James parked his Mazda and got out. His mother lived just south of North Avenue. Tucked in behind the Hastings Bookstore, she resided at 2515 Teller Avenue. It was a fairly small house, but it was perfect for her. The only other inhabitant was her cat, Rascal, and the house accommodated the two of them quite nicely.
Recently, there was always one more person in the house, however. This was the hospice nurse, Susan. It always hurt James to see her little blue Toyota parked outside. She would not have been there if his mother had been expected to live for very much longer. Susan was only there to make the end of Gloria Harper's life as comfortable as possible. To James, the presence of Susan was a constant reminder that death was near.
This was not entirely fair to the kindly and plump nurse. She was one of the nicest people that James had ever met. She took great care to make sure that Gloria never had any undue stress in her life. On more than one occasion she had even interfered with James' conversation with his mother in order to make sure that the sick woman got her needed rest. That was why James had not come to see her the previous evening. He had known that Susan would not have allowed it.
He hoped that his questions on this occasion would not cause his mother to fret for fear that Susan would put an end to it before he received satisfactory answers. He walked past Susan's car and up the short sidewalk approach to the front door. Rascal was returning from a jaunt through the neighborhood and greeted him with a demanding meow as they met on the front step.
James regarded the cat coolly. The two of them had a formal understanding of each other at best. Rascal did not like James, and James did not particularly care for the cat. While most cats would purr and rub up against people in their search for attention, Rascal was far more prone to latch his claws and teeth into their legs when they were not looking. It was how he had come upon his name.
Gloria had always joked that Rascal was her attack cat. To James, the little butthead had always just been a nuisance. His demanding meow was not a request for attention, but rather seemed like an order for James to declare his business. James did not feel that he needed the cat's permission to come see his own mother, so he ignored the large grey and white tom and knocked on the door.
Susan came to the door shortly after he knocked and regarded him a lot more warmly than Rascal had. She was wearing an apron, and James could smell bacon and eggs cooking in the background. It was already after ten in the morning, but it seemed that his mother was just now ready for breakfast. She was eating less and less these days, and always waiting longer and longer to start her meals for the day.
"Hello James." Susan said warmly. "It is so nice to see you. I am sure your mother will be delighted to have the company. She has been feeling rather morose lately. Come right in. Are you hungry?"
"No, but thank you." James said. "I ate breakfast a while ago, and I am not ready for lunch."
"Yes, it is late." Susan said. "She did not want to eat when she first got up. I have only now convinced her to put something in her stomach. She is in the living room. Go right on in and I will finish preparing her meal."
"Thanks, Susan." James said and looked down at the cat once more. "By your leave, Rascal."
The cat did not seem to grant him permission to continue on, but he moved into the living room anyway. Rascal glared in his direction, but then he moved into the kitchen in order to see what sort of scraps he could secure from Susan. She was one of the few people that he tolerated because she was constantly supplying him with little goodies to increase the expanse of his large belly.
James went into the living room to where Gloria Harper sat watching television. She had developed a love for daytime soaps, which she had once scorned. She used to say that only housewives with nothing better to do than sit around and get fat liked to follow the stories presented by these shows. She had recently changed her mind. The cancer had taken so much out of her that she had found herself confined to the couch when she was not in bed. As she did not have cable, this had eventually led to her watching soap operas with keen interest.
"Hey, lady." He said. He had called her by the nickname of lady since he was a teenager. He could not remember what had started him on this, but only that it had stuck. She did not find objectionable, but rather viewed his name for her fondly.
"Good morning." She said, her face brightening at the sight of her son. She loved him so much. She had experienced many sorrows in her life, but he had always been a source of joy to her. James was such a good son. "What brings you by today?"
"Well, does a son have need of an excuse to see his mother?" James asked, feigning insult. "The truth is that I need to ask you something. I hope it will not upset you."
"What could you say that would upset me?" She asked.
"I need to know if I ever had a brother." James said.
"You know that you were an only child." Gloria said, but there was something in her eyes that betrayed a sense of alarm.
"I know that I was raised as an only child." James answered. "That does not mean that I am an only child."
"Why not?" She asked, allowing a little ager to seep into her voice. "Do you think I would hide anything from you?"
"I only think you would hide something from me if you thought it would harm me in some way." James said as reassuringly as he could.
"What makes you ask such a ridiculous question anyway?" Gloria demanded.
"I have met somebody recently that has given me cause to wonder about it." James said. He was already afraid that he might upset her with his line of questioning, so he decided to leave the manner of his meeting the individual out of the conversation. He loved his mother and did not want her to be worried about his safety.
"The man bears such strong resemblance to me that I couldn't help but feel like I was looking into a mirror." He told her. "After thinking about it for a while, I started to wonder if perhaps he was either an older brother or a twin. I know it sounds farfetched, but I wondered if he had been raised by dad, while you brought me up."
"That is absurd. Why on earth would I have allowed two of my sons to have been separated?" She asked. James had noted, however, that the mention of a twin seemed to have had a significant impact on her. She was not telling him everything.
