Chapter 17: Last in Line

As David drove to Alex's, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of euphoria. Shooting Patricia just felt so good. To finally take control of his life, and show them he wasn't going to go down quietly. His tail had been wagging ever since he left the house and he couldn't make it stop. With Luther it was more of a crime of convenience. David reacted to the long bottled resentment he'd been harboring, but with Patricia, he had a chance to think it through, see his options and decide what to do next.

He was glad with his decision. Now there was just one more. One more and he could officially move on.

David looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He still hadn't decided whether to add Eric to the list. If so, he would need to figure out how to deal with a spirit. “So how long have you been watching me?"

A voice responded in his mind. “C'mon, David, are we really doing this now?"

David slammed on the brakes. The pickup came a sudden stop in the middle of the street. David glared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “We are. Now answer the fucking question."

“…Okay. I've been watching you for a few years, just after you and Lori became serious. That good enough? Can you go back to taking us to Alex?"

David started driving again, more slowly this time. He constantly glanced at his reflection. It seemed odd since he was only seeing himself, but it made talking to Eric easier.

“So what about Rob? All that stuff he was saying was you wasn't it?" he asked.

“Yes. The recommendation to go online, the blind-date with Stephanie, going into hiding, it was all me."

David tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “So, where's Rob now?"

“Probably at home."

“Probably? Did you kill him?"

“What the hell makes you think I killed him?" When David didn't respond, Eric sighed and said, “No, I didn't kill him. But he's not exactly himself anymore."

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Eric hesitated before answering. “Because I forced my way into his mind so many times, I kinda…broke him. Short version: the lights are on, but nobody's home."

David growled at his reflection. “You broke my friend's mind?"

“Hey, he wasn't your friend," Eric said firmly. “He knew about the affair and left you in the dark so he could figure out how to use it for his benefit. The guy was always ditching you at the first opportunity, what kind of friend is that?"

“He always had my back when it counted."

“Except for when it came to Lori."

“Let's get one thing straight: You don't get to talk about her, understand?"

“David, Anya was lying. I had nothing to do with Lori's death."

“So you say," David replied with a low growl. “Why should I believe you when you've been lying to me from the beginning? All you ever cared about was taking my body."

“I didn't lie to you. I just left that part out. And I actually do care about you."

“Bullshit. The only reason you contacted me is because I was easy prey. You needed someone desperate who had given up on their life, and I was the perfect patsy."

“If all I cared about was taking control, why would I help you?"

David didn't respond. There were plenty of reasons why Eric would want to help him get his life back in order, but he wasn't in the mood to debate. The time for sharing was over. It was Eric's turn to start talking. “So what exactly are you? Some kind of spirit that hasn't crossed over?"

“I don't know what I am. I don't remember much about my past. It's been a while. Eventually, I learned to stop dwelling on it."

“Are there others like you? Is there a chance Lori's spirit could be out there somewhere?"

“Honestly, I wouldn't know. It's not like spirits post updates on Instagram. But I think Lori would've made contact if she were still here."

“But you didn't leave. After all the shit that was going on, wouldn't Lori want to stay behind?"

“It doesn't work like that. If it was just about having unfinished business, no one would cross over."

David raised a brow at his reflection again. “Then why are you still here?"

“Because…there was something I wanted, and I wanted it so badly, it kept me tied to this world."

“That wasn't answering my question. I'm pretty sure by now you got what you wanted."

“Honestly, I don't know why I'm still here. I…I don't know how to leave."

David was silent for the rest of the drive. Eric didn't say anything, either. Eric's days were numbered—there was no getting around that. Helpful or not, Eric was in it for what he wanted, just like everyone else.

One way or another, Eric was going to pay, just like everyone else.

Alex's house looked different than what David was expecting. He expected something that screamed nihilist, but the outside actually looked inviting. Seeing it pissed him off. Alex was tearing other people's lives apart while she lived comfortably. The front of the house was still, but he knew Alex was inside. Somehow he could sense her presence.

David shut off the engine and glared at his reflection. “Well, when this over, I want you gone, and you better hope I never meet you again."

“Don't threaten me, David. You forget I can still make your life a living hell if I wanted to."

David laughed. “I'm so scared. Go ahead. Do your worst."

He felt Eric tugging at the edges of his consciousness, trying to take control, but David held firm. Just like Eric needed permission to enter his mind, it seemed permission was needed to leave as well. Before, David was too indecisive, too fretful to decide what he needed.

