by Lauren Algeo
Knowledge of weapons and armies and secret developments. There was likely to be plenty the countries weren’t telling each other and Daniel could help them lay it all out on the table. He felt a tingle of excitement snaking its way through his stomach. Everything he’d achieved so far was small compared to the prospects of this summit; merely training until this opportunity presented itself.
He stared at the face of a man on his screen. The US president, Samuel Beckett, was a fairly young man at forty-eight years old. He had short, sandy-coloured hair and piercing blue eyes. Daniel had been studying him closely on TV and in newspapers and knew every line of his face. He was the chosen man.
Beckett was in his first term as president and still had a look of optimism on his perpetually smiling face. America’s golden boy. Daniel knew that his father was keen to meet the man, who he thought shared similar values to his own. He was hopeful that their countries could work closely together going forward, which might help to ease the pressure on him as Prime Minister – Davenport hadn’t gotten on so well with Beckett’s predecessor. Their relationship had been strained and a US president hadn’t visited England for several years. Connors was hoping to rectify that.
Daniel had picked up some titbits from his memories at dinnertime and knew that his father had invited Beckett and his wife for a private dinner at Downing Street on one of the last nights. Daniel had marked and underlined it in his fledgling timeline. Beckett was the key, the centrepiece, the ultimate prize.
Daniel scrolled through the webpage, eyeing up the thumbnail photographs of the other leaders, considering who would be the other chosen one. It was an important decision and he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to savour every part – the build up would be almost as pleasurable as the actual event… the releasing.
He smiled to himself as he recalled his second releasing of a human. He had spread that one out over a day and night so he could enjoy every moment.
It had come six months after Izzy, when he’d been on an overnight trip with his parents. His father had been booked to speak at a fundraising dinner in Manchester and Daniel had persuaded his mother that it would be a good idea for them to accompany him.
Daniel loved travelling to new cities and feasting on the untouched minds that resided there. He thought enough time had passed after Izzy so he could try out releasing someone stronger. He was itching to do it again. The need burned inside him and it was all he could think about. He would lay awake at night, imagining all the painful ways that a person could have their pointless life ended. It wasn’t as though he needed much sleep so he had plenty of time.
The anticipation had increased on the car journey up and they’d checked into a hotel in the city centre. They’d booked a family suite so Daniel had his own bedroom attached to their larger double room, with a small living area in between. He’d sat on the springy bed while his mother showered and his father ran through his speech. He closed his eyes and picked up the hundreds of minds around him. There were so many within his grasp; he just had to reach out and take them.
Daniel flitted from the thoughts of the guests in the hotel to the people walking past on the street. He settled on one particularly depressed mind just around the corner. It belonged to a homeless man who’d been living on the streets for the past three years. It was January and he was cold and hungry. His outlook on life was so bleak that he was begging to be released from it.
Daniel sifted through his memories quickly and found out that the man was called Peter and he was thirty-two years old. He’d lost his job a few years ago then his flat when he couldn’t find any more work. He didn’t have many close friends or family and the spare rooms and sofas to sleep on quickly ran out. He’d turned to alcohol and petty crime to get by and now he was an alcoholic with no prospects.
Daniel felt disgusted by his story – the man had no pride. He would help him out by doing what Peter was too scared to do himself. The question was, which method should he use?
Something painful was preferable and Daniel wanted to take his time with this one – Izzy’s releasing had been over too quickly. Peter was stronger than she had been although his mind was so damaged that he barely acknowledged Daniel’s presence in his head. With Izzy, he’d disguised himself as her teddy bear but with Peter there was no need to think of a cover – the man presumed that Daniel’s voice belonged to the devil.
‘Peter,’ he spoke low and soft to the shivering man. ‘Your life is a terrible waste.’
‘Leave me alone.’
Peter gave him a half-hearted mental shove but Daniel’s presence didn’t waver. The man wanted him there really; he wanted to wallow in his shame and misery. Daniel was simply giving voice to everything he felt inside.
‘Have another drink,’ Daniel urged.
‘I don’t have any more.’ Peter’s whining was pathetic.
‘Then you take some.’ Daniel wanted to see how far he could push the man.
He remained mostly in his own body, as he didn’t want to be tainted by Peter’s depression. It was warm in the bedroom and there was no need to come fully forward into the mind of a man who was chilled to the bone and fighting off the flu. He didn’t need to experience those things first-hand. Simply reading and influencing Peter’s thoughts was enough.
He stayed with the man as he shuffled to the nearest shop, which was a small Sainsburys at the corner of the road. Peter was envious of everyone going about their day without a care in the world.
‘Those people don’t know hardship,’ Daniel tutted.
Peter murmured in agreement as he entered the shop. The devil was more sympathetic than he’d expected.
‘They keep the spirits behind the counter,’ Peter sighed.
Daniel came further forward briefly to check the shop. He was apprehensive after he’d come so close to being dragged into death with Izzy, but only the slightest bit; a petty emotion that he dealt with head on.
‘There’s beer and wine in the aisle,’ he informed Peter. ‘Get that.’
