The Darkling (Original Short Story)

The Darkling

The morning light struck a young man’s blue eyes, awakening him as his pupils dilated to adjust to the brightness in the room. It was more than obvious that this was some of the only sunlight that ever touched his skin. His small, athletic frame was pale, which was contrasted by his black hair. He let out a moan as his chiseled face looked around, scanning the room. It was a mess; the bed that he laid on had its sheets practically skewed about, as if he twisted the whole night through. A set of “Pepsi” cans were on top of a dresser in the corner, several of them knocked over, with one teetering over the dresser’s edge.

Clothes and bandages littered the floor. There was one set of clothes that stood out in particular. On the floor, there was a black trench coat that was stretched out along the floor, spread eagle like a dead man. A black long sleeve shirt was folded messily on the ground next to it, a black fedora resting by the collar and gloves placed by the elbows. The shirt being there explained why he had nothing on his torso. A long piece of black cloth was lazily spread along the outfit. He moaned again as his body twisted to the other side, his eyes wanting to look at the wall to avoid the bright sunlight. He had trouble though; a sharp pain shot through his abdomen and arms as he turned.

What happened last night?

It was odd. How could he not remember what happened? Yesterday should have been a typical night. Did something happen to him? He assumed it was simply too early in the morning. He needed caffeine or food… something to get his mind working. A good meal would probably distract him from the pain as well (if simply through some minute level). He figured with that in mind, it was time to get up. As he twisted to the side however, he noticed a pair of legs in blue jeans cross his sight.

His eyes narrowed as his head craned upwards to see a young blonde woman with green eyes staring down at him. Black stains circled her eyes and ran down along her cheeks. Her thin lips were curled up in a disturbed smile, trying not to frown for whatever reason. The stains… he couldn’t tell what they were. She looked tired… but at the same time, the thin strips of black that ran down cheeks told him she was crying. When the two made eye contact, her smile somehow became brighter.

“Christian… how are you feeling?” the girl asked.

***

Darkling’s Journal Entry #166

The day was like any other… busy, hollow, and pointless. I woke up with a welt on my stomach that has swollen to the size of a baseball. The crook’s punch was stronger than I thought. It doesn’t matter. It was out of plain sight. As long as I wore a dark shirt, no one would notice. After tending to that, I ate what I always ate for breakfast: eggs, oatmeal, a protein bar, orange juice, and milk. I get the essentials I need to last during the day and survive the night. I showered and shaved, cutting my cheek. It stung because of the facial cleanser, but I ignored it. I used some Neosporin to prevent scarring. However, I’ve been tempted to let a scar grow. The right kind would make me more intimidating. Scars always seem to do that. Then again, my face is covered at night, so what’s the point?

I went to work after that. My coworker… my friend, Daniel, he asked about the cut. I told him it was nothing. I did what I always did in the supermarket for the past year: stock, clean, restock, and work the register. When we could, Daniel and I continued to argue about the Darkling. He called him… he called me a vigilante, who’s taking care of business that isn’t his own. I had to use the Marvel defense… using people like Punisher to make a point. It didn’t work out well. After that, the boss walked in, told me to stop goofing off, and get back to work. I was caught up in the moment. Daniel worked during the whole talk. I admire his discipline.

I had to hurry my work. I had to protect the nightlife. When I was done, I returned home, and grabbed my outfit. My black fedora, cloth mask, mesh shirt, trench coat, jeans, gloves, boots, and knives. Every time I blend in with the darkness… I feel right. I feel invincible, invisible, and intimidating. Thugs begin to fear me while I instill justice quickly and effectively. They pay for their injustices. I am their punisher, a hero who brings about the people’s retribution.

One person I saw tonight… she would be the one that brought something new into my life. A woman… a beautiful one… I found her being chased down the soaking wet alleyways being drenched in rain The shadows covered nearly everything in between the cold brick walls. The sounds, however, weren’t as hidden. They rebounded against the walls to escape empty spaces between rooftops. She screamed “Help!” as some man in rags chased her down the alleyways. I could hear his “whoops” and her screams as I followed them from above. She had a chance to get away, but the man knocked her down. He got on top of her, lusting for her. I wouldn’t let him.

