Chapter 4

Mythos House, Michigan

He watched the tall man enter the room, a towel in one hand. His light blue eyes looked up suspiciously at the other man, a frown settling between his eyes. The man had dark, wavy hair like his substitute teacher that had found him parents. Brown eyes stared back at him, a hand outstretched. He had not heard his voice yet, the man had given him food last night without a word. Taking the hand, he followed the man to a bathroom down the hall. He was left alone, a towel draped over his small body and a soap bar pushed into his other. Looking at the closed door behind him, he placed the bar in the shower. Slipping his t-shirt over his head, he dropped it next to the towel.

Everything was dull, the walls gray and dirty, not at all like back home and he missed his mom's teasing when she readied his bath for him. He missed his dad's tickling and bear hugs that was just special between them. Why was he with this quiet man who said nothing? Wiping his eyes, he stood there in the middle of the room, wondering what to do.

After a while, he reached up and opened the shower, testing the water like he remembered his mom do. It was cold and he had no idea how to make it warm. He tried to find the warm tap but there was only one. Turning, he moved hesitantly towards the door. Standing in front of it, he tried to open it but it was stuck, somehow locked. The water still ran behind him, and he screwed up his face as he thought about what to do. He knew he was smarter than his classmates. His parents had told him that he was special and they wanted to keep him safe from the bad man that breathed through tubes, so they played a game. He had to try to get good marks without getting good marks. So he would get some answers wrong, so that the teachers wouldn't know how smart he really was.

He took a step back when the door opened and the man came in. He watched him carefully, pressing his back against the wall. The man closed the shower, and turned towards him. He was scared but determined. Staring as the other man stared back; he saw the man nod at the shower.

"It's too cold."

He looked at the boy, impressed by the way he was handling the whole situation. He wondered about the statement, he had never had warm water to shower with and he couldn’t understand why the boy wanted it warmer. There was no warm water. Opening the tap again, he tested the water. It was the same temperature it had always been. Looking back at the small body, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

************

The Centre

"Sydney, had a good night out?"

He watched her enter his office unannounced, her dress immaculate as usual. She placed her mug of coffee on the table in front of him, giving him a quick once over.

"You look like death warmed over."

He made his decision, knowing that eventually she will find out.

"Jarod called."

"His umbilical cord is still intact, I see."

Turning, she watched her brother stride into the office, his thumbless hand pushed into his pocket.

"A bit early for you, Lyle. I would have thought you'd still be in bed."

He shrugged her comment off, instead turning his eyes to Sydney.

"So what did Jarod want?"

Parker fumed at Lyle's deliberate disregard for her words, interjecting before Sydney could answer.

"Why are you all of a sudden interested in Jarod's late night conversations with Sydney, Lyle?"

Lyle's eyes shifted from Sydney to his sister's. Taking his hand out, he proceeded to tuck the leather glove tighter.

"I am part of this team, Parker, whether you like it or not. And as such, I am privy to all information pertaining to Jarod's capture."

Smiling at her brother, she folded her arms in front of her.

"Then, if that is the case, why did you leave without us on Tuesday and then failed to come with us when we went to Michigan on Wednesday?"

"Not everything at the Centre is always about Jarod," he answered her in an equally even voice.

Lifting one eyebrow, she grinned at him.

"And here I thought it was always about you."

Keeping his sister's gaze, Lyle's eyes narrowed. The silence thickened until Lyle gave a smirk and turned away. Walking out the door, he turned briefly, throwing one last barb at his sister.

"Be careful, sis. You don't know what I know."

Ignoring her brother's words, she turned to Sydney. His face was impassive where he leaned back in his chair, his gaze centered on her.

"What did Jarod want?" she purposefully emulated her brother, daring Sydney silently not to answer.

"Nothing. We talked about his past and one of the things he relived when he was a child."

"Why do I have the feeling that there is more to it than just reminiscing about the past? What are you not telling me, Sydney?"

He smiled at her, his chin resting on his one hand.

"Parker, trust me. Please. This is something a little more personal and nothing was said that would help you in your search."

She narrowed her gaze at him, before turning and leaving Sydney in his office. She was purposefully being kept out of the loop and she planned to find out why.

