Phantom

Okanogan Valley

"Shape shifting high
and a haunted eye.
Falling plastic and paper demons!
No trace of time,
I'm branded sly,
I am your ghost-master,

Baby free me."
- "Return of the Phantom Stranger," Rob Zombie

The moonlight shines on the floor, and Psymon knows something is wrong. He never sleeps without the curtains drawn, the demon could come in more quickly and more easily than usual. He tries to turn over, but finds he is restrained, held down by two thick plastic straps across his one across his chest and arms, and one across his legs. They are barring him to the uncomfortable table he lies on, a table that is made of cold metal, ice cold against his already freezing skin. Psymon hears a door open to his right side and flips his head over slowly to see the intruder.

It's a doctor of some sort, with the white lab coat, and a full face mask… The kind of mask pathologists wear when performing an autopsy on a body with a new epidemic virus still living within it. Psymon gets scared out of his wits at the sight of this mask. The doctor turns around, a chain mail autopsy glove on one hand, a long knife in the other Latex-shrouded hand. He nods to himself, then places the left hand, with the chain mail glove, on Psymon's chest… the blade in the right had nears his belly button shaking slightly with the nervousness of the doctor… and then there is searing pain as Psymon feels the dagger plunging through his skin, tearing a ling in it from his lower abdomen, through muscle, to his chest cavity between his ribs. The pain, the blood running out of his body… the two put together make Psymon scream loudly.

It is then that the doctor grins maniacally behind his mask. It is then that upon that doctor's chuckle that an acrid scent fills the air, a scent of burning flesh, and rotting corpses, and wretched, dying souls fill the air. It is Satan's signature scent. And Psymon recognizes it as belonging to his inner demon, a thing that found it so easy to devour his soul that he's cutting up Psymon for easier access to his human heart. The demon pulls off the mask and tears off his lab coat, revealing his translucent skin, with the organs pumping within… And it is then that Psymon screams so loudly, he wakes up his dear Alexia, even though she is two-thousand miles away.

And the demon is nearly freed, yet Psymon is waking up, as well. And so the demon heads back to his lair within Psymon's soul, hidden deep in the back of his mind, out of sight until the next time he dares fall asleep.

***

Alexia shot up in bed, her sheets soaked with sweat, pain in her abdomen, straight up her heart. She already could not recall the dream… but those screams… Psymon's wails… Was she really right in leaving him? She closed her eyes, letting the lids drop down slowly. But she wasn't alone in her head.

Lex… Psymon's voice echoed softly throughout her brain. Alexia's eyes shot open, and she tried to decide if she was going to reply. What if he requested her to come back to him? Could she stay away for his sake? Or would she head back as soon as possible, no matter that he was in Japan? We're sharing dreams, Lex. Her heart stilled… if Psymon was still having nightmares, it meant that it wasn't her that brought them on, it was just… his life. And if she could help him change it… No. Alexia wasn't going to take the chance.

"All you know,
is alone,
you see a,
Phantom Stranger!
Down you go,
all alone,
you love my,
Phantom Stranger!
"

His girl had left him. His beautiful girl had resigned her spot on the Tricky circuit and had left without a single word. Psymon trudged down the hall slowly, feeling quite alone in the roaring silence of the nicely decorated hotel. There wasn't a single soul in sight; not a surprise at two in the morning. But he had come up a floor to see Zoë, to ask her for help, to make him forget. Because he didn't think that anyone could.

Stopping in front of Room 1032, Psymon turned slowly, raised his hand, and knocked upon the plain white-painted metal door. Listening to the quiet noises coming from within, he heard the TV turn off from its rap video, and a pair of feet lightly padding against the softly carpeted floor. The door opened two inches, restrained by the safety chain. Zoë's dark eyes and the middle of her face appeared, her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity over eyes narrowed down to slits.

"Yeah?" she growled lightly, obviously disgruntled from being interrupted.

"Zoë, I just wanted to talk to you," Psymon started.

"Which you're already doing," Zoë interrupted coolly. "We don't really have much to say to one another, you know?"

"Yeah… but I need your help…" Psymon struggled to say the words, hating to need anything from anyone.

"Whatever happened to A-lex-i-a?" Zoë drawled lightly, staring him down from inside her darkened room, through that two inch crack.

"She left," Psymon told her with an edge in his voice, looking her straight in the eye, not blinking. "Nothing too serious… I just need some help. I can't forget… them." She knew what he was talking about… the voices.

Zoë sucked in a small breath, and then replied huskily, "One minute." The door closed in his face for a second or two, then opened fully to reveal Zoë, dressed in a thin black camisole and blue panties, looking quite alluring. "Come on, I just gotta put on some clothes." She moved to the side, allowing room for Psymon to walk through the door, and then she shut it quickly behind him. He followed Zoë to the king-sized bed, where he sat down heavily on the edge, watching her dig through a few dresser drawers for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Once she had gotten dressed in the bathroom (although modesty was not really Zoë's strong point, she did possess a bit of decency, and realizing that Psymon was obviously not over Alexia, didn't try to seduce him right away), Zoë came out and sat down beside Psymon, casually draping an arm across his shoulders, and fitting her body as close to his as possible.

He turned to look at her, his face only inches from her own. Zoë shifted slightly, her nose just barely touching Psymon's, and she closed her eyes, knowing that he wouldn't let her sit there like a fool with her lips pursed. Her request was soon fulfilled, Psymon's lips pressed against her own- hard, fierce, and annoyingly enough, without an ounce of emotion. But that was not going to stop Zoë; this was what she wanted. Psymon. She let his pull her closer, until they were pressed together and falling back upon the bed, mouths slanted and open, their kiss becoming more feverish.

