The Origin

by Youkey, Wilette

  The light flicked on, illuminating the completely bare apartment. She followed him inside, refusing to believe that this was Daniel’s place.

  “There’s been a mistake,” she said even as she stared at the dent in the wall where she and Daniel had made love just the night before. “Daniel doesn’t live here.”

  Lingle checked each room then returned to the living room, his hands on his waist as he panted. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.” The note slipped from her fingers as she tried to come to terms with the situation.

  Lingle picked it up and examined the piece of paper. “Where did he go, Olivia?” He held the note aloft, his face a picture of exasperation.

  “Why do you care?” she shouted, her voice bouncing around the room and inside her head. Why didn’t he care?

  Lingle passed the note back to Olivia’s trembling hand. “Earlier this week, I received two DNA results from the blood found at the building where you were being held. One was from John Mathers. The second was from an unknown person. A DNA test was also performed on the black mask that you had shown such interest in. And guess what? The two match.”

  Olivia fought to conceal her gasp of shock. “So what?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “So what?” His eyes glittered ominously. “So what is that I’ve been looking at surveillance footage of that office all night. And so what is that your boyfriend appeared on that video, spilling his DNA all over that office floor.”

  He came closer then, his face mere inches from hers so that she was forced to take a step back. “So I ask you Miss King, because I think you know, is Daniel Johnson the Black Hero?”

  She stiffened her spine and looked him in the eye, a defiant lift to her quivering chin. “What does it matter now, Detective? He’s gone and he doesn’t intend on coming back.”

  Lingle’s gaze faltered as he stepped away. “He will. He’ll come back for you. The hero always comes back for his girl. And when he does, I’ll be waiting.”

  She shook her head as the tears touched the edge of her eyes once again. “No, he won’t,” she said, turning away. But she didn’t tell him what she finally had to accept as she stood in that stark apartment: that if Daniel could leave without saying goodbye then he obviously did not care enough about her to return, hero or not.

  38 | A LIFE REVOKED

  Richard King paced around his daughter’s apartment, in front of the wall covered with mirrors, glaring down at his phone as if it were a Magic 8 Ball. He had been trying to call Olivia for over two hours, had been waiting at her apartment for one, and still his daughter was nowhere to be found.

  For four days he had waited patiently for Olivia to come to him, had wanted her to work through her issues before they talked, but the well of his patience had finally dried up. He was her father and she had to answer to him.

  Fifteen minutes before midnight, Olivia finally arrived, and though he was irate, he immediately noticed the puffy eyes and the bandage on her ankle, causing his fatherly instincts to kick in.

  “What are you doing in here? Who let you in?” She remained standing by the door, not daring to come closer.

  Richard could not take it anymore. With two steps, he stood in front his daughter and wrapped her in his arms. “Olivia, sweetheart, I am so happy you’re all right.”

  Her stiff demeanor melted as she buried her face into his shirt and began to sob.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He rubbed circles on her back and made soothing noises. “Shh, Olivia. It’s alright.”

  “It’s not,” she mumbled.

  “You’re unhurt and that’s all that matters.”

  She looked up at him with damp cheeks and shook her head. But no matter how much he silently urged her to speak, to reveal to him her fears and secrets, she would not say a word.

  “Honey, what’s wrong? Smith didn’t tell me how traumatized you were about the kidnapping.” But then, he surmised, she probably just needed this hug from her dad. “Why haven’t you come to see me?” he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. He had waited patiently, then impatiently, then had turned to those closest to her, but nothing had worked.

  She pushed away from his chest and wiped her face, then took off her coat and hung it carefully on the rack, all the while refusing to meet his eyes.

  “Olivia Mei,” he said more sternly. He would pull the fatherly voice out of storage if need be. Hell, he would count her down to three if that’s what it took to get his daughter back. “I asked you a question.”

  After several long moments, she finally met his gaze. “Because you treat me as if I’m still a child.” She shook her head as she sniffled.

  “I can’t help it, sweetheart,” he said more gently. “You’ll always be a little girl to me.”

  “Call off Smith.” The ferocity in her voice took him by surprise and he searched her face only to find stark determination. “I mean it.”

  “I can’t do that. Not until John Mathers is safely in jail.”

  She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. “Then we have nothing else to talk about,” she said, reminding him strongly of her mother. He couldn’t remember how many times Sarah had shut him out with such a simple gesture.

  “We’re done when we say we are,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She shot him a scathing look. “I don’t think so. Not under my roof.” She walked to the door and held it open.

  “Don’t forget who saved you, Olivia,” he warned.

  “From what I recall, a man named Smith saved me. And only after I was already molested, beaten and shot at. So Dad? Thanks, but no, you don’t get off that easily. Not until you can give me my privacy back.”

  He seethed as he walked to the door. “Safety, not privacy, is my main concern, daughter mine. I would do anything to keep you safe. I hope one day you come to respect that.”

  “Respect is a two-way street, father,” she said before slamming the door in his face.

