Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1) - Page 26/42

I was only a hand’s length away from his face. His eyes, though unreadable, were looking deep into mine. I could have easily sat there for a long time just staring at him, holding his gaze. If I imagined hard enough, I could almost see lightning flowing between us in an unbroken line.

But the more I stared at him like that, the more I became conscious of how much of a psycho I must have looked.

I took my hand off of his forehead and dropped my eyes to the seat. The bolts were broken. I noticed how heavily my heart was beating in my chest. What was it about this man that agitated not only my mind but my heart as well?

There was only one way to find out. I took a deep breath and dove in.

“Last week at work,” I said, “I was waiting for the elevator. There was no one in the lobby, or so I thought. Then I noticed this lady sitting, totally motionless, on the couch. She was like no one I had ever seen before. Like someone out of a David Lynch film, almost.”

I met his eyes again. They had never left mine, like they were waiting for my gaze to return to his. I felt like he was trying to hypnotize me. I was torn between feeling self-conscious and wanting to look away, or to fall deeper into them and lose myself. Then there was that accompanying feeling of tightness in my chest, the feeling that I wasn’t getting enough air, and that I was drowning in this indescribable whirlpool.

I couldn’t take it anymore and quickly diverted my eyes to the outside of the car. The rain and interior fog had blurred the windscreen but I could still make out the shapes of the trees dancing in the background. I focused on their movements, all the while knowing he was still looking at me. I continued talking.

“She was wearing...well, it looked like she was dressed for her prom, only she had to be about eighty or something. She had perfectly curled hair—you know, like they did in the forties, set with pins and everything—and a whole face full of the thickest makeup ever. Like greasepaint. And her lipstick. My god, I have never seen such a sloppy job. She even had it on her teeth, which was scary because this freak would not stop smiling at me. Even as the elevator doors were closing.”

I shot a glance at Dex to make sure he was still listening. And gasped.

There was a trail of blood running out of his mouth.

He was biting his lower lip so hard that he was drawing blood. His eyes remained motionless and fixed on mine; I started to wonder if he truly was looking at me or if he had gone into a trance, or was experiencing some kind of seizure.

“Dex, you’re bleeding,” I said trying to hide the horror in my voice.

With a measured movement he languidly licked his lips and dropped my gaze. I quickly reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a tissue. He reached for it in stupor. I pushed his hand aside and dabbed the tissue on his lips. With my other hand I leaned on his shoulder and bent down so that my face was right in front of his. No lazy gazing this time. I needed him to see me.

“Are you OK?” I asked politely but firmly. “Seriously. Answer me, Dex. Otherwise I’m calling my uncle for help because I don’t know what to do with you right now.”

He took the tissue from my hand, balled it up and then tossed it in the backseat. He sucked back on his lips for a few seconds. The individual hairs in his moustache bristled. For a mere moment I entertained the idea of sucking his lips myself. It was an inappropriate thought, above all else, and I pushed it out of my head.

He released his lip. It had stopped bleeding. His eyes looked up at the ceiling and he took in a deep breath. I felt that maybe I wasn’t helping. I took my hand off of his shoulder and sat back.

“Two weeks ago,” he started, his voice rich like cream, “I took Jennifer to Bainbridge Island.”

Oh yes. Jennifer. The main reason why sucking his face would be oh-so inappropriate. I sat further back still.

“I actually had to move there from New York at the end of high school to live with…well, anyway, needless to say I had never gone back there since I moved. But Jenn was insisting that we at least pay the place a visit since she had heard there were a few trendy wineries popping up here and there. It’s all about the fucking trends.”

I nodded, eager to know more about him.

He continued. “Finally, I just gave up and told her we would go for a day trip. The weather was gorgeous and it had been fucking fabulous until this last week. And yeah, there were a lot of bad memories still locked up and lurking around different corners but I felt like I was close to putting that part of my past all behind me and moving forward. As we all hope to do. So, Jenn decides she wants to get some gelato at this busy new store, even though I know she’s going to start regretting it and throwing up in the bathroom after she eats it. She’s lactose intolerant and uses it as an excuse to binge and purge. You know, an acceptable form of bulimia. I hope you don’t subscribe to that bullshit.”

He wagged his finger at me. I shook my head adamantly.

“Anyway, she goes and waits in this retardedly long lineup for pansy-ass ice cream, because that’s all gelato is, so I decide to occupy myself and take a wander down by the docks. If there is anything I can’t stand it’s waiting for people. Keep that in mind, Perry.

“Yes, where was I? Oh. Yes. So, I walk down to the docks. It’s a gorgeous day, and people are milling about doing their usual tourist thing. I’m watching a middle-aged couple getting ready to leave in their sweet sailboat when I see something out of the corner of my eye. Someone has sidled up next to me.

