Out of the Darkness

There was nothing but black. I can’t move my body or feel it. It feels like the heaviest weight is on top of me. My muscles must be weak. The last thing I remember was them beating me for the 3rd day. The last thing I remember is passing out as they slowly cut my arm into segments. At that point I knew I was going to bleed out. I was finally going to die.

Now I feel like there is this type of invisible field around me. Like I am dreaming or suspended. I don’t know and it’s confusing. I don’t know what’s going on.

I initially thought I was alone. Then I heard murmurs that sounded far away. Then they got they got a tad more clearer. They sounded muffled at times.

“Only time will tell.” Someone said.

“I can’t believe there is no record of him. It’s like he was wiped from existence.” Someone else said.

They did wipe me from existence. I was supposed to die. Does that mean I didn’t die? For a group of people trained to kill, they didn’t do their job properly.

“I can’t believe he was still alive when we got there. His bones looked deformed and his left arm was cut into pieces.” The first person said.

“Were they able to save the rest of his limbs?” The second person asked.

Their voice doesn’t sound as deep as the first one. It’s a deep set voice, but it sounds like a high school kid or like the new guy who was just hitting puberty.

“His bones were practically smashed to bits. If they do heal, they wont be the same.” The first person sighed.

Their voice was obviously a man’s, though it was not intimidatingly deep. It wasn’t like the tone Boss used. He was a demonic incarnation like no other. Your spine wouldn’t just shiver under his glare, it would instinctively quake your entire body. It took me more than a decade of service to get used to it.

“Are you serious, Beckett?” One of them asked.

He sounded more concerned. It was coming through more clearly. He must have gotten closer or louder.

“He doesn’t have anybody, Lance. He doesn’t even have an identity.” The one I assumed to be Beckett answered.

“Doesn’t make him your concern. He was wrapped up with the mafia, he could be a crazy addict who piled up some serious debt.” The other one, Lance said.

If only they knew that I was actually someone who handled the collections from those addicts. Threatened, disgraced, and damaged property all for money.

“Nobody deserves to be alone.” Beckett answered.

Now it was quiet. Even if I could say something I don’t think I would be able to say anything either. Normally people like me were cursed to be alone forever and burn in the pits of despair. They would tell me I deserved to be alone.

“Well do whatever you are going to do, Beckett. If he wakes up and stabs you I will have ‘he told me so’ engraved on your tomb stone.” Lance warned.

Then it was quiet again. I wish I knew what was going on. It’s like I am held behind thick glass that was painted black.

“Regardless of what you did before this, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone. You just need someone to see past that. Hopefully when you wake up you will have a chance to find them.” Beckett said.

He almost sounded like he was trying to reassure me of the possibility. For some reason I felt like I could believe him too. Wait, so I am sleeping. Am I in a coma? If I am then those guys failed their job. They had orders to kill me.

“I wonder what you did to get to such a state.” Beckett spoke.

You wouldn’t want to know a single detail. Wait, is he really talking to me? Someone who will probably never answer? This guy was definitely crazy.

“It must have been really bad for you to end up like this.” He expressed with an almost sad tone.

Was he really feeling sympathy for someone like me? If he really knew what I have done he wouldn’t feel the same. The people I killed. Sure they were worthless addicts and lazy buffoons, but they were still people. I never regretted any of it either. I felt like I rid the world of a nuisance who would only bring corruption. Then again who was I to judge?

“Everybody does something bad in their life.” He stated.

Not as severe in comparison to mine, but he made sense. I have a feeling he hasn’t done anything close to it.

“I kicked this Yorkie like a football back in high school because it startled me. The neighbors called me an animal killer for years.”

I shot guard dogs at point blank range. They called me ‘The Euthanizer’ because I always made their deaths quick compared to humans. They made fun of me for being an animal lover and being soft. What they didn’t know is that if you didn’t kill the dog with the first shot they lock onto your arm like a steel trap until you bash their skulls in. I was not fond of cleaning that up so I avoided the situation all together.

“The poor thing yelped but then it came back to chew at my ankles anyway.” Beckett chuckled.

He continued on for a while. Talked about growing up. All of the bad things he did through his life so far. They were cute, probably like the ankle biting Yorkie he kicked. His stories were refreshing. Most stories I had the chance to hear were about killing and how great men and women were in bed. Like the men I worked with would have talked about getting his foot humped by a lemur at the zoo.

