The Third Parent

by Elias Witherow

  A scream rose in my throat as I lunged forward, “NO! NO, NO, PLEASE, LIZ!” Her body hit the floor and blood poured from the hole in her skull. I fell next to her, holding her, begging, weeping, crying. I lifted her against me, taking her face in my hands.

  “Oh no, please don’t leave me!” I sobbed, shaking her,.“Wake up, please, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, PLEASE!”

  Blood gushed over my hands as I stared down into her lifeless eyes.

  “FUCK!” I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut, shoulders shaking with grief. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

  Mason, face full of worried concern, walked into the kitchen. As his eyes fell upon his mother, he broke down. He ran to her, his little legs carrying him with terrified urgency. He slumped next to me, his chubby fingers running over his dead mother’s face.

  “Ma?” he cried, eyes wide. “Ma? Ma? Wake up! Wake up! It’s not time for sleep!”

  “Jesus Christ,” I cried, “Oh Jesus Christ, stop this…” I reached out and pulled Mason away, his hands already dripping with blood. “Go back into the living room!” I ordered, vision blurring, voice cracking,

  “Please, go back into the living room, Mason!”

  But he just stared at Liz, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He kept looking at me and then back at her, confused, scared, and unsure.

  “What happened here?”

  I turned at the voice and saw Tommy standing in the doorway with bags of groceries in hand. He looked hard at me, his eyes sparking and spitting blue.

  “Jack?” Tommy asked calmly, “Did you do this?”

  “You motherfucker,” I snarled, a sudden white-hot fury exploding in my chest, “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

  Screaming with primal rage and roaring anger, I grabbed the gun from Liz’s motionless hand and charged Tommy. I plowed into him with all the force I had and we went tumbling out the door and down the front steps.

  I heard him grunt as his head struck the concrete and the weight of my body came crashing down on top of him.

  “YOU GODLESS FUCKING MONSTER!” I bellowed, fire and spit blasting from my lungs. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HER!?”

  Lost in a hurricane of violence, I smashed my face into Tommy’s, crunching my forehead into his eyes. I heard him exhale as the blow connected.

  Without pausing, I shoved the pistol into his mouth. I pulled the trigger once, twice, and didn’t stop until the clip went dry.

  Tommy’s head rocked back with every explosion, a jolt shuddering through his body. Time seemed to slow and spin around us, the deafening report of the pistol ringing in my ears.

  I looked down at my victim, panting as gun smoke filtered the air above us.

  “Hehehehe…”

  An icicle formed along my spine.

  Tommy looked up at me, smiling, his eyes clear and shining brightly. “Are you done, Jack?”

  I scrambled off him, suddenly terrified. He wasn’t dead. Of course he wasn’t dead. I got to my hands and knees and then stood in the night, backing away from him.

  Tommy crawled to his feet and rubbed his jaw. “Get your bag from the trunk and go inside, Jack. Take Mason and go into the bedroom. I’ll deal with you later. These groceries need to be put away before they go bad.” He looked at my stunned face and blue flared from his eyes. “Unless there’s anything else you wanted to say?”

  I shook my head, panting, suddenly very afraid. I forced myself to move. I retrieved my bag of clothes from the car and hurried inside. I picked up Mason and practically ran for the bedroom.

  “Shit, shit, oh shit…” I whispered, a sinking weight lowering deep onto my gut.

  I closed the bedroom door and locked it. I tossed my bag onto the bed and then crawled up next to it.

  “What have I done…?” I cried into the dark room. Mason’s little hands groped for me and I held him close. He rested his head on my shoulder and I could hear him crying quietly.

  “It’s over,” I said miserably, sobbing.

  Chapter 11

  I didn’t sleep that night. I stretched out on the bed, bloodshot eyes staring up at the blank ceiling. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I cried silently. Mason was curled up next to me, nestled gently into my arm. His little chest rose and fell with slumber I could only fantasize about.

  Jason was dead.

  Liz was dead.

