Chapter Fourteen

The day’s stifling air has cooled come the evening, the moon already up. Inside Aimee’s large bedroom, the windows are pushed wide open, and a gentle breeze saunters in to mix with electronica on the radio. She and Jenny rifle through a selection of tops, dresses and jeans, trying to decide which would suit Jenny best tonight. Aimee gently weaves to the beat, Jenny tapping a foot as she wraps tongs around her hair.

“I think he’d love you in this.” Aimee grins as she grabs a tight red top, holding it against her own chest.

“No way!” Jenny blurts, directing her eyes at the plunging neckline. “Not unless I want him staring down my top every time I bend over!”

Aimee laughs at her, inspecting the item before nodding subtly. “Fair enough. I’ll wear it then!”

Jenny pauses for a moment, wondering if she should tell her best friend about the antics from earlier in the day. “Matt would love that on you.” she instead says, looking at Aimee’s reflection. Her friend doesn’t reply, slipping on the low-cut dress and flirting with the mirror. Jenny watches for a moment, wondering when her trademark reaction will hit. “What’s wrong?” She puts the curlers to one side.

Aimee turns back round, gnawing at her lip. “It’s just... Erica not being here leaves a big hole tonight.” she admits. “I’m really missing her.” She smiles a little, trying to prevent tears.

“Me too Aims, me too. Come here.” Jenny comforts, trying not to well up herself as they hug. “I hate being in that house now that she’s not there. It’s so quiet, and knowing that... that she died in her room is... I can’t stomach going in there sometimes. It took me so long to get the place tidy again. I couldn’t keep going - I did a little, stopped, did some more, stopped again... I cried so much that day. I kept turning away our landlord as I needed to keep busy, just to take my mind off it.” she says as a lonely tear rolls down her cheek.

“Any luck on finding a new place?” Aimee asks, wiping her eyes.

“I haven’t started, I know I need to. The entire place reminds me of that horrible day, knowing...” Jenny suddenly seems lost in thought. “In fact, I’ll ask him later...” she mutters.

“Ask who, what?” Aimee quizzes. Suddenly the doorbell rings, and they both smile. The other girls are here.

“I’ll be back in a minute!” Jenny calls, darting out of the room. Aimee hangs onto her last words, trying to provide her own answer. She turns to the mirror to pose again, admiring her cleavage.

***

“Will there be any fitties?” Mike asks as he carefully irons his shirt.

“I heard that!” Sera calls from the kitchen.

Mike grins to himself. “She loves me, she does.”

“You’re an idiot.” Stu chuckles, slipping on his unpolished shoes.

“I second that!”

Mike and Stu laugh in tandem. “She’s got some other friends going,” says Stu, returning to the original question. “I think Jessica was a name I heard. Mind you, Aimee’s really nice to look at if I remember rightly.”

“Don’t be too greedy, you might end up with neither.” Mike tells him. “I’ll agree with you about Aimee though, however you would get on better with Jenny. If she regularly falls for weirdos, that is.”

“Thanks mate.” Stu retaliates, struggling to come up with his own witty retort. Sera then enters the lounge, not realising initially where Stu and Mike are located. She spots Stu in the armchair and jumps at the sight of him.

“Fraahh!” she freaks out, averting her eyes.

“You alright?” Mike queries, relinquishing the iron and turning it off.

“Yea - I’m fine. Stu was pulling a face, and it surprised me!” Mike chuckles and looks back at Stu.

“Not guilty.” he spreads his arms in self defence. Mike tuts and pops the shirt on, not paying any attention to either them as he does.

Stu peers over at Sera, long aware of this problem of hers. She busies herself on the side dresser, scrambling for something, keeping her gaze well away from him. “You ready then?” he asks, getting up as Mike posts the last button.

“Oh yea!” he replies, bounding over to Sera to pass on a quick kiss.

As they leave, Sera glances back as Stu enters the corridor, shaking her head in disappointment. Yet again that feeling gnaws at her stomach. Regaining her sight all those years ago was just as much a curse as it was a gift.

