'd known such pain, but the effort of entering Chloe's dream had taken a toll. I remembered the days when I used to walk effortlessly into the thoughts of anyone around me, when I could step from mind to mind, from the dream of one person to the dream of another, without even breaking a sweat. I remembered the times when Chloe invited me into her thoughts.
Now, the effort of just one night had been enough to almost cripple me.
Still, I'd seen enough.
I'd seen the dark figure lurking at the edge of Chloe's perception, and I'd seen him following her. I hadn't really needed any proof, the prophecy had already been very clear about what would happen once Hugo was released, but it was still useful to lay eyes on him again after all this time. Besides, I knew what he was going to do, just not how or exactly when. All I could hope was that I'd have enough time to heal before he made his next move, although deep down I knew that his madness would force him to work fast.
Feeling another flicker of pain, I hauled myself up into the chair and told myself that I had to rest. Hugo would move soon, and I would have to be there to stop him. I would finally have to face my brother again.
Chapter Eleven
Chloe
“No, there's not actually going to be a funeral here in Paris,” I replied as I led Tricia, the new agency temp, across the office. “She'll just be sent to London so her family can arrange things. It's complicated.”
“It's so awful,” Tricia said with a frown. “It's weird, too. I remember seeing that murder case on the news last week, and now here I am, taking the dead girl's job. It's kinda macabre.”
“Best not to think about it,” I told her as we reached Belinda's old desk in the corner, which had now been cleared ready for the new girl. “I guess the best thing is for you to just dive in,” I continued, turning to her. “Liam and the others in the main room can help with any problems you experience, but my door's always open so feel free to pop in and ask if you've got questions.”
“I'll do that,” Tricia replied, holding her hand out to me. “I'm really grateful that you gave me this job, and I won't let you down.”
“Sure,” I replied, forcing a smile as I shook her hand. “Welcome to the team.”
With that, I turned and headed through to my office. I couldn't help glancing over my shoulder, however, and watching as Tricia took her seat at Belinda's old desk. I understood that the company had to fill the role, of course. I had no resentment or anger in that regard. I can't deny, however, that it hurt to see how quickly things changed. How quickly Belinda was being forgotten.
***
Suddenly hearing an angry man saying something in French, I realized I was blocking the aisle in the supermarket. I stepped back, allowing the man to reach the milk, and then I heard him mutter something under his breath.
“Pardon, er, moi,” I said, hoping that my limited French would be okay, but the man simply huffed and walked away.
Looking along the aisle, I realized for a moment that I had no idea how I'd ended up in the supermarket. I remembered meeting Tricia at the office and showing her around, and then I remembered spending most of the day working through some old client profiles, and then...
Somehow it was evening now and I was in the supermarket. Looking down, I saw my little basket of groceries. I'd already picked up a loaf of bread and some microwave meals, and in my stupor I'd also grabbed some brie. Still, it was unnerving to realize that I'd basically spent the day on auto-pilot, even if I'd managed
to get all my work done. Taking a deep breath, I told myself to get my crap together.
Suddenly I realized someone was watching me. I turned and looked along the bright aisle. There was no sign of anyone, but I was certain someone had been standing at the far end. I waited, before realizing that I was probably just cracking up.
***
Sitting on a bench at the metro station, I glanced up at the board and saw that my train was still five minutes away. I was feeling a little out of it, as if my thoughts were elsewhere, and a moment later I realized once again that someone was watching me.
I turned and looked along the platform, but there was no sign of anyone.
I waited.
Nothing.
“Keep it together,” I muttered, taking a deep breath and looking back down at my bag of groceries. “Just make sure you don't lose your mind.”
“Talking to yourself now?”
Almost jumping out of my skin, I turned just in time to see Jackson taking a seat next to me. He looked rougher than before, and more skittish, and I couldn't help noticing that there was a fusty smell around him.
“What are you doing here?” I stammered.
“That's a fine way to greet the man you love,” he replied.
I sighed.
“I mean, you told me you loved me,” he added, glancing past me and then looking the other way, as if he was worried we might be spotted. After a moment, he turned back to me. “You told me lots of times. In bed. On romantic walks. Over dinner. In pubs.”
“This really isn't the right time,” I said firmly.
