Later that evening, Karissa walked through the door and was greeted by dinner and a bouquet of red roses.
“Hey! There she is! Congratulations, baby!” Lewis said while stepping up to give her a hug and a kiss. He was in his white dress shirt with the top button undone.
“Thank you, Lewy,” she said. chuckling. “Oh, wow, you made dinner?”
“Of course I did; we gotta celebrate your story, K,” Lewis said happily. The smell of chicken, rice, and vegetables filled the air.
Lewis put the food onto two white plates and drizzled the top with teriyaki sauce. He laid the plates out on the dinner table while Karissa filled up Apollo’s food and water bowls. They both sat down and began to eat the stir fry that Lewis had prepared.
Apollo obviously had no interest in his dry dog food, as he ignored it and began to beg for some of the Nelsons’ dinner.
“Oh, I almost forgot, I picked something up. I’ll be right back,” Lewis said excitedly.
Karissa watched him run into the garage. She then looked down at Apollo and snuck him a little piece of chicken, which he enjoyed very much.
Lewis came back into the kitchen with a large wine bottle.
“Oh, wow, look at you,” Karissa said, smiling.
“We’re going to pop this bad boy open, and you’re going to tell me about your day!” he said while getting two wineglasses from the kitchen. “So, how’d you manage to get this story from Jerry?” He was filling the glasses and walking them over to the table.
“Thanks baby,” Karissa said, and then, taking a sip, “It just sort of happened. I walked in and was fully focused on the Griffin story. I didn’t talk about anything else, and during our morning staff meeting, he gave it to me.”
She took another sip and looked down at her food. “I guess,” she started, her tone now sad and low, “I realize now that he only gave me the Griffin story because the reporter he assigned it to first was put on the Patrick Hopkins case.”
Lewis looked at her with a glowing smile. “Hey.”
She looked up from her dinner.
“I am so damn proud of you,” he said before getting lost in her eyes. “The Griffin story is a big one! You were given an opportunity, and I know you’re going to kill it.”
She looked at his big brown eyes and smiled. “You’re right,” she said while her smile got bigger and bigger. “What about you?” Karissa asked, bringing Lewis out of his trance. “How was your day?”
As soon as she asked that, Lewis’ entire demeanor changed. He slouched forward and spoke strangely. “Uh…it was…good,” he said nervously.
She knew something was off.
“What happened? What is it?” she asked, concerned.
Lewis decided not to tell her about Bolton, although he didn’t know why. He told his wife everything, and something major happened at work and he decided not to. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t physically get the words out of his mouth.
“Nothing, K. Everybody was just a little shaken up, is all. There was even talk about cancelling classes earlier today.” He began to stare into his wineglass. His eyes were examining its darkness. Something about it reminded him of the dark streak he saw on the sidewalk. And he was now aware that there was somebody watching him examine the dark streak of blood last night.
Karissa raised her eyebrows with worry and watched him get lost in the maroon liquid, until eventually things got back to normal and she changed the subject.
Around 8:00 p.m., Lewis and Karissa began to put the dishes away. While they laughed and played with Apollo, there was something lurking outside. Something in the shadows.
There was a figure. It was standing about ten feet away from their back window, which was partially covered by a tree.
And it wasn’t eagerly looking in—no, it was just standing there. So still, so tall, it seemed like a tree itself. It stood there in the open, like it wouldn’t care if somebody noticed it.
By 11:00 p.m., inside the house, only one light remained on in the kitchen. Karissa was sitting on the counter with her legs wrapped around Lewis’ torso. They were kissing over and over again.
The being outside hadn’t moved.
Lewis picked up Karissa and carried her into their bedroom. She laughed, and the being watched them shut the door.
That’s when it moved.
It went around the house by their bedroom and stood a few feet from Lewis’ bedside window. No tree in the way this time. Just the tall figure and the fence behind it that separated the Nelsons’ house from their neighbors.
Lewis kissed Karissa’s neck, and she turned her head toward the window. Her eyes closed as she moaned. After a brief moment, she opened them slowly and saw the being with its face pushed against the glass. Karissa screamed.
