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#2
MAY 12 |
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“Second Draft”
As his thoughts return to life, sprung back from the brink of vanishing forever by the vibrating motor inside the phone in his pants pocket, Eric found warmth inside his soul one again. Almost as though he felt color returning to his cleanly trimmed face, the digital clock on the left monitor read ten minutes to five. A slight expression of life crawled over his face, fighting back the void that swallowed him whole merely eight hours before, giving rise to almost a smile.
The half-assed attempt was all his broken soul was able to muster these days.
He spent his last minutes preparing the final report to send to his supervisor, hoping that for once maybe all the 'work' he'd accomplished for the day would matter to someone else, other than the other eight people that would likely take credit. But he laughed a pitiful little laugh and remembered how much a farce that hope truly was. He sent his final email of the day, shutting down the required programs he’d used and slipped on the black blazer that always hung on the right wall of his plastic three-quarter-enclosed prison.
Eric waved at all his phony friends, racing to the door in hopes an elevator would be waiting. Disappointment greets him once again as the doors closed on the over-crowded vehicle of escape just in time to watch them all wave good-bye to him. He stood in the sixth floor lobby searching the face of his watch every few seconds, alternatively watching a woman with whom he’d barely ever spoken incessantly press the elevator call button.
He sighed and thought about the trek down six flights of stairs and, as he made the decision, fate argued once more by sounding the elevator's bell. A sad state of affairs when something as small as a bell can make one salivate with rage, but all the same he crammed inside the steel box and counted backward from one-hundred as was his customary habit.
The box opened on the ground floor as Eric reached negative seventy-four in his countdown. Nearly three-minutes passed between his professional hell and the counting at least kept his mind focused in reality, as his therapist wanted, but it was all for naught as the cold air slapped him in the face. Thirty paces away, the blonde curls of his wife appeared in his line of sight and once more the thought of fleeing took flight in his mind. As his eyes met hers the vomit in his gut shifted.
His professional hell was behind him; however, his personal hell was now waiting to claim what was left of his soul now.
A small accident just ahead slowed the commuter traffic to a standstill. Eric gripped the wheel tighter as numerous horns blared in every direction around his vehicle. “I wish you would listen to me,” his marginally attractive wife spoke from the back with that angry look frozen on her face. “The parkway is always terrible this time of day. If you would've taken Blankenship we wouldn't be stuck in this mess!” He rolled his eyes and swallowed a tumor's weight in hatred for the woman he’d knocked up too early in life, if only to ignore her for a few more moments. “Are you listening to me?”
He wanted, badly, to tell her the truth but only, “yes, dear” escaped his lips and his eyes fell to his lap. Like the broken soul he housed within his shell, Eric could not bring himself to argue in front of the two girls strapped in their car seats, even though he knew that the two little demons in the back would not spare him the same consideration as a fellow human being.
No, their mother had taught them all-too well how to hate.
The stinging quickly subsided but his scalp continued to burn for a few more moments as the traffic started to crawl forward. His grip on the steering wheel remained tight and he tried to slow the anger inside his heart, to no avail. With traffic moving again, he whipped the wheel to the left, swerving the vehicle violently and using inertia to enact a small revenge against his wife's rib cage. He'll thank his eldest daughters' car seat later, but for the next twenty minutes the commute remained quiet, though not without the violent eyes peering through his soul inside the rear-view mirror.
He pulled the car to rest beside the truck that gas prices make impossible to drive, especially on a single income household. Evie races to the door, leaving their three and six year old daughters still strapped in their seats. The toddlers scream for their mother and the shrill voices tear through his eardrums. With no help from the princess standing at the front door, tapping her foot, Eric fights through the tinnitus and releases the two terrors from their imprisonment. They’d sooner step over his dead body than be separated from their mother, pushing their father aside and run to the door. Eric was able only to grab the keys from the ignition and take a step forward before he hears that bellowing voice that commands, “Groceries in the trunk!”
Eric stretches the elastic cord away from the lock to release the damaged storage compartment and pulls out the expensive fabric bags of Organimart foodstuffs and pretends not to see the receipt. His shoulders ache from the load in both arms and his pace to the door will never be fast enough for her. Even with his hands full he struggles to open the front door until the woman grabs the keys and finally does something herself. He kicks open the door and is immediately assaulted by thirty-six hour garbage left festering in the can, which is enough to cause a dry heave or six. “Guess what you forgot to do, again?” she spits.
“You mean to tell me you've been sitting her all day in this stench?”
Her hands grip both hips. “Of course not! I took the girls to Mothers'!”
