by Megan Duncan
Falling From Eternity
(A Paranormal Love Story)
By
Megan Duncan
~
Falling From Eternity
Megan Duncan
Copyright, 2012
All rights reserved.
Smashwords edition: December 2012
ISBN: 9781301724031
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
Find Megan Duncan online at:
http://meganduncan.blogspot.com
~
1
Ripples
“Call it, William.”
Eleven twenty-four a.m.,” I said, pulling the white sheet over Hazel’s lifeless face. She had been one of my favorite residents at Shady Willows; she had been my friend, but she’d also been here the longest. Three years was lifetimes longer than everyone else who came here to die.
“I’d better notify the family,” Doctor Conner said, as he scribbled on his clipboard. He was a good man, but somewhere along the line he’d lost the spark that had once made him an incredible doctor. Maybe it was this place. Maybe it was knowing none of his patients would survive; he’d never be able to save them no matter how hard he tried. I could see how that would break a man, but not me. That’s why I was here. I came here to witness the very thing I would never experience.
Death.
The nurses followed Doctor Conner out of the room, leaving me with the duty of preparing the body. I didn’t mind at all, she’d been the first real friend I’d had in decades. If they’d taken the time to get to know her, they would know there was no family to call; no one to come for her and no one left to miss her except for me.
I gently tucked her hands under the sheet and gazed at the motionless mass that was once the brightest light in this dreary building. No amount of store-bought artwork, plastic plant life or group activities would make this place something that it wasn’t, but Hazel Ruth had. I’d learned about her love for music and she’d taught me how to understand the emotion behind every note. Bach, Beethoven, Mozart and Brahms; she knew every chord, in every symphony better than she could recall what day of the week it was.
The photo on her bedside table caught my eye, so I grasped the metal frame between my fingers and scanned the image; ignoring my own grim expression in the reflection. I’d seen the photograph countless times before, but somehow looking at it now was different. This one picture was the only thing left of this beautiful being, except for the memories I would carry with me through eternity.
A young Hazel Ruth sat on stage, her fingers poised above the bone white keys of a piano. A dapper-looking man stood at her side, grinning from ear to ear under a fedora. Her skin was porcelain, her lips full and her hair vibrant and shimmering. All those had diminished with time, but not the eyes. The Hazel I knew still had those eyes that stared back at me through the faded image; sparkling and full of life and wonder. I vividly remembered the story behind the picture. That was the night she’d met her husband. She had been performing, hoping to get her big break and make it to Hollywood, but fate had made other plans for her.
I rested the framed photo atop Hazel and wheeled her out of the room. I’d witnessed dozens of people die during the handful of years I’d been here, but none of them affected me like this one. I had never connected with them like I had her. She was different than everyone else. Even though she knew she was dying, she was filled with life till the very end. It fascinated me. I’d always been curious about death, yet she altered everything I’d learned. Everyone here was somber and depressed, spending their last moments in this world wallowing in regret for a life unlived. Maybe that was her secret? She’d always tell me she had lived a full life. Perhaps that was what was missing for everyone else? It was a concept I couldn’t quite fully grasp. I had all the time in the world to do anything and everything I’d ever want to, but how could someone whose life was so short ever hope to accomplish such a thing? For a human, Hazel’s eighty-three years was a gift that many did not receive, but for someone like me…that was a mere ripple in the vast ocean of time.
I pounded my finger on the button of the elevator until the light finally came on. The board of directors spent more money making this place look pretty than actually fixing anything that was broken. I made complaints, but they always fell on deaf ears. If I could stay here longer I would try to do something more about it, but my time was running out. People would soon grow suspicious of me. I didn’t age, and I was never sick. I would have to leave before they started asking questions and find another place to help others pass on to the next life. If there was a next life; I’d never know for sure.
I’d give it a few days then give my notice like any normal person would. I was only sticking around for so long because of Hazel, but now that she was gone I didn’t mind moving to someplace new.
The elevator jerked to a stop and I waited the standard fifteen seconds for the doors to open. I pushed Hazel along the cold, barren hallway in the basement of Shady Willows. I’d pushed so many down this very same hallway, but never before had it been so difficult to take each step. My feet were heavy and my hands shook the farther I went. I prayed to whoever might be listening, if they’d even bother listening to someone like me, to give her the most beautiful music for all eternity.
The double doors bounced open as I pushed the bed inside. Weak orange lights lit the space as they dangled from the ceiling on cheap fixtures. The stale smell of cigarettes filled my nostrils and I held back a cough. I could taste the layers of cheap tobacco as if I were smoking them myself. Even when Phil wasn’t here, his stench lingered like a poisonous gas. I detested him. He had no respect for anyone and even less for the dead. I refused to let him be the one to make preparations for Hazel. She deserved better.