  And Dad…oh Christ…

  No matter how much I tried to escape the misery, it just seemed to fall heavier upon me as the night went on. I couldn’t shake Jason’s screams as he burned alive nor the look on Liz’s face seconds before she shot herself in the head. The blood…there had been so much blood…everywhere, on everything…

  My mother kept calling me, completely unaware of the situation I was trapped in. Or did she know? Had my father said something to her, given her a clue before his abrupt death? No…not death…suicide. I closed my eyes, dripping with grief. I thought back on our conversation in the city at the cafe. I should have known then that he couldn’t handle any more. I knew he carried Katie’s death around with him in ways I could only imagine. It was the wrinkles on his face, the twist of his lips, the sadness buried so deep behind his eyes.

  And I had called him and asked for help, knowing the symptoms were there. I squeezed my fists together and hated myself in the most depraved ways. So much loss…how was anyone supposed to bear it all?

  I looked down at Mason and felt a rise in my chest. Would he even remember his mother? How drastically had his young life been altered tonight? What was I supposed to do with him? What were we supposed to do now?

  Jason’s howls re-entered my fractured, exhausted mind and I exhaled shakily. My friend—my only friend—gone. Taken away in a violent, horrific act. And again…I hated myself. I had brought him back into this nightmare, extended my hand and he had taken it, following me back into the darkness of our childhood.

  “This can’t go on…” I whispered, bleary-eyed and alone. I could feel the isolation, the emptiness of my situation swirling around me like a blizzard of helpless fear.

  I checked the door from my place on the bed. It remained closed and locked from the inside. I could hear Tommy moving throughout the house…opening doors…shifting furniture…dragging…something…across the floor. Deep into the night, the house went silent and I wondered if he had left. But where would he go? Was he simply sitting in the kitchen, waiting for me to open the door?

  He’s letting me digest all this, I thought, if he really wanted to, he would come in.

  That did nothing to comfort me, knowing that I was still caught in Tommy’s web, his plan…whatever the fuck that was.

  At four, Mason stirred at my side. I gently scooted his head up on my shoulder and stared down into his peaceful face. So innocent. I couldn’t even imagine the horror his young mind was trying to make of all this. What would he remember? What would stand out? The gunshot? His mother’s lifeless eyes staring back up at him? The blood staining his hands?

  I started to cry again, unable to stop myself.

  “Dad’s here,” I whispered. “Dad’s here little man…I won’t leave you again…I promise.” I gently kissed the top of his head and felt something change inside of me. It was a warmth, a loving warmth that slowly spread across my chest. This little person was depending on me. He needed me in the most basic of ways. I was now completely and solely in charge of his care, safety, and upbringing.

  The thought terrified me. But it also gave me strength. I had to be someone. I had to be a father. His father. I didn’t know how, but looking into his peaceful face, I felt myself hardening. I would be whatever he needed me to be. And I would take care of him to the best of my ability. We were going to get out of this nightmare. Together.

  Suddenly, I felt the door handle rattle. I stiffened at the sound and I went on full alert, head whipping toward the door.

  Tommy’s muffled voice came to me from the other side. “Still need some time, Jack?” A pause, waiting, then: “I understand. Take as much time as you need. I’ll b
e here when you’re ready.”

  My heart pounded in the darkness. Don’t come in…please don’t come in here…

  “I’m leaving you some food by the door. Mason is going to get hungry and he’s going to need to eat. Again, I understand if you don’t want to come out for a little while. We’ve all had a traumatic experience tonight.”

  Leave me alone…please…

  “I’ve taken the necessary precautions with the bodies,” Tommy continued from the other side of the door. “We won’t have to worry about the police snooping around if it comes to that.” A pause. “You’re welcome.” And then he was leaving, back down the hall.

  I needed to do something. I needed to take advantage of this silence.

  I needed to talk to Rez.

  I carefully slid Mason from my arm, knelt by the bed, and unzipped my duffel bag. Quietly, I dug out the headphones and held them up.

  “Please be there,” I whispered.