I jumped down, distracting him. He shouted at me as if he was unaware of who I was. It was irritating that I didn’t instill the fear in him that I should of. I should have deterred him the moment I showed up. Regardless, he charged at me, forgetting all about the girl. A broken bottle was in his hand, having grabbed it from the ground. Repeatedly he tried to stab me, slash me, anything that he could do. He was pathetic. Every time he tried to strike me, he would miss. I delivered a strike with every opening I could. I was soon distracted though. I thought the man was down and I went to check on the girl. She was dazed. I asked her if she was alright, but she wouldn’t respond. The man used this to his advantage, grabbing me from behind, kneeing me repeatedly. I reached for my blade and stabbed him anywhere I could. I heard a scream. Without seeing where I stabbed him, I wanted to put him down for good. I grabbed him by the hair and slammed him against the wall.

He was dazed. The girl was no longer in such a confused state, and she could see me finally… her savior. I told her to go. She was reluctant, but at the same time, I could see fear in her eyes. It was a strange mix. I didn’t understand what could cause such fear. Perhaps she was still in shock from the attack before. However, she soon finally followed my advice and ran off. As for the man, I stared at him on the ground. Anger began to brew in me, staring at such a sick thug. No… he was a rapist, a criminal, a scum of the earth. I began to kick him repeatedly, the anger brewing inside of me with each kick. Every blow was harder and faster. For some reason, I saw myself briefly underneath my boot. Should I have given him mercy? No, it made me want to bludgeon him even more… the memories of what I went through at the hands and boots of others. I didn’t want others to suffer like I did. I wanted to deliver the justice to those who tried to be like those thugs.

He was brutalized… but he wasn’t punished. I drew a knife from underneath the coat. I asked him “What did it feel like for a woman to be violated?” He didn’t answer, but I compared it to a knife in the genitals. He begged for mercy. His whimpering… it made me even more angry. He didn’t deserve to ask for it. I took the knife, slammed it down towards him… and stopped right in between his legs. I wanted to castrate him, but I figured I’d leave that for the next time he tried anything. With that, I left him, partly because I needed to check his victim, and partly because sirens were approaching. The cops don’t like me… they say I’m a menace who doesn’t operate the way “law” should.

The girl was fine. She was still in shock, but I assured her everything would be okay. She was afraid to be alone, but I told her I’d watch her as long as I could. I ran to a rooftop, watched her from up top, and waited until the police came. The moment the flashing lights of red and blue hit my eyes, I was gone. The girl, however, wouldn’t disappear so easily.

***

“Monica… I thought you left,” he said weakly with surprise.

“I came back last night. I was picking up the last of my things. You came inside right in the middle of it. You looked hysterical.”
Christian gave her an odd look. He groaned quietly as he sat up slowly. The pain was really getting to him. He rubbed the sore spot on his chest and found a bandage on his chest. He was caught off guard. He looked up at Monica, now somewhat disoriented.

“What… did I…”

“You came running in here, breathing heavily,” she said. "You ran to the bathroom, shouting ‘Oh, God, oh God!’ I ran over to you, you vomited, and you passed out.”

Monica gave him a concerned look. She had never seen him unnerved like that. It was one of the strangest things that she had ever seen in her life. He had seen him jittery, he had seen him angry, and she had seen him in a demented state once… but she had never seen him scared and disturbed the way she saw him. If anything, it frightened her. She thought that Christian had been acting like an ass lately; he had been more solitary, foul mouthed, and found more importance in his “mission” then her. It angered her, but she couldn’t help but push that aside when she saw Christian so wound up. She could angry with him, but she still loved him. Right now, she could tell that he needed her, whether he’d admit it for once in his life or not.

She leaned forward towards him, a hand rubbing up against his face. Christian’s face went red, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes and grabbed her hand. He knew what he did… he felt wrong. He took her for granted. The fact that he even did the things that he did disgusted him. He didn’t know why it finally hit him now. The fact of the matter was that he couldn’t even look Monica in the face. He let out a grunt, trying to figure out what to say to her.

“Monica… I’m… I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright. We can talk about it later. Right now you need to rest.”

Christian opened his eyes and looked at Monica. She was smiling weakly. A small smile grew on his face as he nodded. He lowered his head as he grunted quietly, trying to get comfortable. He was definitely going to need some pain killers. He looked up at Monica with some discomfort.