************

Mythos House, Michigan

Davey shivered, his hair still wet from the cold shower he had taken. He was dressed in new clothes, a dark blue color that reminded him of his dad's pajamas. He wore slippers on his feet; they made sloshing noises while he walked behind the tall man. They entered a big room, a table with some chairs sat in the middle. Taking the seat he was indicated, his feet hang from the chair. Looking around him, he noticed how empty the room was. Turning his attention to the tall man, he watched as blocks with numbers and symbols on them were emptied on the table. The man quickly moved them into position, and then pointed. Davey remembered the blocks. It was the same ones that the substitute teacher had given them to work out. Looking at them, he wondered where his parents were.

"Davey."

The man's voice was deep and stern. It sort of rumbled from his chest and it made him look at him. Looking at the blocks, he started to shift the blocks randomly around. A huge hand stopped his hands, placing them flat on the surface.

"Do it right."

Ignoring the voice, Davey looked at the strong hand that was placed over his small ones. Taking a breath, he shifted his gaze back towards the other man.

"Where's my mom and dad?"

"Dead."

After all, he was told the truth. Why should it be any different for the boy? Davey shook his head in denial, trying to jerk his hands from underneath his. Pressing down, he held the boy in place at the table. He watched as tears streamed down his face, his screams of denial just starting to form. His other hand rose and he gave the boy just a hard enough slap to have his focus back on him.

"You will do as I say, when I say. You will follow my commands without question. I am your family now. Do you understand?"

He watched the boy nod, hot tears still forming and dripping down his cheeks. Lifting his hand, he pointed at the equation.

"Do it right."

************

Blue water

Jarod grabbed his doughnuts and coffee and in his haste, he didn't check where he was going. He bumped into a blond haired woman about half his size, his coffee splashing over his hand and burning it. He dropped the cup, and the coffee splattered across the floor and over their pants.

"I'm so sorry."

Grabbing serviettes from the counter, his only thought to clean the mess and he failed to notice that she had done the same. His head met hers halfway down. Dropping the doughnuts, he grabbed at the injured area and looked into her laughing brown eyes.

Holding on with one hand to the stricken part on his head, he stretched a serviette-filled hand towards her. When she looked down and started to laugh, he noticed his hand for the first time. Smiling in embarrassment, he dropped his hand to the side. One of the waitresses came over and started to clean the mess he had made. He apologized again, turning and wanting only to disappear out the door, while the woman’s laughter rang like music in his ears. He had taken one-step when she called out to him in a light voice, full of playful banter.

“Wait.”

Turning, he looked at her as she tried to contain the laughter; her eyes bright and full of life.

“At least let me buy you another cup of coffee.”

She reminded him of Zoe in once sense and he was intrigued, his embarrassment making way for interest. He agreed, following her back to the counter, his mess already cleaned by the smiling waitress.

“Hi, I’m Jessie.”

Taking her hand, he smiled. “Jarod.”

“Sorry about the coffee, Jarod.”

“No problem, I think I should have been more attentive about where I was going.”

She smiled a bright, toothy grin. He was fascinated. He had never met any one that easy going and trusting.

“Hey, brown eyes, you still with us.”

Looking down, he noticed the coffee she held out to him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face and suddenly felt like he had no words to say back. Coughing, he took the offered drink, hoping that he wouldn’t embarrass himself any further. He watched her go, standing there with the coffee in his hand, his knees weak and his body burning from where he had touched her fingers. The tingle of the door woke him from his reverie and he ran out the diner after her.

She was nowhere in sight.

************

The Centre

Broots leaned into the screen after having a quick look around although he knew that he was alone in the room. Smiling, he typed away a short sentence before leaning back. Something tickled the back of his head and as he turned he came face to face with Miss Parker. He nearly fell of his chair in fright while he tried to frantically reach for the escape button.

"Leopard pants?"

He finally managed to hit the escape key, while trying to disappear into the chair he was sitting in.

"Uh, Miss Parker, it's not what it looks like…I…"

"Keep your pants dry, lover boy. There's something I want you to do for me."

He rolled his chair out of her heated gaze, his voice cracking slightly when he agreed. She gave a quick look around before lowering her voice.

"I want to know what project the Centre currently rates as more important than Jarod and I want to know what my demented brother's role in it is."

"I…I don't know if…" swallowing when she lifted an eyebrow and leaned in.

