Emptiness was never a blank void without form to me. I always saw emptiness as a hole in my heart that seemed to be un-fill-able or just missing something that needed to be there in order to feel whole. I had a chance to see both.
A black smoke was covering my vision and distorting my orientation to the ground. My feet were not on anything, it felt like direction depravation no knowing which way was up. Air was all around me, yet I wasn't falling.
Waving my hand to get rid of the smoke, it moved enough to see that darkness surrounded me. Suddenly, my knees touched what felt like sand. A white light shown above me and I looked up to see Baal floating down and landing on the black sand I was kneeling in.
Wiping the sand off my tuxedo jacket and standing, "Very cute, Baal. Very cute!" It was a nice little trick. "Where are we?"
"One of very few places on the planet with black sand in a cave," he laughed darkly. He truly enjoyed this type of haunting disillusionment.
"Hawaii," I brushed off again. "It would have been nicer to have been moved to the outside on the beach instead of in a cave, but I understand you cannot get away from you nature."
"Ha, ha. Touché, Michael," he was looking at me closely.
"Do you really want to do more, Baal?" he raised his hands in innocence. "I admire your persistence, truly. In the end, we already know the outcome. Should that be now?" asking threateningly.
"A publisher once told me the Ending to any story is only in the mind of the Author. Interesting to think about the Author, is it not?" trying to lead me into a discussion I could not have yet.
"Whatever you say, Baal. Did you want to do this or did you have something else to say?" my irritation was getting the better of me.
He raised his cane and the black sand whirled up around me like a tornado and I was standing in the eye. "Practice makes perfect," I thought as my hands went out and thoughts of what I wanted bounced in my mind. Then throwing my hands out, all the sand exploded outward and back down to the ground.
"Anything else, Baal?" my sarcasm was running so high I could have been twelve feet tall.
"I do not need to get to you, Michael," he threw a ring of burning white hot fire out in front of him. "I know your only weakness, my friend," laughing he stepped through the ring and disappeared.
"He is annoying and persistent," said to myself.
Standing in vague darkness in the middle of the cave, it was not a bad sight at all. I had never seen a cave with black sand, or heard of one, and this was pretty unique looking.
Focusing all my emotion on the room, my eyes hazed and twitched with both hands. Once in the room there was no need to look back. It had come down to me figuring out how to let go at the same time. It was getting much simpler.
Standing in the middle of the room with mirrors and cameras on me, my reflection was still in a tuxedo. Quickly closing my eyes and thinking of the scrubs, my hand ran over my cloths. In less than a second the scrubs were back on. Every camera picked up that one.
Sitting Indian style on my bed and trying to relax, my thoughts drifted back to the party and how lost I had felt for most of the night. Actually, Baal did make me feel something, but it was loathing and sickness as he always did.
A lot of time had passed, maybe too much. The need to know was too great. My stomach was complaining, but I had waited too long for this. My heart was aching along with every portion of my body.
Focusing on Delilah, not knowing where she was, with all my emotion, warmth was surging through my body. My eyes were twitching like crazy along with my hands. My heart was beating double beats and racing like a rabbit. The haze came as I closed my eyes.
Opening my eyes and I was in a mirrored room. Confusion overwhelmed me. Looking back and seeing myself on my bed yet I was still in the room on the other end. After a few seconds it became clear I was in another mirrored room in the exact same building. Lying on a bed in front of me was Delilah in all her wondrous grace and beauty.
Split, but not committed, no one could see me. Like an invisible ghost in the shadows, my eyes went over every contour of her extraordinary beauty. She was lying on her side breathing effortlessly as I watched her chest heaving in and out. Her hair was spread out partially across her face as if it was caressing her. Movement under her eyelids told me she was dreaming some inexplicable dream not of this place she was stuck in.
Reaching out to touch her cheek, there was a small tug at the corner of her mouth like she was smiling. Could she tell I was in the room? Quickly, my thoughts were off to decide on the subject of the dream.
Holding her close, my body wrapped around her wanting to let her know I was there. Deep in my mind, she was curled up to me where we could feel one another. Imagining the smell of her hair in my face and her breathing as her body moved in and out, I wanted to choose to be in the room, but I could not.
In an instant she woke up with heavy breathing looking all around. Directly in front of her, watching her elegant movement, my heart was in true and excruciating pain. Glancing at every wall it was almost as if she was searching for me.
