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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Thanks so much for all the reviews. Writing is fun, but getting reviews just mellows it that much more. Once again, thanks. Just a note of warning: This chapter contains graphic violence that might affect sensitive readers…well, what I consider graphic violence. So, be warned.
Chapter 8
Shoreview apartments
Jessie was staring into the darkness, the last rays of the setting sun illuminating the water in an oily dark blue color filtered with reddish tints. She sighed happily, and turned briefly when to door opened. Seeing her friend, she turned back to her spot, her eyes staring dreamily over the water.
“What man did you meet this time?” Her friend teased a smile evident in her voice. She was used to Jessie’s moods. Her friend fell in and out of love more times than she could count. Jessie never took it further, drawing a line but she knew that for the next few days she will stare dreamy eyed at the lake before moving towards her studio and start her painting.
“Talk, dark and handsome if you want to believe that.”
Her friend laughed, matching Jessie’s as she threw a pillow at her. “And where did this impromptu stranger appear.”
“The diner, of all places. I was walking along minding my own business, and wham, fate intervened.”
“Oh, you mean you literally bumped into the poor guy, probably spilling his coffee in the process.”
“Come on, it doesn’t generally happen that way.”
“Only most times. Jessie, I swear, you stake them out and then do that on purpose.”
Jessie pouted, her eyes twinkling in mischief.
“So, did you do your disappearing act, too?”
Jessie threw the pillow back and got up from the window seat. She made her way towards the kitchen, smiling at her friend.
“Gotta keep the mystery.”
Her friend followed her, leaning on the counter and watched as she prepared two mugs for coffee.
“What’s the stud’s name, or did you run away before he managed to utter one word.”
“He said his name is Jarod.”
Her back was to her friend’s while she started the kettle and she missed the sudden change in emotions.
“Say that again.” She turned, frowning, wondering why Emily was suddenly so pale.
“He said his name is Jarod. Why, do you know him?”
“He’s my brother.”
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Knight’s Inn, Blue water
Parker leaned against the headboard, the files spread over the bed. She had done some research, trying to find any connection that Davey had with the Centre. She was cut off from her usual research team and it frustrated her. She had been informed a little earlier by Lyle that she would only be able to contact Sydney or Broots by Tuesday at the earliest. There was nothing she could do about it, so she had decided to do some prelim work. What she had managed to find out was that Davey and the Brewster’s had been living in the Blue water area for the past year. The boy did well at school, but didn’t particularly stand out in the class. The teachers suspected the boy of holding back but the parents didn’t want any pressure put on Davey to do better. His parents were brutally murdered five days ago and the assailant who had done it was dead himself. According to the one police officer she had spoken to, the attacker had been tortured to death. He said that he had never seen a sight like that and when she saw the haunted look in his eyes she believed him. She thanked him, making her excuses before returning to the hotel room.
Her ringing phone interrupted her thoughts, and she answered it, irritated at the interruption.
“Sorry daddy, it’s been a long day.”
“Angel, why don’t you let Lyle handle that end and you come home for a bit.”
She frowned, wondering why her father was suddenly so concerned. “Jarod is here, daddy. I just need some time, but…”
“I understand, but I need you. I’ll let the pilot know, and you can fly back first thing tomorrow morning.”
Parker closed her eyes, her suspicion confirmed. Did they really think she was that stupid?
“Then let Lyle go home and let me stay here. I’m the one who is supposed to bring Jarod in. It’s my job.”
She heard the anger in her father’s voice when he replied. “I cannot protect you if you disobey me. Just do what I ask. Let Lyle handle that side and you come home.” His voice lowered, almost pleading, “Please Angel, do this one thing for me. I need you here.”
“I’m sorry, daddy but I’m staying.”
She closed the phone, tired of playing the Centre’s game and her father’s guilt trips. She’s staying, no matter what her father said. She had made her choice, and for now, finding Davey was more important.
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Mythos House, Michigan
The boy was finally asleep. Cain closed the door, locking it. He didn’t want to take chances and have Davey disappear before tomorrow. He still had this little nagging voice inside him, asking questions he didn’t want to answer.
He was tired. The past few nights had been long and he was looking forward to some sleep. Maybe that’s why Davey’s questions were affecting him so much. He knew that sleep was your friend, it protected you, helped you make clear and effective decisions. Go to long without it and the human body begins to shut down in the little things and it can, in the end, cost you your life.
He checked the perimeter, locking the house down until he was satisfied that all was secure. Only then did he take a shower before making his way to his bedroom. The stillness was suddenly broken by screams coming from Davey’s room. Cain stood there, in the hallway and contemplated leaving the boy to his nightmares.
He should start to live with it, he reasoned even as his feet were moving his body towards the boy’s room.
I had to learn to live with them.
