The Dark Passenger

By: Jaime Garza

I am the most primal of human fears, I am the presence behind you when the hair on the back of your neck stands straight, and I am the voice in your head telling you to do unspeakable things. You cannot see me but I am always there; watching, waiting, learning….I am the Dark Passenger. Many times I have heard your cries for help. Pleading for the pain to stop, and yes I was there to telling you that the only way this pain will subside is by blood. You see, for a special person like you Dexter, blood is your life. Not just in the professional sense but right down to the core of your being. The sight, smell, and yearning for blood is what keeps you killing time and time again. Blood is a source of nourishment for your soul, without it you are empty, without it you are nothing. From the moment Harry found you bathed in your Mother's blood with her dismembered body at your feet, I knew I had you in the palm of my hand. Silly Dexter, you thought you could run and escape my grasp by faking your death and running off to some no name town far from your trail of destruction. There is nowhere for you to run or hide, for I am with you now and always. I will wait for the right time to come out of hibernation. You will think that your life has started over and you will think that I am gone. But don't worry, I am simply patiently waiting to make my grand entrance. Until then, sleep tight Dexter…and sweet dreams my old friend.

Dexter awoke violently drenched in sweat. He quickly looked around his room not sure what had just happened. Was this just a nightmare or something far more sinister than that? It has been months since he had the urge to kill. It seems as though his new life is shaping up for the best. Yes of course, this came at the cost of losing his entire family and everything he ever knew, but for once in his life the voice in his head was silent.

Dexter was now living in a small logging town in Alaska the polar opposite of Miami by far. His job was to haul the trees from the logging site to other nearby towns for further processing. It wasn't glamorous and the pay was horrible, but it gave Dexter a sense of peace. After a long haul he usually stops by the local pub for a drink and something to eat. It's a quiet place and everyone usually leaves him alone. Dexter is known as a loner in town with no friends or enemies, but that is about to change.

The door to the pub flew open and in walked a man that no one had ever seen before. He was a huge man, about 6'5" roughly 280 lbs with a 10 inch knife on his side. He went straight to the bar and yelled for the bartender to give him a drink. The man looked around the bar sizing everyone up as if he was looking for a fight. His gaze stopped at Dexter. Dexter looked up and locked eyes with this giant of a man and didn't even blink. The man turned and spit on the floor insinuating that there was no one worthy of challenging him here. The bartender told the man that there was no need to act hostile and disrespectful in his bar. The enraged man reached back and slapped the bartender so hard that his head broke the glass mirror at the back of the bar. Seeing this, Dexter stood up and ran behind the bar to help the bartender. The huge man was laughing the whole time mocking Dexter as he aided the bartender. While kneeling next to unconscious bartender Dexter began to feel something coming over him. Something very familiar was beginning to come to the surface. His heart started to race, his palms sweaty, the smell of blood in the air was enough to make Dexter want to lunge over the bar and kill that over-sized man with his own knife. Dexter imagined how good it would feel to drive that blade through his chest as he had done so many times before. Then he snapped out of it gasping for air in disbelief. Could it be, had his dark passenger returned?

Dexter ran out of the bar and jumped in his truck and sped home. Scared of what he was feeling because he wanted to kill that man with a bloody passion. As soon as he went inside his house Dexter passed out and hit the floor.

"Why hello old friend, don't you remember me?"

"I know it has been some time since we last talked and how I've missed you."

"It seems as though we have some catching up to do."

"Don't worry my friend you just lay there and take a nap, I'll take care of the rest."

When Dexter came to he was in his garage covered in blood standing over the dead body of the man from the bar. The man had been killed with his own knife which was, oddly enough, buried to the handle in his chest. Dexter couldn't believe what he was seeing. Did he do this? That was when Dexter heard an old familiar voice.

"Oh that felt good didn't it Dexter? It has been way too long since we "worked" together."

Dexter covered his ears slapping the sides of his head begging for the voice to stop. But that only made it grow louder and louder.

"There's no running from what you are Dexter. You cannot stop what comes naturally to you. You are an instrument of war sent out to destroy those that would defy us and our cause. Now join me my son, our journey has only just begun."