Posted by Alanna Horgan January 4th, 2010 |
 

Blood-tinted light glinted off the blade. It clattered against the steel sink, temporarily blinding him. It wasn’t this sight he wanted gone, but his other.

Blood slithered down his nape. He took a steadying breath then dug his fingers into the back of his skull. Pain razored across his scalp and he blinked rapidly to regain the vision he accepted. He no longer passed out when he sliced through the protective gelatinous shield. No longer vomited when he pulled those hated eyes from their sockets. He still wasn’t used to their look of betrayal when he fed them down the garbage disposal though.

He glanced away from their disappointment and scooped them from the floor. Greasy pink tendrils twisted around his fingers in a desperate attempt to remain with him. The ends reached for him, beseeching. He untangled his fingers and dropped his other eyes into the darkness of the drain.

He flicked the switch.

The ghost of a smile touched his lips at the wet, grinding sound of annihilation. Jed McKenzie was now like everyone else… at least for a little while.

#

Sophie bumped the driver’s door shut with her hip, gripped the large paper bag filled with groceries in one arm and locked her car. Sliding the tray of coffees from the roof, she walked slowly toward the neglected weatherboard house. Under the setting sun it looked like flames were devouring it.

In the shadows of the porch the paint was cracked, blue spider-veins pushed through the dirty-white walls. Cobwebs as thick as cataracts covered the windows and the floorboards were crusted with dirt. But the front door was pristine, a healthy Bromeliad potted beside it.

A frigid gust of wind tumbled autumn leaves across the porch and Sophie ducked her head into her shoulders as she waited on the stoop. She didn’t need to knock. He’d seen her the minute she’d turned into the street – later than she’d intended but time always seemed to outmanoeuvre her.

Two locks clicked, a chain slid back. The door opened a fraction. One dark blue eye peeked out from pale skin, black hair pushed from beneath a navy beanie.

He scanned the front yard before quickly returning his gaze to her. ‘What?’

‘I’m Sophie Whitley, Mr McKenzie,’ she smiled. ‘The agency rang yesterday. I’m Joe’s replacement while he’s in hospital.’ She held up the tray. ‘Black, no sugar.’

‘I.D.’

Sophie shifted the bag of groceries to her hip, motioning to the I.D. card hanging around her neck. ‘Same agency, Mr McKenzie-’

‘Pass it here.’

‘Sure.’ Sophie put the groceries and coffee down. She kept hold of the ID as she put it to the door. That one blue eye studied the card through the plastic before flicking back and forth between the photo and her face.

‘Drivers licence.’

Sophie retrieved it and held it up for inspection, her fingers covering her address. ‘Name only.’

‘Wait.’ He closed the door.

Sophie got her coffee, hunching her shoulders against the wind. At least he hadn’t slammed the door in her face. Joe had said Jed was like a skittish horse – ‘just nice and easy, Soph. He has his bad days.’

Halfway through her coffee the door clicked open again. Sophie turned, a smile ready. Jed’s hand shot through the open door, grasped her throat and yanked her inside.

Jed paced the small living room, chewing on his bottom lip. His gaze continually flicked to the unconscious woman slumped on his couch.

‘Liar.’

It was barely a whisper, but it whipped through his mind like the wind outside, getting louder, angrier each time.
Jed pressed his hands to his ears, trying to stop the hateful mutterings bouncing off the inside of his skull. Liar! Liar! LIAR!

He groaned. ‘Stop… stop…’ His eyes wouldn’t be silenced.

He stumbled to the kitchen, grunting as his shoulder caught the doorframe. He steadied himself against the cupboard then flung the door open. Pounding pressure behind his true eyes blurred his vision and he fumbled with the box containing his meds. He yanked off his beanie and moved the bottle to his other eyes. Not this one. He hit pay dirt with the third one.

Jed wrenched the lid, scattering his precious red pills over the kitchen floor. ‘No…’ He dropped to his knees, desperately grabbing at them, but they ricocheted off his fingers.

