In hindsight, Owen was almost sure that such a thing would happen. Almost sure that he had felt a weight on his shoulders growing heavier, a feeling of inevitable despair in the back of his mind that stirred. That fate had come to punish him for stealing a soul, or that the ghost of the past had returned, come with its unfinished business.
It's unfinished business, to clip the final string that keeps me from falling into the abyss. First Ben, then Alissa... all cut from me, and now Jessica. I had repaired the string once, but what more will fate do before it is satisfied?
Shivering, Owen gave a deep breath as he reached the top of the stairs, coming face-to-face with his apartment door. He paused, unsure what surprises lied on the other side, and then gritted his teeth. No, this would not what he would amount to, a coward that ran from dangers that were not there, and hid from dangers that were! No - ignorance, cowardice had been the end of Ben. His failure to act in time, standing there petrified with fear, led to nothing but regret. If I wish for Jessica to stay safe, then what good will I do standing here, thinking of what could happen rather than embracing the truth?
Determination coursed through him as he inserted his key into the apartment door and stepped in. Hanging his coat onto the rack, Owen walked over and placed his bag on the kitchen table, the feeling of dread lingering. Struggling to ignore it as he called Jessica to dinner, Owen took two McDonald's burgers out of his bag and braced himself. I can imagine it already. Jessica's going to be sick again. Or missing. She'll have done something rash, and then-
Owen gave a quick sigh of relief as he saw Jessica opening the door to her room and strolling over to the table, plopping down on the opposite side of Owen. Taking and unwrapping her burger with careless fingers, she looked at Owen with an innocent glint in her eye and smiled. "Hi, Dad!"
Owen returned the smile. "Hey, Jessica. How's it going?"
Jessica took a bite out of the burger and paused for a moment before replying, "Pretty good."
"What did you do while I was away?" Owen grimaced, hoping that his tone didn't come off as threatening. But I can't help but worry.
"I got bored, so I read those books that you gave me, again. Did you know that the Treaty of Tashar was signed in 2094?" Looking at Jessica's eager expression, Owen shook his head, forcing himself not to give away his straight face.
"No, but that's interesting. Did you spend the entire day reading?"
Jessica's pursed her lips, as if trying to remember. "Well... I also played the Pretend game, like you told me to play if I didn't have anything else to do. This time I pretended that I was in the downtown again!" Owen gave a bittersweet smile, laced with both joy and guilt. "I imagined that there were birds that helped me fly around to see the downtown, and I would fly to each of the buildings and see what was inside."
"What was inside, then?" Owen asked, beginning to become amused by his daughter's antics.
Jessica's smile brightened as she searched for an answer. "Well... I guess I forgot. But I do remember that I was friends with the birds, and that we talked a lot. And then they taught me how to fly!" Owen gave a joking expression of surprise.
"Really? But even I don't know how to fly."
Jessica laughed. "It's easy, dad." Putting down the tiny portion that remained of her burger, Jessica began to let her arms lift and fall in a flapping motion. "It's just like that."
Owen chuckled, seeing Jessica almost believe in her own words. "Well, it sounds like you had a fun day. Am I right, Jessica?"
Jessica nodded, her plump head bobbing up and down. "Yeah! I kinda didn't feel so good though. At least, after you left."
Owen paled for a moment before forcing himself to keep casual demeanor. "Oh? Why?"
Jessica shrugged, her tone suggesting that nothing was overly wrong. "I just feel kind of dizzy. And hot, but at the same time, I feel cold." Looking at her burger, she added, "I don't feel like eating anymore."
A feeling of despair began to grow inside of Owen, yet he tried to shove it away. It's not fatal. All she said was that she doesn't feel so good. That doesn't mean that... no, you're just being paranoid. You have to be."It's..." It couldn't have been something like Bloodfire! It couldn't have possibly been! He was overreacting, and he was a fool! "It's... probably a fever, Jessica. I'm sure..." Am I, though? "...that if you get enough rest today, you'll be fine tomorrow." Yes, it was only a fever.
