The Eyes Have No Soul

by Matthew W. Harrill

  “Clare. Clare?” Terrick continued.

  Gasping, she scooped up the phone. “Daniel. Daniel Acosador.”

  “Yeah, that was the name. You know him?”

  “He's our M.E. here at the precinct. You sure he never came back out?”

  “Been over all the footage myself. The man was the only one in before the young lady was found. Girl, you think that's him?”

  Those smiling eyes and the cut of his jaw covered by that raggedy beard. The way he had spoken straight to her soul that night as he played. It couldn't be. “I'll have to look into it. Terrick, thanks for calling. Just remain there a little while longer. Those people need you.”

  Clare stared at the phone before finding Tina's number. As ill as she was and as weary, she just didn't feel like sleeping. Maybe it was survival instinct pushing her body beyond its limits; if she fell asleep now she might never wake up.

  “Tina.”

  “I was about to come get you, Clare. You need to get to the morgue like right now. Bring Helen too.”

  Still clad in the boiler suit, Clare stumbled back to the morgue, Helen catching her several times as her legs gave way. The human remains had already been removed from the confrontation with the janitor. All that was left consisted of bloody marks and a weak iron tang in the air. The doors were wedged open, a series of Clare's fellow crime scene analysts moving about the morgue ahead of her, white clean-suits merging their outlines with the bright white of the walls.

  She smiled in greeting as several acknowledged her presence. “What is it?” she asked Tina.

  The detective came over and hugged her. “If only we'd known earlier.”

  “What? Known what?”

  “I've spoken to Sheriff Heckstall. Believe me when I say his assertion as to the identity of this thing looks beyond contestation now.”

  Clare's stomach tightened. Deep down she had still hoped they were wrong.

  “First, we have these.” Tina led them over to the storage units and pulled open two. “These bodies are missing certain vital parts. I believe you found them earlier.”

  “That doesn't tell us anything,” Clare countered.

  “Look closer,” Tina advised, pulling the slab all the way out.

  Clare did as bidden, her eyes scanning up what was left of the headless corpse until she saw very familiar markings. Red and puckered, the upper arm scars showed evidence of recent violent conduct but the skin torn, flesh missing. “Did he do this too?”

  “It would make sense if he did. He has a fixation on the creature that borders on hero-worship and would be an obvious culprit given the other mutilations. I was arriving at the same conclusion but then I had a look at the security footage.”

  Tina took them from the cold storage to the far side of the room, where a series of instruments and scopes surrounded by Plexiglas hoods sat alongside softly-whirring computers. “Watch this.” She typed in a code and set footage to playing. The room was empty to begin with. Nothing untoward that Clare could see. She leaned forward on the desk, hot despite the chill of the room.

  A man appeared on the screen, clad in a blue hoodie with the hood drawn up. He stumbled around, his head bowed. “Daniel,” Clare said, “If that's the same hoodie he wore in UMASS.”

  Another joined him, this man wearing a blue boiler suit. “The janitor,” Helen added. “We pulled his security badge and did some checking. He's been out a lot over the past few days. For hours at a time.”

  Clare recalled the image of the doorframe shattering next to her head as a bullet intended for her missed her by an inch. “He gets around.”

  Both men began to argue, the janitor waving his arms about with more animation than she'd ever seen. Acosador kept his head down but was no less passionate for it.

  “Where's the sound?” Clare looked for an icon on the screen.

  “There is none,” Tina answered. “I've tried that already. It's been disabled. There are two other cameras in here; neither worked in months. This one isn't supposed to but it looks like it got repaired. There's a repair request in the log but it had no action against it. Watch this. It's where it gets real weird:”

  Daniel shoved the janitor away, storming over to the cold storage. Pulling one open, Daniel proceeded to uncover the body. Pulling his sleeves up, he grabbed the cadaver by the upper arms, leaning over them as he appeared to pulse. His whole body began to spasm in a frenetic manner. A moment later the janitor appeared with a third person to pull Daniel off of the corpse. The person was tall, bordering on corpulent.

  “Harley,” said Helen.

