Dean's Online Fiction

The Greater Darkness

Chapter 6

Geoffry had somehow hoped putting a nights rest behind him would provide the insights he needed. Unsurprisingly, his situation was no better upon waking.

Part of Geoffry wanted to disbelieve Venice, to believe that she had been lying about the disease, absolute the necessity of blood for his continued survival, but something told him that she was telling the truth.

It was almost as if I could read her thoughts. She was worried I would disbelieve her, amused at the fact that out of all the lies she has told me, this would be the thing I would choose to discount. Even over the amusement, I could still tell she was worried about the ramifications to her personally if I killed myself by overdosing on blood.

Getting himself out of bed and out the door was much harder than Geoffry had expected. Then again with all of my options for escape cut off, what do I really have left to motivate me to do anything? Obviously trying to avoid torture could be a form of motivator, but I don't think that it would really work long term. People need something to live for, the real question is whether I'll find something worthwhile, or if I'll become like Imastious and loose whatever small part of my humanity is left?

As Geoffry walked down the stairs and exited the building a simple, even elegant solution presented itself to him. I could always just end it, just take myself out of the equation.

Geoffry dismissed the idea almost immediately, only to then pause and wonder why it was so repulsive to him. Is it because it would be giving up, and doing so would run counter to my nature, or is it just because I'm too frightened?

Once again Geoffry found himself aimlessly wandering the shadowed, crowded streets as the sun made it's tired way down behind the skyline. Several miles later he realized that he'd stumbled into an area that looked very familiar.

This is where that church was, the first one. With the priest.

As Geoffry slipped through the dwindling crowds, he felt a sudden need to talk to the priest again. If anyone would understand what I'm going through, it would be him.

Arriving at the door Geoffry felt a premonition of doom. Everyone I've had even the briefest contact with has died, is Imastious really as all knowing as he says? If so I'm putting this man in danger by coming here.

Geoffry turned to walk away, but before he could complete the motion, the battered, black door before him opened to reveal a familiar, smiling face.

“Hello, my son. Please come in.”

Geoffry's mind spun for a second looking for an excuse. “I don't want to keep you late. I can come back later during your regular hours if that would be better.”

A pair of kindly eyes measured Geoffry for a moment before the older man responded. “I was headed home, but you have the look of someone who needs to talk, and nothing I have waiting for me there is more important than that.”

Almost despite himself, Geoffry followed the priest inside and joined him on one of the old wooden pews, which protested their presence with a tired creak.

“You have the look of someone that feels as though they have run out of options, who feels that they've been forced into a very bad situation.”

Geoffry was startled by the priests perceptiveness, but something about the man seemed to promise that he wouldn't betray a trust.

“I suppose that is how I feel.”

Geoffry waited, allowing the priest to interject a comment, but the man seemed content to simply listen.

“I find myself among very bad company. How I got there isn't important, but I am unable to escape, they know too much about me for that to be a possibility.”

The priest shifted slightly in his pew, almost as if he'd been about to interrupt but thought better of it.

“These people have done terrible things to me, and they will do worse things unless I kill a man for them.”

You don't understand what Imastious can do to me, the pain he can inflict.

When it became apparent that Geoffry wasn't going to continue the priest nodded slowly. “You do indeed find yourself in a difficult situation, one in which your courses of action are narrowed greatly from what most people experience.”

Geoffry felt a tiny flare of hope at the priest's words, not necessarily at their content, but rather the fact he'd finally been able to tell even the slightest amount of the truth to someone.

“I obviously do not know the full situation in which you find yourself, and even if you were to tell me all that you know, your own beliefs and perceptions would naturally make you a less than completely objective witness. Still, if we accept for a time that your beliefs are correct, you still have choices to make.”

Geoffry felt as though he should take offense at the priests words, but couldn't bring himself to do so.

“You could kill this man, possibly he is even a very bad man, but I think it's not for you or me to make that judgment. Alternatively, you could kill yourself. That is often something people consider when they feel like they have no other way out, but this also isn't a course I can condone. Finally, assuming you are correct in your assumption that you can't run, you could refuse to comply with the wishes of these evil people and endure whatever may happen next.”

As Geoffry finally opened his mouth to protest the old man held up a hand. “You always have a choice my son. Sometimes the choice is just not something that we are willing to do. I think that is what sets the truly righteous apart from the rest of us, they are so special exactly because they are willing to give anything for their beliefs, even their lives.”

