Dark Corners - Twelve Tales of Terror (25 page)

3.

For the last six hours, Terri had been sitting at her
computer, and for the first time in weeks was writing. On a roll, she
had reached that magical place where the story was writing itself,
and she was no more than a passenger, hurriedly trying to keep up
with the ideas as they formed in her head. This was the feeling she
loved—the joy of pure creation. She had breezed through two
chapters, and was well into the third, when there was a loud nock at
the door.

Blinking away the tiredness, she checked her watch, and
was shocked to see that it was just after five. Now, with the spell
of writing broken, she was aware of her body. She was hungry and
needed to pee. She wasn’t expecting any visitors and was
crossing to the door, when a muffled voice shouted through the
letterbox.

“
Terri,
it’s me. Are you there?”

It was Mark.

She couldn’t face him, not now when she had
finally been able to get some work done. She debated staying silent
and hoping he would go away, but she knew him. He was persistent and
although the last thing she needed right now was to deal with him,
she decided she would rather get it over with. She opened the door
with a sigh of resignation, hating herself for the way her heart
raced when she saw him.

Mark Fife was obviously coping with the separation
better than she was. He looked to have come straight from the office,
dressed in the grey suit she had bought him for Christmas. He was
tan, and she noticed he had cut his hair, his previous long fringed
style replaced by a buzz cut, which only emphasised his chiselled
features. His eyes were blue, and he flashed her his winning smile.

“
I
hoped you would be home. Can I come in?”

“
Now
isn’t a good time, Mark.”

“
Look,
I have something that I need to discuss with you, and I’d
rather not do it out here in the hallway.” He motioned to his
left with his eyes, and as Terri looked out the door, she could see
Mrs. Molde, watching them with a prune-sucking look of disapproval
etched onto her old face.

“
You
have two minutes,” she said coldly before heading back inside.
Mark followed, closing the door behind him to Mrs. Molde’s
disappointment.

Terri stood by the window, arms
folded defensively as Mark looked about the room as if he were seeing
it for the first time.

“
The
place looks… barren,” he said as he flicked his gaze
towards her and sat down on the couch, putting his foot on the coffee
table.

“
I
like the minimalist look. What do you want?”

“
How
have you been?”

She felt anger rising, but held it. She wouldn’t
give him the satisfaction.

“
I’m
fine. I was actually working when you disturbed me.”

“
Good,
I’m happy for you.”

Here
it comes
she
thought to herself as he looked at her intently. She broke eye
contact, trying to ignore the flutter caused by his stare.

“
I
want to come back, Terri. We were good together.”

“
Jesus,
Mark, not this again.”

“
Look,
I know what I did was stupid, and you know I’m sorry. We both
know that you need me.”

“
I
don’t need you, Mark. And I don’t want you. If this is
all you wanted to talk about, then you have wasted your time.”

He stood and approached her, trying to grab her by the
shoulders.

“
Get
your fucking hands off me!” Terri spat, shoving him away from
her.

“
Hey,
take it easy,” he said, flashing his best puppy dog eyes.

“
Just
get out of here, Mark. This is my place. My life. It doesn’t
involve you anymore, not since you fucked that whore!”

“
Hey,
come on. I already told you I’m sorry! Alicia meant nothing to
me. I was confused! How many times do I have to say it?”

“
Just
get out of here. I don’t have time for this.”

He grinned, sitting back down on the couch.

“
No.”

“
What
do you mean
no
?”

“
I
mean no. This is
my
apartment, Terri. I gave you time to get over what happened, but if
you won’t take me back then you’re the one who’s
going to have to leave.”

“
I
can’t believe you. This all happened because of you,” she
said, trying to hold back her tears.

“
Look,
I’m not trying to be a dick here, Terri. You know that you need
me, and it doesn’t make sense for us to live apart like this.”

She strode across to the door, opening it so forcefully
that its handle dented the plaster as it slammed into the wall.

“
Just
go. Get out of here!”

He stood slowly, brushing the creases out of his suit.

“
You
had your chance, Terri. I did my best to make you see sense.”

“
Out!”
she raged.

“
Relax.
I’m going,” Mark replied, holding his hands up as he
sidestepped her.

“
Don’t
forget your box of crap either. I don’t want you coming here
again.”

She kicked the box by her feet, watching as he picked it
up slowly and backed out the door.

“
This
isn’t over, Terri. I want you out of my place. Don’t make
me take things further. You know what I can do.”

She did know. A lawyer by trade, Mark had many slimy
friends in the legal profession. He even knew a few less than
straight judges who would ensure he didn’t lose if he decided
to take things further.

“
That’s
right, kick me when I’m down, you son of a bitch. You know I
have nowhere to go.”

“
Then
take me back and we can put this behind us. You know it makes sense.”

“
I
wouldn’t have you back if you were the last man on earth. Even
if it means I have to sleep on the damn streets. I hate you.”

He flashed that winning grin again and shrugged his
shoulders.

“
Your
loss, Terri. I want you out by the end of the month.”

