“You did it. I know he left under strong protest, but how did you make him leave?” Mort’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward when he asked. “That doesn’t happen too often, you know. Not everyone can do that.”
“What do you mean? You told me I could do it,” I adjusted the blood-soaked washcloth.
“Well, that was more of a last ditch effort on my part. I know it can be done, but I’ve never actually known someone to fight their way out of a bridge.”
My eyes rolled and I flashed a half grin at my reflection in the mirror.
“How did it start? How did you know you had been bridged?”
“I couldn’t stop myself at first. I felt his feelings, his hatred. I knew I didn’t have those feelings toward you. I got angry when I knew I couldn’t control my own actions. I didn’t want to come into your room, but I had no choice. I felt violated. A part of my mind told me to force my way back in to control. I focused hard and my head hurt, but I also regained access to my mind. The more I focused, the worse it hurt but the more I gained control. Finally, when you yelled at me, my mind surged, and the pain vanished. My legs went weak, and that’s when I fell to the floor.” I adjusted the washcloth again. “I don’t know why, but he truly hates you. He had bad intentions if he had gotten to you.” I reached for a new towel.
The room fell silent for a few seconds before he finally responded.
“Mallen. That’s his name. Let’s just say we have a history. I’ve tried to…eliminate him on several occasions, but it hasn’t worked.”
The river of blood had become a trickling stream, and I lowered my chin. “So, he’s coming after both of us now?”
“He’s been trying to get to me for years. We have a thing that we haven’t resolved. Now he has you to go after, too. I knew you would be in danger after your parents died. I’m here to help you.”
I let his words sink in before responding.
“What can we do about it? I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying if that thing will leave me stranded in the middle of the highway again, or make me go ape shit crazy and kill people.”
He sat motionless, pondering my words before answering.
“It’s dangerous, but we can do it.”
“Dangerous for who, me or you?”
“Both of us.”
Mort’s squinted eyes held mine. Then as if planned, we flashed a smile that we both understood. We had to get rid of Mallen.
We went downstairs to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. I poured each of us a cup and cut through the silence.
“What do we have to do?”
Mort sat across from me with his gaze locked on mine.
“First of all, we need to get a harness for you. I don’t think I can rest knowing you may get the urge to kill me in my sleep.” He grinned. “We need a plan. I’m sure you pissed Mallen off when you gave him the boot last time, and he won’t be as easy to get rid of now that he knows what he’s up against.”
“How do we get rid of him, or it, whatever? Do we kill it, or what? How the hell would you kill it if it’s inside me?”
I grew more concerned having said that last statement aloud.
“Don’t worry, Michael. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be pleasant for either one of us, but it won’t kill you.” He raised an eyebrow.
-Chapter 9-
The next afternoon, we installed my harness. It felt like a flesh and blood entry into an abused child’s journal. My right foot continued to twitch back and forth while I allowed him to chain me to the wall. The leather wrist straps were snug but not too tight. My eyes dropped to my waist where he reached around to secure the belt part of the harness to the I-bolt in the wall. He cinched it down on my waist.
“Well, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, are you?” He stepped back to admire his work.
Panic rushed inside me. I had never been claustrophobic, but the room closed in around me, and I panted.
“Whoa, whoa. Relax.”
My wrists pulled away from the wall, and the chains became taut.
“I’ll undo it, calm down.” Mort stepped toward me.
“Hurry up!” Beads of sweat dripped from my brow.
I stood up and backed away from the bed. I saw it in a different light, a dangerous light.
“So how do we do it?”
“Well, first we get you tucked in comfy and safe, and then we wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Mallen.”
“How the hell do you expect me to fall asleep knowing I’m doing it with the intention of making myself bait for that foul-smelling thing to come and get me?”
“Listen to me. Mallen will come for you whether you like it or not. We might as well even the playing field a little so we have some control over things when he gets inside that head of yours.”
I stood with my back pressed to the wall while my mind wrestled with my situation.
“What are you going to do? Where will you be?”
“Don’t worry. You will know when it’s time. You need to trust me. You do trust me, right?”
The moment the words left his lips, my stomach rolled on itself. I had only met the man a few days ago and I now found myself living under the same roof as him, allowing him to chain me to the wall. He’d known mom and dad, so I’d allowed him into my life like few others.
Having no choice, I answered honestly. “What choice do I have?”
“Let’s go grab something to eat before we do this tonight. I want to show you something. I’ll drive.”
Mort continued with small talk as we took Interstate 95 and drove for about 20 minutes before he took the off ramp to Brookesville. I’d never been there, but based on what I’d heard my hand instinctively reached toward the door to make sure it was locked.
“Why are we here?”
“You asked about Somnibus here, in our world. I want to show you something.” He swiveled his head from street corner to street corner.
The sun had only set an hour before and already the streets were alive with dealings in the shadows.
“The Somnibus are mostly active in the weak, the vulnerable. The people who have given up on life and turn to drugs to help escape their miserable realities. The Somnibus prey on them. They show them an alternate reality in exchange for borrowing their body for a couple of hours.”
“Why is it only a couple of hours, why don’t they just move in permanently? Our world isn’t great, but it’s better than that awful place they live in.”
