Dark Side: The Haunting

by J. M. Barlog

  It seemed, in a subsequent follow-up documented nearly a year after the boy's death, another psychiatrist in Vienna completely reversed Grayworth's position. Just before the boy's suicide, Dr. Vaullen-Schmidt began investigating the possibility that the boy had been, in fact, haunted by something from the next dimension.

  While analyzing the boy's latest suicide attempt, Vaullen-Schmidt realized that it had been quite literally impossible for the boy to have self-inflicted some of the wounds that nearly took his life. Yet there was no other explanation other than suicide for the wounds in the first place.

  A fellow colleague and medical practitioner to Vaullen-Schmidt demonstrated that the knife’s angle of entry was such that the boy's wrist would have to have been turned completely backward. It was then that Vaullen-Schmidt suspected the boy might have been telling the truth all along.

  In her final entry into the Lukenhan case file, Helena Vaullen-Schmidt wrote that a Doppelgänger could have possibly been terrorizing the boy, and that Josef's final escape from the torment—suicide— had not been a suicide after all. Vaullen-Schmidt stated in her conclusion that young Josef had contended all through his treatment that he would never find peace until the Doppelgänger killed him. It very well may have been the only way to end his torment.

  Perhaps the boy had been right, Vaullen-Schmidt wrote as her final remark to the case.

  Though the learned community scoffed at her conclusion, none could provide evidence to disprove her claim that the wounds were not self-inflicted.

  Dwight stared at that final sentence in Vaullen-Schmidt's report for a long time. Three cases of reported Doppelgänger sightings, and in all three cases, the conclusion had been the same: suicide. The victims in all cases sought death as the only way to be free of their torment. But did they, in fact, take their own lives? Or did the Doppelgängers ultimately succeed in destroying the hosts from which they had become separated?

  Dwight shuddered. A footfall not far from him brought a jolt. He swallowed hard at the implications of this thoughts.

  Like Josef, Jenny might have been right all along. Maybe her ghost was trying to kill her. Maybe her ghost must kill her to pass into the next dimension. Now Dwight knew the ending. Jenny’s ghost would never relent until Jenny was dead. There could be no escape. There would be no peace in her life.

  ****

  Jenny sat on the sofa while Dwight sat across from her on the chair. Each had their own story to tell. Warren was quick to seize the opportunity. He had left when Dwight arrived, promising to return in time to make dinner. Jenny offered to cook, but Warren insisted she just do nothing until he returned.

  “We couldn't have discussed this over the phone,” Jenny started. There was so much to tell, she was unsure how she would get it all out.

  “Before you start, here's the number where I'm staying.”

  Jenny looked puzzled as Dwight handed her a piece of paper.

  “A friend's. He lives less than an hour from here. It's easier than driving back and forth to the university. Keep the number by your phone.”

  Jenny waited until Dwight returned to the chair.

  “You've uncovered something new?” Dwight asked, secreting away what he himself had learned hours earlier.

  “Unbelievable. I spoke to a nurse who was in the operating room the night of my accident. She told me...I think this might somehow help make sense of this whole situation. She told me that I died on the table.”

  Dwight's eyes became wide; he moved forward in the chair.

  My God, what was she saying, Dwight said inside his mind.

  “They were having trouble controlling the bleeding when my heart suddenly stopped. The nurse said Dr. Morrison massaged my heart for eight minutes trying to bring me back.”

  “Are you certain of this?”

  “The voices I hear are the doctors and nurses in the operating room. Alma Carter, she's the surgical nursing supervisor, confirmed saying one of the phrases I repeated.”

  Dwight rose from the chair. It all became so clear, so terrifyingly clear. He sat down beside Jenny and enveloped her hands within his.

  “Do you realize what you're saying?”

  “Not fully.”

  “When you died, your spirit left your body. It began the journey to the next plane. But the doctor brought you back. Somehow your spirit became trapped outside your body.”

  “How can that be? How can I be alive if my spirit...I don't even understand what I'm saying.”

  Dwight released her and began pacing. The facts of the Lukenhan case flooded into his mind.

  “That's why the Doppelgänger haunts you. Your spirit is caught between worlds, so to speak. It can't pass on to the next dimension because you're still alive. And for that same reason, it can't return to your body...”

  Dwight became suddenly silent. The Lukenhan boy had drowned, only to be revived by a loving father. Somehow his spirit must also have become trapped between worlds. Dwight could see the unmasked terror rising up into Jenny's eyes as she considered the implications of his statements.

  “If what you're saying is true...then the only way the spirit can go anywhere is to...”

  “Kill you,” Dwight said, barely above a whisper.

  “Oh my God.”

  Jenny began to hyperventilate; the room started to collapse around her with a burgeoning force. How could she…there was no way to ever be free of this.

  “The Doppelgänger has no alternative but to kill you. It will remain trapped between worlds as long as you're alive. In a sense, it can never find peace as long as you’re breathing.”

  Jenny buried her face in her hands, releasing a rush of tears. Her sobs became audible.

  “I have to kill myself...” she muttered.

  Dwight dropped to his knees before her and cradled her in his arms, feeling every muscle in her body tremble under the shock of what she now understood.

