Jeff the Killer rewrite

Jeff lay in the hospital bed, facing the wall. White wallpaper, covered in pictures of bears. 153 of them, to be exact.

He heard the door open. He listened: here was a new sound, different from the beep-beep-beep of whatever machine was behind him, the swish-swish of wind rustling through the curtains, the creak of the building settling.

He heard the footsteps of two people entering the room. Lucky bastards. They walked in, talking, and looking out the window like it meant nothing. Of course it meant nothing to them.

That window. He’d been unconscious when they brought him here, and woken up in the bed in the same place he was now, facing the wall. From the sound of the wind, he knew it was always open, and covered by curtains. Yet he knew nothing about what lay beyond it. Was the weather sunny, or cloudy, or rainy, or had the sun exploded? For all he knew, he could be traveling away from Earth at the speed of light aboard a flying saucer.

Yet something in the back of his mind told him that it’d just be more of Ornesburg. Fuck Ornesburg. He’d been here for less than a month and already his father was dead, Liu was in Juvie, and his main goal in life was to look out of a window.

Returning to reality, Jeff listened to the doctors. He knew their voices; he’d seen the actual doctors earlier. The deeper voice belonged to the doctor who’d talked to Jeff’s mother, after that first skirmish with Randy. Dr. McSomething-or-Other. The other voice, with a hint of a Texan accent, belonged to Dr. Smith. Jeff had not seen him before, but other doctors had spoken of him often. Always with reverence.

“Poor kid,” Dr. Smith was saying. “The bottle hit him in possibly the worst place imaginable. I’d put the chances at less than one in one million that he wakes up. Even if he does, it’s impossible that he’ll escape quadriplegia. And they still want to keep him alive?”

“Yes. I’ve discussed the situation with his mother and stepfather a million times. The mother still hopes for a miracle, that someday young Jeffrey here will wake up. Quite sad, really.”

“Yet a common reaction, and an understandable one.”

A glimmer of hope arose in Jeff’s heart. Here was proof that his mother still cared him. That she’d try to keep him alive.

But of course, she only wants to keep you alive to torture you. To force you to look at those 153 bears every day, unable to move your head. To keep you in your place.

Jeff tried to drown out that voice in his brain, but it screamed louder than before. Was this what schizophrenia felt like?

Anyway, Jeff, there are only two directions your life can take from here. Either you die, or you lose your mind and die.

God, how he hated that thought.

***
153 bears.

153 cartoon bears.

They were drawn (painted?) in the style of Winnie-the Pooh. Likely inspired by Winnie. Some were lazily eating honey from pots. Some were sleeping. Some were walking across the blankness of their background.

Sometimes Jeff imagined one eating Randy, Troy, and Keith. What else could he do, bound to his bed? Randy, or Troy, or Keith would appear on the wallpaper, and a bear would waddle over and swallow them whole. And then Jeff would blink, Randy/Troy/Keith would be gone, and the bear would be its stupid smug self once again.

Another thing he did to try to keep his sanity was daydream. Sometimes he’d have great adventures, saving damsels in distress. Sometimes he would be trapped in a dystopia, joining the rebels and overthrowing the dictator. Occasionally, Jeff would daydream about his past life. His best and darkest memories. All he knew.

He’d been born in Akers Hill, your typical suburb of your typical large American city. His father, Peter, worked at an engineering firm. His mother Margaret stayed at home. One year after the birth of Jeff, Jeff’s brother Liu was born. Peter had named Liu after his grandfather.

In many ways, Jeff was your average student: decent grades, enough friends, decent looks. Liu had distinguished himself by his love of machines: in third grade, he’d built a Lego robot that had jumped out of Mrs. Hazelton’s drawer when she opened it. After a long trip to the principal’s office, he was the most popular kid in the class. That didn’t last long, and soon he was only that kid who was good with machines.

When he was 14, Jeff’s father disappeared. He had been driving home on a Friday afternoon, tired after a long week of work. The police found his car by the side of the road. He’d pulled over to take a picture of an animal, the family was told.

Margaret decided to leave the area for somewhere safer. The town she chose was Ornesburg. Like many small towns throughout the world, Ornesburg was once a picturesque little town until it was engulfed by the growth of the nearby metropolis. When Jeff, Margaret, and Liu arrived, the town consisted of a main street of ancient buildings surrounded by a sea of strip-mall hell.

