An All Consuming Hunger

The hallway is dark and cold as I slip down it. It smells of mildew and mold, and the scent seems to be clutching at my nose. Every muscle in my body is tense as I hold my defensive pose. Gun hand underneath, other arm lengthwise on top. Ever since the police academy. Never changed. I reach another door and flick it open. Nothing. The hallway seems endless. I flick open another door, the last one on the floor. Empty. I reach up to my walkie-talkie and turn it on with a crackle.

“There’s nothing on floor fifteen. I checked all the rooms and they’re all completely empty. I’m on the stairs now, heading up to sixteen.” A young African-American woman’s voice cuts through.

“ Chet, there’s not much time, and what you’re doing isn’t policy. You need to come back. We’ve evacuated the building, and all you’re doing now is putting your and Shane’s lives in danger. He’s trailing behind you, if it goes off he’ll die with you.”

“ Tell Shane to go back. I don’t need him.” A deep voice cuts in.

“ I’m not leaving without you, Chet.”

“ Dammit, Shane! Just go back! This has nothing to do with you.” I take the stairs two at a time as I head for the door labeled sixteen.

“ Chet, he could be gone by now. There are two flights of stairs. He could be down the other one and out the building.” Floor sixteen was identical to floor fifteen, even with the same number of doors. Darkness permeated the entire level, making it hard to navigate.

“ No, I know him. He’ll still be here.”

“ Chet,” says Sadie, “ the countdown clock has ten minutes left and there is a police perimeter and police in the building. Unless this guy is suicidal, there is no way he is still in there. He escaped, just like every other time.”

“ No, Sadie, it’s different this time, I can feel it.”

“ Chet, if he is still there, he will die when the bomb goes off. If he’s not, he won’t. There is nothing you can do to change any of this. I understand that you feel personally about this, but you need to come back.” Shane interrupts.

“ I’m not going to keep coming. I’m waiting on thirteen, I won’t go until you are with me.”

I turn off the walkie-talkie. Sadie is right, no matter how much I hate it. I promise myself that if I get to the end of the hallway and there is nothing, then I’ll turn back. There are now only five doors left. The first one is empty. The second has a damaged and dirty bed. The third is empty. The fourth is empty. My heart starts to pound. One more door. I step up to it. It’s closed. I flick it open. Inside, there is a chair and a card table, but nothing more. My heart sinks, but I promised myself, and Chet Walker is a man of his word. I walk towards the exit door and open it. I start down the stairs. I go down three flights and step on to the landing for level thirteen, where I know Shane is waiting for me. But yet, I still find myself stepping back on to the first stair. He could still be up there.

Just leave, Chet! It’s not worth it.

I can’t. I need to catch him. Make him pay.

This is stupid. Sadie already told you, if he’s up there, he’ll die.

I know, but I need to do it.

No Chet, you don’t.

He killed her!

Let it go, Chet. We’ll be fine. We’ve been fine through all this, we can be fine for a little while longer.

But it hurts.

Shhh. I know it does. Just come off the stairs, yes, just like that. Go to Shane.

I step off the stairs and for the second time, I walk towards the door to level thirteen. My hand is on the handle. I’m turning it. I see Shane through the glass, back turned. And then my phone buzzes in my pocket. I let go of the handle and it clicks softly back into place. I reach into my pocket and take out my phone. It’s a call from (424) 918- 2132. I tap to answer and bring the phone up to my ear. A serrated voice seems to flow from the speaker.

“ Oh, Chet. Leaving so soon? I’ve been waiting for you for ages, and I think we’ll have a simply delightful time. Haven’t you always wondered what I did with Katherine? All those years and they still can’t find her. So sad.” The voice switches to a happier tone. “ But if you come up, I’ll tell you. Don’t worry about the bomb, I’ll pause the countdown, a special favor just for you. See you soon! Don’t forget, floor eighteen!” Then the connection cuts out and my phone falls silent. I step away from the door and back onto the stairs, I start up.

No, Chet!

I want you to shut up right now. STOP TALKING!

Chet, it’s a lie, it’s not true!

SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE ARE GOING UP THE STAIRS AND YOU WILL NOT STOP US.

Chet, you’re out of control-

I DON’T CARE!

I sprint up the stairs to floor eighteen, taking the stairs three at a time. But on the landing, I hesitate. And then I step through. The hallway is dark again, and again, it smells of mold and mildew. I start down the hall. I open the first door. The room is empty. Only a few cabinets on the wall. The second door is the same thing, except with an empty desk. Next comes a room with a dirty mattress and a worn-out armchair. For several rooms after that, they are empty. Then I come to one that is completely closed. I reach for the handle.

