Mark arrived back at his home. He couldn't get the thought out of his mind. What has he done. Stressing Mark flung himself onto his bed, attempting to get some rest while he can.
'What if she wakes up and remembers his face.' Mark's mind conjured up every outcome, not a single one was good. He checks his phone, 17:21. Two and a half hours until he meets up with his friends at the pub. Closing his eyes, Mark tried to push the thoughts to the back of his head.
'What have I done..'
"I know what you've done."
Startled, Mark opened his eyes only to find himself staring at a cloudless blue sky. He was in that place again.
"Welcome back Mark, we have a lot to discuss."
He could feel the grass brushing against his face, he didn't want to stand.
"I'll say it again Mark, I know what you've done, and I understand."
"Understand what." Mark reluctantly rose to his feet with an annoyed expression spreading across his face. "I don't think you understand any of what I've just done. If you had, you wouldn't be so willing to say, 'I understand'. "
Tom sighed and cleared his throat, "I hope you will learn to understand that I have been through this situation you find yourself in. Since I live in your head, I experience everything you do as if I am stood next to you."
"If you know what I've done then how.. How can you be so understanding?" Mark tensed. "I beat up an innocent woman. Were you not watching then or something!?"
"Was she innocent through your eyes?"
"The fuck did you say.. What is that supposed to mean?" Mark began to get furious.
"I saw what you saw Mark. She wasn't innocent, at least not through your eyes."
Mark, still confused, unclenched his hand.
"You are very quick to anger aren't you. I didn't think that of you when we first met. Maybe your true colours are beginning to show."
"Ok, thanks Tom, and about that girl, when you say 'did she look innocent' are you talking about my hallucinations. I've been having them ever since, you know, and they have been quite regular."
"That is exactly what I was talking about. These 'hallucinations' as you call them are signs of you having the gift of the Sleepwalker. Well I say gift, it's definitely more of a curse. From my knowledge, I know them as 'symptoms', the closer you get to Judgement the more vivid they will become. I'm sorry it had to be you, well it had to be someone, you just happened to get unlucky."
"This is a lot." Mark said, staring up into the sky. "What is Judgment, what is a Sleepwalker, what is this place. This can't be real."
Tom slapped him.
"Oww.. What the fuck?!" Mark held his throbbing cheek.
"You see.. If this was a dream you would've woken. Again I'm sorry Mark, it just had to be someone. Oh and about Judgement.." Tom took a deep breath. "That is something that will have to wait, I'm sure that they will explain it to you."
"When you say them.. Are you talking about those 'beings' you were on about before?"
"Yes." Tom appeared to be stressed and was wiping sweat from his forehead. "Again, Judgement is a matter which will wait, I just don't want to be the one to tell you."
A sudden wash of fear struck Mark like a speeding train. He had a bad feeling about all of this.
"Oh yeah, Tom... Tom?"
The old man was staring into the distance, a tear rolled down his face. "Yeah?" He replied not breaking eye contact with the horizon.
"Why did I feel like that hallucina- sorry symptom I had to be so familiar? It was as if I had seen that dancer before."
"That's because you have. You cannot make up a person in your dreams, it's the same with these symptoms. They play with your emotions, show you things from your dearest, darkest and long forgotten memories. You will have seen her before, at some point."
Mark tried to search through his memories, attempting to find that mystery woman.
"Wait.. No... It can't be her." Mark's face turned pale. "I thought I had left her behind."
"So you remember her?" Tom replies, intriguingly.
"Yeah.. As a kid I she would freak me the hell out. It was before I moved to England, when I lived in Japan, there was this show my mum and dad used to take me to." Mark scratched his forehead. "She was always the last dancer, she was usually surrounded by what appeared to be floating lanterns. Her mask used to give me nightmares. I thought I would never see her again when we moved."
Still staring at the horizon Tom asks, "There was another person there, a man on the floor."
Mark takes a deep breath. "That.. That was my father."
