The Waif's Tale

by C. L. Stegall

  "So. What's your point?" My faux innocence was not winning over my friend. Not at all.

  "I should just slap some sense into you, here and now. What the hell happened that has you scampering away from him like a..." She stopped and stared wide-eyed at me for a moment or two. I saw her expression soften and her shoulders slump. "You finally saw it. Scared the shite out of you, huh?"

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Right. Play it off." She moved to sit next to me on the sofa, twisting around so that she was cross-legged facing me. "You figured out he loves you."

  I sat there, mouthing empty silent nothings. I didn't know what to say. She was right, of course. Still, that wasn't the worst part of it. I turned to her and opened my mouth to say it but the words just wouldn't come. The realization swept over me and I experienced a pressure I had never known. I swear it felt like some invisible person had their hand around my heart and was squeezing it to the point of bursting. I couldn't help it. I wept.

  "Oh, Paris," London said, moving to sit beside me and wrap her arms around my shaking shoulders. "You love him, too. That's great. It's wonderful."

  "It sucks," I moaned, between sobs. I had never felt like this before and it was painful and it pissing me off. I didn't feel in control of my own emotions and I didn't know how to handle it.

  "Yes, ma'am, it does." London laid her head against mine. “But, it's wonderful, too. Why are you running from it?"

  "I can't do this. This is not me. I don't know what's going on and I can't stop it." My sobs had melted into sniffles and quiet tears but the pain in my chest remained as forceful as ever.

  "Why on earth would you want to stop it? Love is the best thing in the world. It's the best reason for living at all and, for us, that's saying something."

  I knew that for the Valensi, having such long lives, there would have to be a key to remaining sane over all of that time. I now fully understood why the magistrate was involved with Cassie. We all needed someone with whom to share this life.

  For the longest time, I had recognized that Garrett was the benchmark of friendship. I believed wholeheartedly that he would be the steadfast signpost in my life, always there, never changing. but, now things had definitely changed. Was I really ready for that?

  "I'm confused," I admitted.

  "Welcome to real life, my friend." I stared at her, uncertain of what she meant. She smiled and kissed my forehead. Shaking her head slowly, she said, "You've managed to keep most emotions at arm's length so far. but, that isn't truly living. Living is experiencing all that life has to offer. That means pain and sorrow, heartbreak and unbridled joy."

  "I've missed out on that last one," I said, melancholy in tone and truth.

  "Until now."

  I turned to look her in the eyes. There was such depth to those cocoa eyes of hers. So beautiful, so caring. I asked the question that had been gnawing at me for almost a year. "Am I ready for this?" She laughed.

  "Probably not."

  "Thanks for the honesty."

  "That's what I'm here for," she said, pulling me in for a strong quick hug before adding, "No one is ever really ready for love. but, when it hits you, you have two choices: ignore it and miss out on all of the ups and downs that come along with it, or sink your teeth in and hold on for the ride of your life. It is always your choice."

  "I have a feeling that this is not going to be easy. What if I'm wrong? What if he doesn't feel the way I think he does?"

  "Oh, God!" she exclaimed. "You really are an idiot."

  "Huh?"

  "Paris, that man has been in love with you forever." She saw the look of confusion on my face and broke down in gut-wrenching laughter that quickly became contagious. I giggled as she laughed so hard that she fell from the sofa onto the floor, lost in hysterics.

  "Okay, okay!" I yelled at her, finding it hard to keep the smile from my own face. "That's enough!"

  CHAPTER 59

  PRESENT

  T he monster stared at me for long moments. In the end, his face fell a little and he nodded. "What do you want?"

  "I want you to tell me what you see, as you're dying." I refrained from informing him that I would see whatever he experienced whether he related it vocally or not.

  "You're insane."

  "I told you not to call me that." I knelt before him, one hand bracing against his thick thigh. "You see, Doug, I've lived a long time and I've got a lot more time to go if I play my cards right. After a hundred or so years, I've come to the belief—the hope, if you will—that there is more to life than just occupying this meat shell we call a body.

  "Are you familiar with Biocentrism, Doug? No? How about quantum mechanics? You've heard of that, right? Any clue in that thick head of yours what quantum mechanics really is?"

  He shook his head. I was fully aware that he was rapidly rattling off innumerable ways in which he might escape his predicament. I wanted to get my notions across to him, however. Since, in my mind, his understanding might influence the outcome of this little experiment.

  "Think of quantum mechanics as a theory of how, on a minute level, everything interacts with everything… past, present and future. It's funny how you can say quantum mechanics and people take you seriously, since it is a defined and experimented upon theory—although I tend to agree with Einstein in that no one really understands quantum mechanics. However, if you say parallel universes, people tend to think of comic books and science fiction novels. Funny thing is they're both one and the same."

  "If you're going to kill me, do it now," he said. "You're starting to give me a headache." It was a good line and I laughed out loud for a few seconds.

  "Doug, I need to you to understand what I expect from you. I want you to tell me everything you see, even as your vision will fade and you slip off this mortal coil. I want you to tell me if you're going to heaven or hell, or if you're simply falling into the dark abyss of nothingness, lost and separate from all of existence."