“Why should I be forced to endure torture? Where is the justice in that?”

The priest sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Are you truly blameless with regards to the situation you find yourself in? It may be that you truly are, but I can think of few if any times in my own life where I didn't contribute in some small way to any bad situations in which I found myself.”

Geoffry wanted to protest, but there wasn't any way to know for sure what he might have done to merit Imastious' attention. His mind reaching wildly for a response that wasn't a lie, Geoffry allowed the silence to stretch out for several seconds. “I don't know what I believe, and even if I knew that, I don't think I'm one of those special people.”

The old man shrugged slightly in response. “The question of what to believe is one that has caused more debate, confusion, and even bloodshed than possibly any other thing in history. I can't tell you what to believe, but I can tell you that you'll find your beliefs piece by piece as you truly seek them with an open mind. They will fill you with light and warmth as you find them one by one until you've constructed the whole, and suddenly realize that you know how you should respond in any given situation.”

Geoffry felt a quiver build inside him, and as tears started to fill his eyes, he was at a loss to explain how he knew what the old man was saying was true.

The priest looked at Geoffry out of shiny eyes and smiled once again. “As to the second part of your statement, that is why you are here. That is why we are all here, to determine for ourselves whether or not we're special enough to do God's will once we find it.”

Geoffry stood up, his desire not to appear rude overcome by his need to escape the church and return to the streets where he could think.

As he fled the church the priest called out one last time. “He already knows what we will do, and has provided a way for each of us to overcome if we are willing, we're just here so we can find out for ourselves who we really are.”

Exiting the church, Geoffry took off at a fast walk to ensure that the priest wouldn't somehow follow him and try to continue their conversation.

How can what he said be true? How can letting Imastious torture me be just or good?

Geoffry crossed the street and headed east. How can I know whether or not any of this is true?

It was odd that Geoffry always seemed to seek refuge from his problems by walking the city, when his exertions had yet to yield any kind of positive result.

Maybe it is some kind of hold over from my previous life. Hard as it is to believe that anything would truly bother a soulless killer, maybe this is how I used to deal with things that I couldn't immediately resolve by killing them.

Geoffry was nearing one of the more run-down, dirty parts of the city now. He nearly turned away in an effort to stay out of such an unpleasant area, but realized that the garbage-filled streets matched his mood perfectly. The functioning lights were few and very far between, and there was an undeniable sense of movement in the dark corners between storefronts.

Several hours of wandering the area failed to lend any kind of clarity to his thoughts, and Geoffry was nearly at the point of turning around and heading back to his apartment, when a girl turned onto the street thirty or forty feet ahead of him.

Geoffry was puzzled at first by the way his attention kept drifting back to the girl until suddenly he realized that it was as if she was giving off a tangible aura of fear and desperation.

What could possibly be driving her out into the streets so late at night? Anyone with any sense at all has long since gone to bed.

The streets were nearly deserted save for occasional groups of teenage toughs, who were watching the slim figure walking ahead of Geoffry with an interest that made Geoffry want to vomit.

Without really considering why he was doing so, Geoffry quickened his step slightly so as not to fall any further behind the panic-stricken teenager.

Three blocks later the girl turned off into what was probably the only pharmacy still open for miles, and Geoffry slowed to a stop, questioning for the first time what he was doing.

Boisterous laughter from the other side of the street pulled Geoffry's thoughts back to the present, and he felt anger rush through him as he realized what the three young men intended.

The trio separated, taking up positions far enough from the pharmacy door that nobody inside would be able to see them, but close enough that they were cutting off the girl's possible routes of escape.

They'll wait until she is far enough away from the store to ensure that she can't retreat back inside, and then they'll jump her. As empty as the streets are, the odds of anyone passing by before they get her somewhere out of sight are near zero.

Geoffry felt himself start to shake as he realized that he was the girl's only chance to avoid being raped. I can't stop all three of them. Even if I somehow save her, Imastious will know what I did. He'll kill her to punish me.

The sound of a door opening brought Geoffry's eyes back to the pharmacy just in time to see the girl exit. Astonishment flowed through Geoffry like an electrical current, as he took in her wavy, dark hair and innocent face. It seemed impossible that the anachronistic figure from his dreams would be made flesh and dropped into the middle of the slums, but he couldn't argue with his eyes.