But thanks to Anya, his mind was made up.

David smirked at his reflection. “I didn't think so. Now you're going to sit quietly until I decide what to do with you."

Taking Eric's silence as acceptance, David approached the house. Alex was being cautious. The windows and doors were locked, but Alex forgot to remove the spare key hidden behind a loose brick just below the bathroom window on the side of the house. It was a clever hiding place; no one would think to look there unless they knew. He didn't question how he knew that, just chalked it up to another benefit of having Eric in his head.

He retrieved the spare key and used it to unlock the front door. He left the door unlocked. Anya was coming, and there was no point in trying to keep her out.

The inside of the house was just as cozy as the outside suggested. If David didn't know better, he would've sworn he had the wrong place. He walked casually up the stairs, knowing that was where Alex would be. His footsteps were silent. He thought of what he would do to her. With Anya on her way, he couldn't take his time like he wanted, but a quick death was too good for Alex. Something in-between the two would have to suffice.

Alex's bedroom was at the end of the hall, the door half-closed. As he approached the door, he could hear her moving about in a hurry. He inhaled deeply. The air was thick with her fear.

She knew he was coming. Good. That'll make it all the sweeter when she finds herself cornered, he thought.

David slowly pushed open the door and saw a suitcase half-stuffed with clothes sitting in the middle of the bed.

Alex came into view, carrying several bundled shirts in her arms, mumbling deliriously to herself. Her shining dark hair and red fur were a mess. She spun around to retrieve more clothes and froze at the sight of David standing in her bedroom doorway.

David smiled and pulled the revolver from his waistband. “Hello, Alex. We need to talk."

Alex's wide eyes followed the revolver as David waved it around. “D-D-David, look, I know I—"

“Sit down."

Alex snapped her mouth closed and sat on the edge of the bed, never taking her eyes off the revolver.

David smiled. “Oh don't worry. I'm not gonna shoot you." He snatched out the knife and slashed Alex's cheek. She screamed in pain and clutched at the cut on her cheek, blood leaking between her fingers. “I'm gonna bleed you dry, just like you tried to do to me."

****

Anya sped down the street as fast as she could, breaking every traffic law she could think of. Her plan was to get the attention of the police and bring them to Alex's with her. Oddly, she never passed a squad car or heard any sirens following her.

The bastard wants to make sure it'll just be me and him, she thought. I don't like the idea of being alone in the house with him, but it might be for the best. Anyone else at this point would shoot first and ask later.

She thought back on when she last saw David. The lack of emotion in his eyes, the way he killed Patricia and wounded Stephanie without any hesitation. He wouldn't give her any preferential treatment; perhaps it would be better to kill him. “No," she said out loud. “I refuse to believe that. He can still be saved. After everything he was put through, he deserves that much." She believed that, but the rest of the world wouldn't see it that way. David was right about one thing: all that awaited him at the end of this was a long and nasty trial. He would essentially be right back where he started. Maybe death was a mercy.

Anya shook the thoughts from her mind. Right now, stopping David from digging himself a deeper hole was her top priority. The rest could come later.

 A red pickup has been parked in front of Alex's house. Anya assumed it belonged to David and parked alongside it, boxing him in. At least if he got away, it would buy her some extra time. She rushed out of the SUV and ran for the front door. She threw her weight against the door, expecting resistance, but instead the door swung open effortlessly, nearly throwing her to floor.

The moment Anya burst through the front door, there was the booming sound of a gunshot and the doorway next to her ear burst into splinters. She immediately dove to side, rolling into the living room, and ducked behind the sofa.

“Detective, so nice of you to join us," David called from somewhere upstairs. “Just in case you were wondering, Alex is still alive. I haven't killed her…yet."

Anya swore under her breath. What was she thinking, running into the house, unarmed, knowing David had a gun? That first shot was a warning shot. He could've taken her head off if he had a mind. This wasn't the same David she knew. Eric's words jumped to the front of her mind: “This is one sick puppy, and I'm the only thing holding him back." It made her feel sick. If Lori hadn't died, if Luther hadn't tormented him for the last year, would David have fallen this far?

“What do you mean, David?" Anya shouted back. “What did you do?"

“Alex and I have been playing a little game," David said calmly. “It's called death by a thousand cuts. I'm sure you've heard of it. It'll take her a while to bleed out, and she'll be in excruciating pain the whole way, listening to help being just a few feet away and knowing it'll never come for her. It seemed a fitting end for her."

Anya swore under her breath. She had less time than she thought. “David, this isn't you!"

