Free Expired by Evie Rhodes

back of her neck prickled. Something in his tone was downright disturbing. She peered through her bifocals at him. Suddenly his being erupted in raucous laughter, but his mouth never opened. A symphony of voices swelled up from within him. But his lips didn’t move.
    He decided he did not want to kill this old woman in a way that would bring them running just yet. But die she would. He already had a place picked out for her. Besides, this shop needed to be closed down. Her death would provide that. He saw the fear well up in her eyes, bulging behind the bifocals.
    She looked out onto the street. Ms. Virginia was shocked that she didn’t see anyone. This was a 125 th Street in Harlem. There were always people on the street when she closed her shop, but not on this night. He wasn’t moved by her search. He knew he had the area locked down.
    She thought about the secret button that had been installed in case she was in trouble. All she had to do was hit it. The police would be immediately summoned. As she discreetly tried to reach for the button, she discovered that her hand was struck with a paralysis, and she could not move it, try as she might.
    The man stood stock-still, watching her. His face was a mask devoid of any expression. His features molded together, forming a sort of blandness. He wanted to get this over with. He was still standing under the single lightbulb. He could feel the rays beaming down on him. Beads of sweat popped out on his head and face. He hated the light.
    Slowly as she watched him, she felt the tentacles of his being absorbing her. It was a weird feeling, like being sucked in by a sponge. She began to understand that she was dealing with something sinister, dark, not of normal understanding.
    The man was giving her the creeps. The shock of this information rooted her to the spot. And while her mind screamed in protest, not a single word or scream left her lips.
    The man watched her steadily. He could actually be merciful at times. There were times when he handled things in what he called his gentle way. He liked this woman. He liked her strength and her dignity despite the circumstances.
    She would be a welcome addition. Still, that didn’t change anything. He would have no choice but to swallow her gift; he would just do it mildly. He would spare her the vengeance that he sometimes struck with.
    He slipped off his army jacket and showed her his biceps. The faces immediately began to speak to her. They rose up under his skin, their features live and animated. Some of them travailed in great agony. All of them were well trained and under his command for when he needed to use their voices.
    And they spoke to her about things past and present, things she could identify with. Spoke to her about the mysteries in her books, all of which would be recorded in her mind, then erased as information not needed.
    The man opened his mouth, and Ms. Virginia beheld an unimaginable sight. The words stored on the many pages in all the different books floated off the pages and into the mouth of the man who stood before her. He swallowed the words whole.
    Unable to fathom or hold up under such an unholy sight, Ms. Virginia felt a small explosion in her chest, like a tiny fire being ignited. Then she fell to the floor.
    The man checked her pulse. There was none. Ms. Virginia had died on the spot of massive heart failure. Me opened her mouth. He put his mouth to hers, sucking out her spirit, along with her gift. He absorbed them inside himself, and Ms. Virginia took her place in his biceps along with the others who had gone before her.
    Her gift tasted sweet. It was the gift of intelligence.

13
    S till shaken by her spooky telephone conversation, Tracie sat between Michael and Dre on the plush sofa in the living room of her brownstone. The entire room was done in white and silver. The room was sleek with angles. The entire brownstone was prewar, boasting high ceilings and long windows.
    Tracie looked at