Chapter Three
A dreadful sound is in his ears: in prosperity the destroyer shall come upon him.
Job 15:21, KJV
Cody, be careful, echoed in his head as he woke. A shadow shrunk from the doorway down the hallway, he caught a glimpse, but it was enough to make his chest tighten. He craned his neck and leaned to the side so that he could see down the empty hallway. Cody held his breath, listening intently to the quietness of his apartment. His head and chest began to throb from the lack of oxygen. Exhaling the stale air, he gulped fresh oxygen into his lungs, extinguishing the stars flashing, blaring in his skull.
Shaking his head, he stood from the bed, and stretched, trying to release the tension in his well-formed muscles. Fatigue still held him as he shuffled down the hallway while looking for anything out of place in front of him. Of course, nothing is out of place. He chided himself. “Stupid dreams,” he muttered, entering the bathroom.
After emptying his bladder, he peered at himself in the mirror. Though he had been going to bed early the last few nights, he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and older than thirty-three. His dark hair stood in matted spikes around the crown of his head, gray bags drooped below his bloodshot hazel eyes, and his skin was blotchy. On top of what was visible on his skin, his joints and muscles were tight and sore. Rubbing his cheek, then chin, he decided a shave was in order.
The water stung the strange crosshatch scratch on his back. Patting the strange wound with care, he stared at it the mirror while twisting his body uncomfortably, unsure how he came to have it—three scratches down and four across.
Showering had boosted his energy, and he dressed humming a song he didn’t know. He grabbed his bag and headed out the door. Pulling the door closed behind him, the shattering of glass found his ears. He stepped back into his apartment, looking toward the kitchen.
“What the hell?” he said, cautiously returning inside his apartment.
The overhead light flickered on, filling the small kitchen with a sterile-fluorescent glow. Scanning the kitchen, he found nothing broken on the counters or floor. He opened the dishwasher, which contained the dirty dishes from the night before, but nothing was broken.
Next, he opened each cupboard, not finding anything out of place, even in the refrigerator. Child’s laughter came from the open front door. He turned with a jump, staring at the door. The neighbor children passed his door on their journey to the elevator.
Back at the door, his attention zoomed around the living room, seeing nothing disturbed there either, he shook his head and closed the door.
Returning home from a noneventful but exhausting day, he dug through the kitchen cabinets for something easy to eat in front of the TV. Three light raps came from the door, pulling him from the world in the television show. He wasn’t expecting anyone. With a scrunched brow, he glanced over his shoulder toward the door.
Cody pulled the door open to an empty hallway. He shrugged, closing it, then returned to the couch. The picture on the TV flickered to black, back to the show, to static, then black again without returning a picture. The remote control buttons he pressed didn’t remedy the problem, no matter what channel he went to nothing showed on the screen. Again three raps came from the door.
Grumbling, he stomped to the door and flung it open. The hallway was quiet, but filled with an overpowering stench of rot, making him gasp and cover his mouth and nose. He went to the end of the hall where the smell dissipated. The door to the trash chute was closed, and he noted the smell in the small space didn’t match what had met him when he opened his door.
Loud voices and gunfire blasted toward him through his open apartment door as returned home. His neighbor cracked her door open.
“Your TV’s very loud, Cody,” she snapped.
He waved at her door in passing as he darted down the hall, and back into his apartment. Deliberately pressing the buttons on the remote gave no relief to the ear-shattering volume. Nothing he did changed anything with the TV’s tantrum. After a few seconds of futility, he tossed the remote on the couch, went to the TV, and tried the buttons on the side, but nothing quieted the deafening volume. He reached behind the TV and pulled the cord from the socket.
At first, he didn’t think the TV was going to concede, as the noise blared through its speakers for a moment after pulling the plug, then with a pop, the room went silent.
He glared at the TV while his head pulsed with the memory of the loudness from seconds before. After turning the power plug over, examining it for a moment, he let it drop to the floor with his decision to not watch something before bed.
Turning on the bathroom light, he found toothpaste and shaving cream escaping their containers into the sink as though an invisible hand squeezed the tube and pressed on the button. His feet stumbled backward; his back found the hallway’s wall opposite the bathroom. The light in the bathroom dimmed, leaving the bright, zagging lines of the coils inside the lightbulbs, then they went black.
Three heavy knocks came from the closed bedroom door. Slowly, the knob turned, and the door swung open. Cody didn’t expect the spectacle he found inside. His heart branded a tattoo in his chest, exposing darkness he had never thought he would see in his apartment. It moved toward him through the open door. Behind the wall at his back, something frantically scratched at the Sheetrock.
He ran down the short hallway into the living room then to the front door. Laughter chased him. The doorknob didn’t budge. Grabbing the knob with both hands, he shook it. Voices whispered around him in an unidentifiable language as the temperature in the apartment plummeted causing his skin to prickle.
