Moss On The Grass : The Blade Files

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Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The sun is just rising above the horizon, as Dover’s phone begins to ring.

“Hello?” Dover says rather sleepily into the receiver.

“It’s Natalie. Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but that’s ok. What can I do for you Natalie?” Dover asks as he stares at Tom’s naked body beside him in the bed.

“Is Tom there?”

“Yes, do you want to talk to him?”

“No,” Natalie sighs, “he doesn’t want to listen to me. That’s why I need you to talk to him.”

“Sure, what about?” Dover asks, finally waking himself up.

“I think Marshall Reed is trying to kill Davad Moss.”


“You just have to listen. I did some investigating and I had a fax sent from the hospital. It’s all about that drug Marshall’s been injecting Davad with!”

“Natalie, you’re making a really strong allegation against Marshall,” Dover interrupts.

“Well, if you would just listen to me, you’ll be in agreement with me.”

“All right, I’ll listen.”

“Ok! This drug, Fludarabine is used to treat cancer patients over a short period.”

“What’s this got to do with Davad and Marshall?” Dover asks, confused.

“I’m getting to that! The drug is meant to be taken for about a week in small doses. A large dose of this stuff can kill, and given over a long term it causes all sorts of problems that eventually end in death. Are you still there?”

“I’m still here.”

“Okay then, these are the side effects of large doses, loss of hearing, sweating, increased aggression, weakness as it attacks the nervous and immune systems, it causes headaches, dizziness, blindness, and finally coma… then death! Does any of this sound familiar to you?” Natalie asks, almost out of breath.

“Yes, it sounds too familiar. Why didn’t Tom take this seriously?”

“He wouldn’t even let me tell him, so, will you?”

“Okay, I’ll tell him now and we’ll take care of it,” Dover tells her. “Thanks for calling me, Natalie.” He hangs up the phone then shakes Tom. “Wake up Tom. You have to go save Davad”

“Save Davad! What are you talking about?” Tom asks, as he opens his eyes.

“Natalie called… Marshall is trying to kill him.”

“You’re not going to listen to that crap, are you?” Tom sighs and turns back to go back to sleep.

“Tom, she read me the fax. She had a list of side effects, all of which Davad has. It’s that drug Tom. This is serious!”

“Are you saying that Marshall Reed is trying to kill him?”

“Yes Tom. That is what I’m saying. Now get dressed and go before it’s too late.” Dover hands Tom his clothes.

Tom bursts through the front door of my house and runs up the stairs to my room, but as he enters, Marshall pulls a sheet up over my head.

“Is he…?” Tom asks, as he stops still in the doorway.

“Yes, Davad is dead.” Marshall says, as he turns to face Tom.

“You bastard! You killed him. You bastard!” Tom yells.

“Have some respect Tom, you’re in the presence of a dead man, and I don’t know what you are insinuating.”

Tom looks at the side table, where the bottle of Fludarabine has sat for the past few months. The table is now empty. “Where is it?” Tom demands angrily.

“Where is what, Tom?”

“The Fludarabine!”

“I have never heard of it, you must be mistaken.” Marshall tells him with a blank expression on his face.

“How can you do this to him, Marshall? He trusted you!”

“I don’t believe I like what you are insinuating Tom. I would never hurt Davad. I have only been helping him to get to the other side as painlessly as possible.”

“You are a bastard Marshall! I should kill you right now!”

“Then you will be a murderer, Tom. Is that what you want, because that is not what I am, and there is no proof for you to convince anyone otherwise.” Marshall sits on the end of the bed. “The car is coming to pick up Davad’s body, so you might want to leave.”

“You bastard!” Tom repeats once more, before walking out the room.

Waves crash into the rocks, as Tom sits behind the wheel of his Porsche, staring blankly out across the ocean, as if in a daze and tears roll uncontrollably down his cheeks, as he revs the engine. The revving engine drowns out the music at intervals, until Tom finally turns the engine off, lowering his head onto the steering wheel, letting his emotions take control.

A ‘Banners’ CD is playing at full volume, blaring out of the speakers in the rear of the Porsche. Tom lifts his head, as a soft melody begins to play. It is the melody of a rather sad song that Tom has always liked to listen to, when depressed, and now, as the greatest depression of all surrounds him, he lets the words to, ‘what’s the point in living now!’ heighten his sorrow.

“What’s the point in living now you’ve gone away, I can’t stand to be without you for one more day. You have been my inspiration all my life, kept on loving me no matter what I did.”

