Shadows Within (The Dark Mind Trilogy Book 2)

by Matthew Goldstein

  It all came around to a single solution. I could make it all go away, hiding in the oblivion within the recesses of my mind. Let those voices do what they want with my body. I don't care. I don't want to be anymore. They deserve control over my actions. They're always right and I'm always wrong.

  With the resolve, he slowed his breathing and released the tension in his muscles. Enjoy your free reign, he thought to the mysterious entities in his mind. I'm done. He drifted into the sea of voices, holding onto nothing that could bring him back, and getting himself as intentionally lost as possible. He settled his mind into the depths of the voices, slowly dispersing himself amongst them. They were quiet at first as if surprised at his intrusion, but without any mental blockades, they enveloped him, and he became part of a whole. Cole, the individual, was no more.

  * * *

  Darkness. It was better this way. No lights, no sounds, except the steady breathing of the baby against her chest. Meredith leaned her head back against the corner of the wall and closed her eyes, concentrating on the steady rising and falling of Cole's tiny chest. She had no idea how long she sat there, not thinking, not feeling, not moving a muscle.

  The instructions had been getting more intense, and despite her declaration to ignore them, she had been unable. All at once, at the time of receiving an instruction, she had started being told consequences for failure to perform them. These consequences were all too dire to push aside and hope they wouldn’t happen. Each subsequent instruction required her to commit some darker and darker deed, always seeming to do more harm than good. Yet, in the end, fear always got the best of her. She hated the person that the voices were turning her into, and every time she heard the beginning of an instruction, her stomach would clench. She treasured moments like this when the voices were quiet and the world left her alone to wallow in her misery of her lost husband and dead mother.

  The blaring ring of the phone jarred her out of her reverie, and her sudden movement caused Cole to start crying. “Shh, it's okay, Coley. Shh.” She stroked the thin hair on top of his head until he calmed down. After a few rings, the answering machine picked up and Meredith's depressed recorded voice announced that she was not home and to leave a message.

  “Mere? Pick up?” Beth's strained voice came out of the machine. “You'd better not be sitting there ignoring my calls again.” There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her voice was gentler. “Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I'm getting a plane ticket and I'll be there soon. Not sure of the day yet, but I'll let you know. I want to be there for a while so I need to finish some things up here first. Hang in there. Call me when you get a chance.”

  Meredith squeezed her eyes shut, but a single tear still found its way down her face. The click of the answering machine hanging up was followed a few seconds later by the gong of the doorbell. She raised her head at the sound, her face crinkling in anger. “Really?” she whispered. “What the hell? Why can't everyone just leave me alone?” To her dismay, the bell sounded again, and then again. “No one's home,” she said to no one. “Go away.”

  The ringing finally ceased, and she relaxed once again against the wall. Her relaxation was short-lived, however, as a moment later there was a knock on the window, and her friend, Julie's, face was pressed to the glass peering at her. “Let me in,” Julie said through the glass. “I'm not going away until you do.”

  Meredith groaned, and then forced her cramped muscles to push herself unsteadily to her feet. After placing Cole in his crib, she opened the front door and stood unmoving as Julie flung her arms around her.

  Julie took a step back, holding Meredith at arm’s length. “I haven’t heard from you in so long, I was getting worried. And now I’m even more worried. I understand you’re depressed, and that’s all the more reason you need company. I want to help you get through this.”

  “I don’t want help,” Meredith said, her voice dead and throaty from underuse.

  “That’s too bad. You’re not doing this alone. Here, I made you something.” She held up a bag she was holding. “It’s chicken parm, still warm. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Despite everything, Meredith found herself smirking. “You know me too well. Thank you.” She hadn't realized how starving she was until the smell of the chicken hit her. She unwrapped it on the couch and began to devour it, stuffing her face until half of it was consumed. She paused for breath, and placed her hand over Julie's. “Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. You're the only one I have left – my own age, of course,” she added with a glance to Cole's crib.

