Brink by Mikel Parry
Chapter 32 - Love and demons

CH – LOVE AND DEMONS

Collapsing on the ground, Thomas shrieked in pain. His head was exploding. He had put everything he had, every detail, every clue, every shred of human emotion he could muster, into one daredevil move. He had to be right; he must be right. Getting onto his feet he looked at the world around him, frozen in time. A better place, a happier place, maybe at some time, to someone, but to him it was nothing but the spawning pool of a demon. He had chosen this place for many reasons, but one above all; being human. Even the most brilliant, the most psychotic, held on to something that still made them human; habits, feelings, a sense of purpose. Even a deranged killer still had molecules of humanity left. He’d realized this about himself. He’d come full circle. Tommy Gun—brilliant detective, prodigy—but still human. Looking up, he saw the sign to the building:

Cupid’s Eros

Such a stupid title. Thanks, Barb.

The quirky hotel was adorned with everything one might expect in a place like this. Red velvet furniture and every hopelessly romantic knick-knack conceivable were on display. All placed to set the mood for the right price. But that wasn’t why he was here. He had only one purpose, and he needed to act quickly. Glancing at the open guest registry book at the front desk he saw the names he and Barb had found.

June Smith

Johnny Smith

Even now, their sheer arrogance was fully demonstrated; the couple’s complete disregard for authority on display. Love—why did so much hate seem to come from what many would call the purest emotion? Love for one’s self, for another, or just the idea alone. Love is what had started all this; or at least the loss of it. Looking past the names, he found the corresponding room number—a suite—why not? Taking in a long, drawn out breath to summon whatever courage he had left, he moved on.

The frozen in place world of the past, as always, was awe inspiring; so many details being held firmly in place, ready to be analyzed. As he moved up a set of winding, carefully designed stairs towards the top level of suites, he took it all in. But for the first time, none of it seemed to be entering the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Was it possible that somehow, someway, his emotions were blocking out his logic? If so, what had he become?

You can do this, Tommy.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, he moved forward towards the suite of choice. He was briefly shocked to see the door held open by a chair, just enough to squeeze a body through. Shocking, and yet expected. It appeared he was on the right track. Pushing himself through the narrow opening, he entered the room. It was filled with all of the romantic charm one would expect. The lights had been properly adjusted to further ensure the passion driven aura meant to lower inhibitions. His thoughts turned to Jena. In another life, they could have shared this picturesque, if not overbearingly charming, moment together. Perhaps they’d laugh at how ridiculous it all was before letting loose their caged emotion under ever dimming candle light. But it would never be. Suddenly, he stopped. His mouth fell open and a lump formed in his chest the size of a softball. It was her. The woman from the mountain. She was dressed in an alluring ensemble of lace and satin, her complexion superbly warm. Attire meant to bring any man falling to his knees in desire. She sat, back pressed to the headboard, waiting, smiling, inviting. The contrast between this and her future lifeless frozen body was remarkable. She almost appeared to be an entirely different person. She wasn’t alone; standing just a few feet away was a man. He stood over her casting a shadow across the bed that was slipping ever closer to her. His back was turned to Thomas, his identity still shielded. Stepping a few feet closer to the man, Thomas smelled a heavy dose of cologne. Its liberal use had loudly pronounced its presence.

I know this.

Thomas froze in place. The smell was generic cologne. He had smelled it many times on many people. But this was different. The aroma was generic, but not its connections to all of the details he had collected. The bed with the woman from his first glimpse, the shipyard, and now here. It made all the difference. He knew this man. But the thought of it being real, that his brilliant mind had connected enough dots to be judge, jury, and executioner was staggering. How could it be? His heart ached with an incredible pain. He felt both betrayed and let down, as if someone in his own family had been hiding a terrible secret from him. Tears welled up in his eyes. But it was too late now, for both of them.