One day without me would be like living death itself. Without me, he is nothing! He is not capable of anything. Tom stares out across the ocean. How could something such as this happen? He had left me alone so many times over the past few months; yet, I took him back with open arms, not even questioning why he left, or what he had done in that time away from me. It is as though he is only now able to realise just how much I truly did love him, and now is too late, far too late.

“Now as I sit alone without you, I know I can’t live without you, got to have you by my side again. I need you in this world till the end.”

Alone, heartbroken, devastated and suicidal, that’s how he feels right now. He feels as though he wants to lash out at everyone else in the world, and yet, he knows that will not do him any good. If only he could bring me back, so that I could be sitting beside him right now. Then I would not allow him to have these thoughts. I would tell him to let go of his painful thoughts and emotions, and if he could not let them go, I would take them away for him. How he wished I were there because he needed me right now, and forever.

“Life’s so dark and clouded now you’re gone. I don’t think that I can go on, on my own. You always cheered me up when I was sad and blue, now without you I just don’t know what I should do.”

He can no longer think straight. His mind has become very dark and clouded and he wonders if that is how it was for me. Was my mind so clouded with that drug that I could not cry for help? Not that it really matters now as the only thing that matters now, is the fact that he cannot function without me. He needs my strength and all the support I gave to him. I am the only person who could get him through these hectic days, but now I am gone, no longer a part of his life and he doesn’t know if he can deal with this world on his own. It is far too great a place to be inhabited by one.

“I said what’s the point in living now, if you’re not there to show me how. I just don’t know what to do and I don’t want to be without you!”

It’s like the whole world is coming to an end. It may seem to be going on like normal, but it is not. The world stopped this morning when a large piece of it broke away and drifted off to some faraway place that he is unable to see, a place that he cannot even dream of, yet, it is a place that he is able to go to, if he should choose. He could go there, and then he would be with me, for eternity.

“I can never look into your eyes, so I sit alone and cry. I need you and I know why. I can’t believe you’d go away and die!”

The importance I had to his existence should have dawned on him years ago, not now, not when he can no longer stare into my beautiful brown eyes. Now that it is no longer possible, he can do no more than just sit by the ocean, allowing himself to cry, as his heart aches for me. How could I leave him like this? Why would I ever be so selfish, allowing myself to die, just to leave him like this, all alone and afraid for what he may do?

“Now I sit alone and blue, remembering times I had with you, thinking I know what to do. Maybe I should come and join you too!”

Memories of me flood his mind. The night we rode on the beach, from here to eternity, making love under the stars. That had been the highlight of our relationship, and now it seems like a lifetime ago. It is as though his happiest moments were spent with me and nothing else could ever compare with the times we had. He only wished that they had not ended this way, this can’t possibly be the end of it all. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of a new existence for us as he could turn the engine on, rev it up, drive over the cliff and perish in an amazing ball of fire as his Porsche collides with the rocks below. Then maybe we will be together once more.

“So what’s the point in living now you’ve gone from me, I can never be as happy as you made me feel. You were my inspiration. I can’t do anything now. That’s why I think, what’s the point in living now!”

Maybe joining me is the only answer, Tom thinks, as he revs the engine once more and he looks out at the ocean watching sea gulls fly across the water.

“Davad!” Tom screams to the top of his lungs, as he turns the engine off and picks up his mobile phone.

“Natalie, Davad is dead!” Tom feels his entire body begin to shake.

“Oh my god! Tom, where are you?”

“In my car,” he tells her, as the tears roll down his cheeks.

“Do you want me to come get you?”

“Yes Natalie, I need you,” he takes several deep breaths.

“All right, where are you?”

“In my car.” Tom repeats.

“Where’s your car, Tom?”

“I don’t know.” He begins to hyperventilate.

“Tom, try to calm down, you need to tell me where you are.”

“I…I…I don’t know!”

“Tom, you have to try,” Natalie tells him, as she feels tears come to her own eyes. “Are you still there, Tom?”

“I don’t know where I am Natalie!”

“Ok, I’m going to call Dover, he’ll come find you!” Natalie hangs up and Tom sits staring out at the ocean, listening to the tone in his phone, for what seems like hours, before he places the phone on the seat beside him.

“Davad!” Tom calls, as his phone begins to ring. He stares at the phone, allowing it to ring several times before he picks it up. “Yes,” Tom says glumly into the receiver.