  "I'll tell you what," he said, holding his chin up. "Why don't you go to hell, instead? I'll be happy to watch. I'll relate that to your crazy ass. How's that?"

  I lost my patience. With a swift and exact motion, I removed his left eyeball from its socket, leaving it dangling along the side of his heavy jowl. The optic nerve stretched along his cheek, blood and aqueous humor seeping down into his shirt. He howled in pain.

  "What say we get this show on the road?" I said. I leaned in, placing the sharp fingernail of my index finger against his thick neck, punching into his jugular. The luscious red of his liquid life pulsed out onto the ground in time with the pounding of his heart, a strong, slow and steady stream.

  "You bitch!"

  "Under the circumstances, I will give you that one, Doug. Now, do pay attention."

  The big man went from defiant to defeated in a matter of seconds. He began to sob, the tears mingling with the blood and fluid from his dangling eyeball. I slipped into his mind, this time redoubling my efforts to remain unseen by his subconscious.

  Doug's mind was all blank walls and dreary hallways. The thoughts dancing around inside of the monster's mind were of everything from youthful memories to recent kills. His last victim appeared to have been in her early teens. What he put that little girl through only served to solidify my methods. He deserved worse than I was going to give him.

  "As you weaken, Doug, you'll find that time will slow to a crawl. You will feel every beat of your heart as it spits the life from your body. What is it that you see, Doug? Are you experiencing the whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes phenomenon?"

  "I'll tell you what I see," he replied, his voice not quite as venomous as before. "I see a little girl who's just as fucked up as I am. You may take my life, believing me to be nothing more than a monster, but you are only the sum of your actions. You are monstrous and insane in your own right."

  I nodded. Perceptive bastard, he was. "I can't say I disagree with you, Doug. It's just that, at the moment, I'm the bigger
, badder monster. Looks can be deceiving can they not?"

  Doug's head lolled forward. It was time. I slipped deeper into his mind as I commanded, "Tell me what you see, Doug." I received the response I expected. He used the last bit of strength he had to lift his head, staring at me with his one remaining eye.

  "Fuck you, you little bitch."

  The cold grey walls of Doug's mind began to break apart, crumbling away to reveal a deep, palpable darkness. In the distant black I saw him appear, walking toward me with his head held high. I focused all of my ability on remaining unseen, cloaking my presence against his thoughts and perceptions. All of my efforts in this were in vain.

  "What do you see?" he asked, as he approached me within the confines of his own mind.

  "I see a man who has no regrets."

  "Not true. but, before I divulge my one regret, why don't you bend my ear with why you think I should, indeed, have regrets?"

  "You're a serial murderer and rapist. You served no purpose but to destroy. Do you feel nothing for the lives of the young women you stole? Of that man in Baton Rouge, the one you maimed with the jack handle?"

  "I do not. I regret none of it. I am what I am. Did you ever stop to think that my purpose was just that: to destroy?"

  "You've got to be kidding me."

  "Really? Have you ever thought of your own purpose? How many lives have you taken over your decades of death and destruction? And, do not deny it," he said, pointing a thick finger my way. "We're well past the petty lies of human nature, aren't we?"

  I thought about what he was saying. Had my life been nothing but death and destruction? It was certainly made up of quite a bit of that. Still, did I not serve a greater purpose? Did I even have a purpose? That question had nagged at me for decades. How was it that this monster saw into me as easily as I saw into him?

  "I won't deny that I've doled out my share of death over the years. As much as it pains me to admit it, as you inferred, as you have yours, so do I have my own nature. I've found it is nearly impossible to fight against one's own nature." I found my hands on my hips, staring him down as I added, "but, it can be done."

  "You're right," he said, with a slight nod. "You can change your nature if it is what you truly wish. You must go after that change wholeheartedly, however. It's like smoking. It may be a bit of an addiction but humans fail to realize the power they wield. You can change your habits as easily as turning the page of a book. You need only to truly want the change. Make up your mind and do it."

  "So you could have stopped your rampages. You could've stopped killing."

  "I could have, yes. I just enjoyed it far too much. I didn't want to change."

  "Yet you said that you have a regret," I said, lifting an eyebrow, wondering what he might have found sorrowful. I wondered at what he might have been sorry he did, or did not do. "What is it? What is your one regret?"

  The bastard smiled at me as the walls of darkness shook around us and cracks formed like lightning bolts against the deep surfaces. From the cracks, deep crimson began to ooze, bloody streams of promise. The bloody cracks separated more and more as Doug took a slow step toward me. I could feel the pull, like a strange vacuum pulling at the loose material of our clothes.

  Doug made one more attempt at a step toward me and I noted that the pull was stronger from behind him, the gashes in the darkness widening into bright red crevasses, valleys of threat that began to suck all of the thick crimson blood back into themselves. Doug was struggling to stand upright, his eyes focused on mine.

  "My one regret?" he said, the strength of the vortex behind him dragging him, now. "I only regret that I did not get the chance to flay the flesh from your sexy little body. I regret not having my chance with you. Perhaps someday."

