I still haven't gone over precisely what I do. I mean, you know I'm a criminal who hunts other criminals, a sort of ex hero of justice in a way. But it's so much more than just that. It's so much more to expand on than that. I can see with these eyes everything there is to see. Someone like me can see an aura around someone else. I can sense the color of that aura, and after years of studying what each color means, I detect someone's true nature and chase those with an ominous feeling. Have I been wrong before? Yes, we aren't always perfect in our judgment, and even I make mistakes. Or rather, I made a mistake, a simple mistake. Yes. My one mistake was trusting these eyes so aggressively. They change colors based on how I'm feeling, and when I use them, I take the feelings of whoever I'm looking in to. That only happens when I'm using my eyes for too long or someone's feelings are powerful. This was one of those times. Those times when I'm overwhelmed by the sheer force of someone's emotions. Imagine wind. Lifeless and still. Now imagine the wind flowing through the air. Now imagine a brick wall standing against the force of the wind. That's the barrier that holds my emotions. I take in the sensations of whoever I look into, and as long as the winds of their feelings are subtle or not strong, the barrier will hold. When my eyes change, the wall has broken. I start to see things differently when that happens. Illusions take shape and form my most desperate fears. Usually, it will be some range of death. Either the figures speak to me, or they seek to kill me. It's always about death. When I opened that door, death was what I walked in on. Yet it wasn't there. Lisa didn't die, and it took some time for my eyes to adjust. Lisa didn't kill herself. She killed someone else. Blood trickled down from the knife she used, cuts and bruises on her body tell me the dead body fought back. Lisa struggled with the person. And who did she kill? He was some random that worked upstairs third-floor desk nerd from IT. She stabbed him in the neck repeatedly to stub his voice from screaming out. After lashing out at him, she continued to defile his corpse by bathing in his blood. She's covered from head to toe in it, and her face tells no remorse in her actions. It's dark in this room. The only light showing is a dim lamp hanging from the ceiling. All the other lights are off except for that one. A million different things run through my mind, and a thousand of them could be true. I can't connect the dots on how this outcome came to persist. Her face changed instantly when she noticed me. Her twisted and cracked smile shifts into a docile miserable one. She pleas and gives signs of distress. Lisa was begging for forgiveness, begging for redemption. If I was gullible, I might have fallen for it. I slowly walk forward, asking her to drop her weapon and surrender herself. My plan is this. I have deducted what happened between her and Jim. She killed him. Whether psychologically or physically, she did it. She pushed him over the edge and dumped him. Using her words and mean attitude to bring him down to the lowest level. Until he couldn't live without her, she never felt remorse for her actions and instantly looked for a new target. She knew I was watching them earlier and chose me to be her next chunk of the spotlight. She wanted to lead me down here where no one would come looking and kill me within an instant. What she didn't count for was the fact that the I.T guy uses this room often to hide away from the boss. She tried to get the guy out of there quickly before I came, and everything crumbled before her. She killed him due to him not leaving fast enough, then after taking a life; she lost herself in the blood and gore. She only awoke to someone opening the door. That sweet person is me, and she thinks that she can lie her way out of this, but she is poorly mistaken. Lisa spoke while walking closer.
"I couldn't control myself. I lost my mind trying to live with the thought of losing Jim."
That line irked my nerves.
"I didn't know I cared for him or anyone like that until he left me. Jim was such a great guy, and I've not only taken his life, but I've also taken another. What type of world is that? In a world destroyed by corruption, a world where false media and fake love blind us. I could only see Jim. He was my light, and he's gone. I wanted to kill everyone's light because of that, blinding them as they blinded me. Now, look at what I've become. I'm sorry for his family. What I did was unforgivable, can't you understand? You have to go through all of this. You have to watch as I fall into oblivion. I'm sorry."
She's inches from me now, and she brandishes her knife aiming to kill me. Part of me wants to let her. What a story that would be the great deadman killed by some crazed psycho love child. That was just her excuse though we know what she is. She is the same as me, a murderer. Her only insight is most likely some lost cause for justice. She could've been traumatized as a child and wanted to kill all men. I could be her ticket out. She could earn her freedom by killing me. She can be free from those demons that haunt her at night. Her knife rushes towards my chest, and her eyes glisten in the dark. She's happy a smile stretches across that face of hers she thinks she's won. My quick reflexes kick in, and I dodge the blade tripping her in the process. She crashes into the ground and jumps up, spinning and trying to attack me again. No words, no sounds, just two people fighting for their lives. Her aura shines a dark color. She wants death. Her blade scratches my ear but not close enough. She stabs at my neck, but I grab her wrists and throw her away. All of her jabs and cuts only leave minor damage to my skin. I'm waiting for an opening to kill her in one strike. She's growing tired. Her arm goes limp as she falls over in fatigue. I guess killing someone takes a toll on you. She looks up to me, and her entire demeanor changes. I kneel to her face and speak.
