Gripping his gun with sweaty hands and nervously flattening himself against the wall, Matthew slowly peeped out from the corner. He recoiled fast. pasting himself back and closing his eyes. The wall felt hard and cold against his damp shirt. He wiped his forehead and looked towards the way he had come.
His night-vision goggles were not helping him much. These ghosts were cold-blooded. He took a deep breath and crept slowly back, looking piercingly into the dark. click the soft sound of metal against stone froze him mid-step. He turned to look back and felt a sharp prick in his chest. With vision blurring and movements slowed, Matthew turned to look, but his vision clouded over, then he blacked out.
He woke up with a pain that burned brightly from his insides. His hands failed to obey his commands. They had paralyzed him somehow. Who were they? His mind revolted against the pain, refusing to think, and he blacked out, almost. A smell of stinky socks displaced the feeling of pain, for now. He could hardly breathe. How he hated that smell. It was choking him to death. His mind fell into a dreamlike state, reliving the past day and night.
He could recall the four of them bandits returning to their respective lodgings. where were we? His mind spun, unable to recall the events of the previous day. He cursed his memory, gritting his teeth at the pain that effort cost him. He awakened from the dream. Pain burned into him like a firestorm. He let out a scream of rage and pain, and blacked out.
Maria sat alone in her hotel room, ticking away the time absently with her pen. She looked towards her watch, and shook her head. Matthew had been gone for ten hours now. The first rays of morning were now streaming through the window. She turned over the events of the past thirty hours in her mind.
Arriving at Andora’s hideout, they had been “briefed” by him. From his limited knowledge of them, he knew that ghosts would not be seen in daylight because U.V. light were deadly to them. A minute of exposure, and they would die. Although they were translucent, they blood vessels made them appear light-grey. The base for this grey blood of theirs was unknown. They had bulging eyes that stood out of their heads and foreheads that went far above the eyebrows, or rather, where their eyebrows were supposed to be. For in place of those, they had beeping red “lights” that would “turn on” when exposed to U.V.
That was about it. That next day she spent in her favorite hobby, sleeping. She had waked in time to see Matthew stealthily leave through the back door, his brow creased with worry. She marked time, and went to sleep. She had just awakened. Wiping the sleepiness from her face, she got up and left the room.
A man in a police off-duty uniform walked nervously down the main street. He would turn every few hundred yards to look back. At one such turning, he quickly turned back and took the first turn he came to. He silently turned and composed himself, taking out a bulky envelope from his pocket. A few moments later, Mark turned the same corner. Inclining his head towards him, Mark advanced and took the envelope from him. The man in the police uniform quickly brushed past Mark and disappeared into the crowd. Mark stared after him with a mocking smile and shook his head. Putting the envelope into his front coat pocket, he took the shortest route to the hideout.
The hideout was a sparsely furnished house in the poorer side of the city. It was one storey tall, had no bedrooms, although it had two beds tucked into one side. The kitchen had been joined to the main room to provide more space for a huge room. The cellar extended under the whole house to the street outside. The loot collected were stored within. Taking their meals elsewhere, they found it convenient not to have a kitchen. The only other piece of furniture was a table and chair, on which Andora was relaxing after a hard night’s drinking at a nearby bar.
Mark took out the envelope from his coat and placed it on the table. Within was a long letter, filled with the names of all turned police officers, codes for banks and vaults, and schematics and security detail to the house of a very rich inhabitant by the name of Cornele.
At the end of the letter was a piece of information Andora thought as well to enlighten Mark with. It read:
And finally, my master, yesterday morning I saw within the cube, which contains the name of all officers, past and present, five new unfamiliar names. I looked them up, and found that two are at present absent. The other three were always together. They were of course having a secret of some sort, because they would break away at my approach. Just thought to let you know.
Always your servant,
Assistant deputy Chief,
Zodroch
“Has to sign himself like that, huh?” Mark mocked the letter.
“Well, he is a good informant.”
Andora sighed and leaned forward in his chair. “Has Gondra found anything yet?”
“Unfortunately, I found her dead the day after I asked her about it.”
“We’ll need another--”
There was a loud knock at the door. Andora tucked away the letter, nodded towards the peephole in the wall and walked towards the door itself. Mark turned up his thumb after looking through the hole.
“Maria!” Andora greeted with his usual fake enthusiasm
Maria walked in, looking worn out.
“Problems with Matthew? There’s a lot of space here.” Andora always had to be insinuating.
Maria shook her head, weary. “No. He left for somewhere last night, and has not appeared since then.”
“Ah, how unfaithful!” Andora said with condescension.
Maria felt like she could have kicked him in the head, but restrained that urge. “He went to look at those ghosts whatever.”
“How do you know?” Andora asked skeptically.
“I saw what he was carrying!” She was exasperated.
“Uh.” Andora spun on his heels.
“Fell in love with one of them? Oh! We must ressscue him.” He leaned back and let out a hysterical laugh.
“Let us search for your lost love, shall we?” He went to the table, drew out three U.V. flashlights, tossed two to his companions, and headed out the door.
Now he woke up again. He knew not how long he had been here. Time had just. Stopped. At least so it seemed, to him. Goose bumps sprinkled his skin as he saw a sharp needle descend into his thigh. He screamed, the pain being unbearable. He felt rather than saw a figure hunching over his feet. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a big dome sliding towards his head. He struggled desperately to free himself from his paralysis. The figure at his feet poked another needle into him.
He felt like he could explode from the pain, and that things couldn’t get any worse. He was wrong. The dome had now slide over his head, covering his face with an eerie darkness he could not stand. The sound as of screwdrivers slammed into his ears. His scalp felt like it was being separated from the rest of him. He screamed, unable to bear anymore. Suddenly the pain stopped. He felt as though he was being separated from his body.
Immediately pieces of the puzzle began to arrange themselves in his head. He understood now. He had to remain conscious. He struggled against the force that was tugging at his consciousness, and seemed to split into two. Part of him remained, but part of him disappeared into oblivion. In its place a weird presence came. It was alien. It thought unlike him. He could feel it’s thoughts, and was sure it could feel his.
The dome now lifted himself from his head, and he felt his hand come to his head. He was surprised, knowing he had not wanted hat to happen. Resolutely, he mentally ordered his hand down, and it went down halfway before coming up again. No! The alien was controlling his body. He felt his body moving haltingly towards the door. Inside, however, the battle for control over his body was hardly started.
After awhile, he began to understand the alien presence in him, and it him. Their battles grew more intense as the moments passed. The door. Both wanted to reach it, but for totally different reasons. He understood that not all of the alien’s consciousness had been transferred in. It was unsettling to him to realize that he now knew that his memories were lost to him. That was uncomfortable.
The alien with him assured him that both of them now had no more memories, relying purely on their former programming. Matthew’s programming as an undercover police now kicked in, urging him to report. But report where? He could not remember. On the other hand, the alien’s programming wanted him to report to the police station as no longer fit for undercover work.
Stumbling and weaving, the body found its way to the police headquarters. Its bloody appearance caused quite a stir in the normally calm atmosphere. Both Matthew and the alien demanded, in the same sentence, to see the Chief, and was duly conducted to Marcy’s office.
“Madam,” Both began.
“I” Matthew started
“have to report something.” He finished painfully.
“I can’t” The alien began
“can” Matthew corrected
“No can’t” The alien was furious and forced the body into convulsions.
“It is evident that you are unfit for service. You will be put in the secure part of the hospital pending an evaluation of your mental condition.” Marcy waved him off. Inside, the battle raged on wildly, and Matthew’s body now looked no more than a wreck.
Continued...
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