She continued to rant again but with an entire house to maintain, he hardly had the time to give a damn. Eric stepped through the laundry littered across the floor of the laundry room and clipped the leash on the dog. Dropping to one knee he apologized to the hound he called Bandit and petted the middle-aged mutt. He grabbed the trash on the way out the door and almost escaped further insult. “Dinner in thirty, I'm god damned hungry.”
He shut the door and though about how easy it would be to not come back but he knew better and, beyond that, where could he go? Eric walked with the dog on his usual trail of sidewalks through the neighborhood, waving at the random neighbors that drove by, yet more people that could not be bothered to give him the time of day. The dog stayed by his side, keeping pace to Eric while he spoke to himself, mostly to hear a voice that honestly gave a damn for once.
Eric walked upon the dog park about ten minutes into the walk and released Bandit to stretch his legs. Near his foot, Eric saw a neighbor left a heavily used tennis ball at the park. It was a strange thing, he pondered to himself, that such a simple exercise could bring him joy. No more thoughts to plague him, no nagging wife, just fetch with the dog.
“
I can bring you joy.”
Eric halts his motion mid-throw and, with a quizzical expression on his face, he jerked his heard to look in every direction, searching for a face that belonged to the voice. “I might be losing it, buddy.” Eric tries to laugh it off and throws the ball again.
“
Eric halts his motion mid-throw and, with a quizzical expression on his face, he jerked his heard to look in every direction, searching for a face that belonged to the voice. “I might be losing it, buddy.” Eric tries to laugh it off and throws the ball again.
“
No, Eric, you cannot lose that which you never had.”
The voice vaulted through his mind. “Who...”
“
The voice vaulted through his mind. “Who...”
“
There is much potential in you and I think we can help one another.”
His hands begin to shake and Bandit, in turn, starts to whine. “This isn't funny.” Eric's voice trembled and his eyes saw nothing. “Not funny at all!”
He breathes deeply, trying to collect himself but he can barely stand. Doubt riddled all across his mind but several minutes passed and silence seemed to calm his mind. Eric dropped to a knee to clasp the leash to the dog's collar again. “
His hands begin to shake and Bandit, in turn, starts to whine. “This isn't funny.” Eric's voice trembled and his eyes saw nothing. “Not funny at all!”
He breathes deeply, trying to collect himself but he can barely stand. Doubt riddled all across his mind but several minutes passed and silence seemed to calm his mind. Eric dropped to a knee to clasp the leash to the dog's collar again. “
It's amusing to me, your life and that of your pet aren't very different.” The voice returns, it too another insult. “
She orders and you fetch…do you not want more for yourself?”
Eric presses his hands to his head, “Shut up!” he repeats again and again.
“
Eric presses his hands to his head, “Shut up!” he repeats again and again.
“
I'm sorry, Eric, but I cannot do that.” The monotone voice continues.
A smell like ozone fills the air like a coming storm, without wind or weather to signal the oncoming rain. Eric's curiosity spreads from self doubt to the physical realm and turning to genuine worry. Fearing a stroke, he climbs the chain link fence to help gain his feet, though fear has turned his extremities to jelly.
“
A smell like ozone fills the air like a coming storm, without wind or weather to signal the oncoming rain. Eric's curiosity spreads from self doubt to the physical realm and turning to genuine worry. Fearing a stroke, he climbs the chain link fence to help gain his feet, though fear has turned his extremities to jelly.
“
That fear you feel, it will all be a thing of the past.”
A low thunder rumbles across the sky. It's almost missed by human ears but felt inside Eric's chest after it ruptured the sound barrier. The rank ozone smell makes him dizzy as the rumble becomes a deafening roar. Bandit runs off screaming into the woods and his master falls to his face soon after. His weakened body gathers enough strength to pull himself up to his knees and a bright streak of yellow flies across the sky. It was so bright that even in the day-lit midday it burned his eyes like a lightning bolt, forking its snaked tongue down to the ground and shattering the ground just in front of the pitiful man on his knees. The impact took him off the ground but he never hits the ground.
“
A low thunder rumbles across the sky. It's almost missed by human ears but felt inside Eric's chest after it ruptured the sound barrier. The rank ozone smell makes him dizzy as the rumble becomes a deafening roar. Bandit runs off screaming into the woods and his master falls to his face soon after. His weakened body gathers enough strength to pull himself up to his knees and a bright streak of yellow flies across the sky. It was so bright that even in the day-lit midday it burned his eyes like a lightning bolt, forking its snaked tongue down to the ground and shattering the ground just in front of the pitiful man on his knees. The impact took him off the ground but he never hits the ground.
“
Come now, Eric, I cannot let you come to harm. We need each other, you know.”
Enveloped in a yellow hue, he gently touched the ground and stared down inside a crater. “
Enveloped in a yellow hue, he gently touched the ground and stared down inside a crater. “
Go to it, come collect me and we'll make everything understand how powerful you can be.”