It’s not too late. Turn back.

No. I’ve been waiting for this for years.

It’s a trap.

That’s how he thinks it will go.

That's how it will go if you don’t turn back. And never mind it being a trap, vengeance is wrong. This is bad, not good.

No. You’re wrong. This is completely, utterly good. The only sin is not doing what pleases you.

Hush. You can’t say such things. God might hear, and then where will you be?

I take a deep breath. My hand closes on the handle. I turn it. I open the door. I step in.

Idiot. Look what you did now.

Shut up. We're, like, this close.

My breath catches in my throat. The room is filled with paintings. Beautiful paintings. There are some people, some buildings and parks. They are stunning. Amazingly detailed, and incredibly realistic, with vibrant colors. Some hang on the wall, and some lean. An easel dominates the center of the room, with a chair in front of it. There are jars of paint and brushes lying around, but the painting on the easel is covered with a cloth. I step towards the painting covered by a cloth, and reach for it. Just as my hand is about to touch it, I hear footsteps behind me and the same raspy voice says, “ Hello there, Chet.” Then there’s a sharp pain in the back of my head and everything goes black.

I feel woozy as I swim back to reality. I can feel my arms tied tightly to something hard and cold. I force my eyes open. Flashes of light explode behind my eyes, and my head is in agony. I’m bound tightly with ropes to a folding chair. I’m still in the paintings room, but across from me there now sits a man in a rumpled plaid shirt. I try to reach for my gun, but then realize that the man is holding it and is fidgeting with it. He looks up at me and smiles.

“ You’re finally awake. I’ve been waiting for you, you know. A whole fifteen minutes you’ve been out.” He laughs suddenly. “ When I hit you, you went down almost as hard as that one plane did when I set the bomb off. Now, that was a good time. I could almost hear the little people screaming.” I strain against the ropes. They don’t give. “ Oh, and by the way, Shane won’t be saving you. He came up while you were out. I think it was my messiest kill by far. Who knew that a man could have so many different organs? And blood too! He went straight to the deep freezer. I even had to change out of my favorite shirt.” I jerk against the ropes, just wanting to be away from this horrible man and his raspy voice.

“ Let me out of these ropes, you bitch.” The man’s eyes harden.

“ Oh, Chet. Let’s not be like that.” He rises and presses the end of the barrel against my temple. The gun clicks. Then he chuckles. “ No, we’ll keep you around a little longer. I think we’re gonna have just loads of fun, won’t we? Yes, we will.” He sits back down. “ So you wanted to know about Katherine? I don’t know if I should tell you. ” The words burst from my mouth before I can stop them.

“ No, please! Tell me. You promised.”

“ Getting desperate already? I should just slit your throat to put you out of your stress. Stress isn’t good for you, you know. There are these things called telomeres. Every time you get stressed, they wear down a little. It takes a lot of times, but once they get worn down enough…”

He makes a cutting gesture across his throat. “ Bye-bye Grandma.” He laughs. “ Are you stressed right now? Not yet? Still hoping someone will come save you? Guess what. They won’t. You see, what you did, coming up here, wasn’t policy, which you already know. And as you also already know, I have a bomb, and I’m ready to blow it up. So, even if they wanted to, they couldn’t send anyone because that wouldn’t be policy either. And no one can come up on their own because they wouldn’t be police, and only police are allowed in the perimeter. And the police can’t come to save you on their own, because it’s not policy. You don’t even have your walkie-talkie, because I crushed it.” He smirks. “ So we have time. One might say we had all the time in the world. That’s a lot of time, wouldn’t you say? So while we’re up here, I’ll tell you about my paintings. Pretty, aren’t they? They took a while. About six hours for each one, actually. I paint one after each killing. See right there. That’s Danny DeVere. I set his house on fire. That one is Leslie Summers. I ran over her at an intersection. That’s Elysian Park. I set a bomb on the playground. The boom was really nice.” I strain in my ropes when he turns to look at another picture. I can almost reach the knife in my belt, but not quite. I stretch until it hurts, but the ropes are too tight. He’s still talking, but I’m not listening. “ Do you want to see my painting of Katherine?” That jolts me back to the reality of the situation. “ It’s under the cloth on the easel. I set it up right there on purpose since I knew you would want to see it. But we still have all the time in the world.” He steps over to my chair and holds the gun to my head again.

