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| IMPOSTER BY MARIQUA |
CHAPTER 55 |
The boy lay motionless on the floor, only a very slight, shallow breath coming from his mouth, and the left side of his face flattened against the floor's hard surface. From the interior of his mind, a presence was spiraling upward into the vortex of his consciousness, and as his dying spirit began to descend, the presence pushed past him...gaining in strength as it neared the opening into the outer world. "Out of my way!" the presence spoke out into the dark regions he was falling into, and with the force of a freight train, it zoomed by him and out into the light -- leaving the devastated spirit behind to flounder in a contained chamber.
Muscles that had sagged within the framework of his flesh began to tighten and surge with power and every nerve ending was set on fire instantaneously. The presence inhaled a breath of air as if sucking in the life force of existence for the first time, and the dull, dead eyes of the boy flashed on with electric energy charging every pore of his body. The exhilaration of birth stung him like a thousand tiny pricks of pleasure, which he wanted to exult in and enjoy to the fullest, but this sensory gratification was almost immediately crushed by his reason for coming alive.
His head lifted and turned to look back at his very first victim, and the inside of his mouth began to water with anticipation of completing his prime directive -- revenge.
Vapid, expressionless eyes looked at the face of the boy on the floor with complete awareness of what he'd done but no feeling of remorse. His son's weakness had only made him want to humiliate him more, and the alcohol had served to lessen any barriers of guilt that might have prevented this punishment. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he only saw a gradually fading image as he attempted to move away from the scene. If he could have seen clearly, he would have noticed that the terror-stricken eyes of his son had been replaced by eyes that were fearless and savage -- like a wild animal hell bent on destruction.
Nick's composure seemed to have evaporated as his long fingers raked through his hair. "As soon as it happened, I knew he was more than I had ever envisioned...every bit of rage and anger Toddy had kept inside him had been transferred into this being...this creature."
"Peter Manning," a voice called out into the dank, musty interior of the room and for a moment Peter Manning thought that someone else besides his son was there.
"You're going to pay for this," the voice mimicked in a tone not unlike that of the man who had said it first. "You're going to pay more than you ever could imagine!"
Something in the mocking quality of the voice caused Peter Manning to freeze and look hard in the direction of his son, and as his eyes picked out the familiar features, he seemed to relax within himself. Whatever it was he had heard was probably just his own mind playing tricks on him.
"...This breakdown...this reversal of everything in his life that he had fought so hard to rebuild seemed to have been triggered by the rush of accusers in this community who felt that any crime committed had to be committed by him. Even so, I don't pretend to know what particular events led him back to a nature that was so foreign and twisted.
..."Regardless of how he left this world, I'm here today to pay my respects and homage to my brother and to cherish the aspects of his soul which were just like me or any of you. He was the father of a beautiful little girl that he would have laid down his life for and there can be no question as to his overriding desire to have a strong family life since his own ties with family had been so precarious. I will remember with love and fondness all his little jibes at me...and his stalwart strength when I needed him most. I loved him...I miss him...and I like to think that the merciful God I believe in is going to finally help the spirit of a man whose demons wanted to dominate him here on earth."
Viki stepped away from the podium -- her body quivering all over -- seeking the glowing warmth of Sam's eyes. It's all I could do, Todd...but I think you would have been proud of it.
Leaning back against the hardness of his chair, John Sykes's eyes assessed the expressions of those around him. More than a few seemed to have been affected by Viki Carpenter's words, even though others continued to appear unmoved. You should run for public office, Viki Carpenter! You're a master at manipulating words. A lot of these people were buying it. Checking his watch he tried not to look as pained as he felt at having to listen to even more of what he considered to be flagrant dishonesty.
His watchful eyes had also seen Delgado standing rigidly against a pillar as if he were on duty. Still haven't found your lost sister...some FBI man! Well, unknown to you, we're doing our own little investigation of her whereabouts. Something may turn up yet...
The hotel that Tea checked into was in the heart of downtown Chicago, and she had looked up at the towering buildings all around her with a trace of nostalgia. She had grown up in the big city, and memories of the sights and sounds of an overpopulated environment had never left her. In a way, she almost felt like she had stepped back in time to those days in New York, but this time she was not in a city trying to fight for recognition. This time she was on a search.
Opening the door to her room, she set down her bags and walked over first to the large window and drew the curtains back. Before her was the most incredible view spanning out over the majestic city with a pure blue backdrop of sky that took her breath away. As she turned her head and her eyes swept over the soft elegance of the room, she lingered on the large formal-looking bed. That time...that time we were on the run and checked into a motel...I lied to you...I tricked you...
