Read Most of Me Online

Authors: Mark Lumby

Most of Me (6 page)

BOOK: Most of Me
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“Amazing.” I threw my head back in disbelief. “You might think you have me, but I’ll fight you!” I warned him, and prodded his chest.

He shook his head at me. “If you don't carry on where I left off, then they’ll be no running from it! It will hunt you down and stay with you until the very end.”

“But you said no evil could leave this house. So how could anything come after me?”

Carl laughed, “If there isn't a guardian, the door is open to them. They’re free to leave, but would be very limited. And they
will
come for you. You can run. They will find you. They will torture your body, corrupt your mind. They will take over your free will.”

“And what about you,” I asked him.

“Depending on what you decide, if you stay, I will leave. This is your house now…”

“I told you, I don’t want it!”

“…like I said…this is your house now, and your curse. It will change you. You will forget who you are. You will become absorbed by the very evil that lingers between these walls. And you
will
enjoy it. As did I.” The old man simply turned and walked away. “Evil is here to protect and destroy. I choose to protect.”

I glanced into the hallway and saw him disappear into the basement.

Then he shouted, “Perceptions of fate and destiny help mankind feel comfortable and secure, Daniel. But you should feel anything but secure. You should feel afraid!”

I took a deep breathe of freedom, and although as dramatic a word that was, I truly felt as though I had escaped from something bad. I left the house behind, leaving the door open. I glanced over my shoulder and wondered if I should just sell the house. But for the moment I was relieved to leave it behind.

Just as I was about to climb into the car, I looked at the house. In its window I saw someone that was totally impossible to see. I saw myself, pale and gaunt, expressionless. These soulless eyes stared right back at me. I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I turned but there was nobody there. I looked back at myself and there was the old man, my grandad, standing behind me with his hand on my shoulder. And beside him, I saw the boy I had known. It was Jack.

I was distracted by the front door slamming and then one by one the windows shattered into pieces. When I looked back at the final window to smash, they had gone. But strangely, a part of me felt missing, too, as though a piece of my soul was in that house.

I drove back to the apartment, hoping to make some sense out of this. I passed the office building where I’d collected the keys and deeds for the house. The building was boarded up, and by the obsolete posters and graffiti on the outside, had appeared abandoned for some time.

I pulled over and I checked my pocket. I was sure I had left the keys in the front door of the house, but they were in my trousers, digging into my thigh as a reminder of the house. I wondered if he’d put them there as a warning that there was no escape. I wound down the window and threw them onto the street.
I wasn’t going back there. My destiny is what I make of it.
I took once last look at the office building before pushing down the accelerator.

When I arrived home, I lobbed the car keys in the fruit bowl and made myself a drink. There was a knock at the door. I checked the spy hole. It was Ben.

“Hows things?” I asked. I really didn’t want to talk. I was tired and just wanted the lay down my head.

“Things are good,” he said. “But I was thinking, we need to go for a drink sometime.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s been a while.”

“How you holding up? I mean, your Mom gone and everything.”

It was a reasonable question; no harm in it. But for some reason, I just stared at him as though he’d said something to offend. I didn’t answer the question. I said, “How’s your Mom?” I sneered. I knew what I was doing, but I couldn’t help myself.

Ben frowned, looked down the corridor, then back at me. He shrugged. “Why?”

“Just wondered.” There was a pause. Then I distracted him by saying, “so…that drink?”

“No…wait…why you asking about my Mom?” said Ben.

“Well,” I taunted, “I just wondered; does she get much?”

“Much? Of what?” he asked.

“Oh, come on, Ben. You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I don’t.” But I think he did.

I laughed and said, “Dick! Does she get much dick?” I didn’t know why I was saying it; I only knew that I liked it. It was arousing. I wiped a trickle of saliva from the corner of my mouth.


What?
” He took a step back, pursing his lips.

I just grinned at him, licking my teeth and lips. I stepped closer to him. I was in the corridor and looked both ways, not because I didn’t want anyone to hear, but because I wanted someone to be passing at that particular time. “Well, you be sure to send her this way. She must be a bit dried up down there. How about I wet it for her?”

