Letters from the Dead

Agent Way stared at Adam, his eyebrows folded in the middle.

The gauche half-child, half-adult in front of Gerard was deeply absorbed in his recount, a look of pure ecstasy and excitement on his face. Once Adam had decided to confess, he hardly needed encouragement to speak… he was willing enough to spill out what he had done to Rachel to the disgruntled agents in front of him.

“Two sides of the coin,” he thought. Adam had earlier been meek, like a scared little rabbit. A helpless, innocent, vulnerable teenager. Now cornered, he had transformed into an ugly, grotesque monster - the monster that had killed Rachel Phillips.

Rachel had simply been unlucky.

Gerard’s grip on the Styrofoam cup tightened as Rachel’s broken body flashed again in his mind.

“Rachel’s so beautiful. Her red hair, her green eyes… I always saw her, for what she was. An angel, uncomfortable, unsuitable and awkward in the human world. But still beautiful. Beautiful.” Adam repeated, rather dreamily.

“She was perfect, intelligent… but she wasn’t mine. I was frustrated. I was a mere mortal. Imperfect, flawed… She couldn’t be mine. She was always there, right in front of me, taunting me to take her… to own her… I needed her. I wanted to have her… But she wasn’t mine. Don’t you understand? It was the only way I could have her… ” Adam continued, as he closed his eyes.

Gerard swallowed. Something stirred within him… The red, ugly demon inside, baring its teeth, rearing its head. Gerard shifted, suddenly aware of how disturbed he really was.

“Shoot him. He’s a sinner.” A sulfurous hiss sounded, rising from the shadowy depths of his mind. “Kill the abomination…”

Agent Way’s hand twitched instinctively over his weapon.

But something held Gerard back. He was mesmerized by Adam’s words…

Agent Toro was impassive. He was typing on his sidekick, his fingers furiously flying across the keys. The tip-tapping of the plastic keys sounded, like a soothing melody in the background.

“I prayed, you know.” Adam said, his eyes opened and shining with glee.

“For what?” Agent Way murmured gently, his voice not betraying his real emotions. He clenched his fingers, nails digging deeply into his palms.

“I prayed to God, that he would give me a sign… a chance… to show her, how much we deserve to be together. To finally own her… That I was good enough for her. And He came through, for me.”

Adam straightened, staring right into Gerard’s eyes. Icy blue fought and broke through warm hazel, oozing like posion into Gerard’s veins. Gerard’s insides froze as Adam spoke again, a twisted, warped smile on his lips.

“He came through. He gave her to me…”

Adam’s voice played repeatedly in Gerard’s head, like a broken radio on repeat.

Gerard’s heart began to race.

“She was right there. Her hips swaying, tempting… right there, next to the alley. God was telling me to take the chance. He gave it to me, telling me that this stunning angel was rightfully mine. So I listened… I went up to her. She was smiling so prettily, her green eyes like clear jade… it was as though she knew that I was going to own her soon. She didn’t hear me coming up to her because she was listening to her music, her earphones plugged into her ears. She screamed, of course, but that must have been because I had given her a shock. I took her to the back of the dark alley…”

“That was the first time I touched her.” Adam half-whispered. His face was crazed, his lips twisted in a permanent smirk. “She was so soft, so beautiful… and she was mine. I was ecstatic. God told me to take her, to own her… So I did. I kissed her, touched her…Worshipped her. She was so small, so delicate and exquisite. My hands trembled as I caressed her skin. She was so warm, so soft… so wet…” He shuddered, mumbling the words softly.

“But she wouldn’t stop screaming.” He frowned suddenly. “I got angry. Couldn’t she see how good we were together? How we fit, so perfectly like the pieces to a puzzle? I was determined, to show her… I took her clothes off, touched her, felt her… I pushed myself into her… Skin against skin… She was so tight, she felt so good… Wet, warm… perfect. It was exhilarating… even better than what I had imagined before. And the best thing was… God had seen it all. He was right beside me, and he murmured into my ears, telling me that I was being rewarded, that I deserved this beautiful angel…”

Gerard pushed the chair backwards abruptly, his body rising upwards. He couldn’t stand to hear any more.

He needed air.

Agent Toro looked back in alarm at Gerard as he staggered backwards. Gerard’s heart swelled, fluttering in anguish and dread. He was lost, lost in the storm of his memories. His head swarmed, Adam’s voice amplified in his mind. Adam was still in the middle of his confession, his eyes lost in his memories as he talked about Rachel.

”Gerard… Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Gerard swallowed as he felt the sharp tang of bile, sour and pungent, rising in his throat.

“Sorry.” Gerard muttered, before he hastily walked out of the room. He hazily saw, out of the corner of his eye, Ray giving a worried nod of his head, his afro bobbing. But Gerard didn’t care about anything else. He was blinded, blinded by his own thoughts and memories and overwhelmed by the emotions that assaulted him as he rushed to the toilet…

*
Dashing into the cubicle, Gerard locked it before he turned, back pressed up against the door. The walls of the locked cubicle surrounded him, making him feel claustrophobic. His head was spinning, and it felt as though someone was trying to tear his brains out of his skull.

Before his eyes, Adam’s arctic blues bore into him once again. His smile stabbed through Gerard’s chest like daggers. Gerard was disgusted… Not only because he had been affected by the brutality and psychosis of Adam’s confession, but because he had understood every word of it… He had felt the thrill, the excitement of the hunt racing through his flesh as Adam spoke of his triumphs… Gerard’s gut began to convulse and spasm and he shivered, but not in response to cold…

Gerard shot forward and hurled, vomiting.

Gerard had saw, in Adam, himself.