The being’s face was as pale as a fresh blanket of snow but covered in dark red blood streams. Its eyes were almost popping out of its head, as it appeared it did not have eyelids. Its mouth was cut into a smile, which showed bloodstained yellow teeth that looked like corn kernels. It made a loud noise that sounded like somebody choking.
Lewis jumped off Karissa immediately as she kept screaming.
The professor yelled, “What the hell?!” Seeing his wife’s eyes wide and glued to that window, he turned and looked in that direction and saw the shadow of something moving. On the window, he saw a very large bloodstained handprint.
Without time to think, Lewis yelled, “Call the cops!” He went into his closet, reached up onto the top shelf, and pulled out a large .44 Magnum revolver. He checked to make sure it was loaded.
After he grabbed it, he ran out into the living room. He yelled for Apollo to come with, but there was no sign of him. Lewis didn’t even throw on his shoes, he just ran out onto the pavement and was shocked at what he saw.
At the end of the street stood a tall figure. It was under a streetlight and staring back at Lewis. “You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Lewis screamed with rage. Then, flashing blue and red lights began to light up around the tall being. The professor looked at the police cars as they arrived, but when he looked back to where the figure had been standing, it was gone. Lewis remained there, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. His eyes were wide open. An itch returned to his brain.
*
The police were inspecting the Nelsons’ house. Their neighbors were outside in their bathrobes and pajamas. Karissa had come outside, and she was sitting on the front lawn with Lewis while the police did their job. She was wrapped up in his arms, sobbing.
A black SUV pulled up, and Detective Andrew Bolton stepped out, wearing a bulletproof vest with “FBI” written in yellow on the front. He greeted the couple.
“Lewis.”
Before he could say anything else, Lewis looked down at his wife with great worry.
Bolton kneeled down and looked at Karissa. “You must be Mrs. Nelson. I’m sorry we had to meet under these conditions, but it’s a pleasure. I’m Detective Bolton. I’m here to help you, but I need to understand what happened. Do you think you can help me understand?”
His voice was soothing. She stuttered a bit but began to tell him.
Lewis was lost in his own head. Somebody had come to his house and was on his property. There was a bloodstained handprint on his window.
Whose blood?
He came out of it when he heard Karissa say she could see the figure’s face. She described it as “a face without skin.”
She was obviously scared beyond belief.
Who is he?
WHAT is he?
Lewis thought again to the other night, at the stoplight. There was no doubt it was the same man.
Then an officer came up to Bolton and said, “We found a body.”
Lewis realized who the body was. He held onto Karissa and started to cry. She looked at him and said, “Is it…”
And Lewis nodded his head, sobbing.
Bolton, confused, asked, “Who else was in the house?”
The officer said, “It’s a dog, sir.”
The Nelsons’ sobbing got louder. Apollo was like a kid to them. He was part of the family. Bolton put his hand up to the officer and waved it, as if to say, That’s enough. The officer nodded and walked away.
Bolton leaned over to the couple and said soothingly, “I think it’d be best for you guys to sleep somewhere else tonight. We’ll clean up the house and make sure everything is ready for you to come back tomorrow. Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything.” He pulled out a card with his name and number on it and handed it to Lewis.
As Bolton was saying this, three police cars flew down the street, and static came over Bolton’s radio. Lewis couldn’t make out what it was saying, although it sounded urgent.
“I think we got him! I’ll be in touch,” Bolton said, then immediately sprinted back to his black SUV. Another police car pulled out after Bolton.
The Nelsons continued to sit there, in awe of the events that had occurred.
And as another officer approached Lewis and Karissa to ask about where they would be staying and offer police protection, Detective Bolton was on the move.
Over the radio in Bolton’s car, an officer said, “Suspect was spotted heading northbound, wearing all black…”
Bolton reached over to his shoulder, where his radio hung, and interrupted, “He’s a tall bastard; you can’t miss him!” He slammed the gas pedal as far to the floor as it could go. “We need to catch this guy! Keep all eyes open!” he exclaimed.