"Hello," she was panting and looking frightened. "Is someone there?"
The door opened and a woman in a lab coat walked in. She was carrying a silver serving tray that she put down on the desk. Food was served the same in every cell it seemed.
"I'm here," the woman said, but Delilah still looked frightened and disoriented. "Didn't you hear me come in, dear?"
"No. I thought," she paused and held her tongue. "It was a dream. Just a dream," she put her hands over the artwork that was her face.
"Well, here's your food," the woman said pointing at the tray.
"I don't want anything," she buried her head back in her pillow which made a whimper.
"You have to eat something. You need to keep your strength up," the woman mothered her like a child.
Delilah sat up and turned to face the woman, "I said I don't want anything." Her voice was low and sweet but forceful and sternly guiding with a tone I had never heard from her.
"You don't want it," the woman repeated robotically.
"Take it away," she said with the same voice.
"I'll take it away," the woman picked up the tray and left the room with it.
Delilah rolled over and was just lying there breathing into the pillow. She was able to control the woman's thoughts and feelings. At her will, Delilah made her bend to her own want so effortlessly. Nothing even showed on her face, at any moment, like she was concentrating or even trying.
Going back to my room, Delilah was left curled up and alone in her bed where my thoughts would be the rest of the night. Sitting on my bed and opening my eyes I was sitting on my bed and thinking about what I had just seen. Staring into the mirror, into my own black eyes, all I could think about was Delilah alone and caged in that room.
It was late, but they had food sitting on my desk. I was eating so much they were delivering food at all times of the day. Energy was a difficult thing to sustain for twenty four hours.
With my stomach gurgling in protest, I moved to the desk and to eat the chicken Chef had prepared for me. My mind just drifted back to Delilah in her own despair. The ability to control people's thoughts was amazing, but left her alone because to them she was a high risk liability. Admitting to myself that it was very strange and it was going to take me some time to get use to the thought, it made me feel like I was not alone. The feeling of some satisfaction filled me to at least know where she was.
Thinking back, it seemed so odd, the way that she talked to me that night, the way she seemed a little distant. This really did explain it, if that is what it was. She was trying to stay away because she felt like an outcast and alone. I knew that feeling all too well.
The need to run into her room and collect her into my arms was there. My heart was beating double, again, as sitting there staring off into space consumed by her. She felt more connected to me now than ever before. To say that was pretty amazing. She already owned a missing void in my heart.
Some of the same questions kept coming up for me, though. Why would she not just tell me or at least try to tell me? Why did she work so hard to stay away? How did she know about the house, where to put my hand and where everything was?
Popping up in her room and showing myself to her was running through my mind so often that I could hardly contain it. It was an impossibility, though. The only way she would learn to use her gift to the fullest was out of desperate need. She needed to develop whatever it was she had by becoming one with it and to do that meant being alone.
Torment would become my life as knowing she was right down the hall from me and I could not go to her. It would be difficult to live with, but it was for the best for both of us. Enduring the suffering pull of where she was had its own teachings for me.
Looking down, the fork was just hitting an empty plate. The food had been gone for some time, though the utensil kept digging for more. Putting the tray on the floor I climbed onto the desk and crossed my legs. Closing my eyes, my mind searched frantically for the one thing that would give me a little peace to try and sleep that night.
Quickly, in the 8th floor janitor's closet my scrubs were traded for my black suit. Rushing to the 3rd floor to meet up with Chef and hopefully spend some time cooking. He was still there, still cooking something even though it was pretty late at night.
"You are still here, Chef," out of breath and trying to breathe through my nose to hold it at bay.
"Yes," he looked at me. "I didn't think we were cooking anything until tomorrow night, though."
"We were not supposed to, but I could not go home. I knew I would not sleep if I did," putting my hands on my knees and breathing through my mouth. "Therapy in cooking?" the question was meant as flattery and kinship.
"Always! Cooking is great therapy to get your mind off things. It happens to me all the time," he started pulling out pots and pans. "I constantly have insomnia. I just get up out of bed, head to the kitchen and cook until I'm exhausted. It's a great sleep remedy. I swear by it!" his excitement for cooking was contagious.
He had a way of making me laugh. Even though I was in this place and had to be, his kitchen seemed like an escape no matter what the mood. Cooking or him, there was no telling which was the better distraction.
"Tonight, what would you like to learn?" there was no time to think about that during my day.