***

The busiest of Murkwood’s bars at the weekend, the Afterburner, is typically crammed, crowds of people jostling for space. The bar is rammed with swathes of punters, some armed with crinkled notes that they wave like flags in the wind. The music is loud and thumping, making any form of conversation near impossible.

Aimee pushes her way into some space by the rear windows, edging past the endless wall of drinkers, trying earnestly to not tip over her tray. She passes the first shot to the birthday girl, a large ‘21’ badge pinned to her top. Jenny yells something back at her, quickly downing the remainder of her bottle. Passing fresh shots to the others, Aimee raises hers above her head, yelling to beat the thump of the music.

“To Erica!” she shouts.

“To Erica!” the other women repeat as loud as they can. Aimee sheds a tear as she downs her shooter, firmly slamming the empty glass onto the nearest table.

“Come on, now let’s cheer up and dance!” Jenny calls to them. The five women merge into a larger group of men stood in conversation, Aimee instantly sliding up to a tall, gangly man and gyrating against him. The other friends, Jessica, Dawn and Annie, giggle at her and stick with one another, whilst Jenny dances on her own, ignoring the glances of watching men.

She keeps an eye on Aimee, watching the blonde tease her catch by suggestively rubbing her crotch against his leg and deftly stroking a breast against his arm. Laughing whilst she toys with him, Jenny wonders how long she’ll continue to cower behind her emotions.

***

Jenny clips her handbag shut and turns to Aimee, watching her check her eyeliner with a small mirror. Aimee is now back to her outgoing, almost maniacal self for the first time since Erica died. It’s a stark contrast to the same fragile woman of recent weeks.

“Be careful out there.” Jenny says. “You’re great at driving men wild with your antics, but when the wall comes down, they won’t be there to pick up the pieces. Matt will, and if he saw you here tonight, he’d -”

“Stop lecturing me!” Aimee snaps. “Matt doesn’t need to know anything about tonight. He’s been a prick recently, so bollocks to him.”

“Woah, okay. Sorry to have hit that nerve. What’s happened between you two?” Jenny’s left reeling by that reaction. “I thought you loved him!”

Aimee scoffs at her. “We were doing fine, until he starts to be an idiot for no reason. I don’t know what happened to him, but we had a massive argument right after Erica died and since then he’s been nothing short of clingy. He doesn’t go out with his mates anymore, he just works every hour possible so he can move out of his mothers house. He obsesses over me when we’re together, and I know he’s been listening in on my phone calls. It’s such a relief when I can get some time to myself - otherwise he would have driven me mad long before tonight. Even his workmate James has mentioned that something is different. He seems more autonomous, willing to keep working and stay unnoticed. That’s so unlike him.” She sighs and pauses. “It’s probably my fault though. I’ve been more distant since Erica, um, you know, and that’s when he started to get really angry for no reason. I could be pushing him away for all I know... the prick.” she says, nonchalant the whole time. “Oh, and I don’t love him. You know I don’t believe in that word.”

“Think you’ll split up?”

“I dunno, hun. Let’s just worry about tonight.” Aimee stands up, thoughtfully distant. “He does have a cute bum, and a gorgeous tat on his right shoulder. Good in bed too. As long as he gives me my space, we’ll be fine.” she reassures, taking back her bag.

“Cool. Good to hear.”

“What about you and your new fella?” Aimee asks as they step up to the sinks. She briefly checks herself in the mirror again.

“Stu? He’s not my fella!” she defends, lightly dousing her hands.

“Not going for it then?” Aimee quizzes. “We should pair him up with Jess. She can teach him a thing or two - or the other way round! Have you seen his body? The man must work out like a mule. Is there actually an inch of fat on him?” Jenny smiles and chuckles a little.

“When I saw him at the gym the other day, he was really going for it. He didn’t even break into a sweat. The guy must have amazing stamina.”

Aimee’s eyes widen and her mouth gapes, looking at Jenny through the mirror as a smile starts forming. “If you bed him - you tell me everything!” she winks suggestively. Looking over at the door as another pair of chatting women walk in, Aimee relaxes as the thumping tunes from beyond briefly increase in volume and clarity. She turns back to Jenny, who notices that something is amiss.

“What’s up?”

“It’s been seven months, nearly. You think I should jack it all in?” Aimee asks.

