by Lewis Wolfe
“No, no. I don’t care about that. Did you just suggest to me that Specimen #8 could read my mind from halfway across the country?”
“She told me this not five minutes ago,” Agent Bradford said.
“Amazing! How spectacular! I honestly had no idea she had grown this capable.”
“Dr. Greer! She is attacking me! She’s taunting me!”
“To do what, Agent Bradford?” Dr. Greer asked.
“To get the backup team here!”
A quick pause snuck into their conversation. It came from the old doctor’s patient contemplation that no man had ever been able to hurry. Agent Bradford knew better than to try.
Finally Dr. Greer spoke. “Why do you think she wants to face off with the backup team?”
“She’s mad! Her ego has exploded! She thinks she’s all-powerful!”
Dr. Greer’s snickering filled the special agent’s ear. That vile, mocking sound felt even worse than Jane Elring’s voice inside his head.
“Oh my,” Dr. Greer said. “So it has come to this. The great escape!”
“I won’t let her escape! What’s the alternative, the backup team doesn’t come?”
“No, no…. Specimen #8 has forced our hand. We can’t not send the team, and we can’t send the team. An intriguing problem she has created for us, no?”
Agent Bradford was far from intrigued. He was angry, humiliated and, though he would never admit it, he was very afraid of the small monster holed up in the Toaves mansion.
“Dr. Greer? What do you want to do now?” he asked.
“There is only one thing we can do. We must trust in the system that we put into place. I will call the backup team. They will arrive at your location in half an hour. You will go in, find her, and push the button. Bring her back to me in one piece, if you can. If you can’t, you put her body on ice and call me right away.”
“Alright, Dr. Greer. I will stay put and wait for the team to arrive.”
“You do that, Agent Bradford. Good luck to you. I have a sense that you will need it.”
Dr. Greer’s laughter bellowed from the special agent’s phone.
“Amazing. Truly amazing! Across half the country! What a marvel have I created!”
Agent Bradford couldn’t listen to the insanity anymore. The madness, the ego that refused to implode on itself, it assaulted his senses in ways Jane Elring never had. With a few jerky moves he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket.
The conversation had drained him and he made a vow to himself. This was his last job. He would be done after this one. He’d take the little bitch down. He’d fuck her up good. Agent Bradford would save his country from the terrible monstrosity hiding inside the Toaves mansion.
And then… he’d go home, fuck Becky until they were both sore, and focus his attention on his children. They had to be saved from the monstrosity that was his country now.
6
Jane Elring stood in the middle of the office, watching Arthur as the old man collected the final sheet of paper from his printer. His tired hands gathered the newly created documents and placed them in a small stack.
Arthur walked back to his desk and sat down. He looked for the pen he couldn’t find.
Jane said, “It’s in the top left drawer. You put it there yesterday.”
“Oh! That’s right!”
Jane watched as Arthur opened the drawer and dug out his pen. He would need it to sign the will he had spent the last hour typing up. Arthur Toaves knew that he was going to die and he knew that Jane Elring was going to kill him. It made her very sad.
Arthur began to scribble his signature underneath each sheet. When he reached the end of the stack he looked up at Jane.
“Are you certain you don’t want some help? You could use the money once you go on the run. It doesn’t have to be traceable,” he offered.
Jane brushed his concerns aside. “No. Really, I couldn’t. How could I?”
“I hold no ill will against you, Jane. You have done right by Ellie, and you are doing right by Brettville. If an old man has to die to stop this madness, that is not your fault, is it?”
Jane shook her head. If only it were that simple. If only she were the good person Arthur Toaves believed she was. Jane knew she was a manipulator, a trickster, a liar. To also take the old man’s money? That would just be in poor taste, adding insult to injury.
“No, Arthur. You do with that money what needs doing. I will be fine,” she said firmly.
Would she be fine? Jane Elring, who knew everything about everybody, had never been so unsure in her entire life.
Downstairs, an emotionally crippled, overweight, retired black ops soldier waited for the elite team that was coming to get her within the next half hour. Before that team arrived, she had to delve into Arthur’s mind and tear out an ancient demon that wouldn’t exactly go willingly. As her reward for that, she got to kill an old man she respected and electrical currents would run through her spine.
Arthur asked, “Are you frightened, Jane?”
“I am.”
“I’m afraid too,” the old man confessed. “I’ve made some peace with my death, but I can’t come to terms with the idea of not being. Not existing.”
“I know you don’t believe in the afterlife, Arthur. I wish I could say something to make it easier for you.”
The old man gently shook his head before signing the final sheet of paper on his desk. Carefully he placed it on the bottom of the stack. Then, he looked up at Jane and she didn’t have to read his mind to sense his fear.
“Will you help Ellie, Jane? She will blame herself again for all of this, I think.”
“Ellie will be fine. I promise.” Jane said it without knowing if it was true. She said it to put his mind at ease, she told herself. Maybe she only said it because that would make her job easier.
“Are you ready then, Arthur?”
The old man tried to force out a smile, only to have it turn into a ghastly grimace that summarized the situation perfectly. He was going to die, very soon, by the hands of a psychic detective who wanted to pull an ancient demon from his head. Yesterday life had still seemed somewhat normal.
