by Kim Faulks
Her mother’s painful words would be the ones she’d live by. They’d be the ones she’d remember and not the last ones her father spoke. Morgan knew she’d never think of his whispered comfort again. She dropped the handset and dragged herself up by the counter. No one paid her any attention when she skirted the walls, heading for the open front door—no one would miss her at all. She didn’t walk the streets to the rat-hole she lived in now. She’d never go back there again. She was done with that life.
Those last words of her father’s followed her as she trod the empty streets, heading to the only place she had left. The scraping steel door of the Emergency Department drew attention to her, but she didn’t care. The clerk lifted her gaze as she neared the plastic divider. She didn’t wait for her to speak. Instead, she lifted her hands and turned her palms up as she whispered.
“I need help. I’ve just killed my father.”
Morgan didn’t watch the flurry of activity, but knew the clerk grabbed the phone and spoke quickly. She only stared at her hands. She had killed her father. Her failure to act, to do anything but stand there, fucking frozen, had allowed death to steal him away in front of her eyes.
I love you, Morgan.
No, she wouldn’t listen to those words. She didn’t deserve them.
THE FIRST CHANGE SLADE NOTICED was the light against the walls—it grew brighter, impossibly whiter, and with the increasing glare, his hope flared. He surged forward. The jostling movement caused Morgan to slur in his ear, “Slade, please help me. I can’t… I can’t take anymore.”
His shoulder was screaming with the pain, still he held her as gently as he could. “You have to find forgiveness, Morgan. You have to get to the end.”
She sobbed against his neck and it seemed her breath blew life into his heart. But those saving breaths didn’t last long as she was dragged back under. He felt useless, knowing she was facing the battle alone, but the dreams wouldn’t stop, not until she found closure. Slade focused on the growing light, forgetting about everything else, until he heard a growl.
He spun, and the breath left his body. A beast tore along the hallway, heading for them. He looked bigger than the one from the room. Dark and slick, his muscles rippled and gleamed as he ran.
“Motherfucker.” Slade’s grip tightened on Morgan and he broke into a run.
REHAB HADN’T HELPED MORGAN. THE cheap halfway home only provided a sweat-stained mattress, while the devil shredded her veins and ravaged her mind. She spent six months inside that tiny room with its single bed and nailed-down furniture—six months while she fought the addiction alone. No one came to see her—it was as though she never existed at all.
On the day of Morgan’s release, she walked to the cemetery and searched for her father’s grave. She found the stone, hidden by a massive oak, its knotted branches warding away unwelcome visitors. The blazing red leaves slapped her face in the wind. The sting brought tears to her eyes. She dropped to her knees on the hard ground and stared at the stone. In memory of Jeremy Drimmel, beloved husband to Judith, father to Morgan and Abby. Forever in our hearts.
She ran her fingers along the polished granite. The words were gouged deep, the edges sharp. He’d been so vibrant, so… solid, and now, he was gone.
You did this! Her mother screamed inside Morgan’s skull. The cold wind lashed her, along with the truth. I did this… I did… this.
“I’m sor—” She tried to say the words, but the wind snatched them away and she tried no more. Words didn’t help. She felt just as hollow, just as cold as she’d always felt. She sat there, staring at the headstone, while the wind howled before she climbed to her feet and walked away.
Memories of her life blurred, shooting forward, leaving autumn behind for a sweltering summer night. Morgan now stood in the doorway of the bar where she worked. The scent of cigarettes and sweat lingered, and her ears hummed from the band’s heavy bass, though the place was empty. Morgan hit the lights and shouldered open the door, letting the night air in. A cool breeze puckered her skin as she stood in the darkness and stared into the bar. The bottle of scotch was heavy in her hand. She gripped the slender bottleneck tight, even though inside, she was unraveling. She’d been clean and sober since she left rehab, not one drink, not one line, not one tablet… nothing but work and sleep to get her through the days. This night should’ve been like every other night—but it wasn’t.