  * * * * *

  Daniel slammed the door to the motel room and rushed to the bathroom where he immediately heaved into the rust-stained sink. He examined his reflection in the mirror, no longer recognizing the man staring back. It was impossible to deny that he was no longer that same impassive guy who worked as a bank security guard, who held the world away at an arm’s distance even as he fought to help its citizens. As it turned out, he was a far more destructive being than he could have even imagined, and he was killing Olivia slowly with each touch. As much as he hated the thought of leaving her behind, he realized he was left with no other choice. He was no stranger to death, but he was not about to stand by and watch as his cancer-inducing touches ate away at the only important person in his life.

  Still, he knew he’d been a coward at the ballet, had known that if he looked at her one more time he would never have found the strength to leave. He wanted to leave her a longer message – had spent the rest of the night drinking and walking around aimlessly as he composed a proper farewell letter in his head – but in the end, he hadn’t been able to bring pen to paper. A few measly words on a page could not possibly ease the sting of abandonment from someone who promised never to leave her side. He just hoped that he is not immediately cast down into hell when he stands before God in the end. He had, after all, sacrificed his happiness and his own well-being for the greater good. And though he had taken lives, he hoped that he could at least be forgiven for trying to do the right thing by Olivia. He could only hope that, in time, she would understand and maybe even come to remember him fondly.

  I’m sorry, Liv, he thought for the hundredth time as he took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and picked up the phone book. I’m sorry I have to leave so soon. I’m sorry I can’t be a normal man for you.

  Daniel slumped on the bed as he talked to a ticket agent on the line, asking for the cheapest one-way flight to Alaska with the intention of burying himself deep into the wilderness. Out there, in the craggy mountain ranges of the
Final Frontier, he could disappear and never even have to encounter another soul if he so chose. And if no suitable jobs were available, he was prepared to live off the land, eating fish, moose, bear, moss, whatever the hell it took.

  After he hung up the phone, he was scribbling down the flight information when a sharp pain exploded on the back of his head and he tumbled off the bed and onto his knees. Before he could turn around, he felt another blow at the base of his skull and he fell face first into the dingy green-brown carpet, momentarily blinded by pain.

  A heavy weight landed on Daniel’s back and the unknown assailant pulled his head back at a painful angle. “What did you do to me?” Daniel heard the familiar cold voice boom against his hear. “Tell me what you injected into me!”

  “John,” Daniel whispered, his eyesight still littered with white spots even as he craned his head to catch a glimpse of his attacker, seeing nothing but a thick metal pipe laying a few feet away.

  “Tell me what you injected into me!” John roared, pulling Daniel’s head back further then brutally slamming it down to the floor. “Tell me!”

  Daniel heard, or rather, felt a crack and then the warm blood gushing out of his nose. “I didn’t inject you with anything.”

  “Bullshit! You did something to make me invisible. Now tell me how to reverse it!” He pressed what felt like the barrel of a gun into Daniel’s throbbing head.

  Daniel opened his mouth for another denial but knew his words would be wasted. The rational part of John’s brain was obviously not engaged; all the guy wanted was someone to bear the brunt of his rage, and unfortunately for Daniel, it looked like it was his turn once again. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but frankly, he didn’t much feel like getting shot once again.

  Daniel exploded up off the floor, catapulting John off his back. A moment later, the invisible lunatic hit the wall across the room, leaving a huge crack in the fake wood paneling. “I didn’t inject you with anything. But you did get infected. And I’m sorry,” he said, scanning the room for any signs of John’s whereabouts. But the man was inexplicably stealthy for someone his size.

  Without warning, Daniel felt a meaty arm snake around his neck. “Infected?” John sneered, squeezing until Daniel thought his head would pop. “Infected with invisibility?”

  “It’s a long story,” Daniel said before grabbing John’s arms, folding forward and hurling John across the room once again. The previously untouched chintzy mirror on the wall cracked and fell to the ground, shattering into large, jagged pieces. A shard suddenly rose from the pile and shot across the room, sending Daniel stumbling backwards as the glass embedded itself into the corner of his right eye. Before he could pull the offending object out, he felt another fragment bury itself into his arm and then another in his thigh.

  “Show yourself, you coward!” Daniel shouted, throwing punches wildly around the room. “Fight like a man.”

  “I can’t show myself, you asshole!” came the angry reply. A second later, Daniel doubled over as a large piece of the mirror was rammed into his stomach by the invisible force, causing blood to immediately bloom on his grey Rolling Stones t-shirt. The shard twisted around cruelly, forcing Daniel to his knees, his pain tolerance shot to hell.

  “This was my favorite shirt, you dick!” he cried. As he flung his fists out hopelessly, he felt another stab on the side of his neck and instinctively reached up to staunch the blood loss, a scream of agony stuck in his throat. A moment later, he was stabbed again on the other jugular vein, and then one more shard of glass was imbedded at the base of his spine.

  Daniel fell to the floor, woozy from the blood loss and finding the complete lack of sensation on the lower half of his body a welcome change. Through his rapidly blurring vision, he saw John’s blood-soaked arm float closer, a large sliver of the mirror still clutched in his hand. Daniel could only watch with detached fascination as both his wrists were slit, creating two more crimson geysers. From a far away place he wondered if bleeding out was really the manner in which he’d die, if it could even be that easy.