“Hey, is there any ibuprofen or Advil?”

Monica showed some straining as she tried to remember, thinking back to last night. After several seconds she shook her head.

“No. When I went through the medicine cabinet last night, I didn’t find any.”

“Shit,” Christian swore under his breath.

“Don’t worry, I’ll grab some for you. I need to get some things anyway.”

“Thanks.”

Monica smiled weakly as he she stroked his hair briefly. She then walked out of the bedroom. He could hear the footsteps walking on the wood floor. Soon, a door opened and then closed just as quickly. Christian stared at the peeling ceiling, trying to think about what went on last night. Considering what had been going on lately, he found it somewhat surprising he didn’t really think about it. What was more surprising to him was the fact that Monica was still around. He sighed quietly. He wondered… how did all start to go so wrong with her? It started off so well.
He grunted quietly. His eyes were hurting. It took him a while to realize that he left his contacts in. He must have fallen unconscious before taking them out. He groaned silently as he put his fingers to the contacts and pulled them out. He stared at the lenses on his fingers. There was a blue ring around them. He grinned as he thought about how useful they were every time he went out. However, there was a moment where they did absolutely nothing. He thought back to when he first met Monica. A smile grew on his face.

***

Darkling Journal Entry #167
I woke up feeling sore again. There was a bruise around my neck from when the rapist grabbed my throat with his arm. I wasn’t happy. I’d have to come up with something to cover it up. If I see him again, he’s not going to have a good night. Then again, I think he may have had enough happen. I punished him accordingly. If he pulls anything off again, I’ll add onto his next punishment. It’s only fair. I’m a man of justice… I’m not a vigilante, not like Daniel said.

I decided to add some Advil to my meal. I feel more sore than usual. I needed the pain to stay away to concentrate today. It seems that it wouldn’t have mattered though. My concentration was shattered at work. Daniel was talking to me about his brother, how he was falling into a bad situation.
“He’s bleeding out money,” he told me. “He got fired, he’s late on his rent, and I heard his girlfriend might be pregnant.”I told him “That sucks.” It was unfortunate. I never met his brother, though. It was a little hard for me to truly care about someone I didn’t know. I’ve only heard about him. I know nothing about him. I haven’t even seen a picture of him. Still, I felt sorry for Daniel and his brother’s predicament. I wasn’t a bastard. I let out a sigh as I got back to the newspaper, reading about The Darkling. He was on the front page. It said that “he” stopped a rapist and saved a woman named Monica Rhien, a college student of New York State. I smiled. That was the way the news should have reported it… telling the world I was making a difference.

Something funny happened right there. As I lowered the picture, I saw the woman’s picture in colorized form in front of me. My eyes widened in shock. The woman had a weak smile that suddenly disappeared. I didn’t have my eyes on from the night before, but I could tell that she recognized me. Daniel noticed this stare of shock and silence. “What is it?” he asked. I didn’t reply. I gave him the newspaper, not wanting to accidentally say the truth. Monica already found it out. I saw her mouth “You” in silence. I told Daniel I needed to take my break. “Sure. No problem. Why though?” I didn’t say. He looked me over and suddenly a grin grew on his face. He couldn’t hide it. He knew. I suddenly realized he always knew. How though? I hid so many of the wounds. Did he see something in the pictures? Was it the way I acted? It didn’t matter. The fact he didn’t tell anyone amazed me. He really is a good friend.

He motioned for me to get out and speak to Monica. We went outside and talked. Monica thanked me for saving her. I said it was my duty and my desire to help her. She smiled and called me sweet. I gave her a smile and told her again that it was all part of my desire to help. She told me she wanted to see me again. I told her I’d be here again tomorrow. I hope she comes.

***

Christian chuckled quietly as he looked to the side, finding the container of saline on his nightstand. He turned over slightly, feeling pain in his side as he did so. He grabbed the bottle and opened it up, putting the contacts inside. He sealed the container and placed back on the nightstand. As he did, he noticed paint peeling from the walls as well. The walls were painted white, but because of the peeling, black paint was being exposed from underneath. He grunted quietly as he felt some irritation.