“Somnibus can only bridge for a short period of time. They’re parasitic. They use the host just long enough to feed or to do their dirty work. They must leave the host or risk remaining in the host’s mind for good. They wouldn’t be able to live here in our world. They couldn’t function as humans, and they would die within days.” He continued to scan the streets.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
The words had no sooner left my lips than the car pulled to the curb. Mort’s eyes fixed on the corner across from us.
“Let’s take a walk.”
“You’re kidding me?” He closed the door and left me in the car alone.
I took my time unbuckling my seat belt. Mort stood in front of the car and looked back at me. His eyes made it clear he wasn’t kidding.
We approached a homeless man huddled in a corner. I stood back while Mort approached the man.
“Hey, buddy.”
The shadowy figure either didn’t hear Mort or didn’t care to. Stringy, matted hair hung like a veil over the man’s face. The trench coat remained hunched in the corner with no response. Mort lifted his foot and pushed the ragged man in the lower back. The man lost his balance, and his shoulder struck the wall.
I stepped forward to help the man, but Mort stuck his arm out and held me back.
The trench coat twisted toward us to reveal a weathered face secreted by sunglasses. Mort leaned toward the man and snatched the sunglasses from his face. Arthritic hands rose to sh
ield the man’s face from the false light washing over us. The man did not attempt to escape as Mort squatted down, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his face into view.
I moved away from Mort’s arm and stepped forward to help the man.
“Stop it! What are you doing?”
Mort found the center of my chest with his outstretched arm. The solid hand in my sternum gave me reason to pause before stepping any closer.
“Look, Michael. Just look for a second!”
My eyes gained focus as I leaned in behind Mort’s forearm. The man’s pupils were the size of quarters, his chin wet with moisture. My eyes squinted, trying to make sense of it. The man rolled his head back and forth as if he was cracking his neck. The liquid remained in place on his chin as Mort stood up, bringing the man to his feet.
Mort leaned in to the man’s face, so close their noses nearly touched. Mort’s head tilted from side to side, like a curious puppy, into the colorless eyes of the man when the man’s lower jaw disjointed and his head fell backward. A noxious, piercing shriek escaped, and the air filled with the familiar smell of copper and decaying flesh.
Mort held steady, appearing neutral to the stench. The man’s fingers splayed wide while his body went rigid with a seizure. After a minute or so, he went limp, slumping into Mort’s chest. He caught the man beneath his armpits and eased him to the ground. After Mort stepped back from him, I saw the source of the wetness on the man’s chin. Stepping closer, I inspected the heap on the ground where the man had squatted in the corner.
A dying kitten lay on the ground, a hole eaten into it, shimmering viscera oozing from the twitching feline. I knelt down and saw the suffering in its eyes. Blood bubbled from its wound. Leaning over, I puked on the sidewalk.
As I wiped the dangling wretch from my chin, I turned my head back to the suffering animal, just in time to catch the smashing blow from Mort’s heel. I rocked back and fell away as the warm splatter decorated my face. Mort stood over me and extended his hand as if he had just done me a favor.
I slapped his hand away and jumped to my feet. I shoved Mort in the chest and followed him as he stumbled backward into the wall.
“What the fuck was that? That was horrible! What are you doing?”
“That animal had suffered enough. If I had a gun, I would have shot it, but I don’t.” He stepped forward and put his hands on my shoulders. I shook them free and stepped away.
“I need you to calm down and focus for a minute. I’m sorry about the cat, but that’s not what you need to focus on right now. Did you see how that man acted? Look at the streets around us.”
I held Mort’s eyes for a moment and then did as he said. If I hadn’t seen what I had, I wouldn’t have given a second thought to the homeless piled up on the corners. The ones with sunglasses turned toward us, watching.
“Let’s just get back to the car, Michael.”
I followed Mort back to the car without question. As we got in, some of the homeless wearing sunglasses stood motionless, some of them tensing up in seizure, slumping to the ground and convulsing.
Before we drove off, a few of the shady figures made their way to the curb in front of us. I pushed the lock down while they stood with their heads tilted to one side or the other, their sunglasses fixed on our car.
“Mort? Should I be worried now?”
The moment I said it, a concerted hissing filled my ears, the air infected with the rotten smell of death and copper.
“Yeah, now would definitely be a good time to be a bit concerned.” He pressed the accelerator to the floor.
-Chapter 10-
Mort gave one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the house. I remained in the car, processing the tidal wave of information that flooded my brain.
After a few minutes, I got out and headed to my room. Climbing the stairs never felt so arduous. Mort waited by the bed with a grin on his face.
“How you feeling, Sunshine?” He said through parted lips.
“You’re having too much fun.”
Time ticked by as I made my way over to Mort.
“You need to know what we are up against and what you are capable of doing to fight back. Now come on over here and let me chain you up.”
My vision closed in as I made my way to that side of the room. Mort stood at my bedside, holding shackles and a padlock. My ears pounded in an increasing rhythm, and my mind showed me the Somnibus, my nose wrinkling at the thought of its stench. The light and sound within the room magnified tenfold. The clanging of the chains reverberated in my heightened state as Mort’s lips continued moving but I didn’t hear what he said.
