by Jon Athan
As his head swayed, Shawn responded, “You... You killed a man, Aiden. You murdered an innocent person. You didn't have to do that... You didn't have to... You killed him, Aiden...”
Aiden nodded and calmly said, “Yeah, I know. I pulled the trigger. I shot the man. I actually shot the man twice. One to the neck, one to the head. I can admit to my dastardly deeds. I, Aiden Anderson, killed a man.”
Shawn shook his head and said, “You killed a man, Aiden. Don't you understand? You're worse than me. I was a bully, you are a murderer. That's... That's something you have to live with for the rest of your life. You're a monster. I mean, you're... I don't know what you are anymore.”
“I know what I am. I know what I have become. You made me worse than... well, than yourself. It may sound like I'm spinning or shoving off my responsibility, but I truly am a product of your bullying. You made me what I am today.”
Shawn gazed into Aiden's hollow eyes. He searched, riffling through the evil and anger, but to no avail. He could not find a shred of remorse. Aiden's demeanor was as cold as ice. His humanity had vanished with his innocence.
Shawn said, “I don't believe it. You can't create a monster like that from bullying. You can't... You were born this way. You were always an evil person. Even in high school I could see it in your eyes. You were a freak... You were a fucking weirdo and a...”
Aiden interrupted, “That's enough. We'll have to agree to disagree on this one. I see it's obvious now: there's nothing I've said or done to make you feel responsible for your actions. You're still finding ways to blame everyone else. I can take sincere responsibility for murder, but you can't take responsibility for your bullying. It's truly amazing.”
“That's not true...”
“That's enough. Shut up when I'm talking. I hate it when you interrupt me. It's not a major concern now anyway. We still have one more challenge. One more chance to make a change. The final challenge. The game is almost over, Shawn. I can see the finish line from here and I can hear the audience cheering. They're clapping and yelling for one of us, friend, but I don't know who's in the lead. You might come in first place, I don't know. We'll have to wait and see.”
Shawn frowned as he crawled up two steps, shuffling away from Aiden. The stairs groaned from his weight. He swiped at the blood and sweat dripping down his forehead as he searched for comfort. The solace he sought was absent. He was surrounded by melancholy and dread. The finish line was near, but he could not find the silver lining.
Shawn shook his head and said, “I don't care, I'm not going back out there. Cops are going to be swarming the streets looking for us, people are going to be afraid. I... I can't do it. I won't do another one. I'm done.”
Aiden nonchalantly shrugged, then explained, “You don't have to go anywhere. This challenge will be at home.” As he spotted the sudden fear in Shawn's eyes, Aiden smiled and said, “Don't worry, it's not another physical challenge. You won't be eating another cup or stabbing yourself. It will be humiliating, but it will also feature unbearable emotional pain. It will scar you for life. It's truly the most wicked challenge I've ever devised. I think this one will hit hard.”
Shawn asked, “What is it?”
“Well, you'll have to wait and see. You don't want me to spoil the ending, do you? I think I've done a great job keeping it hidden. It's just so... so unpredictable and wild, especially for a man like yourself. You're completely oblivious. It would spoil the fun if I told you now.”
Shawn clasped his hands in front of his chest and pleaded, “Please, Aiden, I can't handle more surprises. I mean, you have a gun for crying out loud. You never told me that. You've been changing the rules all night. Tell me what you have planned. Are you going to kill someone else? Are you going to kill me? Are you... are you...”
Aiden waved his hand and said, “That's enough of that, Shawn. You'll have to wait and see. For now, go up and take a shower. Relax for a minute. Clean yourself up. Change into something nice. I laid out a nice outfit for you in the bathroom while you were at the market. Frankly, I think this ended up perfectly. You smell like shit, so a shower should help.”
Shawn's bottom lip quivered as he examined Aiden's demeanor. His true intentions were indecipherable. His sudden shifts in mood were petrifying – from angry to calm, from murderer to benevolent. Shawn could not plan his next move. His adversary was fickle.
Shawn stuttered, “O–Okay...”
