Shades of Gray (P.O.V.)

This is a scene inspired by a similar one that occurs in the novel I'm currently writing.  I wasn't so much interested in the actual plot as I was in the varied character viewpoints.  This is, essentially, the same story told four times from a different point of view.  Enjoy.

Gray Erickson

         “No!” I cried in the night.  I sat up quickly, my bed drenched with sweat.  The nightmare had come again, but as usual, it had changed.  And this one truly disturbed me.  I jumped out of bed, my adrenaline still flowing.  It was late, but there was no way I’d be getting back to sleep tonight.  I slipped out of my damp clothes and got dressed.  As I did so, I looked in the mirror.  My unnaturally silver-grey eyes darkened a few shades to dark pewter.  I hated my eyes.  They’ve always been a visible reminder of how different I am to everybody else.  A knock came from my bedroom door. 
         “Gray?” Hannah’s voice was tired and muffled from outside by room.  “Are you alright?”  Although she was my aunt, she had been the only mother I’d ever known.
         “I’m fine, Mom,” I replied, opening the door.  But, Hannah was smart.  As soon as she saw my concerned face, she knew I wasn’t fine.
         “You had another dream,” she said without asking.
         I sat down on the bed and answered, “Yes, but this one was different.  Before, I had nightmares from when I was a baby.”  I’m not like other people.  I don’t know why.  Hannah says that God has a special purpose for me, that all things happen for a reason.  I wish I could believe her.  All I know is that I’m truly alone in the world.
         Among other things, I have a photographic memory, but it had failed to reveal what happened that night.  I’ve been told that when I was five months old, my mother was carrying me and my father, intoxicated, shot her.  Although I was only five months old, he was afraid of me.  And I knew why, but I never wanted myself to see what he feared.
         “I remember,” Hannah said, breaking me away from my thoughts, “you could never finish that dream.  You always woke up before you saw what happened after.”
         “I remember everything else,” I replied, “everything I’ve ever done or learned.  I remember all of it.  But what happened that night...it’s like I don’t want to remember.”
         She put her arm around me.  I took some comfort in the action.  I knew she loved me.  She adopted me the day my mother, her sister, died without a second thought.  “What about the dreams you’ve been having lately?” she asked.  “Can you explain those?”
         My stomach was tied in knots.  “I saw another murder,” I said simply.
         “What to you mean another murder?” she asked, pulling away so that she could look me face to face.  “What did you see, Gray?”
         “Is everything okay in here?”  My uncle Elliott stuck his head into the room.  I wasn’t as close to him as I was to my aunt.  He wasn’t as accepting of my uniqueness as Hannah.  “Did he have another nightmare?” he asked my aunt groggily.
         “I don’t think they’re just nightmares,” I answered instead.  “I think I’m seeing the murders right before they happen.  It’s like I’m looking through the murderer’s eyes as he kills them.  The victim has changed every night for the past four days.”
         “What?” Elliott asked, incredulously.  He gave a disbelieving snort.
         “Elliott!  Let him talk,” Hannah said sharply.  She always defended me, even when it came to using my ‘gifts’ as she called them.  Elliott wanted me to hide for the rest of my life.  People, he said, would never accept me as I am.  Hannah disagreed.  She always wanted me to learn how to control them.
         “No,” Elliott shot back.  “Seriously, we know he’s telekinetic.  He can move things with his brain.  We know his eyes change to different shades of grey depending on his mood.  And we know he’s got a good memory.  But, being telepathic?  Come on, that’s going a little too far, don’t you think?”
         “Why do you think they are real, son?” Hannah asked, ignoring my uncle.
         “Because,” I responded quietly, “every single one of them has come true.”
         “What?” Elliott asked, still skeptical, but I could sense some anxiety coming from him also.  “How do you know that?”  He began to pace the room.
