The Darkest Obsession

You are a murderer Laurent! I slammed the door shut behind me as I leaped into the quiet dark space that was my home. My hands were still trembling as I stumbled across the path leading to my bedroom door. It was just seconds away but it felt like minutes. The whole of my body burned from the way they had held and pushed me around. I was at the entrance of the room when my legs gave out and I fell on my knees, scraping the skin at the surface. He wasn't breathing. I had checked for a pulse and I didn't feel one.

The air around me suddenly became thick. I clutched the front of my dress as I struggled to breathe. It wasn't a nightmare this time. This was real. I had taken a man's life out of my foolish desire for clarity. For a glimpse of the unknown. My eyes burned as I struggled and failed to keep the tears from falling, my breath coming out in short painful gasps. I didn't deserve to cry. I didn't deserve whatever natural relief from pain the human body had. All the oaths I took, the training, my pledge to the country...I destroyed everything in minutes. I was no different than a cop under the influence of the Black Rose. I screamed as I slammed my right hand in a fist on the ground I knelt on.

"No...no...no" I stammered as the tears came streaming down my face. Why did it have to go down this way? I just wanted to know. To know why I had been so unfortunate.

"Why was I the only one left behind!?" I yelled, my voice raw and breaking at how loud the scream was. Why didn't I burn in the fire with them? Of what use was I to the universe? I slammed my fist again against the ground. I slammed it again. And again, till I felt it go numb from pain. I slammed it till I saw the skin split open and blood seep from it. I slammed it till my arm gave way and I couldn't lift it again.

There had been so much blood. I still remember the jolt of shock that went through his body the moment I plunged the knife into him. He went still as he stared at me with wide eyes that slowly faded away.

"I didn't mean to." I choked out, as if saying it aloud might make it true. But I had meant to. In that moment, with the knife in my hand and fury in my veins, I'd meant every second of it. I saw the Maestro again, but at what cost? I didn't get or find out anything of reasonable use. I didn't find anything that could help the station pin him down and capture him. I didn't get any other information of the Black Rose other than what I already knew. It was a fruitless action. One that cost me.

I looked down at my trembling hands. I'd scrubbed them raw against that man's jacket, but I could still see the crimson stains embedded in my skin, under my fingernails. Evidence of what I'd done; I killed someone tonight.

A strangled sound escaped my throat as I curled into myself, hugging my knees tight against my chest. "I'm sorry." I said to no one in particular as I rocked back and forth on the tiles.

"I'm so sorry." I didn't know who I was apologizing to. The man that still laid unmoving on the concrete floor? My parents? To myself? The universe? Maybe if I begged a little harder, I'll be free from it all. From the pain and hurt I keep causing for myself. Maybe if I prayed for days I might just get what I want, eternal peace.

The words echoed in the emptiness of my apartment, bouncing off the walls and coming back to mock me. Sorry wouldn't bring that man back. Sorry wouldn't wash the blood from my hands. Sorry wouldn't do anything! It was a useless word created and offered to helpless people, to try and soothen their pain. And that was the only thing I could offer right now. So I stayed there, in my own filth, rocking back and forth and muttering the word 'sorry' more times than I could remember.

I didn't know how long I stayed there, crumpled against my door, crying until there were no tears left. Minutes? Hours? I wasn't sure as I lifted myself up slowly and walked into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind me.

‎The silence in my apartment was deafening. No ticking clock, no humming refrigerator, nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing and occasional hiccup. I felt hollow, emptied out. Like someone had scooped out everything inside me and left nothing but an echo chamber for my guilt.
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‎My phone buzzed somewhere in the pile of clothes I just pulled off. Kyle, probably. Or maybe Ava, checking if I made it home. I couldn't face either of them right now. How could I look them in the eye, knowing what I'd done?
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The light that filled the bathroom made my eyes burn, squinting a little so I don't get blind. Mechanically, I began to undress, dropping my blood-stained clothes into a pile on the floor. I'd have to get rid of them, burn them probably. What have I done?
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‎I turned the shower on, making the water as hot as it would go. Steam quickly filled the small bathroom as I stepped under the spray, hissing as the scalding water hit the bruises forming on my skin.
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‎The water at my feet turned pink, then red as it washed away the evidence of my night. I scrubbed at my skin until it was raw, trying to wash away not just the blood but the memory of what I'd done. The knife, the resistance as it pierced flesh, the look of shock on his face. For the first time in years, I wished for this to be a dream. Maybe it was just another dream in another that felt realistic. Maybe I'll be heaving soon as I struggle to breathe and recall where I was. Maybe this wasn't real.
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‎By the time I stepped out of the shower, my skin was bright red and my fingers were pruned. I wrapped a towel around myself and padded to my bedroom, not bothering to dry off properly.
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‎My bedroom was just as I'd left it this morning, my properly made bed, the heap of case files I'd kept on the table beside my bed.
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‎I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts, then collapsed onto my bed. My body ached all over, and my mind was too exhausted to think anymore.

As I lay there in the dark, one thought kept circling in my mind like a vulture. I'd crossed a line tonight. Stepped over something I couldn't step back from. And somewhere out there, the Maestro, the man I'd been hunting, knew it too.
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‎He'd know by morning that his men had failed. That one was dead by my hand. What would he do? Come after me? Send more men? What if they weren't his and they were just random junkies? Oh Lord.
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‎At that moment, I realized I didn't care. Let him come. Maybe that's what I deserved.
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‎Sleep came quickly, dragging me under into a darkness deeper than the one filling my apartment.
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