He watched his hand open the door, while he debated going another night without proper sleep. Davey was crying, his small body huddled under the covers against the wall. He stepped closer, and then the speed of movement took him by surprise when Davey launched himself from under the covers, running the few steps and grabbing his hand and leg. Cain looked down at the tugging hand. Understanding dawned and he picked up the boy, holding him close. He could feel Davey’s heart beating against his own, fast and unsure next to his slow and steady drum.
“It’s ok.” He whispered, while trying to remember a time when he had been consoled.
His shirt where Davey’s head lay was wet with tears. He patted the boy on the back while taking a step towards the bed. The arms around him fastened even more and Davey whimpered.
“Please don’t let the bad man come.”
He took the boy out of the room towards his own. He knew that his mentor would be upset about it but he reasoned that it was more important that the boy was awake and ready tomorrow than sleepy and unresponsive. He put Davey in his own bed, tucking him tight. Davey kept hold of him, his hand scrunched into the boy’s chest. He watched the eyes close, the breathing deepen. Long past the time the boy had let his hand go; he kept it there, telling himself that it kept the nightmares away.
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Shoreview apartments
They were sitting in the dark, staring at the half moon that had risen. Emily had explained to Jessie that she and Jarod had been separated when she was small, that she had been searching for him for the past few years. She left everything out regarding the Centre and the real reason for Jarod’s disappearance. She didn’t want to put her friend’s life in danger.
“Why don’t we go to the diner tomorrow and see if he pitches up.”
Emily smiled at her friend’s naiveté. “With Jarod, it’s never that easy. He is probably long gone.”
“Naw, I don’t think so. It looked like he was pretty much settled in; the waitress recognized him when I bought him another cup.”
A drop of hope edged its way in. “Ok, why don’t you speak to your friend at the diner, see if he has any kind of schedule. Then we’ll see.”
“Deal.”
After that, they both stared out the window at the dark water that stretched out before them, sipping the warm coffee. And hoped.
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Mythos House, Michigan
“Don’t, Mr. Raines. I promise I’ll be good.”
The hand descended without remorse, slamming him sideways into the bed. He swallowed his tears, knowing that any signs of emotion will end up with more pain and more punishment. He stood up slowly, his small body riddled with bruises. His hand wiped at the blood that was dripping down his lip, leaving crimson streaks on his hand. Mr. Raines was watching him like a hawk, scrutinizing each action. He showed no fear, making his way to stand in front of his mentor.
“Tell me again why I shouldn’t let you starve to death.
He contemplated the question, mulling it over in his mind. His instinct to survive took over, providing the answer he had been looking for.
“I’m your left hand, your special project that will bring you power.”
Even at ten he had learned the correct answers to placate his volatile mentor. He held Raines’ gaze, not backing down. Raines smiled an evil smile, before ruffling his hair. “Good boy, you’re learning quickly.” He stood stoically, enduring the hand in his hair until the hand grabbed him and pushed his head back. Tears sprung in his eyes from the pain and he bit his lip in his effort not to cry out.
“You will obey without question, boy. Do you understand me?”
He managed to mumble an affirmative, his hands clenching next to his side. His body stood stiffly, waiting for Raines to let him go. His mentor pushed him away and he stumbled backwards before regaining his balance.
“Take the knife.”
His gaze went to the stainless steel table set by the door, the dull glitter of the knife shining back at him. He stepped forward, taking the knife into his small hand. It almost engulfed his hand, the handle to long for his child fingers. Raines gestured to the camera and the door slid open revealing a teenager hanging spread eagled from the ceiling. He was dirty, disheveled, his body shrunk from the drugs he had been pumping into his own body, his craving slowly killing him. The teenager’s eyes were desperate with need and fear, the sweat rolling down his body betraying his craving. He was gagged, the noises coming from him muted and intangible.
“Do it.”
He looked at Raines, his eyes locking briefly. No remorse shown from them, as Raines nodded towards where the other hangs.
“Do not let me repeat myself. You will be severely punished”
He pushed his emotions down further, telling himself that the teenager in front of him was dead anyways. He had studied what drugs do to the body; his mentor had made sure he understood how you could use it to subvert another, to get them to do what you wanted.
He stepped closer, his gaze on the torso area. He didn’t want to look in his eyes. His sweat sleeked fingers slipped on the knife and he changed hands to wipe it on his pants. He could hear the ever increasing pants from the body in front of him. He ignored it, ignored the fact that this was a living human being.
Raines had saved him; without Raines he would be the boy hanging before him.
He swallowed, glanced back once more before closing his eyes and stabbing forward. The warm gush of the other’s blood spilled over his hand, making the knife handle slick. He almost lost his grip as the stench from the other’s bowels hit him. He ignored the terror filled screams that was dulled by the gag, instead slicing upwards like Raines had shown him. The blood spurted over him, staining everything around him red.