  With that, he stopped his struggle and the bulk of him was lifted and drawn backwards several meters into one of the growing, glowing red crevasses. He struck it with force, his arms and shoulder blades cracking from the brunt of it. Even as he was dragged into the cavernous maw of blood red torment, his eyes never left mine.

  In the moment he was gone, my mind flashed back into my own body, just in time to feel the bullet rip into my back. The bullet exited with a gush of blood from my upper chest and I sat back on my haunches in shock. I tried to take a breath. It hurt like hell. Determined, shocked and pissed, I stood and turned to face my attacker. Two large darts with metal tips buried themselves consecutively into my chest and stomach.

  I managed only one step before the world around me pin-wheeled from existence.

  CHAPTER 60

  1962, The Citadel, Age 85

  G arrett turned the corner some twenty feet away and our eyes locked. My hearts thumped in my chest with the force of tribal drums. I was certain he could hear the sounds and smell the fear on me. As if time had become overrun by amber, it slowed and everything else around me took on a hazy perspective as if seen through a warped lens.

  As we got closer, I realized that I had never before encountered this sensation, this overload of sensory input. From an analytical perspective, it was quite fascinating. From a personal perspective, I was scared shitless.

  We stopped with only inches separating us. I looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. His dark brown hair was short but thick with waves, his eyes the darkest of blue with tiny gold flakes around the edge of the irises. I kept my eyes locked onto his. "I needed time," I said after a few long moments.

  "I understand." His voice was soft, with a husky edge that I did not remember hearing before.

  "You've the patience of Job."

  "It wasn't easy."

  "I have to be honest," I said, fighting back the tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm unbelievably frightened of this."

  "I understand," he said again. With those two simple words, I realized that London was right. It had been right there in front of me the entire time and I was blind, completely ignorant of it. Garrett was the one.

  "I'm an idiot," I said, finally breaking eye contact and hanging my head. I felt his finger come gently up under my chin. I let him lift my face back up into view.

  "No. You're amazing. You are who you are and I love that about you." He broke into a wide grin and winked at me. "I always knew you'd come around."

  "Why didn't you just tell me?" I asked, wondering why he had waited in the wings for so very long.

  "You weren't ready."

  "I am now," I said, hearing the hoarse edge to my own voice. It caught me off-guard how sexy it sounded. I could see that he thought so, too.

  "We have all the time in the world."

  "No," I said, wrapping myself around him, letting him do the same. "I have a lot of catching up to do."

  * * * * *

  I have to admit that the first few weeks consisted mostly of unbelievable bouts of marathon sex, tempered with long conversations about everything and nothing. It was fantastic. Yet, it wasn't like it was with Thorne. No. This was the real deal. It was beautiful and consuming, tender and breathtaking, filled with moments of denial and surrender. All of it tore at my emotions.

  Garrett was remarkable. He was patient, kind, forceful and caring. He made me feel like a different person. Each moment I spent with him – so different than the time we'd spent together before – felt as if I were being created anew. He was quite observant of that fact.

  "You're trembling," he said, one evening months later. I nodded, my head laid across his bare chest. I was surprised to find that he was surprisingly hairless, in all the right places. He claimed it was natural and knowing our metabolism and makeup I couldn't call him on it. So, I loved laying my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his wonderful heart. The lift and fall of his breathing and the feel of his fingers gently tangling in my mousy brown hair mesmerized me.

  "I guess I'm still not used to this," I said, refusing to return his obvious gaze.

  "You're doing fine, my love."

  "See? That right there." I lifted my head to find his eyes. "I'm
not sure I will ever get used to that tone and those words."

  "I hope not."

  "What do you mean?" According to London, this was far from my area of expertise and I recognized the truth in her words at the moment.

  "I mean, I hope you're always happy to hear that tone and those words. From now until forever."

  "Good God. There it is again. You really mean that, don't you?" I could hear the weight of his words, the depth of meaning he had put behind them and it made my heart shudder. I saw him nod and said, "How do you know?"

  "Know what?"

  "How do you know that you'll love me from now until forever, as you put it?" I frowned when he smiled at me as if I were a child, just learning the ways of the world.

  "Let me ask you this. How do you feel about me right now, at this moment?"

  The question caught me unawares and I had to pause to think about it. We'd been together for almost six months and I had refused to think deeply on the whole situation. I knew, from so many moments of self-discovery, that it was out of fear that I might find it all to be false, a dream. I closed my eyes when I realized that I truly did not want that to be the case. I wanted it all to be real. I wanted it all to be the future I now had laid out before me. A lifetime with the man I loved. No hesitation, no uncertainty, no distrust. I opened my eyes and said as much to his face. I expected he would be hurt but he only nodded.

  "You know that is impossible, right? No one can know the future. No one, especially you, with your unfortunate past, can escape the foibles of humanity. You will most likely always feel that niggling of self-doubt, that unavoidable concern that I, like Thorne and even your father before him, would betray you."

  "Jesus," I whispered. "How can you be so nonchalant about it?" The pressure built against the walls of my hearts and I took a slow deep breath.

  "Because I know you, Paris. I've known you most of your life, since you were a child. And, I am here to tell you now that there is one truth that you must understand and accept."