Stench. Rancid odors, filling his nostrils, hot breath upon his face… Psymon pulled away from Zoë, earning himself a groan from her, yet he didn't hear it. He heard, instead, a horrible sound- the shriek of a woman, a woman being tortured to no end. She howled and shrieked for mercy yet none came, and Psymon would have sworn he could taste the odorous scent upon his tongue, making him gag and sit up, grabbing at his mouth to keep down the bile. He didn't know where he was, what he was doing there, or why there was a woman laying beside him, calling out a name he didn't recognize, all the while grabbing his face.

He looked into the woman's eyes, saw her concern, and didn't see anything more. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, showing only the whites; his body went limp, his head lolled back at an uncomfortable angle. But no one knew except for the woman. No one knew except for Zoë.

***

Alexia flopped over in her bed, trying to keep the sunlight from reaching her eyes. She wanted to sleep, to stay in her bed for ages, to never wake up for fear that she might have to face that which she felt she couldn't. Life. The world's supreme bitch. Sitting up, she thought back to the past year and its events, of her stalker Zack and the death of her brother Evan; she realized that she hadn't been to Evan's grave in nearly two months. Alexia pulled back the covers from the large bed and put her feet on the ground before standing up and heading into the bathroom.

After a quick shower and a small breakfast in her underwear, Alexia pulled on a pair of dark washed jeans and a black long sleeve t-shirt, army surplus combat boots and a black visor jammed over her unruly hair. She also grabbed a pair of dark-lens sunglasses and the keys to her Mustang on her way out the door. Her mouth set in a grim line, Alexia walked down to the parking garage under her apartment building, and tried to keep a low profile. There were always Tricky circuit fans prowling about, trying to catch a glimpse of her and Psymon.

Sliding onto the cool leather drivers' seat, Alexia shut the car door and started the engine, listening to it purr before putting it in gear and driving up out of the underground lot. Coming out onto a busy Vancouver street, Alexia put down the convertible top while waiting for a break in the traffic, then turned on the radio, a rock station that played obscure songs by famous artists. Halfway through a Rob Zombie song, Alexia recognized it, remembering Psymon sing the words once.

My sinister sounds
Sweep the grounds
Stillborn I lie beneath it
I throw it away
The freaks all stay
Deformed, and

Laughing, screaming!

The lyrics reminded Alexia of a time right before Psymon had been sent into Evergreen, a time before he had been taken out of her life for what was supposed to be for good. She had gone to visit him in the province penitentiary, had brought only herself, unmonitored by either Zack or Evan. Alexia vaguely remembered telling the boys that she was going to work, but she knew eventually they would most likely find out she had gone to visit Psymon Stark.

***

The place was small. Maybe only two meters by three meters, just for Psymon. He sat huddled on the bed, curled up in a tight ball. The guard had told her they heard him screaming at night, talking to himself during the day. And Alexia knew why; the nurses and doctors had told her and Evan that Psymon would most likely suffer mental disorders from the accident. But Alexia didn't believe them, because at first he had been fine… but now, he was getting worse. Finally showing signs.

Getting charged for the sexual assault charges that should have been tacked onto Zack didn't really help Psymon's disposition, and knowing that neither Alexia nor Evan hadn't tried to change anything made him even more furious. But she had come to see him anyway, hoping to see a bit of the kindnesses still within him that she had once seen before.

"Psymon?" Alexia had asked the dark cell, stepping through the gate with trust. There wasn't a bit of light in the cell, not even a small area that she could stand in. All of the light ended abruptly outside of his cell.

"Don't come in, Alexia," Psymon warned, his voice quiet in the darkness. "Don't step out of the light." His voice trembled with intense fear, and Alexia took a step closer to the direction his voice had come from.

"Psy-" Alexia was cut off by a pale hand grabbing her forearm. She gasped in surprise, was startled to feel her eyes adjusting to the dark to see a sketchy looking Psymon Stark, iron death-grip upon her arm, next to her in an instant.

"I told you. Don't step out of the light. Ever," he ordered.

"Why not?"

"They'll get you," Psymon explained. "The voices."

"What are you talking about?" Alexia was frightened by his persistency that there were voices trying to attack him, to cause bodily harm to him. He dragged her over to the barred side of the cell, and stuck his arm through the steel bars, exposing the skin to the light. Alexia was shocked, seeing it marred with bruises and scraped and cut with deep gashes. "Psymon, what are you doing to yourself?"

"It's not me," he insisted. "It's them. The voices."

"They attack you? In the dark?" Alexia asked, concerned. Psymon simply looked her in the eyes and nodded, then turned away, humming a song.

All you know,
is alone,
you see a,
Phantom Stranger!
Down you go,
all alone,
you love my,
Phantom Stranger!

"They sing that to me," he told her. "Tell me I'm a freak and that I'm deformed. That I'm alone. And I can't be alone, Lexie. I couldn't stand that. Ever." Alexia turned to Psymon, held his hands softly in her own, and moved a step closer to him.

"You'll never be alone, Psy," she swore to him in a low whisper, a husky tone. "Never." She stepped closer yet again, shifted easily, and found Psymon's arms encircling her waist, reciprocating what she felt. The touch of their lips was electrifying, producing a small spark between their bodies, a little flash of blue static light. But then Alexia realized what she was doing- kissing a madman.

And she realized that once she started, she wouldn't be able to stop.

***

The grave was the same as before, maybe a little bit weedy. As Alexia stood before it, she felt the tears coursing down her face, knowing that they weren't really for her brother. They were for the lost chances of the past, for the emotions she still felt, for the one man she truly could say she loved. Psymon Stark was that man, and Alexia stooped down to the grave, pressing her lips upon it, not knowing that all the while, there was someone waiting for her outside the cemetery gate.