Peter was worried about the staff and CCTV cameras, he usually liked to venture further from his patch if he was going to steal anything, but Daniel gave him a nudge of encouragement. Without another word of protest, Peter picked up two bottles of red wine and shoved them under his tatty brown coat.
Daniel left his mind briefly as Peter marched from the shop, and double-checked that the hotel room was still safe. He could hear his parents talking in their bedroom and laughing at something on the murmuring TV. He still had some time.
When he re-entered Peter’s mind, the man was back at his spot in the side alley. He was hunched over in the back doorway and staring at his prizes.
‘Drink them,’ Daniel ordered.
Peter obliged readily and unscrewed the cap on the first bottle. He gulped some of the cheap wine straight from the bottle then paused for a breath.
‘No, all of it.’ Daniel slipped deeper into the man’s head and forced him to keep drinking.
Peter’s body gagged and heaved as he took down all the wine but Daniel stayed in control. He concentrated on keeping the swallowing action going until the bottle was empty. Peter gasped for air and his stomach lurched yet Daniel held back the vomiting reflex. Peter would not be wasting any of what he’d just drunk.
‘Now the other bottle.’
‘No, please,’ Peter whimpered. ‘I don’t want any more yet.’
Daniel tightened his iron grip. ‘Drink.’
Peter attempted to fight him off but Daniel plucked up the reigns and Peter’s hands picked up the second bottle of wine and opened it. He gulped down this bottle even faster than the first and by the end he was dizzy and coughing violently. He took a ragged breath and Daniel kept the gagging to a minimum. Peter’s thoughts were already hazy from the sudden overload of alcohol and Daniel heard his mental speech slurring.
‘No more,’ he begged.
‘No, unfortunately there is no more,’ Daniel sighed.
He could hear his parent
s moving around in the other room and knew it was nearly time to leave.
‘I have to go now,’ he told the confused Peter. ‘I’ll be back to play again later.’
He left the man slumped in his doorway. He and his mother went to a restaurant for dinner while his father was giving his speech at the fundraiser then they all met up afterwards for dessert at an American-themed diner. Daniel tried to maintain conversation and enthusiasm as he tucked into his ice cream sundae even though he was itching to get back to the hotel. They were out of range of Peter’s mind and he didn’t want the man to get too sober before he could toy with him again.
He’d been thinking about it over dinner, as he’d forced spaghetti into his mouth, and decided that alcohol was the perfect solution to Peter’s misery. He’d been dependent on it for some time so it seemed fitting for him to be released by it. Daniel had learnt a lot about alcohol by monitoring his mother’s drinking in the weeks after Izzy’s funeral. His research at the time had informed him that people could die from an alcohol overdose if their blood alcohol content became too high. They could go into a coma, have seizures if their heart rate dropped too low, or choke on their own vomit as their gag reflex shut down. Daniel had steered his mother away from that fate, as he’d known it would upset his father if he lost her. There was no one to mourn Peter.
They were only staying at the hotel for one night then making their way home after some sight seeing the next morning but that was plenty of time for Daniel. Izzy’s releasing had been rushed and over in minutes, he had hours to prolong Peter’s passing.
By the time they got back to the hotel room, Daniel knew exactly what he was going to do with his night. His parents kissed him goodnight then settled down in the suite to watch TV while he went to his room like a good boy. He got into the cool bed however he wouldn’t be sleeping at all.
He lay on his back and closed his eyes in case his parents looked in on him. Internally, he began to search for Peter’s mind. He didn’t have to look far – the man was exactly where he’d left him. At some point during the few hours Daniel was away, Peter had thrown up violently and there was red sick pooled around the doorway.
‘Now, now,’ Daniel tutted. ‘You’ve wasted perfectly good wine.’
‘I didn’t think you were coming back,’ Peter whimpered.
A quick venture deeper into his mind let Daniel feel that the man’s head was pounding and his throat was raw from the vomiting. There was a nasty taste in his dry mouth and Daniel retreated back swiftly. Those were not things he wanted to feel for long.
‘We need more,’ Daniel told him.
‘There is no more!’ Peter picked up one of the empty bottles and threw it across the alley, laughing manically. Daniel didn’t hear the smash it made as it struck the wall but he saw it shatter through Peter’s eyes. His brow furrowed in annoyance.
‘Yes, I’m aware of that. We need to go and get more.’
‘I don’t want to,’ Peter said in a sulky voice and folded his arms. ‘I’m sleepy.’
‘You’ll do as you’re told.’ Daniel forced him to get to his feet and walk towards the road.
Peter’s legs were shaky and he weaved from side to side as he went but Daniel didn’t let him fall. This time Peter went to an off licence a few streets away. With Daniel’s goading, he stole bottles of vodka and whisky while the cashier was distracted by another customer. In a way, Daniel was disappointed that no one tried to stop Peter – he could have used the man’s larger body to inflict some pain. Having Peter carted off by the police would ruin his fun though so it was for the best.
He steered Peter back to his spot in the alley. The local homeless people had their own sense of community and they each had a patch that they could call ‘home’. Daniel didn’t think Peter had done too well with his. The narrow alley between the two buildings was lined with dumpsters of rubbish and very dark. He’d caught a whiff of the rotting smell through Peter’s nose although the man barely noticed it himself anymore.