  “So it appears,” Clare agreed. “He's well and truly screwed now.”

  On the screen the two cousins wrenched Daniel off the body, marks left in the flesh of the upper arms. Daniel turned toward them, his face exposed just for a second as he argued with Harley.

  Clare gasped. “Last night, the assault; it was him.”

  Tina hit the pause button. Acosador's face was emaciated, bereft of flesh just as Clare's own had become. What had been a proud beard now hung off his face in dense patches. His lips were drawn back, teeth bared but what stood out were his eyes. They were completely without colour, white as if he had rolled them back in his head. In the bright light of the morgue there was no luminescence but it didn't matter. The eyes in the dark shone at her. Given the frame of a face, Clare became terrified, stepping away.

  She lurched over to one of the desks, supporting the weight of her body with her hands as she gasped. “Daniel is Viruñas? All this time we've been working with him and he's that… that creature?”

  “A desperate creature by the looks of it,” Tina observed.

  Helen just stared at the picture, uncomprehending. “That's not real. It is a trick of the light? I've known him for years.”

  “It is real,” Clare countered. “I saw him last night. He tried to feed on me; he killed another trying to feed on them. We'll fill you in soon, Helen. Harley is guilty of a great many misdemeanours but he didn't kill my parents. This did. It hunts diabetics for the sugar in their blood. Moreover he hunts undiagnosed patients because of the sky-high concentrations.”

  “Is that why..? Oh Clare, what are you doing?”

  “I'm bait. I'm the only option they have to stop the monster before it disappears again.”

  “I might be able to help with that,” Tina provided. She sped the film up, while the janitor and Harley fought the creature as it assaulted more corpses. After a while all three moved away, toward the very computer that they were now watching the footage on. “The camera doesn't pick up which of these computers they used but something here caused this:” On screen Acosador hurried across the camera's view, while Harley and his cousin remained behind.

  Clare looked at the bank of instruments. “Three computers; take one each. There's something on here that shows where he went.”

  Clare took the computer on the right, next to Tina. Logging in revealed no information of use. Recent files used only pertained to recent victims and their medical reports. Before long, Clare looked away. “I've got nothing.”

  “I've got something here, Clare,” Helen said as she squinted at the screen. “Do you have a brother called Jeff?”

  Clare closed her eyes, swallowing. “I do. However I didn't submit my bloods under my name.”

  Helen turned the screen toward her. 'Jeff Rosser' shone out at the top of the screen. “There are some seriously elevated blood glucose levels here. Do you think Daniel knows they aren't yours?”

  “Not everybody realizes the bloodwork is in fact yours, not your brother's…” Clare quoted Harley's words from their confrontation upstairs. Her stomach began to tie itself in knots. “Tina, get the car. Harley's sent it after Jeff.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The twenty minutes it took to reach Tina's car, hurtle through Worcester and out toward Holden at breakneck speed still counted among the slowest Clare had ever experienced. While she was suffering heavily from the resurgence of diabetic symp
toms, these were in some way allayed by the adrenaline and unbridled levels of panic she experienced for her brother.

  There had been no chance to bring anybody else. Clare hoped Helen would convince some of her newfound fan club that there was a serious emergency. None of it mattered. Not now.

  They reached Holden, the street lighting guiding the way. Fortunately the roads were empty. It was a Sunday night, after all. Friendly's was still open. Nearly time to shut up for the night.

  “You want me to pull in there?” Tina asked.

  “I'm fine,” Clare lied. “We need to get to Jeff.” Tina drove slower now, more cautious. It wouldn't do to have an escort of sirens when trying to catch a monster. Or Daniel; that she had been alone with him so recently caused her to shiver with revulsion. Was he testing her? Tasting her?

  Clare fingered the insulin syringe as they crept along Pleasant Street.

  “You could use a little of that,” Tina suggested.