He swung his legs off the bed with difficulty. He slowly pushed himself onto his feet, moaning loudly as he did so. He walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. A bright light was shining in through a window down the hall. His eyes adjusted to the brightness with ease though, due to having adjusted to the light in his bed room. As he went into the living room, he rubbed his back. As he did, he felt another bandage a couple inches higher and another inch to the right. He grunted quietly as he stopped. He peeled the tape back and felt the wound. It was small and circular. His eyes narrowed as he suddenly had a thought. He moved his hand towards the tape on his chest and peeled off the bandage. He looked at the wound (to the best of his abilities) and felt it with his fingers. He grunted quietly in some pain. It felt about the same size. This made something click in his head.

I was shot…

He suddenly winced. He didn’t feel so comfortable anymore. He soon headed towards the living room in a hurried pace. He looked around the room. The room was simple but well furnished. It had a hardwood floor that reflected the light coming in from a window in the center of the north wall. The walls that surrounded him were a bright white, not unlike the walls in the rest of the building. On the west wall, near the corner, there was a sturdy door. At the center of the east wall, next to the hallway, was a rather large TV. In each corner of the room were speakers. Every day, Christian would listen to the news, staring intently at local events going on.

It seemed to have been obviously ruined some. There was a lamp that was missing. The shade was on a table in the corner next to a small leather couch. Did he break when he came in last night? He sighed loudly as he looked over towards the kitchen. That was clean. He looked over at the TV across from the couch. That had been untouched as well. He then looked at the speakers that surrounded the room. One speaker that hung near the wall was hanging lower than before. He noticed that the nail that kept it up was bent. He must have hit that as well upon entering.

He sighed quietly as he looked towards the door. He noticed something right away. The lock for the door had been broken. The wall where the deadbolt was had been broken through. He squinted in surprise. He really was disturbed by something. He tried to think back about what happened. He remembered… he was working. When he did… someone showed up. He remembered a threat. He remembered beforehand though… he was having a talk with Monica. Things were… quite heated. Monica said she was done with him the day before. She walked out on him and said she’d come back for her things. He sighed quietly. He thought about how things started to go bad a week ago and how it got worse.

***

Darkling’s Journal Entry #210

It’s been almost two months. Things have hit a standstill for me. I’m not sure what it is, but I’m feeling less content with things. At home, everything irritates me. The only moments I’m happy is when I’m out on streets, fighting these bastards who roam my city. It’s strange, though; I’m seeing myself more and more in these people. Whenever I do… I snap. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t truly dispersed justice, protecting those who suffered my fate. But then… why am I so bitter? The bitterness has really affected my home life, though. Monica and I are heading through a rough patch. The other day, we had another fight. The other night, she was basically ambushed by some thugs and I chased after them. To reference journal entry #209:

“I was patrolling the night. As I did though, I heard a familiar scream… one that I heard many days ago. It was Monica’s. I quickly hurried along the rooftops to aid her. My mind was frantic, worried for Monica and exhilarated from the fact that there was prey for the night. The night was clear, both of bad weather and obstructive clouds, casting a light from the moon directly onto me. My silhouette danced from roof to roof, gracefully landing and running in a smooth, uninterrupted motion.

In under a minute, I found her, three punks clad in blackened leather, two Caucasian and one Hispanic. One of the Caucasian’s had a red bandana a top his head with some orange blending in fairly well from underneath. He had Monica pinned against a wall while she struggled in futility to escape. He muttered something I couldn’t make out, the two men laughing behind him. I was finished watching and took action, jumping on the man who pinned her to the wall. His head slammed against the concrete and he was no sooner unconscious. The two men charged at me. The first one was easy to dispatch; I feinted to the side, grabbed him by his collar and back and slammed him face first into the wall. I heard some sort of a crunching sound, followed by a pained, muffled scream.

The second one took a knife and stuck it straight into my arm. The pain was great, but I ignored it. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I took the knife out and swung the butt of the handle into his stomach, sending him reeling over. No sooner did I grab him by the hair, spin around, and kneed him straight in the neck. He gagged out as he fell to the ground, grasping his throat. I stared at the body, suddenly feeling better. However, my pride got the better of me; the man whom I threw to the wall ran off when I wasn’t looking. I noticed him disappear into an alleyway.
I wanted to chase him down, but Monica distracted me. She grabbed me by the arm, crying hysterically, begging me not to go. I told her to go home because I needed to chase this last one down. She screamed no. She was upset, but I couldn’t let this guy get away. I told her again to go home and ran off.”

