Roberts looked at his friend in shock. Questions about the astral plane meant he was stumbling down the bramble-ridden path of the occult. Still, coming from Alan it must be important.

“I know enough to not get involved, but since you’re the one asking, I guess we can head down that road a little bit.”

“I’ve been working on a case lately. I can’t really go into … oh forget it. I’m not supposed to go into details, but I know you won’t betray my confidence.”

The minister was suddenly uncomfortable in his chair. His friend was breaking police confidentiality rules here. It must be important. At the same time, he suddenly wished he was somewhere else. That Alan would turn to someone else for such deep advice. Still, he was here, and he cared a great deal for Alan. Uncomfortable or not, he would help him in any way he could.

“We’d been tracking a pair of killers for some time now. Their M.O. was to case another couple, befriend them, case the inside of their house, then attack in a moment of weakness and kidnap the wife, almost always setting the husband up to take the fall. They’d torture and brutally murder her somewhere nearby by far enough away to avoid suspicion. Lastly, they’d make sure they’d chosen a place rigged for demolition so the city would cover their tracks. In reality, almost the perfect crime.

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Richard was troubled. He’d fallen into a dark place and, like a child stranded at the bottom of a well, knew not how to save himself. He clawed in vain at the walls of his prison and wept openly when he realized how utterly lost and desolate he was. Until moments ago, his soul had been, for the most part, smooth and clear. Like any man his age, there were a few blemishes. He consoled himself with the belief that no one could live a completely blemish-free life.

A lie to his father about who’d broken a window here. A neglected dinner appointment there. Over time, Richard had built up more than a few dark acts on the rap sheet of his conscience, but they were nothing compared with what had happened. In a moment of passion, he’d opened his palette to a darkness so consuming that he’d lost his sense of right and wrong. In a moment, his conscience was completely squelched by his thirst for vengeance.

He’d reached out and ended the life of another. He’d thought himself God and taken a life as his own. Even as the last flicker of life had begun to fade in the other, he’d tried to take it back. Just as Richard had willed the man dead, he tried to will him back to life. His memories flashed back to a childhood friend’s broken arm and how he’d tried to will it back to some semblance of whole.

“It’ll be OK. Just don’t tell your Mom.”

In the here and now he had done more than just harm another, though. He’d wholly and completely destroyed them. Consumed their body with fire and ended its ability to go on living. As a last act of selflessness he’d opened himself. Trying to take back the act and unwittingly opening his own body as a host for the other’s cast aside soul.

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Richard went home and sat in his living room. It was only 6 o’clock, but he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He thought for a minute about turning on the TV. He almost made it as far as to pick up the remote, but deep down he didn’t want to watch specials about the horrors of humanity tonight. He was already inside his own little horror show, he didn’t need speculating journalists to seed his already tormented imagination.

No, what Richard needed to finish today was a drink.

A lot of drinks.

He carefully removed his car keys from his key ring and tossed them on the bed. Then he pulled on a heavier coat to fight the cold that was sure to come later that night and walked the three blocks to the bus stop in front of the supermarket. Richard was going to get wasted. He knew this, and he was sure his car would thank him for this much foresight.

His head, knowing a heavy hangover was more than a sure thing, wouldn’t be so lucky.

Richard’s usual bar was only a few bus stops down, sharing a parking lot with a dog groomer, a hair salon, a FedEx Express – what a stupid name. FedEx is already short for express! – and an Americanized-Mexican restaurant that served fries with its tacos. It was an odd assortment of businesses, but Richard knew the bar was of fair quality. Read the rest of this story »