Toward the center of the animal run park, Eric struggled to stare down into the newly formed crater. He wiped the dirt from his face and squeezed his eyes to force tears to wash out his eyes. His efforts were mostly worthless, as the golden light at the center of the wide hole blinded his vision to little more than a haze. “
Toward the center of the animal run park, Eric struggled to stare down into the newly formed crater. He wiped the dirt from his face and squeezed his eyes to force tears to wash out his eyes. His efforts were mostly worthless, as the golden light at the center of the wide hole blinded his vision to little more than a haze. “
Just walk down, Eric. Fear is only useful when it’s inflicted, but you already know all about that. Do you not?”
Eric nervously tried to swallow but found his mouth too dry, his fight or flight mechanism entirely failed him and he only continued to stand and stare down the hole for three minutes before taking the first fateful step downward. “
Eric nervously tried to swallow but found his mouth too dry, his fight or flight mechanism entirely failed him and he only continued to stand and stare down the hole for three minutes before taking the first fateful step downward. “
That's it, Eric, nice and slow, no need to rush.”
One foot in front of the other and Eric slowly trekked down the loose dirt at the craters' wall. His footing slipped several steps in and his control of the situation ended. Tumbling down and landing just at the base, the light seemed all but gone now, almost as though it burned itself out. Under a foot of hot earth, the voice repeated a single command, a whispered: “Dig, Eric.” His hands push through the discomfort, the earth between his fingers sting at the heat bubbling just below the surface.
Below the loose dirt and gravel, Eric uncovered a gold ring with a round cut jewel anchored at the top. Almost a jaundiced topaz, but not quite as low quality a gem, something... “
One foot in front of the other and Eric slowly trekked down the loose dirt at the craters' wall. His footing slipped several steps in and his control of the situation ended. Tumbling down and landing just at the base, the light seemed all but gone now, almost as though it burned itself out. Under a foot of hot earth, the voice repeated a single command, a whispered: “Dig, Eric.” His hands push through the discomfort, the earth between his fingers sting at the heat bubbling just below the surface.
Below the loose dirt and gravel, Eric uncovered a gold ring with a round cut jewel anchored at the top. Almost a jaundiced topaz, but not quite as low quality a gem, something... “
Not of your world, Eric. Take it and it will suit you fine.”
He resisted the voice at first, looking up the smooth walls of the hole and wondering quietly how to free himself. And then he looks at the ring. “This thing, caused this mess? This little thing?”
“
He resisted the voice at first, looking up the smooth walls of the hole and wondering quietly how to free himself. And then he looks at the ring. “This thing, caused this mess? This little thing?”
“
It can do so much more than destroy.” The voice spoke. “
It creates even your wildest dreams.”
Eric stared at it. “Then why give it to me?”
“
Eric stared at it. “Then why give it to me?”
“
To say it simply, I am imprisoned within it. As I said, we can help one another.”
“Why me?”
“
“Why me?”
“
There is a stunning array and variety of life in the cosmos, but only a handful are able to act as the sort of divining rod I need.” His heart raced and the voice repeated, “
Take it, Eric. We will set each other free.”
“What the hell?” Eric laughed, doubting his sown sanity. “Gold is up; I can at least melt it down and get a little cash.”
Eric reaches down and the instant his flesh touches the metal, searing heat coursed through his body. Golden hued electricity climbed his right hand and up his arm, blazing across his chest and moving across his entire body. Pain riddled every inch of skin but he was unable to utter a sound. Eric collapsed, his body limp as he fell over into a heap a steaming flesh and bone, unable to move or make a sound.
Slowly his eyes flutter open and he stared up at the crystal blue sky, not a single bird sang nor could he feel the slightest breeze. “What the hell,” Eric asked no one and for the first time in an hour he heard no response. “Volthoom?”
“
“What the hell?” Eric laughed, doubting his sown sanity. “Gold is up; I can at least melt it down and get a little cash.”
Eric reaches down and the instant his flesh touches the metal, searing heat coursed through his body. Golden hued electricity climbed his right hand and up his arm, blazing across his chest and moving across his entire body. Pain riddled every inch of skin but he was unable to utter a sound. Eric collapsed, his body limp as he fell over into a heap a steaming flesh and bone, unable to move or make a sound.
Slowly his eyes flutter open and he stared up at the crystal blue sky, not a single bird sang nor could he feel the slightest breeze. “What the hell,” Eric asked no one and for the first time in an hour he heard no response. “Volthoom?”
“
Yes, Eric. I am here.”
“Wait, you have a name? How do I know your name?”
Eric brought a gloved hand to his temple and he took a moment to rummage through the thoughts in his head. “Who are the Guardians? Why on Earth would someone call themselves a ‘lantern’? What's a Sinestro?”