Bolton turned out of the Nelsons’ suburban neighborhood and onto a hill that led straight to downtown. “Where is he, goddamn it?!” Bolton screamed into the radio.
“Suspect spotted on Fremont Bridge,” said an officer over the radio.
“Good, cut him off!” Bolton yelled as he turned his car around and headed straight there.
By the time Bolton got to the bridge, three police cars had corned the tall man near the center. The detective halted his car to a complete stop. He got out and started toward the standoff. He passed another officer, who said, “Detective, wait until you see the shape of this frickin’ guy.”
Bolton unlatched his handgun from his holster. His eyes went wide when he saw the being. He had never seen anything like what he was witnessing, and Detective Andrew Bolton had seen a lot.
The tall being stood there dressed in an all-black robe. Its face was visible and covered in blood. Its hands were also drenched in the dark warm liquid, and it was ungodly tall.
Bolton froze in his tracks. He thought back to Karissa’s words. At the time, he’d thought she was exaggerating. Not anymore. Her words, even in the most literal extent, could not prepare him for what the tall being’s face looked like.
Shivers ran down his spine. So cold. It felt as if he were stranded in the Artic without even the clothes on his back.
The rest of the officers, about five in all, were pointing their handguns at the tall figure.
“Put your hands behind your head!” one officer commanded.
It didn’t move; it just stood there with its artificial smile that seemed carved into its face and kept staring straight into the night.
“Put your goddamn hands over your head!” the officer repeated.
The tall creature then flew its arms up ninety degrees and held out its wrists. It caught all the officers by surprise, as every one of them flinched.
“All right, somebody cuff him!” another officer yelled.
Bolton, still frozen, stuttered, “W-wait, d-don’t do it!” But he was too quiet, almost trancelike.
Another officer slowly walked up to the tall figure and pulled out his handcuffs. He still had his gun trained on the being.
“Wait, stop!” Bolton said loud enough so the police officer next to him could hear it.
“Wait, what?” said the officer.
Bolton snapped out of his trance. “DON’T DO IT!” he yelled.
The officer holding the cuffs looked over at Bolton. The tall being let out a loud, otherworldly roar and grabbed the officer by the jaw and put its other hand on his shoulder. With one pull, the top of the officer’s head was ripped from the rest of his body. Blood went flying.
Bullets exited the barrels of police handguns immediately and rapidly. The tall being jumped to another officer, and the bullets might as well have been rubber, as it shook them off without worry.
It wasn’t like the bullets didn’t hurt it or penetrate its skin—they did. The being just didn’t show it. It never made another sound other than its terrifying roar.
Then, it picked up another officer, grabbed him by the chest, and opened him up like a bag of potato chips. Guts dropped onto the pavement.
At that moment, Bolton fired a shot that hit the tall being in the side of its face, blowing what was left of its cheek and jaw off. It fell to the ground with a thud and died right there on the spot.
“God help us,” said Bolton, as he scanned the ground in awe. The remaining officers just stood there too. Shocked beyond belief.
One of the officers broke the silence by screaming with rage. He walked up to the tall being and unloaded the rest of his handgun’s clip into its torso. As the rest of the officers grabbed the one who couldn’t contain his rage, Bolton took his radio in his hand.
“We need emergency services at Fremont Bridge,” he said, while staring at the grotesque scene that lay before him. “Send everyone.”
*
The next morning, a dense fog rolled through the city of Portland. The sunrise attempted to peek through the clouds but was unsuccessful. The Nelsons found themselves staying in a small hotel in the center of town.
Lewis was in the bathroom, taking a shower, while Karissa was lying in bed, holding onto a pillow while staring at the wall. Neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep.
When Lewis got out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror. He pushed his dark brown hair over to the left side. Then he put on some shaving cream and began to shave his beard off. Completely. He felt as if shaving the whole thing off would be like starting over in a way.
After shaving, he looked at his reflection. He knew he had to stay strong for Karissa. He never saw the tall man’s face, but he could see how it had broken his wife down mentally. Plus, they both were heartbroken at the loss of Apollo. Lewis knew the only way he could help her was to move on and keep pushing forward.
