Mark sat quietly in the interrogation room, he never thought he would be on this side of the conversation. It was now morning, he could hardly sleep last night. However his mind felt as if it was missing something, something he had done. Whatever it was had escaped his memory.
Samuel Herring sat opposite him. A well renowned officer who's work, Mark admired greatly.
"So, Mark." Samuel crossed his legs, placing an empty coffee onto the table. "What happened?"
'This is stupid.' Mark thought to himself. 'Why am I in here and not those drunk fuckers!'
"Samuel.. I believe you know exactly what happened. You just had Carmen in here did you not?"
"Yes, however Carmen will be spending at least a week in jail, even if what she did was self defence." Samuel uncrossed his legs and leant in towards Mark. "From what she described.. I believe Carmen is in the right, however she still acted erratically."
Mark leant back in his chair.
"You on the other hand, Mark, are an interesting case. From what she described you were not involved in any of the fighting. Meaning that you are of free of charge for this incident, however there is someone here who would like to talk to you about a different happening that occurred yesterday." Samuel stood up from his chair. "You can come in now." He said, swinging the metal door open.
"Elias Crowe."
"Who are you?" Mark asked as Elias sat down onto the chair and interlocked his fingers. Elias observed as a droplet of sweat dripped down Mark's cheek and then onto his lap. It was as if Elias was interrogating him using only his eyes.
"Hi, Mark." Elias grinned from ear to ear. "Don't worry, I'm rooting for you in this case. I hope you and your friends manage to get off the hook with minimal jail time." He continued to smile, almost eerily.
"So what is this about. Samuel said you were here to talk about something that happened yesterday... Am I a witness.. is that why you came to question me?" Mark tried to remember what happened yesterday but, it was as if his mind had been 'tampered with?' Why couldn't he remember what happened yesterday? He thought, worrying that he may be in trouble.
"Oh.. Don't worry it's just a minor happening."
Mark relaxed, sated by the man's words.
"Then what can I do for you sir?" Mark asked, calmly.
"So... Yesterday a woman by the name of Rosa came to me. (Well I came to her,) About a man who assaulted her at around five pm. She described the man as having black short hair, maybe around 5ft 8, and wearing a brown trench coat."
Mark looked down at himself and at the brown trench coat he was wearing.
The memories came back.
'Fuck.'
That girl.. The girl he had attacked. 'This wasn't my fault.' He thought to himself, 'I'll just say that it was an accident!' Mark's skin turned pale. He began sweating more profusely than before and started fidgeting with his fingers.
"Are you ok.. Mark?" Elias observed him closely, noting down every quiver Mark made. "You wouldn't happen to know something about this.. Would you, Mark?" Elias was still smiling, however much more than before. 'This is just sheer luck, Rosa said it couldn't have been a detective, that stupid bitch... I have him, I have the culprit already.' Elias rose from his chair. 'I am the greatest!'
"Sorry, it's just.. I heard about it on the news. Horrifying stuff... Truly." Mark looked up at Elias, who loomed over him like a monster from a horror movie.
"Yes.. Yes. It truly is horrifying. Anyway, sorry to keep you Mark, I'm sure you want to get out of here."
'What?' Mark thought. 'He's finished his questioning already? He hasn't even asked any questions relating to the crime?' He suddenly had a wave of fear wash over him. 'What if he already found out..'
Elias headed towards the door.
"Wait, who are you?" Mark asked, sounding desperate.
Elias turned back around to face Mark. His grin seemed as if it was plastered to his face, like a mask.
"My name is Elias Crowe, however you already know that so you shall refer to me as Elias. I am thirty nine years old, I live in Bespoke Manor, on a hill, at the northmost part of Veilham where I can overlook the whole town. From up there, you can almost convince yourself you're a god. The poor crawl beneath you like ants, attempting to make the most out of the feeble lives they possess." Elias cleared his throat and continued, "Every morning, I rise at precisely six-thirty. I take a hot shower, brush my teeth and polish my Rolex until it gleams like a diamond. I have my breakfast in silence. I don't watch television; the news disgusts me, however I do enjoy the sound of rain tapping against the windowpanes. I'm sorry Mark, but the people we share our world with do not deserve it. They murder, rape, steal, scam and terrorize only for them to be thrown into prison and released five years later. Our world doesn't deserve these people, these monsters. We don't.. Mark." Elias winked at Mark as he left the interrogation room through the metal door. "I'll see you around.." His voice faded away, leaving Mark in silence, accompanied only by the empty chair that resided opposite him.
'Fuck.' He thought again as he stared at the dirty wall, watching a spider slowly crawl up it's rusted surface.
'How did I forget..' Mark scratched his head. 'it has to have something to do with those 'things' Tom was talking about.' He rose from his seat and left out of the door and then out onto the street.
"What a bizarre bloke."
Mark spun around.
"I mean, he truly had some odd things to say.. Don't you think?" Tom was standing at the top of the stairs Mark had just descended from. "I guess you are gonna need to do something about him."
"True." Mark responded, turning back around to head back to his home.
"I assure you that you don't want to waste your time before judgement locked up in a jail cell."
"What?" He spun back around, "What exactly is judgement.. You mentioned it when we were in The Far Field, but to be honest you didn't apply any context or give an explanation!" Mark spoke in an aggressive tone. "Do I need to be worried. Do I need to prepare? Did you go through this.. Is that why your body was..." Mark was stuttering as he spoke, the fear of the unknown hit him like a train.