“
“Wait, you have a name? How do I know your name?”
Eric brought a gloved hand to his temple and he took a moment to rummage through the thoughts in his head. “Who are the Guardians? Why on Earth would someone call themselves a ‘lantern’? What's a Sinestro?”
“
Slow down,” Volthoom's monotone voice returned to echo inside Eric's mind. “
There is much to learn, but you should not trouble yourself with all of it, especially those interlopers. We have much more pressing concerns at the present.”
Eric stood and ultimately understood the pressing concerns the voice in his mind spoke about. His body ached all over, matching the feeling inside his head. His eyes and hands search down the front of his body and he took in a sight of yellow and black that seemingly was active fighting against his pudgy exterior. The curiosity starts to bring more pain to his brain but then it is the armband that pieces everything together, that symbol he's seen on the news dozens of times in the past year: Power Ring's brand icon. Despite his arching head, his brain kept thinking and returned to what Volthoom previously said. “You mean the Syndicate is looking for this?” He said with his eyes fixated on the jeweled golden band on his right hand.
“
Eric stood and ultimately understood the pressing concerns the voice in his mind spoke about. His body ached all over, matching the feeling inside his head. His eyes and hands search down the front of his body and he took in a sight of yellow and black that seemingly was active fighting against his pudgy exterior. The curiosity starts to bring more pain to his brain but then it is the armband that pieces everything together, that symbol he's seen on the news dozens of times in the past year: Power Ring's brand icon. Despite his arching head, his brain kept thinking and returned to what Volthoom previously said. “You mean the Syndicate is looking for this?” He said with his eyes fixated on the jeweled golden band on his right hand.
“
No, Eric, they do not want the ring, they want our power. The previous wearers have all been short-sighted by wealth, material things, and they have all been beaten short of their goals. What is it that you want?”
Eric's eyes flashed a brilliant yellow, if only for an instant. “I'm Power Ring?” The question rattled through his mind and turned his stomach much like an excited child with a new toy. He could not help but smile and clench his fist taught enough to feel the golden band on his finger. The pain subsided slightly, and he spoke out loud. “I'll tell you what I want, Volthoom. First, I want the truth.”
“
Eric's eyes flashed a brilliant yellow, if only for an instant. “I'm Power Ring?” The question rattled through his mind and turned his stomach much like an excited child with a new toy. He could not help but smile and clench his fist taught enough to feel the golden band on his finger. The pain subsided slightly, and he spoke out loud. “I'll tell you what I want, Volthoom. First, I want the truth.”
“
And you shall have it.”
The ring sparked, sputtering to life as would a brand new engine using its first ounce of oil. Light washed over him but not like any he'd ever seen before. It covered his form, flowing all around him in a perpetual movement but an almost a solid membrane that envelopes his entire body. “
The ring sparked, sputtering to life as would a brand new engine using its first ounce of oil. Light washed over him but not like any he'd ever seen before. It covered his form, flowing all around him in a perpetual movement but an almost a solid membrane that envelopes his entire body. “
There is quite a lot to learn Eric, forgive me for taking control.” Volthoom said in that monotone voice and Eric body froze to the commands in his brain.
“I can't move!”
“
“I can't move!”
“
Relax, Eric, in time you will do all of this on your own.” Eric heard and then watched his fingers move without command. His body quickly lifted into the air and Eric took off like a rocket. He felt the inertia rip against his body and gravity fought a losing battle to keep his feet on the ground. A beam of yellow streaked across the suburban sky and the tiny ants below him scatter from the sight they knew all too well from every news station on the planet. “
They scream in your presence, how does it feel?”
Eric's grin is cheek-to-cheek, “You know the answer, don't gloat.” The flight takes mere seconds before he lands at the base of his driveway, the costume colors disappear and he stands at the house looking, but not feeling, the same as he left it. He walked up the drive and the dog barked himself hoarse, knowing full well the danger that approaches.
“Shut up, Bandit,” he muttered under his breath and the dog has no choice but to obey. Eric did not stop as he walked through the door and the woman he married was waiting.
“Where the hell have you been!”
He rolled his eyes and walks by her without a word. She continues her rant despite his closed interest of what she might say, and Eric continues to walk through the house until he reaches the girls' bedroom. “Girls, come with daddy to the living room.”
The three year old shouts the same obscenities she's hear her mother shout a thousand times, crying at the unfairness of the interrupted television program. “Julie, ladies shouldn't talk like that.”
On his finger the ring glows and the little girl quiets at that instant, her eyes glossed over and with a voice that almost sounded like a robotic drone she apologizes and does as she's told. Evie's mouth stops but her eyes opened wide. “What the hell is that?”