I found the man eventually. I beat him to a state of unconsciousness. I was angry that he dared do that to her… do that to me. Monica seemed ungrateful though. She was screaming at me, completely livid that I left her. She told me how she needed me and how I left her there. She seemed even angrier that I was letting this “hero thing get to my head.” It was funny that my escapades seemed so important. It’s not like it was affecting things between us. It never hurt her in the process. In fact, it saved her. Regardless, I told her “I can’t sacrifice myself for you.” She took it the wrong way of course. I only meant that I couldn’t save her all the time when I’m here punishing the crime in the city.

She grabs some clothes, tells me to “Fuck off from her life and die out there,” and slams the door on her way out. I didn’t care. I didn’t need her. I let her into my life and she was turning into a distraction. It was weird how she seemed to want me so badly a month ago. I remember we got back from a movie and she told me she had a surprise for me. She offered me her body for the night. I don’t remember the details… I just remember it felt really good. It was pretty empty to me other than that. It doesn’t matter. She did nothing else that was good for me. Good riddance to that whore.

***

Christian continued to think back through everything. Why was he so upset with her? She did nothing wrong. All she did was try to make him happy. He looked over at his arm, the wound finally having scabbed over. He frowned as he looked down on the ground, shame filling inside of him again. As he did though, he noticed a faint stain on the ground. He stared at it for several seconds before realizing it was a boot print… his. He looked at the print and slowly craned his head, following it to the bathroom. Through the open door, he saw a dent in the wall.

I ran right into it?

He soon walked over to the bathroom and looked at it. It was a good two inches deep. He must have run full force into it. He then looked over at the toilet; the cover was lifted up and the seat was stained green. Christian grunted quietly as he looked around. He noticed some hints of a greenish liquid on the ground near the base of the toilet. The last time he threw up was when he ate rotten food a year ago. Even then, it was only a couple times. What could have spooked him so badly that the floor and seat were actually stained? He tried to remember, but his mind drew a blank.

Aside from some fragments from the night before that popped up, he remembered nothing. What he did remember was being at work last night. While he was there… somebody pulled a weapon on him. He remembered a flash as well, but that was about it. For some reason though, it gave him a headache. He groaned quietly as he clenched his eyes shut and rubbed his head.

Why does it hurt when I think about it? Monica, where are you with the meds?

He decided now was a bad time to think about it. He needed to rest. He went back into his bedroom and towards the dresser. Pulling out the top shelf, he pulled out one of the few white shirts that he had inside, mixed in with various black and red ones. He put it on as he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He sighed quietly as he grabbed a remote on a small table that rested on the right side of the couch. He aimed it at the speaker’s hub and hit the power button. As soon as he did, the song “Human” from The Killers began to play. The techno like music was fast paced, yet oddly relaxing to him. He exhaled loudly as he leaned to his side and rested his head on the armrest. He closed his eyes and simply let the music play.

As he rested, he could hear voices. They were very familiar ones… including his own. He was in some sort of half-lucid state of consciousness, but it brought back memories of last night.

“Look, Christian, you’ll get through it,” Daniel’s voice said. “I don’t fucking care right now,” Christian’s voice said bitterly. “She can do things on her own.” “Don’t be an asshole about it,” Daniel said. “What are you implying?” Christian asked, now sounding offended. “Are you saying this is my fucking fault?!” “No! I’m just saying you-”

“Don’t move a muscle,” a somewhat deep but nervous voice said. “Raise your hands up and no one gets shot.” “You want to shoot me?” Christian asked. “Go ahead. Do it.”

Christian grunted quietly, twitching in his sleep. He could scene briefly, the man staring at him. It was becoming clearer.

“Don’t make me do it, man,” the man said. “You’re right, I am a man,” Christian taunted. “If you’re a man, you’ll pull the trigger.” “Don’t fuck with me right now!” The man said.

Another image flashed. He could hear a door opening, and the man looked to the side. The image went to black again, but the tension Christian was feeling was growing. He was starting to breathe more heavily as he began to twitch.

“Shoot the damn gun!”“Why are you here?!” the man said, sounding distracted. “GIVE ME THE FUCKING GUN YOU SUN OF A-!!!”