  “Don't say that! I won't let anything happen to you. There has to be something we can do....”

  “I can't oppose this terror. I can't win against this thing!”

  “Jenny, wait. Just hold on. There's got to be a way.”

  “How? What can we do? The ghost is going to torment me until she kills me. Then she will find peace.”

  “We don't know that for sure. Maybe there’s a way to exorcise it.”

  Jenny pulled her face up. Dwight was serious.

  “I don't know of anything else we could try,” he admitted, realizing that he, himself, was being drawn in to accept the inevitable.

  Despite his own desires, Dwight released Jenny and returned to the sofa, keeping Jenny's hands locked tightly in his. Words carried no weight anymore for Jenny Garrett. Nothing could be said or done to change what she must do.

  “What do you feel different in your life?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean some part of you has to be missing, I need to know what that part is.”

  “I don't know. The only thing I'm no longer sure of is my love for Warren.”

  28

  Since Jenny had not heard from Kate in more than a week, she assumed the agency was working well during her recovery. Knowing she might never be able to involve herself in the agency again, Jenny felt relief at the thought that some things could go on without her. There was too much happening to her that kept her in an almost constant state of angst. Dealing with people right now would be too much for her to handle. Of course, assuming is always a bad thing.

  Rosenstein's therapy would be all but useless. Delving into her childhood in the hopes of uncovering the source of her 'hallucinations' would be fruitless. Jenny had all the answers she needed. She felt a sinking in her stomach each time she even thought about going in for a session. She was resigned to the fact that nothing earthly could be done to help her now. But what did that actually mean?

  She also knew her involvement with clients would only worsen her emotional state and further erode her professional relationship with those that t
rusted her. During their last conversation, Kate had said she was more than happy to take charge and hold things together until Jenny felt ready to return. Jenny wondered how Kate could feel about having to hold the agency together herself from now on. Maybe Kate could even find a new partner?

  That was until the following Monday morning. Kate called and mysteriously asked to see Jenny immediately. When Jenny inquired as to why, Kate remained evasive, and there was an undeniable undercurrent of nervousness in her words. Kate insisted on a face-to-face meeting.

  Warren seemed excited about Kate’s imminent visit. It meant an afternoon out without worrying over Jenny. Lately, Warren had shown cracks due to the strain. His eyes had become dull and lifeless recently and he carried on with his household duties without so much as a smile. He knew nothing of what Dwight had told her and what she had learned in her visit with Alma Carter. She didn’t believe Warren could handle it. For the first time, Jenny contemplated suicide while she waited for Kate. Warren would grieve, but in time, he would go on with his life and find someone new. The thought sent shock waves rumbling through her. She cast aside everything. Warren would find someone new. Warren would find someone new. Why was that causing such a shudder through her? The words seemed to trigger some spark of a memory.

  An image flashed across her mind. It raced by too quickly for her to grasp it. But she glimpsed enough of it to realize it had to do with those missing days in her life. Warren…somebody new.

  Jenny's obsession with the voices, the ghost, and her marred appearance had kept Warren from straying from Jenny's side for the past three days. He needed a break from the stress. Even Dwight had been spending more time away from the house now that he had gained his precious evidence. Since their last discussion, Dwight seemed more reserved. He checked his equipment regularly but said little when they were together.

  The doorbell brought Jenny back to the moment.

  Warren showed Kate in and made sure Jenny had everything she might need close by. Then he excused himself without further pleasantries and promptly disappeared.

  Jenny situated herself on the sofa with her feet up and her back supported by a large pillow. Though physically comfortable, mentally Jenny wondered why Kate needed to see her so urgently.

  Kate's ragged eyes betrayed her worry and distress. A worry that consumed her mind until she appeared spent. She had become terribly thin over the past weeks and she appeared lethargic as she sat in Warren’s chair across from Jenny.

  The tremor in Kate’s hand while she lit her cigarette alerted Jenny that something was terribly wrong with Kate.

  Kate's voice oozed anxiety when she asked how Jenny felt, how she was recovering from the accident and when she might be back to work. Neither broached any subject that might turn painful.

  Until Kate suddenly asked, “are you aware the police are investigating your accident?”

  “Yes, a detective’s talked to me a few times for information about what really happened.”

  “What have you told them?”

  “Nothing. I still can't remember that night.”

  “They're saying it wasn't an accident.”

  Jenny remained level and calm.

  Kate appeared shaken at speaking the words.

  “Warren hasn't said anything to you about it?”

  “No, Kate. What are you trying to say?”

  “The police think someone tried to murder you.”

  “And?”

  “They consider me a suspect.”

  Jenny weighed her words. Her eyes never left Kate's, though a haze of smoke obscured Kate’s. It seemed Kate’s hand trembled with greater force now.

  “They've had me under surveillance...”

  “Why should they suspect you?”

  Kate paused, suddenly lost for words. She swallowed the smoke from her last drag, using it to steady her before continuing.

  “Please hear me out. I don't know if I have the courage to go through with this.”

  Kate rose.

  “Go through with what? Kate, what are you saying?”