Eric's mouth twists into a wide grin, “Nothing to concern yourself with, just go to the living room.” Evie objects with her mouth but the ring sees to it that her body obeys the calls of her husband. The three girls march to the living room like Power Ring's personal toy soldiers, and though Evie screams the entire way he chose to allow her the privilege to speak for a few moments more.
The three women stand side by side, in ascending height order and remain still until they are told otherwise. “Evie,” the new Power Ring spoke aloud, “first things first, the kitchen is a mess, see to that, will you?”
“Fuck you!”
The obscenity she burst out was nothing new, and with a wave of his hand Eric silenced the woman. “I didn't say speak, just clean the god damned dishes!” Then adding some effect for his own amusement, he commanded the woman to bow to him each time she passed. Eric collapsed in his chair and looked over at the girls. “Ladies, go play in your room quietly for daddy. Mommy has chores to do.” He did not bother to halt the smile growing on his face. “Mommy will come get you when dinner is ready.”
Eric sits back and flips through the channels, enjoying the next hour of keeping his wife busy, even allowing her a few moments to complain. Just to hear the hatred in her voice is enough entertainment to keep him occupied for hours. She sets down a table setting of his a nine ounce steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare with a baked potato hinted with chives, bacon bits and the slightest taste of butter. And to wash it down, a twelve ounce glass of sweet iced tea, specifically brewed for him.
Evie walks just to the left of the chair Eric sits, quietly apologizing for the interruption. “Dinner is served. Shall I get the children?”
“Do that, and make sure they're washed up.”
“Yes sir,” the words left her mouth but every expression on her face left behind a beautiful flavor of revulsion as she tried to fight every minute. Eric calmly walked to the table, sitting at the head and waited for his wife to return. The girls were in tow, walking without fuss and washed up for dinner. Evie stopped and rushed to her husband's side, unfolding the napkin to place into his lap and rearranging the silverware to perfection once again. “Please, sit down, Evie. Let's have a nice meal as a family.”
He savored it. After nearly four long years he was finally getting his wish: a family that respected him, or at least the appearance of respect. Eric knew it was all hallow but it did not stop him from enjoying the moment of quiet happiness. Biting into the steak he complimented his wife on the excellent choice of spices and diligence to perfection, and she was not able to utter a word of thanks or damnation.
For once she sat there, eating in silence, allowing him to enjoy his meal.
The girls went back to their room to play straight after dinner as they were too young for chores; after all, that's what they had a stay-at-home mother for, to care for them and attend to their needs, to help them grow into responsible children and, someday, adults. Eric returned to his chair and waited for his wife to return from cleaning the dishes. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked from the kitchen, before she returned to the laundry.
“Actually, yes.” Eric's gut growled as a sort of sickness took over. Not altogether comfortable with what he would get out of this next show but, all the same, he wiped away the control of his wife's faculties and let her out of her prison for a short time. “See how simple that was? A nice dinner. Just you, me and the girls. No fuss, no mess and all it took was this stupid little ring.”
“You sicken me!”
Eric's smile was wiped clean from his face. “Yeah, I suppose it's that time of the night, but instead of insulting me and debasing me, for once, you're going to do as I say. And I know it's not genuine, because that's the sort of woman you aren't. I want the truth.”
“What the hell are you babbling about.”
Evie's tone was just as poisonous as her words and now it was Eric's turn and the he let the ring glow a second longer. “Let's not kid ourselves about the bullshit idea of love and honor. I came in you, knocked you up and now I'm stuck with you. That's all we ever were.
She stayed quiet and allowed Eric to finish his thoughts. “This thing came down to me and I'm not really sure what to make of it yet, but I will say it's been a lot of fun so far.” nd then the seriousness returned to his face. “So tell me the truth,” he spoke and the ring glowed, “who do you fuck when I'm not around.”
Her face turned whiter than her normal pale, tears welling in her eyes as she fought the urge to speak. The ring on his finger glowed again. “Frank, Chester, Chelsea and William.” Eric made sure she forced out every lie she held in her blackened soul for the years of torture she had brought to him. She spewed out all the names of the different people she had her nighttime trysts with over their four year marriage, and to Eric the list went on for too long.
“Enough is enough, I get the picture.” He said and still not without a sound of pain in his voice. “Evie, grab me another beer and while you're in the kitchen, grab yourself a serrated knife from the sink.”
Tears flowed like a river down her face, “Please don't do this.” She cried despite the inability to help herself. “Not in front of the girls.”
He shook his head but she still set the beer on the table in front of him and returned to her place just ten paces in front of him. “Show me your left forearm.” She did as her husband asked. “Start at the crook of your elbow and carve a notch in your arm for every man you've fucked behind my back.”