From the corner of his eye, he watched the darkness from his bedroom move closer to him. It took the shape of a man’s shadow stretched at sunset; its head reached the ceiling. After a moment, the darkness swirled, breaking its form. Maniacal laughter of several voices erupted, then as quickly as it started was silent again.
“The one,” a voice whispered close to his ear, followed by a multitude of voices agreeing in hissing sighs.
The darkness retreated to the bedroom. Cody forced himself to move from the door to watch the smoky mist dissipate as it crossed the threshold, and disappear, leaving the bedroom in a silvery glow from the streetlight. The bathroom light flashed on, causing Cody to jump. The light flowed across the hall through the open bedroom door, giving him a better view of its interior.
Reaching inside, he flicked on the overhead light. The small silver statue of Jesus, a friend had brought him from Rio, lay face down on his dresser; otherwise, nothing in the room was out of place.
The hair on his arms stood, and a twitch shook his body. Without his feet crossing the threshold, he grabbed the doorknob, and pulled the door shut—he decided to sleep on the couch, so long as the TV didn’t choose to turn back on and blare sound through the speakers.
Chapter Four
Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation.
Matthew 12:45, KJV
Cody woke cramped and not rested. The night had not given him the deep sleep he had needed. Instead, he had slept as though he were in a haze never finding true slumber. He showered and returned to the bedroom to dress, trying not to think about what had happened the night before. As he closed the apartment door, it occurred to him to check with his neighbors to see whether they had heard or seen anything strange. Immediately, he decided against the idea—besides the fact of his TV blaring, how could he expect anyone to believe it?
Traffic was light, giving Cody time to stop for coffee and something to eat. A chubby red-haired woman winked at him as he entered the coffee shop, which he returned with a flirtatious grin. Though he wasn’t interested, he felt it was always best to give back. What was the harm in making a groupie’s—as he called them—day?
His car beeped awake, and he ope
ned the door, but not before catching his reflection in the car window. The weathered look he had had when he woke had vanished as though it had never been present, and he winked at himself.
He placed his breakfast on the seat, and coffee in the cup holder. As he started his car, the red-haired woman exited the coffee shop, shaking her head, her gaze fixed on him, and the cute smile no longer on her face. She stopped at the curb in front of his car, staring intently with strange eyes; their green seemed too bright.
He stared back at her, unnerved by her brazenness. Music thumping from the speakers blocked the words she spoke. Cody considered turning the music off and rolling down the window to learn what she was saying, but the way she stared at him made him decide he didn’t want to know what she had said and upgraded her to psycho stalker from groupie. He backed away from the curb with a smirk. Still she spoke, and as he shifted gears, the music cut out.
“Cody, be careful.” Her voice was the sweetest music to his ears, more pleasing than the music it had interrupted, and the same he had awoken to the morning before.
Fear filled him. “What the fuck?” he whispered, staring back at her. She beckoned for him to come back. A horn blared behind him. In the rearview mirror, he glimpsed a woman in an SUV waving her hands over the steering wheel—it appeared that she was in a hurry, and everyone should get out of her way—He looked back to where he’d been parked, but the red-haired woman was gone, and music, once again, blared through the speakers.
“You’re cracking up, dude,” he said to his reflection in the rearview mirror, driving off. “After this deal is done, you need to take a vacation.”
He returned home with a splitting headache, but at least everything was ready for his pitch to the board the next day. Slumping into the couch exhausted, he turned on the TV. Sleep overtook him before the commercial told him how to get lower rates on his auto insurance.
The lanky man stared at him with disgust. Cody didn’t look any different than he had in high school many years ago. All he had to do was transfer the thing in him to Cody, and he could go home, allowing it to take care of the rest. The noise and flashing images on the TV were distracting, so he slipped the remote from Cody’s hand, and turned it off. For no reason, other than he despised Cody, he punched him in the arm. He grimaced with a snort, knowing the recipient wasn’t able to wake.
“What are you doing?” the short, red-haired woman asked from the hall leading to the bedroom. Green beams streamed from her eyes to the man leaning over Cody.
He looked up but remained bent over Cody. The black orbs in his eye sockets reflected her image on their shiny surfaces. His finger traced along Cody’s forehead, and he squinted with his menacing grin.
She grimaced at the sight of him. Many ugly, misshapen things crept across the realms. Those things never caused her skin to quiver the way revenants did. They were disgusting creatures, passing with little effort into a human host, willingly or not.
“I asked you a question!” She took a step forward.
“None of your concern, Watcher,” the revenant said with a thunderous voice through the man’s snarling mouth.
“It is my concern.” She’d moved less than a pace from the back of the couch. He flicked his fingers to the side as though he were trying to remove a glob of sticky mucus, then returned his attention to Cody. The clicking of nails on the wooden surface clamored toward her. Knowing it was a trick of the revenant, she didn’t look away from the ritual he performed over Cody. “You need to stop!” she demanded.
“What are you going to do?” Looking back at her, he laughed. “You have no power here, bitch.”
“As much as you do,” she said, her hands near Cody’s head.