Everything was red.
Red.
Red…
He gasped, his eyes staring into the darkness. His first kill. He rolled onto his side, his arms enfolding his torso to bring some comfort as he hugged himself. He didn’t want to remember. He tried to go back to his safe place, to place all his emotions back in the little box he had built for it. Tears was silently making their way down his face, dripping from his nose as gravity pulled it downwards. No sound escaped his sorrow. He tried to understand why he was feeling that way.
It was Davey’s fault.
He slowly sat up, still hugging his body. He had been fine until the boy arrived. His logic told him that his defenses were breaking down because he had allowed himself to become too personally involved. His tears were drying, his shivering finally bowing under his self control.
Raines will be coming in the afternoon. He would prep Davey for his meeting, and depending on what Raines decided will influence his own decision in the end. He didn’t want Davey to go through what he had managed to survive. Despite everything, he liked the warm fuzzy feeling the boy brought forward inside him. His emotions now fully under control, he lay back down. A small smile played on his lips for the first time in thirty years as he drifted back into sleep.
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Jarod’s apartment
He woke to softness underneath him. He kept his eyes closed, testing the surrounding area with his other senses. He was aware that he was shivering, that he was cold. He was colder than he had ever been in his life, from the inside out. He curled tight, hoping for some warmth. The movement was enough to remind him of the queasiness that had been there all along. It was all too much as the nausea made its way upwards and he stumbled from his bed to the toilet just in time. It forced its way past his throat into his mouth and he had to let it out or choke. He held onto the porcelain rim, retching long past the time there should have been anything to bring up. When it was finally over, he laid his head on the rim, shivering and feeling absolutely wretched.
What had Cox been pumping into his body?
He found some strength somewhere and made it to the basin. Rinsing his mouth, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
The Centre had his mother.
His stomach clenched again and he took quick deep breaths to try and stave off going back to the toilet again. Opening the cold water tap, he let the water flow over his head. It helped a little. He was still shivering, still cold but he could understand the reason behind it with a weird sense of detachment. He was in shock, trying to cope with what had been done to him.
We will get exactly what we want from you.
He wondered what he was capable of in order to protect his mother. If he was honest, he knew he would do anything to make sure she was safe. It didn’t matter that they had let him go, that he could leave this town, leave Davey to his kidnapper, escape and run. The Centre knew that no matter where he went, he will always return to them, return so that he can see his mother, even if it meant walking through the front doors of the Centre willingly. He swallowed the bitter taste of defeat. Maybe he can find a way of rescuing her, of finding his father to help him.
You will be watched constantly.
He closed the tap, only now aware of how long it had been running. He was still shivering, but he ignored his own comfort. Instead he started in the bathroom, methodically searching until he found the intrusion. The small camera had been so well camouflaged that if he had not specifically looked for it, he would never have found it. The queasiness returned.
You will be returned to your apartment.
How long have they been watching him, biding their time? Suddenly he understood the easiness of his break-inn at the Centre. The way he had been kept in the town because of Davey. The smirk of Cynthia when she stepped from the shadows at NuGenesis.
His ringing phone startled him. He made his way to his bedroom, grabbing his cell phone and answering it with a terse, "What."
"Remember that we are watching you, Jarod."
His anger flared, anger at being duped and anger that he had not even predicted the way the Centre had been steering him towards this point.
"How long have you been planning this?"
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
"This is a game, Jarod. And you're just a pawn. A vital one at that, but nothing more. Timelines do not concern you, only your part in the project."
Jarod slowly sank onto his bed, his hand supporting his head. "Why?"
“Why what, Jarod?”
“Why are you doing this?”
"Because we can."
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The Centre
Broots knocked before entering the dimly lit office. He found Sydney slumped over the desk, his head resting on his arms. He called the psychiatrist’s name and was rewarded when Sydney stretched and then blinked at him.
“Do you have it?”
“Part of it, but, uhm, Sydney…”
Sydney leaned back, watching the apologetic look on Broots. He stretched out his hand, wordlessly taking the DSA. He placed it in the case, hoping the reason why Broots was looking any where but at him was due to the stress of the lock-down and not what had been recorded.
He pressed the start button.
For Centre use only
Dr William Raines Private File
The grainy snow flake gradually disappeared to focus on a young boy huddled against a corner in the glass box. Raines stepped closer, ignoring the look of fear that spread as the boy begged not to repeat the sim. His hand rose, connecting solidly with Jarod’s face, swinging it to the side. Jarod sprawled into a messy tumble. A small hand came up, wiping at the hurt. He slowly sat up, his back defensively against the clear glass of the corner.