Blood seeped from the openings in her arms. She cried but did not make too much noise about it as the crimson fluid of her life spilled onto the cheap rug her mother had given them. “Right arm please.”
“No, Eric, please, I'm begging you.”
“Should've thought about that before. Now, this is just for record keeping sakes, you know. On this arm, carve a notch for every woman you've fucked behind my back, even though you knew how much I wanted to watch.” She cried deep as she dug the knife and drew three lines into the meat of her forearm. Her body still responding to his every command, yet her eyes and tears flowed as her own.
Her hands dropped to her side, the knife still clutched in her left hand, blood running like a slow river down both arms, she stood there like a toy waiting to be wound up to play. “For years I let you tear me apart, spit on me and stomp on every dream and hope I had for not only me but us. I've suspected this for a long time but I have to know. Who is Julie's father?”
Bleeding, Evie stood in silence and he brought up his hand. “If you think about what this is doing to your body right now, imagine what I else I can make it do. Answer the question, whore!”
The tears hit her voice. “William.” She spoke in a broken voice. “William Fitzpatrick.”
“Didn't he do your homework in high school?”
“Yes.”
“Huh, thought that kid was gay; guess you learn something new every day.” The emotion in his voice was all but gone at the confirmation of her suspected betrayal. “So our marriage has not only been torture but a waste of goddamned time? Four years of my life I'll never get back! God damn it, Evie!” His screams echoed throughout the house and still the girls would never hear past the wall of yellow light he’d constructed over their door. “You could sit here all day, make me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet and go around fucking every neighbor on a nightly basis? What am I, babysitter on retainer, or just some joke that you find enjoyable to torture?”
She tried to fight it. “You're a joke, Eric. You were always nothing, but now, you're different.”
“Yeah, now I have this!” He flashed the ring at her and his eyes glowed just as yellow as the jewel inside it. “You know what you're going to do for me?”
“No?”
“You're going on a little field trip for me.” Eric's smile was all gone now, the rage on his face was the clearest feature of anything for Evie to take in. Her body trembling, the blood starting to clot down her forearms, but Eric kept his silence and let his thoughts invade her mind, as though the words sickened him. Before she could react to what he wanted her to do, her body was in motion. She tried to scream in protest but her voice was gone yet again. She simply grasped the knife in her strong hand, unlocked the front door and stepped outside. Walking the thirty feet to the neighbors front walkway, she knocked on Frank Stanten's door.
Jillian, his wife answered the door and was taken aback by the sight of her. The woman screamed but to halt the noise Evie jabbed the serrated blade into the woman's throat, twisting the handle and pulling out several ounces of flesh. “Your husband and I, Jillian, we meet regularly for sex and my husband says I need to put you out of your misery.”
Frank ran out of the room, pistol in hand and screamed at the sight of his wife's dying corpse. “Evie, what the fuck!” The woman was crying as she watched the wife of her lover die at her feet, bleeding from the massive wound in her neck.
“Frank? Frank I...” She wasted no other time, lunging forward and thrusting the knife into his chest and piercing his heart. The death throes of his last breaths were not lost on wasted time, as he was able to grip his finger tight and pull the trigger of the revolver he held in his hand. The explosion of gunpowder and blood spatter all across the house and Frank's teenaged son screams the moment he runs into the room. Her eyes scan the room, looking at the family she destroyed and crying for the daughters she's left behind.
Evie gasps for air. “Go to your room, son,” she hears from behind him as a glossed over look washes over Frank Junior's face and he does as Eric commands. He picks up his wife and sets her limp body on the chair, probably the last place the adulterers last fornicated. “You're pregnant, by the way,” he said as his final goodbye to the woman he loathed. “Do yourself a favor, slit your throat and be done with it.”
Eric turned his back as there was some things he didn't want to watch. He walked out onto the porch and his clothes returned to the yellow and black that everyone on his street would come to fear and faced the two young girls that asked for nothing in this life and were rewarded with nothing but a common hell. “Come on girls, it's time to go home to your real daddy.” And like the flash of yellow that would soon fade away from sight, Eric Milton too faded away, leaving only his new identity, Power Ring, to fill the void of a previously wasted life.
The End...
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Eric's grin is cheek-to-cheek, “You know the answer, don't gloat.” The flight takes mere seconds before he lands at the base of his driveway, the costume colors disappear and he stands at the house looking, but not feeling, the same as he left it. He walked up the drive and the dog barked himself hoarse, knowing full well the danger that approaches.
“Shut up, Bandit,” he muttered under his breath and the dog has no choice but to obey. Eric did not stop as he walked through the door and the woman he married was waiting.
“Where the hell have you been!”