“Got another old bag for me, do ya?” Phil’s rough voice wheezed as he took a long puff of his cigarette. A cloud of smoke hung over his desk like a personal rain cloud, while he watched smut on a small television.
“Who bit the big one dis time?” He waddled over to me, his yellow teeth on display through his evil grin.
“Hazel.” I pulled her to a stop just out of his reach. “Take a load off. I got this one.” I tried to sound casual as I waved him away.
“Hey! I don’t needs no one to do my job.” He puffed up his chest, his New York accent peeking out almost as far as the thick, black hair that jutted out of his open shirt collar.
“I just thought you could use a break. I mean, you’ve been here since midnight, right?” I tried to diffuse the situation.
“Yeah!” He smiled, impressed with himself, like he had worked hard all those hours. He hadn’t. All he ever did was sit in front of that television and smoke. On occasion, he’d even steal the prepared meals from the residents. If I hadn’t vowed to change my ways I’d dispatch of him in an instant. He was a waste of space and I would be doing the world a favor. Surely I would be forgiven for killing someone like him, wouldn’t I?
A growl rumbled in my chest, shaking my ribs and rattling my teeth. “What you say?” Phil snapped as he flung his feet atop
his desk.
“Nothing. I’m just hungry.” I turned away from him, and licked my lips. I hadn’t lied, I was starving, but one look into my eyes and he’d know that he was the one on the menu.
“Whateva, man. Just don’t go lazing about and grabbing lunch till yous got her ready. I don’t need nobody yelling at me cuz yous couldn’t finish your job. Ya got me?” He didn’t even turn his attention from the television while he spoke.
“My job?” I muttered under my breath. I really hated this man. Every time I came down here I had to remember why I didn’t kill people anymore. I had to remind myself that there was never a good reason. Ever. I just had to take comfort in the fact that someday Phil would die. It would happen and there would be no way he could escape it.
I pushed Hazel into the morgue and started the necessary paperwork. Ten pages and three phone calls later, she was good to go. I made the preparations with the nearest funeral home and made sure a service was scheduled. There was no one in her records listed as next of kin, so there was no one left to call. She really was all alone in the world. When her husband had died she could have given up and allowed the sadness to swallow her into darkness, but she hadn’t. She’d lived on for another ten years, until this very day. Despite my previous experiences with others facing death, I might have thought she was looking forward to this moment; to be with her love once again.
I hoped she was with him now.
I lifted the sheet that covered her, and tucked her framed photo between her cold hands. She still looked like she was sleeping. The grim cloak of death hadn’t claimed her yet. I could hear her voice in the back of my mind, speaking to me in her usual curious manner. There were times when I thought she might have realized what I was, but she never revealed the truth if she did.
“Goodbye, Hazel.” I patted her hands, and pulled up the sheet to cover her face. Yes, I definitely needed to move on. Knowing her had changed me too much. I wouldn’t be able to stand this dismal place without her. It was too dreary, and she had shown me a light I didn’t know could exist. I wanted to believe that death wasn’t just an end; it could also be a beginning. But, I still wasn’t sure if someone like me could have that new beginning. Or that all the people I’d killed hadn’t just been erased; that they’d find peace someday, somehow.
I’d stayed past my shift taking care of Hazel, but it was worth it. I had the next two days off anyway, so I didn’t care. I slid on my dark shades, and thick wool coat before stepping out into the freezing winter weather. The cold didn’t bother me, even though it was one of the coldest places I’d ever lived. Yet, even with a dense covering of murky clouds the light of day still wore on me. I’d have to work really hard to get the shift I wanted in the next place I stayed. I preferred the night shift. No, I wasn’t going to burst into flames in the daylight, but it was just so damned uncomfortable and always made me irritable. I didn’t like being irritable, and that just made me more irritable.
“Will!” One of the nurses called my name from across the parking lot. She waved at me, squeezing between her group of friends to catch my attention. I waved back despite myself. “Come have drinks with us!” Her voice had taken a sultry tone, making her companions giggle wildly.
“Not tonight, ladies. Maybe some other time.” I’d made the mistake of going out with them once; I wouldn’t do it again. They whined their disappointment as I strolled to my SUV and hopped in.
The engine roared to life, so I sat back allowing it to warm up before taking the long drive home. My hunger was growing, and I cursed myself for not eating enough before my shift; another reason why I couldn’t, and shouldn’t have drinks with the ladies tonight. They would likely end up being my drink of choice. I couldn’t fall off the wagon now; I’d come too far.
My thermostat showed the engine had warmed up enough, so I blasted the heat to defrost the windows. The nurses drove by, honking their horns like an animalistic mating call for me to follow them. I closed my eyes, refusing to look their way. They were decent girls and very attractive, but I was too hungry and too irritated to deal with them right now. Drinking alcohol didn’t do much of anything for me anyway and no bartender in town could mix a drink the way I liked it. When I did go out, I did it socially when the situation called for it, but right now, the situation called for something far different.
