Лорел Гамильтон - Strange Candy

Tomorrow night was another problem. Jasmine had made her decision; either Lisbeth was “tamed” tonight, or the child would die. There was one more possibility: that Lisbeth would kill her.

The thought flowed over her skin like a cool breeze, tickling the hairs on her arms, sliding down her spine like an ice cube. Fear; it was an old companion. Dr. Cooper wouldn’t know what to do if she wasn’t afraid of her patients.

Jasmine flowed from dream to dream; bright glimpses of color, motion, thoughts, feelings. She pushed forward like a swimmer, concentrating on getting to the other shore. Then it came, terror, it screamed along Jasmine’s nerves, opened her mind, called to her.

She didn’t enter the dream this time, she pushed at it from the outside, shoved the fear aside. Lisbeth’s anger flared over her, but there was nothing for the girl to use to trap Jasmine. Outside of dreams, you were safe. “No, you can’t. You’re afraid of me, like all the others.”

Jasmine smiled. “You made the mistake they all make. Just because I’m afraid of you doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be afraid of me.”

Lisbeth began to gather her forces. Jasmine could feel it, like a thunderstorm building in the distance. She might break the dream, or at least change it. “How would you like to visit one of my patients?”

The girl hesitated, power swirling around her. “Patients?”

Jasmine explained what she did; by the time she finished Lisbeth was smiling, that same angelic twist of perfect lips. Lovely and meaningless as a lifelike doll.

“Would you like to see one of their dreams?”

“Do you mean it?” Lisbeth asked.

“Yes.”

Lisbeth licked her lips, breath easing out. It was almost a lust reaction, anticipatory, and far too old for the child. But then in many ways Lisbeth was no longer a child; she had haunted people’s dreams too long for that. “I’d like that.”

“All right.” Jasmine paused as if thinking. “We’ll visit William. You’ll like William, and I know he’ll get a kick out of you.”

Lisbeth giggled, the first real little-girl sound Jasmine had heard her make.

“I can hold on to you and take you to his dream, if you stop fighting me.”

Lisbeth frowned at that. “What does that mean?”

“Just relax and let me do the work. Be the passenger for once instead of the driver.”

“You promise to take me to this William. Promise I’ll get to see a real killer’s dream.”

“Promise,” Jasmine said.

Lisbeth nodded, and lowered her protection. Jasmine felt Lisbeth’s consciousness slide against hers, almost a faint bump as the child released all control. An adult empath would never have lowered everything, but Lisbeth didn’t have the experience in dealing with people who were her equals. Until now she had had no equal. Ten was still very young.

William was asleep, and he dreamed, as he of ten did, of past glory. He was lying on a twin bed with a little girl. She was wearing blue shorts and a red tank top with cartoon figures on it. Jasmine remembered the clothes from photographs. This was six-year-old Caitlin, and it was William’s version of a wet dream.

Lisbeth sighed. “Oh, this is great.”

The child was crying, saying, “I want to go home now, please.”

“Not yet,” William said, voice soothing, as his hand rubbed the tiny bare leg. “Not yet, soon. If you do everything I say, I’ll take you home.”

“You said there were kittens here. Where are the kittens?”

“I’ll show them to you.”

“I don’t want you to touch me. Don’t!” The child’s fear stabbed outward like her words. A sharp gut-jerking cry.

Lisbeth hovered as close as Jasmine would allow, soaking up the terror. Feeding off the child’s small body. The cries for help, the pleading; Caitlin would ask about the kittens William had promised to show her just seconds before he placed one hand around her slender baby neck and squeezed. He would crush her windpipe. He was a very strong man.

Her small, nude body lay beside the man, dead. Her head was thrown to one side; eyes mercifully closed. She looked like a broken doll, skin perfect and flawless.

Jasmine brought herself and Lisbeth into the dream. The broken little girl vanished, and William was suddenly fully clothed again.

He stared up at her, fear plain on his face, his fear crawling along Jasmine’s body. She enjoyed his fear, enjoyed making him suffer.

Lisbeth said, “He’s afraid of you.”

“I know.”

“I been good,” William said. “I done everything you told me to. Why should I be punished? What’d I do wrong?”

“Oh,” said Lisbeth, “he’s so afraid.” She walked closer to the bed, and he shrank back from her, eyes shifting from Jasmine to this new little girl.

“I’m not here to punish you, William. I want you to help me.”

“Anything, anything you want, Dr. Cooper. You just name it.”

Lisbeth reached for him, and he jerked away as if she had burned him.

“Did you enjoy William’s dream, Lisbeth?”

“Oh, yes, it was great.”

“Would you like to see another?”

Lisbeth turned, eyes shining, genuinely excited. “Oh, please, yes.”

Jasmine nodded. “She’s yours, William.”

“Wh-what!” he gasped.

“It’s the girl that needs punishing, not you. I’m giving her to you.”

“You can’t scare me,” Lisbeth said.

“Is she real?” he asked.

“Very.”

“You think threatening me with him will scare me. It won’t. I can make him disappear.”

“I control this dream, Lisbeth.”

William grabbed her wrist. She turned, completely confident that she would destroy him. Jasmine held William’s mind and protected it.

The first trickle of fear rose out of Lisbeth. Fear for herself. She struggled to get her hand free. “You won’t let him hurt me. You’re not bad. Only bad girls let people get hurt.” The fear was still in check, because she believed what she said. Jasmine was a teacher, a doctor, an adult, and would not really hurt a child.

“I’m not a good girl, Lisbeth, never have been.”

William dragged her against his chest. “NO!” Lisbeth yelled it, anger still stronger than fear. “You can’t scare me. You can’t make me behave. I’m not like the other children.”

“No,” Jasmine said, “you are not, and neither was I.” Jasmine vanished from the dream, leaving Lisbeth to the man’s tender mercies. She did not want to see it happen, but she was drawn to feel it. Fear at last, full-blown and wonderful. Lisbeth terrified. Lisbeth feeling the only thing she could feel, her own pain. Dr. Jasmine Cooper hovered on the edge of the dream and fed off the fear, the lust, the horror. She drank the sweet breath of evil, and it filled her up. Jasmine, like the child, not only was attracted to darkness but fed off it.

She broke the dream before William was finished but long after Lisbeth had begun to cry. Jasmine woke and went down the dark hallways to Lisbeth’s room. She opened the door to find the child gasping and sweat-soaked. She cringed when she saw Jasmine.

“You’re like me, aren’t you? You’re like me.”

“Yes, Lisbeth, I’m like you.” Jasmine sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want to be punished anymore.”

“Then you’ve learned your first lesson. I’ll show you how to stay alive, Lisbeth. They won’t kill you now, not if you let me teach you.” Jasmine leaned close to the child, whispering so the monitor wouldn’t hear her, “I’ll show you how to feed off them, so that they don’t know. You can do what you like with them within limits. You can torture and get paid for it.”

Lisbeth’s breathing had slowed to almost normal. “You are just like me.”