“Tom, its Dover. Natalie called me. How are you?”

“As great as anyone who’s contemplating death!”

“What are you talking about Tom?”

“I can’t handle this.”

“Where are you?” Dover asks, becoming worried.

“I don’t know!” Tom tells him, as he had told Natalie.

“Okay, Tom,. Take a look around and tell me what you see. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure!” Tom agrees, reluctantly looking at the surroundings.

“What do you see?”

“Cliffs and the ocean.”

“What side are the cliffs on?”

“My left!”

“What about the ocean?”

“It’s in front of me, and on my right,” Tom tells him as he stares at the ocean.

“All right Tom, now here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to talk to me while I drive to get you, okay?”

“Okay,” Tom agrees.

“What happened when you got to Davad’s house?”

“Marshall was there,” Tom says, then takes a deep breath, “he pulled the sheet over him.”

“Shit! What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I just got out of there and I drove and drove, until I got to this place, and it looked like a good idea.”

“What do you mean it looked like a good idea?”

“I thought that I could just drive off and be with him,” Tom admits.

“You were going to kill yourself?”


“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Tom begins to sob.

“Tom, are you ok?” Dover asks, concerned.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know!”

“Well, you’re okay now,” Dover tells him.

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are,” Dover promises, as he opens the door to Tom’s Porsche.

Tom looks at Dover standing next to him, holding his mobile phone and Dover smiles then extends his hand for Tom.

“You’ll be fine!” Dover smiles. “I’m going to take you home.”

“Can we go to your house?”

“Sure,” Dover agrees, as he opens the door to his limousine and Tom climbs in.

A strange light surrounds me, the purest of white, as silhouettes approach, reaching out for me, lifting me up, and carrying me away in their arms. There is no feeling, no sensation at all. I cannot feel their touch, cannot focus on their faces but they are nothing but blurs of white and I try to speak, but no words can be spoken. I am motionless, hopeless, and vulnerable to their power.

I seem to be floating along a great passageway, floating in their arms, surrounded by nothing but white. There is no end to the white, nothing to distinguish where this passageway may lead me. I try to focus once more on the faces of the white silhouettes, and can just make out the movement of their mouths, yet, I cannot hear their words and it is though they are real, yet they are not. Perhaps I have not reached their plateau; perhaps they are just spirits, or even angels here to carry me into the netherworld.

As they support me, allowing me to float along weightlessly, I continue to try to see them. I want to know them, want to become a part of their white essence, as they are like nothing I have seen before, a picture of beauty. They are the first vision I have had in such a long time, my only memory and I cannot think of anything but them. There is no other thought.

I begin to feel my first sensation, as they lower my body, placing me on a soft surface. Almost like a cushion. The pure white still surrounds me, still bright, too bright to be able to focus on anything. I feel my body quiver, as a strange hand takes hold of my arm. The hand is cold, ice cold, like the hands of some kind of monster, a monster that has touched me before, in my nightmarish hours.

The hand continues to hold me, as a sharp pain stings my upper left arm. It feels as though my blood has frozen, as something strange runs up my arm, up to my left shoulder then slowly spreads throughout my entire being.

My eyes are becoming heavy and forcing their way closed. I fight to keep my eyes on the silhouettes and the light, which has finally been bestowed on me. I try to focus on the silhouettes, but they are fading, drifting away to some faraway place and darkness is slowly returning, creeping back into my mind, as the light fades.

Tom lays his head back on the seat and brushes down his black suit as the limousine approaches the gates to my estate.

“You’re kidding,” Dover says, as he looks out the window.

“What?” Tom asks, looking out towards the gates.

The road outside my estate resembles a disaster area. Vans are lined down the entire block and the media surrounds the gate.

“Vultures!” Tom says, as he lays his head back on the seat and closes his eyes.

The limousine passes through the gates, beginning a slow drive up to the house.

“Look at this,” Dover says, tapping Tom on the knee.

Tom opens his eyes to stare out at the driveway. The driveway is not white, like it normally is, on the contrary, today the driveway is red. Rose petals have been scattered over the entire length of the drive, with rose bushes lined along the sides.

Tom smiles as the limousine comes to a halt beside the rows of vehicles that have already arrived. As he steps out of the car, he is overwhelmed by the scent of roses in the air. There is no other smell, nothing but roses.

Dover takes hold of Tom’s arm. “Are you ready?” He asks, with a smile.

