“Are you waiting for something?” I asked.
“No. . .” he said, nervously.
“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time and I’d hate for you to have to be somewhere. They might wonder where you are and why you never showed up.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Oh, I’m not going to do anything, you are.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“First, I want to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“About Nathan.”
“Look, I am so sorry —” he began, but was interrupted by a rattling at the door.
“Oh, you lie! You have visitors,” I said with a smile, “Let me just go greet them. Don’t you dare move.”
“Don’t, Dani. Please don’t!”
“Say another word and I will murder whoever walks through that fuckin’ door,” I whispered to him, threateningly.
I stood in the doorway as the unidentified figures made their way in. As soon as they passed the threshold, I kicked the door shut and grabbed one from behind, putting the knife to their throat. She froze. I noticed that she was holding a young boy’s hand. He couldn’t have been more than a few years old.
“Christian!” she shouted. When I heard her voice, I immediately recognized it.
“Shhh, shhh, Cindy. It’s just me,” I whispered in her ear.
“No, no, no, no, please no,” her voice shook, “Dani.”
“That’s right. Now walk with me into the living room,” I said, nudging her forward.
“Aden, go upstairs,” she said, letting go of the little boy’s hand. He remained unmoved, too scared to leave.
“No, Aden, you stay with us,” I said, releasing Cindy, “Take him with you.”
“Dani, if you fuckin’ touch him, I will kill you myself,” Christian said, enraged.
“Why? Because touching young kids is your job?” I said, walking behind him, “And you, why the fuck are you here? I should’ve known you’d stay with him.”
“I’m not with him!” Cindy shouted, “We broke up, but we have split custody.”
“Oh, that’s fuckin’ amazing! Wow, congrats, Cindy, looks like you can have children after all- and be just what Christian always wanted. A victim-making machine.”
“I don’t touch him!” Christian yelled.
“Sure, you don’t. I’m sure you told Cindy you never touched my brother either,” he averted his eyes, “Did you tell her you also molested your own little sister?”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Cindy exclaimed in disgust in Christian’s direction.
“I kid you not,” I said, as I paced the room, “But don’t worry, Cindy, we’re going to fix that today.”
“What do you mean, ‘fix it’?” asked Christian.
“Let me put it this way. I can’t hurt you. You can’t hurt me,” I said, dragging the knife across my arms and letting them watch the wound close up as stray droplets of blood bounced off the living room tiles.
“Aden, don’t look,” Cindy said, as she shielded him by putting his face into her chest, while her sight remained locked on me, mesmerized.
“What the fuck?” Christian said, wincing and trying to look simultaneously, “What the fuck is wrong with you? How did you do that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, for some reason I can’t hurt you because you’re a sick fuckin’ parasite who feeds off other people. You can’t hurt me, because I’m indestructible. However you can hurt you,” I said, placing the knife in front of him on the coffee table.
“I don’t know why the fuck they let you out of the hospital. You’re still fucking crazy.” Christian said.
“Yes, that I certainly am. Aden! Come sit with your cousin,” I said, walking over to Cindy, grabbing his hand, and leading him away from her. I sat back down in the chair with Aden in front of me, looking in Christian’s direction.
“Okay, okay, stop,” Christian said.
“Stop what? I just want to hang out with my cousin. Aden, do you want to see you father do a trick?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, turning to face me. He attempted to bury his head in my lap, on the verge of tears.
“Oh, come on!” I said, lifting his head up and turning him around to face Christian once again, “It’s going to be a really good one.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dani?” Cindy yelled.
“I told you I’d come back for you, Christian. I thought of all the ways to kill you, all the wonderful ways. Then something dawned on me: I don’t want to kill you, I want you to suffer, and I want to be able to watch that suffering for a really, really, really long time.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Well, now, this is so exciting. I didn’t know we would have guests, so I think I’ll let Cindy take the lead,” I said, glancing over at Cindy, “Cindy, Christian has a very serious perversion. You know this. I’m sure you always wanted payback for all the times he beat and bruised you. So I want you to take that knife and stab him where you think it would hurt him the most- without killing him, of course.”
“And if I refuse,” she asked.
I placed my hands over Aden’s ears and whispered, “It won’t end so well for Aden.”
Cindy immediately got up, snatched the knife off the table and plugged it into Christian’s crotch. I placed my hand over Aden’s eyes and he held my hand tightly against them. Christian yelped and cried out in pain.
“Again,” I said.
“Wait, no, sto —” Christian pleaded, as he keeled over on the couch, causing Cindy to hit more of the inner thigh than his crotch.
“One more time!” I commanded. This time she used both hands and thrust downward. She must have hit him in the place where it could hurt most. He cried out and grabbed himself, as if he was attempting to keep it from falling off. Blood dripped from the couch and onto the floor, and Christian continued to writhe in pain. Cindy tossed the knife back on the table and returned to the opposite couch, burying her face in her hands.
