Stories to Keep You Awake at Night

Darkstar part 3

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His​ ​hand​ ​rested​ ​on​ ​the​ ​files​ ​in​ ​the​ ​seat​ ​beside​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​been​ ​on​ ​the​ ​road​ ​for​ ​about​ ​twenty minutes​ ​and​ ​had​ ​twenty​ ​more​ ​before​ ​he​ ​reached​ ​his​ ​destination.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​made​ ​this​ ​trip,​ ​as promised,​ ​every​ ​day.​ ​He​ ​actually​ ​looked​ ​forward​ ​to​ ​the​ ​quiet,​ ​the​ ​peace​ ​that​ ​came​ ​with​ ​talking to​ ​the​ ​boy​ ​who​ ​waited.​ ​Elia’s​ ​condition​ ​was​ ​unchanged.​ ​He​ ​didn’t​ ​even​ ​think​ ​they​ ​were​ ​doing anything​ ​for​ ​him.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​much​ ​as​ ​the​ ​doctor​ ​said:​ ​they​ ​were​ ​trying​ ​to​ ​wait​ ​him​ ​out,​ ​see​ ​if​ ​he would​ ​lose​ ​interest​ ​and​ ​stop​ ​making​ ​the​ ​drive.​ ​That​ ​wasn’t​ ​going​ ​to​ ​happen.​ ​He’d​ ​given​ ​his word.​ ​This​ ​boy​ ​deserved​ ​an​ ​explanation​ ​when​ ​he​ ​woke​ ​up.​ ​This​ ​boy​ ​deserved​ ​to​ ​wake​ ​up. Whomever​ ​they​ ​were,​ ​he​ ​was​ ​not​ ​going​ ​to​ ​allow​ ​them​ ​to​ ​ferret​ ​this​ ​boy​ ​away​ ​and​ ​ensure​ ​those big​ ​blue​ ​eyes​ ​would​ ​never​ ​open​ ​again.​ ​It​ ​wasn’t​ ​going​ ​to​ ​happen.
He​ ​pulled​ ​away​ ​from​ ​a​ ​light​ ​and​ ​sighed.​ ​He​ ​needed​ ​a​ ​lead.​ ​He​ ​needed​ ​more​ ​than​ ​a​ ​name​ ​and smoke.​ ​He​ ​needed​ ​something​ ​substantial​ ​that​ ​he​ ​could​ ​wrap​ ​his​ ​fingers​ ​around.​ ​The​ ​case​ ​ran through​ ​his​ ​mind​ ​over​ ​and​ ​over,​ ​like​ ​a​ ​gruesome​ ​carousel.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​even​ ​more​ ​questions​ ​now,​ ​so many​ ​more​ ​questions.
The​ ​car​ ​passed​ ​below​ ​the​ ​stone​ ​arches,​ ​through​ ​the​ ​iron​ ​gate,​ ​and​ ​pulled​ ​up​ ​to​ ​a​ ​booth​ ​and​ ​a guard​ ​that​ ​had​ ​a​ ​bar​ ​which​ ​blocked​ ​his​ ​path.​ ​He​ ​frowned​ ​as​ ​the​ ​guard​ ​asked​ ​him​ ​for identification​ ​and​ ​then​ ​again​ ​when​ ​it​ ​was​ ​checked​ ​against​ ​a​ ​list.​ ​Why​ ​did​ ​they​ ​do​ ​this​ ​every single​ ​time?​ ​He​ ​had​ ​been​ ​there​ ​every​ ​day.
His​ ​identification​ ​was​ ​returned​ ​and​ ​he​ ​slowly​ ​pulled​ ​through​ ​when​ ​the​ ​guard​ ​cleared​ ​the​ ​way. He​ ​shook​ ​his​ ​head​ ​as​ ​he​ ​collected​ ​the​ ​files​ ​from​ ​the​ ​seat​ ​beside​ ​him.​ ​It​ ​had​ ​been​ ​nearly​ ​a​ ​year and​ ​he​ ​was​ ​still​ ​being​ ​treated​ ​the​ ​same​ ​way​ ​that​ ​he​ ​had​ ​been​ ​the​ ​first​ ​day​ ​he​ ​passed​ ​beneath that​ ​arch.​ ​He​ ​hadn’t​ ​expected​ ​a​ ​warm​ ​welcome​ ​but​ ​he​ ​had​ ​perhaps​ ​expected​ ​a​ ​little​ ​more​ ​than this.​ ​He​ ​was​ ​through​ ​the​ ​doors​ ​and​ ​two​ ​of​ ​the​ ​three​ ​check​ ​points​ ​without​ ​even​ ​thinking.​ ​The only​ ​good​ ​thing​ ​about​ ​this​ ​place​ ​was​ ​the​ ​view​ ​and​ ​the​ ​child​ ​that​ ​waited​ ​for​ ​him.​ ​No​ ​one​ ​could possibly​ ​heal​ ​here.