He rolled his eyes and walks by her without a word. She continues her rant despite his closed interest of what she might say, and Eric continues to walk through the house until he reaches the girls' bedroom. “Girls, come with daddy to the living room.”
The three year old shouts the same obscenities she's hear her mother shout a thousand times, crying at the unfairness of the interrupted television program. “Julie, ladies shouldn't talk like that.”
On his finger the ring glows and the little girl quiets at that instant, her eyes glossed over and with a voice that almost sounded like a robotic drone she apologizes and does as she's told. Evie's mouth stops but her eyes opened wide. “What the hell is that?”
Eric's mouth twists into a wide grin, “Nothing to concern yourself with, just go to the living room.” Evie objects with her mouth but the ring sees to it that her body obeys the calls of her husband. The three girls march to the living room like Power Ring's personal toy soldiers, and though Evie screams the entire way he chose to allow her the privilege to speak for a few moments more.
The three women stand side by side, in ascending height order and remain still until they are told otherwise. “Evie,” the new Power Ring spoke aloud, “first things first, the kitchen is a mess, see to that, will you?”
“Fuck you!”
The obscenity she burst out was nothing new, and with a wave of his hand Eric silenced the woman. “I didn't say speak, just clean the god damned dishes!” Then adding some effect for his own amusement, he commanded the woman to bow to him each time she passed. Eric collapsed in his chair and looked over at the girls. “Ladies, go play in your room quietly for daddy. Mommy has chores to do.” He did not bother to halt the smile growing on his face. “Mommy will come get you when dinner is ready.”
Eric sits back and flips through the channels, enjoying the next hour of keeping his wife busy, even allowing her a few moments to complain. Just to hear the hatred in her voice is enough entertainment to keep him occupied for hours. She sets down a table setting of his a nine ounce steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare with a baked potato hinted with chives, bacon bits and the slightest taste of butter. And to wash it down, a twelve ounce glass of sweet iced tea, specifically brewed for him.
Evie walks just to the left of the chair Eric sits, quietly apologizing for the interruption. “Dinner is served. Shall I get the children?”
“Do that, and make sure they're washed up.”
“Yes sir,” the words left her mouth but every expression on her face left behind a beautiful flavor of revulsion as she tried to fight every minute. Eric calmly walked to the table, sitting at the head and waited for his wife to return. The girls were in tow, walking without fuss and washed up for dinner. Evie stopped and rushed to her husband's side, unfolding the napkin to place into his lap and rearranging the silverware to perfection once again. “Please, sit down, Evie. Let's have a nice meal as a family.”
He savored it. After nearly four long years he was finally getting his wish: a family that respected him, or at least the appearance of respect. Eric knew it was all hallow but it did not stop him from enjoying the moment of quiet happiness. Biting into the steak he complimented his wife on the excellent choice of spices and diligence to perfection, and she was not able to utter a word of thanks or damnation.
For once she sat there, eating in silence, allowing him to enjoy his meal.
The girls went back to their room to play straight after dinner as they were too young for chores; after all, that's what they had a stay-at-home mother for, to care for them and attend to their needs, to help them grow into responsible children and, someday, adults. Eric returned to his chair and waited for his wife to return from cleaning the dishes. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked from the kitchen, before she returned to the laundry.
“Actually, yes.” Eric's gut growled as a sort of sickness took over. Not altogether comfortable with what he would get out of this next show but, all the same, he wiped away the control of his wife's faculties and let her out of her prison for a short time. “See how simple that was? A nice dinner. Just you, me and the girls. No fuss, no mess and all it took was this stupid little ring.”
“You sicken me!”
Eric's smile was wiped clean from his face. “Yeah, I suppose it's that time of the night, but instead of insulting me and debasing me, for once, you're going to do as I say. And I know it's not genuine, because that's the sort of woman you aren't. I want the truth.”
“What the hell are you babbling about.”
Evie's tone was just as poisonous as her words and now it was Eric's turn and the he let the ring glow a second longer. “Let's not kid ourselves about the bullshit idea of love and honor. I came in you, knocked you up and now I'm stuck with you. That's all we ever were.
She stayed quiet and allowed Eric to finish his thoughts. “This thing came down to me and I'm not really sure what to make of it yet, but I will say it's been a lot of fun so far.” nd then the seriousness returned to his face. “So tell me the truth,” he spoke and the ring glowed, “who do you fuck when I'm not around.”
Her face turned whiter than her normal pale, tears welling in her eyes as she fought the urge to speak. The ring on his finger glowed again. “Frank, Chester, Chelsea and William.” Eric made sure she forced out every lie she held in her blackened soul for the years of torture she had brought to him. She spewed out all the names of the different people she had her nighttime trysts with over their four year marriage, and to Eric the list went on for too long.