"How about Duck a l'Orange?" It was just the first thing that popped into my head.
"Fantastic! That is a great dish to learn," he was very energized. "You know what they say? The first time you make something you screw up. The second time you follow the recipe and get it right. The third time, you make it your own!" He laughed at his cooking Haiku.
It was sound advice. We started work on it right away. One good thing about where I was, they always had every kind of food imaginable, in stock. They catered to whoever might come by for a visit.
We worked as he showed me how to make the perfect sauce. He, as many chefs did, always used his fingers and guesses to measure ingredients. There was constant spoon to tongue as he would taste and taste and taste, it was never enough and never perfect enough.
Even with all the cooking and learning of something new, she was still in every tiny thought. It was going to be torture to try and live through however long it would take before we could hold one another. She had become my own drug that was always in my mind for a fix.
After Chef and I were done cooking and tasting the Duck, my need to talk to someone was a cry for therapy. Not just anyone, but someone that knew me. I needed Matt that night. There was hope he was still awake, possibly celebrating my birthday. That thought made me smile and drove the need more.
Leaving the black suit in the janitor's closet, my eyes closed moving me back to my room. It was just me alone sitting on the bed staring at the mirror. No one would be running tests that late at night.
Knowing that Matt was still at the hotel, but not which room he was in, my focus was on Matt deep in the images. This was the third time moving, with no specific destination, so it was getting easier. My eyes and hands twitched and then revealed the middle of a hotel room.
It was dark with vibrating snoring from my left. Matt was fast asleep. I decided not to shock him awake. Giving him a heart attack was not on my list of things to do.
Turning on the lamp next to his bed, which did not even warrant a stir, "Matt," shaking him. "Matt." He groggily opened an eye. He was lying on his side and looked out of the corner. He jumped up to a sitting position in surprise as if waking from a disturbing nightmare at 3 AM.
"What the hell?!" There would have been more pleasure in his reaction, if it was done on purpose.
"It's just me, Matt." He stopped for a second and looked around as if he didn't know where he was.
"Damn! For a second there I thought we were in the Playhouse." He wiped his face in his hands. "What are you doing here so fucking late?" he was half away and half irritated.
"I found Delilah," his hands dropped from his face.
"Where?" he puzzled over me.
"She is locked up in the building I am in. Just down the hall in fact," trying to keep down the noise and my excitement.
"That's a little strange, isn't it, mate?" He was right to point out the obvious.
"Strange being the norm, she has an ability, too." He got up off the bed.
"Okay, that's scary," he sat on the couch in the room. "What is it? I mean, is she like you?"
"No. So far, from what I can tell, she can control people's minds." He sat there looking at me as if I had just told him I was having an affair with an alien.
His sleep deprived mind was analyzing all the information as it typically did. Watching him piece his thoughts together, as he yawned, was interesting and nerve racking. Matt was always the one to jump to conclusions without thinking things through, but not that night when it was expected.
"What are the chances?" he asked looking dazed.
"Eight Billion to Seven," my grin gave him the 'No Duh' expression.
"I didn't mean that and you know it." The odds that I would fall in love with someone that had something like me going on with them and then end up locked up in the same facility is what he was trying to get at. Coincidence was not even a possibility.
Thinking about that all night never took me anywhere. Statistically, I probably had a better chance of being shot through the head by a person shooting into the air after just jumping out of an airplane than of this happening.
"Have you talked to her?" At some point he was going to ask that question. It was inevitable.
"No. It is not the right time for that," knowing full well he would not understand.
"Why not? How did you see her?" his questions were rolling out now which meant his mind was becoming fully awake.
"First, she needs to learn to control her ability just as I am doing. Second, just the same way I can sit in this room and watch you without you ever knowing." He nodded. He had seen it before and it made sense to him, though there was a suspicion it secretly made him uncomfortable.
"How long will you let this go on, Michael? You're just going to torture yourself?" the caring was evident in his irritated tone.
"As long as it takes and yes, if that is what is needed," without any reason to lie.
At some point he would think of me as losing my mind. That, too, was inevitable. From the outside looking in I would feel the same way. It would be that way until I could finally remove myself from the facility. Now, that was going to take longer. There was no intention of ever leaving that place until she left with me.
"Sorry I woke you," just realizing I was affecting his sleep. "I just needed to talk to you about that and Baal."