“Dan?” A disbelief took hold of Ben. He shook his head. “
What the hells wrong with you!
” he shouted. He was about to take a step towards me, but I got closer to him first forcing him back against the wall of the corridor.

I laughed, chuckling at first, then getting louder. I put my hand in between his legs and squeezed. “Or maybe you’re already onto that. Are you seeing to her, Ben?
Are you making her wet!
” I breathed at him.

Ben pushed me away. I knew he wanted to beat me…why wouldn’t he. But he didn’t. “You need help…you’re crazy!” He went back to his apartment, hitting the walls and shouting before slamming the door.

I was still laughing, and couldn’t stop. I called, “
Why don't you wet it for her! You know she’d like that!
” I went back into my apartment and shut the door.

And then the laughter stopped as if a switch had been flicked.

What the hells wrong with you! What did I say that for!

I rubbed my face, confused and angry with my actions, why I had said those things. That wasn’t me. I went over to the couch and sat there, thinking.

I should go and apologise. Thats what I should do. But not yet; not right now. First thing I’ll go. I’ll let things calm down first.

I knew that when tomorrow came forgiveness wouldn’t be rewarded so easily…if at all. But that was another day to worry about. I brain had been drained for the day. I fell asleep clothed. The night was humid so I was sticky with sweat. A cat searching a trash can disturbed me. I went over to the window, pushing it open. The air was cool as it dried the sweat off my face. Then there was a thump at the door, and several more followed. Someone was screaming at the other side of the door.


Dan!
” He cried. “Get your damn ass out here.” He sounded drunk.

I checked the clocked. 3:25am.

“Hey, Ben. About last night,” I called out. It was a slow pace to the door; I didn’t particularly want to open it. I knew it was Ben, but I peered through the spy hole anyway. He looked agitated, as though he’d been thinking about this moment over and over. His face was clammy, speckled with blood. “You okay, Ben?” Given the circumstances, I knew that he wasn’t. I carefully opened the door, placing my foot behind as a precaution.

“Yeah! Why shouldn’t it be?” His voice was uneven. Something wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense.

“You hurt?” I said, noticing blood on his pale blue shirt. “I’m sorry about last night. I…I don’t know what happened.”

“Forget about it,” he waved as if by swatting a fly. “We’ve been friends too long to worry about that.” Ben pushed the door with his hand; the other hand was behind his back. “Why don’t you let me in? I just want to talk…nothing bad…its all cool.”

I hesitated, searching for something to say. “Its all cool?”

“Yeah…sure it is. You’re my bud. We’re like brothers. Yeah, thats it…brother from a different mother,” he laughed. “So why don’t you open the door?”

“I don’t know,” I said, because I didn’t really know what to say.

“You don’t know!” He pushed again at the door. “Just let me in, Dan. I just want to talk about tomorrow night.”

“Why…whats happening tomorrow night?”

“Our little party, bro…the drink we’re going to have.”

“Tomorrow? Was it planned?” I questioned him.

“Tomorrow…next week. Does it matter? We just need to get out.”

“Listen…its passed three in the morning,” I informed him. He didn’t answer back. “I told you, I’m real sorry about what I said.” I peered through the hole again. He was still there.

He muttered, “I know you are. He stared back at me through the hole as though he could see me. “Listen…trust me. I don’t want to argue. Just open the door.” He did sound sincere.

I breathed deeply, then removed my foot from the door. I stepped back and waited. But there was nothing. “Ben?” No answer. I opened the door and he wasn’t there. I glanced down the corridor to his apartment. There was a trail of blood on the floor leading from my door and disappearing into his. I quickly grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and followed the trail. His door was ajar as if by invitation. I pushed it open with the tip of the knife.

The apartment was in darkness. On the right was the door to the kitchen. The left was the bathroom. Further down on the right was the living room, which accommodated most of the area. And on the left were two bedrooms. The layout was the same all throughout the complex.