There was a loud boom. Christian shouted out as he suddenly shot back up. The phone was ringing. He looked over towards it, breathing heavily as his eyes briefly scanned the area to make sure he was in reality. His room was empty, and now, the song “He Was My Brother” by Simon and Garfunkel was playing over the radio. He looked back towards the phone. He slowed his breathing, shaking his head and shaking the thoughts out from his mind. He grabbed the phone and placed it by his ear.

“Hello?”

“Christian… it’s Daniel,” the voice said flatly.

“Oh. Hey. How’s it goin’?”

“Is Monica there?” his voice asked.

“No. She’s out getting me some Advil or something. Why?”

“…” There was only empty static. “Why did you do it?”

“What?” Christian asked confused. “Oh, Monica… look, I was an idiot. We’re… I’m gonna try and fix things up with her. I told her-“

“No. Not that. What you did last night. Why… why did you fucking do that?!” Daniel asked, anger growing in his voice.”

“Daniel, look, I can’t remember what happened last night. I don’t know why.”

“How can you not remember?!” he shouted, almost offended.

“Look, I said I don’t know why!” Christian retorted loudly with some nervousness.

“… You really don’t remember?” Daniel’s voice asked, now disturbing calm.

“No!”

“… Turn on the news. Take your pick of channels. It’s all the same right now.”

Christian suddenly froze. New fear suddenly grew inside of him. He put the phone down on the table and put the speaker phone on. Soon, he grabbed the remote and changed the sound and channel to the local news station. Before the video came on, he could already here the report.

“-Darkling is now a reported murderer!” A female voice said before the picture of a woman in her early 30’s came on the screen. “It seems that last night, a young man was found running from a robbery from a convenience store where two clerks Christian Kofax and Daniel D. Berg were held at gunpoint. The robber was apparently Daniel’s brother Nathan Berg.”

Christian’s eyes widened in shock. The robber was Daniel’s brother. That was when he suddenly remembered the image of the man looking away. He saw Daniel. That was what distracted him. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together, staring at the TV intently.

“Christian had reportedly tried to take the gun away, getting shot in the process. However, when the robber ran, Christian ran right after him. No one saw him after that. However, when Nathan arrived here at his home, he was soon after brutally gunned down by the Darkling, having taken a bullet to the head. The whole event was witness by Nathan’s girlfriend Rosario.”

Christian suddenly felt dread take over as he stared at the screen. He… killed Daniel’s brother? Did he block out the memory of last night? Soon, he was distracted by the appearance of a crying woman who appeared to be Hispanic/ Black. She had long wavy hair and brown eyes that were filled with tears.

“I saw Nathan coming in, he looked absolutely scared. He was saying “Why did I do that?” over and over again! T-then… he came out and started beating him. I shouted for him to stop, but he just ignored me, shouting something about “leaving him alone” and that he “tried to kill him.” H-he’d never do that. He was always to scared to get into fights. Then… the Darkling pulled out a gun. I told him to stop… and he looked at me with those cold, icy eyes. They… were so empty. They scared me. Then… h-he… heeee…”

She soon broke down and motioned for the camera to go away. Christian stared in fear at the TV, then looking down at his hands. He gasped out, trying to say something. He shook his head as a pain grew in his head.

No… I’m not a murderer. I’m not a murderer! He had a gun!

“He… he had a gun,” he finally said.

“He wasn’t going to use it. You should have seen that by the way he was shaking and standing there. He needed the money but there’s no way he was going to kill anyone.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried to tell you… but you ran off and killed him before I could.”

“He… was trying to rob us. I didn’t think-”

“Yeah. People rob someone all the time. It’s never right, but what you did… you went too far. You killed a man… my brother… who did it for survival.” The bitterness in his voice was rising. “What was going through your head? It was your fault the gun went off when you reached for it... your fault that you got shot by recklessly going to grab it like that. Now I’m curious, why are you so egotistical to make all these crimes about you? I know shit happened to you as a kid. It happened to me, too. But I moved on. Look what happened because you didn’t… you’re going on some personal rampage, blind that someone really loves you and you’re fucking up people on your terms. Don’t deny that. If that wasn’t true, my brother would still be alive. So tell me… who else do you have to hurt until your happy?”

