Available Darkness: Chapter 39

October 2, 1999
St. Augustine, Florida

The officers could have hit John in the head with a sledgehammer and the ringing in his ears wouldn’t have been any different. He stared in disbelief, his senses on fire.

The photo, it was her, the girl in his dream the past few nights. The girl he had murdered and fed off her life force.

His brain buzzed and stomach churned. Hs heart pounded at three times the beat, rocking something inside him like a raft on a turbulent sea. John thought he could keep it inside. The mask of innocence was warm on his face before he’d even opened the door. The disguise had once been daunting, but it had grown a little less difficult with each day spent burying his curse beneath the facade.

John tried not to stare at the frozen face on the glossy picture, the woman who haunted the blurry frames of his dreams, staring with dead eyes directly through him. The photo threatened to split his mask at the seams and reveal the savage monster that was lying in wait.

“Have you seen her?” Detective Avery repeated.

“Can’t say I have,” John lied, pretending to wipe sleep from his eyes. Hope’s fingernails cut into his flesh as she pulled herself closer to him.

“Her name is Rebecca Ashby, she lives one street over. Went missing two days ago,” Avery said. “We’re asking around to see if anybody’s seen her.”

John shook his head, trying not to oversell his ignorance.

“No,” he turned to Hope, “How about you, honey?”

Hope’s face was a sheet, as though she were the one with something to hide. John’s eyebrows met in confusion, the first honest emotion to crack the surface of his mask.

“No,” Hope shook her head after too long of a pause, “I mean … she looks familiar. Maybe I’ve seen her in the neighborhood, but … no, I don’t think I’ve seen her in the past few days. What happened?”

Avery’s head tilted slightly, as if he were somehow picking up on and trying to process whatever Hope was hiding. John looked at Detective Johnson and felt a slight chill as the officer met his gaze. John glanced back at Avery, as his insides started to stir. A current of energy began to brew in his fingertips as the darkness threatened to rise.

The darkness he had buried for more than two years, the power he thought he’d managed to lock away for good, was right there, ready to explode from his body and annihilate his enemies.

No, not now.

If the darkness broke free, then nobody was safe. If Hope touched him, she would be reduced to ashes.

No, no, no, no.

He closed his eyes and concentrated his breathing.

Slowly … In and out … Focus.

“Her roommate reported her missing, “ Avery said. “Last time anybody saw her was Wednesday night at Harry’s Pub, where she works as a waitress.”

“Ah, that’s where I’ve seen her,” Hope said, “but no, I haven’t seen her recently.”

Avery glanced at her for what seemed an eternity.

The darkness swelled beneath John’s skin, begging for release. Ready at a moment’s notice to strike.

Suddenly, the truth became impossible to ignore. Though John thought he’d buried his curse, it was only dormant, waiting to turn its whisper into a wail. Only it hadn’t been dormant, had it? Not if he had anything to do with this missing woman. And between the blurry map of his dreams and the two officers standing on his front porch, anything outside the obvious seemed highly unlikely.

He’d gone to the bar, spotted her, followed her as she walked home, and then pounced on her, predator to prey. He dragged her into a side street, then into the underbrush where he swallowed every drop of the life inside her. In the dreams that had plagued him in recent nights, flashes of her memories pulsed through his brain. Suddenly, on the doorstep, in front of the questioning police, those memories started to spill into his waking life. And with them, the darkness swelled as he struggled to keep his face a solid, emotionless mask.

“Well, if you remember anything or see her, give me a call, will ya?”

Avery handed Hope his card.

Hope reached out and took it. Her hand was shaking just slightly, John noticed, through the chorus of memories and thoughts flooding his head. He hoped the shake was subtle enough that the cop hadn’t picked up on it.

Apparently, he hadn’t, as he and his partner thanked them for their time, then turned around and left.

“Good luck,” John managed to say as he extinguished the porch light and quietly closed the door.

The darkness receded alongside the messy spill of memories. He drew breath from the deep air of relief, then noticed that Hope was staring at him, her eyes wet.

“She’s the girl,” Hope said.

“What?” John asked.

“In that … painting, with you. She was in the painting. You were floating over her. You had … killed her.”

TO BE CONTINUED…Next Friday.