THE DARK DESCENT VOLUME I: WHAT VENGEANCE COMES

AN ENEMY IN THE DARK

1

TWELVE HOURS LATER . . .

Gary Bellman held the phone to his ear, his heart pounding. Had he heard that right? No. It couldn’t be.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"I said, Mister, I killed your wife," the voice replied, cold and distant over the crackling static. "Made her eat her own tongue, cut her throat, left her broken. But—no, you wouldn’t want to hear it—unless, of course, you would."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Oh, it's too grim. But then, weren’t you the one who wanted her out of the picture?" The voice taunted, unrelenting.

"Tell me! Just tell me what you did to her! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY FUCKING WIFE!?"

"Found the slut alone, then I... well, let’s just say she’ll never be found the same."

"Why?! Why would you do this?!"

"You tell me, Gary. Go on, take a guess."

Gary's hands were slick with sweat, the phone trembling against his ear. His mind raced, struggling to make sense of what he was hearing. Twelve hours ago, his wife was at home. Twelve hours ago, he’d left for a business trip. And now…

"Who are you?" he whispered, almost too afraid to ask.

The voice on the other end chuckled, a low, mocking sound that made Gary's skin crawl.

"Oh, I’m just someone who’s been watching. Someone who knows things about you, Gary. Things you probably don’t want the world to know. Things she knew.”

Gary felt a jolt, like the room had tilted around him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” the voice sneered. “I know all about that nice little double life you’ve been running. So did she.”

A sharp intake of breath. This was impossible. He’d been careful—every precaution, every secret locked down tight. But the stranger’s tone told him he wasn’t bluffing.

“Why…” Gary’s voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his throat tight. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you deserve to know what it’s like to lose control. To feel helpless. It’s funny, isn’t it? You’re so used to being the one with power. Now look at you—just another man broken by his own arrogance.”

Gary could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, drowning out the static on the line. He thought about hanging up, about slamming the phone down and running to the police. But something kept him frozen in place, the terrible, creeping suspicion that this man knew him too well. That maybe he’d thought of everything.

“I’m coming for you next, Gary. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, when you think you’re safe—when you think you’ve buried this all behind you.”

Silence. The line went dead, leaving Gary alone in the empty room, clutching the phone like a lifeline.

It was only when he looked down at his hand, trembling uncontrollably, that he realized he’d bitten his own lip hard enough to draw blood.

"MOTHER FUCKER!"

PRESENT

1

GARY Bellman held the phone to his ears. Had he heard what he thought he had heard? No. Can’t possibly be…
“The hell did you say?” He asked shakily.
“Iiii sssaaaiiiddd, Mmmiiisssttteeerrr, Iii mmmaaannnssslllaaauuuggghhhttteeerrreeeddd yyyooouuurrr sssllluuuttt ooofff aaa wwwiiifffeee, Gggaaarrryyy,” the voice said over the crackling of static. “Iii hhhaaannndddfffeeeddd hhheeerrr hhheeerrr ooowwwnnn tttooonnnggguuueee sssllliiittt hhheeerrr pppeeerrrtttyyy ttthhhrrroooaaattt, cccuuuttt hhheeerrr fffaaaccceee oofff, eeevvveeennn, aaannnddd hhheeerrr ppprrreeetttyyy llliiitttllleee fffiiinnngggeeerrrsss, tttooo. Thhheeennn --- ooohhh nnnooo, yyyooouuu wwwooouuullldddnnn’ttt wwwaaannnttt --- ooohhh, bbbuuuttt wwwhhhaaattt iiifff hhheee dddiiiddd?”
“What if I want what?!”
“Ooohhh, iiiittt'sss tttooo hhhhhooorrriiibbbllleee tttoo hhheeeaaarrr, gggiiivvveeennn yyyooouuu wwwaaannnttteeeddd ttthhheee llliiitttllleee bbbiiitttccchhh dddeeeaaaddd,” the voice replied.
“TELL ME! TELL ME! ANSWER ME, GOD DAMNED YOU!? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY WIFE?”
“I drowned her in dry ice in the public restroom, you cunt. Then I broke her face into smithereens. What did you think I did? I like playing dirty. Brutal, even. In fact, I love it.”
Gary's hands trembled, gripping the phone so hard his knuckles turned white. His mind whirled in a sickening, surreal horror. He could barely process what he was hearing. Every word slithered into his brain like poison.
"Who... who the hell are you?" he forced out, barely holding back the bile rising in his throat.
"Aw, you don't recognize me, Gary?" The voice crackled with a gleeful malice. "Oh, you know me. Think back—back to the days when you weren't the boring, washed-up man you are now. You remember... don't you?"
Gary's pulse pounded in his ears. His mind scrambled through old memories, blurred faces, distant grudges. Whoever was on the other end of that line seemed to revel in his confusion.
"Just tell me who you are, you sick bastard!"
The voice chuckled, a dark, oily laugh that made Gary’s skin crawl. "Doesn’t matter who I am, Gary. What matters is what I’m going to do next. See, your wife was just the beginning. I’m coming for you next. And let me tell you, I've got plans for every inch of that sad little life of yours."
Gary's throat went dry. He wanted to scream, to throw the phone across the room, but something held him rooted in place.
The voice continued, "I’m everywhere, Gary. And every night, when you close your eyes, I’ll be there, watching you. Waiting."
He felt paralyzed with rage and terror. "You think you're some big shot? Hiding behind your phone, spewing threats? Show yourself if you’ve got the guts!"
"Oh, don't worry. I will. Sooner than you think." The voice paused, the silence stretching unbearably. Then, with a hiss that sounded far too close, it added, "Goodnight, Gary. Sweet dreams."
The line went dead. Gary stood there, phone still pressed to his ear, listening to the hollow silence, feeling like he’d been marked by something unspeakable, something that would haunt him until it got what it wanted.

2