Christian was sitting in the chair, shaking now. The words were echoing in his head, getting louder and louder. He couldn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry… but I need to call the cops.”

“Daniel, wait, don’t-”

“I have to,” he said remorsefully. “You’ve gone too far. I should have done this earlier, but I didn’t want to cause you were my friend. Now look where you are. I don’t know what you’ll do next. Maybe you’ll kill some innocent bystander just for looking at you the wrong way.”
Christian’s head sank as he stared at the floor. He tried to sort this all out in his head. What had he done? What had he done to forsake his mission of justice? How could he let himself sink this low? He rubbed his eyes with his hand. They were beginning to feel moist.

“You’re a good friend, Daniel,” he said, his voice cracking. “You do what’s right. Thank you.”

He pressed the power button to the phone, disconnecting the call. He slowly got up and walked towards the bathroom, thinking about last night. It was more vivid now… more vivid than he wanted. He sighed quietly as he went up to the sink. He let his head sink down as he turned on the hot water. He grabbed a cloth and soaked it up. Steam shortly after began to rise and fill the room. He took the cloth and wiped his face and eyes as tears of shame began to well up. The hot water felt good. He soon began to wipe down the back of his neck as he lifted his head up. Steam had completely blanketed the mirror as he tried to look at his reflection.

With his hand, he wiped down a part of the mirror. As he did, a pair of icy blue eyes stared back at him. His eyes widened as he gasped out and backed up against the wall. His eyes stared at the pair in the mirror. Those weren’t his eyes… those were the Darkling’s. He looked down to examine himself briefly. He looked back into the mirror. He moved forward and wiped it down more, revealing the darkling’s head with a fedora and cloth mask. Soon, Christian let out a loud scream as he began to claw at himself, wanting to rip off the outfit that stained his body. He muttered insane words under his breath as he tried to pull of the cloth mask, the coat, shirt, and everything that reminded him of what he was. He let out another scream as he futilely pulled at the clothes, spinning around and losing balance.

A sense of dizziness began to mount him as he tried to slow himself down. The entire room was spinning with the door suddenly having vanished. All that stayed still was the mirror, with the reflection staring at him with dark intent. Christian let out a scream as he shot forward and punched the mirror. The mirror cracked, but the reflection was still there. He threw another punch… and another… and another. He threw as many as he could, trying to break the mirror and to get rid of his image. He screamed with pain at each one as the glass broke, slicing his fingers and knuckles. Soon, he couldn’t take anymore, he fell to the ground, crying hysterically. He curled up into a ball, sniveling like a frightened child.

A door opened and he heard a frightened call. Footsteps ran down the hall getting closer to him. He soon felt a pair of arms wrap around him, a voice shouting his name in fear. He couldn’t make it out. He was too frightened to even open his eyes or listen in to the judging words of others. As he lied there, he remembered something… something that drove him over the edge. As he dropped the gun and walked off, he looked back towards Nathan. But as he expected to look over at the body with pride, he saw something that instilled fear inside of him. He stared in horror as he saw another body on the ground amidst the cold, black darkness. It was a body that stood out from any other that he could have seen… he saw his own.

“CHRISTIAN!!!”

Monica’s scream snapped him out of his daze. He was breathing heavily as he opened his eyes to find Monica crouched over him, scared out of her life. Christian looked around. He was still in the bathroom. However, he was no longer in the Darkling outfit; he was once again in his white shirt and black pants. He slowly sat up, shaking heavily, not knowing what was going on.

“What happened?!” Monica asked in a panicked voice.

“I… I…” Christian didn’t know what to say. “It all caved in.”

There was a knock on the door. Christian looked at it in some confusion. He looked over at Monica, who was helping him up. He didn’t even tell her he felt weak, yet she knew and helped him. He then motioned for her to stay there, a sudden sense of protection growing inside of him. He moved forward down the hall in a slow and cautious pace. When he reached the door, he heard the words “Police,” ring out. He slowly opened it up and saw two older officers in uniform waiting patiently.

“Christian Kofax?”

“Yes?”

“We’re here to ask you questions about the robbery last night. Daniel Berg refused to comment on anything and told us that you could probably tell us more on what happened.”

Christian stared at the officers. A small smile grew on as face as one thought came into mind.

You’re a good man, Daniel.