Today would’ve been her father’s birthday.
“MORGAN. YOU HAVE TO WAKE up.” Slade fumbled, trying his best to hold her, and careened into the wall. He could hear the fucking beast gain on them. Jesus, if he didn’t get out of here, they’d be dead. Her body bounced against his chest as he ran. He was losing ground. He stared along the hallway at the blinding end. That must be the end—the doorway to whatever was out there. But they weren’t going to make it.
“Fuck. Morgan, please baby. I can’t….” His thighs burned, his shoulder was on fire, and his grip weakened. He was losing her… he was losing her.
Her mumbled slur drifted over his pounding steps. “What’s happening?”
He slowed. “Thank fucking God. We have to run, Morgan.”
She struggled in his arms and he let her slide to the ground. She gripped his hand and turned to stare behind them. The massive beast ran like a linebacker determined to stop them from getting across the line. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t even life and death… the fight to get to the end was so much more—it was a fight for salvation.
Morgan stumbled, tugging on his hand. She mumbled, “Well, what the fuck are we standing around for?”
Any other time he would’ve smirked at her remark, but there was no time to hold onto this moment as the beast ran at them with hunger and hell in its eyes. Slade gripped her hand and pushed them harder. She matched his pace. The sounds of their steps were drowned out by the thunder behind them.
Slade focused on the walls. The brilliance that grew brighter with each step became too much for his eyes. He looked down and prayed as they ran. He could feel the growls of the beast vibrate behind them and the thud of its heavy steps seemed to slow. Slade pushed harder, jerking Morgan with him. He felt her body lurch. Her steps skidded as she tried to keep up. He realized his mistake in the split-second before it happened, and he was useless to do anything about it. Morgan’s steps faltered. She lost her grip on his hand and fell.
MORGAN LIFTED THE BOTTLE TO her lips. The amber liquid splashed against the inside of the glass, reflecting the yellow glow inside the room. She stared at the dead eyes reflected in the mirror. They were cold, dead eyes of a killer… a killer… you did this!
“Happy birthday, Daddy.” She slurred and then drained the bottle. The glass hit the carpet with a thud. She didn’t look down, she didn’t care. All Morgan saw was the blinking light of the answering machine. Her hand hovered over the flashing display. Her fingers trembled, pressing the replay button once more.
Mum won’t even say your name anymore, it’s like you don’t exist…
If words could cut, those would’ve shredded her heart… like you don’t exist… you don’t exist. She listened to Abby’s voice as tears blurred her vision and the room spun.
It’d been six months… six long months she carried the fucking guilt. The shit ate at her like acid and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move past what she’d done. Her father’s death was all she thought of.
You have to find forgiveness, Morgan.
She stared at the answering machine as the deep, male growl echoed inside her.
You have to find forgiveness.
She felt as though the deep voice should’ve been familiar, as though somehow, this man mattered. But all she could hear were those other words… those cruel words. Morgan swayed and stared into the mirror. There was a way out of this, the only real way out. And suddenly that was all she saw—the only way to end it all.
Morgan stumbled for the bedside table and grabbed her phone. Her fingers danced across the numbers as though s
he’d dialed it only yesterday. Someone picked up. She spoke without thinking and hung up. The alcohol numbed her, but the blinking answering machine light tormented her.
Find forgiveness…. She sat on the floor against the end of her bed while tears slid down her face. Her throat was thick, the words like a disease that ate her away. “I’m so sor—”
A knock sounded at the door. Morgan rolled to her hands and knees, then her feet. Reaching for her wallet, she palmed what cash she had left. The deal was quick, cash gone, replaced by a tight ball in her palm. She closed the door and slid the chain closed.