He would leave when visiting hours were over with the promise to come again. Then the next I would hear would be a ‘good morning’ with a story of what one of his family members did that morning or previous night. I started to enjoy his stories. He would talk about his family or friends.

“We always play pool at that bar. Then these guys showed up and tried to start something and made crude jokes about locals. Then the fight broke out and of course my stupid brothers get lost in it. What I didn’t expect was for my oldest brother to yell at me to brace myself.” He told.

There was something about bar fights. They just had a charm to them and just pulled you in. Especially when you forget about them the next morning.

“I thought I was going to get trampled or something then all of a sudden I was grabbed by an arm and leg and my back hits something hard. I thought some one threw me but then my brother put me down. Then the rest of the bar patrons bursted into laughter because he actually used me to knock the guy out.” Beckett laughed.

Wait, what?

“It was freaking embarrassing! I am a 23 year old man who was picked up like a steel folding chair or a bar stool.” He groaned. “Not like I didn’t get enough trash from being 5’3 and not being able to weigh more than 110 pounds.

Was he serious? I could pick him up with one hand and balance him on two fingers. No wonder why he sounded so young. Though he still sounded like he was in high school.

Then he went on about this girl he was dating. He never really talked about her appearance, just her personality. I thought it was because she was ugly, but from the way he talked about her, he just didn’t care about her looks. He talked about how they met to their first date. He was so nervous he threw up on his nephew’s dog before leaving. He ended up being late because he had to clean the little puppy who was far too eager to clean themselves.

His story made me realize that I never experienced something so innocent. I joined a gang when I was 15. I didn’t have the chance for such luxury. The last girl I was intimate got stolen away by a superior member. The one before that never wanted to see me after she almost got shot. After that I stayed away from anybody outside. Sure there were urges that I needed to be satisfied, but nothing else beyond that.

“Have you ever had a connection like that?” He asked me.

Nope. Sounds like a lot of work.

“You’ll have a chance to look after you wake up.” He assured me.

Highly doubtful, but he sounded so optimistically hopeful.

“The more your wounds heal the more your looks shine through. You must have been popular.” He sounded like he smirked as he said it.

Not at all. I never smiled so that tended to scare most people away. It attracted the occasional weirdo but it seemed like the easier to handle outcome.

Then he started talking about this group project he had to do for one of his courses. He said he initially didn’t like one of his group mates but then they became quite close over time. He even went over his topic for the presentation. I didn’t care for the topic at hand but he made me listen to him. I believed every word he would press. I even changed my views a bit. I gave up trying to understand how he did it. Just got lost in the one-sided conversation.

After he left it was quiet for a longer time. He said that he was flooded with school so I expected as much. What I didn’t expect was how lonely it was going to be. For someone who always preferred the silence of lone existence. I felt uncomfortable by myself in this darkness. I want to do something, but I am not sure how.

I felt a bit sad that he hasn’t been visiting. What was going on? Why am I craving attention? Why is it his in particular? Maybe because he sounds like he cares? It has to be something about him.

The next thing I knew the door was slammed open and I felt as if I moved. It’s like I swayed a bit. Then there was a sniffle. Was he crying?

The sniffling continued with little whimpers of his sobs. Why was he crying? I wish I could do something. I don’t know what I was doing. I just wanted to do something for him. Why did I feel like this?

Then the door opened again.

“That cheater doesn’t deserve your tears.” Someone scolded.

It sounded familiar.

“What she does deserve is an STD.” He added.

I might not know this guy but I could agree with him. Was Beckett really crying about her cheating? He sounded so sure of himself about her. He actually had strong feelings for the woman for her to only throw him away. She deserved more than a disease.

“Holy crackers did you see that?” The unknown man gasped.

Did he just say holy crackers?

“See what, Lance?” Beckett asked.

That’s why he sounded familiar.

“I think his hand just twitched.” Lance said.

It did? How did I do that?

“Really?!” Beckett asked.

The room was silent. It stayed like that for a bit.

“You liar.” Beckett accused.

“I’m not your ex.” Lance retorted.

The room was quiet again.