“Now, I love making inappropriate banter with strangers; I seriously do. But on this particular day I don’t feel like talking to anyone. So, I ignore this person who’s standing beside me. I probably did this for about three minutes or so, long enough for the boat I was watching to motor away. Finally, I just can’t take it anymore. For an instant I even think it’s probably someone looking the other way. Fascinating how we always assume things revolve around us.

“But I was right to begin with. I see this old lady standing beside me, staring right at me. She is exactly as you have described. Right down to the lipstick on the teeth. She was also wearing something highly inappropriate. So much so that later on when I described what I saw to Jenn, I was shocked that she hadn’t seen her. How could you not see an old lady wearing Dame Edna makeup and a gown ripped straight off of Bette Davis’s dead body?”

Dex’s tale was creating shivers up my spine.

“And...what happened?” I asked, enthralled. I was suddenly very glad we were close to each other in this car. I was about ready to jump into his arms.

He cleared his throat. “Well. I don’t know. We must have stood there for some time, though maybe it was just a few seconds. Her smile was so…omniscient. I couldn’t think of what to do or say. And the funniest thing was that she seemed oddly familiar. She said some stuff to me that…well, she seemed to know everything about me. She said...”

His voice trailed off and he looked down at his hands. A lock of hair fell forward again. I waited for him to continue, not wanting to pry since the topic seemed to be more than personal.

“Basically, she said that I’d find someone who could help me find what I was looking for. Someone who would help me get closure. Then she started to leave. For some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to run after her, as slowly as she was moving. I could only ask ‘Who?’ She told me exactly this ‘You will find her in the lighthouse.’ And then she went around the corner and was gone.”

“You didn’t go after her?”

He shook his head, the white of his eyes showing clearly. “I couldn’t. All I could think was that I had to get back to Jenn. I didn’t want to see that woman again.”

“But she knew all that stuff about you, that no one else would know!” I cried out.

“I know,” he said. “But I didn’t want to know how she knew.”

“The lighthouse,” I mused.

“Well, it didn’t make much sense to me until later when I came across…well, you. And it still didn’t make any sense, at least at the time. But…”

He looked at me with a tinge of yearning. Maybe it was amazement. Maybe I was seeing what I wanted to see.

“Anyway, I knew I had to get you on board with my idea, no matter what.”

“You told the twins that it was your boss’s idea and you that were just doing what ‘the man’ says,” I pointed out, still annoyed over that revelation last night.

“I lied,” he said simply.

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I lie, Perry. We all lie, even you, but not everyone is brave enough to admit it.”

I wasn’t satisfied with that unsettling answer. I knew it would only serve to make me second guess everything he did and said now, but I ignored it and urged him to continue.

“So you wanted me because I was the lighthouse lady?”

“At first. And then it made me realize that perhaps it was a sign that I was on the right track. That this was the time to finally break away from Wine Babes and get something started on my own. Wine Babes was always Jenn and Jimmy’s idea…I was only brought on at a later date when the last cameraman quit.”

“Well,” I said and sat back against my seat. I wasn’t sure what to make of this now.

“Well,” he agreed. We sat there in silence for a few moments. Finally, I had to ask.

“And then you saw her. Just now in the diner. What did she say to you that made you freak out like that?”

His eyes flashed with fear. He fixed them on me. They held me there.

“I’d rather not say. Basically...” He sighed and started to chew on his lip. I watched him intently to make sure he didn’t draw blood again. “She basically said that this was only the beginning. And that we had to finish what we started.”

“And what do you think that means?” I asked.

He ignored me. “Did she say anything to you?”

I felt that if I told him what she said, if there was some truth to it, which I believed there was, it would only put him on the spot. But, unlike Dex, I couldn’t lie. He would know.

“She said that you’d tell me what happened to you. Whatever that means. And that I had to watch you.” I left out the part about being cut from the same cloth. That notion was too ridiculous to even mention. And kind of insulting.

“Watch me? For what?” He asked, almost uninterested.

“I don’t know. She’s some creepy clown lady.”

He managed a smile and stared at his fingernails. “Yes. She is. But she knows us. She knows both of us.”

“She knows you,” I pointed out. “I only saw her once before this and now she only talked about you.”

“She mentioned you, too,” he admitted casually.

My heart flitted a beat. I felt he was about to say something damning, though I had no idea what that could be. She knew something deep, dark and secret about Dex. What deep, dark and secret thing could she know about me?

“What did she say?”

“She said that I needed to take care of you. That you needed me. And that I had to keep an eye on you.” He laughed at that last part. “I think she was implying that you could be dangerous.”