As Shawn staggered to his feet, Aiden said, “And, Shawn, don't try to escape this time. Judging from that gash on your head, I think you understand the consequences of crossing me.” Aiden pulled his handgun from his waistband and aimed it towards the ceiling. He said, “And, well, now you know I have a gun. Don't do anything stupid. Don't take my kindness for weakness. Just take a shower and come right back. Take that as your last warning.”
“I understand...”
As Shawn turned towards the stairs, Aiden said, “One last thing... You wouldn't happen to have that pen, would you?” Shawn rolled his eyes and walked up the stairs. Aiden smirked and said, “I'm serious. That was an expensive pen. I can still use it if you have it... It was a gift from my father, Shawn.”
***
Shawn trudged up the creaky stairs. His legs wobbled with each step. He tightly gripped the handrail and clenched his jaw. Pain surged through his body with the slightest movements. His head throbbed from the savage beatings he had endured throughout the night. His body ached from his arduous exercise. The challenges had taken a toll on his body and psyche.
As he reached the top of the stairs, Shawn whispered, “It's almost over... The finish line is right there, isn't it? It's right there...”
The second story opened up to a hallway. The first door to the left led to Shawn's home office. The left wall splintered into a spacious living place after the first door, then turned back into the hall. The final door to the left led to the makeshift nursery.
As he gazed at the baby's room, Shawn said, “I'm... I'm so sorry, kiddo. I hope you never see me like this. I hope it never comes back for you.”
The first door to the right led to the bathroom. The final door to the right led to the master bedroom. Shawn couldn't help but chuckle as he found some comfort in the second floor of his home. The area was pleasantly normal. He found himself hypnotized by the sweet allure of sleep. His chamber of slumber called his name, whispering a lullaby into his ear.
From afar, Shawn could see the master bedroom was cracked open. A flashing light seeped into the hallway. Shawn shambled forward, stretching his head like a giraffe for a better view. He could hear the television – a group of friends arguing about comics in a sitcom. He could hear a soft snore, like a cat purring. Shawn softly chuckled as Maribel crossed his mind. Thinking about his wife brought a jovial smile to his damaged face.
Shawn whispered, “She must be sleeping with the TV on again. Always sleeping with the TV on... Damn, Maribel, all hell broke loose and you didn't even notice. I suppose that's a good thing for you... for us...”
Shawn sauntered into the bathroom, his toes wiggled from the gelid tile flooring. The light buzzed and flickered, then settled. The bright fluorescent lighting bounced off the spotless white walls. Directly to the right, there was a marble counter with a sink; there was a medicine cabinet installed on the wall above.
On the same wall, beyond the counter, there was a pristine toilet anchored to the floor. A shower-bathtub combination waited on the parallel wall from the counter. A set of clothing sat atop the toilet seat – a dress shirt, pants, underwear, and socks.
The temporary relief Shawn felt while thinking about Maribel immediately vanished as he turned towards the medicine cabinet. His teeth chattered and his eyes swelled with tears as he gazed into his reflection on the mirror.
Shawn stuttered, “Wh–Who... Who are you? Who the hell are you? Huh? You're not... No, you're not me. You can't be...”
His lips, his gums, and his teeth were stained with blood. His eyes were bruised and
his nose was swollen. Blood streamed from the wounds beneath his unkempt hair. The crimson rivers dripped down his forehead, blending with the black marker and the beads of sweat. There were several scrapes across his right shoulder and arm.
Shawn stared down at himself, diligently inspecting the severe damage. His feet were begrimed and blackened. His left hand was drenched in blood, like if he had dipped his fingers in red watercolor paint. Blood dribbled down his inner thighs, coursing towards his knees. The vulgar markings across his body were smeared. Only a few letters were readable, the rest was a puzzle of muddled nonsense – remnants of a terrifying night.
As he sobbed, Shawn whispered, “What happened to me? Why... Why did I let it go this far? Why didn't I just... Crap... Why didn't I... Why?”
His health and appearance had deteriorated in a single night. His body had been ravaged and defiled. The man in the mirror was unrecognizable. His body was a vessel in disguise. Staring into his reflection was like starting into another man's eyes and calling them his own.