“Start again.” The raspy voice of Raines filled the room, echoing in the corners. Jarod shivered, his tears not even dry yet. The fear was palpable, in the way he scrunched into himself, making his body as small as possible. The glass top was replaced, incasing the small boy in the box. Then the lights went dark…
And the screen faded into blackness.
“That’s all I could get from the first segment. There’s two more but it’s going to take longer. I’m sorry Sydney, I…” Broots trailed of, unsure of what to say next. Sydney just stared at the screen, his hands gripped in tight fists. He waited till Broots left before playing the scene again, and again trying to remember back to when Jarod was small and afraid.
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Jarod’s apartment
Jarod took a long, hot shower. He wanted to wash the Centre’s stench from his body. He wanted to get rid of Cox’s words, his helplessness and the knowledge of what they wanted him to do. The salty taste of his tears flowed with the water that cascaded over his head, rinsing away his hope. He didn’t know what to do. Simulations ran through his head, discarded as soon as they arrived. His body continued to shiver, the cold had settled in his core. He thought he would never be warm again. His body was pink from the heat but still he decreased the cold water tap, ignoring the sting of the warm water.
What the hell had Cox given him?
When the water’s temperature decreased to lukewarm, he closed the tap. He draped a towel around his middle, making for his bedroom. What he needed first was an uncompromised phone. From there he can decide how he is going to proceed. Small steps, he thought, all solutions start with small steps.
Finally having made a decision, he dressed quickly; ignoring the cameras that he knew was there. He pushed the DSA case under his bed, wondering why Cox had left it. His laptop was gone but he had expected that. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need it. Locking his apartment behind him, he left for the station. The walk will do him good and he might in the process acquire a phone. Just one break, that’s all he needed. One break.
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Knight’s Inn, Blue water
She swore when the now familiar tin voice sounded in her ear, explaining that due to technical difficulties, the Centre would be off line until further notice. It was too much to hope for, to be able to use Broots’ skills in tracking any murders that had the same MO than the thief she might have a hope in finding a breadcrumb to where Davey might be held. Now she is going to have to do this the hard way. She checked her gun, making sure she had an extra clip in her side pocket.
It was time to shake up the lesser known areas of Blue water. She jammed a full clip in, determination edged into her face. It was time to find the truth.
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Blue water
Jarod saw his chance. He swerved to his left and bumped into the unsuspected man. His hand emerged from the other’s pocket as he apologized, palming the man’s cell phone. Sliding it into his own pocket, he again apologized before continuing down the road. All he needed to find now was a private spot so that he could make his phone call.
He was walking past an alley, when hands grabbed him from behind and maneuvered him into the small side passage. He started to resist when the now familiar hard muzzle of a gun punished him in the ribs. He was pushed further in, until they were screened from the street by the big garbage bins. He had no chance at even glancing at the face of the person who held him. He was pushed face first against the wall and held there by the other’s body weight, the gun reminding him not to move. A second person joined them, he could here the footsteps and then his world went dark as the hood slipped over his face. He struggled, not wanting the disadvantage that came with the darkness. He cried out when a hard jab to his kidneys brought with it numbness and agony all at once. He stopped struggling, just trying to ride the wave of pain.
He was turned, his back now against the wall. An arm pressed against his neck, cutting of his oxygen. He brought his hands up, clawing at the arm to bring some release. His hands were grabbed by the second person and held down at his side. He knew he had run out of air when his lungs started burning painfully. It was then that the arm shifted and the man leaned into his body.
“That was not a smart move.”
The cell phone he had palmed not a minute ago slid from his pocket. Jarod was still struggling to get much needed oxygen into his lungs. “You were warned that we would be watching you.”
His fear for his mother doubled. “P…please…I….”
A phone rang, and was answered by a gruff voice. Jarod stood still when the phone was pressed against his ear and the smooth voice of Cox rolled out. “I thought you were a genius, Jarod.”
He swallowed, ignoring the burning tears of frustration that was forming behind his closed lids.
“I can send you’re mother’s thumb if that will convince you of the seriousness of the situation. Will that be necessary, Jarod?”
“No.” he managed to choke out, his throat raw.
“Go to the station, search for Davey. Do everything that you normally do until you are let known otherwise. This will be your first and only allowed mistake. Any more and pieces of your mother will be arriving via FedEx. Am I clear?”
“Yes.”
“Let me speak to the person holding the phone.”
Jarod managed to whisper the command and felt the phone removed from his ear. He waited, hearing the terse answers that gruff voice was giving. He was then told to count to fifty before he was allowed to remove the hood. The man, who had held him, let him go and he slowly sank down the wall until he was seated, his knees drawn close to his body, his head resting on them. He heard their footsteps receding and because for the first time in his life he had no answer, he did as he was told and counted to fifty.