  Clare held the syringe up to the occasional street light, the glow refracting through the syringe, sending flashes of light across her field of vision. Or was that her brain warning her she was now on reserve power only? “No. It's for one purpose only. You heard Julian. Even if I could stick this in me, there's weeks' worth of insulin in there. How much is enough? I'd probably kill myself.” She toyed with the syringe for a moment longer then replaced it in her suit. “No. It's a weapon, plain and simple.”

  They pulled up one house away, parking on the road in the darkness. In silence they watched her house from a distance. No lights were visible from inside, only the dim glow of a street lamp the other side of the railway crossing providing any contrast to the black of the trees. In what light there was, the vines on the walls made the house look scabrous and diseased. Appropriate. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and Clare noticed the front door, the way moonlight glinted off the window. The angle was wrong. “It's been left ajar. He's in there.” Clare began to unbuckle her belt.

  “I've got to draw Daniel away from Jeff. He'll be able to detect my scent. He'll go crazy for it when he does, if what the hospital gave me hasn't ruined it all. I want you downstairs as backup. If I get a chance, I'll stab him with the syringe. If he makes it downstairs we've got no option but to fight. He's got to be away from my brother before we do that so I want you to cover the front door. Jeff's safety is paramount. If Daniel makes it downstairs first, shoot him.”

  As Tina joined her beside the car, Clare stood for a moment, watching her house. Late September, the air was still mild, the scent heavy with the onset of fall and the promise of rebirth, of closing down to grow anew. Clare flexed her right hand, willing blood into it. Breaking open the plastic case, she discarded it, along with the sheath from the syringe. She mouthed a silent prayer that she would have the strength to act with speed and rapid decision. That being done, she nodded at Tina and moved forward into the looming threat of her own home. Her one refuge, her one place of safety had become a potential death trap. A car was parked far along her own drive, door open, warning light pulsing steadily and making a faint 'bling-bling'. Clare prayed he hadn't been there long or it would be too late. With one glance back at where she perceived Tina to be in the darkness, Clare reached the front door. She paused, touching the area around the lock. A lance of pain shot through her hand and she recoiled, the step back nearly unbalancing her. Clare held her forefinger up, several splinters piercing the flesh. Forced. It's in here.

  The wooden frame had been wrenched apart. Clare ran her hands around the door, finding a series of evenly-spaced scorings. Five of them, as if made by hands.

  Pushing the door as slowly as possible, she prayed tonight wasn't the night the hinges rebelled. It wasn't.

  Stepping into the blackness of her house, Clare waited to let her eyes adjust. Something brushed her leg. Clare clamped her teeth, holding in a scream. Kneeling down, she gathered her cat into her arms, hugging him, praying he remained silent. Although glad to see her, his body was tense. He nuzzled her then wriggled to escape. He never did that. Clare let him go, shoving the tortoiseshell cat out through the door.

  There was nobody she could see in the living room, so she checked the kitchen. Dishes showed Jeff had been using the house, though there were more out than he would have needed. Touching the back door, Clare found it unlocked but closed.

  She nodded in the darkness. Where else would this trap lead me but upstairs? Take a deep breath, Clare.

  She moved by touch. With her head beginning to spin she leaned on the walls, taking slow, deliberate steps. Every memory she could recall of creaking floorboards became a mental map in the darkness.

  Her right foot touched the bottom stair. She paused. There was no noise from above. That didn't mean she was alone. Clare began to climb the stairs, putting gentle pressure on each. Her thighs burned with the effort.

  She turned the corner. Her heart fluttered in her mouth. A sidelight had been left on in Jeff's bedroom. A body lay there, unmoving, lying at a crooked angle.

  Clare paused. Her eyes drank in what light there was. That's not Jeff. It's too small.

  Clare crept along the landing. She knelt down beside the body. It was a woman. So that's what he's been doing with his time. A quick touch of the neck revealed no heartbeat yet there were no marks on the arms. Time for regret would come later, if Clare survived.

  She looked up. A sibilant whispering, almost crooning, came from the bedroom, so faint she couldn't understand what was being said. Her legs tensed to run, Clare tested the syringe on the back of her hand. One fat drop, probably a day's worth of insulin, splashed her skin.