         “They’re the Reaper murders,” I answered simply.  “I have the dream at night.  The next morning I watch the news.  The person I saw in my dream is always the next person to die.”  I began to recall the dreams I wanted to forget.  “They were all the same in a way, though.  Anger and hatred were always there.  Whoever is killing these people is enraged, but he’s also afraid.”  Elliott tensed up when I mentioned the Reaper.
         “Afraid?” Hannah asked.  Elliott paced the room, listening quietly.  Something had definitely bothered him and I knew why.  “Why?”
         “I don’t know really,” I replied, watching him.  “All I know is that as soon as he saw the victims’ faces, he felt afraid.  That fueled his anger.  It is revenge he’s seeking, but he’s also defending himself.  It’s strange.”
         “But what’s the connection?” Hannah asked, glancing between my uncle and me for a suggestion.  He simply shrugged.  Something had gotten to him, and he and I knew why.
         “They were all geneticists at Genetech,” I said, not taking my eyes off of Elliott.  He had been an employee there for many years before being mysteriously fired.  “I can’t find any other connection.  If there is anything further, it has long been erased.”  I approached Elliott.  “Something else is bothering me though, about the next victim.”
         “What’s that?” Elliott asked me nervously, crossing his arms across his chest.
         “It’s you,” I explained.  “The Reaper is coming for you next.”  Before anyone could say another word, a violent quake rocked the house.  It was as if a wrecking ball had smashed through the building. 
         “What was that?” Hannah asked, gasping in shock.
         I focused on the door, swinging it open before I even reached it, and charged into the dark living room.  A large hole had been knocked into the front of the house, moonlight filtered through the dust in bright beams.  Furniture and debris was scattered across the floor like a bomb had exploded. 
         Hovering there, in the center, was the Grim Reaper.  He was dressed in a long, flowing black robe and in his white, bony hand he clutched a reaper staff with a menacing scythe blade at the top.  His face was hidden within the shadows of his hood.  I had seen many men die at the hands on that creature. 
         Hannah and Elliott had followed me.  Hannah screamed and Elliott told her to run.  She didn’t argue.  He had told me to leave also, but I wanted answers.  This thing that had attacked my home was just like me.  I could sense the mental power flowing from him.  That was why we were connected.
         “Elliott Erickson,” the Reaper said in a forbidding voice.  “Prepare to pay for your sins.  Death has come for you this night.”

Hannah Erickson

                It was happening again.  I heard his screams from down the hall.  The quieter ones were muffled by the walls between us, but I knew what was happening.  Gray was having another nightmare.  He’d had several when he was younger.  The strange power of his mind could quake our entire house during each one.  Even now, slight shuddered rippled through out home.  I thought about leaving him alone, letting him deal with it himself.  He could take care of himself.  But, a mother’s love is sometimes stronger than her will.
                “Gray,” I said softly outside his door.  I could hear him stirring just inside.  The dream had awakened him again.  He hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep for the past week.  “Are you alright?”
                “I’m fine, Mom,” he answered through the door.  I could hear the exhaustion in his voice.  He wasn’t fine.  He just didn’t want me to worry.  I broke my heart to know that there was nothing I could do to help him.  Even though I had raised him from when he was a baby, he still was a mystery to me.  We could never really figure out why he was so different.
              “You had another dream,” I said as soon as he opened the door.  There was no need to ask him.  He’d had one almost every night this week.
He nodded and took a seat on his bed.  His pillows were drenched with sweat. 
              “Yes, but this one was different,” he replied.  “Before, I had nightmares from when I was a baby.”  He sat there for a moment, deep in thought. 
                I could see the loneliness in his eyes and knew he wasn’t coping as well as he let on.  Ever since he was a young boy, he’d always wondered what his place was in this world.  Why was he so different?  Like any mother, I wanted desperately to answer his questions.  So, I told him what my father told me.  “God made special people for special reasons,” I said.  “All people had a reason for being the way they are, no matter how different they were.  We’re all given different gifts to use in life.  And use them we must.”
         “I remember,” I spoke softly, “you could never finish that dream.  You always woke up before you saw what happened after.”