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Reviews are most welcome. Always.
Thanks so much for all the reviews. Writing is fun, but getting reviews just mellows it that much more. Once again, thanks. Just a note of warning: This chapter contains graphic violence that might affect sensitive readers…well, what I consider graphic violence. So, be warned.
Chapter 8
Shoreview apartments
Jessie was staring into the darkness, the last rays of the setting sun illuminating the water in an oily dark blue color filtered with reddish tints. She sighed happily, and turned briefly when to door opened. Seeing her friend, she turned back to her spot, her eyes staring dreamily over the water.
“What man did you meet this time?” Her friend teased a smile evident in her voice. She was used to Jessie’s moods. Her friend fell in and out of love more times than she could count. Jessie never took it further, drawing a line but she knew that for the next few days she will stare dreamy eyed at the lake before moving towards her studio and start her painting.
“Talk, dark and handsome if you want to believe that.”
Her friend laughed, matching Jessie’s as she threw a pillow at her. “And where did this impromptu stranger appear.”
“The diner, of all places. I was walking along minding my own business, and wham, fate intervened.”
“Oh, you mean you literally bumped into the poor guy, probably spilling his coffee in the process.”
“Come on, it doesn’t generally happen that way.”
“Only most times. Jessie, I swear, you stake them out and then do that on purpose.”
Jessie pouted, her eyes twinkling in mischief.
“So, did you do your disappearing act, too?”
Jessie threw the pillow back and got up from the window seat. She made her way towards the kitchen, smiling at her friend.
“Gotta keep the mystery.”
Her friend followed her, leaning on the counter and watched as she prepared two mugs for coffee.
“What’s the stud’s name, or did you run away before he managed to utter one word.”
“He said his name is Jarod.”
Her back was to her friend’s while she started the kettle and she missed the sudden change in emotions.
“Say that again.” She turned, frowning, wondering why Emily was suddenly so pale.
“He said his name is Jarod. Why, do you know him?”
“He’s my brother.”
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Knight’s Inn, Blue water
Parker leaned against the headboard, the files spread over the bed. She had done some research, trying to find any connection that Davey had with the Centre. She was cut off from her usual research team and it frustrated her. She had been informed a little earlier by Lyle that she would only be able to contact Sydney or Broots by Tuesday at the earliest. There was nothing she could do about it, so she had decided to do some prelim work. What she had managed to find out was that Davey and the Brewster’s had been living in the Blue water area for the past year. The boy did well at school, but didn’t particularly stand out in the class. The teachers suspected the boy of holding back but the parents didn’t want any pressure put on Davey to do better. His parents were brutally murdered five days ago and the assailant who had done it was dead himself. According to the one police officer she had spoken to, the attacker had been tortured to death. He said that he had never seen a sight like that and when she saw the haunted look in his eyes she believed him. She thanked him, making her excuses before returning to the hotel room.
Her ringing phone interrupted her thoughts, and she answered it, irritated at the interruption.
“Sorry daddy, it’s been a long day.”
“Angel, why don’t you let Lyle handle that end and you come home for a bit.”
She frowned, wondering why her father was suddenly so concerned. “Jarod is here, daddy. I just need some time, but…”
“I understand, but I need you. I’ll let the pilot know, and you can fly back first thing tomorrow morning.”
Parker closed her eyes, her suspicion confirmed. Did they really think she was that stupid?
“Then let Lyle go home and let me stay here. I’m the one who is supposed to bring Jarod in. It’s my job.”
She heard the anger in her father’s voice when he replied. “I cannot protect you if you disobey me. Just do what I ask. Let Lyle handle that side and you come home.” His voice lowered, almost pleading, “Please Angel, do this one thing for me. I need you here.”
“I’m sorry, daddy but I’m staying.”
She closed the phone, tired of playing the Centre’s game and her father’s guilt trips. She’s staying, no matter what her father said. She had made her choice, and for now, finding Davey was more important.
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Mythos House, Michigan
The boy was finally asleep. Cain closed the door, locking it. He didn’t want to take chances and have Davey disappear before tomorrow. He still had this little nagging voice inside him, asking questions he didn’t want to answer.
He was tired. The past few nights had been long and he was looking forward to some sleep. Maybe that’s why Davey’s questions were affecting him so much. He knew that sleep was your friend, it protected you, helped you make clear and effective decisions. Go to long without it and the human body begins to shut down in the little things and it can, in the end, cost you your life.
He checked the perimeter, locking the house down until he was satisfied that all was secure. Only then did he take a shower before making his way to his bedroom. The stillness was suddenly broken by screams coming from Davey’s room. Cain stood there, in the hallway and contemplated leaving the boy to his nightmares.
He should start to live with it, he reasoned even as his feet were moving his body towards the boy’s room.