“Only you can make that decision.” Jenny answers. “It’s always the same with you - six months and it all falls apart...” Jenny smiles at her and leaves. Aimee stares at her complexion a little longer, pouting as she leans in to longingly kiss her reflection. As she leaves, she winks at one of the other occupants.

***

“Anvil?” Mike bids, stopping right outside the alley. Stu glances over to the medieval clock tower at the top of the street, and motions him in.

“We should have enough time.”

“Where are they again? I know you’ve told me, what, seven times now? I just keep forgetting.”

“Afterburner, Sasquatch. And that’s the ninth time.” They duck into the open door. Noticing him heading for the bar already, Mike does his usual and diverts toward the quiz machine.

Stu rounds a pair of older looking people sat quietly, one of the women perched on a bar stool closest to him. Looking at the barman, he turns back, expecting to see Mike right behind. Stu turns back to the bar, unsurprised.

“Two pints, please.” Stu asks, pointing to the nearest pump. He then realizes the woman just to his right is looking forlornly past him, right out of the window opposite. He recognises her from a previous visit. She doesn’t look as gaudy as before, instead her small, narrow eyes are drooped and gaze sorrowfully lost. Her saggy mouth has been robbed of the crinkly smile Stu remembers. She then notices him looking at her, and she seems to warm to him.

“Hey. What are you up to tonight, young stud?” she croaks.

Stu stares back, realising that she’s here purely out of habit. “A friend’s birthday - well, my girlfriend’s, actually.” he replies, completely disguising his fabrication.

“Really?” she pauses, returning to her original gaze. “Shame.” Stu frowns, feeling embarrassed on her behalf. He looks past her, certain of the point of her grief. “I used to come here with my mother, but she died just over a week ago. She liked young men.” Stu looks at her craggy mother on the stool behind - she’s a more significant shade of grey than anyone else around. Stu pointedly averts from her direct gaze, making it seem that he’s just looking through her.

Grabbing the two pints, he returns to Mike’s side, passing over one during a break in the game.

“Nice one.” Mike slurps. “Looked like you were getting some action. I’m surprised you came back.” Mike sniggers as he sips a little more. Stu frowns back at him.

“I reckon she’s hot for me, you know, always giving me those sly looks.” Stu says. Mike offers him a puzzled look.

“That old bird?” he exclaims.

“No - your missus. She’s always giving me funny looks.” Stu grins.

Mike rolls his eyes. “That’s because you’re one ugly motherfucker.” he replies in an impressive Austrian accent.

“Maybe it’s the muscles.”

Mike laughs out loud, looking over at him to catch a quick flex. Mike copies, even though the comparison is woefully mismatched. “Damn you.”

Stu smirks back at him. “Cock.”

“All twelve inches inches of it!”

Stu cackles. “Mine you mean? Like a python, mate. No - anaconda!” They break into simultaneous laughter and smack fists. Mike returns to the quiz machine, trying his best to ignore whatever it is between Stu and Sera. Thinking, he lets slip: “Nah...”

“Hmm?” Stu queries, attention locked on the screen in front.

“Doesn’t matter.” Mike retorts, starting a new game.

***

Aimee and Jenny dance closely, the other three women slinking their bodies around them. A few drunken men watch on, one winding his hips in expectation of one of them joining him. Another guy stands near with his arms folded, burning eyes locked firmly on Aimee and her suggestive moves. People pass in front of him repeatedly, but not once does his eye line falter or shift. He blends well into the half shadows surrounding him, his gaze determined and imposing.

Aimee grins at Jenny as she moves away, spotting a random guy dancing alone, slithering up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Jenny and the others continue to dance without her, until she spots a familiar face lurking to her left. He looks menacing over there, and Jenny needs to tell her.

“Matt’s here!” she yells. Aimee just smiles back, clearly unaware of what she said. Looking to her left again, Matt is suddenly upon them, shoving the unsuspecting guy into a crowd of men. A half pint of lager smashes into a foaming spray. Aimee can’t fail to spot her boyfriend now, shouting a barrage of abuse at him the moment she sees him. He just stares back, his scowl having no effect on her.