"It amazes me you fought for that long but did you think a woman like you could fight me. You are nothing compared to me. You aren't even a true killer like myself. I'll take pride in ending your life. Jim would've wanted it."
Those last words came out on the fly. They stung Lisa to some degree because she fell over in tears. Those same tears begin falling down my face too. My mistakes keep flashing in my head back and forth. Her emotions are so strong, but I can't pinpoint what they are. I take the knife from her and stand over her again. I bask in my glory. I found a way to kill without K'Layah knowing. Lisa will be my first kill in my new life. The ability to change between the deadman and the real me is finally in effect. I lift her head and yank her by the hair. A small gasp escapes her mouth as she cries in agony. I steer the blade towards her neck until she throws me over. Of course, she wouldn't die so quickly. Now we both lay on the ground reaching for the knife knocked out of my hand. I kick her in the chest and jump towards it, but she grabs my foot and yanks me back. It only brings me further from my goal. I start to get angry. Why is this corporate lunch meat toe to toe with me in combat? She gives up hope of grabbing the knife, takes a towel around my throat, and strangles me. My only miscalculation had to be this. My eyes betray me. They have made me weak from her tearing up, and I can't put up my full strength. I roll and reach for any tool to hit her with, but nothing is in reach. I slowly blackout, losing consciousness and forgetting why I was there. Things start to go dim, fading away from life. I sit there motionless. My last breath of air escaped my mouth. She's won. Or so I thought. The loud splatter sprays blood all over the walls. Dips of brain and chunks of memories stain the floors. I attempt to catch my breath and roll onto my back. Standing in the doorway, gun in hand with smoke oozing from the barrel, was K'Layah. In full cop uniform stainless steel boots and her hair brazen to the side, she stood there—anger on her face as she walked forward, speaking something. I couldn't make it out. I couldn't understand her at all. My mind drifted too far away from this moment. I passed out, and the last thing I heard was,
"You have to right to remain silent."
I awoke not in a hospital bed but behind prison bars. This time, not the interrogation room I'm used too, there will be no questions asked, no second chances. A tall, dark policeman walked up to the bars and looked at me. He doesn't say anything. He stares at me. He stares deeply into my soul. It makes me uncomfortable, and I try to show off some discomfort. When I do, he smiles. His grin shows his crooked teeth. A gold tooth shines in the light. He is old. He's seen things I don't even want to admit to seeing. He touches the bars on the cell and walks away. That's the only interaction with humans I have all day. That whole day was full of silence—no connection to the outside world, no way to contact the news or kill anyone at all. I was locked behind bars, stowed away like a criminal. It got so bad I started to think maybe I was a criminal. No police came to chat; no one came to say anything. It slowly drove me mad, but I knew I was being watched. I couldn't speak to my demons; I couldn't use my powers to see the aura of whoever. I was stuck. It's like they countered me in every way. That was day one. Day two left me with some interaction with humans. Three guards in all black armor came to the cell. One spoke,
"Stand up and get ready to move. Do not speak or say anything to anyone."
I followed his orders, not much for me to do against him. I can't see his eyes or skin to use my powers, so I best comply. I walked behind him, followed by the two other guards. They took me down halls with twists and turns, until I stood in front of a wooden door. The door opened, and I was pushed forward. A giant mirror stood ahead of me with two speakers reaching from the top. A noise came through that sounded like a voice. It started.
"Are you the Deadman?"
I made sure not to make any sudden movements. I'd been had; the first person I ever chose to love has betrayed me. Anger fluttered through my soul. I looked into the mirror, but no eyes stared back. Can they even see me? Are they even there? I look around the room but to no avail. The speakers creak again.
"How long have you been the Deadman?"
Still, I don't respond. I stare blankly forward, refusing to admit anything. I wait for a few seconds, then the door opens, and I'm rushed back to my cell. No words were exchanged on the way there. No comments are announced at all. I'm still blindly in here behind bars, locked with no way out. The world could be burning away, and I wouldn't know. I lay on the bed, looking into the ceiling, whistling away. The tunes of victory ring in my head as I fall back asleep. I've got to find a way out of here.