Tom nods his head and as they walk up the stairs to the open entrance, they can hear ‘Yesterday’ playing over the sound system. Tears begin to fall down Tom’s cheeks and he stops still, taking a few deep breaths, filling his lungs with the scent of roses.

“Are you all right, Tom?” Dover asks, placing an arm around Tom’s shoulders.

“I’m fine. It’s just the roses and the song,” Tom tells him, as he stares at the hallway, which is also lined with roses.

“Were those his wishes?”

“Yes, he always loved my rose garden, and our song. I just wish he had chosen a chapel for the funeral.”

“Maybe he just wanted to feel at home,” Dover says, squeezing Tom’s shoulder.

“I’ll be ok,” Tom tells him and tries to smile as he begins to walk along the rose covered hallway, towards the private function room, which is being used for the first time, today.

Tom takes a few more deep breaths as he reaches the door to the room, and then enters. The room is already filled with familiar faces that turn to look at Tom as he enters. Tom stares into their eyes as he walks to the front of the room, stopping once he has reached the empty seat at the front where Natalie awaits him and he feels more tears fall down his cheek, as he takes the seat beside her.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of a wonderful man, Davad Moss. Davad has in his generous lifetime done so many kind things for everyone present here today,” the priest begins, and then looks towards Tom. “I will not be conducting a normal service here today. I will be instead, handing things over to Tom Blade, who wishes to give a eulogy.”

Tom stands and wipes the tears from his eyes, while slowly walking to the microphone. As he walks, he stares at the closed coffin before him and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the room.

“Davad Moss lived a rather secluded life. Most of you probably never actually met Davad in person. That’s not to say that you never knew him, it just means that you never had the privilege of knowing how beautiful he truly was. I, along with Davad’s small group of close friends, knew him better than anyone. He was truly a generous soul. He would give assistance to anyone who asked for it and he would never allow anyone he cared for, to be in pain. We are here today because we all cared for Davad, as much as he cared for us, yet, today is a sad day for two reasons. The first being that Davad’s life was tragically cut short, and the second being that from all of us that are here today, only four bothered to come to see Davad, when he was ill. No one in this room was present when Davad passed away, not even myself, so it seems rather hypercritical that we are here today, pretending that we care. We should all take a hard look at ourselves and realise that we are selfish. We were selfish towards the most generous man whom we will ever know and now he is gone, and there is no way for us to redeem ourselves. There are so many things that people never knew about Davad. So many secrets that he never shared. I’m not going to share them now, as I don’t think Davad would want that, but, there is one passion of Davad’s that I will share, and that is the roses. All of you have probably been wondering why there are so many rose petals and bushes here today. Well, they’re not here just because they look and smell good. Davad had a fascination with roses, and not just any roses. Davad’s fascination was with a certain rose garden, in which he loved to sit. It was a place of solitude for him, a place where he could let his emotions run free. That rose garden is on my own property, it is a garden that Natalie, Davad and I, nurtured together, and now that garden, like Davad, is no more. The roses here today, come from that very garden, as it was Davad’s last wish and I never knew why it was so important to him, but as I stand here today, I know. Those roses received more love than most people experience in their lifetime, and that is how Davad lived. He received a great deal of love from those around him. However, like the rose garden, he now will return to the earth, to be nurtured once more.” Tom stops, putting his hand out for Natalie.

Natalie walks to the microphone, holding two roses in her hands. Tom takes one of the roses from her and holds her hand, as they walk to the coffin and place the two roses in a cross on top. Tom stares at the roses for a moment, then turns around, walks back to the microphone, standing silent as tears fall down his cheeks. “Davad Moss has left us. I ask all of you to please stand and listen to Davad’s favourite song one more time.” The music to ‘Yesterday’ begins to play once more.

A cool breeze caresses my skin as I walk along the soft white sand. I am walking alone in the night. There is no sound, except for the waves crashing onto the shore and as I look at those waves my heart begins to pound like thunder. The waves are not blue, as they should be; instead, they are red, blood red.

I slowly walk towards the waves, reaching down, scooping the water up into my cupped hands. It is still red and thick. I have blood in my hands, shiny red blood, which drips down my arms, staining my white clothing.

The sound of the crashing waves has ceased, replaced by laughter, demented laughter, which echoes throughout my mind. I cannot take it any longer and I feel the overwhelming urgency to escape to some place where it cannot find me. I find myself running into the blood red sea, diving into its mists, drowning in its thick murky depths.