He put on a red flannel and black jeans and walked out of the bathroom. Karissa was looking out the window now, still holding onto the pillow. Lewis walked up to her and wrapped his hands around her shoulders. He kissed the back of her head softly and said, “I love you, K.”
She closed her eyes while leaking a tear. “I love you too.”
Lewis kissed her head once more before walking over to his bag and pulling out his phone. “I’m going to take the day off, okay?”
She looked at him and said, “Me too.”
Lewis then called up Jack Garcia and told him what had happened, and Karissa could hear Jack saying over the phone, “Yeah, buddy, you take a few days if you need to. Make sure she’s okay.”
Karissa stood up and walked to the window. When she looked outside, she saw a single police vehicle sitting idle in the parking lot by their door. Two police officers were inside.
The police vehicle reminded her of what she’d seen the night before. Then she thought of Apollo. She never saw the body of their beloved dog, but she didn’t need to. She slowly moved toward her bag and pulled out some clothes.
Lewis, still on the phone, watched her make her way to the bathroom. He said his goodbyes to Jack and hung up the phone.
The shower turned on. Lewis sat there in silence and made sure Karissa was in the shower before turning on the hotel room TV. She was strong, always had been. But there were times when she would fall into an abyss. She had severe depression, and it would come and go at random times.
There were also those times—it had happened twice—where she would contemplate life and whether it was worth living. The doctor told Lewis to keep an eye on her, and make sure to stay with her during times when it seemed to be bad. Now, after the night before, he was on high alert.
It hadn’t happened for a long time because the two of them had created such a strong bond that, no matter what sort of day they had, they could always come home and enjoy each other’s company. They hardly fought, they were each other’s best friend, and they could tell each other everything.
And Lewis knew that now, more than ever, she needed him. And he needed her.
He picked up the remote and attempted to switch through all the channels to find the news. He finally got to channel 7, the local news station, and in big text at the bottom of the screen it read, “Two Police Officers Killed in Standoff: Suspect Dead at the Scene.”
Lewis had that same itch he had before. The itch that resided in the bottom of his brain.
The reporter on the screen said that a man had attempted to run from the police and then pulled a gun on them, causing a firefight that killed two police officers. They then went on to say that FBI Agent Andrew Bolton would address the issue for the public at around 8:00 a.m., which was about thirty minutes away. They then showed a drawing of a bald sixty-year-old man with blisters on his forehead and cheeks—the news anchor said that was the man involved in the shootout: “He stood around seven foot one.”
Even though the man on TV had a pretty messed up face, Lewis knew it wasn’t the face of the man from the night before. It wasn’t a face that would traumatize his wife. She was a fighter.
Lewis was confused for a moment and began thinking of an explanation, but then he heard the water turn off in the bathroom.
“Lewis? Is everything okay?” Karissa asked softly. Her voice was shaking, Lewis could tell she had been crying in the shower.
He quickly turned the TV off and said, “Yeah, baby, everything’s okay.”
He needed to see what Bolton was going to say at the press conference, but he loved his wife more, and he knew she couldn’t take any more of this. The best thing for her was to get her mind off of it.
She walked out of the bathroom with her hair still wet, wearing black leggings and a white T-shirt.
Lewis sat at the edge of the bed, He looked at her with his sad eyes, and she looked back at him. She could tell that he was trying his best to make her feel safe. She slowly walked up to him and sat down on his lap. They held each other, and she kissed him on the lips.
“What do we do?” she said while putting her head on his shoulder.
Lewis hesitated to speak before finally saying, “I don’t know, baby…but whatever we do, we’ll do it together. I promise.”
She cracked a small smile. In her mind, they were going to love one another. The police were going to help. She knew it would be hard, but maybe she and Lewis could go back to their normal lives.
The thoughts that raced through Lewis’ head were a bit different. That itch at the base of his skull, it got more irritating. All he could think of was that tall man. He felt like there was more to the story, and even though the police, and even the FBI, were on it, he felt as though he couldn’t afford to wait that long.