  I went to the far corner of the room and sat down on the floor, opposite the door. Slowly, I lowered the headphones over my ears.

  “Rez?”

  The familiar buzz of static was almost instant.

  “Jack…I’m so sorry.”

  I sat for a moment, letting that sink in.

  “Rez…we have to end this. Please…help me…”

  Rez’s voice was soft. “I’m almost ready, Jack. If you can just make it through the day then I think tonight is the night.”

  “What are we waiting for?” I whispered, voice weak and impatient.

  “Because, Jack, I need to come to you. I need to be there. And that is going to take a tremendous amount of energy. The energy I have been absorbing from the cosmos for decades now. I’ve been preparing for this day for years, dating back to that first phone call I made to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, trying to piece things together. “What is it exactly you have to do? Why do you have to be here with me?”

  Rez’s voice became heavy, almost tragic. “Because, Jack…the only way to kill Tommy Taffy…the only hope we have of stopping him…is if he watches me die.”

  My eyes grew wide. “What…?”

  “In order for you to understand exactly what it is you’re going to have to do…you need to understand what Tommy is.”

  I waited, the night frozen around me, “Yes…”

  Rez gathered himself and then spoke, his voice careful and deliberate. “Tommy Taffy is a dream.”

  I squinted in the darkness and pressed the headphones tight against my head. “A…dream?”

  “Yes…he’s my dream.”

  “Rez,” I whispered, “I don’t understand.”

  “When I found Earth and began watching you, watching the way humanity behaved, interacted, cared, and loved for one another…I was fascinated. I studied the way you worked, the way you lived, the way you formed relationships and developed bonds.

  And Jack…I wanted that. I wanted that so badly. I had spent eons in isolation wondering if there was anything out there. You humans…you showed me a world I had been searching for my whole existence and I lusted after that. So…I began to dream. At first, it was harmless fantasy, an otherworldly desire that helped ease my loneliness. But the more I watched, the more I craved. I wanted to be one of you. I wanted to speak with you. I wanted to know what it was like to laugh, to have a friend, to fall in love. It became an obsession, a driving urge that I couldn’t ignore any longer.”

  “Jesus, Rez,” I breathed, eyes wide in the dark of the room.

  “And so…I began to dream. Not like you humans do…no…this was something different. Something more powerful. Something real. I channeled what I saw into energy and life. I wanted to create a vessel in which I could finally descend to you. But such a massive creation is not conjured so easily. I spent centuries trying to form a perfect host and failed hundreds and hundreds of times.”

  Rez paused, and then whispered, “To be more exact, I failed sixty-sixty thousand three hundred and fifty-seven times.”

  I blinked and then felt an onslaught of dizziness. “Oh my god…six-six-three-five-eight…”

  “Yes, Jack…he was my last dream. The one that worked.”

  I exhaled shakily, mind collapsing.

  “But I made a mistake. a horrible, terrible mistake. With each failed attempt, I thought I was discarding the previous effort, the previous dream, and focusing my energy on a new creation. But…that wasn’t the case.”

  “I don’t understand,” I murmured.

  “Jack…the reason Tommy acts the way he does is because I was layering my dreams on top of one another. Instead of starting fresh, I was compounding my creations, unaware of what I was doing. And with each attempt, with each dream cycle I channeled, I would change and tweak little things that I had learned about you. About life on Earth.”

  “So…?” I breathed, trying to wrap my head around everything.

  “So, when the final dream emerged from my consciousness, it held the previous sixty-six thousand three hundred and fifty-seven versions of itself as well.”

  “Wait a second,” I stammered, pulse roaring, “does that mean…”

  “Yes, Jack…if Tommy realized it, he could create sixty-six thousand three hundred and fifty-eight versions of himself here on Earth.”

  I slumped against the wall, face growing pale. “Oh my God…”

  “When the final dream was birthed, I grew very, very tired. I floated in a state of…well, I believe you would describe it as sleep. When I awoke, the dream had vanished. Panicked, I thought I had lost it, absorbed into the universe. But when I turned my gaze back to Earth…I saw him. I saw him in your neighborhoods, in your homes…I saw him with your children. The dream had abandoned me.”