         “I remember everything else,” he said, “everything I’ve ever done or learned.  I remember all of it.  But what happened that night...it’s like I don’t want to remember.”  He sounded frustrated.  He wasn’t used to not having answers.
I put my arm around his shoulder to calm him.  His muscles relaxed and his eyes closed.  He knew I loved him.  He was my son, even if he was my biological nephew.
                “What about the dreams you’ve been having lately?” I wondered.  “Can you explain those?”
                He swallowed hard and was visibly shaken.  “I saw another murder,” he said quietly, as if he were trying to keep himself from throwing up.
         “What to you mean another murder?” I asked, pulling away so that I could look him in his silver-grey eyes.  Their color had changed.  They were darker now, more of a pewter color.  The shades of grey in his eyes had started to react to his mood when he was five years old.  I still hadn’t gotten used to it.  “What did you see, Gray?”
         “Is everything okay in here?”  My husband, Elliott peered into the room sleepily.  I had hoped I hadn’t awakened him.  “Did he have another nightmare?” he asked me.  He had never been accepting of Gray and I could never understand why.  We had both agreed to adopt him.  For quite a while, it seemed like his job at Genetech took a priority over this family.  It always seemed like he was on a mission every day he left for work.  His boss, Ivan Durke, wasn’t a good man and treated him like a man who owed him a favor.  Elliott always seemed like he carried this great burden.  I had always hoped he would tell me one day.  I’m still waiting.
         “I don’t think they’re just nightmares,” Gray answered quickly before I could reply.  “I think I’m seeing the murders right before they happen.  It’s like I’m looking through the murderer’s eyes as he kills them.  The victim has changed every night for the past four days.”
         “What?” Elliott asked, incredulously.  He gave a disbelieving snort.
         “Elliott!  Let him talk,” I snapped.  He was always cynical when it came to these kinds of things and it irritated me.  He knew about Grays powers, but he always wanted him to keep them hidden.  But, I knew that the only way Gray would stay safe is if he understood and could control them.  Elliott and I’d had many arguments on days when he came home to find Gray levitating things.
         “No,” Elliott snapped back.  He was upset that this was interrupting his good night’s sleep.  “Seriously, we know he’s telekinetic.  He can move things with his brain.  We know his eyes change to different shades of grey depending on his mood.  And we know he’s got a good memory.  But, being telepathic?  Come on, that’s going a little too far, don’t you think?”
         “Why do you think they are real, son?” I looked to Gray, not paying any attention to my husband.  If he didn’t want to deal with this, he could just go back to bed.
         “Because, every single one of them has come true,” he spoke quietly, as if saying it would doom someone else to die.
         “What?” Elliott asked.  He still didn’t believe Gray after all we’d been through with him.  “How do you know that?”  For some reason, he started to pace back and forth in Gray’s room, concentrating on God knows what.
         “They’re the Reaper murders,” Gray replied plainly, his eyes locked onto Elliott as he paced.  “I have the dream at night.  The next morning I watch the news.  The person I saw in my dream is always the next person to die.”  He paused for a moment, deep in thought.  “They were all the same in a way, though.  Anger and hatred were always there.  Whoever is killing these people is enraged, but he’s also afraid.” 
         “Afraid?” I wondered.  “Why?”
         “I don’t know really,” Gray stated, still staring at Elliott.  Something was bothering them both and it was beginning to make me nervous.  “All I know is that as soon as he saw the victims’ faces, he felt afraid.  That fueled his anger.  It is revenge he’s seeking, but he’s also defending himself.  It’s strange.”
         “But what’s the connection?” I asked looking between them, hoping one of them would fill me in.  Elliott didn’t know, or at least he shrugged and continued pacing.
         “They were all geneticists at Genetech,” Gray answered me, focusing on his uncle all the harder.  My stomach tied in knots as I began to understand what he was hinting at.  “I can’t find any other connection.  If there is anything further, it has long been erased.”  He stood up to look Elliott in the eyes.  “Something else is bothering me though, about the next victim.”
