by Casey Lane
The vision faded and I was back in the apartment. The ache to my side welled up and tried to overtake me.
“Halo?” he asked.
“David?” I choked out.
“No! It isn’t David; it’s me you bitch!” he screamed in anger.
I stared up at him and hissed. “Finish it, you piece of shit!”
He took one step back from me.
I bent over and pressed my hand on the gaping wound. I looked back up at him. “Do it!”
I found the strength to stand up straight and bit my lip, then it trembled. He pointed a bloody finger at me and immediately started to rationalize the entire situation at hand to work in his favor.
“I don’t know why you push me, Halo! You and your damn mouth. You never learn!”
My eyes tried to follow him as he walked back and forth in front of me creating a dark shadow. Then he stopped and wagged his finger at me again. My eyes locked onto his hand, and my vision returned to me.
“If you would just shut up and do as you’re told then none of this would have happened. This was you! All you!” he added with a swipe to his hair. He pushed it back out of his eyes. Bright blue and deceptive.
He was a liar, the best kind, but I didn’t care about that, I needed a murderer. Someone who could finish. Please finish this, Travis. Be good for something. Make the time I spent with you worth the torment. Become the weapon I need and end this. Please. End this now.
I swallowed, and the pain continued to wrap itself around me. My chest tightened and along with it, my lungs. Every breath started to become a chore, and the bleeding from my side marched on. He looked down at the wound, then back up into my eyes.
He hissed at me like a demon. “You bitch. This is all your fault.” He jabbed his bloody fingers at me and paused for a moment while he inspected it. He quickly rubbed it on the side of his jeans. Then he cursed out of anger. “Damn it!”
I parted my lips and wanted to say so many things, but flashes of memory began to engulf my mind.
The memory of my first communion consumed me. My mother was half conscious, and my dad sat there glaring at me. I had stood there in a white dress amongst girls who I would never know, never invite over, never befriend. I was ashamed of my life. Terrified to tell anyone for fear that he would kill my mother and brother, then me, then himself. That was the promise he made. The one that stuck with me and held me in place like I was sinking in wet cement.
God had abandoned me. I was sure of it. I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve it. The tears wanted to come but my dad’s steel blue eyes bore a hole through me, and instead, I pissed myself as the girls stepped back from me. My mom woke, and I can still hear her shrill laughter echoing in that church, breaking my heart and along with it, my spirit.
I stumbled and caught myself on the edge of our old couch as the church faded from my mind.
I looked up at Travis, and still, the words wouldn’t come. He was pacing back and forth in front of me, mumbling to himself. My eyes shifted as I heard an ambulance off in the distance and I spotted the phone on the small round table. I knew it would set him off, so I ran toward it, grabbing it as the blood on my hand left streaks on the cold white plastic. My fingers shook as I tried to press the small buttons.
9….1….
I felt an enormous hand wind itself up in the back of my hair. I was thrown backward, and away from the phone, it dropped and hit the floor, bouncing a few times as my body hit the hardwood and slid. I tried to crawl away while blood trickled from my mouth. His rough hands grabbed my ankles and drug me back to him in one quick movement. I cried out, blood seeping from my lips and leaving a trail across the floor. It quickly soaked into the dark wood.
Travis grabbed my hair and pulled me up with it wadded in his fist. My hands lifted, and I clawed at his skin. My lips parted, and I whimpered from the pain. He screamed at me and pushed me forward. My open palms slammed against the floor, and I crawled toward the old piano. The same one I had been forced to practice on as a child. My eyes floated up, and I could see the metronome clicking away.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
It was all I could hear.
The echoes of my dad’s voice haunted me. He kept instructing me to keep going or take another hit to the top of my bruised knuckles with the stick he held firmly in his balled up fist. The warm tears rolled down my blood-stained cheeks, and I could see the large blue butterfly suspended in a glass jar next to the metronome. How I wished so desperately that I could breathe life back into it as much as I wished I could escape him.
I reached up with my bruised and battered hand and pressed on the keys, leaving bits of myself behind as I fought to stand. My bloody fingerprints stood out against the white ivory.
I choked out a few words. “Travis, please. Please finish this. Please.”
I flinched as I could hear crashing in the living room. He was tossing pictures around, yelling at them incoherently before he would angrily fling them across the room. I took a step and then another, pressing my open hand against my side, blood oozed over my fingers and dripped to the floor. Every moment seemed to be slowing. Every beat of my heart labored in my chest. I felt my life slipping away. I needed it to end. I wanted closure, peace. Absolution.
I reached the large entryway and stared in at the broken vinyl records and glass strewn everywhere. I shook my head and glared at him. Travis stopped his temper tantrum and studied me. His eyes were glossed over with rage, and his chest was rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath.
He tilted his head, and his breathing began to slow down. The muscles in his jaw relaxed, and his fists unclenched. “Oh, baby.” He murmured as he looked me over. He took a step toward me with a hand raised in the air, and I stumbled back. He stopped and rubbed the side of his neck. Here we go. Now he’s going to try to convince me that he loves me. That it will never happen again. That I’ll be okay. This was the horrible cycle that we were in for the two years that he consumed my life. I knew it like the back of my hand.