"Shit.."
Tom walked down the stairs and put an arm around Mark to comfort him. "I should have made this clearer sooner. Nevertheless, I believe it is better to stay myopic. You don't need to see the big picture until it's time. All I'll tell you is that it's going to be fine, you'll be fine... Trust me."
Tom's words brought a sense of light to Mark's inner struggles. He didn't need to know, he doesn't want to know, not yet anyway. He has friends, his life has been better recently. It's almost as if being a Sleepwalker isn't a curse but a gift.
"However I should probably warn you of a sign..." Tom's tone shifted and he lifted his arm off Mark's shoulder. "That sigil, on your arm, if it begins to glow that's when they will call for you. There is nothing I can do to help you from then on. At that point your short-sightedness of the situation will have lifted, allowing you to experience who and what 'they' truly are."
These words made Mark's stomach turn.
"But that won't be soon.. I don't think, at least not for a week. However your visions and symptoms will become more vivid and real. 'They' will use your deepest and darkest secrets against you. Just remember that it isn't real, none of it is.. Ok?"
"Ok." Mark's brain was crammed full of questions but he felt that it was unfair to pile so much onto one old man. "I best get going then.. See you Tom."
"Don't worry Mark, I never leave you. I reside within your head, I'm just a symptom, I'm not even rea-Tom's body faded away like mist.
'Was he telling the truth.. Is he truly just a product of my symptoms?' These questions within his head were becoming too much to deal with. He couldn't control them.
'Is Tom even real?'
Mark pulled up his sleave to observe the mark, it was still etched into his skin, 'Not glowing, thankfully.' He thought.
It began to rain. The droplets trickled down his face. Mark continued to head back home, his shoes creating splashes in puddles as he walked.
The rain was growing harder as if it was punishing him for his acts. 'How does that man.. Elias. Know it was me. What evidence could they have?' These questions solidified in his mind alongside the others as he wandered down the quiet road.
As he neared the corner of his house a scent hit his nose.
'Smoke?'
Rushing, Mark sprinted around the corner and what was before him made him freeze in place.
His house, burning.
'Wha.. Why-' Mark approached the devastating sight. 'When did this happen.'
The rain fell harder now. Harder than ever. His tears fell too. He had been in this situation before, how could he forget.
19th November 1986. Mark was sixteen years old. He lived in England, Cornwall. His father, Ren and his mother May were the most caring parents he could've asked for. They were perfect for his introverted personality. Life seemed perfect until the 19th.
Smoke, fire and tears were the main instruments of that night. If only he hadn't been so curious. Then maybe they wouldn't be.. gone. Mark has never smoked, never gone near a lighter.
The smoke reminded him of that day.
'Mum, Dad... I'm sorry.' He collapsed, his hands grasping at his head, his tears streamed out of his eyes onto the cobblestone pavement. Someone was approaching him. Their black outline stood out against the blue sky.
"Tomohiro what are ya doing mate?!"
Mark recognised this voice.
"Jacob?" Mark's eyes focused onto the dark figure.
"Are you alright, I saw you as I stepped outside to go get my morning stella?"
Mark looked back over to his house, the smoke had disappeared. His house was no longer burning.
'What..?'
"Alright well, I mainly came over to check whether your alright because.. Well that is what a good landlord should do.. No?"
"Yeah, Yeah.. Thanks Jacob." Mark spoke like he was out of breath as he rose to his feet.
Jacob walked off, pulling his grey jeans up as he walked.
Mark wiped the tears from his eyes. 'None of this is real.' He remembered Tom's words.
Wiping his hands onto his trousers, Mark continued his walk up the wet cobblestone path to his house.
Once he arrived inside he put his rice in the cooker and began to brew his tea. Sitting down at his table his friends crossed his mind.
Darren is in hospital, probably for who knows how long.
Carmen is in jail, for about a week.
And Will probably never wants to see them again, for good reason.
Then Mark thought about the girl.. He hoped she was doing alright. He could hardly remember anything from after the fight. To him, it's now all a blur.
An hour passed, Mark headed to his toilet for a piss. As he zipped his fly back up he noticed something in his mirror. That wasn't him. Whoever it was, it wasn't him.
'Or was it?' Mark stared back at the imposter. "Who are you."
"Oh.. You know who I am. Don't you Markie boy." The man spoke in a tone which you would use if you were speaking to a child. "Don't listen to that old runt, Tom." The reflection's sneer was horrific, causing Mark to look away.
"This is a symptom.. Isn't it."
"A what, never heard of them. Did Tom tell you about them, that fuckin liar." The man's tone switched, it was much colder now.
Mark looked back towards the mirror.
"Ya know Mark, he is a liar. However you'll find that out soon enough."
Mark wiped his brow. "How can I trust you. I'm sure if I told Tom about this he would tell me the same about you. And you still have yet to answer my question..."
The reflection walked toward the glass, getting closer to Mark.
"Just, who are you?"
The silence that followed was loud.
The imposter's face dropped, from a smile to a frown. Suddenly, the bathroom light shattered, sending Mark into a silent darkness.
'Why me, why did I have to be the one to go through all this.' Mark's thoughts were then swallowed by the silence. Sat in the dark, his mind shattered, he had no clue what was real anymore.