Page 34 of Darkness

He downed another fortifying shot of tequila before clicking on a link for an article called A Brief History.

Legends of demons and other creatures like werewolves who preyed on humans are thought to be early examples of human clashes with travelers. The entities were summoned or otherwise came from another plane, Domus being the most documented realm and closest to Terra. Criminals entering a dangerous predator’s body wreaked havoc, especially if they fed from fear or killed one human after another in search of a suitable inhabitable body.

Like the… thing… tried to do to Morrisey. Even now, the creature lurked somewhere in Atlanta as a nurse who’d just become a threat to anyone around her.

Morrisey should stop wasting time and track her down.

Occisors, they were called.

Another entry read: Tenebris. Sounded familiar, but what did it mean?

He continued reading.

Tenebris were rare, born into any social class, the most powerful of all Domusian beings. Once, Tenebris joined with its counterpart, Lux. Darkness and light. The first pair, Tenebris and Lux, are credited with the creation of Domus. Then came more. Provided that they were paired, all was well. Then Tenebris came into the world without a counterpart. Through their unchecked darkness, they destroyed cities, their power too great to wield alone. The council decided they were too dangerous to live. Tenebris were banished upon first manifesting their terrible powers.

Hadn’t someone called Morrisey the same? Darkness. No use denying the truth, though.

Maybe you needed darkness to fight darkness.

Morrisey abandoned his laptop and stumbled into the kitchen, stepping over a filled trash bag and a few empty pizza boxes. He found a takeout container in the fridge, opened the flaps, and sniffed. Didn’t smell bad. But when had he last ordered Chinese?

He removed the metal handles from the container and popped the carton into the microwave, resting his palms on the counter to wait. The microwave hummed. Three minutes.

The sun sank lower in the sky. He should have reported back to Gaskins but needed time to wrap his head around all he’d been told. Fucking unbelievable.

Morrisey trudged a few feet to gaze outside at the traffic below. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if the people passing by were human or not. If someone didn’t act soon, the city could be overrun. Then the country. Then the world. The walls between the planes were thinner here than in some other parts of the world. Localized, for now. If only they stayed local.

Austen’s smiling face invaded Morrisey’s thoughts. That smile. His earnestness reminded Morrisey of himself a time long ago. Oh, who was he kidding? He’d always been a miserable sonofabitch, except for his time with Craig.

Craig.

The microwave dinged. Morrisey continued gazing out the window, imagining turning to find his lover removing the carton from the microwave.

Dinner’s ready, Craig would say with a smile. No, not right. More than likely, he’d say, Do you have any idea what the chemical additives in this shit will do to your body?

Morrisey lifted the corners of his mouth. Craig had been the health-conscious one who should have lived a long and healthy life. The beginnings of a smile fell.

Until the last year, when his personality suddenly changed. Craig had blamed Morrisey’s job…

Morrisey should have quit the job. Maybe then Craig would still be alive, still be happy.

Morrisey turned away from the window.

He’d captured Craig’s smile in so many ways, with acrylics on canvas, the occasional watercolor, and even charcoal sketches while Craig slept, still smiling.

He hadn’t smiled much in their last year together.

All images but one were jumbled in a closet, along with early sketches of Morrisey’s parents and the family dog who’d died shortly before his parents had.

Parts of a past life, when Morrisey thought he might succeed in the world and had reasons to.

He’d been no good to anyone for so long. How could he change now? All his friends had given up on him. Parents were gone. He’d never known his biological family. Gaskins put up with him, mostly because he’d worked well with Will.

Now, Will joined the others who’d left.

What you need is a purpose, Morrisey heard Craig whisper.

"Other than to locate the scumbag who killed you and beat him to death with my bare hands?" Morrisey replied out loud. A promise he’d once made, still unfulfilled.

---