  “Anything for you. You’re my best friend,” Julie said. “I’m going to stay here for a few days. No complaints.”

  Meredith hung her head and closed her eyes, but inside she was feeling a weight lifting. Julie’s presence always had the effect of making everything feel better.

  And that was when she received the fated instruction.

  * * *

  Leonard Roberts flipped open his envelope of papers and spread them across his desk. With no leads and no more incoming money, he had tried to convince himself to forget the case. It had worked at first, but something had been nagging at the back of his mind, drawing him back to his files. In the end, his curiosity won out. When Dr. Stern's niece had given up on him, he had felt he was close to something, but she would not hear it. Still, for Dr. Stern's and his client's sake, as well as his own professionalism, he was determined to solve the case. The evidence to find Dr. Stern was laid out for him; he just had to piece it together.

  He ruffled through his papers, glancing for the umpteenth time at the evidence he had collected, hoping something would jump out at him. Nothing. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. This is ridiculous, he thought. The case is closed. She's gone. Let it go.

  Despite his own advice, his mind drifted back over the numerous interviews he had had with those closest to Dr. Stern. For some reason, he always came back to Mrs. Sicarius and her son. They were the ones to see her last on the same day that she had saved the son's life. Seemed to him an odd coincidence that she would disappear around the same time. Perhaps someone close to the victim she had hit with her car had been behind it.

  You've gone through this a million times. It always leads nowhere. And it was true. He had gone so far as to interview the woman who had been hit, but that had been a dead end. She had made no suspicious remarks, nor given any suspicious looks. He was convinced she knew nothing, so even if the culprit was related to her, she had no idea of it.

  He came back to the interview with Mrs. Sicarius’ son, Cole, and his friend Amy. Why did that stick out most in his mind? Something that was said during it was nagging at him, but he couldn't pinpoint what. He ran through the conversation for the hundredth time, replaying in his head as much as he could. The friend had acted innocent enough, but Cole looked like he was hiding something. At one point, Leonard Roberts thought he caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes. But why would he hide something about the woman who saved his life? I'm sure it was just personal and irrelevant to this case.

  He opened his notepad on which he had taken notes and began to idly flip through it. He was about to heave it against the wall when a certain phrase popped out at him: “on the same day she saved me.” How did I not pick up on this before? Dr. Stern's disappearance had not been noticed for days after the incident when she had saved his life. Leonard Roberts himself did not know for sure when she had disappeared. The first sign of anything had come after a number of patients had shown up for an appointment and found the house empty.

  Cole knew something he was not saying. Leonard Roberts may be pulling at straws but it was worth at least one more conversation. It was late and he was exhausted, but first thing in the morning, he would pay a visit and would not leave until he was satisfied he had all the answers. This was his last and best hope.

  Excited for the first time since he took this case, he changed into his night clothes, and flopped onto his e
mpty queen size bed, for once not caring about the pillow beside him that had remained cold and unused for the past five years.

  A sound awoke him in the blackness of night. He lay there listening, but when he heard nothing more, he assumed it had been his imagination. He closed his eyes and turned onto his side, when he heard it again.

  That was not my imagination. He bolted upright in bed straining his ears for the slightest noise. Maybe it was the wind brushing a tree branch against the window. The third time he heard it sent his pulse racing and he broke into a cold sweat. It was a footstep, and it was in the hallway outside his closed bedroom door. Oh God...

  He flung off the covers and stumbled to the door, fumbling with the doorknob lock. However, at the sound of his own footsteps, the ones outside became louder and quicker. He finally succeeded in locking the flimsy knob, hoping it would buy him the time he needed to call the police. He bolted to his bedside phone and picked up the receiver. Dead.

  Oh God...

  He frantically pressed the receiver as the door behind him flung open, and in the dark stood the shadow of a man. Or a boy. It was hard to tell until the shadow stepped into a patch of moonlight that illuminated his face.