Tom sighs, "I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
2 hours passed, Mark had attempted to dress for the occasion. He wore navy-blue jeans, a white polo shirt with a black and yellow striped tie which hung low from his collar. Opening his door he felt a gust of cold air wash over his body. The car honks, sound of youths enjoying their best lives usually clouded Mark's thoughts. He hated those noises, but not today. Today he felt as if life was better. This confused Mark, especially after everything he had just gone through. The Far Field, Tom and these 'things' the old man spoke of. However, tonight Mark decided to try and forget all of that for the time being and just enjoy being with his friends.
Mark arrived at the 'Pale Mare', warm light poured out of the front door's window. Upon entry, he walked up to the bar where Darren was facing the wall, cleaning a glass.
"Hey, Darren.." Mark's voice was nullified by the blasting music escaping the jukebox.
"Umm.. Darren!" Mark raise his voice, the jukebox still silenced him.
'Seriously.' He thought to himself as he climbed up onto the counter and tapped Darren on the shoulder.
Darren spun around, "Ohh, hi Mark!"
Mark waved awkwardly as he clambered back down from the counter.
"Sorry if you were calling me, I couldn't hear you. Could've rung the bell you know."
"Nah, it's fine Darren."
"Alright, you just go and get sat down I'll join you in a sec," Darren pointed over to a table, "That's where Carmen's sat, go and keep her company for me until I get there alright!" Darren winked. "Oh and Mark what would you like?"
"I'll just have a water thanks."
"Ok then.." Darren turned to go and talk to another bartender.
Mark turned and walked over to the table where Carmen was sat, staring at her phone with her hood up.
He sat down opposite her.
"Hi Carmen.."
No response.
"I see you got her early you must've really wanted to see us badly huh."
"Shut up." Carmen put her phone away in her pocket and brought her hood down. "I just like sitting in this pub.. That's why I'm early."
"Ahh, yes of course, you would never be early to see your friends." Mark said sarcastically, receiving an annoyed look from Carmen in response.
Resting his hands on the table, he noticed that man from earlier. 'Will Roberts! That was his name.' Mark thought as he waved to him, catching his attention.
Will walked over to the table.
"Hi Mark.. and umm.."
"Carmen" She responded, not looking in his direction.
"Hi Carmen, do you mind.." Will sat down next to Mark who budged up the bench accordingly. Smiling.
Darren wandered over to the table. Carrying a water, a Guinness and a coke.
"Oh hello mate." Darren looked over to Will as he handed Mark his water and Carmen a Guinness. "I haven't seen you around, what's your name?"
"Will."
"Nice." Darren sat down next to Carmen, who didn't budge up, leaving him sat on the edge of the bench. "You new around here I take it?" Darren said taking a swig of his coke.
"Yeah I moved from London after I got a job offer all the way over here in Veilham."
"What job could be worth moving here." Darren said jokingly.
"I'm an accountant, it's quite boring actually, but the bills won't pay themselves. heh..." Will chuckled. Awkward silence followed.
"Anyway.. If your interested, me and Mark have known each other since he came to England in what.. Year 6?"
"Year 6." Mark replied.
"And, this shy girl is Carmen.."
"Oi shut the fuck up Darren." Carmen spoke sharply.
"Are you blushing Carmen." Darren burst into laughter.
Mark smiled. Usually his cases were his whole life but now, now he at least had something else.
"Am I blushing." Carmen laughed. "Why would I be blushing." She continued laughing, definitely having had a few too many beers tonight.
"Alright.. Sorry fuckin' hell." Darren whispered across the table to Will. "This is what she does when she's around someone she likes."
"Are you fucking kidding me." Carmen spoke in a calm yet stern tone.
"Alright I'm sorry no more of that talk from me-" Darren looked out the window.
The night was dark, he peered through the dusty window...
"What the fuck.." He shot up out of his seat running out the front of the pub.
"What.." Mark said, but it was too late, Darren was already out the front door. Mark peered through the window and noticed a group of guys, maybe mid twenty's to thirty's with a gir-
"What the fuck!" Mark also shot up out of his seat.
Carmen followed leaving Will to reluctantly follow.
