As It Seems...: Short Stories

by Marie Delta

  He looked at the tap confused for a moment, and then decided he must have gotten up and turned it off, he just could not remember. The young man slipped into the tub and relaxed, lying in a way that pushed as much of his body as possible under the water. Sitting there in the bathtub, Duncan thought about his dream and sighed. He had, somewhere inside him, wanted the whole thing to be true. He was saddened at the fact that his life would not become better overnight. What an easy life it must be, to be able to manipulate people and objects at will.

  The young man exited the shower, and pulled on his clothes. He sat on the edge of the bed wondering how long he had before the owner of the hotel kicked him out and put him back on the streets. He walked over to the door and opened it to try his key. The little light above the card reader flashed green, so he decided to go out and panhandle to get funds for another night.

  He was grabbing his phone when he heard a hissing voice, “Stay here.” Duncan looked around to the television; it was off. He decided he was hearing things and continued to slide his phone into his pocket. “Wait. Stay here.” He heard it again. This time he sat down on the edge of the bed and waited to hear more. After a few moments of hearing nothing, he stood again and slowly made his way to the door. “Don’t leave, yet. We must talk.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Duncan asked. He knew at once that the past couple of days had not been a dream. He knew it was real, and he was afraid, but refused to show it. He knew the voice came from inside him, and he knew that it was his fault.

  “I am you, Duncan. Don’t you remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. What do you want?”

  “I want to tell you the rules, Duncan. They are very important.”

  “Okay, so what are they?”

  “First, you must not speak to me out loud. I can hear your thoughts. There is no need for you to speak.”

  Duncan became even more afraid; thinking that his thoughts were no longer private made him shiver. So, he continued to speak out loud. “I prefer to talk. Just tell me what’s going on.” He heard nothing. No response was hissed into his ear, so he continued. “What do you want?” Still, nothing.

  He, again, walked towards the door, and had his hand on the knob when he heard it, “Stay here.”

  “Why won’t you talk to me, then?”

  “Do not speak out loud. You must not do that, for others will think you insane.”

  “I don’t care what they think.” He waited. But there was nothing. No answer. So he tried what the demon said, and thought, “Tell me the rules.”

  “Good job, Duncan. You learn fast. I like that.” Duncan waited. “You must know the rules before we step out into the world. That is why I brought you back here.”

  Duncan had another thought, “How did I get out of jail?”

  “That is of no importance to you. Now listen up. I will tell you the rules you must obey. First, you must never tell anyone about me. They will not believe you. Second, you must never show our power, unless it is time for me to move on. Third, you must stay alive. Fourth...”

  Duncan stopped him there, “Wait, stay alive is one of the rules? Am I in danger?”

  “No. Do not interrupt Duncan. Fourth rule, you must sacrifice one life every day.”

  “Wait, what?” He was speaking aloud again. “What do you mean sacrifice a life?”

  “Keep your mouth shut, boy. I will explain. The fifth rule is that you must pass me on to another before you expire. Now, do you understand?”

  “No! I don’t! What do you mean sacrifice a life? What the hell are you talking about?” Duncan was yelling now.

  “Quiet! You must learn to control your temper. I will answer your question. I need a life force to stay alive. I will feed off of you, unless you give me something else. You will age rapidly as I feed off your life force. For you to survive, you must sacrifice someone else.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes you can. You have to.”

  “Why didn’t the old man tell me?”

  “Would you have accepted me if he did?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Exactly. Now go get yourself something to eat.”

  “I don’t have to listen to you!”

  “Wrong, Duncan. You don’t have to obey, but you will always have to listen.”

  Chapter 11

  Duncan was ready to eat, whether or not the demon actually told him to. His body felt drained and he was tired and hungry. The only problem he could foresee was the fact that he had no money to spend. He thought to use his powers of manipulation to obtain a free meal, but he knew not how to do it. He left the room, checking his keycard again before shutting the door, and he headed out in no particular direction.

  He asked over and over, through thought, how he was supposed to go about getting a free meal, but the demon did not answer, so he passed up restaurant after restaurant. Finally, tired of walking, he entered a Mexican restaurant. He was seated immediately and ordered a Corona. The waiter was friendly, and to Duncan’s surprise did not card him.

  The menu did not get any attention, for Duncan knew exactly what he wanted, so he sat patiently waiting for the waiter to come back and take his order. He waited, and waited, but his order was never taken. Instead, the waiter came back with his Corona and a wet carnitas burrito. Duncan began to eat immediately. The food was the best he had ever tasted. And when he was done, he simply stood and left the eatery. No one tried to stop him.

  On the way back to the hotel, Duncan carried out a silent conversation with the entity that lived inside of him. “So...did you do that?” Duncan thought.

  “No, you did it,” was his reply.

  “How?”

  “You thought, and you received. You wanted it bad enough that you projected without realizing it. Basically, you were hungry and demanded to be fed.”

  Duncan walked slowly and thought about what the demon had said. If his body could request what it wanted without his approval, what else could be done without his knowledge?