I stand and as I realise that the laughter has gone, I look down to the liquid that comes up to my waist and it is as clear the water in a stream and I can smell smoke in the distance, as I raise my eyes to look up at the burning cottage. Two silhouettes are visible amongst the flames, and a scream pierces my ears. I know I have been here before.

I run out of the stream and towards the burning cottage. The screams continue as I focus on the beautiful girl whose white gown flows in the breeze as the black silhouette of a man throws her to the ground. He is on top of her, taking her against her will. I try to run faster, trying to save her, but it is of no use, as the cottage remains the same distance from me. I cannot get there, cannot save her. The monster has taken her within his grasp and her screams have ceased. My body collapses beneath me, and I begin to fall through the earth below. The world below is dark and there is nothing below but sorrow. Nothing.

Andy Grimes, Monty Stephens, Joseph Elder, Marshall Reed and Natalie, are all seated in the lawyer’s office, as Tom and Dover enter and take their seats.

“Shall we commence?” The lawyer asks, looking directly at Tom.

“Go ahead,” Tom tells him, placing an arm around Dover’s shoulder.

“Ok, you have all been called here today for the reading of David Moss’s will,” the lawyer begins.

“Excuse me!” Tom says, standing up. “If you are going to say his name, you can at least get it right. It’s DAVAD!” Tom tells him, annoyed with his obvious incompetence.

“Ok, we are here for the reading of Davad Moss’s will,” the lawyer, repeats, this time using the correct pronounciation. “I am James Reece, Davad’s lawyer. Davad has instructed me to play a tape for all of you.” James stands and walks across the room to where a television and video are set up and he presses the play button on the video. Tom sits forward as the tape begins to play. I am on the tape, wearing sunglasses, to hide my blind eyes, and smiling rather uncannily, considering the circumstances.

“I guess you are all waiting for me to say something,” I say through my grin. “Well first of all, Tom, I do not want you to miss me. Please do not mourn for me. I want you to get on with your life, without me, because I am happy where I am, underground, and the Moss is already settling on the grass, so please do not be sad Tom. Now! You will probably all feel as though I have wasted your time and for that I am deeply sorry, because the will is not going to be read today. This is just the preliminary. As you know, I do not like to be like everyone else. Therefore, I have asked you all here today, just to tell you that you will have to come back two years to this exact date, then and only then, will my lawyer James Reece read my true will. Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules. I will see you all in two years, especially you, Tom.” The tape goes blank.

“Is this for real?” Marshall asks, shocked.

“Yes it is. I will see each of you in my office, two years to this date,” James tells them.

Tom stands, looks at Natalie then walks out of the office, with his arm around Dover’s waist.

The crying mother sits before me, tears falling in streams down her rosy pink cheeks. She is a magnificent creature whose tears touch my soul as she begs my forgiveness. My forgiveness! Why would she need my forgiveness? Has she done something unkind to me? I do not know, yet, she continues to beg that I forgive her for bringing such a child into this world.

Then it is before me, a child, a child standing in an alleyway. He is looking into my eyes, staring right into me, calling my name, then clutching onto me, as tears fall from his eyes. I stare into his eyes, which are childlike, yet they are not. His eyes tell many tales of death, destruction, slayings, and fear. He is not truly a child who resembles a young Tom, rather, he is, a strange soul, lost within this child’s mortal body.

As the child fades from my mind, I stand in a dark room and I am not alone. I am surrounded by a strange presence and the feeling that I am being watched, perhaps examined closely. I feel hands upon me and I turn to see the hands, or those who they belong to, yet, there is nothing there, but a dark room. Total blackness and I am once again in the sea of nothingness, perhaps not even in a room, perhaps it is all just an illusion or just another one of my minds tricks. Yet, is feels real, as though I have experienced it before, perhaps in another time, another place, or even another life.

A red glow fills the far corner of the room, and from the midst of the glow, comes the black silhouette, with bright red eyes, staring right into my own. My eyes begin to burn from its power and I can no longer look into those red eyes. Yet, the martyr will not allow me to turn away. Strange hands run over my body, feeling every inch of me with their painful touch. They touch and push, as though they are searching for something, then, as though they have become angry for not finding whatever it was that they sought, they throw me to the ground and I begin to fall towards some grey place. I watch as it comes closer, until I finally land with a thud onto cobblestones! I run my hand across their cold surface, then stand, to find myself in a very old cemetery. Mist slowly drifts across the night, as my legs begin to walk, as if on their own, taking me to some unknown destination.