Another​ ​patient​ ​bumped​ ​into​ ​him​ ​on​ ​their​ ​way​ ​past​ ​and​ ​mumbled​ ​something​ ​unintelligible before​ ​being​ ​collected​ ​by​ ​a​ ​nurse.​ ​He​ ​was​ ​almost​ ​there.​ ​He​ ​rounded​ ​a​ ​corner​ ​and​ ​passed​ ​two closed​ ​doors​ ​before​ ​stopping​ ​in​ ​front​ ​of​ ​the​ ​one​ ​that​ ​was​ ​his​ ​destination.​ ​Maybe​ ​something would​ ​be​ ​different​ ​today.​ ​Maybe​ ​there​ ​would​ ​be​ ​some​ ​sign​ ​that​ ​this​ ​had​ ​all​ ​happened​ ​for​ ​a reason.​ ​He​ ​took​ ​a​ ​breath​ ​and​ ​turned​ ​the​ ​knob,​ ​letting​ ​himself​ ​into​ ​the​ ​room​ ​before​ ​he​ ​allowed his​ ​eyes​ ​to​ ​find​ ​the​ ​bed​ ​where​ ​Elia​ ​lay.​ ​His​ ​blood​ ​went​ ​cold​ ​in​ ​his​ ​veins.​ ​Gone!
The​ ​folders​ ​almost​ ​fell​ ​from​ ​his​ ​hands​ ​as​ ​he​ ​fled​ ​the​ ​room​ ​without​ ​even​ ​closing​ ​the​ ​door​ ​behind him.​ ​He​ ​all​ ​but​ ​flew​ ​to​ ​the​ ​nearest​ ​nurses’​ ​station.​ ​There​ ​had​ ​to​ ​be​ ​some​ ​explanation.​ ​Dread seized​ ​his​ ​heart​ ​as​ ​the​ ​woman​ ​behind​ ​the​ ​counter​ ​blinked​ ​up​ ​at​ ​him.
“Where​ ​is​ ​he?”
“Sir,​ ​you’re​ ​going​ ​to​ ​have​ ​to​ ​calm​ ​down​ ​before​ ​I​ ​can​ ​help​ ​you.”
Calm​ ​down.​ ​Calm​ ​down?​ ​Each​ ​moment​ ​that​ ​ticked​ ​by​ ​Elia​ ​could​ ​be​ ​further​ ​away,​ ​closer​ ​to​ ​being truly​ ​lost.​ ​He​ ​couldn’t​ ​become​ ​calm.​ ​“Where​ ​has​ ​Elia​ ​Darkstar​ ​been​ ​moved,​ ​please?”
That​ ​was​ ​as​ ​good​ ​as​ ​she​ ​was​ ​going​ ​to​ ​get​ ​and​ ​she​ ​seemed​ ​to​ ​somehow​ ​know​ ​that.​ ​Slowly​ ​she turned​ ​to​ ​a​ ​clipboard​ ​and​ ​began​ ​to​ ​leaf​ ​through​ ​its​ ​pages.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​taking​ ​every​ ​ounce​ ​of​ ​his​ ​being to​ ​not​ ​snatch​ ​it​ ​from​ ​her​ ​and​ ​look​ ​at​ ​it​ ​himself,​ ​and​ ​he​ ​would​ ​have​ ​if​ ​he​ ​thought​ ​he​ ​could decipher​ ​what​ ​those​ ​pages​ ​told​ ​her.​ ​Her​ ​finger​ ​slid​ ​across​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​pages​ ​before​ ​she​ ​reached for​ ​a​ ​book​ ​that​ ​was​ ​beneath​ ​her​ ​counter.​ ​He​ ​took​ ​a​ ​deep​ ​breath​ ​and​ ​let​ ​it​ ​out,​ ​trying​ ​to​ ​temper jangled​ ​nerves​ ​and​ ​swallow​ ​the​ ​growing​ ​constriction​ ​in​ ​his​ ​chest.