Taking a few steps closer to the bed, he let himself be seen. He could feel him, his cold, dark eyes watching his every move, anticipating his next intent. It seemed pointless now, to speak to the man who had mastered the brilliant game of time. He undoubtedly already knew what Thomas’ presence there meant. And yet he remained silent, watching.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. All this time . . . you’ve been showing me all along. I was just too blinded by my own pride. Blinded by my own logic. All those people, all that death, there never really was a true direction or purpose—only revenge—blind, selfish, revenge. That’s why you killed them all; so many people that didn’t deserve to die. Isn’t that right Johnny? Isn’t that what she called you? We’ve all got nicknames around here, don’t we? Damned if Jo hadn’t told me from the start. Man in Black, I’ve always hated that music.”

He suddenly felt movement in the shadows behind him. For a moment, the image of the dark, masked horror came front and center to Thomas’ mind. But there would be no masks here. Not anymore. Here the killer was his very human self. Wallowing in self-pity and carefully cultivated hate. Hate that had driven his gifted mind mad. Mad enough to forgo all allegiances and promises he had once made.

“They all deserved their fate. Each chose their path.”

All shrouds of mystery had been slashed open. He knew this voice. It was no longer the warped voice of evil he had received from the dark mask. This was human, and belonged to someone he had grown to know well. Banks stepped from the shadows of the room. He looked longingly at the beautiful woman on the bed. He had tears in his eyes and was shaking slightly. A combination of both regret and hate appeared to be fueling his thoughts. The sting in Thomas’ heart was now amplified tenfold. Banks had done it all.

“What are you saying? No one reserves that right! You killed those men at the docks, those agents, Barb; you even tried to kill me!”

Banks pursed his lips as he fought back his emotions. His inner turmoil was seeping out rapidly.

“I did what I had to! Those men at the docks were the same men I wasted my life chasing! The agents, those men professing allegiance to Roslin and that damned organization, brought this on themselves!”

“Those agents were your partners! They were your friends!”

“Don’t you think I know that!” said Banks, tears streaming down his face.

“I see their faces every single minute of every single day. But I had to do it. I had to! They’d understand. I regret it but I did what was necessary.”

Thomas watched as Banks’s composure crumbled with inner conflict. He felt the pain and remorse for what he had done, and yet still believed that the ends outweighed the means.

“They had nothing to do with her!”

Banks’s behavior quickly shifted. His eyes narrowed into two barely visible slits.

“Don’t you ever mention her again. Do you have any idea how long I looked? How long it took me to finally replace her? I spent a thousand lifetimes retracing her steps throughout time, only to replace her abandoned, dead! Her sacrifice meant nothing! She was ripped right out of my hands. The only true thing I ever had! Taken! By them!”

Thomas wanted to say something but knew that his silence would beckon more of the dark tale.

“I told them she had survived! I knew she couldn’t have been lost so easily. But Roslin, that damned Roslin, gave up. He gave up on her! He left her to die! On a mission she never should have been on! But did anyone do anything? Did anyone in the organization step in? No, because there’s rules. Rules, protocol, and lies. It was then I knew what I had to do. If I couldn’t have that little scrap of humanity, then none of them would—especially not him!”

Banks’s absolute hatred for Roslin was in full swing. Now it was clear. All the times that Thomas had seen the fire in Banks’s eyes when he looked at Roslin, had been a pure hatred restrained. How many years had he contained his inner demons, waiting for just the right time? How many years had he spent meticulously planning? His lost love had created a monstrosity of a man. It was all making more and more sense. Banks had reprogrammed his watch when he had taken it from Thomas early on. That was how they kept replaceing each other. Banks knew how to disappear without being traced. He had left the bread crumbs behind. He had been watching Thomas since day one. Whenever Banks was missing was when the calamities reached their zenith. He was a true master of manipulation.

“Don’t you see? I had to make him suffer. Make him feel the loss that I felt when the only world he knew burned to the ground. Make him feel my pain. Then, and only then, could I finally take his life—once I saw the same fear and pain in him I once saw in myself—only then could I let him die. In his ashes, I’ll start anew. I thought you’d understand. I thought you of all people could see what I was trying to do. Thought you’d understand my loss. But I was wrong. You’re just like them. Blinded by the pretense of justice in a broken system. Being led around by the devil himself.”

