Bright Side

I never knew red was my favorite color until then. The way the moonlight shone on my shaking hands contrasted the maroon drops of blood in such a beautifully striking way. My mother always did teach me to look on the bright side of things, I guess. A small stream of blood was flowing down the short tip of the protruding knife, creating a now pool of blood on my hands and feet. Although the pain was searing, all I could think was how hard it was going to be to clean up this damn rug. I thudded to my knees and succumbed to the all too familiar sweet sleep of death.

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"God dammit Mort. Again?" I awoke to an overly annoyed Eliza shaking me awake. "I told you to be more careful. You know Cowan's men are relentless. They're dumb as a bag of rocks, but they will eventually put 2 and 2 together once they realize they're killing the same asshole over and over." Eliza helped me over to a small wooden chair by the fold-up card table I used as a dining table.

"Do you have to be so ... harsh? I did die after all," I grumbled, still a bit hoarse from the previous night's commotion.

"Mort, your death has become about as common as a weekend bender for a college kid. And you know how much I hate blood. It's just so ... sticky. Ugh". Eliza walked over to the kitchen sink, face scrunched in disgust and began furiously washing the blood off her hands. "Also, I really can't be late to work again. I mean, this is the 2nd time this week. My boss is gonna to give me all the insufferable assignments, and it's all your fault."

Eliza was a reporter for the Fulton Times, our local newspaper, and a damn good one at that. I always told her she was too big-time for our town, but for some god-forsaken reason, she loved Fulton, and the community of Fulton loved her back. And I loved her too. I met Eliza a few years back. Before it all began. It was an instant connection. And her spunky fire perfectly balanced my quirky introvertedness. Although we had broken up 6 months ago, she remained my best friend and most-trusted confidant. My new-found gift was just too much for her to handle though. I get it. It's almost too much for me too.

"Liz I …”

“Liz nothing. I don’t want to hear it this time, Mort. You’re becoming too reckless. I totally understand that you have this insatiable drive to uncover whatever it is that Cowan and his fucking cult is up to, but things are getting way too dangerous. We don't know the extent of what he is capable of. If one of his outcasted students can make you immortal, what can he do?".

"Liz, he outcasted Taryn because she was too powerful. He couldn't control her. And how can I just give up and betray her dying wish? I'm so fucking close, Liz. I decoded the cypher from Taryn's folder. And I think it's a way to finally take him down. An end to the killings and a way to break this case wide open. It could be your big break. You could..."

"Please. I don't need a big break. I just need you to be okay." Eliza turned away, before a tear streamed down her face. "Great," she sniffled, "Now I have to re-do my face." She took a deep breath and collected herself. "Listen, I'll be back by after work. So please don't get into anything before then. Do a stupid puzzle or something. Just don't go anywhere." She grabbed her leather jacket off the card table and headed for the door.

"Hey, could you at least pull the knife out before you go?"

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It never ceased to amaze me how quickly the skin healed. Standing shirtless in front of my bathroom mirror, I twisted and turned and tried to look from every angle but still could not see a visible scar. It sure did itch like hell though.

I walked over to sit on the couch to examine the notes I had laid out on the coffee table. I had done extensive research on Richard Cowan for the past 4 months. I knew where he was born, who hangs on his family tree, and even his favorite ice cream flavor. But I still lacked so much of the details of his life the past 5 years he had been living in Fulton. He had purchased an old farmhouse right on the edge of town limits 6 years ago. He had renovated the old house and began living in it a year after his purchase. He then began recruiting for his now "secret society". Slowly but surely the population of the compound had risen to around 40 members, as far as I could tell. Some of the members I had identified and ran background checks on seem to have ties to Rosicrucian orders and various esoteric societies but have overwise normal and clean records. I would have never turned my attention to them if I hadn't run into my childhood friend, Taryn, 6 months ago. I had last seen Taryn when we were in 4th grade when her parents had abruptly taken her out of school and moved a few states away shortly thereafter. I almost didn't recognize her when she approached me in the bar that night. I can remember that conversation like it was yesterday.

"Morton? Morton Riley? Is that you?" It had been raining and her oversized black raincoat was drenched, a few strands of hair plastered to her wet face.

"Uh, yeah... Taryn?" The random Facebook message I had received from her a few hours previous clued me into who my impromptu date was. "Hey, what's this about? I haven't seen you in, what, 20 years? Out of the blue and on such short notice? I just... I don't understand."