"I have no idea why you would do something like that." James said. "I was only saying that it crossed my mind. Look, I really don't want to upset you, but I need to know. I can't really tell you everything, but I feel it is really important for me to know. You see; he accused me of stealing his identity."
"Yes, I imagine that he would say that." Gloria said, her eyes falling down to the carpet. She seemed to have given up trying to feign ignorance of his questions.
"So you know him?" James asked, feeling his hopes rise. If she could provide just a little insight into who this man was, he might be able to use it against his adversary. "Who is he, mom?"
"The wraith." She said so quietly that James was not sure he had heard right.
"Did you say wraith?" He asked as Susan came in holding a small tray of food.
"I am so sorry." She said, and began to cry.
"Mother?" James pressed. "Who is he? Is he my brother? Is he my twin?"
Gloria did not respond. She was really starting to sob now, and James felt regret for pushing her into this. He never liked to see her cry. To think that he had been responsible for it only made him feel worse.
"James, I think you should leave now." Susan said, giving him a stern look. "It is not good for your mother to be this upset."
James nodded and stood. He wished he had been able to get more out of his mother, but it was clear that pressing the matter would not get him anywhere. He said a quick goodbye and then left the house. He did not see a pair of evil eyes watching him as he got into his car. Feeling more despair than ever, he started the engine and tried to think about what to do next.
Wraith watched James leave the house and wondered why the thief had come to see his mother. Was he really so involved in pretending to be Wraith that he even made trips to see his mom? Or perhaps he was trying to learn more about his intended killer. This seemed far more likely to him. The visit had been short, so Wraith did not think that James had been able to learn much from it.
Still, the idea bothered him that James hoped to gain some sort of leverage over him through his sick mother. Perhaps he could not wait for the cancer to take her after all. He knew that it would be granting her favor to end her suffering, and the thought made him feel sick, but sometimes life is about making compromises. Making up his mind, he went to the front door and knocked.
A fat nurse came to the door and looked at him crossly. Wraith did not appreciate her look of judgment. He would have to punish her for that. What gave this stupid nurse the right to look at him so adversely?
"James, I don't know how you changed your clothes so fast, or why you put on that stupid wig, but you really need to leave. Your mother is very upset right now." Susan said. She was very shocked when he yanked the door open and took her by the throat. He shoved her inside and shut the door behind him.
"Shut your vile mouth." He demanded. "You do not get to speak to me like that, you fat, stupid woman. You are weak. The weak would do well to keep silent when predators are about. Otherwise, they draw too much attention to themselves."
Susan's eyes went wide as she struggled for breath. She did not know why James had changed his look and personality so much. She had never seen him act violently at all, but now she was afraid for her life. She tried to scream, but he was too strong. His hand was locked like a vice around her ample throat.
Wraith backed her into the kitchen and saw that she had left some utensils out from the meal she had just prepared for his mother. Among other things, there were a couple of knives. This was perfect as it meant that he would not have to use his own weapons on the stupid woman.
He slammed her back against the counter and backhanded her with his free hand. The blow had such force that it nearly knocked her unconscious. The hit dazed her so much that she went almost limp in his hands. He took her right arm and slammed it down on the counter, pinning it with one hand while he reached for a knife with the other. He stabbed the blade down into her wrist so hard that the point went all the way through and stuck fast in the top of the counter.
Susan was still alert enough to feel the pain and gasped loudly as he did this. She was rewarded with another blow to the face. She did not know why he was doing this, but she was certain now that she was going to die. She was so afraid that she urinated in her pants. She was too scared to be ashamed as she felt the warm liquid trickle down the inside of her pant legs.
Wraith ground his teeth together as he administered the torture. He always did this when he was in the heat of the moment. All of the old feelings of ecstasy, hatred, and power came flooding in. He was breathing hard as he reached for another knife, but this was not from the exertion. He had actually not pushed himself very hard at all. He bared his teeth as he drove the next knife into her other arm, pinning it to the counter.
The fat woman sagged and cried, her weight threatening to pull her free from her state of confinement. She did not cry loudly, only pitifully. Wraith hated and loved her despair at the same time. He could feel her accepting her fate and giving herself over to him. He put his face up close to hers.
"This is why the weak should remain quiet and hidden when killers stalk the area." He said, and then shoved the handle of a frying pan into her mouth as hard as he could. Her mouth had been mostly shut at the time that he did this and several of her teeth were broken off and shoved inward with the handle. The handle itself pierced through the back of her mouth and into the base of her skull.
She was not quite dead. Not yet anyway. Wraith could have finished her off, but he liked the idea of her taking as much time to die as possible. He licked his lips as he looked at her pitiful form. He might have let her live to provide a witness if she had not been so brazen about speaking to him. He hoped that she was aware of the lesson he had taught her as she passed.
With the nurse taken care of, he proceeded into the living room. His mother had heard a commotion in the kitchen and was looking intently in his direction when he entered. She reeled back in shock at his appearance. She knew why he was here.
"Hello, mother dearest." Wraith said, sitting down next to her. He bathed in the feelings coming out of her. She trembled with his every movement. It was altogether intoxicating. His revenge was coming at long last. He licked his lips. "Mmm, bacon."