I had to learn to live with them.
He watched his hand open the door, while he debated going another night without proper sleep. Davey was crying, his small body huddled under the covers against the wall. He stepped closer, and then the speed of movement took him by surprise when Davey launched himself from under the covers, running the few steps and grabbing his hand and leg. Cain looked down at the tugging hand. Understanding dawned and he picked up the boy, holding him close. He could feel Davey’s heart beating against his own, fast and unsure next to his slow and steady drum.
“It’s ok.” He whispered, while trying to remember a time when he had been consoled.
His shirt where Davey’s head lay was wet with tears. He patted the boy on the back while taking a step towards the bed. The arms around him fastened even more and Davey whimpered.
“Please don’t let the bad man come.”
He took the boy out of the room towards his own. He knew that his mentor would be upset about it but he reasoned that it was more important that the boy was awake and ready tomorrow than sleepy and unresponsive. He put Davey in his own bed, tucking him tight. Davey kept hold of him, his hand scrunched into the boy’s chest. He watched the eyes close, the breathing deepen. Long past the time the boy had let his hand go; he kept it there, telling himself that it kept the nightmares away.
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Shoreview apartments
They were sitting in the dark, staring at the half moon that had risen. Emily had explained to Jessie that she and Jarod had been separated when she was small, that she had been searching for him for the past few years. She left everything out regarding the Centre and the real reason for Jarod’s disappearance. She didn’t want to put her friend’s life in danger.
“Why don’t we go to the diner tomorrow and see if he pitches up.”
Emily smiled at her friend’s naiveté. “With Jarod, it’s never that easy. He is probably long gone.”
“Naw, I don’t think so. It looked like he was pretty much settled in; the waitress recognized him when I bought him another cup.”
A drop of hope edged its way in. “Ok, why don’t you speak to your friend at the diner, see if he has any kind of schedule. Then we’ll see.”
“Deal.”
After that, they both stared out the window at the dark water that stretched out before them, sipping the warm coffee. And hoped.
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Mythos House, Michigan
“Don’t, Mr. Raines. I promise I’ll be good.”
The hand descended without remorse, slamming him sideways into the bed. He swallowed his tears, knowing that any signs of emotion will end up with more pain and more punishment. He stood up slowly, his small body riddled with bruises. His hand wiped at the blood that was dripping down his lip, leaving crimson streaks on his hand. Mr. Raines was watching him like a hawk, scrutinizing each action. He showed no fear, making his way to stand in front of his mentor.
“Tell me again why I shouldn’t let you starve to death.
He contemplated the question, mulling it over in his mind. His instinct to survive took over, providing the answer he had been looking for.
“I’m your left hand, your special project that will bring you power.”
Even at ten he had learned the correct answers to placate his volatile mentor. He held Raines’ gaze, not backing down. Raines smiled an evil smile, before ruffling his hair. “Good boy, you’re learning quickly.” He stood stoically, enduring the hand in his hair until the hand grabbed him and pushed his head back. Tears sprung in his eyes from the pain and he bit his lip in his effort not to cry out.
“You will obey without question, boy. Do you understand me?”
He managed to mumble an affirmative, his hands clenching next to his side. His body stood stiffly, waiting for Raines to let him go. His mentor pushed him away and he stumbled backwards before regaining his balance.
“Take the knife.”
His gaze went to the stainless steel table set by the door, the dull glitter of the knife shining back at him. He stepped forward, taking the knife into his small hand. It almost engulfed his hand, the handle to long for his child fingers. Raines gestured to the camera and the door slid open revealing a teenager hanging spread eagled from the ceiling. He was dirty, disheveled, his body shrunk from the drugs he had been pumping into his own body, his craving slowly killing him. The teenager’s eyes were desperate with need and fear, the sweat rolling down his body betraying his craving. He was gagged, the noises coming from him muted and intangible.
“Do it.”
He looked at Raines, his eyes locking briefly. No remorse shown from them, as Raines nodded towards where the other hangs.
“Do not let me repeat myself. You will be severely punished”
He pushed his emotions down further, telling himself that the teenager in front of him was dead anyways. He had studied what drugs do to the body; his mentor had made sure he understood how you could use it to subvert another, to get them to do what you wanted.
He stepped closer, his gaze on the torso area. He didn’t want to look in his eyes. His sweat sleeked fingers slipped on the knife and he changed hands to wipe it on his pants. He could hear the ever increasing pants from the body in front of him. He ignored it, ignored the fact that this was a living human being.
Raines had saved him; without Raines he would be the boy hanging before him.
He swallowed, glanced back once more before closing his eyes and stabbing forward. The warm gush of the other’s blood spilled over his hand, making the knife handle slick. He almost lost his grip as the stench from the other’s bowels hit him. He ignored the terror filled screams that was dulled by the gag, instead slicing upwards like Raines had shown him. The blood spurted over him, staining everything around him red.