"This isn't going to make any sense to you yet, but someone is after me. They're going to kill me. And you are the only one who can stop them before they cause too much destruction. There's a lot you don't know, and I can't fill in all the blanks for you. But please just take a look at this and trust me." Taryn handed me a soaked manilla folder busting at the seams. "This should paint the picture clear enough for you. I'm so sorry to not tell you this until now. But I really wanted to keep you out of this as much as possible. It's too late for me, but I can make sure he can't hurt you... completely."

My mind was spinning with utter confusion. Before I could say anything, Taryn grabbed my wrist, and a sharp electric feeling ran through my body. I wanted to jerk away, but I could barely move. I was just locked in eye contact with her. She let go, and I finally felt like I could breathe again.

"Taryn, what the fuck. I don't understand."

"I'm so sorry. Please, just promise me you will read the whole thing. I swear, it'll begin to connect." And like a flash of lightning, she was gone, leaving a wet trail in her wake.

The manilla folder, now long dried, sat at the edge of my coffee table. Its innards splayed out like a victim of Jack the Ripper, the knife with my dried blood rested on top as if implicated. I had read every paper front to back enough times to recite the whole damn thing, but I still couldn't fully grasp its contents. I just couldn't internalize it to be true. How could a secret so integral to my life be kept from me for so long?

I turned my attention to the piece of notebook paper where I had scribble and crossed out so much. But the circled words at the bottom gave me hope. The cypher. I had finally cracked it.

It read...

'Just as a bitten lamb gives life, so shall the lamb kill the snake with its own fangs.'

From a bit of internet sleuthing, I had found that sheep are actually immune to pit viper venom. And their blood can be used to make an anti-venom. A bitten lamb giving life. But the lamb killing the snake? My guess is Cowan is the snake. But what lamb will kill him? And with his own fangs? I was a bit stumped, and seeing as I would probably only have one good chance to bring him down, I needed to get this right the first time.

My eyes shifted over to the polaroid picture I had been avoiding. It had been tucked between all the various papers within the folder. A man, presumably a younger Cowan, holding 2 infants, smiling. His joy looked authentic. On the back, written in Sharpie, was 'Me and Morton?' The moment I saw my name, my stomach dropped. It brought up so many questions and so little answers.

BANG BANG BANG. The hair on my neck stood up. Who on Earth would be banging on my door? Another loud bang and the shattering of wood. It was a large, broad-shouldered man in a black trench coat and sunglasses, straight out of The Matrix. The man took his glasses off and with a crooked smile and outstretched arms, he sneered, "Nice to finally meet you, my son."

Fucking Cowan. I was paralyzed with fear. I needed to muster some sort of strength up. Do something, dammit! He strode to the edge of the couch, where I sat.

"Your sister put up quite a fight, but you look like much easier prey."

As he pursued me further, I instinctively grabbed the knife that had killed me the night before. With two hands, I clumsily pointed it at him, almost as if I were about to knight him Sir Richard Cowan of Fulton. Well, it does have a nice ring to it. There's Mom's bright side again.

He bare-handedly pushed the knife away and laughed in my face.

"You know, we share the same death-defying anomaly. Except I know how to end you for good, my little lamb."

I clambered to the far edge of the couch as fast as I could. The knife, still in my hand reflecting off the dull, overhead light coming from the hallway outside my apartment. Then I saw, engraved in the knife, where some blood had been scraped away. Viper. The fang. The lamb. The snake. I used Cowan's momentum lunging towards me to plunge the knife deep within his upper left chest. Cowan sat back on his heels with a fearfully concerned look. Gasping.

"It's...what...what did you...? How?" And with that he fell onto the coffee table, pulling all the notes to the ground with him. The light left his eyes, and I knew it was gone for good.

"Thanks sis." I said, with a sigh of relief. All of a sudden, I could hear a voice in the hallway.

"Oh my god. No no no no no. MORT?! MORTON?!" Eliza came running through the non-existent door. "Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?! Is that ... him? Cowan?"

"Uh, yeah. It's him. I'm fine. Just a bit shaken still. You literally just missed me be Batman, by the way."

"Oh yeah sure, you're Batman now." Eliza's eyes widened, and she let out a deep exhale. "Okay jokes aside, what the hell do we do?"

I think I have a new favorite color. The deep brown curls of Eliza's hair, illuminated by a liminal, yellow light.

"I think I know exactly what we should do. Let's leave. For good. As far as Fulton knows, I've been dead for six months. And my landlord seriously thinks I'm Joey Tribbiani. And I don't know how I know this, but I think I can actually die now. I think that power left with Cowan's soul. Liz, I've realized so much about what a life means over the past 6 months. And I don't want to waste this last life. And I don't want it without you. And I'm sorry I drug my feet so much before and that I ... "

Eliza shut me up with her rosy-tinted lips. I missed this.

"Okay, then. Where should we go?"