“Enough is enough, I get the picture.” He said and still not without a sound of pain in his voice. “Evie, grab me another beer and while you're in the kitchen, grab yourself a serrated knife from the sink.”
Tears flowed like a river down her face, “Please don't do this.” She cried despite the inability to help herself. “Not in front of the girls.”
He shook his head but she still set the beer on the table in front of him and returned to her place just ten paces in front of him. “Show me your left forearm.” She did as her husband asked. “Start at the crook of your elbow and carve a notch in your arm for every man you've fucked behind my back.”
Blood seeped from the openings in her arms. She cried but did not make too much noise about it as the crimson fluid of her life spilled onto the cheap rug her mother had given them. “Right arm please.”
“No, Eric, please, I'm begging you.”
“Should've thought about that before. Now, this is just for record keeping sakes, you know. On this arm, carve a notch for every woman you've fucked behind my back, even though you knew how much I wanted to watch.” She cried deep as she dug the knife and drew three lines into the meat of her forearm. Her body still responding to his every command, yet her eyes and tears flowed as her own.
Her hands dropped to her side, the knife still clutched in her left hand, blood running like a slow river down both arms, she stood there like a toy waiting to be wound up to play. “For years I let you tear me apart, spit on me and stomp on every dream and hope I had for not only me but us. I've suspected this for a long time but I have to know. Who is Julie's father?”
Bleeding, Evie stood in silence and he brought up his hand. “If you think about what this is doing to your body right now, imagine what I else I can make it do. Answer the question, whore!”
The tears hit her voice. “William.” She spoke in a broken voice. “William Fitzpatrick.”
“Didn't he do your homework in high school?”
“Yes.”
“Huh, thought that kid was gay; guess you learn something new every day.” The emotion in his voice was all but gone at the confirmation of her suspected betrayal. “So our marriage has not only been torture but a waste of goddamned time? Four years of my life I'll never get back! God damn it, Evie!” His screams echoed throughout the house and still the girls would never hear past the wall of yellow light he’d constructed over their door. “You could sit here all day, make me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet and go around fucking every neighbor on a nightly basis? What am I, babysitter on retainer, or just some joke that you find enjoyable to torture?”
She tried to fight it. “You're a joke, Eric. You were always nothing, but now, you're different.”
“Yeah, now I have this!” He flashed the ring at her and his eyes glowed just as yellow as the jewel inside it. “You know what you're going to do for me?”
“No?”
“You're going on a little field trip for me.” Eric's smile was all gone now, the rage on his face was the clearest feature of anything for Evie to take in. Her body trembling, the blood starting to clot down her forearms, but Eric kept his silence and let his thoughts invade her mind, as though the words sickened him. Before she could react to what he wanted her to do, her body was in motion. She tried to scream in protest but her voice was gone yet again. She simply grasped the knife in her strong hand, unlocked the front door and stepped outside. Walking the thirty feet to the neighbors front walkway, she knocked on Frank Stanten's door.
Jillian, his wife answered the door and was taken aback by the sight of her. The woman screamed but to halt the noise Evie jabbed the serrated blade into the woman's throat, twisting the handle and pulling out several ounces of flesh. “Your husband and I, Jillian, we meet regularly for sex and my husband says I need to put you out of your misery.”
Frank ran out of the room, pistol in hand and screamed at the sight of his wife's dying corpse. “Evie, what the fuck!” The woman was crying as she watched the wife of her lover die at her feet, bleeding from the massive wound in her neck.
“Frank? Frank I...” She wasted no other time, lunging forward and thrusting the knife into his chest and piercing his heart. The death throes of his last breaths were not lost on wasted time, as he was able to grip his finger tight and pull the trigger of the revolver he held in his hand. The explosion of gunpowder and blood spatter all across the house and Frank's teenaged son screams the moment he runs into the room. Her eyes scan the room, looking at the family she destroyed and crying for the daughters she's left behind.
Evie gasps for air. “Go to your room, son,” she hears from behind him as a glossed over look washes over Frank Junior's face and he does as Eric commands. He picks up his wife and sets her limp body on the chair, probably the last place the adulterers last fornicated. “You're pregnant, by the way,” he said as his final goodbye to the woman he loathed. “Do yourself a favor, slit your throat and be done with it.”
Eric turned his back as there was some things he didn't want to watch. He walked out onto the porch and his clothes returned to the yellow and black that everyone on his street would come to fear and faced the two young girls that asked for nothing in this life and were rewarded with nothing but a common hell. “Come on girls, it's time to go home to your real daddy.” And like the flash of yellow that would soon fade away from sight, Eric Milton too faded away, leaving only his new identity, Power Ring, to fill the void of a previously wasted life.
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The End...
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