Hearts of Darkness, Part XII

David thought about the man in the garbage and his fighter of a dog, as the scenery outside transitioned from abandoned businesses and liquor stores to luxury boutiques and grocery stores. The bus took them even further past that, and eventually, when things got too nice, they were back to walking.

David was dressed comfortably, but even if he was jogging his attire would not have been confused for workout clothes. Jarvis looked out of place from head to toe.

“On your left,” the large man said, but didn’t stop walking.

David turned his head to look across the street. He saw the gates of a closed community, thick and iron, but beyond it there were the flashing lights of police cars.

“Walter Lancaster,” Jarvis said. “Was a man of great means. He had nothing left to consider in his life but how long it would take for him to die, despite his excess.”

David watched the people passing by in their cars watch the two of them. He thought about the friends of his family, and their means. He thought about his own family.

“He wanted me to make him what I am,” Jarvis said. “I refused. Walter Lancaster was the kind of man that believed he could control people, because so many things had turned in his favor before.”

“Those men had something to do with that,”

“They were sent by him.”

“Wait,” David said, stopping. “You even killed this Walter Lancaster person?”

This time when Jarvis stopped, he turned around before he spoke. “I did. But not because he asked me, and I refused. Because he was behind the killings.”

David was struck again, things in his mind that he knew, or had at least been told and believed, were torn down.

Jarvis held his stare. It was particularly effective because the man never seemed to blink. “Were they normal killings, I would have abided, but he designed them to call out to me. In doing so, he was attracting the attention of others.”

David felt the old urge draw breath. He had been completely healthy for days, such was his constitution. His father had lied, but he was not wrong. There was something wrong about Jarvis. In Jarvis. The stench was there, too, but something let him pull back on the leash. “So you killed him because he threatened,” and David looked around, trying to see all of Bay City, or at least understand what it was.

“Yes,” Jarvis said. “What would you do with forever?”

David picked his head up, but Jarvis was already walking away.

“So now you know. There are those in this city who know of us, and our character. Some are like us, most are not. You have chosen the nightmare. There is no hiding. You see them. They see you.”

David spun a slow circle, in the present and in the past. He wondered back through every conversation and interaction, for clues to separate the bystanders from the ones Jarvis spoke of, the Walter Lancasters.

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