Then​ ​he​ ​felt​ ​it.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​as​ ​though​ ​a​ ​cool​ ​breeze​ ​had​ ​entered​ ​and​ ​the​ ​pressure​ ​in​ ​the​ ​room​ ​around him​ ​changed.​ ​The​ ​woman​ ​before​ ​him​ ​didn’t​ ​seem​ ​to​ ​notice,​ ​but​ ​he​ ​shivered​ ​before​ ​he​ ​turned toward​ ​the​ ​hallway​ ​he​ ​had​ ​come​ ​from.​ ​There,​ ​in​ ​the​ ​lingering​ ​shadows​ ​that​ ​the​ ​florescent​ ​lights couldn’t​ ​seem​ ​to​ ​budge,​ ​stood​ ​a​ ​figure.​ ​His​ ​breath​ ​caught​ ​in​ ​his​ ​throat​ ​as​ ​his​ ​feet​ ​turned, carrying​ ​him​ ​away​ ​from​ ​the​ ​woman​ ​and​ ​her​ ​books,​ ​the​ ​spot​ ​of​ ​brightest​ ​light​ ​that​ ​now​ ​seemed garish​ ​and​ ​painful​ ​compared​ ​to​ ​the​ ​looming​ ​dusk​ ​before​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​didn’t​ ​hear​ ​the​ ​woman​ ​who called​ ​after​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​didn’t​ ​see​ ​the​ ​doors​ ​he​ ​passed​ ​or​ ​the​ ​lights​ ​going​ ​dim,​ ​as​ ​if​ ​to accommodate​ ​the​ ​one​ ​who​ ​walked​ ​before​ ​him.​ ​How​ ​had​ ​it​ ​become​ ​so​ ​dark?​ ​It​ ​hadn’t​ ​even been​ ​overcast​ ​when​ ​he​ ​arrived.
The​ ​garments​ ​of​ ​the​ ​one​ ​before​ ​him​ ​flowed​ ​about​ ​him​ ​as​ ​he​ ​walked,​ ​as​ ​though​ ​suspended​ ​by the​ ​air​ ​and​ ​unaffected​ ​by​ ​gravity​ ​itself.​ ​His​ ​hair​ ​was​ ​red,​ ​like​ ​blood,​ ​and​ ​framed​ ​his​ ​shoulders. He​ ​had​ ​thought​ ​it​ ​had​ ​been​ ​his​ ​imagination.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​thought​ ​the​ ​pale​ ​skin​ ​and​ ​cold​ ​burning​ ​eyes had​ ​been​ ​a​ ​fabrication​ ​created​ ​by​ ​the​ ​gore​ ​and​ ​pain​ ​he​ ​witnessed​ ​and​ ​the​ ​exhaustion.​ ​He​ ​still had​ ​nightmares​ ​but​ ​he​ ​couldn’t​ ​use​ ​those​ ​excuses​ ​to​ ​explain​ ​away​ ​the​ ​being​ ​that​ ​had​ ​appeared before​ ​him​ ​a​ ​second​ ​time.
“Elia?”​ ​His​ ​voice​ ​was​ ​a​ ​tentative​ ​whisper,​ ​as​ ​though​ ​he​ ​feared​ ​breaking​ ​the​ ​silence​ ​around them.​ ​The​ ​being​ ​turned​ ​to​ ​him​ ​and​ ​fixed​ ​him​ ​with​ ​his​ ​icy​ ​eyes​ ​before​ ​he​ ​nodded​ ​and​ ​turned away​ ​to​ ​continue​ ​forward.
“Are​ ​you​ ​a​ ​part​ ​of​ ​him?​ ​Are​ ​you​ ​real?”​ ​He​ ​hadn’t​ ​meant​ ​to​ ​say​ ​anything​ ​else​ ​but​ ​he​ ​had​ ​so many​ ​questions.
“I​ ​am​ ​like​ ​you.​ ​I​ ​protect​ ​him.​ ​I​ ​am​ ​from​ ​someplace​ ​else​ ​and​ ​can​ ​only​ ​come​ ​here​ ​when​ ​he​ ​calls,​ ​if he​ ​calls.”​ ​His​ ​voice​ ​was​ ​quiet,​ ​distant,​ ​and​ ​carried​ ​sadness​ ​as​ ​though​ ​they​ ​were​ ​leaves​ ​blown through​ ​a​ ​burning​ ​forest.​ ​“I​ ​am​ ​like​ ​him.​ ​I​ ​was​ ​not​ ​meant​ ​to​ ​be​ ​this​ ​but​ ​I​ ​am.​ ​I​ ​remain​ ​because he​ ​can​ ​not​ ​send​ ​me​ ​away…​ ​but​ ​I​ ​will​ ​use​ ​the​ ​time​ ​he​ ​has​ ​given​ ​me​ ​to​ ​make​ ​things​ ​right,​ ​one soul​ ​at​ ​a​ ​time.​ ​If​ ​you​ ​believe​ ​in​ ​him,​ ​continue​ ​to​ ​be​ ​with​ ​him​ ​and​ ​someday​ ​he​ ​will​ ​open​ ​his​ ​eyes. That​ ​I​ ​promise​ ​you.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​there.”
