Free Diabolical by Hank Schwaeble Page B

easier for you.”
    Morris stared down at her blankly. Exhausted from panic, and lacking a more attractive alternative, he circled the bench warily and sat.
    â€œYou know, you don’t have to keep it hidden away like that. Not around me. What you have is a rare gift. A mark of distinction. Must have been hard growing up, though, huh? The other kids either ridiculing you or keeping their distance. Teenage years spent watching others have fun, while girls treated you like a disease. The stuff of urban legends. Quite a word, isn’t it? Deformed .”
    Morris said nothing. He pressed the Hand deeper into the pocket of his jacket.
    â€œBut enough pleasantries. You’re a hard man to track down, did you know that? Of course you did. That was a silly question.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œMy name is Katrina. Or Ashley. Or Melissa. What you call me doesn’t really matter, but if it helps you can think of me as Deborah. What does matter is, I found you. And now . . . now we can get down to the business of helping you realize your full potential. Your true calling.”
    â€œYou don’t sound like a cop.”
    â€œI can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. Now, if you’ll just assure me I don’t smell like one, either, you’ll have made my day.”
    Morris stared at her, saying nothing.
    â€œI’m not a cop. Have you ever seen a cop that looked like me?” She swept her hand down the length of her body. “Like this ? I mean, come on.”
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    The woman perched an elbow along the top of the backrest. Morris had the momentary impression of an angler setting a hook.
    â€œI told you. To help you realize your potential.”
    â€œI don’t understand anything you’re saying.”
    â€œYou, Morris. I’m talking about you. You and your one, allconsuming talent. A talent for torture and murder. For inflicting pain. For destroying lives without remorse.”
    He started to toss out a denial but held it in check. There was something about the woman’s manner, the way she spoke with such familiarity. And the way those sunglasses reflected his faces; twin images of himself staring back, like a snapshot of the way she saw him. The way he saw himself. There was a heaviness in the air, a gravity to the moment. This was too much. He needed to stand up and walk away. But then what?
    â€œWould you like to see him?” she asked. “See what he looks like?”
    â€œSee what who looks like?”
    â€œDon’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
    He watched the frozen image of himself stare back in stereo. He wasn’t certain how to respond. He really hadn’t known what she was talking about, until that last comment.
    â€œThat knowledge you’ve always had, that you were different. And I don’t mean just physically. That the world was designed by and for other people, people you understood only the way a human might understand creatures he observed in the wild, or in a zoo.”
    The trill of a siren grew loud, then just as quickly began to recede. The woman paused briefly to let the noise pass.
    â€œWell, you are different, Morris. You’re literally one in a million. A hundred million, actually.”
    â€œDifferent how?”
    â€œYou were born without a soul. And that allowed you to bring a little bit of Hell with you into this world.”
    A long silence between them. Then Morris said, “And how do you know this?”
    â€œYou might say it takes one to know one.”
    â€œYou’re saying you don’t have a soul?”
    â€œWe’ll get into that later. For now, I just want you to know that you’re here for a purpose, Morris. I can show you that purpose.”
    â€œWhat’s in it for you?”
    â€œMaybe I just want to do a good deed, help my fellow man.”
    â€œBull crap. Everyone does what they do for themselves.