I couldn’t wait any longer, and put the vehicle in gear as I pulled out of the parking lot. The windshield hadn’t defrosted completely, but I didn’t need it to, my eyesight was sharp enough that I could see clearly, penetrating the sheen of ice. The two lane highway weaved through towering pine trees toward the city of Denton. It was a nice, quiet place. I thought it would be a pleasant change from the big cities I was used to living in. It was always easier to go unnoticed in the larger places, but for some reason I had wanted a change. The peace and quiet had actually made it harder for me to sleep at first, but it didn’t take long to adjust. I eventually tuned into the nature around me and found it quite soothing. My move to this small town had been out of character for me, and an act of rebellion according to my kind. Maybe I was tired of going unnoticed, or maybe I was sick of feeling like I didn’t exist. But, I was really just running away; desperate to see if I could be more than the monster I was. To see if I could bury that monster once and for all.
Those very thoughts had been the trigger for my transformation. What was the point in living forever when no one knew you existed? Why was immortality given to those who do nothing but take life away?
The main street through town was bustling with activity as I passed through. Well, with as much activity as this town could manage. The holidays had just ended, and everyone was clamoring to prepare for the new year. It held no excitement for me anymore; just another year among many. Would there really be anything special about this one? I doubted it. I’d seen the invention of electricity, automobiles, and television. I watched as man walked on the moon and as countries rose and fell. But now, the world had grown stagnant for me. Everything repeated in a tedious, repetitive circle. I’d never been so uninterested in all my existence.
Until I grew curious about that very thing.
Existence.
What was the meaning of it all, and what was the point in living if you were only going to die in the end? There had to be life after death. If there wasn’t, then life was crueler than I had ever imagined. And I was crueler than I had ever imagined. I was a creature of the night, a slayer of lives and I’d snuffed countless souls out of existence. I felt like a grim reaper, and none of my kind thought that was a bad thing…even I hadn’t always thought that was a bad thing.
To be honest, I used to love every second of it.
The townspeople waved merrily at me as I drove past their shops. I flashed a smile, waving back at them; trying to display as much festivity as I could muster while my tires crunched through the snow. They’d welcomed me since the first day I arrived. I felt so alive here. More alive than I’d ever felt, even when I’d felt my body burn with life after a fresh kill. It would be hard to leave this town behind. Of course, if I stayed and they realized what I was…well, they wouldn’t be so friendly that’s for sure. Images of pitchforks and angry mobs flashed through my mind. No, that wouldn’t be pleasant. They wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but I would defend myself if I had to. I just didn’t want to have to.
I ran my fingers through my brown hair trying to erase those thoughts from my mind. I didn’t want to think about having to hurt these people. Except of course for Phil; him I wouldn’t mind devouring.
A wicked grin spread across my face as I turned off the main drag. Two blocks down, I turned to the right and pulled to a stop in the alleyway beside a small Italian eatery, Mama Mia’s. The smell of fresh baked bread and garlic filled my senses as I hopped out of my car and hustled up the back stairs. I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me. Someone like me, living above a restaurant that smelled like garlic twenty-four seven was completely unheard of. I actually liked the smel
l, despite the myths that it would kill me, which were utterly bogus. Of all the myths about my kind, only one of them was true. Even if people found out what I was, they didn’t have the strength or speed to accomplish it.
I took the steps two at a time, noticing that Maria had swept the snow off for me. Maria was the owner of Mama Mia’s and she was almost as wonderful as Hazel. She was a spicy Italian through and through, and despite her old age, seventy-one she had told me, I was convinced she was too stubborn to die. When I’d first moved here, I spent many nights sitting at a corner table after they closed, sharing a glass of wine with her. She’d tell me about Italy, and I listened with rapt attention. She described it rather well, too. I never told her I’d lived there for many years. I think she enjoyed having someone to talk to, and I did too. She was a very lively old woman, but there was a bitterness about her despite her kind heart. I later learned her story from a gossip crazed woman at the library counter, and I then understood the anger that wouldn’t release its hold on Maria. She’d had a son, her only child, who had lost his life in the war. Overcome with grief, her husband had taken his own life just a few short years later, leaving Maria all alone in the world to handle the grief and pain of loss all by herself. It made me angry hearing the story; not only because I felt these women should be befriending Maria instead of gossiping about her, but because her husband had chosen to leave her. Though in all my years I have never been married, I would never do that to the woman I loved.
Since that day, I made an effort to drop in from time to time and check on her. She feigned annoyance, grumbling that she could take care of herself, but when she thought I wasn’t looking I could see a small smile break through the grimace on her face.