The realization that he knew this girl, that some piece of his past that hadn't completely been lost, made the decision for Geoffry and he found himself moving forward as the teenagers closed in on their target.

As soon as the girl was far enough away from the tiny store, the closest gang member struck, wrapping an arm around her while his free hand reached up to muffle any screams as he started dragging her back into the dark side street behind them.

Geoffry unconsciously moved with the effortless, gliding step that Venice had shown him such a short time before. As quiet as Geoffry was, he was surprised that either of the two toughs just now making it to the alley heard him.

“Get lost cracker, this ain't any of your business.”

The words barely registered to Geoffry, who seemed to almost be able to read the young man's mind. Words are useless. He'll fight as much for the thrill as for anything else.

As if on cue, the closest teen pulled out a switchblade and stepped towards Geoffry as his friend finally realized what was happening and started fumbling for a weapon of his own.

Still acting on little more than instinct, Geoffry raised his hands and realized he'd somehow drawn his katana. Against all common sense, the teen with the knife continued his attack against a better armed foe, only to lose his hand to the edge of Geoffry's weapon.

Another quick move and spray of blood, and the second teen went down, whatever weapon he'd been intent on drawing still concealed somewhere on his person.

A part of Geoffry was horrified by what he had just done, but the cold, mechanical part of him that was currently calling the shots simply confirmed the tow gangers were too far into shock to pose any kind of threat, and moved him deeper into the alley.

He can't have hurt her too badly, he hasn't had time to do anything yet.

A scuffling sound up ahead warned Geoffry a split second before the last teen stepped out from behind a dumpster, a revolver held to the girl's shaking temple.

“Get back Whitey or I'll burn her down.”

Geoffry once again felt the urge to be sick as he thought about what a .357 hollow point would do to the unblemished face looking at him with terror that bordered on insanity. Only the understanding that the fear was coming from the gang member as much as from the girl protected his fragile bubble of calm.

“You could do that, it is undeniable that regardless of what I do you have time for one shot. If you kill her though you'll die. You'll never have time for a second shot before I remove your shaved head from your shoulders.”

Watching the desperate face behind the gun, it was as if Geoffry could read the youth's mind. You know I'm right. You have to either kill me or try and work a deal for your life. Unfortunately the only thing you've learned in twenty years in this hell hole is that backing down is a sign of weakness that those around you will use as an excuse to kill you.

Geoffry opened his mouth to try and reason with the teen, only to somehow sense the younger man come to a decision. Instincts suddenly took over, and Geoffry found himself hurtling towards the ground without any clear reason why he was doing so.

A large crack destroyed the silence and further confused Geoffry about the time his body converted the fall into some kind of roll. Fragments of brick rained down behind him as he regained his feet and struck out with his sword.

Once again blood sprayed through the air covering Geoffry and the girl in a sticky mist as the revolver hit the ground. By the time Geoffry's mind caught up with what was happening, the gang member was on the ground, dead from a gaping hole in his neck, and Geoffry was once again fighting the urge to be violently ill.

I can't be sick yet. Need to make sure she's ok.

The girl met Geoffry's eyes when he looked at her, but she'd gone extremely pale. Even as he watched, she started to shake with a intensity that was as worrying as it was surreal. “The medicine. It fell when he grabbed me.”

As Geoffry started to ask what she meant, the girl's eyes abruptly fluttered, and she started to collapse. It was all that Geoffry could do to catch her with one arm without accidentally stabbing her with his sword.

Geoffry carefully lowered the girl to the ground so that he could sheath his weapon only to stop as he realized he was forgetting something.

Have to clean it first. Have to figure out what she was talking about.

Five minutes latter Geoffry found a small paper bag that looked too clean to have been in the trash-filled alley long, and returned to where he'd left the girl.

What could have driven her outside at such a dangerous time? She's wearing a tank top and some faded cotton shorts, she must have jumped out of bed, pulled on some tennis shoes and a jacket, and then ran out to go to the pharmacy.

Staring at the bloody face before him, Geoffry realized that the 'girl' was probably actually in her late teens. She's just small enough to pass for someone much younger. Not only is she not as young as I originally thought, she also isn't the girl I remember from my dreams. Her hair is shorter. Also there are subtle differences between the two-something in the shape of her mouth, and the positioning of her cheek bones. I should have known she couldn't really be someone from my past life, it was probably some kind of delusion, after all what possible use could a murderer have for a young girl.