Six behind him.

He spun quickly. His hands scuttled across the tiles to his prize and he dry swallowed four. Slumped against the back door, he closed the only eyes he could. Tears squeezed from beneath his lids. His chest tightened painfully. He dropped his head. It felt like someone was stabbing knives into his skull. He couldn’t even laugh at the irony. Those hated eyes were regenerating more rapidly each time. Three days it had been since he’d dug the last ones out, and the new ones had already broken through the first tenuous membrane.

Jed lifted his head and opened his eyes. He had a clear line of sight to the woman. The bruise on her forehead was starting to purple, the small trickle of blood now snaking down her cheek. His gut churned. He was the monster he swore he’d never be.

Too shaky to stand, he crawled through the kitchen to the living room. Her satchel was on the coffee table. He upended it, the contents spilling to the carpet. His fingers pushed at the mess: phone, his file, crumpled receipts, five pens, notepad, tic-tacs, keys and her purse. That’s what he wanted. He opened it. Drivers Licence, credit card, video card, coffee card – her next one was free, $40 cash, and hidden behind a collection of business cards a dog-eared photo.

Jed dropped the purse and studied the photo. The woman on his couch was the child in the photo. He could see the fear in her eyes, the hate in those who had to be her parents – their fingers hooked into her shoulders. In the snow-covered wonderland they were three blemishes against the pure white. Why would she keep this?

He turned his attention to her. Pixie. That had been the word that had sprung to mind when he’d seen her. Dark hair cropped short, green almond-shaped eyes… even her ears had a slight point to them. He put the photo into the pocket of his jeans and studied her Drivers Licence.

‘Sophie Whitley.’ He looked to the woman again. No one from that damn support agency had rung him to tell him Joe was being replaced. And the bastards hadn’t heard of a Sophie Whitley either. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

Jed picked up his file and flicked through it. It didn’t contain anything he hadn’t heard before. Paranoid Schizophrenic. He knew his diagnosis. While it was wrong, he went along with it – anything to keep him out of society. He saw notes in Joe’s strong script, others in a more calligraphic style. She’d marked his headaches, his refusal to have cat-scans or MRIs and his fear of being physically examined. His stomach lurched. ‘More tests? ’she’d written. Had his mother been right?

Jed shook his head for a long time, the movement slowing as the painkillers kicked in. He put the file on the coffee table and settled on the floor, his back toward the woman. While he couldn’t keep his true eyes open, his others would remain locked to her as he rested.

Even asleep, he never truly was.

#

The pounding in Sophie’s head woke her. She frowned and wished she hadn’t. Pain skewered through her temple, spiralled down her face and neck. She gasped and raised trembling hands to her head. Waves of nausea hit her.

‘Please make it stop,’ she begged any god who would listen.

Her fingers brushed over a lump on her forehead. What? They came away sticky. Blood? She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom. When did night fall? She squinted into the shadows. Streetlamps barely illuminated the room. Not home. Sophie struggled to remember where she was, what had happened, but the steady pounding in her head jarred her half-formed thoughts. Her vision was still blurred, and she could see nothing but shadows within shadows.

She slowed her breathing, kept completely still, and closed her lids. Her ears would be her eyes – it had kept her alive as a kid.

Rain sprinkled against the roof. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Steady breathing to her left.

She turned her head slowly and pushed back into the couch as a darkened figure rolled quickly into a crouch. Both of them were now breathing heavily. The shadow unfolded into its true size.

Jed McKenzie.

‘Don’t fucking move,’ he growled.

Sophie nodded, wincing at the stabbing pain in her neck.

He retreated slowly to the kitchen, his eyes glued to her. ‘If you’re thinking of running, think again. One, you won’t make it. And two, the door’s dead bolted. Understand?’

Sophie nodded again. ‘Understand.’

Jed turned and moved quickly into the kitchen. Sophie kept her eyes on his back and shifted quietly on the couch.