I can smell the scent of roses in the air. It is a strong scent, almost intoxicating and I breathe in their scent, as my legs take control of me then suddenly stop. I look down at the head stone before me, and kneel down to brush away the roses that grow along its cold surface. As I move the roses, I feel a shiver run down my spine and I stare at the name on the headstone. Davad Moss. My body freezes, as I stare at my own grave. I cannot breath and can no longer smell the roses. I feel my body begin to sink and I try to move, to run away, but I cannot move, I can do nothing at all to prevent my body from sinking into the earth, until the grave has consumed me.

The pure white has returned, along with the white silhouettes. They stand above me, as if to hold me down, as I feel the strange cold hand take hold of my arm once more. Then comes the sting and the blood freezes throughout my body. This time I do not fight, as my eyes grow heavy and I let them close with ease.

Tom stretches out on the sand beside me, staring up at the stars above. I lean over to kiss him gently on the lips. “I love you,” I tell him, with a smile.

“I love you too, Davad,” he tells me, then points to the sky, “look a shooting star.”

“That is you, Tom.” I say and kiss him again.

A strange sound echoes through the night, a scream and the smell of smoke. I turn to look at the cliffs but they are not there, they have been replaced by the burning cottage and the black silhouette that stands over the screaming girl.

I begin to stand in an attempt to help her, but Tom pulls me back down.

“Don’t go, Davad,” he pleads and begins to kiss me.

“I have to help her,” I tell him, as I pull away.

“Davad, he knows what he is doing. Let it be! It must happen,” Tom says as he drags me back to the sand.

I turn to face him, only to be confronted by the martyr’s red eyes. Tom is no longer there; instead, it is he, the one who haunts me at night and as I stare into his eyes, he pulls me close and unbuttons my white shirt. I try to move, but cannot. I am frozen once more. He continues to undress me, until I lay naked on the sand beside him and I can do nothing, but stare into his red eyes, trying to focus on his face. For one fleeting second I see the man beyond the martyr’s eyes and he is beautiful, surrounded by a strange white glow, his eyes are not red at all, they are the bluest of blue, and his hair, blonde. I suddenly feel drawn to him, drawn to his beauty. I have never seen such a beautiful creature before. He is such as an angel, a glorious angel, hiding behind the black silhouette, hiding behind red burning eyes within the night.

I open my eyes onto the pure white once more, yet, this time it is not so white. It is not even blurred. There are no silhouettes, just myself, sitting on the floor, in a white padded room, trapped in a straight jacket. Is this yet another nightmare, another demented lie? I try to move, to free myself from the jacket, but it is no use. All I can do is stand and walk in circles around the room, searching for a way out. There obviously is no way out.

I find myself sliding down the padded wall, back onto the padded floor, my back to a corner, wondering if I am going crazy. There is nothing that I can do, except to perhaps bide my time in song, to stop myself from losing my mind. I search my memory, searching for the words to any song, and there is only one song that comes to my mind, one that I would prefer not to sing, and yet, I know that I need to sing it. It is a ‘Blood n Fire’ song, called ‘Purely crazed’ and the words float easily to my mind.

“I’m in a corner I can’t get out, take my warning don’t turn around.”

Perhaps if I had not turned around during that nightmare I had some time ago, the one on the beach, I would not be in this corner right now.

“You got to, you got to take on my warning, give something back, take my religion, ain’t nothing gonna bring me back.”

Is this the punishment I must suffer at the hands of the martyr? Is this my penance for gazing upon his face? Is this the nightmare in which I am trapped for all eternity?

“Look into my eyes, you will see a light, if the flame goes out will I die tonight. Take on my, take on my, take on my warning, the walls are coming down, we’re just left in corners and we can’t get out.”

I should never have looked past the red eyes; I had no right to look past them, yet I know that I could not have done so unless it was he who allowed me the privilege of his beauty. Now, it is he who has chosen this destiny for me and he is more relentless than I could have imagined. He truly is a bastard!

“Do you know the way out of this maze or are you just thinking that I am purely crazed. This is my warning, this is the time, and this is the only place where corners fill my mind.”

Now I am asking you, you bastard, to let me out of this demented maze of yours. I do not wish to play your game anymore. I am not crazy and I know that it is you, who has brought me to this place, but I will no longer be a part of it, I refuse to be left in this corner to die!