         “What’s that?” Elliott wondered anxiously, crossing his arms across his chest.  Though, I suspect he already knew the answer.
         “It’s you,” Gray stated.  I could hear the fear in his voice.  He didn’t want his uncle to die any more than I did.  “The Reaper is coming for you next.”  Suddenly, a violent quake rocked the house. It was just like when Gray was younger, but much, much more powerful. 
         “What was that?” I gasped, my own fear taking hold now.  I tried to be strong for my son, but I just couldn’t.
         Gray rushed out of his bedroom, using his powers to swing open the door.  Elliott and I followed quickly behind.  I wasn’t going to let Gray face this danger alone.  We arrived at the living room to find that the front wall had been completely destroyed.  Floating like a ghost in the center of that massive opening was the shadowy figure of the Grim Reaper.  Whatever it was, it was truly terrifying.  Any lingering courage I had within me was gone.
         Elliott grabbed me by the arm and pushed me towards the kitchen.  “Hannah, you’ve got to get out of here!” he ordered.  I wanted to argue, but couldn’t.  I hated myself for leaving my husband and son to face this threat alone.
         As I fled out the back door, I heard a sinister voice speaking, “Elliott Erickson.  Prepare to pay for your sins.  Death has come for you this night.”

Elliott Erickson

                I was awakened that night by Hannah leaving the bed.  I heard her down the hall, checking on Gray.  I sighed as I rolled over to try and sleep again.  It was probably another nightmare.  He’d been having a lot lately.  I thought about checking on him myself, but I figured he didn’t want me there anyway.
              We weren’t really close, Gray and I.  It was my decision, and it was the hardest one I’ve ever had to make.  He was in danger.  Ivan Durke, my boss at Genetech, was keeping a close eye on him.  Gray was a subject in an experiment entitled the ‘Genus Project.”  His title was Genus One, the youngest subject.  He was one of only two survivors.  The rest died slowly.  When the project came under scrutiny by the FBI, Durke temporarily disbanded it.  Gray’s father, Henry Alleroy, was allowed to take him home under the agreement that he would tell no one.
              Suffice it to say, Henry began to suspect that Gray was different as the boy aged.  When he cried, the whole house shuddered.  One night, after drinking too much, Henry loaded his hunting rifle in order to protect the world from his son.  What he didn’t expect was Gray’s mother Anna’s interference.  She knew Gray wasn’t normal and defended him to the end.  Henry’s first shot fatally wounded her.         
              The second shot was held in place inside the gun by Gray’s powerful telekinetic powers.  The rifle backfired, scaring Henry for life.  He’s now in prison.  Hannah and I adopted Gray not too long afterwards and Ivan knew this.  Once I learned of Gray’s abilities and Ivan’s involvement, I decided to get as close to my enemy as possible.  Unfortunately, the distance between Gray and I only had grown.
              It had been several minutes since Hannah had gone to check on him.  Something didn’t feel right.  “Is everything okay in here?  Did he have another nightmare?” I asked with a yawn.  Hannah was seated on Gray’s bed, comforting him.
              Gray answered my question instead, “I don’t think they’re just nightmares.  I think I’m seeing the murders right before they happen.  It’s like I’m looking through the murderer’s eyes as he kills them.  The victim has changed every night for the past four days.”
         “What?” I asked, trying to sound incredulous.  The truth was that nothing about Gray’s mental powers surprised me.  I was there at Genetech the day Genus Two escaped.  He was powerful, but, worse than that, he was highly unstable.  The experiments had caused irreparable brain damage and he was very dangerous.  Gray had many of the same abilities, who’s to say he couldn’t be telepathic?
         “Elliott!  Let him talk,” Hannah snapped.  She was tired too, but I could tell she shared the same concern as I did.