“Sit up!” I yelled at Christian.
“I can’t,” he cried, rolling around on the couch.
“Sit the fuck up and look at me. We’re not done.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” Christian spat, “What the fuck else do you want?”
“That was for my brother, this is for my mother. You see, my mother killed herself because of the things that haunted her, the things that you did,” I said.
“She’s not completely innocent in this, Dani. I don’t know how much you know. but I’m sorry —” he began.
“Say sorry one more fuckin’ time, Christian. I swear, say it one more time, and I will murder your entire family in front of your eyes.”
“Jesus Christ, Dani!” Cindy gasped.
“Shut up!” I said, glaring over at Cindy, then returning my attention to Christian, “You see, my mom killed herself. She missed out on her life, my life, and Nathan’s life. She’s not going to get the chance to watch her kids grow up, see what they become, watch them fall in love with people, go to prom, get married and neither are you.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, “Wa — wa — wait, no. I can’t do that! Please don’t make me do that!”
I leaned forward and inched the knife closer to him.
“It’s totally your choice. And don’t go easy, make it count.”
I let my shadow release from me.
“Watch him for a second while I witness this,” I commanded my shadow. It placed its arms on Aden’s shoulders.
“Wait, what’s that? What are you doing to him? That’s your demon, right? Your shadow, like Grandma Elizabeth had. Get it away from him! Don’t let that monster touch him!”
“Do it, and it will release him.”
Aden began to obtain a pale hue and waver in his stance.
“I don’t feel good, mommy,” came his first words as he ru
bbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Christian, do it!” Cindy screamed.
“Better hurry,” I suggested.
He ripped the knife off the table and looked down at the tip of the blade. He looked over at his son. He jabbed lightly at his eye, inflicting immediate pain.
“Not hard enough,” I said.
He jabbed again, much harder, producing blood. He sobbed as he did it. I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from the idea that he would never see his son again.
“And the other one,” I said.
He sobbed from his knees, and blood, slobber, and tears dripped onto the coffee table. The knife was still in his hands.
“Please, please no,” he begged.
“You have three seconds. Two one,” I said. He glanced once more at Aden, who had his eyes shut and his ears covered, then plunged the knife into his right eye. Deep, on the first try. He dropped the knife on the glass of the coffee table. He curled up and cried and screamed in pain.
“Let him go,” I commanded of my shadow. It looked down at the boy and saw that it remained gripping him. The look on its face did not mimic my rage. It had a look of compassion as it held the boy, “I said, let him go.”
It released him and he made his way into his mother’s lap, crying hysterically. All of them were crying and shouting and terrified. It was everything I had always wanted. I stepped into the garage and grabbed the box with my great-grandmother’s journals and returned inside to the hysterical crying and screaming. I gathered the remainder of my things to leave and headed for the door.
I glanced down at Cindy, as she held her son. She glared up at me with hatred. I had a lingering temptation to apologize but the words escaped me.
“You’re worse than him,” she said with pure hatred.
I heard glass shatter and began to awaken. I was still in the doctor’s office, soaking in the tub and listening to their consultation in mummers. The words slowly began to fall into place as I regained consciousness.
“Something’s not right,” the doctor said.
“What do you mean? Did it work or not?”
“It worked. . . It worked perfectly. Here’s what you’re looking for,” he handed Franklin a Post-it.
“Of course,” he said, as he read it. “You can understand how this might not be ideal?”
“There were no other options, and that will give the desired effect every single time.”
“Good, so what was the problem?”
“She’s missing something, something in her past. I’d like to do more tests.”
“What do you mean, ‘missing something’?”
“I mean, there are gaps in her memory of traumatic events that should be there.”
“How do you know?”
“The first person she killed, she couldn’t give me a reason for.”
“So she lied?”
“It’s not impossible, but highly unlikely.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s virtually impossible to lie when the drug takes effect. There would be clear signs of resistance, and perhaps she could manage one lie, but not several.”
“Maybe she didn’t have a reason; maybe she’s just a sociopath. I mean, you heard what she did to that guy. She’s completely sadistic, in the most perfect way imaginable, she’s exactly what I need. Possibly too perfect.”
“An answer for that would have been more along the lines of ‘I felt like it’ or ‘I just did’, she clearly said she didn’t know. When I asked her about the accident, she said she didn’t know who she was with. That information should be easily accessible. Her mind seemed to detour away from those memories. I would assume amnesia, but as you’ve said, her body heals naturally and immediately.”
“So why is this a problem for me?”
“It makes her unpredictable. Your weapon could turn on you.”
“Weapon?” I asked, interjecting into the conversation. Both of them glanced my way.
“That’s right, Danielle —” Franklin began.
“You might feel a little unusual for a day or so, the medicine can take time to wear off. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to visit with you again.”
“I don’t mind. What did you do to me?”