Everything was red.
Red.
Red…
He gasped, his eyes staring into the darkness. His first kill. He rolled onto his side, his arms enfolding his torso to bring some comfort as he hugged himself. He didn’t want to remember. He tried to go back to his safe place, to place all his emotions back in the little box he had built for it. Tears was silently making their way down his face, dripping from his nose as gravity pulled it downwards. No sound escaped his sorrow. He tried to understand why he was feeling that way.
It was Davey’s fault.
He slowly sat up, still hugging his body. He had been fine until the boy arrived. His logic told him that his defenses were breaking down because he had allowed himself to become too personally involved. His tears were drying, his shivering finally bowing under his self control.
Raines will be coming in the afternoon. He would prep Davey for his meeting, and depending on what Raines decided will influence his own decision in the end. He didn’t want Davey to go through what he had managed to survive. Despite everything, he liked the warm fuzzy feeling the boy brought forward inside him. His emotions now fully under control, he lay back down. A small smile played on his lips for the first time in thirty years as he drifted back into sleep.
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Jarod’s apartment
He woke to softness underneath him. He kept his eyes closed, testing the surrounding area with his other senses. He was aware that he was shivering, that he was cold. He was colder than he had ever been in his life, from the inside out. He curled tight, hoping for some warmth. The movement was enough to remind him of the queasiness that had been there all along. It was all too much as the nausea made its way upwards and he stumbled from his bed to the toilet just in time. It forced its way past his throat into his mouth and he had to let it out or choke. He held onto the porcelain rim, retching long past the time there should have been anything to bring up. When it was finally over, he laid his head on the rim, shivering and feeling absolutely wretched.
What had Cox been pumping into his body?
He found some strength somewhere and made it to the basin. Rinsing his mouth, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
The Centre had his mother.
His stomach clenched again and he took quick deep breaths to try and stave off going back to the toilet again. Opening the cold water tap, he let the water flow over his head. It helped a little. He was still shivering, still cold but he could understand the reason behind it with a weird sense of detachment. He was in shock, trying to cope with what had been done to him.
We will get exactly what we want from you.
He wondered what he was capable of in order to protect his mother. If he was honest, he knew he would do anything to make sure she was safe. It didn’t matter that they had let him go, that he could leave this town, leave Davey to his kidnapper, escape and run. The Centre knew that no matter where he went, he will always return to them, return so that he can see his mother, even if it meant walking through the front doors of the Centre willingly. He swallowed the bitter taste of defeat. Maybe he can find a way of rescuing her, of finding his father to help him.
You will be watched constantly.
He closed the tap, only now aware of how long it had been running. He was still shivering, but he ignored his own comfort. Instead he started in the bathroom, methodically searching until he found the intrusion. The small camera had been so well camouflaged that if he had not specifically looked for it, he would never have found it. The queasiness returned.
You will be returned to your apartment.
How long have they been watching him, biding their time? Suddenly he understood the easiness of his break-inn at the Centre. The way he had been kept in the town because of Davey. The smirk of Cynthia when she stepped from the shadows at NuGenesis.
His ringing phone startled him. He made his way to his bedroom, grabbing his cell phone and answering it with a terse, "What."
"Remember that we are watching you, Jarod."
His anger flared, anger at being duped and anger that he had not even predicted the way the Centre had been steering him towards this point.
"How long have you been planning this?"
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
"This is a game, Jarod. And you're just a pawn. A vital one at that, but nothing more. Timelines do not concern you, only your part in the project."
Jarod slowly sank onto his bed, his hand supporting his head. "Why?"
“Why what, Jarod?”
“Why are you doing this?”
"Because we can."
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The Centre
Broots knocked before entering the dimly lit office. He found Sydney slumped over the desk, his head resting on his arms. He called the psychiatrist’s name and was rewarded when Sydney stretched and then blinked at him.
“Do you have it?”
“Part of it, but, uhm, Sydney…”
Sydney leaned back, watching the apologetic look on Broots. He stretched out his hand, wordlessly taking the DSA. He placed it in the case, hoping the reason why Broots was looking any where but at him was due to the stress of the lock-down and not what had been recorded.
He pressed the start button.
For Centre use only
Dr William Raines Private File
The grainy snow flake gradually disappeared to focus on a young boy huddled against a corner in the glass box. Raines stepped closer, ignoring the look of fear that spread as the boy begged not to repeat the sim. His hand rose, connecting solidly with Jarod’s face, swinging it to the side. Jarod sprawled into a messy tumble. A small hand came up, wiping at the hurt. He slowly sat up, his back defensively against the clear glass of the corner.
