Mark awoke the next day, not in his room.. Well, it was his room but it also wasn't.
It crawled up the walls. It hid under his bed. It wriggled its way through his body.
It.
Hide is what he could do, but it was also what he couldn't do. The two sides of the pendulum swung in synchrony as he stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling. Wasn't his anymore. Or was it?
What the fuck is going on.
Then Mark awoke, covered from head to toe in sweat.
His breathing was heavy, it was as if he had just run a marathon.
'Fuck..'
He clambered out of bed and made his way over to his coffee machine. Five minutes passed and he picked up his coffee, picked up the newspaper, which Jacob had posted through his door, and sat down at his table. If he could've remembered his dream he would've, but his mind was blank. He shouldn't have forgotten it. Should he?
Flicking through the newspaper, a headline caught his attention.
Decomposed body finally identified.
'Ooh,' Mark thought as he read on expecting Tom's name to appear, but it didn't.
The body is from a man named Dennis Huett.
'What.' Mark was shocked and looked around his room, waiting for Tom to appear. When that didn't happen he continued to read.
Dennis was a 78 year old caretaker who was looking after the Wallace family's house whilst they were away in France. His body was found in such a poor condition and the police are saying that was the reason for him not being identified until now. Commissioner Matthew Song sends his apologies to the Huett family for the late identification and wishes to offer them a free funeral in exchange.
Mark shot up out of his seat, spilling his coffee as he rose.
"TOM!!" He shouted. "TOM WHERE ARE YOU!!" Mark's eyes darted around the room, waiting for Tom's face to appear.
Three knocks.
Mark spun to face the front door. It was just like before. Tom was going to be on the other side.
Cautiously, he walked over to the door.
Three more knocks.
Mark swung it open only to be greeted by... Jacob?
"Oh.. It's you." Mark sighed.
"What do you mean, 'Oh it's me.' Who the fuck else is going to be knocking at your door this early."
Jacob appeared to be pissed about something.
"I'm pissed, Mark. Can you not just start shouting out of nowhere, and who is Tom."
"Oh shit, you heard me."
"Are you thick, of course I heard you... You're practically screaming his name... You're not doing what I think you're doing.. Right?"
"No, I just had a bad dream."
"Ohh, ok. So no gay stuff yeah."
"What." Mark looked at Jacob, disgusted by his words.
"Y'know you should tell me if this Tom fellows coming 'round because, well, I'll get the fuck away. Please and thank you." Jacob turned and started walking down the stairs.
"Alright, thanks Jacob, I guess." Mark shut the door and walked back over to the table.
He grabbed a cloth and began to mop up the spilled coffee, Dennis Huett's name still residing within his mind.
As he mopped he suddenly noticed his reflection in the spillage. It wasn't there. But this didn't phase him. He didn't care.
"What, you didn't see? I don't know if you noticed but your reflection is gone." It was that voice again, from the bathroom.
"Yeah I noticed, but I don't really care. Worse shit has happened, losing my reflection is definitely on the lighter side."
"Alright." The imposter spoke in a stern tone. "I did tell you that 'Tom' was a liar, didn't I."
"Yeah, sure. I'm sure he can explain all this to me. I mean he was human, at one point, just like me."
The imposter giggled and Mark could see him now, his own reflection looking back at him with a demonic grin. Except it wasn't Mark's face.
'How could that even be called a face.' He thought as he wiped up the rest of the coffee, erasing the imposturous reflection.
"They were wrong Mark. That body is mine."
Mark spun around and there Tom was, standing by the front door.
"Who is Dennis Huett then? That is who they are claiming the body belongs to."
"I'm not sure Mark. I'm not sure." Tom sat down at the table and continued. "I believe that it's just a mistake on their part, they were never going to identify the correct person, that would've been impossible... I was stripped, stripped of my humanity, by those 'things'." Tom held his head in his hands. "They played with my body for what felt like centuries. Those.. Those fuckin' bastards." Tom's tone turned aggressive.
"What are you talking about? Are you talking about the people who tortured you?" Mark stood up, cloth in hand, and then sat down on the chair facing Tom on the other side of the table.
"People.." Tom laughed nervously, "Those were not people. They pulled me apart.. Put me back together, over and over and over again... They treated me like a toy and all for my life sap." Tom clenched his head harder.