Margaret surprised her children by choosing a house in a wealthier neighborhood than they had lived in before, despite her lack of a job and husband. The reason soon became clear: Mike. Margaret introduced him to Jeff and Liu in Akers Hill as a friend from college, yet it was obvious to Jeff and Liu that they had been more than friends. They married only a week after Margaret’s arrival in Ornesburg.

It was every child’s least favorite day of summer: Labor Day. Jeff and Liu spent the day unpacking the last of the boxes and helping Mike move in. It soon became clear that Mike only tolerated the children for the sake of Margaret: when Margaret left to pick something up from a friend’s house, Mike treated the children like slaves. He sat in a deckchair in the back yard, yelling at the children. At one point, he almost hit Liu when Liu handed him the wrong type of cigarette.

It had been arranged that Jeff and Liu would take the school bus to school on most days, but Margaret would drive them on the first day to drop off some forms. Jeff and Liu packed their backpacks and sat in the back seat of the car. They amused themselves by playing with Liu’s latest invention: a robot, about half a foot tall, made of the cardboard from the boxes. It took three steps if you turned a crank.

Ornesburg School was, in many ways, a perfect representation of Ornesburg. The original one-room schoolhouse had been built in the 1800s, and a plaque boasted that the original school building was still used as the administration office. Yet none of the original pupils could have foretold the wings of the building: as Ornesburg became a bigger town, countless extensions had been made. The entire western half of the building looked like it had been designed at the height of the space age, by an alien whose only impression of Earth architecture was Tomorrowland. The result gave the impression of a concrete alien sea serpent eating an old building for breakfast- along with a green omelet: why did they think that shade of yellowish-green was a good color for pavement?

“What a beautiful building!” said Margaret, somehow unaware of its hideousness.

“What a beautiful reminder of one architect losing their sanity, circa 1968.” Jeff thought.

***

Back in the hospital bed, a noise disrupted Jeff’s reverie.

Ka-kaw! Ka-kaw!

Crows.

Ka-kaw! Ka-kaw!

He tried, as best he could, to return to the dream.

***

Jeff and Liu walked into the school. It looked almost as ugly from the inside as it did from the outside.

Ka-kaw!

Jeff and Liu checked their timetables. The bell rang.

“History. Room 592a.” Jeff said.

“Ka-kaw!” Liu.

“Well, goodbye then,” Jeff said, before joining the army of students that had materialized in the hallway.

The History teacher was a short, fat man. It was obvious that he was trying his hardest to teach, but he was fighting a losing battle against the students at the far corner. There were three especially distracting ones.

One boy was tall and thin, and his neck seemed to be fastened at an odd angle: it gave him the appearance of an absent-minded man staring into space, or maybe a musician so absorbed in his work that he loses sight of his surroundings.

The second was the fattest person his age Jeff had ever seen. Folds of fat covered the chair he was sitting on. From where he sat, Jeff could see that inside his backpack was an abundance of chocolate bars: he was just finishing one of then at that moment. He tossed the wrapper on the floor.

The third seemed to be the leader of the three. His expression alone told Jeff that this kid believed he was more important than everyone else. He sat with his phone on his lap and a massive grin on his face. From the way kids around him were looking at the phone, Jeff guessed that the kid was watching porn.

The strange thing was that, while the teacher snapped at other students for smaller things, those three kids were never even acknowledged. I guess he’s just given up on them, Jeff realized.

Despite the three kids, he tried his best to listen to the words of the teacher, who was talking about the history of Ornesburg. However, the man had an incredibly dull and monotonous voice, and Jeff only remembered one sentence in the teacher’s run-on-sentence-riddled speech.

“And this is a fascinating anecdote in our glorious history, and old Jedediah Orne, the week of his death, and, and, and, and…” Jeff fell asleep.

Ka-kaw! Ka-kaw!

The behavior of the three students continued through the rest of the day. Those three students would mess around in the back row, and the teacher would not care.

***

At the end of the day, Jeff and Liu walked to the bus. The doors opened, they walked in, and sat together in a seat near the middle of the bus.

Liu reached into his backpack.

