The Cursed Man

                                                                                    Chapter 1

                                                                               FINAL STRAW

The past.

Alister stood over his wife's lifeless body. "You've gotten them all, are you happy?" he said.

She was on the bathroom floor, lying on her back, her wide and accusing eyes were focused on him. The water that overflowed from the bathtub soaked the jeans and turtleneck sweater she wore, and they clung to her body in a farewell embrace. A razorblade that glimmered in the thick blood that painted the floor around her body held his attention.

"You bastard."

He kicked the razorblade away and fell to his knees with clenched fists.

"Oh, Sharon, please don't look at me like that." He brushed her eyelids closed. A slash of pain in the pit of his stomach doubled him over and he vomited next to her body.

"I'm sorry."

He wiped his chin and looked to words written on the wall, scribbled with a finger dipped in blood. "I saw it."

He pounded his fists against the tile until flesh ripped and bone bruised. Panting like a wild animal, he glanced around the room.

"I know you're in here! Why don't you show yourself, you coward?"

The spout in the bathtub dripped and drew his attention. He shuddered at what he saw and quickly looked away. "You've crossed the line this time. Do you hear me? You've crossed the line!"

He looked at Sharon and lowered his nose to her hair in search of the familiar scent of her shampoo. He reared away, surprised by the musty stench of stagnant water mixed with blood.

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and noticed both vertical and horizontal cuts on her wrists. The lacerations were deep and jagged.

"Oh Sharon, what did it make you do?"

Leaning his back against the toilet, he pulled Sharon's limp body into his lap. Water and blood that dripped from her clothes soaked his legs and he focused on her face. Her purple lips were parted ever so slightly and invited one final kiss.

He tongued the cold sting the kiss left on his mouth and rocked her gently. He looked over his shoulder. "You couldn't leave them alone, could you?"

Laughter, elusive and taunting, sent a shiver up his spine. He clamped his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his ears.

"Stop it! I've had enough of you! Do you hear me? Enough of you!"

He scanned the room and slowly took his hands away.

Silence.

He lowered his wife to the floor and straightened her limbs. He neatened her wrinkled clothes and ran taut fingers through her tangled hair. "I know how you need to look presentable."

He stood and stared at the wall as he walked to the bathtub. Pulling a deep breath, he tried to control his shaking limbs and fight the swirl of pain that ripped at his insides.

Looking into the bathwater, his one-year-old daughter float face down. Her naked, plump body had turned a sick shade of purple, and her short blonde hair reached out in all directions as if in a desperate attempt to grab onto something.

"Becca, no!"

He gasped and held the edge of the tub to keep from falling.

"What have you done to them?"

He scooped her out of the water and held her tight, kissed her icy cheek and squeezed her.

"Blame me for this, not your mother. It wasn't her doing."

He wiped her body clean and dry, and then wrapped her in a towel. Then he placed her next to her mother and left the bathroom, and walked out of the house.

The past.

Alister lay prone in the path of a distant vehicle that approached rapidly. The vision of his dead wife and child seared inside his minds eye had filled him with such agony that he had become desperate to escape it.

"Please," he said, and watched the vehicle approach. "Let this end here. I can't take anymore."

It was headed straight for him.

"You know I won't let you die," a voice said. It was so loud and clear that it had to come from his mind.

"But why?" Alister said.

"Because you invited me inside and it is my right."

"It was a mistake. And I can't live with what I just saw!"

"It doesn't matter, I won't let you go."

"Why do I concern myself with the things you say? You're a thing from my imagination and I'm through with you."

The sound of tires screeching pulled Alister from his reverie, and he watched as the tire stopped less than a foot away from his face. Gravel in the tread and wear that exposed the steel belt was easy to see. The smell of burnt rubber disguised the stench of death that soaked his clothing. And the heat that emanated from the engine was like the breath of a savage animal that stood over him.

"Do you still believe I am inside your mind?"

The driver of the vehicle jumped out of his car and ran to Alister's side. "Are you okay?"

Alister closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

The man hovered over Alister, unsure what to do. "I didn't see you until the last second. I could've killed you!"

Alister felt the dull thump of his own heart. "I can only wish."

"Where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere."

"You're covered in blood." The man's hands continued to drift over Alister, but he didn't touch. "Try not to move."

"It's not my blood," Alister said. He didn't look at the man's face because it would be another to haunt his dreams.

"I'm going to call for help."

"No, don't."

The man paused.

"My wife and daughter," Alister said.

"What?" The man moved his ear close to Alister's lips.

"They're dead." He raised an unsteady hand and extended a finger. "They are over there."

"Where?" The man looked in the direction Alister pointed toward. Houses, one after the other, all looked the same. "Which one?"

"It doesn't matter, you should go before it's too late."

The man stood. "I'm calling the police." He pulled a phone from his pocket and quickly dialed. He lifted the phone to his ear and grunted.

"No, not again!" Alister said and sat up. He watched the man drop to his knees and clutch his chest. The man flopped forward, and the cell phone clattered across the pavement.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

**The Cursed Man has been published and is available on Amazon**

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