Slightly frustrated by the revelation that he wasn't any closer to unraveling the blank slate of his past, Geoffry turned to the small package he'd been holding. The generic plastic containers had obviously been purchased at the drug store, but the unfamiliar names on the prescriptions didn't provide any further clues as to why she'd taken such risks to obtain them.

Some kind of addict maybe? That might explain the stupidity. There is an address here. If she really is a druggie it probably isn't real, but I can't leave her here. I'll have to at least try it.

It wasn't until after Geoffry had lifted the girl up onto his shoulder and started off that he realized how suspicious he looked. Even in this town, people aren't going to just let someone walk around carrying an unconscious girl without doing something.

Geoffry stuck to the shadows as much as possible, checking both ways before hurrying across lighted areas, but was still only half way to his destination when he heard voices approaching.

Too late to run. Have to hide and hope for the best.

Carefully lowering his passenger to the ground, Geoffry knelt down next to her and did his best to disappear into the slice of shadow he'd found. Stay completely motionless, if you pretend like you are invisible, you are nearly as hard to see as if you truly are invisible.

As the trio of individuals ahead got closer, Geoffry felt his insides tighten up to the point where he had the beginnings of a headache. The trio that rounded the corner and stepped into Geoffry's field of vision were all male twenty somethings who'd obviously just finished up with a night of clubbing, or some other form of entertainment involving plenty of alcohol. They joked and stumbled into each other with the kind of abandon only achieved by the truly drunk. The next few seconds as first one, then another of the partiers glanced in his direction without seeing him, seemed to stretch into hours.

As the last of the three started to turn onto another side street, the girl at Geoffry's feet abruptly thrashed as if in the throes of some nightmare, sending nearby garbage banging into the dumpster beside them.

The sound was so obviously artificial that even a drunk had to realize something was hiding behind the dumpster. Geoffry's fears were confirmed when he looked up and saw a pair of bleary eyes staring directly at him with an intensity that had been missing from the casual glances aimed his way previously.

You don't see anything, just turn and walk away, I don't want to be forced to silence you, but I've done much worse than that already tonight, just turn around.

The pressure inside Geoffry's mind ratcheted higher in lockstep with his fear, and then suddenly the man turned and staggered away humming something unrecognizable as he tried to catch up with his friends.

Geoffry looked down to check on the girl, and felt an incredible sense of relief when he saw she was unharmed, but still unconscious. The breath that Geoffry hadn't realized he was holding escaped his lungs in a quiet burst that seemed to take all of his energy with it, and it was several minutes before he was able to regain his feet and continue the journey to the address listed on the prescription.

The last few blocks of the trip passed uneventfully, and Geoffry quickly found himself standing before one of the more run-down projects he'd yet seen. Amazingly enough, the lock on the front door still worked, and Geoffry was momentarily worried until he found a set of keys in the girl's jacket that allowed him entry.

At least I won't have to destroy the lock. This is probably the only project in the whole city with a front door that works.

The thought of the look on some poor resident's face as the elevator doors opened to reveal a menacing, blood-covered man and an unconscious teen was actually humorous in a morbid sort of way, but not sufficiently so for Geoffry to risk it actually happening, so he took the fifteen flights of stairs.

Of course if I'd realized how hard it was going to be to carry someone, even someone so light, all this way I might have reconsidered. I can't believe how tired I am, maybe it is a normal reaction to being in a fight for one's life. If I can figure out a way to ask Venice about it without tipping my hand regarding tonight's events maybe I can find out if exhaustion is to be expected.

The door to apartment 15B proved to be a graffiti-covered monstrosity with three deadbolts that stood out not at all from the rest of the doors in the halfway. As Geoffry turned his borrowed keys in each of the locks, he suddenly became nervous that he'd open the door and be confronted by one or more angry parents.

No way to avoid it though. I can't leave her out here, I'll just have to deal with whatever happens, and see if I can't try to avoid staining what is left of my soul by hurting anyone else.

The apartment proved to be nearly as bad off as the exterior door. It isn't that things aren't clean and tidy, but paint is peeling off of the walls, the furniture is old enough it's starting to fall apart, and the floors have all seen better days.

