“Indelible”

John had never been able to convey the indelible impressions the visions left behind. More than pictures, conversations, or events, they swelled and ebbed like a tide inside of him. Anger, sorrow, occasionally joy, washing over all the barriers he struggled to erect.

He had experienced the mind of a psychotic, a lonely, troubled heart, and a panicked thief. He had felt rage spawned by revenge and unleashed his fury upon a helpless and ultimately innocent man.

This was different. This time the killer was a father and the victim his child. The thought chilled and sickened. He could hardly breath. How could anyone be so cruel, so blind? The incongruities blurred in wavy lines of disbelief until he thought he might retch. This was more than a clue, a hint of reality, this impression gouged a mark In his soul. He felt weak and spiritless in its wake. As if he had become and not merely channeled the man responsible.

Was he wrong? He could hope, even pray, but for now there was the roar of surging blood and the incessant pounding behind his bleary eyes. The headache a physical manifestation of an impression of horror drawn from beauty.