“I—I, you’ll be fine. Just fine. It’s just a scratch, baby. Here…” He said as he looked around the room and then he ran to the bathroom and returned with a white towel in his hand. He slowly approached me, appearing innocent and frightened. It was all a lie. I had seen this so many times. Mr. Jekyll turning into Mr. Hyde. Travis was just like my father.
He was now hitting the guilt phase. God damn it. The thought of that infuriated me. I need this asshole to finish the job and let me rest.
He stopped a foot away from me and then slowly lifted the towel to my side. I removed my hand, and the blood gushed out of the gaping wound and soaked into my jeans. I felt light-headed and leaned on the wall. I had no idea how much time I had left, but I knew it wasn’t much.
“I loved him,” I whispered.
He pulled the towel back and then dropped it to the floor.
“What?” he asked me with a furrowed brow.
“I never loved you, Travis. I never will, but David…I loved him. I did. He was everything you could never be.” I said with as much conviction as I could. The truth was I didn’t love David, I was incapable of loving anyone without fear of losing them.
He leaned down and placed his hands on his sides.
“Excuse me?”
I started to laugh and leaned my head against the wall.
“It’s true. He has my heart, he always will, even in death, Travis. Even now, I love him.”
He stepped back, my words visibly stunning him. “Shut up.” He uttered.
I nodded and tried to stand up straight. I started to laugh, and a small trail of blood rolled out of the corner of my mouth and down my chin.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, visibly shaken.
I pointed at him, and my hand shook. I couldn’t control it. “You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison for killing me, and you deserve it, all of it, so do me a favor while you’re
sitting on death row, tell my daddy hi.”
He backhanded me with a closed fist. I let out a small moan and hit the floor again, landing on my hands and knees. Blood dripped from my parted lips and hit the wood. I stared at it, and another flash of memory popped up from my childhood.
My eighth birthday. The last one that I had before everything was lost.
My mom had stumbled in with my cake in hand. She dropped it in front of me with a loud thud. My brother sat next to me, gripping my hand under the table.
She was high, as usual. She paused and tapped her hands on the table. Then the laughter started. It was quiet at first and then got louder and louder. She glared at me, and I could see the cut to her lip and blackened eye.
Then she started to sing happy birthday to me. Slow and sad. A precursor to so much yet to come. Our grandmother tried to touch her arm, and she slammed her fist on the table and continued singing. Suddenly she stopped.
“I could have been so much more. Escaped this town, if it hadn’t been for the two of you.” She spoke calmly, but her words cut right through me. I may have been young, but I understood regret and hatred, it was all over her face and settled deep into her eyes, blackening her soul.
“Don’t.” her mom muttered as she stepped up to her side and touched her back.
“Why? Why should I pretend that I wanted her? I only had her because it would have been a sin to get the abortion that I wanted! Griffin was enough; he will always be enough.”
My Grandfather stepped up to the other side of her, and together they removed her from the room as she kicked and screamed, yelling horrible things at me. Things a mother should never say to her children.
“You ruined my life you little bitch! Ruined everything! You should be like that fucking butterfly in the glass jar! Dead is dead!”
I let the few candles burn out and bury themselves in the cake that day and along with it, my heart.
Travis leaned down and whispered to me. “I’m going to bury you so deep that no one will ever find you, you bitch.” I blinked a couple of times. His words sank deep into my heart as it struggled to beat on.
I felt a strange power surge through me as voices whispered in each ear.
“Do it, do it, do it, do it.” They whispered in unison, many voices becoming one.
I spotted the knife. It stood before me protruding from the wood. It was blood-soaked and filled with hate. I gritted my teeth and grabbed it, rising to my feet, and in one long swing my arm shot out, and I buried that blade deep into his stomach. The reaction was delayed. The look on his face matched my own. One of shock and awe.
My body hummed with excitement. I had dedicated my life to saving those in need but knowing that I was ending this life gave me a strange feeling of pleasure.
I jerked it back, and his trembling hands reached up and touched the ever growing circle of red radiating out from the wound. Then I stabbed him again with more enthusiasm. This time a little higher. My strike was just as brutal as the first. He let out a moan that amused me. I guess I shouldn’t be so flippant about it, but I was. I enjoyed it as I twisted the blade this time. He cried out. The pain must be settling in. I no longer felt my own. I pulled back, and blood shot out from the gash and streaked across my face. I didn’t even blink.
“I’ll kill you.” His words slurred as he choked on his blood.
I shook my head and laughed. “No, I’m doing the killing tonight.”
I stabbed him again in the right part of his chest and jerked the knife back, quickly stabbing him in the side. My hand held steady; my heart beat slowed in my chest. I felt no pain at all. It had all slipped away with the thought of his demise. I can’t be certain if it was more for him or me, but each time I stabbed him, I felt better. Each time the metal buried itself into his skin I let out a sigh of relief. Releasing a lifetime's worth of regret, rage, and retribution.
Releasing the killer that lurked deep inside of me.
The darkness. The real me. The assassin that crawled beneath the surface of my skin.