‘I said don’t move!’

She froze. He continued to rummage through a drawer – his back turned. Her eyes flicked to the mess on the floor, and anger burned up her chest. He’d gone through her things. His file was on the coffee table. There was no doubt he’d read it, and no doubt he was off his meds. She dropped her gaze to the floor again. If she could get to a pen she’d at least have a weapon.

She flicked her gaze to Jed. He still had his back to her. She inched her hand toward the floor.

‘You move one more time I’ll tie you to a chair.’ He turned to her. ‘I don’t want to, but I will.’

Sophie moved her hand back. ‘Can I sit up?’

Barefoot, he walked back to the living room, a large butcher knife held in his right hand, a first-aid kit in the other. ‘Cross-legged on the couch. Slowly.’

Sophie did as ordered while he kicked the contents of her bag away from her. No weapon, and reasoning with a paranoid schizophrenic during an episode was damn near impossible. The only thing working in her favour was Jed’s apparent fear of being touched.

He took his seat in the armchair to her left and placed the first-aid kit at his feet. He kept the knife in plain sight.

‘Mr McKenzie… Jed… please, just list—‘

‘No. You’re going to answer some questions.’ He switched on the tiffany lamp sitting the side table. ‘Truthfully.’ Light glinted off the knife’s blade.

Sophie studied him: unruly black hair fell to his shoulders, stubbled jaw, and those dark blue eyes of his never left her face. He looked ten years older than his thirty years. ‘Okay.’

His smile was more a grimace. ‘That wasn’t a question.’

Sophie said nothing.

‘Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t know who Sophie Whitley is, and neither do the agency. I rang them. They’ve never heard of you. It may be your real name, but I doubt it.’ He leant forward, the knife held tight. ‘Who the hell are you?’

Sophie looked directly into Jed’s eyes. ‘My name’s Sophie Whitley, Jed, I’m a mental health nur-’

‘Don’t lie!’ he roared.

Sophie flinched and pressed back against the lounge, her eyes glued to the knife. ‘Jed, I’m telling the truth.’ She tried to remain calm but it was a damn big knife. ‘Joe said you needed my help. I’m here to help you-’

Jed rammed the knife into the side table. Sophie shrieked and leapt from the couch, but Jed was quicker. His hand clamped vice-like on her upper arm and he threw her back to the couch. Her breath grunted out of her, his other hand closed over her throat.

He leaned close. ‘Nah-ah.’ Stale breath washed over her, but it was the anger and fear warring behind his eyes that had her heart pounding. ‘You’re not going anywhere until I get answers.’

‘I’m telling the truth,’ Sophie barely squeaked out.

‘Liar!’ he hissed, yanking her towards him before slamming her back to the couch.

Her head hit the armrest and colours exploded behind her eyes. ‘Stop… please…’ she begged. ‘Joe sent me!’

He raised his hand. ‘Liar!’ The word sank with her into the abyss.

 #

Jed pressed the heels of his hands into his true eyes. What was he doing? He never hurt anyone but himself. His mother warned him about this. If anyone found out about his ‘gift’ they’d come for him. Experiment on him. She had called him special. Jed knew he was an abomination. A monster. Monster…monster… monster… His second eyes darted in time with their mind-chant. This was survival.

He lifted his head and focused on the woman. Her cheek was swollen, the cut small. Monster…monster! Jed shook his head in denial. No, I’m not a monster. Joe knew that. And Joe wouldn’t let anyone replace him, especially a woman. He knew Jed didn’t want them looking at him, especially pretty ones. Monster!

‘No.’

He knelt beside her, grabbed the first-aid kit and cleaned and patched her wounds. He put a cushion beneath her head. He wasn’t a monster.

He sat back on his heels, hesitated then carefully removed her jacket; nothing in the pockets. He pushed her shirtsleeves up and checked the skin – nothing. He removed her boots, again nothing. He’d seen that TV show where those super-humans had barcodes tattooed on their necks. No one could discover his secret.