The guy he pushed springs back up, landing a heavy punch straight across Matt’s cheek. He hardly flinches, stepping back once to steady himself. Other people become aware and stop dancing, watching in anticipation.

“You deserved that, you prick!” Aimee screams. Matt straightens up and faces the guy, finding himself dwarfed by almost a foot. The guy goads him, urging a rush, his verbal onslaught accompanied by globules of spit. Aimee’s face is flooded with similar resentment, a pointed finger stabbing the air. Matt is completely unfazed by them both.

The guy instantly throws another loaded punch, but Matt blocks, fiercely grabbing his assailants arm and twisting it the wrong way. He wrenches it upwards, jerking it so quickly that the resulting shriek could signal either a clean break or a muscle torn from the very same bone. The tall man winces, yelping in pain, and tumbles down as Matt lets go, turning back to Aimee and clamping her wrist.

“Owww!” she yells, the incapacitating pinch making her double over in agony.

“Matt!” Annie shouts, slapping him across the arm. He ignores it, dragging Aimee off towards the exit. Jenny follows, spotting a bouncer grab Matt by the collar and hoist him away from Aimee. She scatters back, delicately holding the red finger marks that burn her arm. Matt doesn’t object to being evicted, letting the bouncer drag him out. A furious Aimee is quick to follow, already ignorant of the abrasion. Jenny motions to the other three girls where they’re headed; Dawn nods in reply.

“You’re such a wanker!” she screams this time, audible as they reach the foyer. All eyes watch in surprise, seeing Matt willingly slither out without resistance. His cold stare is locked on Aimee, wry smile evidence of how well he’s upset her.

As Jenny hurries after them, she spots Mike in the queue, clocking his befuddled gaze. Stu is next to him, rifling through spare change. Mike nudges him, and he looks up to see Jenny willing him to follow. Not needing any encouragement, they both follow her out. Jenny slows up to meet with them, just as the pair try to catch up on events.

“Do you know him?” Mike asks, pointing at Matt.

“Yea, he’s Aimee’s boyfriend.” Jenny replies, staying so close to Stu that he feels inclined to place his hand across her lower back.

“He looks happy.” Stu drolls, noticing a peculiar haze about the guy. Jenny grumbles in retort.

“Aimee was saying earlier how much of an idiot he’s recently become. He just started on some guy she was dancing with, and did something to his arm, he may have broken it.” She replies. “Even if she was being inappropriate, there’s better ways to deal with this sort of thing.”

“Ah yes, I did see him leave. Looked like he was in significant pain.” Mike adds. As they leave amidst the woosh of an afterburner at the front door, the injured man is sat on the kerb, night clearly over for him now. His gnashed teeth are flared and his eyes stained with tears. A friend is frantically calling for an ambulance. The bouncer has gone the other way, meaty hand now gripped tightly around Matt’s throat. As he drags him toward an alley, the bouncer easily throws him out of sight. Aimee stops at the turn as the bouncer trudges back inside, Jenny, Stu and Mike quickly joining her. Matt lies there, surrounded by discarded rubbish and a pile of plump refuse bags. He stares back at his girlfriend as he starts to get back up. He then observes Stu, standing prominently in front of Jenny and Mike. He stares at him now, a flicker of recognition flashing across his eyes. Stu just glares back.

“You really don’t want to bother me, mate.” Aimee looks at Stu, then to Jenny. Suddenly Matt charges at him, knocking past Aimee before Stu cracks an almighty punch square across his nose. Matt flops to the ground in a heap and Stu straightens his fingers out, cracking them as they extend.

“Nice one.” Mike adds.

“Did you have to?” Aimee complains, crouching down to check on Matt, finding him unconscious. Stu protests his innocence, realising that Jenny is on his side. Aimee runs her fingers through her boyfriend’s hair, wanting to help soak up the blood spluttering from his nose. Mike looks away, noticing a lot of the undetected watchers disperse. “Just leave us alone. Please.” Aimee demands.

Jenny drags Mike off with her, struggling to budge Stu. “Come on.” she pleads.

“I’ll be in shortly.” Stu replies. Jenny pauses, quickly realising his willingness to stay. She moves off and manages to take Mike with her.