Thomas felt his soul sink. All the times he had nearly tasted death were resurrected in full clarity in his mind. The loss of those closest to him. The loss of Jena, and now, Barb. Banks’s psychotic breakdown had cost him everything. He had nothing left to lose.

“To hell with your sick sense of justice! You’ve killed countless innocent people! Because of you, there’ll be no world left after it’s all said and done! You’re sick!”

Banks’s body began to tremble. He pressed his hands hard into the sides of his head and screamed.

“I had to do it! I had to make them pay! I hate all of them! I hate this world that robbed me of her!”

Banks’s demonic voice of reason divulged the absolute truth. He had completely lost himself to his hate. No matter the consequences, he would destroy the lives of anyone he saw fit to in an attempt to soothe his infinitely tortured soul. But Thomas knew this could never happen. In his own loss he had discovered something. That one can never truly be healed; the scars never go away. But in them he had found strength and purpose. It had taken him this long to finally forget himself. Forget his selfish desires and aspirations. He was no longer fighting for his own personal gain. He was fighting to preserve the chance for others to feel what he had been so shamelessly robbed of—love.

“How many times have I come back here? How many times have I tried to save her? But as soon as I return to my present, she’s gone again.”

Thomas stepped closer to Banks before responding.

“No one can rob death, not even you.”

“You’re wrong. I’ll replace a way. Even if I have to destroy time itself, I’ll get her back!”

Thomas clenched his fists tightly. He knew that sooner or later the world around him would be shredded to bits, ripping him back to his horrific future. His adrenaline was flooding through his beat-up body. What little energy he had left had to redeem whatever future he had left. He wasn’t sure what the consequences would be, but someone was going to die. He knew what he had to do.

“Don’t make me do this, Banks! Please don’t make me do this!”

Banks’s eyes narrowed. His trembling ceased for just a moment. In a deep, inhuman voice he responded.

“But you already have.”

In a burst of desperation, Thomas lunged at Banks, who went for his revolver. He caught Banks’s hand and smashed it into the nearby wall. Banks howled an agonizing scream as his revolver clacked to the floor. He responded quickly by smashing an elbow across Thomas’ face. Drops of blood exploded into the air from the impact. Banks dashed for his gun. Thomas followed on his heels. Spitting out a pool of crimson blood onto the floor, he watched as Banks leaned over to snatch up his revolver. With cat-like reflexes, he threw his body into Banks’s back. The two men collapsed to the floor.

“If you don’t stop there won’t be a future left!” screamed Thomas.

“Without her, it doesn’t matter!”

They rolled around on the ground, desperately trying to win control of the revolver. Banks slid an arm around Thomas and caught him in a choke hold. Thomas coughed out a blood soaked wheeze as he struggled to breathe. He appeared to be losing ground in his weakened state. His mind quickly locked onto the revolver. Recalling all the rules of time, he swung one of his feet wildly about, inching it ever closer to the gun. Reaching it, he kicked it across the room. It slid under the bed.

“Stop getting in my way!” screamed Banks.

His grip on Thomas’ throat lessened, his attention moving to the revolver. Thomas managed to land a furious punch to Banks’s face. The impact sent Banks sprawling to one side. Thomas clumsily tried to stand back on his feet. He could feel his aching body throbbing in misery. He had to fight through it. Taking a few more steps, he suddenly felt weightless as he plummeted to the ground. Banks had swept his feet out from under him. With a juicy crunch, his body hit the unforgiving floor. Thomas let out a painful moan. He frantically rolled to one side and saw Banks struggling to his feet.

“We could have changed it. We could have saved them!”

Thomas shook his head.

“How can you save them when you can’t even save yourself?”

Banks let out a roar of anger as he jumped up and sprinted for the bed.

“Then I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you!”

Thomas huffed and puffed feeling slightly light-headed. He painfully pushed himself to his feet and chased after Banks, who was already looking under the bed, trying to spot his missing revolver. Banks felt his presence and slowly arose. They were both bloodied and battered and both knew it was the end. For a moment they stood silent, chests heaving in unison. It was Thomas who broke the silence.