Geoffry looked around, and then picked one of the two bedrooms at random and carried his charge over to it. The room obviously belonged to a teenage girl. A large picture collage, obviously from some of the more popular fashion magazines took up most of one wall. The tiny desk, and its contents drew Geoffry's gaze next. The large diary stationed prominently in the center of the writing surface seemed to give the only other clue to the girl's passions. Rather than the pink, frilly thing that Geoffry would have half expected, it was a somber, hardbound affair with dark blue covers.

As tired as Geoffry was, his first impulse was to lay the girl down on her bed. Of course as bloody as she is, that's about the worst idea I could have come up with.

The floor looked like it was finished with something that would clean up relatively easily, so Geoffry carefully set his charge down there.

The vampire momentarily hesitated as he tried to come up with a plan to clean the girl up other than the most obvious course of action.

There really isn't any other option. At least not one that allows her to wake up without finding herself covered in blood. This way maybe she'll chalk everything up as a nightmare and not be traumatized for life.

The thought of the girl waking up bloody and shaken from an attempted rape filled Geoffry with sadness. The vampire wasn't sure how long he sat staring at the girl, but finally the pain in his head and his rapidly-increasing exhaustion pulled him back to the present.

Geoffry reached back down to the girl and then realized that his hands were still covered with blood. The nausea that had been suppressed by the need to get the girl home suddenly came back full force, and Geoffry found himself nearly running to the tiny bathroom.

Keep it under control, you can't afford to wake her family up.

Cleaning his hands as well as he was able on one of the cleaner parts of his shirt, Geoffry decided to carefully investigate the remaining bedroom.

Sound tactical thinking, but be honest with yourself, you're more interested in delaying what comes next.

Padding over to the mostly closed door, Geoffry peered into the room and felt his heart drop and tears start to well up in his eyes.

Now I know what would drive someone out into the night against all better judgment and common sense.

The shabby-but-orderly room was slightly larger than the girl's, but crowded as it was with medical equipment, it felt infinitely smaller. Most of the floor space was taken up by a large hospital style bed. The little bit of room remaining had been divided out among a number of monitors that seemed to be keeping track of everything from blood pressure to heart rate and a number of things in between that Geoffry had no idea how to interpret.

Lying in the bed, her tiny form nearly swallowed up in it's white vastness, was the thinnest woman Geoffry had ever seen.

As Geoffry's gaze finally came to rest on the poor woman, he dropped to his knees. Pain. She's in so much pain. No way I could know that, no reason I should feel it as my own. How do I know she's being kept heavily sedated, her mind is slowly rotting away under the harsh tide of chemicals that sustain this pale shadow life.

His hand held against his head, Geoffry slowly backed out of the room, and pulled the door closed, unconsciously sighing in relief when the pain started to recede enough to begin thinking again.

Is it just the two of them here? There aren't beds for anyone else. Perhaps someone comes by regularly to care for the mother, but still what kind of a burden would watching your mother waste away place upon one that is little more than a child?

Secure in the knowledge that nobody was going to be waking up and coming out to investigate any strange sounds, Geoffry stopped off at the little bathroom and cleaned the blood from his hands and arms.

I suppose there really isn't anything else I can do to stall. Time to give her back as much of a normal life as I'm able.

Trying not to feel like a pedophile, Geoffry returned to the bedroom and stripped off the girl's tank top and shorts. Keeping his eyes averted as much as possible from the pale skin he'd just uncovered, Geoffry sponged her arms and legs clean and then set about searching for replacement clothing that looked like it might pass for pajamas. The dresser in the corner finally provided another pair of shorts with the tattered remnants of some kind of logo across the butt, and another equally-faded tank top that looked like it had seen better days.

Once the girl was properly covered, Geoffry picked her back up and placed her under the covers of her bed, all the while trying not to think about how Venice, with her goddess-like beauty, hadn't kindled even a fraction of the desire he'd just felt.

It's just a reaction to everything else that's happened tonight. You're a murderer, but you aren't a rapist.

Seeking some kind of distraction from his wildly spiraling thoughts, Geoffry once again spied the girl's diary. Carefully penned on the first page were words that seemed to draw Geoffry's eyes as if of their own volition.

The room suddenly seemed to close in. Geoffry found himself fleeing from the apartment, only barely able to remember locking the door behind him.

I've killed her. Her mother too. Imastious will find out and he'll kill them both.