He took a step toward me, and I grinned. I stabbed him in the eye, and the knife stuck. I let go and stumbled back, the reality of what I had done finally sinking in. I pressed my back against the wall. The knife just sat there, protruding from his face and was framed with his blank expression. Finally, he started to fall forward, like a tall oak with rotted roots.
His face slammed against the floor, and the knife busted through the back of his skull splintering pieces of his cranium up into the air. A piece of his brain slid down the side of the blade and returned to the gaping hole that the knife had left behind.
I let out a gasp and covered my mouth. Then the pain returned, only now it was more than anyone should be able to bear. I took a step and fell to my knees, then to my side.
Chapter Ten
My eyes fluttered, and things began to come into focus. I could hear music, a sad piece on the piano. It droned on, bringing with it a feeling of melancholy.
A familiar voice spoke to me as I tried to focus, but my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. “Bach Marcello: Concerto in D Minor, 2nd.”
“What?” I choked out, completely confused as to where I was or what was happening. Splintered memories of the horrific battle in my apartment made me hiss. I leaned forward, fighting through the pain. I could see a bloodied knife in my hand. I swallowed hard, clearing my throat and trying to maintain some sort of normalcy, but nothing was normal about my life. Nothing. The last seven days had been more than most could handle.
My voice sounded weak. “What’s happening?” I muttered as my vision continued to betray me.
“Such a sad song, written for his father, or so it’s said. Of course, I would never attribute anything to my father, he was, or is a beast, and deserves nothing but misery, oh, and misery you shall give this world my love, in spades. You will be the right hand of retribution and cleanse this wretched place of all that has tainted it. You will force the monster back under the bed and keep it there with an iron fist of reason. You…you, my most treasured one.”
I rolled onto my side as he spoke to me and placed my hand on my forehead. I could see a needle in the top of my hand, and I ripped it out with a hiss and stumbled out of the bed, feeling the cold hard floor beneath my bare feet. I held onto the side of the railing as a shadow approached me and then my vision returned. I took a slow breath, placing my other hand on my chest until a familiar face appeared before me and stole it away.
I gasped in shock. “Griffin? How could this be? You…you…”
Fin reached out and took my hand as I struggled to stand. He pulled me forward until I was staring out across the city through a large glass wall. His grip tightened, and I glanced over at him.
“Died?” he asked. “Oh, I have such wonderful things to show you, Halo.”
He turned and placed his hands on my face. His eyes looked different, paler. His pupils were dilated as if he was on some sort of stimulant. He leaned in and kissed my lips, lingering longer than he needed to. I moaned in disgust. His mouth left mine, and he reached up, pushing my hair behind my ear. His eyes floated over my face.
“You are a miracle….we, we are miracles and this world doesn’t deserve us. Either one of us.” He spoke with such conviction.
“I buried you, Griffin. I mourned your loss. It devastated me.” I scanned the room and could see a full lab behind us. Different colored liquids bubbled away in beakers fueled by fire. I spotted my bed and the machines that surrounded it.
“Oh my sweet sister, you needed this, you needed a little push.”
I shook my head as he walked away from me. He lifted his arms and stared out at the room.
“I don’t understand any of this. What…what have you done?”
He turned to face me, and his eyes switched to black and then back to normal. His jaw clenched as black lines rushed along his pale skin, rushing down his neck and then along his arms. He balled his fists and groaned. I flinched, and he held his hand up.
“Don’t be frightened; there’s nothing to fear now, my love. I’ll show you so many amazing things as we evolve and usher in a new world, a new beginning, replacing these weak, pathetic creatures who inhabit it now. They don’t deserve salvation but we shall offer it, and they will accept it or fall.”
I coughed and leaned forward, feeling the pain in my head overwhelming me. Nausea followed. I quickly looked down at my bloody side and lifted my shirt. My fingers shook as I inspected the scar on my skin. There were no stitches. It appeared to have healed on its own, which was impossible. I glared up at him in horror.
“Evolve? What have you done, Fin?” I asked.
“The pain will pass, trust me. I know.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know?”
He leaned toward me. “Because we are the same.”
“What?” I responded in horror.
“Come.” He paused and held his hand out to me. “Please, come with me, I’ll show you.”
He turned and walked away from me as I tried to keep my balance. I took a step forward then another as he walked from one room and into the next. I slowly made my way up behind him and then paused in horror as I peered up at a large tank with what appeared to be a man with large black wings spread out to either side of him. His eyes were closed, and he wore a white t-shirt and white pants with no shoes. He floated there, suspended in what appeared to be embryonic fluid.
“My God,” I muttered. I stepped up to get a closer look at him. He had blonde hair, soft features, and a strong nose. His shoulders were broad, and his skin was pale. Then he twitched in the liquid, and I stumbled back and felt Fin behind me. I turned and glared at him.
“What have you done?” I asked him. “What, what is this? What is he?”
He reached up and touched the side of my head, and I could feel his fingers against my skin. I backed away from him, and he licked his lip.
“Trust me, if there had been any other way, then I would have explored it, but so many failed…so many.” He glanced to the left, and I turned to see a row of matching tanks with people suspended inside of them. I parted my lips and began to shake my head.