"Woahh.. What are you talking about Tom, what do you mean they pulled you apar- what's life sap. You can't just say these things and expect me to listen without questioning it."
Tom took his hands away from his face. "Look, as I keep on saying, I'll explain everything to you when the time is right. I don't want my words to take a toll on the life you are living. You seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more now, and that's nice to see"
"But, I want to know. If what you are describing is going to happen to me then.. I want to know... I need to know."
"No. You're going to be alright Mark." Tom smiled. "Live your life, we'll talk again when the time is right... Goodbye Mark."
"What do you mean, goodbye?" Mark panicked. "No you aren't going to leave me. You won't, I need you, I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on!"
Tom chuckled, "See ya.. Mark"
And with that, Tom disappeared in the blink of an eye.
A tear rolled down Mark's face as he sat staring at where Tom was just sitting.
'What the hell is going on?'
It was now midday and Mark flung a black and yellow scarf over his brown trenchcoat and headed out. He felt like eating something posh today... Maybe The Looking Glass. 'That is really boujie.'
As he headed towards it he took a quick walk through Frontal Park, he enjoyed these quiet mornings. Well.. everyday in Veilham was quiet.
'Wait.'
Mark noticed a person sat on a bench, usually this was no big deal he would just walk past them and they would both go on with their days, however he felt he recognised this person.
It was her. The girl. From that night. Outside The Pale Mare.
He approached her slowly so as not to scare her.
"Can I help you?" She spoke before he could even reach ten metres of her and she didn't even turn her head, she just stared. Stared out into the trees and foliage.
"No, It's fine.. I just thought I recognised you from somewhere." Mark smiled warmly.
"Well you probably don't.. I don't go out." She lifted a cigarette to her mouth and lit it.
"You like looking at nature?" Mark asked, now within three metres of her.
"What a bizarre question.. Stranger." She turned to face him. He stopped walking.
It is her. The Girl.
Her hair was uneven, dark and cut short like she'd done it herself with a broken mirror. Her eyes were outlined in black that winged out to a perfect point. Her skin was pale, almost ghostlike, and her lips were painted black.
She wore a high-collard cropped jacket of black satin with metallic buttons and a fishnet undershirt.
This kind of outfit stood out within Veilham.
"You tryna hit on me?" She lifted the cigarette from her mouth, held it between her index and middle finger and rested her arm on her knee. She stared, unimpressed at Mark.
"No.." Mark replied confused, "Y'know not every stranger who wants to have a chat with you wants to.. do that."
"Most do." She turned away again but scooted up the bench allowing space for Mark to sit down. "Sooo, where do you think you recognise me from." She said putting the cigarette back into her mouth.
Sitting down, Mark replied, "Maybe like.. a week ago. Outside The Pale Mare."
"Doesn't ring a bell." She said, crossing her legs.
"Wha- How. You were- Never mind... Anyway you from around here I take it."
"Yep."
"Ok."
The silence was awkward.
"So do you like looking at nature?"
"You already asked that question." She replied, not breaking eye contact with the trees.
Mark sighed, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to answer. That is why questions are asked in the first place. Y'know, to get an answer."
"I fuckin' hate nature." She replied snappily.
"Oh.. Ok, same."
'Who the hell am I sitting next to?' Mark pondered before asking another question.
"Well, my name's Mark.. How about yours."
She snorted, "Who are you the fuckin' Riddler?" She laughed, having found her own joke far too funny, however Mark could sense something in her laugh. A deep sadness. Or maybe fear.
"Nope."
"Ok, well at least we got that clear." She reached her hand out to shake his, still not looking away from the trees. "The name's Alice." She coughed, dropping the cigarette out of her mouth.
Mark shook her hand and watched her face as a tear trickled down from her eye to her chin, smearing her eyeliner down her cheek.
"Hey, Mark."
"Yeah."
"You ever read Lovecraft? You know, cosmic horror and all that."
"Erm.. Should I have?" He replied, confused, he had never heard of this 'Lovecraft' thing before.
"Is it a genre of book or.."
Alice seemed stunned. "How have you never heard of him? Do you live under a rock?" She finally turned to face him. "And also Lovecraft is a name so no it's not a genre.. Actually, well it's confusing. I kind of hoped you had because I was about to go on a ramble about some shit I was just thinking about but, I guess you're safe."
"Oh thank god then.." Mark said sarcastically.