He shifted her onto her side, pulled her collar back and gasped as his balls exploded in pain. Jed cupped his throbbing crotch, fell back and lurched to his right to avoid his head hitting the corner of the coffee table. He gasped for breath as his hated eyes saw her grab for the knife. Jed bit back bile and kicked out. She yelped when he caught her thigh, crashing her to the floor. She was here to take him! Bitch.

Jed scrambled, yanked the knife from the table and pushed to his feet. Swirling nausea kept him stooped, but he advanced slowly as she shuffled back on her arse.

‘Jed, please.’ She raised her hand and pushed slowly to her feet. ‘Just listen.’ Tears streamed down her cheeks and she continued to back up, but her eyes never left the blade. ‘Put the knife down, please. We can talk this thr-’

‘I want answers,’ Jed tightened his grip on the knife. ‘Who sent you?’

‘Guardian Support Agency,’ she inched toward the hallway. ‘They rang-’

‘Liar!’ he roared. Monster, monster! roared back, crashing against his skull. His hated eyes pulsed against their membrane, taunting, daring him to be the monster they knew he was. ‘They’ve never heard of you!’

‘I’m a specialist!’ She kept retreating. ‘Joe called me in to help you while he rec-’

‘NO! Jed wouldn’t do that! Jed wouldn’t do that!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Not Jed.’

‘Jed, listen to yourself. You mean Joe, don’t you?’

He shook his head and took another step towards her. ‘Stop tricking me!’ He steadied the knife. ‘I know why you’re here!’ Monster! Monster! ‘No experiments! I’ll kill you first!’

Terror settled in her eyes, colour fled her face. ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ she begged.

Doubt began to whisper to him. No! She was scared because he knew why she was here – to take him. Monster! That’s right. He was a monster. His second eyes broke through their protective shield.

He launched himself when she ran.

The knife sliced through the air, missing her by centimetres. He crashed into the wall, jarring his shoulder as she raced into the kitchen. “Bitch!” He charged after her, his other eyes scanning the hallway behind him.

Jed stopped at the doorframe, took a breath and ducked into the kitchen. He couldn’t see her. The lamp in the living room was off. ‘You can’t escape, Sophie,’ he edged toward the living room. ‘I’ll get my answers.’ He opened the knife drawer; his second eyes scanned the contents. All there. He smiled. She hadn’t had time to get a weapon.

Monster! His second eyes watched his back as he stepped silently into the living room. He scanned the shadows, looking for movement, listening for her breathing. Behind the couch. He kept low, ducking behind the armchair. The knife held ready, he took a breath and burst around the back of the couch.

Empty.

He crouched, heart pounding. Where-

The couch smashed against him, knocking him to his hands and knees. His second eyes saw her too late.

She landed on his back and slammed him to the floor. She wrenched the knife from his fingers and rammed it through his hand. He screamed, his hated eyes watching her fingers spear toward them. Monster!

Jed howled as she ripped them from their sockets. She yanked the knife free and shoved him onto his back, straddling him. He yelled again when she severed the tendons in his other hand.

He blinked, forcing himself to focus, trying to understand. ‘No.’

Her eyes were huge and their green swirled rapidly from dark to light and back again. Her ears had elongated. ‘Pixie…’

‘Not quite, Jed,’ she smiled.

He recoiled. Two rows of tiny pointed teeth filled her mouth. ‘Monster.’

‘Me? I guess I am.’ Her ears twitched. ‘But aren’t you too?’

‘No…’

‘That’s what you told Joe. Told him you wanted it to end.’ She smiled that ghastly smile again. ‘He sent me here to grant your wish.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, you can see us. We can’t have that.’

Jed tried to scream but those needle-like teeth sank deep into his neck.

He turned his head. His second eyes sat on the carpet, filled with sadness. He’d misunderstood them. They’d tried to warn him – monster.

‘Just…wanted to be… like everyone else…’ he told them.

End.