“Too soon?” Lance asked with a sad tone.

I thought it was way too soon to bring it up. Beckett seemed to still be affected by it. Who would hurt such a sweet guy like him? He deserves better.

Days just seemed to pass. Lance started to come around more often. He would talk with Beckett instead of him just telling stories. I was glad that he had somebody to talk to. Then I started to feel jealousy form. I wanted to take part in the conversation. Why was I feeling this way?

Apparently there were times that I would move. They would stop their conversation and ask me to move something else. They would always encourage me, but the task itself was hard. I didn’t know exactly how I was moving stuff. All I knew is that I would be mad whenever they would see me move something. It was always my right hand. It made me think about what they were talking about.

Beckett got beaten up by his ex’s brother because he was told by his sister that Beckett cheated on her. Luckily Lance was there to keep the injuries to a minimum, but it still upset me. It made me want to hand grind their skulls.

“Hey he moved again!” Beckett called out.

Then I felt something. This warm feeling.

“Why are you holding his hand?” Lance asked.

He was holding my hand?

“I don’t know, just thought maybe he needed some help?” Beckett answered with a question.

He didn’t seem so sure about his answer.

“I had a feeling you swung that way.” Lance snickered.

“You make being in the closet look fun, I guess.” Beckett retorted.

“I am only in there to look for your sorry behind.” Lance returned.

They continued to go back and forth. While I focused on something else. I could still feel the warm sensation. Hopefully that means that he was still holding my hand. I tried to picture it. His hand in mine. I couldn’t form a definite image, but I tried. When I managed to form something in my mind, I thought of squeezing back. I didn’t see it working until I felt the sensation get stronger.

“Holy carp, he just squeezed my hand back!” Beckett exclaimed.

There was the sound of stumbling and the door. Later another person came into the room. I started to feel more sensations. Was this what touch felt like to me now?

“There might just be hope yet.” The stranger said.

“Really?” Beckett asked.

“From the activity he has been showing, he might just wake up soon.” The stranger answered.

“Thank you doctor.” Lance expressed.

The doctor accepted his thanks and left the room. The warm sensation returned to my hand again. I liked it. I didn’t want to let go.

“Come on you are so close to waking up. So hurry up and open your eyes.” Beckett pleaded as my hand got warmer.

“Yeah, he really needs someone else to annoy other than me.” Lance joked.

Then the warmth disappeared. It made me crave the contact again. Lance let out a yelp of pain before the warmth returned.

“Like you are one to call me annoying.” Beckett huffed.

“You love me like this.” Lance teased.

“Yup, wouldn’t trade you for anything. Besides I wouldn’t get much in return.” Beckett teased back.

They began to tease each other back and forth. The laughter echoed in the room. It just fueled my desire to wake up.

I don’t know how much time passed, but something was different. I started to feel more sensations. I felt stiff and my body felt heavy. There was soreness and tensed muscles. Wait, I could feel the rest of my body. The darkness looked different too. It didn’t seem as thick as before. There was also a noise cutting through the silence. It was beeping. I don’t remember hearing that.

I tried to move something, but my body protested. I tried to open my eyes but they refused. I didn’t give up. I continued my attempts to move something. Anything. Then I felt my eyes finally crack. A bit of light poured through. I found myself constantly blinking. Trying to adjust to not having them open for so long. I took in the room around me. It was dimly lit. I saw the monitor by my bed. Then I heard the door knob turning. There was someone talking outside. When the door opened I could hear the voice more clearly.

“I am already here. Hurry up.” Lance demanded.

Then the light suddenly got brighter making me groan. I couldn’t see anything again. I tried blinking to get them used to the new light intensity.

“Did you just?” Lance asked.

When my eyes finally adjusted again I opened my eyes. I saw a man looking back at me. There was noise coming from the phone near his ear. Then he flinched.

“You don’t have to yell into the phone!” He yelled back.

I just continued to watch him as he argued with the person on the other line.

“The princess just woke up.” Was the last thing Lance said before a confused look graced his features.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it with a raised eyebrow. Then he just laughed as he put the phone in his pocket.

“That’s sure going to get him to hurry up.” Lance chuckled as he pulled a chair closer to the bed.

“Might as well get you checked while we wait for him.” Lance said as he left to probably go find someone.