“Do you want to do it in your chair?” Jane asked. Then she gestured to the green sofa that stood against the left wall of the office. “Or over there maybe? What’s most comfortable?”
Arthur took a deep sigh before he said, “No. In the chair. I’d like to watch out of my window as I go. I want to see the waving pines and the green fields around my mansion. Maybe the horses are still out? Ellie loves the horses.”
Without a word Jane walked over to the old man and rolled the office chair toward the window. Through it came a few modest rays of sunlight, understated as if they knew what was going to happen. As if they wanted to grant a sense of warmth to this very cold situation.
“Is this okay, Arthur?” she asked.
“This is perfect. Thank you, Jane. For everything.”
Jane shook her head, knowing that the old man couldn’t see her. Once she started this final act there was no going back.
“Will it hurt, Jane?”
“No. Not at all, Arthur. It will be like falling asleep. You’ll dream for a little bit… they’ll be nice dreams… and then it just ends.”
The old man said nothing.
“Arthur? Why don’t you tell me about one of your favorite memories? As a child, maybe, or when you were in college?”
It was the kindest way she could do this, Jane thought. To have him drift off amidst the ocean of one final, pleasant memory. To make his last moment one of silent and peaceful reflection.
A silent fear dominated Arthur’s throat and there was so much sadness and regret inside of him. He hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t done enough. There were still years that he had expected to fill out. Plans to be seen to fruition. He didn’t think he had the voice to tell Jane anything.
“Just that one final memory, Arthur….” Jane’s voice broke through the dark clo
uds inside the old man’s head. “Do you remember Suzy?”
Arthur remembered Suzy. Her pale skin and dark hair. Her soft touch. Her wet lips. As a young man he had discovered entire worlds with her, without them ever leaving the bedroom.
“Tell me about Suzy, Arthur.”
Arthur could smell Suzy. He could feel her now sitting on his lap, whispering naughty words in his ear. The world around him didn’t exist anymore. His world was Suzy now. Her hair. Her face. Her neck. Her breasts. Her small belly button. Her vagina. Her ass. Her legs. Her feet. Her toes. Her shadow.
The last thing Arthur saw before he closed his eyes was the painting that surrounded his mansion. The pines that waved their final farewell at him, looking adoringly at the green fields that stretched out against their feet. A single horse galloped through those fields, as if to bid his master a final adieu.
The last thing Arthur heard before he closed his eyes was the beautiful symphony of the October wind rustling through the trees. It was accompanied by birds singing their most precious melodies, reserved only for the worthiest of occasions.
The last thing Arthur felt before he closed his eyes wasn’t the regret or the desperation that came from unfinished plans and desires. It wasn’t the pain of a misspent youth.
Very skillfully Jane avoided all the dark traps people laid down for themselves and gave Arthur only the love that existed for him. It was in abundance, generated by an entire community of misfits and rejects that had been granted that one second chance they needed.
That love, which was most worthy precisely because it was born from loyalty and admiration, filled Arthur Toaves until he couldn’t feel anything anymore.
That was how Arthur Toaves died. Alone, in his office, with a perfect stranger that was killing him. Not alone, comforted by a warmth and love so great that most men had to spend several lifetimes to gather it.
Jane wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. She had just undergone the most devastating five minutes of her life. She had killed the best man she had ever met. Perhaps the only good man she had ever known. It filled her with despair to think how rare such men were and that she had just taken one from a world that needed them the most.
“Come on,” she told herself with a broken voice. “This isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.”
She had separated Baal from Arthur’s mind and taken the life force that kept the old man’s body going. With Arthur Toaves dead, Baal could no longer stay.
Where would he go? The answer was clear to Jane Elring. She had created the extra room for him inside her mental house. Now she only had to drag him in there.
Jane closed her eyes and forced herself to fall asleep.
Five… four… three… two… one…. Goodnight….
When she opened her eyes again she was in the darkness of her mental house. Only this time she couldn’t afford to be blind to what was going on inside. Turning on the light meant seeing everything. All her thoughts, all her feelings, all her fears and anxieties and regrets and sadness. All her trauma—she had a lot of it—would attack her on sight.
Jane took a deep breath, found the switch, and flicked it on. A blinding white light coursed through the enormous house that was Jane’s mind. Deafening screams filled her ears and yelled the ugliest things to her.
She was an Ugly, Evil Freak. A Fatherless, and Motherless, Science Experiment! She was Unworthy of Love! Her Tiny Body was Dysfunctional! No Man would ever Want her! No Society would ever Accept her! She deserved to Die, Die, Die!
Jane’s eyes adjusted to the light. Her ears grew accustomed to the noise. She knew the voice that screamed out to her. It wasn’t some evil, alien force assaulting her. No, the voice was her own.These were the things she believed about herself. The things that she had learned through her childhood of lab experiments, of being treated like a tool, of receiving no love.
Jane ignored the messages that looped through her head the best she could and stepped outside. She walked into the vast darkness surrounding her house and looked around. He had to be close to her; there was no way he could leave that quickly.