  The words forced Kate to turn away in shame. Her life had turned to such shit. She hovered on the brink of totally falling apart before her best friend’s eyes.

  “Jenny, I've been...embezzling from the agency.”

  Jenny's face released genuine surprise. Never had she once felt Kate capable of doing anything dishonest or anything that could harm their friendship. They had been friends since college. How could Kate betray her this way? Then, in the ensuing silence, Jenny tasked her brain to recall those lost days. Had she uncovered Kate's improprieties? Had she confronted Kate with the truth?

  “How? But more importantly, why?”

  “I have a cocaine habit.”

  Jenny appeared visibly shaken by the news.

  “How long?”

  “A year. No, more than a year.”

  “But why?”

  “I'm sorry, Jenny.”

  Kate faltered, tears rushed to fill her eyes. Once they began, Kate became voiceless. She flopped back into the chair and buried her face in her hands as if too ashamed to face her friend.

  Jenny could say nothing. She was torn between reaching out to Kate and screaming at her to leave. Could Kate have been responsible for her accident? Would Kate try to kill her to save face for what she had done?

  “The police think I tried to kill you because of it. Jenny, you've got to believe me, I would never want to see you hurt. I was going to pay the money back. I was just trying to cover up my addiction. I'm sorry. Please, Jenny, you've got to believe me that I would never try to hurt you.”

  When Kate finished, Jenny let the thick silence linger for a long time. They seemed to work well together. They trusted each other for four years. Now this. But nowhere in her mind could Jenny find reason for Kate to want her dead...except for the insurance money. Kate would never. Would she?

  “I believe you, Kate.”

  “Jenny, what happened that night? What happened on that road?”

  “I don't know.”

  Jenny began to cry, carrying now the full weight of her friend's betrayal along with the terror that now controlled her life. How could anyone have wanted her dead?

  Jenny attempted to focus on the events of that night. Was there something locked in her memory that might help bring out the truth? Jenny searched deep inside, scraped out every corner of her memory, but still found nothing but a blank slate.

  “How can I ever trust you again?”

  “Jenny, I'm going to get help. I'm checking myself into a drug rehab upstate. I'll find a way to pay back the money I stole. I'll find a way to put everything right. Please just give me a chance to make things right.”

  “How could you have done this to me?”

  “I'm sorry. I got caught up in the power. I liked being on top. I liked what drugs and money gave me.”

  “What about the agency? How can we survive? I can't run the business right now.”

  “When can you come back? When can you take over the responsibility for the business?”

  “I don't know. Kate, I'm not ready for this. I can't handle this right now.”

  “You don't have to. I’ve brought in a consultant to manage the day-to-day until you can go back in. We can stay afloat for at least two quarters. Jenny, I'm going to fix my problem. I'm going to get back in line. Please don't hate me for what I've done.”

  Kate rose, sought the courage to go to Jenny, but turned away and charged out of the living room. A moment later, the front door closed. Jenny remained paralyzed on the sofa. She was consumed by the thought that someone wanted her dead.

  29

  Rick sat in the interrogation room with his eyes squared off against Kevin Murphy's. Kevin's unshaven face hung as if his skin had been draped over his skull. His eyes, reddened by exhaustion, alcohol and who knows what else, maintained a level stare. When he had been brought in, his clothes were a crumpled mess and his body emitted the odor of a garbage dump.

&nbs
p; “You've got to believe me. I had nothing to do with Kate beyond manipulating the books.”

  “You lying piece of dog shit,” Rick spat, enjoying every word and every squirm. “You probably masterminded this whole conspiracy.”

  “Please, just call Umberto at the Concord. He'll confirm that both Kate and I were there on September fifteenth. We ordered room service between nine and ten. There's no way we could have been at Diamante's that night.”

  Rick rose and slid in beside Kevin, as much as it dismayed him, and breathed heavily down his neck, avoiding the odors as much a possible by breathing in through his mouth and exhaling through his nose.

  “You know, we're going check every little detail of everything you've told us here.”

  Just then, Jenkins slipped into the room. He whispered into Rick's ear. Then he smiled with diabolic pleasure at Murphy, who had turned around to observe the exchange.

  “You are absolutely sure you don't want to change anything you've told me so far?”

  Both Rick and Jenkins glared at Kevin.

  “I'm telling you the truth. I wouldn't have anything to do with attempted murder. I'm not a killer, I'm just an accountant—a stupid fucking accountant.”

  “You can say that again, shitbag,” Jenkins said.

  “You think about it a while. I’ll be checking out your story,” Rick said before leaving Murphy alone.

  The interrogation room door closed with the kind of thud that intimated incarceration, leaving Kevin Murphy to stare at his trembling hands.

  ****

  Rick doled out Murphy’s information to Jenkins and Wilson, asking them to make preliminary telephone inquiries to check out Murphy's story. He hadn’t had this much fun in months. In the meantime, Rick had someone waiting for him in his office. Someone important enough to warrant pulling Walker out of his interrogation when it had just begun getting interesting. Rick was hoping he might get that little Murphy weasel to wet his pants before too long.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Garrett,” Rick said with obvious surprise on his face.