“Tell you what, Detective, when you have your life ripped apart by assholes then you get to tell me how to act. I put up with their bullshit for too long, and I'm sick of it."

Anya carefully peeked over the sofa. She could see the bottom of the stairs, but not much else. She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it into the hall. David's shot was dead on, hitting the pillow in mid-air, scattering feathers everywhere. “Revenge is not the way to go, David. You know that better than anyone."

 “Don't patronize me, Detective," David growled. “I'm not a child. You know in the real world, you know being the bigger person only makes you a fucking doormat. I was such a sucker, I got spirits looking to take advantage of me!" He fired two more shots.

Anya grabbed another pillow and crept toward the kitchen. “So you stoop to their level? What happens when you succeed in killing everyone? You'll spend the rest of your life on the run. Is that how you want to live?"

“My life's already fucked, Anya!"

Anya reached the kitchen. She went to counter and grabbed a knife from the magnetic runner on the counter and several plates from the cabinet. The plates wouldn't stop a bullet, but David would have a hard time aiming with a glass disc flying at his head. Now all she needed was a way to get a clear line of sight without getting her head blown off.

There was a stairwell in the kitchen leading upstairs. Anya crept up to it and using a large metal spoon, peered around the corner. There was no sign David was at the top, but it was narrow. If he saw her, she'd be an easy target.

There was nothing else for it. She took a deep breath and started up the stairs, praying there wasn't a loose floorboard.

David's mind was made up. He wasn't going to be talked down no matter what she said. David had resigned himself to dying; all he cared about now was taking everyone else down first.

All Anya could do was make the end as painless as possible.

When she made it halfway to the top, David shouted, “I know you're down there, Detective! You might want to hurry up. Alex isn't looking so good."

I'd be more worried about myself, David, Anya thought. She was three steps away from the top when there was the loud creaking of a loose floorboard. Fuck!

She broke into a run, jumping up the last two stairs as David began firing. She dove through the first open door she saw and kicked it closed. David continued firing, filling the door and the walls with holes. Anya lay face down on the floor, covering her head as her body was showered in splintered wood and plaster.

The moment the firing stopped, Anya jumped to her feet and rushed out of the room. David tackled her the moment she entered the hall. Anya's head struck the floor and her vision swam. She then felt hands clasp around her throat. She struggled beneath him but was unable to knock him off.

“You couldn't just leave me alone could you?" David said. There was something in David's voice. Instead of anger or felicity, he sounded almost remorseful. “Let's say I do give up, what then? What do I have to look forward to? They need to pay. They all need to pay. Everyone spent so much time and effort trying to make me out to be a monster. They forgot why no one wants to believe monsters are real."

Anya was too busy trying not to lose consciousness to argue. She would've helped him. She was so close to finding something on Luther. To making an arrest and bringing the truth to light. If David had waited just a little bit longer, he wouldn't be in this mess.

I'm real sorry for this. I truly am. Anya thought just before bringing her knee up into David's crotch. He yelped and rolled away from her. Anya continued to lay on the floor, filling her burning lungs with oxygen.

David recovered first, picked up the knife from the floor, and started walking back down the hall. Anya turned and saw her glock sitting on the floor nearby. She snatched it up and checked the clip. There were still rounds left. She shoved the clip back in and pointed the gun at David.

“Freeze!"

David stopped. He slowly turned around, looked at the pistol in her hands and smiled. “Forgot I dropped that thing. Guess I should've grabbed it when I had the chance." He held his arms out. “Go ahead. Finish it."

“David Somerson," Anya said breathlessly. “You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Any you say and will be used against you—"

“DO IT!"

“—in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

David dropped his arms, a humorless smirk on his muzzle. “You really aren't giving up on me, are you?"

“You're not a monster, David," Anya said softly. “I won't let you turn yourself into one because you think it's the only option you have."

He started walking toward her. “You say it like I have a choice in the matter."

“David, stop," Anya ordered.

David kept walking. Anya palms began to feel slick. She tightened her grip on the glock and shouted, “I said freeze!"

David didn't slow down. He continued his advance, his eyes locked on Anya's.

“David, don't."

“David is dead. Has been for a long time. His body just hasn't caught up yet."

Anya backed away until her back hit a wall. She noticed David tightening his grip on the knife. She saw it in his eyes that he meant to kill her. She racked her brain for something, a thought, a memory, a phrase. Anything to talk David back from the brink.