“Hey, see this!” he said.

He pulled out some sort of device. It consisted of a plastic box, covered in wires and paperclips. On opposite ends of the plastic box was a small strip of metal.

“What does it do?” Jeff said.

“Yeah, what does it do?” said a voice behind him.

The three troublemakers from History stood on the seat behind him.

“Hello!” said the one who seemed to be their leader. “Welcome to Ornesburg. My name’s Randy, and these are Troy and Keith. Now whaddya think this thing does?”

Randy’s voice sounded like what Jeff imagined a pig would sound like, if pigs could talk.

The tall kid- Troy- reached down and grabbed the device from Liu.

“Give it back.” Liu said, in his best attempt at an assertive tone.

“Interesting.” Troy said, ignoring Liu. Troy put his fingers on the metal strips. “Such a shame it would be if this broke.”

“Don’t do that!” Liu said. He seemed worried.

Other kids had heard Troy and Liu arguing. Some were kneeling on their seats and watching the fight.

“Too bad!” Troy said

Troy pressed the metal strips. Jeff had to give Liu credit: the device was far stronger than he had thought. Troy didn’t even make a dent.

Troy opened his mouth to say something. What he said, however, will never be known, since at that moment he was hit by enough electricity to kill an insect. His face went white, his hair stood up, and he started screaming like a little girl.

“I did warn you.” Liu said.

Everyone, even Randy and Keith, was laughing. Except Troy.

“Fuck you.”

***

Jeff and Liu walked off the bus and through the front door of their new home.

“How was school?” asked Margaret.

“Good”

The phone rang and Margaret and Liu left the room.

“Hey, Liu, can you get me a beer from the fridge?” Mike said.

“I’m Jeff.”

“I’m not good with names. Now shut up and get me that damn beer.”

That night, Jeff and Liu could not sleep. Jeff lay in bed, reading a book.  He was distracted, however, from a sound coming from the corner.

Liu was crying.

Jeff walked over.

“I want Dad back.” Liu whispered.

A tear began to form at the edge of Jeff’s eye.

“Me too.”

***

Ka-kaw! Ka-kaw!

***

 Jeff’s mind returned to that fateful second day of school.

Jeff and Liu walked to the bus stop, got on the bus, and awaited with dread the arrival of Randy, Troy, and Keith. He expected the worst when the three entered, but to Jeff and Liu’s relief they simply talked amongst themselves.

When the bus stopped, Jeff and Liu opened the doors and started walking to class. However, they were stopped by Randy.

“Hey. Lin. Like your electric thingy back?”

“Liu. Yes.”

“You know where the time capsule is?”

“I saw it yesterday.”

“Lunch.”

***
The dream was interrupted again, this time by an opening door.

“Kids these days…”

Dr. McSomething-or-Other.

Someone else entered the room.

“What a waste.”

Dr. Smith.

Dr. Smith leaned over the bed.

A spark seemed to go off in Jeff’s brain. For the first time since he’d been brought here, he was seeing the face of another human.

Jeff guessed that Dr. Smith was in his fifties. He had grey hair, tinged with the occasional streak of brown. His eyes had the world-weary look of a veteran, or a doctor who has seen too many patients die. Jeff suspected the latter.

Suddenly Jeff had an idea. He began blinking furiously.
Dr. McSomething-or-Other saw movement, and took a step closer to Jeff. “He’s blinking!” he said with hope in his voice.

“Don’t get your hopes up, George. This often happens in coma patients. He’s likely having something along the lines of a nasty nightmare.”

What? No!

Jeff began blinking again. Three quick blinks, followed by three slow blinks, then three quick blinks again. SOS.

Dr. Smith didn’t notice.

Damn him.

***

At lunch, Liu found Jeff and asked him to go to the time capsule with him.

They reached the time capsule: it was located far past the back of the school, near the storage rooms Any further from the school, and a cop legally had the right to arrest them for truancy. After a minute or two of waiting, the three appeared. Keith held Liu’s device in his palm. Randy held a cardboard box in his hand. Troy, to Jeff’s amusement, was trying to stay as far away from Liu and the device in Keith’s hands as he could.

“So. You like puzzles?” Randy said.

“Yes…” Liu replied awkwardly.