"Yeah," as if he had woke up from a dream, "what happened? You guys just disappeared! Bob and I were worried."
"He took me to some cave in Hawaii." There was not a lot to say about it.
"Did you get a Mai-Tai?" he laughed and I followed along.
"He was testing me to see where I was at on the learning curve. I think he was expected a lot less. He did," I sat and thought about it for a second, something he said was starting to gnaw away at me now.
"What?" he was sitting forward on the couch listening intently.
"He said he knew my weakness," looking at him a bit puzzled. Of all people, Baal knew where I was and what I was doing. There was nothing to lose that would affect me. Locked up in a room all day long and splitting myself in order to do other things and test that ability.
"Too bad he didn't tell you," he put his hands over his face again. "Wait. Maybe he did."
"What do you mean?" asking without any ideas.
"Well, right before you two disappeared, where were you and who were you with?" Point well taken. My birthday with all of the family.
"Using you all as leverage," the idea bounced around in my head. "That would be my only weakness as far as he was concerned. Better let Bob know and get people on everyone with descriptions of what Baal looks like and those women. He can take their form." Going after family would cause me to back off and hesitate.
"Okay, can it wait until morning?" he slumped over on the couch.
"Better not. If he said it then he will be far into whatever his plan is, knowing I would figure it out at some point," motioning toward the phone.
"Unless that's part of the plan." The 'What If's' were becoming too numerous.
"We just need to keep focused on having people around everyone. I do not want to waste my time speculating on what he may or may not do. Better tell Bob to speed up the process on finding out who Baal actually is and what he's doing here, too." Nailing down Baal might give me some leverage.
Matt just nodded. His eyes looked so heaving I did not want to sit there and talk to him anymore. He needed to get some sleep and he still had to talk to Bob.
"Goodnight, pal," watching him look up as I was back in my room on the desk.
This was not a good thing. Baal was planning something, but my mind was over worked from the day and the night. Needing to try and sleep, my desire was to lie down and close my eyes.
Behind the glass, the keepers were talking and watching everything I did. Seeing them in my mind, and then smiling at them with a devilishly dark grin, the lights dimmed the lights in the room with my eyes twitching a little.
Delilah was at least safe from Baal in the facility. Lying down on the bed, there was a little tapping on one of the mirrors and looked over.
My heart stopped as the image in the mirror as plain as day. Baal's face was in the mirror staring back at me with his glowing red eyes. Looking on the opposite side of the room, there was no one there. He seemed to be laughing, but no sound was audible from anywhere around me.
His entire body ran the length of the mirror from bottom to top. He was holding his cane in both hands in front of him. Lifting it up, it tapped the bottom of the mirror and a crack formed. Bending down he pulled the crack, like a zipper, from the bottom to the top.
His fingers poked out from the crack into the room and spread the mirror apart like a fly on a pair of pants. Crouching through the opening, he stepped into the room. My eyes rolled back and I could see everyone behind the mirror was on the floor. Some had blood on them and some had blood pouring out of them.
"You killed them?" my anger was growing deep inside of me.
"Yes, of course. I have no need for them. Only you, Michael," he was in all black except a reflective white tie. "Come with me and I will show you how to use that blind rage you are feeling right now," his finger was pointing at my stomach.
"Never! You are insane, Baal." A deep growl stirred as it echoed out of him.
"I know," he said as if I complimented him. He lifted his hand and a ball of fire flew out of it directly at me. Throwing my arms up in a defensive position, the fire was on either side of me, but I could not feel any heat.
"Can you roast marshmallows with that?" saying to him with a smile.
He lifted his cane up and pointed it toward something on the ceiling. The lights all burst. Raising my hand up with my eyes twitching, not knowing what I was doing, and the electricity was hitting me in the hand. Electricity balled up in my hand as I pointed it at Baal. The stream hit him and through him back against the wall with enough force to rattle the room. Baal disappeared into his black smoke which had become his traditional exit.
Tasers drawn, a group of guards burst in with tasers drawn. "What the hell was that?" one of the guards managed to get out.
"Trouble. Nothing but trouble," looking into his eyes. "Check the tapes. He killed everyone behind the mirrors." Two guards stayed with me while the others went to the room behind the glass and started to groan. One of them hit an alarm button which immediately started a chirping siren blaring.
Shaking my head in disgust, I sat down on the bed, Indian style and closed my eyes.