“What do you want?” Aimee exhales, cradling Matt’s head. “We’re just going through some problems - we don’t need any help.” Stu crouches down next to her.

“Considering he almost snapped another guy’s arm, I’d rather not see him do a similar thing to you - or worse.” Aimee looks at him, surprised at his honesty. “You’re sure everything’s alright?”

Her face suddenly contorts. “Just who the hell do you think you are?” she snarls, tears glistening her eyes. “What are you, a counsellor? Psychiatrist? Just plain fucking nosy?” Stu leans back, pondering his next route. Aimee then pushes Matt off of her, rolling him back toward the bin bags. Getting up and dusting her backside down, she storms off. “Get rid of him when he wakes up. Make sure he doesn’t get back in.” She grumbles, disappearing out of the alley.

Stu gets to his feet, watching her walk off. Sighing at her fractious actions, he folds his arms and just waits.

Back inside the entrance to the bar, beyond the bouncers, Jenny waits with Mike. As soon as Aimee is near, the women embrace, firmly hugging as if they were just about to see one another for the last time.

“Stu will sort him out.” Mike announces, keeping his distance. Aimee fights back the tears, looking over at Mike and smiling slightly.

“Thank you.” She replies.

“Let’s get some more drinks in. I’m not having Matt ruin all of my birthday!” Jenny smiles as she tries her earnest to keep her own tears at bay. Mike follows them in, checking briefly to see if Stu is returning yet.

***

Fifteen minutes have passed once Matt begins to stir. Startled, he throws his burrowed head up, looking around at his filthy surroundings. He sees Stu propped up against the wall, arms folded and piercing eyes staring him down.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, watching him get up. Matt instantly lunges for him, firing a lame punch that cleanly misses Stu. Matt’s hand crumples on contact with the brick wall, blood spitting from split knuckles. He doesn’t wince, instead coming at Stu with another punch, yet again missing his target. Stu ducks the next attack, stepping back into the dark alley. He quickly tires of this, launching a fierce drive into Matt’s lower gut. Winded, he collapses to his knees, pressing a bloodied fist against the ground.

“Hnnnggghhhh...”

“Hurts?” Stu queries, distancing himself a little. Matt suddenly lurches up, bounding forward and tackling his opponent. He rams his shoulder into Stu’s stomach and drives him back, pushing as hard as he can. Stu, using Matt’s own momentum, grabs the side of his jeans and hoists him up and to the side, launching him into a spinning motion that ends with him slamming into a nearby steel door. As Matt’s body lumps into the ground, his wallet and phone scatter away from him. Stu slows to a halt, looking back out towards the end of the alley to see if their commotion has alerted anyone. Returning his attention to Matt, he quickly dodges him again, his attacker losing momentum and hitting the ground with a hard smack. Stu stands over him, wondering when he’s just going to relent.

“You’re in my way. You’re always in my way.” Matt scowls, looking up as sweat beads down his dirty forehead. “I’m only here for Aimee this time.” As the words trail from his lips, his shadowy outline twitches, a close-fitting silhouette hovering just past his own frame. Stu didn’t initally notice it within the dark of the alley.

“I think you need to stay away from her.” Stu says, noticing a slowing ambulance nip past the alley entrance. The blue lights fill the darkness briefly, stretching shadows longer and deeper. With his attention lacking, Matt slams his foot into Stu’s ankle. It only makes him hop back once, unfazed.

“Fuck you then!” Stu snarls, thrusting a palm out and hitting Matt with an electrical blast that crackles a deep green. Matt squirms and his body fits, tingling numbness paralysing him. He struggles to speak, weariness crippling him. Stu rubs his shin, annoyed that he let that happen. “That’s what you get for pissing me off.”

Pacing from one side of the alley to the other, Stu looks down at Matt once again, wondering if this silhouette is trailing remnants of the schattengeist. He sees Aimee’s boyfriend squirm some more, trying to roll onto his back.

“You can’t have Aimee.” he repeats.

“Yea yea, keep it up.”

“I said you can’t have her! Why are you not listening?”

“What?” Stu calls, unsure on what he’s hearing.