“Here’s a simple puzzle.” he said, opening the box. Inside was a metal cylinder. It was completely smooth except for the number 1745, carved into the bottom.

“What does the number mean?” Jeff asked.

“Date. Now, your job is to solve this. Makes a good IQ test. If you win, you get the electric thingy back.” Randy handed it to Liu.

Jeff wasn’t sure what to think about Randy. Yes, Randy and his gang were morons. Why, then, did he give Liu this puzzle? From the way Liu struggled with it, it looked pretty hard. Jeff doubted he’d be able to solve it. Why, then, did Randy have it in the first place? He didn’t look like the sort of person who found puzzles fun or worthwhile. Why would Liu need to solve it, then, to get the device back?
Then it hit Jeff: once he opened it, somehow, something nasty was hidden inside it. This way, Liu would look stupid no matter what. If he did open it, he’d have red dye or perfume or whatever the gang had thought of on his clothes for the rest of the day. If not, it looked pretty big: Randy could hit him with it. Jeff wanted to warn Liu, but who knew how Randy would react.

“Ah well. Liu’s smart. He won’t fall into that trap…” Jeff thought.

To Randy, Keith, and Troy’s surprise, Liu solved it after five minutes.  The top of the cylinder unscrewed if it was held at a certain angle. Inside, there was a small key about the size of Liu’s thumb.

Keith may have been fat, but he grabbed it the second he saw what it was. “Probably comes from years of grabbing sweets from other people,” Jeff thought cynically.

“Okay. I won. Now can I have the buzzer back?” said Liu.

To Jeff’s surprise, Keith handed it back without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hey. Liu. Good job.” Randy.

“Thanks.”

“Liu. Jeff. Like to hang out after school? Meet me at the park at 6:30. Bring a bike.”

Jeff thought about this offer. If nothing else, it would get them away from Mike for a while.

“OK.” Liu said, before he had a chance to answer.

***

Why were you so stupid?

“Shut up.”

I’m only a mere figment of your imagination. Make me shut up.

“...”

Ka-kaw! ka-kaw!

***

As Randy, Troy, and Keith were leaving, Jeff took a closer look at the time capsule.

It was embedded in the ground, covered by a square stone slab. The writing on the stone was almost faded, but Jeff could just make out words.

“To be Opened on the Twenty-Seventh Day of the year of our Lord…”

There had clearly been more, but it had been chiseled off with a sharp tool at some unknown date.

***

“...”

***

The five met that afternoon in the park. Silently, they mounted their bikes and started riding.

The school couldn’t have been more than two kilometres away, but road construction forced the five boys to detour and cross a bridge. When they reached the school, the last sliver of sun had almost disappeared behind the swaying pines. Randy, Troy and Keith turned their flashlights on and walked to the back of the school.

When they reached the time capsule, Randy kneeled on the ground.

“Troy. Key? Matches?”

“Here.”

Randy lit a match. All five gasped.

In the centre of the time capsule, where there had only been weathered stone, was a very modern-looking keyhole.

“What the-?”

Before they could do anything, they heard the sound of sirens behind them.

“Cops. Fuck.”

Ducking and weaving, the five ran back to their bikes. Powered by adrenaline, they hopped on their bikes and pedaled as fast as they could through the milky dark.

Jeff, having little knowledge of the streets, soon became lost. When he could no longer hear the cops, he stopped.

Breathing heavily, he turned the flashlight off. As his heart rate stabilized and his breathing became quieter, he became aware of a wheezing sound nearby. Risking capture, he decided to investigate.

Keith was lying facedown in a ditch.

After the initial adrenaline rush, Jeff moved Keith onto his back. Not an easy task.

He was obviously breathing, but was clearly in a bad way. He seemed to be unconscious. His arm was bent at an awkward angle, and blood was seeping from a hut on his head into his mouth. Jeff searched Keith’s pockets for a cellphone to call 911 with. Nothing. Before he could think of anything else to do, he heard a noise in the distance.

Sirens.

Instinctively, he hopped on the bike and sped off into the darkness, without a thought for Keith. After several turns down sketchy sideroads, his escape plan was ruined by a large hedge, which he failed to see.

Lying on the ground next to the crashed bicycle, Jeff prepared himself for the worst when he heard the car.

