A Vandal Unmasked

The apartment door slowly creaked open, and the silhouette of a broken man emerged at once from the darkness of the corridor. He hurried across the threshold and swiftly closed the door behind him without making even the slightest sound. He rushed to the window, and, with trembling hands, he pulled back the torn drapes and lifted the decrepit window open. A sudden burst of ice-cold wind swept across the room and extinguished the only burning fire, leaving every object surrounded by a feeling of sheer coldness and of terrible dread. The man shivered violently as he peered out of the tiny window and into what seemed like a city of turmoil.

The city was in a state of total uproar. People seemed to be scrambling about in confusion and fear, rushing into their houses in hopes of saving themselves. Police carriages were scattered all across town, trying to restore order amongst the bewildered civilians. All street lanterns and homes were lit, creating an aura of dazzling light consuming the city. A faint yet rather distinct noise penetrated the silence of the midnight sky.

“A siren had been blown?” the man thought to himself, starting to grow worried. “Surely not! They would not do such a thing…Not under these circumstances…” he muttered under his breath, attempting to reassure himself. However, the more he listened to the sound of the terrifying alarm, the less convinced he became. His heart beat grew faster and faster, pounding ever more vigorously with each passing second. “They’re after me! They are surely after me! Oh, you have done it this time, you idiot…” he mumbled angrily to himself, allowing countless nasty insults and pessimistic ideas to slip through his trembling lips.

The man had collapsed, becoming trapped in his own mind, his own thoughts, losing all consciousness of the world around him. He could hear nothing but his own croaky voice, shouting unfathomable remarks, as if in some never-ending delirium. Not even the bone-chilling breeze assaulting his sweaty face was enough to break his daze. He trembled in fear, tossing and turning on the hard wood floor below him.

“Damian? Damian!” he heard an unfamiliar voice call out, however, despite his tiring efforts, the disoriented man could not locate the source of the mysterious shriek. He could see nothing but darkness. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved.

“Damian!” the voice grew terrified, screeching ever more loudly, but when he searched again, he could detect nothing. The cry continued without refrain, becoming more powerful with every passing screech. “Damian! Wake up! Wake up, I say!”

Slowly, the man started to regain consciousness and his surroundings arose from the depths of the obscurity that had originally consumed it. A figure became more and more apparent with every passing second. It was that of a woman. She was swelled with fear, trembling relentlessly. Her skin was pale, frail and ice-cold. Her eyes, distressed and disturbed, released numerous tears that swept across her anxious, pain-stricken face. She clutched her husband’s arms firmly in her sweaty hands, shaking him vigorously, wishing impatiently that he would wake.

Once Damian was fully alert once more, he stood up and cried “Elizabeth!” with relief and happiness, forgetting reality altogether. However, it took no more than a mere couple of seconds before Damian recognized the distant sound of the siren and became full of anxiety once again.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” she started saying thankfully before her voice turned hard and bitter. “The alarm…it’s your fault, isn’t it?”

“Aye, I believe so,” he replied, ashamed of what he was saying.

Elizabeth grew furious, “What don’t you understand, Damian? Why don’t you ever learn?”

“Don’t you get started with me!” he threatened, in a most menacing tone. Damian crossed the room and stormed into the kitchen. With a violent swift of his hand, he swung open one of the broken cabinet doors, took out a bottle of brandy and poured himself a glass full of the beverage. He then shot it into his mouth, swallowing the entirety of the glass’s contents in one gulp, and smashed the empty cup against the wooden counter top, before turning to his wife.

“Look, I know exactly what we are to do. Tonight we shall simply rest ourselves. The authorities will not begin their investigation until late tomorrow morning, so we shall wake up at the crack of dawn and…”

“We?” Elizabeth interrupted at once. “We? I’m sorry, Damian. I cannot do this…”

“What do you mean?” he inquired. “All we must do is prepare our belongings. Forget this place. It’s aged, falling apart piece by piece. No one will have to know. Tomorrow morning, the train shall leave at a quarter past eight. We can simply board it and start life anew in…”

“No, it’s not that…” she hesitated, her voice becoming more unsettled by the instant. “What I mean to say is that…well…I refuse to go with you.”

“Certainly you do not mean that,” he said, his tone unconvincing and shaky. He lifted the bottle of brandy to his face and started swallowing its contents until only a quarter of the beverage remained. He then set the glass container down, staggering shortly in place.

“You…whatever do you mean by such a remark?” he asked ever so furiously and impatiently. “Huh?”

“Well…I…I mean…” she greatly hesitated, breaking down into a series of sobs shortly afterwards. Her hands covering her shameful face, she dropped down to her knees and pleaded, “Oh please, my love, you must understand. I grow weary of traveling amid cities, amidst countries. You must understand! There must be some other way…”

Damian recognized a trace of fear and incompetence within her heartfelt words and grew enraged, becoming overcome with horrific fury and irrationality. He quickly consumed whatever had remained of his drink before smashing the bottle on the floor in front of his innocent wife. It shattered into billions of glass pieces upon its collision, spreading out all across the apartment floor. Upon seeing this, Elizabeth knew she had done it this time. Fear had seized the better of her spirits, and not only did she understand exactly what was in store for her, but she felt as though her own chances had been destroyed, smashed to pieces as well.

Elizabeth remained paralyzed, as though she had been caught in some eternal daze. She no longer felt pain, even as hundreds of glass splinters tore through her ripped, ragged clothes penetrating deep down into her fragile skin. She didn’t cringe, nor did she whimper. Instead, she looked up at her husband and felt her hope being drained from her soul as she stared into his lustful, bloodshot eyes, searching for forgiveness. Alas, she found nothing but confliction. She thought for a second, wondering where the man she had first fallen in love with had gone. He used to be a most cunning, most charming gentleman, who lent her his hand in times need, but that he was no longer. Misery and fear transformed this man, changing everything there ever was about him, turning him into the vengeful, twisted-minded demon now towering above her.

Damian gripped his undefended wife by her hair and pulled her up so that his resentful eyes met her emotionless face. He struck her, assaulting her frantically with his menacing hands until blood streaked across her face. He then threw her aside, tossing her against a sturdy brick wall. The poor, crippled woman staggered, trying with great effort to scramble to her feet, but she had not the strength to do so. Instead, she turned over on her side and sobbed relentlessly.

This sight struck Damian, as his rationality gradually vanquished his rage and insanity. In moments, he was feeling nothing but pain, sorrow, regret; dreading the very suffering he had bestowed upon his loved ones. A tiny tear drop streamed across his heart-broken face and was felt rolling off his nose.

Damian, realizing he could no longer do anything else, slowly headed for the door of his apartment on the tips of his toes. He swung it open carefully, not wishing to disturb his beloved wife. He drew in a great heap of air and heaved an enormous, painful sigh. Under his shaky breath, he whispered: “I’m sorry, my dear, but your life will be much better without my company…” He shot her one last glance, seeing her writhing in pain on the floor, and blew her a frail kiss before he crossed the threshold one final time and disappeared into the shadows of the narrow corridor, never to be seen again.