“We’re hopeful that we have, for the most part, isolated your ‘shadow’, as you call it.”
I glanced toward the mirror and noticed the mirror had shattered.
“How?” I replied, suspiciously.
“We determined your strongest trigger and contained that correlation.”
“I don’t understand, what trigger?”
“While she’s restrained, Franklin, do you care to do the honors?”
“I’d love to,” Franklin said, positioning himself in front of me, and crossing his hands, “Christian.”
The world faded into a haze of red, then black. A direct strain of consciousness evaded me. I was thrown into a high adrenaline, rage of chaos. I had embodied my shadow. The desire for death and destruction consumed me. I looked at Franklin and the doctor as they stood in front of me in admiration. Their voices were a hollow echo, I watched their life force pulsating under their skin, as small white wisps clinging to their physical bodies, a smoky hue around them. I attempted to get up from my seat to have a taste of the life that trembled just below the surface, but I felt the binding still wrapped around me and struggled to free myself. My anger at my confinement began to produce heat.
“Holy fuck!” I heard a voice echo.
The wraps began to slowly melt away and I freed myself as darted across the room toward the doctor.
“Give her a minute.” Echoed Franklin’s voice.
I ran my hand close to the doctor’s shoulder, as he stood tense and motionless. I ran my fingers through the smoky essence radiating from him. As my hand caressed his soul, I began to absorb it. An ultimate high began pulsing through my blood stream. I touched him and absorbed more of him. It was like trying to stop eating the perfect meal on the brink of starvation. I could not stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to consume all of it, as much as possible, everyone. I grabbed harder, and I took more and more. I felt Franklin’s hand pull me back. I reacted to this unwelcome gesture by shoving Franklin back with a great deal of force that hit him hard across the chest.
“Stop!”
Color returned to the room immediately. My sick desire disintegrated. I was standing above the doctor, who was now down on his knees, trying to steady himself. I tried to help him up, but he put his hand out.
“Just just give me a second.”
Franklin paced the room, laughing to himself and rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop,” I said.
“You. . .” Franklin said, putting a hand on each of my shoulders, facing me, “are absolutely perfect. Doctor, are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I suddenly feel like I’m recovering from the flu, but I’ll be okay. I think I’m done for the day though,” said the doctor.
“Done?” Franklin exclaimed.
“Yes, but like I said, I would really like to meet with Danielle again —”
“Oh, Doctor, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for all you have done, consider us even,” Franklin said.
“Yes. Of course, sir.”
“Well, he may be done for the day, but, Danielle, our night is just getting started,” Franklin said with a smile.
Chapter Seven
Vulnerable
Have you ever awoken with a deadly hangover? Everything hurts. Your body aches in every place imaginable. You wish that everything would just stop moving for one second, but the world spins and you feel sick. You’re disgusted with yourself and just want to rewind and do everything again. I had not consumed a substantial amount of alcohol the night before, but I felt that same disgust pulsing through my veins. Franklin had many favors that he needed from me the night before. We had a long night, an int
ensely fun night- much of it, I fail to recall.
As my alarm chimed in my ear, I wondered what it was exactly I was awakening for. Did I have responsibilities that needed tending to? No, I had nothing to do. On any other day, I preferred to be awakened at a reasonable hour. I considered calling Caro and seeing if perhaps she would want to meet for breakfast but decided against it. I wasn’t sure what I intended to do today but knew there were things that needed to be tended to. I wanted to know more about what Franklin had had done to me. Had he improved me or merely disturbed the demon inside?
I laid on my bed, waiting patiently for something to bring me to life. Then I got my sign.
Knock, knock.
Was that knocking at my door? Perhaps it was a neighbor’s door. It was so faint, I wondered if I had imagined it. However, yet again, I heard that faint knocking. I sat up from my bed and listened once more to see if it was actually in my imagination or if someone had had the audacity to knock at my door.
Knock, knock, knock.
There it was again. I sat up in my bed and surveyed my appearance. I was disheveled but dressed, nonetheless. I made my way to the door to see who might be knocking at this hour. It was eleven in the morning. I suspected I had gone to bed close to four last night. Seven hours, that was sufficient. I grabbed the doorknob and cracked the door. I braced for an unwelcome guest, perhaps, Jonathan, from down the hall. It was not what I had suspected.
“Can I help you?” I asked a much older woman on the other side of the six-inch gap in my doorframe.
She was an adorable older lady. White hair, glasses, with a variety of wrinkles and a kind face.
“I made some breakfast for myself and had plenty left over. I thought maybe, you would like some of the leftovers. I see you around frequently but I never see you with food,” she said with a kind smile.
I peered out the door to see she had a plate with plastic wrap over the top. I attempted to see what she might have made and if it was to my liking, then realized I didn’t care what it was. I was hungry, so hungry, in fact, that I would have gladly taken it even if she had a plate of dog food.
“I like food,” was all I could manage to say in response.
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