“Need a ride?” said the driver.

Mike.

Jeff awkwardly stood up, and opened the car door. Mike put the bike in the trunk.

“Liu!”

***

“Liu. Liu Woods.”

Dr. McSomething-or-Other.

“Poor parents. The eldest son in a coma and the youngest dead in JDC.”

Liu? Dead?

“Liu. The same Liu that set fire to the school?”

That was what everyone in town believed now. Liu had been spotted setting fire to the school by the principal’s nephew Randall Orne, who had arrived late to talk to a teacher. Liu had fled, and attacked Randall’s innocent friend Keith. Luckily the valiant police had apprehended Liu, and (after a visit to the hospital) he had been sent to JDC. Juvy. Jeff still didn’t know why Randy hadn’t mentioned him in the story, or why the police had inexplicably never considered that Randy was the culprit.

How had Liu died?

***

The next few weeks had passed in a blur. Jeff paid no attention to the lessons, merely sitting in a corner. He tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible, but he could tell that people were sneaking looks at him when they thought he couldn’t see.

And one day, as he was walking in the hallway, he felt a tap on the shoulder. Randy.

“Hey. Sorry for your loss!” Randy said, while grinning like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

“Leave me alone.” Jeff said, in as neutral a tone as he could manage. He tried to walk away, but Keith blocked his path.

Keith had recovered from his injuries: the scar on his forehead was only visible in the right light.

“I thought we were friends, Jeffrey.” Randy.

“Oh really?” With nothing better to say, Jeff kept talking. “You tricked Liu and I into coming to the school at night.” Aware of how non-threatening he sounded, he kept going. @@@”

“Hey, hey, hey, Jeffy! Calm down!” said Troy, as if he was speaking to a particularly belligerent toddler.

Time seemed to slow down. Troy’s voice seemed to fade into oblivion. The blood boiled in Jeff’s ears, and all he could see was Troy’s face.
Jeff jumped. Caught unawares, Troy fell to the floor. Someone cried out. “Stop!”

But Jeff couldn’t stop.

This was the dickhead who sent his brother to JDC, then treated him like a toddler.

Payback time.

Jeff attacked. Punch after punch hit Troy’s face. A trickle of blood dripped out of his nose. Somewhere in the back of Jeff’s brain, the thought occurred that this was wrong, that there was a better way to settle this. The reptilian part of Jeff’s brain pushed it aside. Here was an enemy. He had to kill it.

Keith reached over and grabbed him.

Fuck Keith.

He attacked Keith as he had Randy. The shield of lard blocked Jeff’s punches, until Jeff hit Keith in the arm. Keith howled in pain: Jeff had hit an existing wound.

And then Randy tackled him, and a teacher grabbed him. The surge of energy subsided, and Jeff was hauled to the principal’s office.

“I was standing there- he attacked me…” said Troy. Was he crying? Fuck him. Fuck this school. Fuck Ornesburg.

***

What did you expect. Randy’s the principal’s nephew.

“...”

And his father’s the grandson of the late mayor. There’s been quite a nasty fight between the various branches of the family, and Randy’s father has several secrets that could tip the balance. Of course our current mayor doesn’t want that; he’s willing to treat them like kings to keep them happy. You picked about the worst person to fight.

Jeff hadn’t known this.

“Who are you?”

I’m- let’s just say I’m hard to describe. You’ve probably heard tales of me before.

“...”

Of course not! I’m only a figment of your imagination. Nothing more.

“...”

Jeff?

“...”

…

“How did Liu die?”

Stabbed in his sleep. You know the killer well.

“...”

“Randy, Troy, and Keith?”

Randy died weeks ago. Quite a large rock you threw, Jeff. Troy died in the hospital. Keith is deeply traumatized. He’l never speak again. His parents sent him to a care home in Nebraska. Killing him would only end his troubles.

And one of the bears winked.

***

The school psychologist’s office was a small, drab room the size of a RV. Judging from the tone of the psychologist, Jeff was the first student she’d seen in awhile.

“Hello, Godfrey! I understand you’ve been having some difficulties lately!”