  Leaning to the door, Clare tried to look in the room. Someone was in there. Daniel. He was propped over the bed, his hands pushing down on something. Jeff.

  “Rest, my pretty; enjoy your final dream.” The murmuring was hypnotic. “Soon you will sleep the deep sleep, as will I…”

  Jeff moaned, trying to twist.

  “Rest easy,” Daniel encouraged his victim, leaning over to whisper in Jeff's ear. “Your lover lies well beside you, safe in your arms.”

  Daniel's shoulders tensed, arms pushing down on Jeff's shoulders. “What? Your blood is normal! There's nothing wrong with you. They… they lied. Harley and that bitch cousin wannabe of his.” He threw his head back in anguish. “Lord Iuvart, what have you done?”

  Shoulders cracked and reshaped as Daniels arms grew longer. Pale flesh surrounded by a nimbus of insipid light extended from the sleeves of the hoodie. “I'll finish him anyway…” Daniel stopped and sniffed. “Ah, I sense the truth in their plan. This house reeks of a diabetic. Welcome home, Clare.”

  The sniff became a deep, languorous breathing. He didn't move from Jeff, who began to convulse beneath him. “Your brother doesn't have long; if you want to do something to change his situation I suggest you act with haste.”

  What am I doing? Clare pushed the door wider, stepping into Jeff's bedroom. Jeff twisted and thrashed in his mescaline-induced nightmare.

  Daniel turned to regard her. Bright, fevered eyes pierced through hair hanging loose and damp across his face. The skin was drawn tight across his cheekbones, making his face narrower. Lips devoid of moisture were cracked, withdrawn and showing teeth more like fangs. His skin cracked as he spoke. “I will drain him,” he said, “unless you offer me an alternative. It won't be painless and agreeable. My venom only works for so long. You know. You've tasted it.”

  “Desperate times,” Clare replied, her voice cautious. His every word beguiled her. “Leave him be, Daniel. Haven't you had enough of my family?”

  Daniel grinned, teeth sticking out from withdrawn gums making his face even more skeletal. “Clever girl. You worked it out.”

  “I thought you were attracted to me. Am I nothing more to you than a meal?”

  “I want a trade; your life for his, voluntarily. I don't move until you lay down beside him to take his place. Think quickly. Each second wasted sucks his life away and his end will be agonizing. They a
re normally dead when I feed but you and yours robbed me of that opportunity.” Daniel's hands and forearms flexed as he drew on the fluid in Jeff's body. Jeff cried out in mescaline-laced pain.

  Clare stepped fully into the room, opening the door all the way. “Okay, okay. Let him go and I'll take his place; my life for his.”

  Daniel grinned, his top lip rising above his teeth as if scenting the air about her. He began to drool in anticipation. The eyes glowed brighter. “Oh, you're so sweet. I've watched you for a long time, and to conclude it here, how poetic.”

  “How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?”

  A slow smile crept across Daniel's face. “You don't.”

  Clare stepped closer. Her scent, the aroma of an untreated diabetic, appeared to be driving him to distraction. He leaned toward her, even as he kept his hands pressed on Jeff.

  Exhaling in his direction, Clare hoped it would throw him off balance. It did, his head stretching toward her in a slow, deliberate motion, the bones in his neck clicking as the vertebrae fought to stay aligned. As his muscles went taught, she threw everything into launching herself at him, the syringe raised like a dagger in her left hand, ready to stab.

  As quick as she was, Daniel was quicker, lashing out with his left hand and blocking her blow. Off balance, she fell to the floor, the syringe sent spinning back out onto the landing. Crashing down, she rolled to her knees only to find Daniel already above her, hands clawed.

  His hair swept aside, Clare now gazed up into the withered mask of the man she once knew, the monster taking over. Luminous white eyes stared right through her as it prepared to feed. Running its hands down her neck, it came to hold her shoulders, caressing her as a lover might do. It climbed atop her, legs pinning hers to the floor as they began to extend. Clare tried to scream and he clamped a hand across her open mouth. She gagged as the fleshy sucker began to detach from its palm right inside her mouth.