“And the other one,” I said.
He sobbed from his knees, and blood, slobber, and tears dripped onto the coffee table. The knife was still in his hands.
“Please, please no,” he begged.
“You have three seconds. Two one,” I said. He glanced once more at Aden, who had his eyes shut and his ears covered, then plunged the knife into his right eye. Deep, on the first try. He dropped the knife on the glass of the coffee table. He curled up and cried and screamed in pain.
“Let him go,” I commanded of my shadow. It looked down at the boy and saw that it remained gripping him. The look on its face did not mimic my rage. It had a look of compassion as it held the boy, “I said, let him go.”
It released him and he made his way into his mother’s lap, crying hysterically. All of them were crying and shouting and terrified. It was everything I had always wanted. I stepped into the garage and grabbed the box with my great-grandmother’s journals and returned inside to the hysterical crying and screaming. I gathered the remainder of my things to leave and headed for the door.
I glanced down at Cindy, as she held her son. She glared up at me with hatred. I had a lingering temptation to apologize but the words escaped me.
“You’re worse than him,” she said with pure hatred.
I heard glass shatter and began to awaken. I was still in the doctor’s office, soaking in the tub and listening to their consultation in mummers. The words slowly began to fall into place as I regained consciousness.
“Something’s not right,” the doctor said.
“What do you mean? Did it work or not?”
“It worked. . . It worked perfectly. Here’s what you’re looking for,” he handed Franklin a Post-it.
“Of course,” he said, as he read it. “You can understand how this might not be ideal?”
“There were no other options, and that will give the desired effect every single time.”
“Good, so what was the problem?”
“She’s missing something, something in her past. I’d like to do more tests.”
“What do you mean, ‘missing something’?”
“I mean, there are gaps in her memory of traumatic events that should be there.”
“How do you know?”
“The first person she killed, she couldn’t give me a reason for.”
“So she lied?”
“It’s not impossible, but highly unlikely.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s virtually impossible to lie when the drug takes effect. There would be clear signs of resistance, and perhaps she could manage one lie, but not several.”
“Maybe she didn’t have a reason; maybe she’s just a sociopath. I mean, you heard what she did to that guy. She’s completely sadistic, in the most perfect way imaginable, she’s exactly what I need. Possibly too perfect.”
“An answer for that would have been more along the lines of ‘I felt like it’ or ‘I just did’, she clearly said she didn’t know. When I asked her about the accident, she said she didn’t know who she was with. That information should be easily accessible. Her mind seemed to detour away from those memories. I would assume amnesia, but as you’ve said, her body heals naturally and immediately.”
“So why is this a problem for me?”
“It makes her unpredictable. Your weapon could turn on you.”
“Weapon?” I asked, interjecting into the conversation. Both of them glanced my way.
“That’s right, Danielle —” Franklin began.
“You might feel a little unusual for a day or so, the medicine can take time to wear off. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to visit with you again.”
“I don’t mind. What did you do to me?”
“We’re hopeful that we have, for the most part, isolated your ‘shadow’, as you call it.”
I glanced toward the mirror and noticed the mirror had shattered.
“How?” I replied, suspiciously.
“We determined your strongest trigger and contained that correlation.”
“I don’t understand, what trigger?”
“While she’s restrained, Franklin, do you care to do the honors?”
“I’d love to,” Franklin said, positioning himself in front of me, and crossing his hands, “Christian.”
The world faded into a haze of red, then black. A direct strain of consciousness evaded me. I was thrown into a high adrenaline, rage of chaos. I had embodied my shadow. The desire for death and destruction consumed me. I looked at Franklin and the doctor as they stood in front of me in admiration. Their voices were a hollow echo, I watched their life force pulsating under their skin, as small white wisps clinging to their physical bodies, a smoky hue around them. I attempted to get up from my seat to have a taste of the life that trembled just below the surface, but I felt the binding still wrapped around me and struggled to free myself. My anger at my confinement began to produce heat.
“Holy fuck!” I heard a voice echo.
The wraps began to slowly melt away and I freed myself as darted across the room toward the doctor.
“Give her a minute.” Echoed Franklin’s voice.
I ran my hand close to the doctor’s shoulder, as he stood tense and motionless. I ran my fingers through the smoky essence radiating from him. As my hand caressed his soul, I began to absorb it. An ultimate high began pulsing through my blood stream. I touched him and absorbed more of him. It was like trying to stop eating the perfect meal on the brink of starvation. I could not stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to consume all of it, as much as possible, everyone. I grabbed harder, and I took more and more. I felt Franklin’s hand pull me back. I reacted to this unwelcome gesture by shoving Franklin back with a great deal of force that hit him hard across the chest.
“Stop!”
Color returned to the room immediately. My sick desire disintegrated. I was standing above the doctor, who was now down on his knees, trying to steady himself. I tried to help him up, but he put