His teenage, monstrous self…

The devil in him had awakened, ripping away the façade that Gerard had taken years to build. The mask of a fearless, brilliant FBI agent. The mask of a successful… righteous man. Gerard finally saw in himself, the beast that he really was… He turned to the toilet bowl, sobbing as he vomited again.

She’s gone, Gerard.

What?

Lizzie. Lizzie’s gone.

The memories exploded into his mind, tearing down his defenses and roaring mercilessly, deafening his ears and ripping though his heart. He was breathless. Angry tears burst forth from his eyes, blurring his vision, and turning the ugly mess of vomit in front of him into darkness…

”No, please, Gerard, no! No! Please…”

The screams rang clearly and loudly in his ears. And the relentless sobbing... Gerard let out a high-pitched keening sound, curling his fists tightly. He held them against his mouth, trying to cushion the melancholy sounds that were escaping from it. Gerard struggled to compose himself, trying to lock away the memories that he had kept for 20 years as he wept uncontrollably…

”I love you, Lizzie. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

The disgusting condition of the cubicle helped Gerard in his efforts, with the yellowish stains and suspicious brown smears on the toilet seat. In a few minutes, he had successfully emptied his breakfast into the toilet bowl. His stomach contorted with the effort. He could smell the hydrochloric acid in his vomit, taste it in his throat. Gerard heaved and heaved, long after his stomach had been cleared. Tears intermingled with sweat and vomit.

Gerard kneeled, still, before the soiled toilet bowl, breathing deeply. He ignored the stench, and instead, concentrated on getting air into his lungs, which were starting to cramp from the lack of oxygen. The exercise calmed him, and he managed to chase the blackness away from his mind.

At least, for the moment.

“Lucifer, the fallen angel, huddled over a toilet bowl.” The weird thought suddenly flew into his mind. The imagery had Gerard bursting out into laughter. The remaining tears trickled down his cheeks, but he had stopped crying. Laughing made his stomach hurt, but the giggles were incontrollable. He was puking his guts out here, yet he felt that surge of insanity cross the threshold in his mind. He clutched the sides of the bowl tightly, feeling weak. Taking care not to fall forward, he pushed himself to the side, falling heavily against the wall of the locked cubicle. Still chuckling, he yanked a long stretch of toilet paper out from the toilet roll, dabbing his mouth weakly. Grabbing another length of toilet paper, he wiped off his perspiration and tears away from his face.

Humor was the only thing that kept an FBI agent going.

Everything that he had seen was enough to drive a person insane… and humor was his only reassurance, his only insurance that would keep him alive, keep him sane.

He tossed the soiled toilet paper into the toilet bowl, taking care not to look too carefully at the floating bits of god-knows-what inside it. He flushed the toilet, and nervously flattened his hair, soothing out his clothes. Hoping that no one had caught him in such a compromising position, he turned the lock, peeking out of the cubicle slightly. He let out a violent sigh of relief as he realized that the toilet was empty. Staggering towards the sinks, he lowered his head, turning on the tap and splashing his face with water.

“Here.” A familiar voice sounded beside his ear.

Gerard jumped backwards in surprise. Glancing at the direction where the voice came from, he caught a shocking-blue bottle in his hands in a reflex action as it was hurled in his direction.

He examined the bottle of Listerine, keeping his eyes down, feeling self-conscious.

“How long have you been here?” Gerard asked, very much mollified.

“Long enough. Heard you worshipping the porcelain god. Went back to get this.” Came the long drawl.

“Thanks.” Gerard muttered.

“No problem.”

Gerard opened the bottle of Listerine, tipping the cobalt liquid into the cap and then pouring it into his mouth. He gargled, then spit the liquid out, appreciating the refreshing feeling as the acrid taste of bile left his throat.

Gerard heard a soft chuckle.

“What’s the matter, case too difficult for you to stomach?”

“Fuck off.” Gerard blurted out. His hazel orbs met sapphire in an angry look.

Agent Bob Bryar was standing at the entrance of the Gent’s, arms folded and leaning casually against the door.

“Ray’s worried.” He said simply. Gerard saw plainly, in those misty blues, that Bob was concerned too. A small smile came to Gerard’s lips. Bob was a stubborn man, much too obstinate for his own good.

“And I want to know that I stood here for a good reason, watching your back and covering your ass while you were heaving it out in there.”

The smile disappeared instantaneously from Gerard’s lips.

“None of your business, Bryar.” He snarled angrily, pushing his way past the man.

Bob grabbed Gerard by the arm, holding on tightly. Gerard tried to pull away, but Bob’s grip was unyielding. There was uncertainty and hesitation in the bright sapphire orbs that dulled somewhat as Gerard glared heatedly at him.

“You need someone to talk to, you can, I… ya know. I…will be…here.” The man said nervously, awkwardly, his words a little jumbled, his eyes shifting, looking anywhere but at Gerard. Gerard’s anger softened. Bob wasn’t an affectionate man, and he had difficulty with such expressions of comfort. He was like a tiger, with the heart of a kitten. Bob purely cared about him, as a friend. He had watched his back while Gerard had been at his lowest, most desolate. Gerard had been most ungrateful, barking at him, dismissing his kindness. Despite the un-appreciativeness that Gerard had showed, Bob still offered to help. His heart lifted slightly at his friend’s big heart and chivalry.

“Thanks.” He whispered, putting as much gratitude into the word as he could, squeezing Bob’s arm slightly before walking out.

Bob was a good friend. But he couldn’t help Gerard.

His heart sank at the bitter truth of his next thought.

No one could.

Notes

Skillet - Monster

The secret side of me, I never let you see
I keep it caged but I can't control it
So stay away from me, the beast is ugly
I feel the rage and I just can't hold it