She wanted to scream, but restrained herself. Instead,
she slammed the door closed, not caring if Mrs. Molde heard. She
leaned on the door, and was doing all she could to hold back the
flood of tears when she saw the box on the table. Fuelled by a fresh
wave of anger, she stormed across the room, snatched the box off the
table and returned to the door, barging out into the hallway. Mark
was still there, waiting for the elevator.

“
And
you can stop sending me this shit!” she raged, and was about to
throw it, when she saw the bemused look on his face.

“
I
didn’t send you anything. That’s not from me.”

Feeling foolish, she held onto the box and watched as
the elevator chimed its arrival. Mark stepped in, then poked his head
out the door.

“
I
meant what I said, Terri. End of the month.”

The
elevator chimed once more and the doors closed, leaving Terri
standing alone in the hallway.

4.

Back inside the apartment, her anger and sadness were
replaced by curiosity at the red velvet covered box. She sat on the
couch and set the box on the coffee table. She didn’t like the
way the velvet felt on her fingertips; it felt fleshy and slick and
somehow alive. It had an ominous aura about it in general, and gave
the strange sensation that it was watching her just as she was
watching it. It was ridiculous of course. Nothing more than her
over-active imagination. She reached out, lifted off the velvet lid,
and looked inside.

Inside was another box. This one made of wood with a
hinged lid. She removed it carefully, reminded of those Russian
Matryoshka stacking dolls.

Box in a box in a box.

She set this new smaller box down, eying it carefully.
It looked to be made of birch or pine and the faint odour of old wood
polish reached her nostrils. Other than the hinged lid, it had no
other significant features or markings. She realised then that she
had been holding her breath, and as she let it out slowly, wondered
why her heart was beating so fast. Chewing her lip, she reached out
to the box and opened it, half expecting something to leap out and
grab her. It took a moment for her brain to process what she saw.

The box contained a button.

It was surrounded in the same red velvet as the outer
box, and was circular with a red top. Below, printed in red on a
white background was an instruction of sorts. It was comprised of two
simple words.

Erase All.

She leaned forward to take a closer look, and saw a
small folded piece of paper tucked into the underside of the lid. She
fished it out carefully, anxious not to touch the button itself. The
note had been hand typed, and she could see imperfections where the
ink hadn’t fully printed onto the paper. She read the four
lines, then read them again.

Terri.

This button does exactly as it says.

When you feel like you have had enough,

Simply
press it and
everything
will go away.

She turned the box carefully on the table. There were no
wires, no battery compartments, no visible means of powering it. She
shook her head, wondering if she was the victim of an elaborate
practical joke. She tried to guess which one of her friends would do
something like this, but the more she considered it, the more
unrealistic the thought became. None of her friends would have done
this. She decided to call Jane about it, and to apologize for
standing her up earlier.

Why not just press it?

She
paused as the thought popped into her head and hovered there, waiting
for a response. It was a good question. She didn’t believe
anything would happen of course, but there was still the great
what
if
factor that she,
with her writers mind, was particularly vulnerable to. Without taking
her eyes from the box, she took her phone out of her pocket. She had
switched it off earlier in the day as per Bob’s suggestion, and
now as she turned it back on, she saw the twelve missed calls and six
voicemails that had been left. She looked at the box, and the box
looked back.

5.

She hadn’t slept. As she stood in front of the
bathroom mirror a little after five in the morning, at the time when
the dark of the night and coming of the new day are balanced
perfectly, she forced herself to look past the dark rings under her
bloodshot eyes, and to ignore the pale white hue of her complexion.
She tried desperately to look within, to find a way to pull herself
together.

If I were a man, I would be starting a pretty good
beard by now.

The
thought made no sense, and its randomness frightened her. She felt as
if she were clinging onto her sanity only by her fingertips. She
closed her eyes, trying to rid her mind of the anguished voicemails
left by Jane’s mother. Her words would haunt Terri forever, as
would the guilt and the huge void that had had opened in her life.
Unable to stand looking at herself any longer, she walked to the
balcony, hoping the fresh air would clear her head. It was
wonderfully quiet, and as she watched the contrail of an airliner
arcing across the sky, she wished that she was on board, heading
somewhere far away. Looking at the street below, she marvelled at how
peaceful it was. Traffic was sparse, and aside from a few individuals
heading off to start the workday early, it was graveyard quiet. She
wondered for a split second if the world would miss her if she
climbed over the balcony and jumped.
Would
it hurt?
She
shivered in the cool morning breeze, and tried to shake off the
morbid train of thought.

Heading back inside, Terri was surprised to see the
answering machine blinking, signalling a new message. She hadn’t
heard the phone ring, and wondered if she might have actually dozed
off during the night without realising. She quickly crossed to the
machine, and played back the message.

“
Terri,
it’s Bob. I uh, I’m not sure what time it is there, damn
time zones always confuse me. Anyway, just letting you know that this
meeting was a damn waste of time, and I’m heading back early.
I’ll swing by your place in around six hours, which will be
somewhere between eleven and one on your time. So if you could have
those new pages ready, I’ll take them with me and try to buy us
some more time. See you soon, bye.”