"I…I'll try my best."

Smiling, she straightened and left her last parting words.

"Broots, my eyes only."

************

Police station, Blue water

Jarod entered his temporary office, still thinking about the girl he had met so briefly in the diner. He wanted to meet her again and this time have a conversation with her. Smiling at the remembrance of her liquid-filled laughter, he felt upbeat and optimistic for the first time in a while. Placing his coffee on the table, he opened the blinders, allowing the sun to enter the office. Lingering in the slight warmth, he closed his eyes and imagined Jessie again and their chance meeting. He heard his door open and turned away from the window to see Murray enter his office. The detective reminded him of the reason why he was here and he sighed before taking his seat. Murray dropped a brown manila folder on his desk and then seated himself on the chair across him. Glancing at the other, he slowly slid the folder closer and then opened it.

It was a forensics report of the powerhouse where they had found the murdered man. He frowned when he noticed an anomaly on the second page. Making a mental note, he continued to read the folder from cover to cover before he closed the report. Murray was watching him, his hands folded comfortably over his rounded tummy.

"Did you notice it?"

Nodding, he mimicked the other in posture. Murray's light blue gaze bore into his, assessing him and Jarod didn't like it. It reminded him of Raines although he knew that the detective was far removed from the reality of the Centre.

"I want to hear your thoughts on it."

Closing his eyes, he again focused on the anomaly he had read in the report. He examined and disregarded theories, trying to find a logical answer to the problem. Thinking back to when he had picked up the hood, he recalled his shoes crunching on glass. He wanted to test his theory but he needed to get rid of Murray first.

Feigning ignorance, he said, "It doesn't make sense. Why would the murderer forget something like that while his profile suggests that he is meticulous and intelligent?"

"I agree. But I want to know what you make of the evidence."

"The shards of glass are painted black. It could for any number of reasons."

He suddenly had a suspicion that Murray knew the meaning of the glass. Annoyed at the other's attitude he asked the question he knew the detective had been waiting for.

"What do you think it means?"

"Have you ever heard about black light?"

"I'm aware of its properties, yes."

"Then care to explain why he would use and dispose of one when there is no evidence left in the room that suggested that he needed it. The room is clean if you discard the blood and victim's body. Do you think it possible that some evidence might have gone missing?"

The other held his gaze, his face impassive as he asked the question. Jarod could feel his pulse increase. Leaning forward, he took a sip of his cooled coffee, never breaking eye contact.

"Anything is possible."

Murray nodded, rising slowly before leaning onto the table. Taking the folder with one hand, he spoke softly.

"I hope you know what you’re doing, agent Kennett."

************

The Centre

Broots turned to find Sydney standing behind him. He gave a small shriek in fright and jumped back, his hand over his heart.

"Don’t do that."

"Broots, have you made any progress on my request."

Boy, am I popular today, he though. Shaking his head, he was surprised to find Sydney grabbing his arm.

"It's imperative that you find that information for me as soon as possible. Please."

"Is anything wrong, Sydney?"

Turning, Sydney watched Lyle approach them. Loosening his grasp on Broots' arm, he smiled at the younger man.

"Nothing we can't handle, Lyle."

"Are you certain there's nothing that I can do to help? After all, I'm sure you want Jarod back as soon as possible."

"Is this a private meeting or can anyone join in?"

Lyle turned and watched his sister enter the lab. Turning his gaze on the nervous tech, he asked in a smooth voice, "Do you have any new information on Jarod, Mr. Broots."

"Uh, n…no, Mr. Lyle."

Broots was aware of Miss Parker's hot gaze on him. He was aware of Sydney's gaze on him and then there was Mr. Lyle's. Stammering, he made an excuse and started to leave before he remembered that everyone was congregated in his lab. He blushed, standing halfway between his desk and the door, not sure what to do. He was saved when Miss Parker pushed a printout into his hands, directing him to his desk while directing her words at Lyle.

"Why don't you run to daddy and tell him that we don't have any current leads on Jarod."

Lyle fumed at being dismissed like a junior office clerk. He was about to reply when he thought about his present assignment. There would be time enough later for any thoughts of revenge.

