Lyle heard the distinct metal click of a guns slide slamming home behind him and the assumption that he was alone in his one bedroom apartment vanished.
“My dear friend Lyle, who would have thought I would see you again after all these years?”
He remembered the voice like a child remembers the first nightmare which causes them to wet the bed and run to their parents room for refuge. Such a traumatizing situation latches on throughout the mind and when the child becomes an adult they must still check the closet for the monster. A creature of the darkness whose sole purpose is to haunt them when they feel the most secure. This voice has plagued Lyle for seventeen years. As if he was in an inspirational story, he turned to face his demon.
“Stop right there friend, keep facing your desk or my finger may slip.” Lyle froze, his body half turned toward the direction of the voice. His heart wanted him to be strong, to be confident, but his mind knew that if he turned to face this demon of his, his face would be forever burned into his mind as he left this world. Lyle turned back to his desk.
“Good. Now dear old friend, I have but a simple question deserving of a simple answer. Where is my daughter?”
Lyle swallowed as the blood in his veins became ice.
“You are not going to like my answer.”
“Tell me where she is.” He screamed. Bumps rose up on Lyle’s skin as his bladder released. The tone was deep and it reverberated in his chest. The same tone echoed in his nightmares, the ones he tried to forget for the past seventeen years but couldn’t. It had bore deep into his mind, making the darkest memories its permanent residence. He was scared before but now every fiber of his body shook with terror. Then came a whisper inches from his ear.
“Tell me or you can warm my seat in hell.” Every wall and barrier Lyle had erected over the past seventeen years was demolished.
“Her address is 9412 Suncrater Drive in Kendrick Arizona.” He managed through uncontrollable sobs. Tears now burned his eyes and rolled down his cheeks to the stack of poorly written essays spread out on his desk.
“I knew I could count on you old friend.” His voice no longer held a hint of anger. It almost seemed sincere and caring.
He tried to say something between sobs but couldn’t manage the words. After a few moments he wiped the tears from his eyes. Lying inches from him on the stack of essays was a picture, old and discolored with creases from being folded over and over again. Lyle had never seen the picture, but now he had a face to the voice. The hammer fell. He could finally relax, Kain had returned and this living nightmare was over.
Mile 29 