But nothing came to mind. David was only two maybe three steps away from being close enough to end her life.

Even if Anya had thought of something. No words would reach David fast enough. “Damn you, David!" she screamed as she squeezed the trigger.

The pop of the gun was deafening. David's head snapped backward and fell almost in a comical fashion to the floor.

Anya slowly lowered her arms. She had done it. It was over. She almost expected something different. Some kind of sign of Eric escaping at the last second to find a new victim. David's eyes were still open. Anya closed David's eyes then hurried down the hall. “Alex! Alex, where are you?"

Alex was lying on the blood-soaked bed, unmoving, her body covered in lacerations. Anya ran over and checked for a pulse, sighing with relief upon finding one. It was weak, but she was still alive.

Anya snatched the cell phone from the nightstand and dialed 911. “My name is Detective Anya Corázon, badge number 5189. I need a bus sent to 862 Lancer Avenue. I have a female anthro, early thirties, with a headwound. Also…one deceased. Male anthro, mid-twenties."

“Okay, help is on the way, Detective," the operator said. “Shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

Anya nodded and hung up the phone. She chose to stay with Alex until the paramedics arrived.

****

Anya sat quietly in the hospital waiting room. The scene of her shooting David replayed in her mind over and over. She kept thinking of how she could've handled it differently. What she could've done to stop it. Every time she tried to focus her thoughts on something else, that scene returned again.

She continued to replay David's final moments until the doctor appeared to tell her she could speak to Alex.

“It turned out a lot of her cuts were superficial," the doctor said. “The damage looked worse than it actually was. Now I've given her some pain medication, so she's a little out of it."

“Don't worry about it, doc. I won't be long," Anya replied as she headed for Alex's room. If the damage looked worse than it was, Anya didn't want to see the doctor's definition of heavy damage. Most of Alex's face, neck, and arms were covered in bandages, and that was just the parts Anya could see.

Alex's ears perked up when Anya entered the room. “Detective," she said weakly. “I hear you're the one who saved my life. I really don't know to repay you."

“I'm not allowed to accept rewards for doing my job," Anya said. “Someone'll come in to take your statement soon. Just wanted to know what you were going to say."

“That sounds a lot like a threat. What's wrong with telling them the truth? A madman broke into my house and tried to kill me."

“I'm not here to threaten you," Anya said, keeping her irritation in check. “Just remind you not to take a victory lap now that David acted like the violent psycho you claimed he was."

Alex's ears fell and she looked away. “I get it, Detective. I put pressure on an already unstable mind and drove him to insanity. Now before you start lecturing me, I was held down and tortured in my own home. I have to carry the scars of what he did to for the rest of my life. I'm never going to feel safe in my home again. I'll probably never sleep again either. I think I paid my price." She turned back to Anya, her eyes firm. “I won't try to dress it up as anything more than what it was, a desperate act by a desperate man."

Anya nodded and left the room. She hadn't come to chastise Alex for her actions. If David's attack didn't open Alex's eyes, then she truly was heartless and beyond all hope.

Stephanie was in the hospital across town, and Anya wanted to visit her before heading back to the station. Stephanie needed to know David was dead, and Anya preferred delivering the news in person. It would be a long drive, Anya didn't mind. She wanted time to think anyway.

News of David's attack on Alex had already made the news. The exact details were vague, but it was enough for strong speculations. What caught Anya's attention was when the reporter mentioned that Alex's attack was just another in a long string of violent incidents in the last few months. It had left the public in a state of perpetual fear. Before, Anya had just chalked it up to random incidents, but now she knew better. David had done it. He succeeded into dragging everyone into his hell. Anyone even close to someone involved would never be the same.

It was all Eric's fault. He pushed David down that road, or rather he stopped David from turning off it. If Eric hadn't egged him on, maybe things would've ended differently. But Eric was still out there as far as Anya knew. He probably had a backup victim lined up while he was leading David on.

Anya clenched the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She wanted to punch something so badly. To just scream and break everything around her until she was satisfied. David would go down as a murdering psychopath, and no one would know the truth. She was likely going to lose her badge. To top it off, there was a some kind of spirit possessing people and forcing them to commit horrible acts running loose. It wasn't the ending she had in mind.

“Now I'm sorry that Alex Fields was attacked like that," radio host said. “I wouldn't wish a home invasion on my worst enemy, but let's be honest, she kinda had it coming. I bet there are a lot of people thinking she got what she deserved."

Anya switched the radio off. Thinking that way is what started all this, she thought.