I sat back as he chained me to my bed. He bound my wrists first and my ears continued to pound as the confines tightened. The leg shackles unsettled me the most. Something about having my legs secured at the ankles and my legs spread slightly apart made me feel the most vulnerable. Mort finally secured the belt of the harness to the I-bolt. One last tug on the straps cinched me into place.
Mort stepped back like an artist admiring his work.
“Now what?”
“Well, you go nighty night, and we wait.”
“How do you expect me to sleep with all of this?”
“I don’t think you’ll have a problem.” He turned to the nightstand behind him.
When Mort faced me again, his hand held a syringe. My chains struggled against their anchors as I tried to move away.
I screamed, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Relax, this will just take the edge off enough to allow your mind to relax and accept the bridge,” he said in a calm tone.
“Stop it!”
I thrashed at my confines, wishing them free. Mort remained silent as he unsheathed the needle and held it to the light with his thumb against the plunger. I continued to struggle as a drop of the liquid breached the end of the needle and twisted its way down to the hub.
Mort lowered the needle, his eyes squinting to meet mine as I shook my body trying to break free from the chains. My right shoulder did its best to avoid having the needle pushed into the muscle but was unsuccessful.
Mort became two, then three, and continued to multiply as the room spun away from me. The fight left my body and my eyelids closed as my body succumbed to the injection.
“You trust me, right?” My consciousness swirled away.
My eyes sprung open and I stood over the empty shackles on my bed. I had no sense of reality. Mort lay slumped at the side of my bed with his head pinned against the nightstand. Holding my hands to my face, staring first at the backs and then the palms as if I’d never seen them, I zigzagged on unsteady legs toward the bathroom.
My reflection in the mirror revealed fully dilated pupils. The vise clamped down on the base of my skull as I struggled to find a way to win back the control center of my brain.
My hand reached into the shower, turning on the hot water. The mirror soon became moist as my reflection faded away. My hand reached up and my finger pressed into the moisture. I drew it across the mirror, leaving well-defined lines in its wake. Stepping back to survey the work, my head ached more while I squinted at the lettering. My eyes widened when I read the characters left in the wetness:
BE SAFE TONIGHT
MORT
The vise became an ice pick that stabbed at the base of my head as the reality of the intrusion sunk to the bottom of my brain. Mort was at the controls and the last time I saw him he stuck a needle in my arm.
I had no choice but to accept his control. The stabbing pain in the base of my skull overwhelmed me, my mind too weak to force him out.
Shutting the shower off, I made my way back to my bedroom, reached into the nightstand, and pulled out my mother’s trace stone. Now aware of its capabilities, a wave of anxiety fluttered in my stomach. I made my way back to the bed when I realized the pain in my head had subsided since I’d stopped fighting the bridge.
I realized that I did trust him, and I would allow myself to become a pa
ssenger in my own ship as he took the controls.
I sat where Mort had made my security harness. As I secured myself to the contraption, a surge of strength filled my chest. I’d never felt so confident. My mind and body had merged with Mort’s. He was a strong man, and I felt it at that moment. I was ready to fight.
A picture of my parents sat on the nightstand while my fingers curled around the trace. My eyes closed and waves of emotions flowed from my mind into my stomach. The warmth of the emotions filled my body as the energy struck me, signaling the bridge. My eyes opened to the familiar green haze engulfing the periphery of my vision. The sun once again warmed me while I walked through a sprawling meadow of sunflowers. My dress, my mother’s dress, swirled in the fresh breeze as I reached up to touch her warm face. I enjoyed the sensation, knowing the place would soon turn dark and foul.
I basked in the warmth and enjoyed the happy thoughts of my mother until the green haze faded and the sun dropped from the horizon. The sunflower field went flaccid as a cold wind poured in, sucking the warmth and life from the place. My mother’s veneer flaked away and drifted into the darkness.
The tainted air filled my nose and settled onto my skin. The sorrow for the loss of my parents surfaced, and I sobbed.
The Somnibus appeared in the distance and closed in quickly. They circled around me, darting in and out, as the whirlwind of shadows closed in. One came forward, Mallen I presumed. Its tendrils extended from under the cloak to capture me, first wrapping my feet then slithering toward my waist. The clammy extensions pulsed as they held me and dragged me closer to the creature. His gaunt hand seized my chin and drew me in.
Face to face with the shadow, I had no fear. The yawning, empty sockets of its face crept closer, its lower jaw separating. The piercing call of the Somnibus escaped its fetid throat. My ears throbbed as the others followed suit, and a concerted, high-pitched hiss filled the air.
Its grip overpowered me, and then the dark face of my attacker lit up in a vibrant, green glow. I lifted my hand to my face, and my palm emitted an emerald light that brought detail and fear to its face. My arms reached out and grabbed the thing when it tried to retreat, and my unyielding grip pulled him closer. The others fled into the darkness, leaving the lone Somnibus to struggle in the light. The tendrils encasing my legs became loose but did not release. The shrieking intensified as the thing writhed in front of me.
The Somnibus: Book I - Finding the Mark (A Paranormal Thriller) Page 4