She then launched into a long-winded speech about “negative energy” and “life-force”. Jeff heard none of it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Jeff always followed by a teacher. Talk about the elephant in the room. Jeff saw no sign of Randy, Troy, or Keith, but the teacher told him that they’d been allowed to take a “day off” to “recover”.

After school, Jeff ran into his room and lay on his bed. Nobody had bothered to remove any of Liu’s belongings; they lay strewn around the room as if Liu would walk in the door a second later.

Jeff looked out the window, away from Liu’s bed, and cried.

***

“...”

Ignore me. I’m just a figment of your imagination.

“...”

Sit up, Jeffrey.

Jeff knew it would be pointless. He’d try and try to sit up, but his body wouldn’t answer. He’d gotten used to it by now.

“...”

Sit up.

He sat up.

The feeling was similar to the feeling of dropping a weight. His body, trapped in a prison for so long, moved effortlessly. Jeff felt a ripping sensation in his arm. Instinctively, he looked behind himself. An IV had been attached to his arm: it now lay on the pillow, dripping an unidentified liquid.

Stand up.

He moved his arm up, within view, and was shocked by how much it had atrophied. His arm was shockingly pale, and folds of skin- where fat had been- hung off the bone. He could see no trace of any muscle.

Jeff placed his arm on the bed and pushed himself up. For one second, he was standing- standing! Then his atrophied legs buckled, and he grabbed the wall. His head jerked to the left-

The window.

The curtains had been drawn. Suspended from a cheap plastic rod above the window, the doctors had pulled them to the side. They were slightly translucent: Jeff could see light beyond them.

And then his eyes wandered to the glass panes.

The glass was slightly dirty, but still transparent. Behind lay Ornesburg, in all its glory. In front of Jeff, he could see the parking lot of the hospital. His eyes eagerly took in every car. Over there was a red minivan: it had three raised ridges on its roof. Not much further away was a black motorcycle. Jeff drank in every detail of it, from its black seat to the cracks in its headlights. And to the left, beside that navy-blue truck-

People. Two men. One, presumably hospital staff, seemed to be having a shouting match with the trucker, seated inside the truck. Jeff could only catch a glimpse of the trucker’s hat. A red baseball cap.

And then Jeff looked up, and saw the last sliver of the sun before its descent below the horizon.

Prisoners in solitary confinement are allowed to see the sun. Jeff wasn’t.

It burned his eyes, but he could not look away

And then his atrophied legs buckled and he fell to the floor.

***

“Why today?” Jeff said, the day after he attacked Randy and Keith. He was lying on his bed.

The night that Randy had betrayed him and Liu, they’d gone to the school late. Jeff and Liu had only been brought along to act as scapegoats: to take the blame. Randy had grabbed a key and tried to unlock the time capsule, but they’d been interrupted by the cops.

Why would they choose today to try it again?

How did he know this?

Without interrupting Mike or his mother, he snuck to the shed, grabbed his bicycle, and headed for the school.

***

Jeff awoke in the hospital bed. The door opened.

“Finally.” Dr. Smith, from outside the room.

“What life could young Jeffrey have? The chances are less than a billion to one that he wakes up at this point. If he did, he’d awake as a quadriplegic with a dead brother. And now a dead mother. Poor kid. At least his stepfather listened to reason.” Dr. McSomething-or-Other.

…

“Goodbye, Jeffrey.” Dr. Smith.

As Dr. Smith entered the room, Jeff could see the contents of the box he was carrying: a syringe, filled with milky gray fluid.

***

As silently as he could, Jeff dismounted his bike. He hid it in the bushes.

Creeping around to the back of the school, he noticed the familiar shapes of Randy. Troy and Keith, already at the time capsule. From his angle, he could see that Randy was counting down the seconds.

4-3-2-1-0.

Randy grabbed the key. Moving faster than Jeff had seen him move, he placed the key in the time capsule and unlocked it. He then opened it.

Jeff saw the contents of the time capsule a split second before the trio did.

A large ruby sitting on top of several other jewels.

An unexplainable rage struck Jeff. He picked up the biggest rock he thought he could throw, then hucked it at Randy.

It hit Randy in the back of the skull. He fell like a bag of bricks.

Troy and Keith looked up. Jeff grabbed another rock, threw it, and missed.