  At once, Leonard Roberts knew it was the same boy he had just been thinking about. He's only a boy.

  “What do you want?” Leonard Roberts said, stalling as his eyes searched for a weapon.

  Cole gave no response as he stalked into the room, and in the moonlight, Leonard Roberts could make out the outline of a long knife in his hand. The sight of the blade made his entire body sag with fear. He clutched the nearest object, his lamp, and swung it feebly at the approaching boy.

  “Stay back,” he croaked, his voice catching in his throat.

  The boy smashed the lamp with the knife handle and the shards of porcelain cut deep into Leonard Roberts' hand. He had no time for pain as the knife swung back around catching his throat and opening it up in one clean swipe. As his life faded away, his sole regret was that he should have been more careful.

  The following day, the news reported a blaze that had destroyed a Leonard Roberts' house, killing its sole resident before the firemen could enter the building. The body was burnt beyond recognition. As he had no close family or friends, no one lamented the loss save his ex-wife, who only cared enough to attend the burial.

  22

  Amy awoke early and, eyes still closed, reached across to find Cole. When her hand landed on an empty blanket, she opened her eyes. He was gone. She crawled out from the blanket, stretched, and dragged herself towards the kitchen to find Cole.

  Before she made it there, she found him on the couch in the living room eating a bowl of cereal and watching the morning news.

  “You're up pretty early,” Amy said with a yawn. “I didn't even notice you leave.”

  Cole looked up at her with emotionless eyes. “Couldn't sleep,” he said with a stiff voice.

  “Yeah, I know.” Amy took a seat next to him. “You look better today.”

  “Thanks.” Cole kept his eyes glued to the television as he continued to spoon the cereal into his mouth and chew it deliberately.

  “What are you watching?”

  “Some guy's house burned down with him in it. Crazy, huh?”

  “Oh, that's terrible... I don't usually like watching the news. Makes me sad.” She shifted in her seat.“Are you thinking of going to school?”

  “Yes, I'll go.” He took another spoonful of cereal, and with his mouth half-full he said, “Can you procreate yet?”

  Amy's face scrunched up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

  “Are you capable of having children? Just a simple question.”

  “What?” She sat back, eyeing Cole oddly. “I'm only fourteen. I'm way too young to even think about that. Why would you ask that?”

  “Curious.”

  There was something about Cole's emotionless responses that set Amy on edge. “You're kinda freaking me out.”

  “Sorry.”

  The insincere apology only increased her unease. “Hey, have you maybe considered going to a new psychologist? I know it helped before. Maybe just give it a chance?”

  “Nah, I'm fine.” He shoveled in another spoonful, intent on the screen.

  Amy's eyes flitted nervously around the room as she twirled her fingers through her hair. She was at a loss as to what to do. He's really messed up, she thought. After watching Cole eat another few bites, she stood and hurried to Beth's room. Please be awake. She put her ear up to the door and from inside heard Beth's voice chanting in what was either a strange foreign language or gibberish. One crazy or the other. The one I really need right now is... A tear came to her eye but she brushed it away immediately. No, I need to be strong. For Cole. She knocked on the door, bringing the chanting to an abrupt halt.

  There was rustling from within, and then the door swung open to reveal an annoyed Beth. “What? It's six-thirty in the morning. I was sleeping.”

  “I... need your help. With Cole. He's seriously not right.”

  “Of course not. Neither am I. It's only been a few days.”

  “No, not like upset. He's emotionless and he's saying really weird things. Creepy things.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  Amy bit her lip. “Come see for yourself.”

  “Fine.” She adjusted her nightgown and followed Amy to the living room.

  Cole was chewing his last bite of cereal and getting to his feet as they walked in. “Hi,” he said.

  “Good morning,” Beth said. “How are you today?”

  “'K. I want to go to school.”

  “You can go if you'd like. I'll take you in an hour.”