She watched him storm out of the lab, before turning her gaze on Sydney and Broots. Pointing at the sheet clutched in the tech's hand, she said, "The cleaners had failed to come up with any significant leads. It's as usual up to us to find him. Have Broots analyzed that piece of paper yet that you took from the apartment, Syd?"

Sydney was surprised. He had thought that he had managed to take it without her noticing. Slipping it out of his pocket, he silently handed it over to the tech.

"You're more observant than I remember."

She smiled at him, "There's all kind of things I notice, Sydney. And right now I want to know why Jarod's call has your guts all twisted and do not throw the psychiatrist confidentiality line back at me. You know that I will find out eventually and it might not be pretty."

Sydney debated his options silently, wondering how far she would go to catch Jarod. Deciding that to give her some information was better than her snooping around, he relented.

"Jarod phoned me a few nights ago regarding a past sim that is starting to haunt him. The conversation isn't that important, but he gave me a word that might relate to his memories. It is raptus, which is Latin for ‘tearing off’. It's the same with last night's phone call. He is starting to recall things that Raines had done to him and it is leaving him vulnerable."

"Why am I not surprise that Raines is involved in Jarod's nightmares." Turning towards Broots, she continued, "See what you can find about this missing project and Broots…don’t get caught."

He watched her leave and then shortly after Sydney. He stood there with the paper and printout still clutched in his hands, the echo of their footsteps retreating. Looking down he suddenly wondered what he had just been volunteered for.

************

Jarod's apartment

Closing the curtains, he made the room as dark as he could. It wasn't dark enough and he made his way to the small bathroom. He closed the door and smiled. This might work.

Grabbing the hood, he took the portable black light he had bought at the hardware store. Adjusting his eyes to the darkness, he felt the oppressiveness of the black around him. Shrugging his feelings off, he pushed the on button. The long UV light shone purple, throwing his white shirt into a glow. Taking the hood, he started to turn it in his hand.

Covering the once side of the hood was the same sign that had been drawn on the paper that had been found in the victims clothes. He dropped to his knees when the sight of the sign threw him back to the day before the DSA he had watched last night.

He watched Mr. Raines as he circled him. He was frightened but determined not to show his fear. He wanted Sydney but he had been told that if he didn't behave that he wouldn't be allowed to see him. Shifting, he tried to find a more comfortable position in the glass box he had been put in.

Then everything went dark.

The night that descended was so black that he strained his eyes trying to see. He was petrified, wondering what was happening. He heard something shift, a small snuffle that screamed out to him. Turning to the sound, he watched the glowing apparition appear against the backdrop of darkness. Harsh whispers filled his box, resounding against the glass.

"You're mine…you're mine…"

The arm reached for him and he shuffled back as far as he could until his back was pressed against the cold glass. A sign drifted on air, glowing bright yellow as white teeth smiled a Cheshire smile. He focused on the sign while he tried to protect himself against what he saw.

It was a crescent moon. On the top point was a circle with a straight line down the right hand side making it look like a lopsided d. On the bottom left hand turn of the crescent were two skew lines that made it look like an upside down v. He had no idea what it meant but he watched that sign grow larger and closer.

He started to scream, calling Sydney and Mr. Raines for help. Something hissed and he smelled sweet incense. He screams died down while his eyes closed.

Jarod woke to find that he was still in the dark bathroom. His breaths came quick and he scrambled to open the door. He ignored the cut that burned from his hand while he fumbled to open the curtains. In his haste, he jerked one of them from the railing, tearing the material. The late afternoon sun shone through, dispersing the nightmare images from his mind. He looked down to find that he still clutched the hood in his left hand.

What had been done to him and more importantly why?

************

Mythos House, Michigan

He tucked in the boy, making sure he was comfortable before locking the door on his way out. He made his way down the street towards the warehouse district. No one bothered him, the homeless and desperate that made their living here had learned quickly that he was not to be messed with.

The phone booth was tucked away in the alley, graffiti sprayed across the handset and inside of the booth. He dialed the number, waiting till he heard the wheezing on the other side.

"I did as you dictated. The boy is settling in and should be ready in a week. He wants to call me a name, what do I say he should call me by?"

He waited patiently, knowing that his mentor would give him what he needed. He had never been called a name and he felt no need for it. Still he waited with a small twinge of hope. It was answered when the other wheezed one sentence before hanging up.

"Tell …him your… name is… Cain."

TBC

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