  “I’m hungry now.” Duncan ignored the statement. “I said, I am hungry now, Duncan.” Duncan ignored it again. If he was to do anything, it was not to kill another being. He continued on his walk and pushed in the keycard when he arrived at the hotel. The door clicked open and he entered, ready to take a nice hot shower and take a nap. No matter what the demon was trying to whisper in his ear, that is exactly what he did. It took him a little longer to fall asleep, with the whispering, but eventually the demon calmed and quieted and Duncan fell asleep.

  Chapter 12

  Duncan woke up in the dark. He was not frightened, but surprised. He had left the hotel early and only expected to sleep a couple of hours or so. With the light and the television off, he could see nothing but the clock on his bed stand. It read one thirty. He thought to get up, but could not think of a single thing to do once he did. He scratched at his beard as he thought. He had no money, no beer, and no drugs. What could one do in the middle of the night in Vegas with no money?

  He reached for his phone, which he usually left on the bedside table, and found nothing, so he began to check the sheets for his little slice of technology. He checked under his pillow and under the blanket he had wrapped around his body, but still could not find it. Then he check the other side of the bed. He reached over and his hand hit something soft and cold.

  It felt, to him, like another body lying in his bed. He patted the thing and followed it down the length of the bed. It was a body. And it was cold. Duncan kept his composure, and instead of freaking out, stood up to turn on the light. He flicked it on and looked at the thing in his bed. It was a body. A body with red hair and freckles. It was O’Reilly. He was excited at seeing his friend, and happy that he had made it back to the hotel room, but he wondered how he had gotten in with no key.

  “Reilly! Reilly! Get up, man. Wake up!” He had walked around the bed to where O’Reilly slept and began to shake him violently. O’Reilly made no move to get up. He didn’t even grunt to l
et Duncan know he was waking up. “Reilly!” He tried again, ignoring the fact that his friend’s body was cold and stiff. It was not until he heard, “Thank you,” in his head that he knew. He knew O’Reilly had been his first sacrifice. But he refused to believe it. He called his name, and then rolled over the cold body lying in his bed.

  There was no blood, and no marks on the body, but O’Reilly was obviously dead. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling and Duncan went almost as cold as his friend when he realized it was no joke. Duncan leaped back a few paces and stared at the body lying in his bed. He could not accept that he, himself, had killed his best friend. He wondered for a moment how he had done it though he knew that he had broken the man's neck. He could feel it in his body. He could see it in his mind. O’Reilly had entered his room and the two men had sat watching cartoons and talking shit. They had laughed, they had smiled, and one had fallen asleep. The other one, Duncan, had been the one awake. He had watched as his friend slipped slowly into slumber and he had grabbed him, with two hands, by the head.

  With a sharp turn of his head to the right, Duncan had killed his best friend. He did it deliberately, yet very slowly. He had treated the head as it were the most delicate thing he had ever touched. But when he reached the stopping point of the turn of his head, he quickly jerked the man’s head and smiled at the unfamiliar clack of his neck.

  Duncan could remember all of this. He remembered killing the man just as he remembered laughing with the man. Killing had not been something that he intended to do, but at the time, he had no control over his body or what he did.

  Duncan stood and stared at the body for a few long moments. He was afraid but he knew not what he was afraid of. He had never seen a dead man, and for the dead man to be his one and only friend was a traumatizing event. What should he do? What could he do? He told himself call the police, to turn himself in, but he could not pick up the phone. He could not move at all.

  He just stood there staring at the body willing it to stand and speak. He willed the body to move. To twitch, to do anything other than lie cold and unmoving. A few minutes had passed before he decided to call the police.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “I, I have a dead body in my room. There’s a dead body in my room. I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything. He’s dead though. He’s in my bed and he’s dead.” Duncan rambled, now admitting to his fear.

  “Okay, sir, where are you?”

  “I’m at a hotel!”

  “Can you tell me the name of the hotel, sir?”

  “Uh, yes...yes I can. I’m sorry. He’s dead. He’s my best friend and he’s dead.”

  “Okay, sir. Just calm down a little for me and tell me where you are.”

  “I’m in a hotel!” He yelled at the operator as if his answered had actually helped in some way.

  “Sir, I need to know the name of the hotel.”

  “It’s uh, it’s Langli Inn! L as in Larry, a as in apple, n as in Nancy, g...”

  “Okay, sir, what is the room number?”

  “Fourteen! It’s room fourteen.”

  “Okay, the police are on their way.”

  “Thank you, thank you thank you. I am...I just don’t know. I rolled over and he was dead. I don’t know why.”

  “Okay, sir, like I said, the police are on their way. Can you stay on the line with me until they get there?”

  “Yes. Yes. I will. Just tell them to hurry, please.”

  “They should get to you in about five minutes, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Duncan paced the room, afraid to go near the body again. He stared into the dead man’s eyes and wondered how the unnamed demon had convinced him to take out his only friend.

  “Get out of my head! Get out of me. Leave me alone! I don’t want you here.”