“I thought you were my friend! I thought I could trust you!”

Banks’s body shook violently. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with a mixture of sadness and rage.

“I was. I tried to show you. I tried to give you a chance! Now you’ve made me do this! One of us has to die!”

Thomas flinched at the comment.

“I’m already dead.”

At Thomas’ comment, they leapt at each other as if rehearsed. They threw a frenzy of punches, each trying to subdue the other. Blood was splattered all over the room. And still the fight continued. The struggle spilled onto the bed as the time frozen world sustained them in the most surprising ways. Thomas found himself wedged between Banks’s lost wife and his former self. He grabbed onto one of the old Banks’s arms to pull himself out of the way of an enraged fist heading in his direction. The punch narrowly missed its mark and instead plummeted into Banks’s time frozen self. His knuckles crunched and buckled against his own face, locked in time, years ago. He let out a howl of pain.

Thomas dropped to the floor looking frantically for the revolver. He saw it. To his great frustration, it was on the far side, just out of reach. He quickly rose, just in time to catch a well-placed kick to his stomach. He felt his insides shift around as a stream of blood spewed from his mouth. Through sweat soaked eyes that stung madly, he saw Banks leap across the bed. He was going for the gun. Unsure of how much more he could take, he pursued.

Come on, Tommy, you’ve got to beat this!

Thrusting forward, he latched onto one of Banks’s heels and pulled on it with all his might. The unexpected grab stalled Banks’s progress, who responded by throwing a whirlwind of kicks. A few found their mark to bone crunching effect on Thomas’ face. Banks snatched up the revolver and spun to face his old friend.

Thomas could barely see. The world was fuzzy; his body was shutting down. He could see the hazy outline of Banks bringing something up in front of him. He knew it was the revolver. With almost no direction or fight left in him, he made a purely instinctive move, falling across the bed and grabbing onto Banks’s arms. Banks fought him off. Thomas put every ounce of strength he had into his hands. He needed to make one last move. As Banks continued to ward off the attack, one of Thomas’ hands grabbed Banks’s free arm. The sudden momentum sent Banks’s arm crashing into the nearby nightstand. Then, with a monstrous backhand, Banks sent Thomas sprawling backwards over the top of the bed and onto the floor.

Thomas watched as everything seemed to be fading to black. His physical self was completely diminished. He tried to raise himself up slowly. He at least wanted to see his end standing. Through streams of crimson haze he stood as firm and tall as he could. He watched Banks take aim with resignation.

“It’s funny that you and I would finally come full circle like this. In the very place where it really all started for me, it all ends for you. But the world will never know.”

Thomas glanced at Banks’s hand that was free of the revolver and smiled. Banks followed his eyes and his eyes immediately widened in horror.

“You of all people should know, Banks. It’s all about the set up; keeping someone’s attention where you want it.”

Banks’s watch had been smashed to pieces. The prodigious piece of technology that was the brink was no more.

“I agree. It’s funny. Time ruined our lives and now it’s time that’s going to rip us apart. I’m sorry, Banks, I’m so sorry.”

Banks’s shaking heightened to a new level. His eyes darted around madly.

“You couldn’t! You wouldn’t!”

“I have!”

As if a self-fulfilling prophecy had finally been hastened, the world around Thomas and Banks suddenly began spinning wildly out of control. Brilliant shards of light thrashed their way through the air in the usual maelstrom of energy. In complete terror, Thomas watched as Banks was rapidly being ripped apart. Waves of energy riddled his body with holes. A mortifying howl erupted from Banks that shook the very foundations of Thomas’ being.

“I’m so sorry, Banks. For all of this.”

At the precipice of destruction, Banks’s last labor came with a resounding blast from his revolver. Through space and time the bullet pierced Thomas’ chest.

Banks screamed one last time.

His hateful life was finally laid to rest. A massive burst of light arrived with a deafening roar that blotted out the world. As it did, Thomas felt himself fading quickly. His end was neigh. With only moments left to live, he pulled out his watch and put in the only date that mattered to him. Everything went silent and fell into a sudden darkness. Had he been too late?