In the minds of
C R O S S R O A D
C R O S S R O A D
Location Doctor Faust's Manor - Outskirts of the city
Part IV / Finale
18:45 PM - The Next Day
Joseph was having nightmares. Fragmented, fractured and broken, like he was looking at them through the shards of a broken mirror, but everytime he tried to peer into a shard, he was flung into another dream. It was exhausting and terrifying. The only things he could comprehend were darkness and evil, a unimaginable amount of evil. Hatred, rage, anger, vengeance and self-vindication. And the voice. That god damned voice. Murmuring in the darkness, as if from the abyss below, howling at him and mocking his despair, his confusion and his pain deep down into his subconcious. He woke up with a turn, twisting in the bed, looking over to his side. He was in a different room now, on the other side of the building after the break-in the previous night.
Before him sat a shadow on the edge of the bed. Well, not quite a shadow. It was hard to tell what it was. It looked like the silhouette of a man, arms, legs, torso, head. But there were no features on the man, only a distorted outline that looked a almost fuzzy kind of red in the darkness. "What the fuc-" He exclaimed, as the shadow quickly put it's finger to it's mouth and shushed him, and for some reason he did it, almost instinctively. Like a dog following the orders of it's master.
"You've been asleep for far too long, child. It is time for you to awaken. There is much work to be done. The voice spoke, the same one he had heard before. But this time it was so much clearer, almost unbearable. It felt like it was coming both out of the man itself, but also from the very room itself, echoing like the most expensive home cinema in the world. At some point it would've hit Joseph that the voice was also coming from inside of him, it was echoing inside of his head and all around him. There was no escape. Yet, the old detective wasn't scared. No, he was terrified. But he wasn't going to try to run away, not at all. He was oddly calm in his terror, almost rational and this was the first bit of clarity he had felt since he had woken up for the first time two weeks ago.
"Who are you?.. What are you?" Joseph spoke, carefully and the man shifted on the edge of the bed, and then he smiled, a red streak appeared in the almost void-like blackness on his face.
"You got balls, kid." The voice said with a chuckle that almost shattered the windows.
"An all mighty lord of hell - King of Demons shows up at your bedside, and you ask me for my badgenumber? I'm impressed. The voice admitted coyly, a playful smirk on his face.
"A.. a demon? Hell?"
"What do you think those visions you've been having are? It's your feeble human brain trying to grasp what the big oven's really like. Well, what's left of your brain after I pieced it all back together for you. Was quite the mess, it being spilled all over the road after you got killed."
"I.. Died? Bullet, right? Joseph fumbled, feeling the scar on the back of his head.
"You didn't just die, Joseph. You got destroyed. Executed like a dog in the street. No one came for you. No one to help you. No one but me."
"But it's a miracle that I'm alive." Joseph tried to protest and the voice laughed at him - not with him this time.
"It wasn't a miracle that brought you back to life and pieced you back together. No miracle could do that. Me, however? Not even a sweat. That's our deal, after all. The demon taunted him as Joseph got vertigo and felt like he was shot out of a cannon and into a brick wall, a falling sensation as he woke up - this time for real. Drenched in sweat, his new hand had pierced the mattress and tore the bed almost in half. His heart was racing and he felt like he was about to fall apart. A sense of terror he had never felt before, an adrenaline rush than he had ever felt during his times in a war zone. He was quivering, freezing and sweating like a pig. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth too hard. amongst the visions he had seen in his dream one thing remained constant, the pressence of the woman. The woman who's name is forever etched onto his wrist.
He had to get out of here.