Shawn whimpered as he turned towards the bathtub. He turned the protruding knob, then despondently stared at the running water. The shower head spurted boiling water. The steam in the room caressed Shawn's atrocious injuries.
Without any preparation, Shawn stepped into the tub. The scalding water coursed down his body as he gently rubbed himself with a white loofah. The mortifying messages and drawings scrawled on his body were washed by the searing water, whisked away like a wave swallowing a message in a bottle.
The blood stained on his skin streamed to his toes and swirled down the drain like a scene from a horror movie. The loofah cleansed the aftermath, but it could not scrub the pain away. He could not clean the psychological damage. As he planted his forehead on the wall, Shawn bawled. He bellowed from the agony. The negative thoughts dominated his delicate mind, teasing his inflated ego.
Brimming with uncontrollable emotions, Shawn angrily muttered, “Why'd you come back, Aiden? Huh? Why couldn't you just let it go like everyone else? Why couldn't you just go away? Why couldn't you just kill yourself, you damn bastard? Why?”
Shawn staggered to his knees, then leaned back in the tub. His body was pummeled by the scorching droplets of water – rain from Hell. He absently gazed at the ceiling as he reflected on the distressing night, hoping he would awaken from his nightmare.
Shawn whispered, “Why couldn't you just let it go like all the other normal kids? Why did it stick with you for so long? Why did you come back for me? Why?” He shut his eyes and ruminated, pondering the past. The running water was a soothing tranquilizer. Shawn said, “I'm sorry, Aiden. I'm sorry for everything...”
Chapter Eleven
The Fifth Challenge – Dinner
A slow and tuneful piano echoed through the home. The harmonious violin and viola blended to create a wondrous melody – the bows elegantly gliding across the strings. The sweet and melodic tune was marvelous. The graceful music doused the room in a welcoming ambiance. Three glass pillar candle holders sat towards the center of the kitchen table. The flickering flames were useless compared to the room's bulbs.
Shawn moseyed towards the kitchen archway, his polished black dress shoes thudding on the hardwood floor. He donned a crisp white button-up shirt with a baby blue white-striped tie around his smothering collar. The shirt was tucked into his black pleated trousers. His hair was waxed and boyishly parted to the right. His wounds and bruises were blatant, but the blood had stopped oozing. His outfit was simple but voguish – the hour of preparation was beneficial to his appearance.
As Aiden shuffled by the sizzling stove, Shawn said, “I didn't know you'd be changing, too.” Shawn glanced around the room, then said, “I didn't think you'd pull out all the stops for this...”
Shawn ran his eyes over Aiden's attire. Aiden wore a matching ensemble – a white button-up shirt, a navy tie, black pants, and black dress shoes. His outfit was veiled by a large white apron. The garments fit loosely over his body. A spark of familiarity twinkled in Shawn's narrowed eyes. The words sat at the tip of his tongue, but fear stopped him from speaking – the idea was terrifying.
Aiden glanced towards Shawn and said, “I hope you don't mind, I had to borrow some clothing for our special occasion. Frankly, I looked like crap all night. Let's just be blunt about that. I've never been a fashionable person. I don't look much better now since your clothes are a little big on me, but it's a slight improvement. What do you think? Huh? You think it suits me well?”
Shawn tilted his head like a curious pup as he examined Aiden's demeanor and analyzed his words. He glanced down at his torso, connecting the pieces of Aiden's puzzle. His mind raced with the terrifying thoughts he had hoped to avoid.
Shawn whispered, “This is my clothing...” He glared at Aiden and asked, “Did you... Did you go into my room? Did you talk to Maribel?”
“No, no, I did it very quietly and quickly, I swear. I was as quiet as a mouse. With the TV on, she didn't hear a peep from me. If she did, and that's a big if, she probably thought it was you and went back to sleep. Trust me, Shawn, it's all fine and dandy.”