His dark eyes moved to her hands. “You don’t have to make this difficult.” His eyebrows rose, and his hands shook, the man the revenant occupied wasn’t comfortable in her presence—the revenant wasn’t bothered. “I’ll be taking him one way or the other.”
“For who? Who wants Cody?”
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.” This time it wasn’t the maleficent voice of the revenant, but the man it occupied.
“Not if you don’t tell me.”
Without allowing more time for this wretched creature to perform its rite, she placed her hands on Cody’s head above his ears. The man’s mouth popped open, as he straightened to his full height. The sound of rushing water came from his mouth, and then the room vibrated with a mixture of high-pitched wails, growls, and moans.
Her ears began to ache with changing pressure, but she did not remove her hands from Cody. Her green beams covered the man’s face. She stared at him as though nothing in the world was happening but her holding Cody’s head. He closed his mouth, ending the cacophony. They stared at each other, daring the other to look away.
“It seems we're at an impasse,” the man said, rubbing the stubble-covered arch of his dome. The darkness covering his eyes faded. He smirked. “I guess it’s Plan B then.”
“What do you want with Cody?” she demanded, probing his thoughts, but found blank walls in his head. He was well protected—more than likely one of many gifts from whomever he served.
“My Master sent me for him, and I do as I’m asked.” He scowled. “And I never ask questions.”
“Maybe you should get a new one,” she said. He shrugged. “Who is your Master?”
“You really don’t want to know his name,” he replied and clapped.
Cody woke with a start, jumping from the sofa. Twisting around, he scanned the room. The only light on in his apartment was in the hallway to the bedroom, which illuminated a long rectangle to the edge of the couch. He rubbed his tingling forehead, making his way to the bedroom.
Chapter Five
Who shall change our vile body that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself.
Philippians 3:21, KJV
Groggily, Cody propped his head up with his hand, waiting for the coffee to brew. Today was the day for his pitch, and he felt anything but rested. His body ached, and a large bruise had blossomed on his shoulder overnight. Fragments of a dream danced in his mind of someone standing over him as he lay on the couch, and of people arguing about…he wasn’t sure exactly what the argument was, but somehow he knew he had been the topic.
He stood when the coffee machine began to sputter the last drops of water. As he reached for the pot, a thud came from the front door. Whatever it was had to wait, he needed coffee. The noise came again as he poured the coffee, another when he took a sip of the hot liquid. He frowned, knowing that ignoring it any longer wasn’t an option. Cup in hand, he went to the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw no one in the hallway.
Shrugging, he returned to the kitchen. As he was sitting, the thud shook the door. “Seriously?” he shouted. He manipulated the locks and threw the door open to an empty hallway. Turning in each direction, he saw no one. The thump came again from inside his apartment, and he ran through the living room to his bedroom.
THUD
He pulled open the closet door.
THUD
He spun around and left the bedroom. Glancing in the open bathroom as he passed on his return to the living room, he saw nothing to have caused the sound.
THUD
The front door remained open.
“Good morning, Cody,” the graying woman who lived two doors down said when he came to the door. “Everything all right? You look out of sorts.”
He stopped, realizing he only wore a pair of boxers and blushed. “Did you hear it?”
“Hear what?” she said, cocking her head.
“The banging like someone kicked a door or wall or something.”
“Oh, I must have slept through it,” she said, smiling. “I take a lovely cocktail of things before sleep.” She squinted at him, her smile fading. “You look like you need it, too.”
“Not last night. Just now.”
&nb
sp; “No,” she said. “You don’t look very good. Are you feeling ok?”
He shivered, and his stomach quaked. “I’m good,” he lied. “I have a presentation today, and I’m edgy.”
“I’m so glad I’m retired,” she said.
Cody forced a smile, and said, “Sorry to bother you with my raving. Have a great day!” Before she was able to reply, he closed the door. He bent over, taking a deep breath.
Shaking his head, he went to the bathroom to get ready for his day. The hot water and steam didn’t lift any of his exhaustion. His reflection looked glum. He was pitching his ‘Hail Mary’ today, which required he look professional and confident, though, now he felt like he had been run over by a truck. Nothing mattered except winning over the board, or…he didn’t want to go there. Things always worked out, and he didn’t want to think differently about this.
As he waited at the traffic light, he had the strange sensation of being watched. Out the left window, a woman in jogging clothes stood at the far side of the intersection staring at her phone. At her feet, a dog tethered to her hand, sniffing the ground, and licked the place he found appetizing.
On the right, he found the culprit turned deliberately toward him. Cody had the persistent feeling he knew the man with the gleaming, razor smile, but the dark sunglasses, covering more than a quarter of his face, didn’t give him a good enough view to bring his name to mind.
A horn prompted from behind, alerting him the light had changed. The man stopped staring, and proceeded through the intersection, Cody moved along too.
The blue car, driven by the man Cody thought he had recognized, turned in to the parking lot of a still sleeping shopping center. Cody continued his route, forgetting the man, and thinking of his presentation.
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