         “No,” I replied.  I had to play the part of the unsympathetic father.  I had to play it dumb.  If either of them knew the truth, it would be dangerous for us all.  “Seriously, we know he’s telekinetic.  He can move things with his brain.  We know his eyes change to different shades of grey depending on his mood.  And we know he’s got a good memory.  But, being telepathic?  Come on, that’s going a little too far, don’t you think?”
         “Why do you think they are real, son?” Hannah asked Gray, deciding to ignore me.  Good.  The less focus on me, the better.  Still, I hated that I had to lie to them.
         “Because, every single one of them has come true,” He replied quietly.  His voice quivered slightly as he spoke, as if he were about to be sick.
         “What?  How do you know that?”  I wondered.  I knew the answer and it bothered me.  I began to pace the room as I thought.  I always did that when I’m anxious.  No!  This wasn’t happening.  I didn’t have anything to do with the experiments.  I was just a witness, a pawn in Ivan’s plans.  Why would he be after me?
         “They’re the Reaper murders,” Gray answered my question, confirming my fears.  I could feel Gray watching me as I paced his room.  He was a bright boy.  He was beginning to put the pieces together.  I wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from him much longer, and I feared what would happen when he found out.  “I have the dream at night.  The next morning I watch the news.  The person I saw in my dream is always the next person to die.”  He paused for a moment, deep in thought.  “They were all the same in a way, though.  Anger and hatred were always there.  Whoever is killing these people is enraged, but he’s also afraid.” 
         “Afraid?” Hannah asked.  “Why?”
         “I don’t know really,” Gray said to her, keeping his silvery gaze locked onto me.  “All I know is that as soon as he saw the victims’ faces, he felt afraid.  That fueled his anger.  It is revenge he’s seeking, but he’s also defending himself.  It’s strange.”
         “But what’s the connection?” she questioned, glancing between the two of us.  I shrugged.  I just couldn’t tell her yet.
         “They were all geneticists at Genetech,” Gray replied.  So, he had figured it out.  My stomach was in knots.  “I can’t find any other connection.  If there is anything further, it has long been erased.”  He stood to look me in the eyes.  “Something else is bothering me though, about the next victim.”
         “What’s that?” I asked him, my anxiousness coming through in my voice.  I knew what he was going to say next.
         “It’s you,” Gray stated simply.  I could hear the sense of betrayal in his voice and it broke my heart.  I was just trying to protect him.  “The Reaper is coming for you next.”  Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the house.  He was already here. 
         “What was that?” Hannah jumped up with fear in her eyes.  It seemed uncharacteristic of her to show fear.  She was such a strong woman.  She was the only reason why I had the strength to go on everyday, and why I had the strength to do what I had to do next.
         Gray rushed out of his bedroom, using his powers to swing open the door.  We followed behind him.  Gray was powerful, but I knew he couldn’t defeat this threat.  We came to the living room to find the ghastly form of the Grim Reaper standing in the center of the hole he’d blown in the front wall of my house.  Only I knew that he was no angel of death.  Beneath that dark hood was a madman with more power than he deserved.
         I grabbed Hannah by the arm and lead her quickly towards the kitchen.  “Hannah, you’ve got to get out of here!” I told her.  This wasn’t going to be pretty.  She didn’t need to see what was about to happen.  “Gray, you have to leave too!  He’s only after me!” I shouted, but I doubt he heard me.  He was intently focused on the figure before him.  That’s why he had the nightmares, I realized.  Their minds were connected in some way.
         “Elliott Erickson,” Genus Two spoke in a horrid voice.  “Prepare to pay for your sins.  Death has come for you this night.”

The Reaper

                My task was almost complete.  The night was calm and cool.  The sky was filled with stars.  I could have stared at them for hours.  I rarely get to see them anymore.  But, there was no time for that now.  I had a job to do.
                I stood on the roof of my next target, clutching my staff.  There were only a few of them left now.  Soon, they wouldn’t be a threat to anyone else.  They would pay for what they did to me.  Because of them I endured years of pain.  I would only be a matter of time before I would kill the architect of the Genus Project.  But, the Reaper had to pay someone else a visit this night.