  “Sir? I’m just trying to help.”

  Then, “Duncan. Calm down. End the call, and calm down. I will tell you what to do to fix this.”

  Duncan looked away from the body on his bed and whimpered, “Why him? Just why? Why him?” As he is saying this, there is a knock at his door.

  “Police!” He heard the call through his door and headed over to open it. As soon as it was open two officers stormed in, guns pointed at him. Duncan could see that there were more officers at his door, armed and at the ready. He threw his hands up and let the cops know that it was he who made the call. Guns go down, pointed at the floor and the closest officer asks him if he has any weapons. He says, no, and lets the officers lead him outside.

  “How are you tonight? You been drinking?”

  “No. Well yes. I had a beer with dinner but that’s it.”

  “Anything in the room that we should know about?”

  “No. Just my friend. My friend is in there, and he’s not breathing. I don’t know what happened. I just woke up and he was there. And he was cold.”

  “Okay, man. Calm down. We’ve got officers checking the room and we’ll get your friend some help.”

  “Help? Help? He’s cold! He’s gone! He’s dead!”

  “Okay, okay. Just calm down okay.”

  An officer walks out of the hotel room and signals to his partner. “Okay, why don’t you talk to my partner, here, and we’ll get this all straightened out.”

  “Okay.”

  Another officer approaches him and asks him again if he had been drinking.

  “No, sir. I had one beer hours ago. I am not drunk; I just want my friend to be okay.”

  “Okay, I understand. But we need you to calm down so you can tell us what happened.”

  “Nothing happened! That’s what I’m trying to tell you, sir! I came back, I went to sleep, and I woke up next to a dead body.”

  “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking or doing any other type of drug?”

  “No! No, I haven’t, sir! I am one hundred percent sober. I am. I promise!”

  “Okay, let me explain something to you. There is no body in that room. We searched the whole thing. Do you think maybe you had a nightmare? Trust me, it happens.”

  “No! My friend is in there! And he’s dead! He isn’t breathing! His skin is cold!”

  “Why don’t you walk inside here with me, kid. I know you’re a little shaken up, but you need to see this.”

  Duncan thought of refusing, but decided against it knowing that there were police involved. He was guided, slowly, through the wide array of officers to the entrance of the hotel room. Once there, the officer leading him tried to give him a little shove of encouragement to enter the room, but Duncan would not budge until he saw that someone else had entered. The officer had holstered his gun and walked in unarmed and unafraid. He walked into the room with his arms held out at his sides, as if to say, this is all there is. Duncan saw the gesture and stepped through the threshold, shaking, for fear of seeing O’Reilly dead on the bed.

  When he did finally step in, he looked at the bed and saw only a lump in the bed sheets. He looked to the officer, then back to the bed where he could almost see the shape of a body lying there. Taking a deep breath, Duncan approached the bed. He stood over it for a moment or two before taking any action.

  Finally, he reached out and touched two fingers to the covers. Before pulling them back, he looked up at the police officer watching him and the man gave him a slight nod. He pulled back the covers expecting to see a cold, dead body staring up at him, and instead, he saw nothing. Absolutely nothing. The bed was empty. Duncan stood frozen, staring at the spot on the bed where he was sure his friend had just been.

  Duncan looked up at the police officer standing in his room. His face crinkled and he began to cry. He could not understand where the body had gone. But he knew somehow that it had to do with the thing that possessed him. He thought for a moment to explain to the officer what was happening inside of his body, but he knew that he could not do that without sounding even more insane than he already was.

  The officer walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulde
r. “I think you may have had a bad dream, kid. How do you feel now? Are you okay to stay here on your own tonight?”

  “Yes,” Duncan croaked, “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But I swear he was right there.”

  “It’s okay. You just need to get yourself some rest, alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. I need some sleep. I’ll be okay. Thank you, sir, for coming.”

  “Just doing my job, kid.”

  Then the officer exited the room and had a quick conversation with his partner before they, and the rest of the officers, departed. Duncan stood in the middle of his room contemplating. He was still afraid and he knew that O'Reilly was in fact dead, but he knew not what to do now that the police had come and gone. He stared at the bed for a few moments then thought about possibly taking another bath to relax. But he knew he could not do that, he could not calm down, he could not figure out what to do. So he stood there in the middle of the room and cried. He cried harder than he thought he ever had before his life. He tried to speak to the demon within him. He tried to ask him why, and what happened. He looked for help, for some type of guidance, but his demon was satiated and quiet.

  Chapter 13

  He did not want to be at the hotel anymore. He wanted to leave and to do something to keep his mind and body occupied. But still, he did not know what it was he would do. Though he had no money he knew that he could do whatever he wanted for free, but after seeing his friend cold and dead nothing appealed to him.

  Duncan grew tired of standing in the middle of the room and walked over to the office. Ringing the bell obnoxiously, he waited for the owner to come out and curse him. After about five minutes of waiting, he picked up the bell and tossed it at the door behind the counter. Still, there was no answer so he wandered, slowly, back to his room.