{X}erosis

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"He promised."

She doesn't respond. Her eyes are shut. Wisps of fragile hair sweep down into her face. I use the back of a shaking hand to push them behind her ear. I lean down and kiss a dry cheek. "He promised," I repeat softly. "He promised."

The tears are coming now.

There's a knock at the door. Two raps and a drag of knuckles. His knock. My hips hurt as I stand, knees creak and groan, untreated arthritis twisting my joints into gnarled limbs. I pull the blanket up to her chin and kiss her forehead. Another trio of knocks. I turn and walk across the short room. He knocks again just as I reach the door.

"Hold on," I say and steady myself. "I can only move so fast."

There's a sigh on the other side. I can practically hear him smiling. The deadbolt swings beneath my thumb and the knob twists. I trip over my own feet as the old inn door swings inwards. He doesn't enter, just stands there with his hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted in that irritatingly crooked studious pose. One swollen cloud slinks in front of the late day sun and casts everything into a grey haze.

"Well," he says. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

I pull a sleeve across my face to blot the tears, and steal a glance towards the bed. "What if I don't?" I ask.

"Ah," he laughs. "Someone has found bravery in their old age." He winks. Gooseflesh ripples across my back. "But, if we're being completely honest, and that's what friends do, right, Ian?" He leans on the word friends. "Then it doesn't matter at all whether you invite me in or not, because..." I blink and he's gone. The grey parking lot with its broken asphalt and dying weeds stares back at me. And then I feel his breath on my neck. "Because I'm already inside."

I turn on a heel. Bright shards of pain crack in my hips. His face is inches from mine. The stench of iron and dirt overwhelm me. He's smiling that awful smile. Cracks and caverns line the corners of his face in arced ridges that cap with engorged chunks of flesh. He sucks on his teeth, and then turns away from me.

"How is she feeling? She looks to be perking up a bit." He nudges her shoulder with a long finger. It takes all my willpower not to reach out and pull his arm away.

"It didn't work," I say. "You promised. I did exactly as you said and it didn't work, and you promised!"

He's leaning over her now, looking into her closed eyes. "She's rather dry, don't you think?" He laughs and presses a finger into her forehead. I hear a faint cracking sound.

"Stop it!" I scream and he turns on me. The same finger he pressed into my wife's head is pushing me back across the room.

"You did not finish the job." The smile widens. "You don't get your prize until you finish the job." Spit like acid sprays my face.

"I.. I don't understand," I stammer. My heels hit the side wall and a flailing arm slaps on the tv. A reporter spinning a story about a mother and son poisoning cuts away to a commercial and then disappears completely as the power cord is ripped from the wall.

"What do you not understand?" he sneers. "You do not get your reward until the task is done."

"But it is done! I did everything you asked! I ruined my own life, I lost my house, my son... he saw... he helped... and now," I point towards the bed. "You promised!"

He laughs again. Tears well up in old eyes and I blink them away. "Age," he says, turning back towards the door. "Is something you and I both have in common." My knees wobble as the adrenaline works its way out of my blood. "I'd have you guess how old I am, but I'm afraid we don't have time for that at the moment." He puts his ear to the door. "Maybe later. Probably never."

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