                I used my telekinetic powers to slowly drift down to the ground.  A light came on in one of the bedrooms.  The action startled me.  Was I expected?  I had been to this house before.  Elliott Erickson was going to be one of my first targets.  His proximity to Ivan Durke was no secret to me.  But, there was something strange about this place.  There was an almost familiar presence here.
                I slowly crept past the window.  There was a woman speaking to a boy inside.  No doubt, they were Elliott’s wife and son.  Not long ago, I would have had enough remorse to keep myself from continuing, but things were different now.  Still, there was something familiar about the boy. 
                The door of the boy’s bedroom opened slightly and Elliott stuck his head inside.  “Is everything okay in here?  Did he have another nightmare?” he asked the woman.  I could barely hear their conversation through the glass.
                The boy’s response surprised me, “I don’t think they’re just nightmares.  I think I’m seeing the murders right before they happen.  It’s like I’m looking through the murderer’s eyes as he kills them.  The victim has changed every night for the past four days.”  Nightmares?  This home would be the fourth one I’d visited in as many days.  Is it possible this child knows what I’ve been doing?  No.  It can’t be.  He’d have to be a telepath.  He’d have to be like me.
              Quite suddenly, I realized the truth.  I wasn’t the only survivor of the Genus Project.  I hadn’t seen anyone else during my escape from Genetech.  They must have kept him somewhere else, somewhere secretive.  The boy’s presence here was no surprise.  Elliott’s job must be to monitor his development.  This woman must be a new addition to the project.  The experiment was still going on, despite my efforts!  My goal was clear then.  First, I would have to rescue this child.  Then, I would eradicate Ivan Durke.
              “It’s you,” the boy was saying as I moved around to the front of the house.  “The Reaper’s coming for you next.”  This child was perceptive.  I focused my powers and blew a hole in the front of the house.  I hovered there in the mist, waiting for my prey to come to me.
              Surprisingly, the boy rushed in first.  Our eyes locked as Elliott forced to woman out through the kitchen.  No matter.  She wouldn’t be difficult to find.  This boy was like me.  He even had the same, haunting silver eyes.  I could tell that this child sensed the same power in me as I did in him.  Then, I noticed Elliott coming up behind him.  He knew what happening.
              “Elliott Erickson,” I said, disguising my voice to incite as much fear as possible.  “Prepare to pay for your sins.  Death has come for you this night.”
“Wait!” the boy cried, standing between me and Elliott.  “Who are you?”
“Silence, child,” I replied, trying to stay in character.  All would be explained to him later.  “My quarrel is not with you.”
              “As long as you’re in my house you have a quarrel with me!” he retorted.  I sighed silently.  They had brainwashed him.  There was no other reason why he would protect that monster behind him.  The project had been perfected.  They had their weapon.  The only way to save him now was to end his life as well.
              “Very well, boy,” I stated coldly, before swinging my scythe at him.  He was more powerful than I expected.  My attack was halted inches from his neck my some invisible force.  He had mastered his telekinesis also.  I tried in vain to resist the power of his mind, but the wooden staff of my blade splintered and broke in two.  He let the scythe drop to the floor.
              “Now I want answers, Reaper?” the boy asked angrily.  “Why are you after my uncle?”
              I dropped what was left of my staff and lowered the hood that concealed my face.  I could sense the shock he felt as he saw my grey eyes, a little darker than his.  I ignored his question and looked to Elliott, “I see you’ve been at work again, Mr. Erickson.”
              The boy turned back to him, “Elliott, what’s he talking about?”  Elliott didn’t answer at first.  He just stood there looking at the boy.  I sensed something in him I did not expect:  sorrow.
              “Tell him the truth, Elliott,” I prodded, “if you dare.”
              “Tell me what?” the boy asked.  Elliott didn’t reply.  “Tell me what, Elliott?”
              Teary eyed, Elliott dropped to his knees and began to answer, “Gray, I’m sorry…”

To be continued…