Victor was sitting cross legged on the floor, not thinking, not recalling. His eyes were closed. The TV flickered in the corner- some reality show about people trying to survive without clothes.
Victor did not watch the TV, his eyes were closed. His brain was silent.
He was still sitting there, four hours later, when he heard a sound. An unfamiliar, unnerving sound. Tires crunching dirt beneath their weight.
A shiver ran down his spine. He thought, suddenly, of the girl.
She had promised not to tell.
She had promised not to tell.
He reached into his coat pocket, and grabbed his light. He always kept it with him. A sphere, hand sized. He lifted it, and held it in front of him, staring at it with wonder. So light. So blue. So bright. He ran his thumb along the iris. He had not know that eyes could get so blue. Like the light shining through the ocean.
There were three sharp raps at the door.
"Open up! It's the police!" a loud, demanding voice boomed. "Mr. Victor, we have a warrant out for your arrest!"
Victor stumbled to his feet, heart racing. Adrenaline filled his entire body, in a way that no other emotion he had felt since his rebirth. He grabbed his wrist, feeling the blood moving fast beneath the surface.
Victor made his way to the panel in the wall. He didn't bother closing it behind him, in too much of a hurry.
He was thinking about the bodies.
Two decomposing bodies.
The first had been an accident. He had never meant to kill her. But the man behind him, his boss, his god, had kept taunting him. Persuading him. Her neck had snapped so easily.
The second victim was the electrician who stopped by the diner often to watch football with his friends. He laughed the loudest.
Victor called him and told him he had an electrical problem. His boss was there again, telling him to cut the power. So he did. His house was pitch black when the man arrived.
Stabbing him was harder than he thought it would be. It took a lot of upper body strength to penetrate through skin and muscle. And it was far from a clean kill. But it sufficed.
When Victor reached the basement, his boss was leaning causually against the table covered in supplies in the corner.
His boss was a young man, with slick black hair. All of his clothing was black- so black it seemed to absorb colors. The same blackness that occured when Victor had cut the power in his house. Lightless. The man wore sunglasses, and a calm, clinical smile.
"Victor," he said, the smile widening.
The front door was kicked open with a resounding BANG. Victor felt a strange mixture of anxious and calm, like this wasn't happening to him, but someone on his TV.
"You have lost, Victor," the main murmured. He sounded disappointed. No. He sounded angry.
"I-I'm sorry boss," Victor said, staring at his bare feet.
"I told you not to let that girl go, Victor," the man said. Now, he sounded...taunting.
"Save me boss," Victor pleaded. He heard feet on the stairway.
"You're dead, Victor," the man said coldly.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot. And Victor was down. His head was burning.
The man knelt beside him, and removed his glasses. And suddenly, there was color.
His eyes were fire. Red and orange and yelllow and blue.
He pressed his lips to Victor's.
Victor's soul left his body.
Victor's soul ceased to exist.
The man smiled. Cold. Clinical. He breezed by the police, right in between to of them. They were examining the bodies. Calling for backup.
None of them saw the man with the fire for eyes.
None of them saw anything, really.
YOU ARE READING
Malefica
Genç Kurgu"Can't you see...it's this town...there's something wrong with it. It's like a poison, and once it gets inside of you...you're gone...it takes all of the good, and twists and twists until there's nothing left. It's this town." Malefica, to...