Only a fever. Nothing worse. Bloodfire was the end of this nonsense. I injected the soul into Jessica, and now everything's over.
So why is this still happening?
Jessica nodded and stood up from the table, appearing confident in Owen's words. "I guess I'll do that, then. I feel tired anyway. Love you, dad. Good night!" Owen gave a faint acknowledgement with his expression, but he hardly noticed otherwise, caught in a struggle within himself. Yes, she's just tired. Tired, with a fever. She'll be fine tomorrow. Watching Jessica prance over to her room with such naivety, Owen wished he had such assurance to help him now. Assurance that everything was as simple as it seemed, and that there was a simple solution to a simple truth.
And is there? Looking down at his own burger, Owen felt his own appetite dwindling, yet continued to eat the rest of his meal. He couldn't let it spoil, not when even something like that costed him so much.
And if even a burger costs me a fortune, how can one even count how much Jessica is worth to me?
As the door to Jessica's room closed behind him, Owen wished he also had the grace of sleep.
The grace of darkness, endless and still.
* * *
Owen struggled to sleep that night.
He had tried going for another drink at first, but it seemed even that could not relieve his mind. And so he lied on his bed, a thunderstorm of incomprehensible thoughts swirling in his head, staring at the chipped grey walls that slowly crumbled.
There was a table topped with framed photos adjacent to his bed, but he ignored it. Forced himself to ignore it. The smiling faces of him and Alissa together, or Ben holding a trophy or ribbon, were all poisoned daggers that carved at his heart. Sweet poison, memories that he would smile over, yet the sweetness would eventually die away, and like always, it would be followed by pain. The pain of reality, the pain of seeing what he was left with now.
And so he continued to lie there, his mind a storm that that was clearly there, yet just as clearly ungraspable. An infuriating mix that refused for him to sleep, yet refused for him to wake either.
That was before he heard the scream.
He was not sure how deep into the night it was when he first heard it, but at that moment, Owen felt as if something had clicked inside of him. A key that freed him from the chain of wondering, agonizing over what could've happened, only to free him into the harsh truth of what really was there. Feeling the whirlwind in his mind becoming clearer, Owen dashed out of his room and across the kitchen, running towards the source of the sound.
Barging into Jessica's room, Owen tensed as he saw his daughter, eyes squeezed shut as she spasmed violently. Uncontrollably. Tears slowly began to form in her eyes, and she opened them, the pain on her face indescribable.
"D... dad," Jessica choked, spasms pausing for a quick moment as she saw Owen. "I... I feel like... I feel like I'm burning up. Like... it hurts, dad. It... it hurts!" Jessica clenched her teeth and began to curl into a ball as she spasmed again. "Dad... dad... it... I..." Tears began to flow, at first slowly, but at last a steady stream. "Dad... help..."
Forcing himself to breath evenly, Owen knelt beside Jessica's bed, reaching out to hold Jessica's hand before recoiling in shock. Her hand did burn, and on contact, Owen was almost sure that he had felt a piece of hell, fires ceaselessly blazing.
If this is what it feels just by a single touch, what must Jessica feel? Looking at his daughter hopelessly, Owen began to reach to touch Jessica again, tempted to see whether he could've at least done anything to save her, and then stopped. No, what could he possibly do now? He did not have another soul that he could save Jessica with, nor knowledge or supplies that could help her in any way. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Standing up, Owen continued to watch Jessica spasm, with a small, futile hope that she would recover on her own. Spasm, pause. Spasm, pause. There were times when the attacks were better than others, and other times when they were worse.
But the core remained. That Jessica would remain like this.
Spasm, pause. Spasm, pause.
That Jessica would die like this.
Spasm, pause.
Desperation bubbled up inside Owen. Grimacing, he reached for the phone in his pocket. He had never wished to dial the number again, but it seemed he had no choice now. I have no where else to run, and sometimes, the shadows are the only place where one can hide from the demons.