Alice stared at him and laughed, "You are something Mark."
An hour passed, Mark and Alice decided to head into The Looking Glass for some food.
"Woah, this place is really posh." Alice said, realising it was maybe a little bit too loud after getting annoyed looks from the owner.
"Exactly what I was thinking." Mark responded. "Come, let's sit by the window."
He and Alice made their way through the empty café and to a table with two seats placed directly next to a window with a view of the park.
"Unique outfit." Mark said as they sat.
"Umm, ok.. Thanks Mark... You too, I guess." She said awkwardly. "I mean.. Yours isn't anything particularly special but, nice idea." She smiled at him, warmly.
"Thanks Alice.. I think."
Suddenly Mark felt a sudden sense of dread wash over him, removing this warmth he had just been gifted.
They locked eyes... Not him and Alice but with someone else. Someone he didn't want to see. ~
The man in purple, his black topper hat shrouded his eyes in darkness. He extinguished his cigar on a matte black ash tray and mouthed, 'Hi Mark.'
Elias Crowe then proceeded to take out a notebook and began jotting something down.
A droplet of sweat creeped its way down Mark's face as he watched in horror as Elias continued to look up at him and then note something down onto his book.
"You ok?" Alice asked, noticing the sweat dripping down Mark's face. "Who are you staring at-" She turned around and saw him. The man in purple.
She turned back to Mark. "Who is that, he looks well posh, do you know him?"
"Sadly yes, his name's Elias Crowe and... He doesn't like me very much." Mark stands up out of his chair. "Let's go someplace else, I'm sorry but sometimes a place can feel too posh for its own good."
"I completely disagree with you.. But I don't mind grabbing food someplace else."
Mark and Alice walked swiftly out of the café, triggering the bell as they left.
Elias didn't watch them leave, perhaps signifying that he already has all the information he needs.
As they stepped outside the café the rain began.
"Oh what the fuck is this.." Alice said, sounding aggressive but in a joking way.
"Alright.. well with this being the weather I suggest we go and find somewhere else to eat, quickly." Mark started walking down the cobbled street, until he felt a hand grab his.
"What.. I thought you said you hated the rain." He said turning around to face...
Nobody.
'Huh.' Mark thought, wondering where Alice went.. No wait this couldn't be possible, he just felt someone grab his hand. That's when he saw it.
Hiding, above the grey clouds. Flesh was poking through the floating cotton. This flesh was pale. This flesh resembled an arm. An arm? It was trying to grab him. He needs to run. Then he could see its eyes, or could he? 'What is that?' He thought, his mind splintering at the horrific appearance of this looming mass of meat. Why won't he run? Its hand is nearing.
He could see the hand clearer now, each finger had been stitched together in a sloppy manner and this made Mark's stomach turn.
He knew that this was just a symptom, all he had to do was wait.. It'd be over soon.
'Right?'
The creature was more visible now, its body no longer obscured by the clouds. Regardless of whether this was a symptom or not.. Mark's head was contorting just trying to understand the sheer size of this thing.
'Was this one of the 'things' that Tom was going on about? Was he about to face judgement?'
The hand reached him, he felt it as it stroked his body until it made its way to his arm.
'Just stay still and shut your eyes.' He inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled.
The hand clasped his hand, it had shrunk in size. just a few seconds ago that hand would've easily crushed a skyscraper but now.. now it could hold his wrist.
His arm snapped.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" Mark screamed, ripping the hand off his wrist. He looked down at his wrist, there was now another mark next to the eye. It was a symbol from a language he had never seen before.
The marks began to glow. Searing his skin, making his body feel as if he had been thrown into a fire.
Then it stopped. The pain was gone however the mark remained. The creature was gone. His arm was no longer broken, however Alice's arm was.
She was sprawled out onto the floor, clutching at her bent wrist.
"What the fuck Mark, what the fuck is wrong with you.. you bitch!!" She writhed in pain letting out screams of agony.
"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean- I'll call an ambulance."
He had been in this situation before. The deja vu hit him again.
He dialled 999 and told the responder to send an ambulance. As he slid his phone back into his pocket, Mark noticed someone watching. Their umbrella was large. He squinted to get a better look at them just to be met by the horrifying reality, Elias was the man staring at them. He smiled and waved, his Rolex catching the light as he did so.
Mark had truly fucked up this time.