“Start again.” The raspy voice of Raines filled the room, echoing in the corners. Jarod shivered, his tears not even dry yet. The fear was palpable, in the way he scrunched into himself, making his body as small as possible. The glass top was replaced, incasing the small boy in the box. Then the lights went dark…
And the screen faded into blackness.
“That’s all I could get from the first segment. There’s two more but it’s going to take longer. I’m sorry Sydney, I…” Broots trailed of, unsure of what to say next. Sydney just stared at the screen, his hands gripped in tight fists. He waited till Broots left before playing the scene again, and again trying to remember back to when Jarod was small and afraid.
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Jarod’s apartment
Jarod took a long, hot shower. He wanted to wash the Centre’s stench from his body. He wanted to get rid of Cox’s words, his helplessness and the knowledge of what they wanted him to do. The salty taste of his tears flowed with the water that cascaded over his head, rinsing away his hope. He didn’t know what to do. Simulations ran through his head, discarded as soon as they arrived. His body continued to shiver, the cold had settled in his core. He thought he would never be warm again. His body was pink from the heat but still he decreased the cold water tap, ignoring the sting of the warm water.
What the hell had Cox given him?
When the water’s temperature decreased to lukewarm, he closed the tap. He draped a towel around his middle, making for his bedroom. What he needed first was an uncompromised phone. From there he can decide how he is going to proceed. Small steps, he thought, all solutions start with small steps.
Finally having made a decision, he dressed quickly; ignoring the cameras that he knew was there. He pushed the DSA case under his bed, wondering why Cox had left it. His laptop was gone but he had expected that. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need it. Locking his apartment behind him, he left for the station. The walk will do him good and he might in the process acquire a phone. Just one break, that’s all he needed. One break.
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Knight’s Inn, Blue water
She swore when the now familiar tin voice sounded in her ear, explaining that due to technical difficulties, the Centre would be off line until further notice. It was too much to hope for, to be able to use Broots’ skills in tracking any murders that had the same MO than the thief she might have a hope in finding a breadcrumb to where Davey might be held. Now she is going to have to do this the hard way. She checked her gun, making sure she had an extra clip in her side pocket.
It was time to shake up the lesser known areas of Blue water. She jammed a full clip in, determination edged into her face. It was time to find the truth.
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Blue water
Jarod saw his chance. He swerved to his left and bumped into the unsuspected man. His hand emerged from the other’s pocket as he apologized, palming the man’s cell phone. Sliding it into his own pocket, he again apologized before continuing down the road. All he needed to find now was a private spot so that he could make his phone call.
He was walking past an alley, when hands grabbed him from behind and maneuvered him into the small side passage. He started to resist when the now familiar hard muzzle of a gun punished him in the ribs. He was pushed further in, until they were screened from the street by the big garbage bins. He had no chance at even glancing at the face of the person who held him. He was pushed face first against the wall and held there by the other’s body weight, the gun reminding him not to move. A second person joined them, he could here the footsteps and then his world went dark as the hood slipped over his face. He struggled, not wanting the disadvantage that came with the darkness. He cried out when a hard jab to his kidneys brought with it numbness and agony all at once. He stopped struggling, just trying to ride the wave of pain.
He was turned, his back now against the wall. An arm pressed against his neck, cutting of his oxygen. He brought his hands up, clawing at the arm to bring some release. His hands were grabbed by the second person and held down at his side. He knew he had run out of air when his lungs started burning painfully. It was then that the arm shifted and the man leaned into his body.
“That was not a smart move.”
The cell phone he had palmed not a minute ago slid from his pocket. Jarod was still struggling to get much needed oxygen into his lungs. “You were warned that we would be watching you.”
His fear for his mother doubled. “P…please…I….”
A phone rang, and was answered by a gruff voice. Jarod stood still when the phone was pressed against his ear and the smooth voice of Cox rolled out. “I thought you were a genius, Jarod.”
He swallowed, ignoring the burning tears of frustration that was forming behind his closed lids.
“I can send you’re mother’s thumb if that will convince you of the seriousness of the situation. Will that be necessary, Jarod?”
“No.” he managed to choke out, his throat raw.
“Go to the station, search for Davey. Do everything that you normally do until you are let known otherwise. This will be your first and only allowed mistake. Any more and pieces of your mother will be arriving via FedEx. Am I clear?”
“Yes.”
“Let me speak to the person holding the phone.”
Jarod managed to whisper the command and felt the phone removed from his ear. He waited, hearing the terse answers that gruff voice was giving. He was then told to count to fifty before he was allowed to remove the hood. The man, who had held him, let him go and he slowly sank down the wall until he was seated, his knees drawn close to his body, his head resting on them. He heard their footsteps receding and because for the first time in his life he had no answer, he did as he was told and counted to fifty.
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