Jon Merz - Vicarious

He fell asleep.

When the first images zipped across his mind, his conscious self simply chalked it up as a dream.

But he knew better.

Darius’ face loomed before him. The quiet and mocking smile, brilliant white teeth, the salt-and-pepper hair.

“So you think you know me?”

The voice echoed inside his head. To anyone watching Curran while he slept, they would have simply assumed he’d entered REM sleep by the fast action of his eyes beneath their lids.

But Curran wasn’t dreaming.

Darius regarded him. “You’ve spent years of your life tracking me, haven’t you? And it must seem like such an eternity. All those cities. All those bodies. And yet you never figured it out.” He smiled again.

Curran wanted to talk to him. But he found he had no voice here in this limbo-like existence. Darius laughed. “You know, come tomorrow, part of you will argue this is simply a dream. That it’s simply some type of mental conjuration you’ve built up by being so involved with this case for so many years. The inevitable result, as it were, of your rather obsessive compulsive personality.”

Darius’ disembodied face zoomed closer. His voice grew soft. “But you’ll know better. Won’t you? You’ll know deep down inside that we did really communicate tonight. And my presence only serves to confirm that which you are so unsure about."

He backed off. “Your friend.” His eyes closed. “Lauren. She’s fascinating. Have you ever known someone who could be so ruined by evil and yet emerge so wonderfully clean and good?”

He laughed. “I have walked this Earth for thousands upon thousands of years and never seen such an example of good. In truth, I am disgusted by it. But there is reason enough for such a woman to exist. One which will become obvious to you soon enough.”

Curran’s mind fought to speak. Slowly, painfully, he squeezed out the words: “ Leave…her…alone !”

Darius’ laugh filled his head. “You really care for this woman, don’t you, detective? How utterly amusing. What is she to you? Have you found a woman who can finally stand your presence?”

His head zipped around the ethereal air in Curran’s mind. “You know how long I’ve watched you, Curran? You know how long? Ever since you first became aware of me. No, not since you learned it was really me as the man Darius. But ever since you started investigating the bodies I left behind. I’ve watched. Waited. And when my travels eventually directed me here to this pathetic town in which you’ve tried so hard to reconstruct a life, I felt joyous. At last. I knew we would meet. It was inevitable.”

Curran’s mind swam against the tide of images rushing at him. His arms felt like leaden weights had been poured into them.

Must…fight.

“It’s no use trying to do that,” said Darius. “You’re well outmatched in this arena. Of course, that’s what happens when your faith suffers as yours has. When you only rely on your conscious mind — when your only tool is logic — your only reward is a mere fraction of reality.”

Take me instead.

Darius regarded him. “You? You?” He laughed. “A silly suggestion at best and a stupid one at worst. You have no idea what purpose she plays in all of this. But you will. And you could never take her place. You’re two different people. Each one with their own destiny.” Darius’ face zoomed close again. “Would you like a glimpse of your own destiny, Curran? Would you?”

Before he could think about answering, Darius’ face changed. Gone were the white teeth and brilliant smile. In their place, long yellow fangs dripping with bloody gore. Long streaks of coarse black hair streamed out of a thorny skull, surrounded by greenish blackish skin that undulated in gross tidal waves of musculature.

Curran felt his stomach heave.

A new voice spoke now. “You see? While you’ve imagined me as one thing, you’ve been hunting another. And now that you know, it’s too late for you to do anything. And yet you still haven’t seen the end of this.”

The demon pulled back and Curran could see the rest of its body. Two arms that hung down close to its three-toed feet dangled like lethal pendulums, each topped with six claws that scraped across the floor of Curran’s skull.

It sounded like fingernails down the chalkboard.

“When I come for you, Curran, it will not be the same death as the others. You I will take the greatest joy in destroying. I will feast on you like I have not quenched my hunger in eons. Your flesh will be my delicacy. Your blood my sweet nectar and I will drink you down with an unyielding thirst. And you will feel every exquisite agonizing sensation as it pulses along your nerve endings.”

Darius morphed back once more into human. “You will sleep now. Come morning you may find you have some memory of this but you will fight it. You will insist that it is just your imagination working hard to process everything you’ve seen and learned.”

He laughed one last time. “Or maybe, just maybe, you will be brave enough to let your instincts decide your destiny this once. Are you that brave, Curran? Are you brave enough to come for me when every reflex you own screams at you to run and hide?”

He smirked. “Sleep now. Our time together will come soon enough. And I am looking forward to it. Very much.”

Curran woke the next morning feeling like his head had been used for soccer practice. An unending series of tidal throbs rocked and bucked his senses. He tried to eat breakfast and promptly puked it back up. Bucking his usual trend, he shot down four migraine headache pills, bolted back a half can of Pepsi and then sucked down two cigarettes in short order.

Remarkably, his treatment held. And soon enough the pulsing pain had subsided.

What the hell happened to me last night?

He had vague memories. And somehow he knew Darius figured into it. But not just another weird dream. Not this time. This time something very unusual had happened.

The answer hit him at about the same time as his conscious mind realized the same thing. Darius had opened some sort of link with him.

Great, now he had a telepathic demon haunting him.

If things get any better, he thought, I’ll just die from happiness.

He called Kwon. His friend answered on the fourth ring and Curran could tell he’d woken him up.

“What?”

“I need a favor.”

“I do any more favors for you, Curran, and I’ll be dead. You realize that?”

“It’s an easy favor.”

Kwon sniffed and cleared his throat. “Famous last words. What the hell time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Sick. You are a sick bastard. I haven’t even had a proper cup of coffee yet and here you are ringing me up for favors.” He sighed.

“Can you sit on top of our new friend for a while today?”

“What — you got a hot date?”

Curran smiled. Right. Not this time. “I’ve got some things to do.”

“Oh sure and I’ll just set the fridge down at the office to freeze so none of my corpses start to thaw and stink the joint up. How’d that be?”

“I need someone on Darius all day. I need to know where he is at all times.”

“Why?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t ask.”

Kwon paused as if debating whether to do so anyway. Curran bit his lip. Not now, pal, he pleaded. Just do this one thing for me.

Kwon sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I can park down at his store. That be okay?”

“Great. Call me on the cell if he leaves there, okay?”

“Yeah. When you need me down there?”

“Sooner the better. Parking fills up fast on Beacon Hill and I want you in an advantageous position.”

“My definition of an advantageous position is being the only man in a room filled with uninhibited nurses.”