  He sensed John crouching nearby as his body began to twitch from the blood loss. “I don’t know how you survived last time, but you had better die this time,” John said and tossed the glass aside. “Then we’ll be even.”

  Daniel closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to finally rest and rid the world of an infectious freak. After all, dying was the only way he could guarantee that nobody else would contract his virus.

  But even as he contemplated embracing death, he could sense the blood stop gushing from his wounds, could feel his skin starting to knit itself back together. Because even if his mind had given up, his damn body was still determined to survive.

  As he cursed his DNA for the thousandth time, a memory of almond-shaped eyes flashed through his mind and pulled him back from the brink of hopelessness. After a few moments, Daniel opened his eyes and, with great effort, pushed himself up off the blood-drenched carpet. He stumbled a bit, still a little groggy but otherwise rapidly healing, and walked to the tiny bathroom where he could hear John murmuring. He peered around the corner and saw a bloody face in the mirror, a crimson mask smiling at its macabre reflection.

  “Hello there, my brother. God, I’ve missed your face,” John said, touching his image in the glass. His other bloodied hand began a swiping motion in the air, and slowly the reflection of a red chest began to appear as well. “Come back to me, Rap. I need you with me,” he said with a groan.

  Daniel hands clenched at his sides. “You sick son of a bitch.”

  John spun around, colliding with the open door in his haste. “That’s not… How…” he breathed, grasping the laminate counter behind him in shock. “What the hell are you?”

  Disgusted and worried about the repercussions of his infectious blood slathered all over his enemy, Daniel charged swiftly, pushing John into the tub, the plastic curtain ripping as both men fell. With one hand holding John down, Daniel grabbed the faucet handle and turned the shower on full, scalding blast.

  John screamed in fury as the water hit him, the blood running off his face. He punched and kicked but Daniel was not deterred, impressed even that the water was at a searing temperature for a motel shower. He watched with satisfaction as the red-tinged water swirled down the drain.

  “You’ve tried to kill me twice now. We’re even there,” he said through his teeth as his hands crept towards John’s neck. “But you hurt Olivia. So you have to die.”

  “Olivia? King?”

  “Don’t you dare say her name!” Daniel bellowed, wrapping his fingers around John’s burly neck, itching to squeeze the breath out of him. He could have ended the man’s life in a split second, but John still needed to know the reason why he was now going to die.

  The invisible man continued to struggle but managed to rasp, “You know her?”

  “Know her?” He pounded the back of John’s head into the tub. “I fucking love her!”

  Daniel paused, momentarily unclenching his fingers as his words ricocheted around in his head. I love her, he thought plainly, as if the words had been inside him all along. Too bad she’ll never know.

  John coughed. “Then why the hell are you leaving her?” He fumbled around and managed to turn the faucet off, instantly filling the bathroom with thick silence.

  Torn from his thoughts, Daniel turned back to his adversary and continued to squeeze the life out of him once more. “None of your business.”

  “She’s better off without you,” John croaked. Finally, after several long moments, he stopped struggling as his life ebbed away through the hands of his brother’s killer.

  Daniel stumbled out of the bathtub and fell onto the chipped laminate floor. He scrambled backwards, staring at the tub and the invisible dead man within, but his brain refused to dwell on what he’d done. Only John’s final words pierced his dense thoughts: She’s better off without you. No truer words had ever come out of that bastard’s mouth.

  Daniel finally rose from
the floor and began to pack his duffel bag at full tilt, wanting nothing more than to put distance between him and yet another dead body as quickly as possible. Realizing that the blood on the floor and walls would be a near impossible task to clean, he grabbed the half bottle of Jack Daniels on the bedside table and emptied it over the bloody carpet.

  The room was already beginning to burn, the flames sliding across the carpet and licking at the curtains, before Daniel closed the door behind him. And as he heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked off into the dark night, he felt a sense of relief sweep over him, washing away all of his previous worries. Olivia would be safe from John Mathers now, this much he could say with some certainty. He might not be good enough for her, but at least he could leave with the knowledge that he did his best to keep the woman he loved from harm.

  Still, his relief was short-lived for he knew that her face would never stop haunting his dreams and his every thought. He wouldn’t allow it. The constant reminder of his loss would be his atonement – however inadequate – for the lives he’d taken, and the knowledge that he was abandoning her was a pain he would have to suffer alone. And as he made his way on foot towards the airport, his heart weighed heavy in his chest once again, just the way he preferred it.

  After all, never does a villain of the story get a happily ever after.

  EPILOGUE

  “I never imagined it could be this painful.”

  Dr. Kara Vogele, PhD, leaned over, a pen in one hand and a pad of yellow paper in the other. “Would you mind elaborating?”

  Olivia stared into space. “Being abandoned again.” Her voice broke, echoing the sound that her heart was making. “I honestly thought it would hurt less the second time around.”

  “Your mother being the first?”