“ Let’s play a game. I like games. They’re fun. Didn’t I say we would have a fun time? What if I told you that you didn’t have all the time in the world? What if I told you I would pull the trigger in ten seconds? Would you want to see the picture right now then? I can see it in your eyes. The answer is yes. What if I told you all that, but there was no picture? You would die desperately wanting something that didn’t even exist. But isn’t that what we all do? The quantity of money we want. There isn’t that much money in the world. The number of friends. Sorry. Not enough people in the world. The amount of nature we want to destroy. Sorry. Not enough square footage on the planet. The number of people we want to oppress. Sorry. Not enough minority groups on the planet.” His voice drops to a whisper as he leans in closer than he had ever been before. “ Even you, Chet. All the times you looked at a black man on the street and assumed he was dangerous. Every arrest you made for not liking the look of the car. Every woman you’ve looked on with a desire to consume. Every single thing you’ve done with yourself in mind and not your fellow humans. It’s bad, Chet. It’s really bad. So think of me like this. If there is justice in the world, then I’m just sending people where they’re already going. I’m just doing it early.” I feel something pop in my wrist. “ If there is not, then I’m taking on that responsibility.” He lowers his gun. “ So now I ask you, Chet. Are you deserving to live? Even after all that you’ve done? Think of every terrible act you’ve ever committed. Every sin. Death would be a mercy, would it not?” He stands there, with a sad look in his eyes. He can’t see me sawing through the ropes on my hands. I’m almost there. I’m halfway through the last rope she looks back at me and what he says almost tears me open. “ You said you wanted to know what I did to Katherine. But the truth is that it wasn’t me. Not really. I posed her the same question, and she chose death.” His voice becomes barely audible. “ Embraced it. Will you do the same? Will you embrace the consequences of your actions? Or will you just keep consuming? Keep destroying? Keep lying to yourself that you’re a good person? Katherine chose rightly. By the time I was done with the speech, she was practically falling onto the knife. She requested that her body be crushed and shredded and thrown into the river. Not me. It was because she said that she didn’t even deserve a burial slot. I think she even-” But he stops. All while he was talking I’d been sawing, and now I explode out of my chair, laying a powerful one-two directly into his face. He sways, trying to regain balance. Then I knee his abdomen, and he doubles over. I slam a blow on the back of his head. He drops the gun and goes down like a rock. I pick up the gun as he lays on the ground moaning. I bring it down to his head, finger on the trigger.

No Chet! Stop!

Be quiet. You don’t know how hungry I’ve been for this moment.

This isn’t you. This is something else.

No. It’s me. You've just been too blind to see it. Now get out of the way.

Chet. She wouldn’t have wanted this.

As I hold the gun on him, he rolls over.

“ Even now,” he says in a breathy voice. “ You still hunger. I can see you hungering for vengeance. Come now, take it. No one will stop you. Fulfill yourself.” My finger twitches on the trigger. But I can’t pull the trigger. It’s like something is stopping me. Holding me back. “ Shoot. I dare you.” He smiles. “ Pussy. You can’t do it, can you? Man up, Chet. Pull the trigger. Are you afraid? Come on, Chet. You have it in you.” I have to. I turn my head, close my eyes… And I do it. I pull the trigger. The blast rings through the room. I slowly open my eyes and turn back to him. “ Well. I’ll be damned. You did it.” Why is he still there? Why is he still smiling? “ You idiot,” he murmurs. “ The gun needs a bullet to work. But we had fun just like I said. That was fun. Maybe you-” Before he can say another word, I crack him on the head with the handle of my gun. He passes out immediately, and I cuff him up. Then I slide a bullet into the gun and point it at him. I put my finger on the trigger the same as last time. But I can’t do it. I can’t shoot. I slide the gun back into its holster. As I bend to pick up the man, I remember that the painting of Katherine is under the cloth. I reach for the cloth but decide not to look at the painting. I like my version of Katherine better than his. As I walk out of the room with Katherine’s killer on my back, I am filled with a sense of triumph, but somehow a sense of emptiness as well. A single tear rolls down my cheek as I let the door close behind me. I don’t look back.

Sssh. It’s fine. We’ll be fine.

No. He cheated us. The gun wasn’t loaded.

But aren’t you glad with the decision you made in the end?

I know I should be, but then why do I feel so empty?

What do you mean?

Now that we stopped the killer, what is my purpose? How do I fill this hole in my heart?

You remember. Remember Katherine. Remember the time you spent together. Remember your love for her.

Will that really help?

I don’t know, but it’s better than doing nothing, don’t you think?

Yes.