Troy and Keith ran towards Jeff. Jeff ran towards the time capsule, away from them. Instantly, Troy changed direction.

They converged on the time capsule, next to the unconscious Randy.

The sound of police sirens pierced the night. There was a scream...

***

Relax, Jeff. This is a slow-acting serum. They’ll inject you with it, leave you, then return in six hours or so. You’ll be long gone before then.

“Alright, Dr. Smith.”

“If all goes well, Jeff’s skin will turn white and seem to harden, his eyes will open, and he’ll slowly die.”

“Sounds fun. Why change the procedure?”

“This is what we reserve for inmates on death row. It works twice as fast as the one we normally use.”

Dr. Smith rolled up Jeff’s sleeve, wiped a small area of his skin with antiseptic, and injected the drug.

Jeff felt nothing, but the doctors clearly thought everything had gone perfectly. They exchanged nervous smiles then left the room after fifteen minutes.

Sit up.

Jeff sat up. It was far easier the second time.

“Who killed my mother? Liu? Answer me.”

The same person. You know him well. Mike.

Jeff wasn’t sure how to react.

Did you know your grandfather? Horrible man. Disowned his daughter for marrying against his wishes. You, Liu, and your mother cannot inherit any of your grandfather’s estate when he dies- but your grandfather never predicted Mike. If all three of you are dead, then he gets it all. If one of you is alive when he dies, it returns to the state.

For a second Jeff didn’t know how to react. The the truth sank in.

Before the hospital stay, he would’ve cried his eyes out.

The sadness was replaced by malevolent rage and- what was that- puzzlement?

Grabbing a scalpel, Jeff walked out of the door.

***

Mike was sitting on the couch, crying, when the doorbell rang.

More cops, likely. Damn them. Damn them all.

He wiped his face, tried as best as he could to compose himself, then opened the door.

Involuntarily, he jumped back. Staring at him was a skinny being in a hospital gown, about the size of a 14-year-old. His skin was the palest white Mike had ever seen, and his eyes appeared permanently open.

It pulled out a scalpel.

***

“no- please- no-”

The thing that was once Mike huddled in the corner, bleeding from a dozen stab wounds.

“no”

Jeff heard footsteps upstairs. Mike was too far gone to notice them. Cops.

“...we’ve followed every lead, and this Michael Lamb guy is completely innocent. 7 different people saw him at the bank the hour the murder was committed. Poor guy…”

Jeff stared into Mike’s eyes as he died.

The eyes of an innocent man.

What had he done?

Such a pity.

The voice in his head no longer sounded as benevolent.

Such a pity.

No. No. No.

Once there was an old man named Jedediah Orne. He thought he could rule this country. Consulted the best alchemists and magicians, and found me. But his heart was too weak to control me. His dying act was to seal me in a stone box. New settlers built a town here, revering Orne as their founder. Rumors spread through the leading families about wealth hidden in the woods- hidden in a part of the woods they’d cleared: nobody found it- until young Randy was brave, or stupid, enough, to believe the rumors. He’s sitting next to old Jedediah. Troy, in the hospital bed, tried to use me- but was too weak. And then I saw you.

No. No. No.

Jeff tried to run.

Don’t run, Jeffrey. Stay by the body. I have been released. I do not need you.

Jeff tried to run, and was stopped.

Nice try.

Liu appeared by his side, glowing and translucent. Beside him was his mother. Further along, other figures. Peter. Mike. Randy. An old man.

Run! Run!

Their voices filled his brain. Jeff tried to run, but could not. The voice was controlling him. Again, he was a prisoner in his own body.

And then it came to him. In that split second, he thought he could detect some fear in the voice, as he stabbed the scalpel into his own heart.

Pain. Pain burning hotter than a thousand suns.

No. No. No.

Liu and the others screamed, and were burnt away.

The house shook.

Jeff fell to the floor.

The light faded.

And all was quiet.

***

The two policemen anxiously opened the basement door, scared of what could have caused the heat and the noise they had felt only a minute ago.

The basement was ruined. Everything was scorched. In the corner of the room lay a dead body- Michael Lamb, the policeman saw. In the center of the room lay another body, dressed in a hospital gown. Astoundingly, it seemed to be breathing. On shaky legs, it stood up.

And that was the last thing they ever saw.