The window was open; I could feel a soft breeze tunnelling down the hallway from the living room. The curtains weren’t closed, though; moon light shone through. There was just enough illumination to make out the silhouette of a figure. Ben was standing in the living room. I think he had his back turned from me. I couldn’t tell. I knocked.

“Ben? What’s up? You wanted to talk, but you went.”

He shuffled to the side. But he said nothing.

I could make out a second shape, on the carpet. “What’s happening, Ben?” I urged him. I stepped inside and moved for the light.

He shuffled around to look at me. He was slow and clumsy as if he had ankles tied, but they weren’t. His feet were bare and soaked with blood. His arm was by his side, holding a knife. Ben’s Mom lay on the carpet. Her throat had been cut. “This is all
your
fault!” Ben accused. “
Your fault!
” He was crying and his chin was wet with spit.

“I don’t understand, Ben. Why would you do this?” I said, taking another step. I kept my knife hidden.

“What you going to do with that, Dan?” he mocked.

I revealed the weapon that I thought was concealed well. I looked at my knife and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think I need it?”

He smirked and leaned his head to the side. He looked at his knife as though he was questioning what it was. He studied it, testing the red tainted blade with his thumb. Ben uttered, “Probably.” Then he raised the blade to his throat. “Probably not,” he concluded, and split his flesh like slicing raw meat, drowning his shirt in blood. He fell heavily to the floor, landing next to his Mom.

It took me a while to realise someone was behind me. For now, though, I didn’t dare turn. I knew exactly how this looked, although my knife wasn’t dripping crimson. But when I did confront the person behind me, I was not prepared for what I saw.

He
was watching over my shoulder. He had seen the bodies and then turned to me, eventually smiling. “Looks as though I missed the party,” Carl Winters said.

I couldn’t talk, and I felt my gripped on the knife getting tighter.

“The cat got it…your tongue?”

I nodded back at the bodies. “This wasn’t me,” I assured him, and pointed to the corpses with the knife.

“Sure it wasn’t,” he mocked, eyes focused on the weapon. It was covered in blood, from tip to handle. Red wrapped around my arm like veins. This wasn’t my knife. I glanced over at Ben’s corpse. His instrument of suicide had gone.

I looked back at Carl. “No…really. He did it, then killed himself. Thats how it was.”

“And thats why you have the knife?” he sneered.

Then I thought about what was happening, what had happened. I was struggling to process everything. I barged passed him and looked down the corridor. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember, boy. Remember what I told you. I have you now. I really do…I wasn’t fooling around.” He gave a grin that was both sinister and cunning. He nodded towards the bodies. “They’re going to think you did it, you know. That you killed them.”

“But I didn’t,” I said. “But you already know that.”

“Do I? Do I really, Daniel?” He rubbed his stubble, looking at the bodies and then at me. He sucked in through his teeth and said, “Oh, I think that you did,” he leered. “I think that Ben went out for a few drinks, and you came over here, and you
fucked
her. Then you killed her, and
fucked
her again. I think that Ben came home and he caught you. He went for you, but the demon in you was too strong, Daniel. You pulled the knife and sliced his throat.” He shook his head as though he was mocking me. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Daniel…please, please do. Because I don’t like to be wrong. And I think on this occasion also,” he stared right into me, his eyes piecing into mine, “I’m not wrong.”

I stared at him, swallowing hard. He knew that I hadn’t killed them.
The old bastard knew!

“I did warn you, Daniel. I said they would come for you. Obviously you thought I was joking.”

“I didn’t do this! I couldn’t have; its not me!”
And he knew I hadn’t.

He said, “you are not you anymore. You might not have done this, but your body did!”

My grip on the weapon tightened and I thrust myself on him, holding the knife to his throat. I can only imagine what he saw in my eyes. Whatever craziness he was witnessing, he enjoyed it.

“Do it, Daniel,” he urged. “
Do it!”

BOOK: Most of Me
12.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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