  “Thanks. I'm going to get dressed.”

  Beth shot a skeptical look at Amy, and after Cole was out of earshot she said, “If there's a change, he seems better.”

  “No, really. He didn't say anything just now but before...”

  “What did he say before?”

  Amy fidgeted with her hair again. “He, uh, he asked about...procreating.”

  “That's unusual for him, but nothing mental hospital worthy.”

  “No, he asked if I was capable of it.”

  Beth cocked an eyebrow. “That is odd. I'm no psychologist but sounds like he's trying to grow up fast and leave this life behind. Too bad he's only fourteen.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Still, it might be good to see a psychologist. Couldn't hurt, right?”

  “I'll see what I can do. Go get ready for school.” She returned to her bedroom and closed the door.

  Amy took a bowl of cereal and ate alone in the kitchen. When she finished, she knocked on the library door.

  “Come in,” Cole said through the door

  Amy opened the door to find Cole sitting in a chair facing the window. “Are you, uh, ready to go?”

  “Yep.” Cole did not budge or turn his head towards her.

  “All right, I just have to get changed.” She gathered her clothes from the suitcase she had brought from her house, and walked to the door.

  “You can change here,” Cole said.

  “That's okay.” Normally, she would have been flustered and tempted by that statement. She wanted him, badly, but today he was creeping her out and the last thing she wanted was to undress in front of his watching eyes. She hurried to the bathroom, and when she emerged, Cole had not moved from his chair.

  “Did you want to look over what you've missed?” she said to his back.

  “Nah, I'm okay.”

  He turned to face her. His stare made her flinch and she had to remind herself that she was indeed dressed. Unable to meet his eyes, she took a random book off the bookshelf and began to read. She absorbed none of the words as she could feel his eyes on her and it took all her effort not to look up.

  “Let's move out!” Beth called from the other room.

  Amy let out a sigh of relief as she dropped the book and practically ran to the front door. The ride to school was silent. Am
y felt more comfortable around Cole once they were in public. As they walked to homeroom, Cole spoke up for the first time.

  “Sorry if I'm acting weird. I don't feel like myself. It will be good to get back to a routine.”

  Something in his tone prevented the apology from washing away her trepidation, but he sounded sincere. She relaxed, reminding herself how ridiculous it was to be nervous around Cole. If there was one person she knew best, it was him, and he would never do anything to upset her.

  Word had gotten out around school about why Cole had missed the last three days, and Amy noticed a distance around him, quick glances in his direction and quiet whispers behind his back. There was one person, however, who did not participate in these acts. The moment he entered homeroom, Michelle came running up to him, an expression of utmost sorrow on her face.

  “Oh my God, Cole! You're back so soon. I'm so sorry.” She embraced him in a tight hug. “If there's anything I can do, let me know. And don't worry, I'll finish the project. Not that you care. Oh.” She stopped and took a step back, her eyes moist, waiting to gauge Cole's response.

  “Thanks,” Cole said toneless. “I appreciate the kind words. I don't mind working on the project some more with you.”

  “Are you sure? I really don't mind finishing it.”

  “It would be good to occupy my mind. I'll speak to you later.” He turned and walked stiffly to his seat.

  Amy took her own seat, glancing back and forth between Cole and Michelle. Dammit, why does she have to be so nice? Makes it really difficult to hate her. What am I thinking? That's so petty at a time like this. Stupid.

  When she could, Amy kept a concerned eye on Cole who remained emotionless and distant throughout the day. However, with each conversation he seemed more and more alive, his responses longer and less creepy. Maybe he is getting better. Maybe school is actually helping.

  In biology, they were split into their teams to work on their projects. Amy paid little attention to her partner, Alexia, as she always had one eye on Cole. Alexia had to repeat herself numerous times, and Amy's responses were short and noncommittal. By the end of the period, she had frustrated her partner beyond tolerance, but only barely registered the damage.