Her thoughts backtracked to another time as she continued to stare at the bed. We woke up once together in bed...you held my hand all night...you wouldn't let go...Todd...I. won't let go either...
The clock chimed from the front hallway, and the sonorous sound vibrated into the stillness -- waking up Manning's drugged mind somewhat. A sensation of dread ran over him, which he tried to dismiss, but it was still there. All he wanted to do was drag his body upstairs and sleep off the effects of the alcohol. Moving slowly toward the door, he heard something that sounded like someone moving, but immediately everything was ominously quiet again. As he stumbled a few steps forward, another noise startled him, but before he could turn, the impact of a body hit him full force across his back. -- slamming him down to the floor with almost superhuman strength.
"Where you goin'...old man?
Peter Manning tried to move his head to see his attacker, but two arms clamped down on his head in a vice-like grip which continued to tighten with each passing second.
"Wha...who...Todd?" Manning choked out the words -- feeling a hot, heavy breath on his neck.
"Todd? No...no I don't think so! You'd better guess quickly...you haven't much time old man."
In his foggy mind, Peter Manning could not grasp what exactly was happening. Someone was squeezing down on his neck with such severity that his eyes were beginning to bulge out.
"Give up? Well, I'm not going to wait around forever, Mr. Manning. You see, I've got a mission that I was sent here to do...except I'm enjoying this. I know you can identify with getting your jollies this way. It's a real rush, isn't it?"
Anger began to surface up through the depths of Peter Manning -- a rage that he suddenly could not control anything, and his voice cracked sharply as he managed to speak again. "Get the hell off of me or I'll killyou!"
A raucous cackle of laughter rang out next to his ear, and Manning shut his eyes with the pain of the loud noise.
"You'll kill me? Mr. Manning, I think you've got that all wrong..."
Sam Rappaport touched the hand of Viki Carpenter as she sat down. Awesome...simply awesome...you said it all, Viki...what can I add to this? Except...the past...
Rising from his seat, he strode toward the podium in his habitual lawyer manner, but as he looked out into the sea of faces, all the pomp and prestige that his position afforded him seemed to melt away. All he was left with was a sense of wanting to be honest with himself. That honesty had invaded his purpose more than once, and he knew the person who had instigated so much of it.
"...Uh...I had something prepared for this moment, but I'm not going to waste my breath on words that don't really mean anything. You know...I always prided myself with knowing more about Todd than most people did. I was his coach, and a friend to him in his youth, but what I didn't know about Todd could fill a book...and that would have been some story to write. In all my years in dealing with people, I've never met anyone like Todd Manning."
"...You know what? It feels great to be alive...really alive for the first time. I've got so much that I want to do in this world and you, Mr. Manning...are Number One on my list! Now...you've been a very naughty Daddy, haven't you?"
Manning latched onto the word, "Daddy" as his mind tried to come out of its haze and identify the speaker. This couldn't be his son...could it? His son was a pansy --- a spineless recreation of his mother. There was nothing in the character of this voice that seemed even close to the poor excuse for a son he had raised. This voice was inflamed and belligerent, and something else -- cruelly taunting.
"Well, you and I are going to play a little game...it's called Snuff Out Daddy. Ready to play Peter?"
"...I knew a teenage boy named Todd Manning who was withdrawn and moody. He wasn't like most boys his age. There was something so different about him. I tried to draw him out by encouraging him to get involved in sports. There were little glimpses into his personality, but he never really let anyone get to the other side of him. Still...there were clues that I should have picked up on...I don't know why to this day I didn't. One particular night that evidence was staring me right in the face..."
"I think this is an appropriate way to do this, don't you? I mean...considering your position on the floor and everything..." the voice said as if amused at his creativity.
Manning's instincts told him he was in trouble,and the suffocating, intensifying squeeze against his throat was very painfully real. Letting out a guttural howl, he tried to raise himself up and shake off the dead weight against his body.
"No, no, no, Peter...you're trapped this time...just like you trapped him. Get it? This time I call all the shots. Say...how does it feel?"
A blood-curdling fear wormed its way into the soul of Manning as the helplessness of his situation was brought home to his bewildered mind. The darkness surrounding him, and his entrapment made it impossible to see anything. One thought kept coming back to him. Who was this? Maybe he could get out of this if he could see the face belonging to the voice.
"All right...all right...but why are you hiding...why don't you show yourself?"
"Oh, don't worry, Peter," the voice was frighteningly reassuring, "...you can count on that...I'm saving that surprise for your very last moment on
earth."