He staggered back to his doorway at the rear of the alley – a fire escape from an Italian restaurant that was never used. Peter collapsed onto the hard step and put the two bottles on the ground in front of him. His top-line thoughts were protesting about drinking them but Daniel could see deep down that he really wanted to. The need was gnawing away at him, similar to Daniel’s own need to release people.
Alcohol was an escape for him and he wanted to be consumed by its numbness. His mouth was salivating in expectation. Daniel let him sit there for a few agonising minutes, torn in his mind about whether to throw the bottles away or get stuck in. In the end, Peter showed his true weakness and picked up the bottle of vodka himself.
‘That’s it,’ Daniel cried gleefully. ‘Drink for me.’
Peter guzzled the vodka greedily, choking on the strong taste and letting it dribble down his chin. He slowed down after a few swallows and needed Daniel’s help to keep going. By the time the bottle was finished a couple of minutes later, Peter’s head was spinning and his stomach was contracting painfully. His body wanted to purge itself of the overload of poison but Daniel wouldn’t allow it.
While Peter moaned and rocked back and forth on the step, Daniel practiced controlling his body. He’d been able to move Izzy’s legs in the pond and prevent her scream from reaching its full power. He knew from Peter that he could prevent people from vomiting and choking too, and he wanted to test what else he could do.
Peter’s bladder was full from the alcohol he’d consumed that night and after a quick search of his mind, Daniel relieved it of the pressure. Peter barely noticed as the urine soaked through his grimy jeans. His words were incoherent and he wasn’t fighting Daniel at all. He’d retreated to a corner of his mind and was curled into a small ball.
Daniel nodded with satisfaction as the grown man wet himself. It was a shame no one was there to see his humiliation. Daniel was keeping his mind open to any other people passing close by – he didn’t want anyone to spot Peter in the alley and try to help him. There was still work to do.
The night was bitterly cold and Daniel asked Peter to remove his thin coat. He was wearing an equally thin, black jumper underneath and he shivered uncontrollably as the freezing air penetrated his body further.
‘Is it time… die now?’ Peter pleaded in a thick voice.
‘No. Not yet,’ Daniel said cheerily. ‘The night is still young.’
‘Sleep.’ Peter tried to burrow into his jacket on the step but Daniel lifted him upright.
‘You’ve got another bottle to drink,’ he smiled.
He was keeping most of Peter’s inebriated symptoms at bay but there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and a headache pulsing at his temples. It was a change to his permanent healthy state and made him feel alive.
He forced Peter’s hands to reach for the bottle but the man’s actions were impaired and his whole body propelled forwards, knocking the glass bottle flying. Daniel gritted his teeth in anger as it cracked on the concrete and the precious whisky began to spill out. The bottle was useless now.
Peter was in no fit state to go and get any more – someone would alert the police to his condition if he went near a shop, or try to call him an ambulance. Daniel quickly came up with a new plan, one that would make this night even more enjoyable for him.
He retreated fully to his own body and climbed out of the hotel bed. He put on his jeans, trainers and a coat to cover his pyjama top. Getting stopped was no real issue but it helped people to dismiss him if he wasn’t wandering around at night in his blue pyjamas.
He stood at the bedroom door and listened carefully. The TV was on low in his parents’ bedroom and he could hear a bath running in their en suite. They wouldn’t be likely to check on him any time soon. He opened the door quietly and tiptoed across the communal living area to the main door. He took the spare key card from the side table then slipped out to the corridor.
The long passage was empty and he could hear people moving around
and talking in their rooms as he walked past the numerous closed doors. It was only 10:30pm and he knew there would still be people downstairs at the bar and in the lobby. He took the stairs down and walked through the reception, pausing briefly to persuade the porter who came to ask if he was lost that he was perfectly fine. There was nothing strange about a young boy roaming the hotel alone at night.
Before he went outside, he made a quick stop at the bar. There were several people dotted around, sipping drinks at the bar or at small tables. Most were alone although there was the odd couple, and one group of three men in business suits.
Daniel ducked behind the bar itself to take what he needed. Anyone who looked at him or attempted to approach was swiftly told to leave him alone. There was no boy carrying a large bottle of vodka out from behind the bar. Everything was fine.
He made his way to the hotel entrance, thanking the doorman who silently opened the glass doors for him. There was nothing suspicious at all. No need to alert anyone.
Daniel walked around to Peter’s alley and found the man in his doorway, vomiting again. His pale skin had a blue tinge from the cold. Daniel didn’t feel it himself – the temperature never really bothered him. He never shivered or sweated or needed extra layers.
‘What a mess,’ Daniel sighed. ‘You need to stop that.’
Peter stopped retching immediately. The sound was replaced by his pathetic whimpering. Daniel knew that his whole body was screaming in agony and he wanted to pass out but he wouldn’t allow it. There would be no respite for pitiful Peter until he decided it was time.
‘I brought you a present.’ Daniel placed the full bottle of vodka in front of him with a flourish.