SLADE HEARD THE SILENCE A second before something hit him from behind, slamming him into the wall. He tried to climb to his feet and reach for Morgan, but his body refused to move. The glaring light darkened as the beast moved above him. Slade’s vision sharpened. Sharp, filthy nails like rusted razors gouged the air, inching their way toward her. One swipe of the beast’s claws snagged her boot. It gripped tight and yanked Morgan closer. His fears provided the kick in the gut he needed. His heart lunged inside his chest, forcing him to move. Slade kicked with everything he had, aiming for the beast’s ankles. The apparition’s grunt of pain made hope soar in his veins.
The thing above him moved, but not as Slade expected. It moved around Slade, dancing around the blinding rays of the light streaming into the hallway. Slade looked into that light and his eyes burned. They were so close. He just knew it—and so did the beast.
“Morgan.” Slade moved, sliding his body forward. “Morgan, come on baby, answer me.”
There was only silence from her. The beast threw one massive hand up to the light while it grabbed her leg with the other and wrenched her backward, down the hallway. Toward the room… toward Hell.
Fear and fury breathed new life into his burning lungs. He pushed off the wall towards the beast. “No, you don’t, you piece of fucking shit! Get your hands off her. She’s mine!”
The monster snarled, revealing teeth caked with green slime. Slade could feel the beast stare into his very soul with its cold, dead eyes. The demon paid no attention to him. It wrenched Morgan as it moved, dragging her away like a schoolyard bully stealing a rag doll.
He had no weapon. He had no gun, so he used his body, inflicting what little damage he could. Slade charged into the beast, using his head for a battering ram. He hit the wall of muscle and bounced off, rolling into the light.
Too close to quit. With a roar, Slade fought to gain his feet. His movements were slow, his blows were weak—he had nothing left. Slade lashed out, catching the monster on the side of the face and was rewarded with a growl.
Morgan slid along the floor. Thick, greedy fingers grabbed her where it had no right to touch. Slade reacted without thinking and blocked the light as he reached for the beast’s hand. The creature’s blow caught him off guard. Taking the punch on the side of the head, he went down.
He felt her body slipping away, one brutal jerk after another. Slade grabbed her shirt. His fingers dug deep into her stomach, trying to hold on as she slid along the floor. “Morgan. Please, for fuck’s sake!”
Her eyes opened with a start. For that moment, Slade felt like he was falling into the bottomless wells of her wide, black pupils until she looked down at the stained, slimy hands gripping her.
She screamed. The sound rebounded inside the hallway. She jolted in his hands, kicking and hissing like a scalded cat. The beast took her boot to his face, and more blows to his hands, as she aimed for his grip. “Get the fuck off me!”
Slade dragged her away from the creature. Her feet slipped on the slime trailing from the hideous monster. Her fall allowed the blazing light to drench the creature. The beast looked up and shied away, as though in pain. Slade’s eyes were riveted to the thing’s talons. His heart leaped when the claws slipped free.
“Run!” They scrambled to their feet. He didn’t take her hand again, frightened she’d fall. Frightened that the beast would come after him and take her down as well. Instead he pushed her, shoving her ahead of him. Thin, dark lines materialized through the shimmering light, growing wider the closer they came. The lines merged and turned into a solid rectangle, outlined by brilliant white.
A door! There was a door at this endless passageway.
MORGAN COULD FEEL SLADE’S HAND at her shoulder, propelling her forward. Through the piercing light, she caught a glimpse of double doors. They were almost free. But there was something wrong with her. She was fucking terrified. Morgan felt vacant inside. She was only half here, while the other half still waited….
Through the veil of understanding, she recognized Slade’s voice in her vision… you have to find forgiveness, Morgan… She ran, pumping one leg in front of the other, while inside she raced just as fast toward her end.
Please…. The ache in her chest was like a blow as she returned to that room and to the sting of the needle. She stared at her trembling hand as she pressed the plunger and the overwhelming fear and hurt returned. Happy birthday, Daddy…. You have to find forgiveness, Morgan… It’s like you don’t exist.
The devil took her hand as the drug raced through her system. This was her old friend. Her heart hammered and her thoughts swam. Something inside her kicked into action. Some life that hadn’t been beaten to death with her self-hatred… Stop Morgan… it’s too much… Morgan stop… MORGAN… STOP!