“I won’t lose her to you, not like the last one. She needs to stay with me. I will take her back.” he growls, still tempered with anger. Stu is foxed, unsure whether anyone else actually has her. Then Matt scrambles to his feet, but not quickly enough. Stu anticipates well, striking him clean across the stomach. Matt hits the concrete hard once again, skidding to a stop. Stu immediately spots the black shadow still stood tall, exactly where Matt just was. Stu is initially surprised. Perhaps this is another one of the demons that killed Sam, having already destroyed the one that tormented Jenny and killed Erica. It had taken three of them that day, and perhaps now they had returned for more.

Matt groans as he gets to his feet, the silhouette snapping back around him, returning the slight hue that doubles as an aura. Stu immediately grabs him by the collar and swings him round to eye level. He tightly clutches Matt by the hair, clamping him in a headlock and smothering his mouth with his other hand. Matt squirms, trying to free himself and slapping at Stu with his hands. Stu’s strength is far superior, and he kicks out Matt’s legs to force him down. A deep blue shard of lightning fizzles on his palm, leaking into Matt’s open mouth. Tensing his muscles, Stu’s arm gleams a dull blue, glowing from within the vein.

“Please, close your eyes.”

Matt shudders as his body reacts to the electricity, his limbs convulsing frantically. Stu presses his hand harder against his mouth, charging the current so that it fizzes and pops. Then he draws back, bringing with it a twisted, blackened husk that clings tightly to the corners of the host’s mouth. The shape struggles with the electrocution initially, choking on the streams and worming back down the throat of its helpless captive. Stu grimaces as he can’t keep a hold, anger flashing across his face as the electricity bleeds from blue to red, quickly suffocating the wispy form. The attack bleeds into instability, flailing bolts spitting and exploding here and there, crackling like a noisy static radio. The inside of Matt’s mouth illuminates and his skin begins to crack at every pore. His eyes, still wide open, start to melt, bubbling intensely and spitting fiery blood. And yet, Stu continues, unaware of the deadly change of current.

Matt stops convulsing, his body snapping rigidly as the intensity charges right through him. One eye explodes and splatters Stu’s hand, fizzing his skin as a corrosive acid would. Matt twitches no more, and he begins to crumble into embers. His skin peels away and floats upwards, glowing orange like hot ash, quickly fading into nothing. As his lower body dissolves, Stu’s grip around his throat loosens until nothing is left, scorching his bare flesh. He lets the remainder of Matt’s head go but it stays stuck to his palm, still charged with his dark power. As the last decapitated remnants crumble out of existence, Stu’s electrical charge flickers and winds down, fully disappearing seconds later. He checks the black line across the inside of his forearm, and then the bubbling wound on his other hand. He then scans for any watching eyes.

“Two schattengeists down?” he ponders, dusting himself down, unsure if he ever fully beat the first one. Looking at the boiling blood trickling down his hand, he shakes it as much as possible to rid any he can, deciding not to wipe the remainder on his clothing. It smokes and cracks the skin around his knuckles, eating at his flesh with ease. It’s only then that he realises that Matt is not right in front of him - and he numbs the realisation before it can even fathom as an emotion.

Scanning the area at his feet, he detects a mobile phone and wallet amidst the sealed rubbish bags. Picking them both up, he flips open the wallet and stares at what he finds, continuing to suppress any form of guilt. Before him is a passport sized photo of Matt and Aimee from a happier time, their loving gaze a stark reminder that, even though possessed, Matt should have been saved.

Stu hurls the wallet to the floor, his palms crackling briefly as he condemns himself. Scooping it back up, he removes the few notes within and tucks them into his back pocket. He wants to shake his head in disbelief, trying to tell himself his actions will yield repercussions. Unfortunately, things like this sometimes have to happen. Her name flashes through his head. Sam.

Now empty of money, Stu stuffs the wallet deep into the closest wheelie bin to hide it from view. Picking up the phone, he checks the contacts list, then the photo gallery, figuring that it must also have been Matt’s. He clamps his fist shut and supercharges the mobile, making it bang to leave the shell hot and burnt. He tosses the smoking remnants into the bin bags at his feet, and leaves the alley. He shakes his fist again, wafting the smoke that dusts his palm.