Her ears caught him before her eyes ever could. Subtle footsteps echoed rapidly through the darkness. He was running. Running away from her. Away from her house. Where was he, exactly? Jane focused her mind to the extreme as she tried to locate him.
When she found him she gave pursuit. In the real world her small body was a useless distraction. She was ugly, clumsy, and incapable. In here, in her world, she was very strong, and very fast. In here her abilities would never betray her.
Jane ran into the darkness as she listened for the footsteps. She knew exactly where they came from and, more importantly, she was gaining on them.
The light of her mental house served as an uncomfortable beacon, a necessary evil that showed her the way back. The way back through the impenetrable darkness into a damaging light that would only hurt her.
Jane ran and ran until, in the distance, she saw the silver skin of the gorgeous Baal. It reflected, impossibly, in the darkness that surrounded him as if he were made from precious diamond stones.
“Baal! Stop running and face me!” she yelled.
Baal stopped in his tracks and turned around. He gave her an eager smile and waved at her, the same as he had done when they first met.
“You make good on your promises, Jane Elring,” the demon taunted from afar. “You said it would end before the month was up and here we are!”
“Yes, Baal. Here we are.”
Jane stopped running and slowly walked toward the demon that stood waiting for her.
When she came closer she realized for the first time how impossibly tall he was. She had to stretch her neck just to get a glimpse of his stunning face.
“So now what, Jane Elring? What is the next part of your diabolic plan? Who do we kill next? I’m up for some killing!
“Shall we take on the frustrated Larry Bradford? Or maybe something tastier? Ellie Aulding was quite good, I will have you know. I kind of resented you for that one….”
Jane stood silently as the stunning man’s voice sang the vilest things to her. It spoke of death and torture, yet it sounded like the most beautiful song she had ever heard.
“We’re not killing anybody,” Jane said as her dark eyes tried to reach a face that hovered high above her own. “The killing is done. You’re done.”
With a taunting grin Baal whispered, “I’ll never be done, Jane Elring. Not now, not in another thousand years. So go home before it is too late. If you’re not careful I might just start dining on you….”
Jane’s stare was cold and calculating. She knew what an enormous ego looked like. She had seen it in Dr. Greer and she saw it now, exponentially larger, in the demonic presence in front of her. And that was her chance.
“You really think you could consume me, Baal? I don’t think you can….”
“No?”
“No. You feed on the bottom of the barrel. Victims of child abuse. Delinquents. No shit you can defeat the feebleminded. Who fucking can’t?”
“You are delightful indeed,” Baal said as the grin started to fade from his face.
“Am I? You looking for excuses, Baal? I’m standing right here and I want to fight!”
It was now that the mocking demon became cold as ice. His grin had vanished; his eyes were suddenly made of stone. A freezing aura emanated from his beautiful body as he stepped toward her.
“You want to fight me? A challenge then? Yes, I am curious to see how far we can take this.”
Jane waited two seconds and then, when she realized Baal would never make the first move, she spat in his face. The large glob of saliva flew through the dark sky and reached the lower part of his cheek.
“Fuck you, Baal! What are you waiting for?!”
Without a word Baal launched forward and Jane ran. She ran like the wind back to the light coming from her mental house.
Baal’s roar echoed through the darkness. “Running now, a
re we?! Regretting our arrogance, yes?! It is too late now, Jane Elring! It is too late now!”
Jane didn’t have to look back. She knew that the proud and arrogant Baal was giving chase. He was blind now to the risks that she posed. Or, perhaps, he just didn’t believe there was anything in this world or the next that could harm him. Perhaps he just saw a little girl running for her life after enraging the bull. After playing with the unquenchable fire.
Jane ran until she reached her mental house. The light burned her skin but she couldn’t hesitate.
She stepped into the doorway and turned around to see where Baal was. When she saw him appear in the near distance she turned and ran inside. Up the stairs, toward the new room that she had created just for this moment.
She ignored the screams that echoed through the house. She ran through the self-hatred and focused her mind away from all the images in her house that reminded her of how bad and dangerous she was.
Am I dangerous? Good! Let me be dangerous. Let me be so fucking dangerous that I can even beat a demon!
“Jaaaaannneeeeee?! Where are you, Jane?!” Baal’s voice boomed through the house.
“Right here, motherfucker!”
Jane stood next to the door of the room she had built for Baal. It was the biggest, toughest door she had ever created. It was made of fortified steel and not even man’s terrible atomic bomb would ever be able to rupture it.
She pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside the room. Its emptiness felt so intoxicating that she almost became dizzy. There was no air, no light, no sound. There was only the absolute nothingness that came with Jane’s heavy burden.
Jane waited in the darkness until Baal approached. She watched him step inside the room and look around.
Again she was tempted by the gorgeous man’s physique. Maybe they could stay in this darkness together. Maybe she could finally feel somebody pressed close against her. A warm body to hold, to connect with. He would consume her, but perhaps that was a fair price to pay for the intimacy she feared she would otherwise never receive.
No. That wasn’t the solution. Deep down inside Jane knew it wasn’t the solution. If she had to go through life afraid and alone, then so be it. She had not killed Arthur Toaves only to fall victim to this terrible force of destruction now.