He put his finger over the first number. The shadows. Oh, the shadows. The shadows that blend into the world with a mask, the shadows that act with a smile but think with a grin. The shadows that he had once trusted. They said they wanted to help, but they only did it for the money. They said they tried their best to save Ben, yet they couldn't have cared.
And how do I ever trust a murderer?
Owen sighed, tapping the second number. If they can kill another murderer.
He tapped the final number and put the phone to his ear. "Hello, Agarlan Emergency Services? Uh- My name is Owen Milano, and my daughter, Jessica, is currently... dying." The word still stung. "Yes, she's having constant spasms... epilepsy, you call it? and her body temperature is abnormally high. What's that? Er, did I measure it exactly?" Dammit, he probably should've. Either way, the impact was the same. "No, but her forehead-" The hand was good enough! "-is boiling. You have to feel it yourself to understand." Owen paused as he listened to the person on the other line. "Yes, that's pretty much it. Epilepsy and abnormally high body temperature. Can she move right now? Well, aside from spasming, no." Was that a stifled laugh he heard on the other side of the line? Or just a cough in the background?
"Yes, she could easily harm herself. Yes, yes, yes... Stalwyn Avenue, yes..." Glancing at Jessica, Owen prayed that it wasn't too late to save her, like someone else that he knew. "What's that? You're sending an ambulance on the way?" Owen lowered the phone in relief. "Thank you."
Owen ended the call, continuing to watch Jessica writhe in agony.
Continuing to watch the abyss swallow him whole.
* * *
At three in the morning, the many apartments of Stalwyn Avenue would be awoken as an ambulance rushed down the street.
Many who were watching would see a man walk out of the apartment to talk to the paramedics, with the paramedics eventually following the man up the stairs. And then, if anybody was still seeing what happened, one would wonder why the paramedics carried a little girl back down the apartment using a mattress, and seemed to avoid coming in contact with her as she convulsed.
In the course of several minutes, the girl would be put into the ambulance, and the man would say several words of thanks to the paramedics before taking the cot back up the stairs again.
And then the ambulance would leave.
Many would wonder what had happened, or why exactly it had happened in the first place.
Yet nobody would understand.
* * *
The next day was strange to Owen, going to work and serving food to others at McDonalds, the calm demeanor on his face suggesting that nothing was wrong. He would strike a friendly conversation with the customers as usual, giving them helpful tips and recommendations, and then smiling as the customers left to enjoy their meal.
Yet the calmness of it all disturbed Owen too. After all, the indifference was genuine, as if Owen really couldn't care less about what was happening. He knew that somewhere, there had once been that flame inside of him that drove him to save Jessica. Drove him to do something so daring as to stealing a soul. Yet now... where was the flame? The spark, even?
Strangely, though, Owen knew the answer too. He was tired of fighting against the river of fate, tired of battling against the current, only to be once more swept away. He had tried to save Ben once, and failed. He had tried to save Jessica once, and yet he still failed. What good would there be in trying again?
There's no longer any point in trying to fight it. What will I reap from it anyway, rather than simply accepting what's there, and being satisfied with it?
A part of Owen hated it, a part of Owen still urged him onwards, to save Jessica, to steal another soul, whatever it costed. But that part was dying, a skin that would soon be permanently shed, left behind in the dust of the past and replaced by a new coat. A coat of indifference. The paramedics will do what they will. Jessica may die, Jessica may not die. It's all-
A sudden jolt of grief went through Owen as he thought about Jessica. No, that's not right. That's not... but what good will there be? Owen clenched his fists, only to loosen them as he watched for more customers that would soon come over to order. It shouldn't be like this! Jessica...
She's innocent.
The feeling of grief seemed to wrench deeper into Owen. She's innocent. Can I afford to care if she doesn't deserve such a fate?
Owen could barely force himself a smile as a customer walked up to the counter. No, I'm not saving Jessica for the sake of myself anymore. I've already lost too much to care about that. But Jessica still deserves a future, still deserves to hope and dream. And if I am to die... at least I'll die knowing that I tried to give her a second chance.
In its own strange way, that seemed almost perfect.