“I’m in a corner I can’t get out, take on my warning, don’t shut me out.”

I am warning you! You will release me from your grasp, you will, I tell you, or I shall speak your name.

“Won’t you, won’t you just take on my warning, take it on tonight, take all of my possessions, I ain’t coming back tonight. Take on my, take on my, take on my warning, the walls are down, no one seems to give a damn that I can’t get out. Take on my, take on my, take on my warning, the walls have hit the ground.”

Do you truly despise me this much? Am I so vulgar to you? I have given up all that I have known for you, and this is how you repay me. Let me out of this place! I am begging you. Do not shut me out, you bastard, or I swear I will speak your name. You do not believe that I know it! Well, I can tell you that I do. I know your name and I do not fear you! Your name is…

As Tom and Dover take their seats in James Reece’s office, two police officers shut the doors. Tom stares at James Reece; he is a rather elderly man, with grey hair. He sits behind his desk in his black pressed suit, and beside him sits another man who was not present two years ago at the last reading. He is also an elderly man, however, he wears a rather expensive suit, perhaps an Armani.

James Reece stands, looking into their faces. They are all present, Monty, Andy, Joseph, Marshall, Natalie, and Tom and Dover, who arrived last, just as they had the previous time.

“Why don’t we get right to it,” James says handing the videotape to the man beside him. “This is my assistant George. He will put the tape on for you,” James adds as George walks over to the video.

“Since when does the assistant wear the better suit?” Tom whispers to Dover, as George presses play on the video.

Tom stares at the television as my image appears. There is something strange about this tape. I am no longer wearing sunglasses and do not possess a beard. Tom looks at Dover, who shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, I’ll just get right into this, after all, you have all waited so long. Natalie, Tom, Dover, Joseph, Andy and Monty. To all the above, I leave nothing but my love. To Marshall Reed, I hope you rot in hell you son of a bitch!”

George presses stop.

“What’s going on?” Marshall protests as the two police officers begin to place him into handcuffs.

“I will tell you what is going on,” George says, as he peels away a latex mask to reveal Davad Moss’s face. My face.

Tom stands and stares at the once lawyer’s assistant before he walks out the room, with Dover following closely behind.

“You are going to pay for what you did to me, Marshall!” I tell him. “Get him out of here!” I watch the police officers escort Marshall from the room, then sit down next to Natalie. “Got any questions?” I ask her with a smile.

“Yes Davad, what happened?” Natalie asks, as she gives me a hug.

“Okay,” I say, as I stand up, “it is a very long story, but basically, I am back and you all no longer get whatever I left you. I have to go talk to Tom. I will talk with you all later,” I tell them as I walk to the door.

Tom is standing against Dover’s limousine, perhaps waiting for me, or perhaps he just needs some air. I walk up to him regardless. “Can we talk?” I ask, as I stop in front of him.

“Sure,” he reluctantly agrees.

“I know you are probably wondering why, if I am alive, I have left it until now to reveal that fact.”

“I may have been wondering that!”

“Well I could not possibly have revealed it before now. If I had, Marshall would have fled. I have been here for about three months now.”

“Three months?” Tom asks, shocked.

“Yes, but like I said, I could not let anyone know.”

“What about before that, Davad?”

“I was locked away in a hospital in France. They had me drugged and in a straight jacket, I thought I was going crazy Tom, and all I could think about was you. I just wanted to get back home to you, even when I was drugged and starving from lack of food, I could only think of you. Can you forgive me Tom? I need you back in my life.”

Tom wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly as tears fall down his cheeks. “I thought you were dead Davad,” he tells me between sobs, “I truly thought you were dead!”

“You are not the only one,” I tell him as I lift his head and wipe his tears. “I want to leave it up to you, Tom. You decide how you want things to be now that I am back.”

Tom wipes the rest of the tears from his eyes. “I don’t think we should rush anything Davad, I mean you’ve obviously been through a traumatic ordeal. I want to give you time to get your life back in order. I also need time to deal with this whole thing,” he pauses. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t love you Davad. I care dearly for you. I just think we should start off as friends this time around, instead of rushing things.”

“I understand,” I tell him then open the limousine door for him, “you better not keep Dover waiting,” I add, and as I watch Dover’s limousine disappear down the road and out of sight, I know that just like moss on the grass, Tom will return.


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