A​ ​long​ ​pale​ ​hand​ ​rose​ ​before​ ​a​ ​finger​ ​extended,​ ​pointing.​ ​They​ ​were​ ​beside​ ​a​ ​door​ ​that​ ​was framed​ ​by​ ​giant​ ​windows.​ ​He​ ​hadn’t​ ​even​ ​realized​ ​until​ ​he​ ​turned​ ​to​ ​follow​ ​where​ ​the​ ​hand​ ​was pointing.​ ​The​ ​light​ ​made​ ​him​ ​blink​ ​and​ ​obscured​ ​his​ ​view​ ​before​ ​he​ ​turned​ ​back​ ​to​ ​the​ ​figure who​ ​had​ ​directed​ ​him.​ ​Now​ ​the​ ​blood​ ​of​ ​his​ ​hair,​ ​the​ ​ice​ ​of​ ​his​ ​eyes​ ​was​ ​even​ ​more​ ​pronounced and​ ​the​ ​design​ ​on​ ​the​ ​far​ ​side​ ​of​ ​his​ ​face​ ​was​ ​visible​ ​as​ ​scarring​ ​and​ ​not​ ​just​ ​decoration.​ ​Even​ ​in the​ ​light​ ​there​ ​was​ ​a​ ​glow,​ ​as​ ​though​ ​ghostly​ ​fire​ ​burned​ ​upon​ ​his​ ​face​ ​and​ ​the​ ​swirls​ ​were​ ​the paths​ ​that​ ​fire​ ​took.
“What​ ​are​ ​you?”​ ​It​ ​was​ ​another​ ​question​ ​he​ ​hadn’t​ ​meant​ ​to​ ​say​ ​but​ ​didn’t​ ​regret​ ​until​ ​the creature​ ​fixed​ ​him​ ​with​ ​a​ ​stare​ ​he​ ​hadn’t​ ​expected.
“I’m​ ​nothing.​ ​I’m​ ​what​ ​happens​ ​when​ ​a​ ​soul​ ​gets​ ​so​ ​angry​ ​it​ ​must​ ​live​ ​upon​ ​others.​ ​I’m​ ​the corruption​ ​of​ ​purity.​ ​I​ ​am​ ​a​ ​darkness​ ​that​ ​should​ ​have​ ​remained​ ​light.”​ ​Those​ ​eyes​ ​were​ ​trained upon​ ​him,​ ​unblinking​ ​as​ ​he​ ​absorbed​ ​the​ ​words​ ​that​ ​were​ ​barely​ ​a​ ​whisper.
“Is​ ​it​ ​your​ ​fault​ ​he​ ​won’t​ ​come​ ​back?​ ​Did​ ​you​ ​do​ ​this​ ​to​ ​him?”
Before​ ​he​ ​could​ ​react,​ ​long​ ​elegant​ ​fingers​ ​circled​ ​his​ ​throat,​ ​cold​ ​and​ ​dry,​ ​​ ​holding​ ​him​ ​still despite​ ​his​ ​wish​ ​to​ ​flee.​ ​Their​ ​eyes​ ​met​ ​and​ ​he​ ​knew​ ​the​ ​answer.​ ​This​ ​creature​ ​would​ ​never harm​ ​that​ ​boy.​ ​This​ ​creature,​ ​who​ ​was​ ​so​ ​close​ ​and​ ​so​ ​fearsome,​ ​with​ ​its​ ​unearthly​ ​appearance and​ ​presence​ ​that​ ​exuded​ ​harm,​ ​empathized​ ​with​ ​the​ ​child​ ​he​ ​guarded​ ​on​ ​a​ ​level​ ​no​ ​one​ ​else would​ ​ever​ ​understand.
“You​ ​should​ ​go​ ​to​ ​him.​ ​You​ ​need​ ​to​ ​protect​ ​him​ ​because,​ ​if​ ​I​ ​feel​ ​you​ ​are​ ​no​ ​longer​ ​necessary, you​ ​will​ ​be​ ​very​ ​sorry.”
With​ ​that,​ ​he​ ​was​ ​released,​ ​choking​ ​and​ ​sputtering​ ​as​ ​though​ ​his​ ​body​ ​had​ ​forgotten​ ​how​ ​to draw​ ​breath.​ ​His​ ​eyes​ ​watered​ ​and​ ​he​ ​braced​ ​himself​ ​against​ ​the​ ​window,​ ​steadying​ ​himself until​ ​he​ ​could​ ​straighten​ ​and​ ​turn​ ​back​ ​to​ ​the​ ​one​ ​who​ ​had​ ​held​ ​him.​ ​Gone.​ ​He​ ​was​ ​alone​ ​in front​ ​of​ ​the​ ​great​ ​glass​ ​doors​ ​that​ ​were​ ​surrounded​ ​by​ ​their​ ​many​ ​windows.​ ​Now​ ​he​ ​could​ ​see a​ ​wheelchair​ ​outside​ ​on​ ​the​ ​venerable​ ​stone​ ​patio,​ ​and​ ​within​ ​it,​ ​Elia.