Desiderium

Fīftēoða

Stepping over a melted puddle of black slush, Benjamin hurried down the icy street with his leather medical bag in hand. Now that his schedule was cleared back up again, he must continue on with his practice.

He had to if he wanted to continue being a doctor.

As much as he might have wanted to, he could not devote his entire time to just one girl. He had done all he could for her. Why should he waste any more of his time on her?

She had made her choice. Let her seek out Nathaniel as her lover then. Let her seek out death and let it be granted to her.

But a part of him knew that he would not be free of Emilia unless she lived.

Unless he saved her.

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" a paperboy shouted from the street corner. "Read all about the bloody accident at Sinclair Mill!"

"Bloody accident?" Benjamin whipped his head around. "What bloody accident?"

"5 cents for you to know." The boy held out his hand.

With an irritated sigh, the man fished out a nickel from his coat pocket and handed it to the child. Grabbing the paper from him, he did not have to look far to find his answer. There, on the front page, was the article detailing the accident that had occurred yesterday afternoon.

His eyes grew wider and wider as they scanned over each line. A sense of dread he had never known before filled him to the point he was sure his bodily temperature had dropped several degrees.

"Mister, are you alright?" The boy noticed the paper shaking in his hands.

Benjamin could barely move his head back and forth. It took all his strength to do so. Still gripping the paper, he forgot about the patient he was arranged to visit and stormed off towards the mill.

A flock of crows, or as Benjamin came to discover the proper name, a murder of crows were perched atop the roof of the mill. As he walked towards the building, they cawed at him, flapping their wings in agitation at his arrival.

Benjamin glowered up at them, irritated by their insistent squawking. Tuning it out, the man continued approaching the building with only one thing on his mind.

Finding the truth.

Seeing a worker out in the alley smoking a cigarette, Benjamin promptly swerved from the straight line he had been walking.

"What happened yesterday?" he demanded, ignoring the suspicious look she was giving him.

"I'm sure it's in the papers by now." She shifted the cigarette to the side of her mouth.

"Who died?!" Benjamin's lips pulled back in a snarl.

The woman shrugged.

Reaching back into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of crumpled bills and held it in front of the woman's grimy face. "I'll ask you again, woman. Who died?"

The woman's eyes lit up at the sight. "Just some girl. Don't know her name."

"Describe her then." He folded his arms over his chest.

"Brown skin. Tight, curly hair. Tall for a woman." Her stare never left the bills, only growing hungrier. "Couldn't have been older than twenty-five."

"Did–Did she have a cough?"

She nodded, blowing smoke out of her mouth. "A nasty one too. Thought she going to cough up her lung."

Benjamin squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. "How?"

She tilted her head, placing the cigarette back in between her teeth. "You mean how did she die? Some bundles of steel rods fell on her. Crushed her instantly."

His eyes immediately opened at her words. Before he could even process what he was doing, his hand had already thrown the wad of cash at the woman. The bills scattered to the ground around her, fluttering to the wet pavement.

Benjamin turned away, leaving the woman to desperately pick up the bills off the street.

**

It was late when he returned. The mill would be closing soon.

He could see the workers already beginning to slow down from the window, beginning to finish up. Nathaniel and Thomas were also there, walking around the factory floor. Benjamin could guess why Thomas was there, probably to ensure another accident didn't happen. His eyes shifted to the side, seeing a large stain on the floor. It was fresh. He knew this by how its former red color had oxidized to brown.

So it was true, after all.

A part of him had hoped it was not. A foolish, desperate part of him wanted to believe that the worker had been lying to satisfy her greed.

But seeing was believing as was not seeing, and what he did not see was Emilia.

There was no sight of her among the other workers. Even from the other windows, he did not catch the glimpse of her he so badly wanted.

Yet, he did catch a glimpse of something else in the factory. Painted doors disguised to be real. He had seen them the first time here but had not realized their true purpose.

Not until now.

A smile came to his lips at the irony of it all. He wouldn't be completely responsible for what happened. Thomas's corporate greed would have some part in his demise, as it rightfully should.

Backing away from the window, he went to the main door and grabbed a discarded rod off the ground. It seemed this place being so filthy and industrial had its purposes in the end.

He placed the rod between the door handles, barring it from the outside.

By now, complete darkness had fallen over him, shrouding him in its clutches. Onlookers would see nothing but a black silhouette, save for the strange, white mask it wore.

He did not have to wear the mask. There was no reason for it. The darkness would have been enough of a disguise. The truth was he could no longer resist the call of the mask. Ever since that night, it had been haunting him with invisible whispers of the past. All he could do was embrace them.

And so he did.

Having gone back to the antique shop with a rock in his hand, Benjamin snatched the mask from the shattered glass. It felt warm in his hands as though it had a life of its own. He almost expected it to start throbbing while he held it.

Yet, it also felt familiar in his hands. Just as it did now on his face.

Pulling out a box of matches, he struck one against the side. The flame lit instantly, flickering in the night. He held it before his eyes for a moment before pressing it beneath the drenched rag stuffed into the bottle.

It would be years before this device would have an official name. But its purpose remained the same throughout history.

To set fires to those who were targets.

The screams began immediately once the bottle came crashing through the window.

The screams that followed were much different though. The first set of screams had been because of the unexpectedness of it all. But these
were because of the blaze that began shortly after.

It was not long before the entire building was engulfed in flames. It took only a matter of minutes. And Benjamin stood there to relish every second of the chaos, smiling from under his mask at the sight and sounds.

His only regret was not being able to witness Thomas and Nathaniel pounding at the door as the flames consumed them.