  “Rez…I…Jesus Christ.”

  Rez continued, “When I saw what he was doing…how he behaved…I was terrified. It was wrong—so, so wrong. What I didn’t understand, what I didn’t realize during the final dream, the one that birthed Tommy…was that in its perfection, I had made him not merely a vessel but a living, breathing entity. One that mirrored humanity almost immaculately. But there were flaws—and not just with his physical appearance.

  During the early days of my dreaming, I didn’t understand humanity. You were so…violent and cruel to one another. The wars…the slaughter…the genocide. I thought maybe that was just part of your existence. And so I dreamed versions of Tommy that replicated that behavior. Hundreds of them.”

  Sweat ran down my face in streaks and I licked it from my lips. “And those versions compounded into the final cycle.”

  “Yes. A flaw in my design. A terrible, murderous flaw.”

  I sat up and checked to make sure Mason was still asleep before asking in a hushed voice, “Is that why he is the way he is?”

  “Yes. But he has all the qualities of a good person in him, as well. You see, in my later attempts, I began to see the good rise out of the hearts of humans. My viewpoint began to change and alter, as did my dreams. Tommy has the capacity to love, to teach, and care for others. But those good characteristics are buried beneath countless versions bred with violence. He is constantly at war with himself, fighting internally with which version he is. He’s completely unaware that such a battle is taking place, but surely you’ve seen it.”

  I rested my head against the wall, closing my eyes, and focused on breathing.

  The lessons…the constant insistence that we need to be good people…

  …Katie’s death…

  “Rez,” I said quietly, “there’s something I still don’t understand.”

  “What is it, Jack?”

  “Why families? Why does he…infect our homes? Why does he stay with us? Why is he so infatuated with children?”

  “I’m afraid that stems from my own curiosity. You see, when I first started watching Earth from the shadows of space, it was the concept of family that intrigued me the most. How two people could fall in love, bond with one another, and then create life. I wante
d that more than anything. And that became the base of my dream. To raise versions of myself, to teach them, to love them, to show them how to love in the ways you humans do. It was so perfect, so beautiful, that I became lost in the dream.”

  “And it became the base of your desire,” I said quietly.

  “It did. But that fantasy clouded when it came into contact with the previous versions I had envisioned. It wasn’t until Tommy left me that I realized my terrible mistake. The clarity of what I wished was lost beneath the weight of it all. Love…parenting…sex. They became warped and malicious, twisted ideas that became entangled with one another.

  Tommy sees sex as a rite of passage. A doorway into adulthood. He sees it as the end of his work, a compilation of all that has come before. His mind is a grave of dead concepts I thought I had buried. When the child he has worked to raise passes that threshold…he leaves to find another family. At least…that version of him does. I don’t know if he is aware of the extent of his reach just yet. And that is why we need to stop this now. Before his reach grows. Before he starts to invade not just one neighborhood at a time…but two…or three…or perhaps an entire city.”

  “Christ,” I hissed.

  “All he wants is to be a part of your family. He wants to be one of you. He wants to raise you and teach you. He wants to shuttle you into adulthood through one final, disgusting act of sexual depravity. Then, and only then, will he see his purpose fulfilled.”

  “But Rez…he came back,” I whispered. “If what you’re saying is true, why is he BACK?”

  Static buzzed in my ear and then Rez continued, “Because he leeches himself to a family. A bloodline. He wants to see the fruit of his labor. He wants to see the children he raised into adulthood. He wants to see what kind of fathers and mothers they have become. He wants to compare himself to them.”

  “Why…?”

  “Because he wants to be the best he can possibly be, just like I dreamed him. And in his eyes, because of the layers I stacked upon his creation…he truly thinks he is. There’s nothing simple about the way he thinks, Jack. Even during the most chaotic situations, Tommy has calculated every result. He is the most rationally insane being I have ever witnessed.”