Outside, the pub was freezing cold. Fog hung low through the streets. Every so often a car light could be seen through the thick mist. Mark joined Darren with Carmen and Will joining after him.
The sound of distant laughter and traffic mixed with the low hum of the streetlights.
Across the street, under the flickering light of a lamppost, three men were crowded around someone, who was sprawled out on the floor. Their voices were low, cruel, drunk with power. One of them shoved the figure down again when she tried to stand.
It was a woman. Her short, jet black hair was wet with sweat. Black makeup was streaking down her pale face. Screaming for help, she attempted to rip their filthy hands off her body but to no avail.
Mark felt his chest tighten.
"What the fuck are they doing?" Darren spoke with hatred in his tone.
Before anyone could answer, he was already sprinting across the road.
"Darren!" Carmen shouted, but it was useless.
The men turned as he reached them. One sneered, stumbling slightly. "Oi cunt, back the fuck off, this isn't your business." He said while drunkenly waving a bottle of Budweiser at Darren.
Darren didn't respond. His fist connected with the man's jaw, the crack echoing down the street. The drunk man fell, his head smashing against the pavement sending blood spraying across the cobbles.
The bottle flew out of his hand and smashed on landed on the pavement.
"Hey what the fuck are you doing." One of the men shouted, letting go of the girl.
The others lunged at him. One grabbed Darren by the throat and dragged him down, slamming him against the curb. The other swung his legs wildly, kicking him in the ribs. Mark froze for a moment watching his friend pinned, helpless. The woman had crawled backwards, pressing herself against the lamppost, panting, eyes wide with terror.
"Darren!" Carmen shouted, running forward. Her hand brushed against something cold on the ground, a broken glass bottle dropped by one of the men. She didn't think. She just reacted. Swinging the broken bottle at the head of the man pinning down Darren. The glass connected with a smash, shattering on impact. The man fell sideways, clutching his head. Pieces of glass were lodged in his skull and blood was streaming through his fingers.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" The man let go of Darren who stayed lying on the floor.
Carmen stood there, breathing heavily, the remains of the bottle shaking in her hand. The street was silent except for the occasional car driving past.
The last man stepped back, quivering, eyes darting between his friends bodies on the ground. Sweat dripping down his face, he ran, disappearing into the dark.
Darren groaned, pushing himself upright, one arm wrapped around his crushed ribs. "Shit… Carmen what did you do?"
But Carmen didn't hear him. She was staring at the dark blood dripping from her hand, the glass glittering red under the streetlight. The smell of iron, the wet pavement, the dull ache in her chest. She had fucked up.
Seeing this, triggered a memory within Mark's brain. 'That girl.' Does violence follow him? Was this his curse? For a moment, the world around him folded inward. The crunch of glass, the sound of bones splitting, it was the same sound as before. His mind flashed white. The dancer's mask. His father's corpse. The Lamppost light flickered. He wasn't standing on the pavement anymore he was somewhere else, somewhere older, darker. Tom's voice echoed through the silent streets, faint but clear-
"Don't succumb Mark, It's what 'they' want"
Then it was gone.
Carmen's voice dragged him back. "Mark!" She had come to her senses and was now kneeling beside the woman who Carmen had given her leather jacket to for warmth. However the girl was still shaking violently.
"Call an ambulance!"
Mark fumbled for his phone and dialled. His voice barely worked as he gave the address. The operator's tone was calm and distant, as if none of this were real.
Deja vu hit him like a speeding train, he had been in this situation before. Violence does follow him.
This was his curse.
When he hung up, the girl was looking at him, her mascara running, lip split and expression unreadable. She didn't say anything. She just stared, like she could see something inside him that he couldn't.
The sirens began to sound faintly in the distance. Darren slumped against the pub wall, clutching his side. Carmen stood beside him, watching the blue and red lights grow closer. Will had already left, not wanting any part in this.
Carmen looked down at her hands again. The blood had dried.
For the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure if she had done the right thing, or if she'd simply become a part of the same violence she as an officer was trying to prevent.