Through her blurred vision, she saw the plunger wait for her. Wait for her to end it all, to find that peace she so desperately needed… you have to find forgiveness, Morgan.
But how could she find forgiveness in others… when she couldn’t forgive herself?
That thought filled her head and thickened her throat. Morgan tried to swallow the lies she told herself. She pressed the syringe, pushing that black stopper all the way to the very end—there was nowhere left to go. As the drug rushed through her system, Morgan felt something burst forth inside her. Something she thought had abandoned her long ago. Her heart shook, shuddering with power as the light burst. Someone was with her, someone who was calling her home.
Forgive yourself, Morgan. Forgive….
The devil smiled as the H took hold… well hello, old friend… he whispered… we meet again. Her last thoughts were of the power. The blinding heat that pierced her body and her soul. Morgan felt her body slide to the floor. There was nothing else she could do. She lost total control.
I’m sorry, Daddy….
His face came to her, sweet, deep brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled. He reached for her, brushing her hair from her eyes like he used to. His hand felt so real… he felt so real. “Morgan, my love. Why are you carrying a burden that was never yours to begin with?”
She tried to answer him, but could do nothing but whimper. Part of her was afraid of him, afraid of the words he spoke—afraid they were the truth.
“You weren’t to blame for my death. No one was. I hadn’t felt right all day.” He stroked her head, his words sank into her mind, filling the cracks, melting the blame she carried. “I was glad you were there, glad you chose that night to come. I was a damn stubborn fool pushing you away like that. I love you, Morgan. I always have and I always will.”
The words that she’d shoved way down into the blackness of her soul broke free. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m so sorry for all the hurt.”
He shook his head. His eyes darkened and a shadow of regret moved in. “The only hurt you caused, Morgan, was to yourself. Forgive, Morgan… forgive yourself, and move on.”
Desperation filled her chest like a hollow ache, haunted by unfinished business. It was an accident. That thought released a torrent of guilt inside her and she was swept away. What was broken now felt healed. It’s wasn’t my fault. I loved him and it wasn’t my fault.
Her soul echoed with joy, and for the first time in her life, Morgan felt peace.
LIGHTNING SLASHED DOWN HIS SIDE as Slade shoved Morgan toward the doors. He left her body to throw a block into the beast. A blow k
nocked him sideways as Morgan pushed through the door. He felt himself falling. He wasn’t going to make it, but that was okay. She was safe… Morgan was safe and that’s all that mattered. She turned to him at the last moment.
He saw her glance to the beast at his back and let the door fall into place. Slade tried to reach out for her, to push her away, but she missed his blow. Instead, she wrenched him toward her, without saying a word. There was something not quite right with her. Her eyes were milky and opaque. Her face was so pale that her lips disappeared. When she reached for him, he saw a jagged hole in the crook of her arm.
Morgan’s lips moved over and over. Slade bit down, muffling his screams, as Morgan dragged him forward. He stumbled forward, pushing her through the doors and through to the other side.
The thump of the doors sounded behind them, cutting off Morgan’s whisper next to his ear. He held her tight. Her words mumbled over and over against his ear while he stared into the light.
It wasn’t my fault… I loved him and it wasn’t my fault….
A darkened shape moved toward them through the light. A man, judging by the build, beckoned them forward. They’d made it. They were safe and they were together.
Morgan spoke faster. Her words now a litany.
I’m free. I’m free. I’m free
He opened his mouth to tell her it was alright, they were safe. She’d faced her demons and won, but the sweeping sound of the door snatched those words away.
The movement was quick. Morgan fell to the ground and as she was yanked toward the door, the light burned brighter than ever before, branding the demon’s hand gripping her. The slimy flesh sizzled, but the hold didn’t relent.
Slade barged against the door. The beast howled and pulled its hand back inside. “No you fucking don’t, you piece of shit. She stays with me.”