Shawn gazed at Aiden, analyzing his opponent once again. Aiden was nonchalantly cooking, clipping at the hidden meal with the steel tongs. His placid nature was eerie. He was unperturbed by the horrific events at the mall – murder did not take a toll on his conscience. Shawn stared up at the ceiling, contemplating Maribel's well-being.
Shawn said, “I should probably check up on her...”
Aiden gave off a mellow shrug, then responded, “Go ahead, pal. Do what you have to do. If you don't trust me, which I find a bit offensive, go up there and check up on her. But, remember, the sooner we finish this, the sooner you can crawl into bed with your wife and kiss this night goodbye.” Aiden smirked and joked, “You can kiss me goodbye, too.”
Shawn nervously chuckled and rubbed the nape of his neck, then said, “I don't... I mean, I should...”
“Listen, Shawn, do whatever you want. I'll be a little more lenient now. Besides, the game is almost over. I mean, think about it. This is really the first time you've mentioned her since we started our little game. This is the first time we're actually talking about her throughout the entire night. A few more minutes shouldn't make a difference, right?”
Shawn could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he could feel the thoughts stampeding through his brain. The finish line was in his field of view. A few more minutes and he could finally awaken from his nightmare – his past would be silenced and his future would be salvaged.
As he tried to rationalize his decision, Shawn murmured, “The television... She was snoring... She was...”
Before Shawn could decide, Aiden said, “Have a seat, my good friend. Dinner is almost ready.”
Shawn glanced up at the ceiling, then gave a slight nod. He carefully sat in the seat closest to the arch entrance – his seat for the night. He grimaced from the pain echoing through his injured body. Aiden turned the knob on the stove and the hissing of the flame dwindled. As he vigorously wiped his hands with a white hand towel, Aiden took his throne.
Shawn asked, “Dinner? Is that what this is all about? The... the music and the candles, it's for dinner? You must be forgetful, Aiden. I already had dinner, remember?” Shawn leaned back in his seat and sighed, then said, “That's when you showed up to ruin my night. That's when... when you tried to ruin everything.”
Aiden chuckled, then explained, “I remember. I was watching you from the parking lot. I even remember what you ate. Don't worry, though, this will be a much smaller meal. In fact, it's practically a snack. A midnight snack, right? It won't fill you up, but it's something you must eat in order to complete the challenge. Like the rest of our night, it's a reflection of the past. We'll get to that soon.”
Fear glimmered in Shawn's eyes as the sense of normality and security vanished in an instant. Another challenge, another trip down memory lane. He sped down the cluttered network of roads in his mind, s
earching for the proper images to no avail. He struggled to link a home cooked meal to his teenage bullying.
Filled with doubt, Shawn whispered, “Tea and crumpets?” He stared into Aiden's eyes and said, “I can't do something like that again. I won't do another 'tea and crumpets' challenge. I won't inflict any more pain on myself. I won't do it, Aiden. I mean, damn, you said the physical challenges were over. You promised.”
Aiden smirked and responded, “They are, Shawn. They're all over. I kept my promise, take it easy. This will not hurt you physically. There won't be another mark on your 'precious' body, I swear. This is purely a humiliation challenge. I suppose it might be more of an emotional attack, though. I want to do something you will never forget...”
***
The melodious music looped, playing the same piano, violin, and viola. The sound of the hissing flames and sputtering pan crackled over the smooth tune. The tantalizing aroma of steak danced through the kitchen. Shawn and Aiden sat in absolute silence, patiently waiting for the next word. Aiden planned his charge, Shawn sought a counterattack. The pair sat in solidarity, not a quiver or a wiggle of a single muscle.
Aiden leaned forward, elbows on the table and fingers on his chin, then said, “I'm absolutely positive this one will ring bells. You can't forget something like this. It's impossible. You can't just bury the past and expect it to disappear. Someone will always dig it up to find the truth. So, let's do some digging. Let me ask you something... Do you remember senior year in the bathroom? When you...”
Shawn sternly said, “I remember.”
Aiden nodded and responded, “I thought so. I knew you'd remember. Angry parents, a condemned faculty, prying press, a police investigation... It had the makings of a blockbuster movie. It was big, it was huge.”
