To Corrupt Man

Phoenix Crawford wasn’t a bad guy. Sure, he cussed. He also sped, drank, and smoked a few packs a day, but didn’t everyone? He had never considered rape. Never contemplated murder. However, tonight, he had done both.

He stood, watching his fiery handiwork as he puffed smoke at the jet-black sky. Not a star shone through, denying the criminal any light save for the embers of his cigarette and the burning timbers, which was all that remained of the once-peaceful home on Jackson Street. Bending low, he covered his shaved head with his hoodie, taking one last desperate draw on his Marlboro. He spit the cigarette at the house, and then turned to look at the dying oak, still clinging to life after a hundred years.

Annie Alderson, a young brunette fresh out of college, once lived at this address. She was instantly recognizable in her favorite lilac dress. Phoenix had enjoyed seeing her traipse around in the tight-fitting thing. But staring now at that same dress, hanging low on the oak as it blew in the night breeze, he felt disgust. How he wished he could swallow the thing in some great conflagration.

But ‘I’ would not let him. ‘I’ only permitted Phoenix to suffer, and would do anything to prolong its current host’s misery.

“You should be thanking me,” ‘I’ said, always through Phoenix’s mouth. “Forty-thousand dollars in your pocket will get you any girl you want.”

Phoenix reached into his pocket, pulled out the forty-thousand dollar cash wad, dropped it into the shoebox he found it in, and threw it toward the burning house. “I’d rather die first.”

‘I’ shrieked. “You are all such vile creatures. You never know what you want. But you are so easily persuaded.”

“At least we don’t use people,” Phoenix said as he went back to staring at Annie Alderson’s dress.

“Oh contraire,” ‘I’ said. “If your race were as pure as you say it is, scenes like this would not be so common.” With that, Phoenix unwillingly gestured at the fallen house, still smoldering.

‘I’ did not find it difficult to take over and influence Phoenix. But sometimes, ‘I’ found enjoyment in Phoenix’s petty arguments and doings. Still, ‘I’ had complete control over the unlucky victim, wanting this victim to be as miserable as possible. This, combined with ‘I’’s lust for money, was what prompted ‘I’ to will Phoenix to rape, kill, and burn his girlfriend’s house to the ground. After recovering the forty-thousand dollars she had buried in her garage, of course.

Phoenix, who always needed his nicotine fix every time ‘I’ became active, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his cigarette lighter, intending to once again light up. However, ‘I’ had other plans.

Moments after Phoenix retrieved the lighter, the old dry oak burst into flame, erasing any memory Phoenix had of his girlfriend. The dress that had so often filled his life with meaning and pleasure now fell to the ground in a pile of charred ashes.

“You need to trust me,” ‘I’ said. “I always consider and act upon your will. When I see fit.”

“You’re too kind.” Phoenix opened the door on his rusty pick-up truck and drove off, the full moon acting like a spotlight on the snake-like road.

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The headlights faithfully illuminated the cliffside highway, but Phoenix wished he could douse them. Midnight lovers frequented these highways and Phoenix did not want any of them to suffer the same fate he and his lover had.

But he knew the effort would be futile. Even if Phoenix could shut the lights off, ‘I’ would force them back on almost immediately. But maybe, just maybe, the second of darkness would spare one young couple’s life.

Or perhaps, Phoenix thought, the greatest reward of all was freedom.

Just thinking about death sent his thoughts racing toward the glove compartment. Carefully wedged beneath bundles of useless maps and magazines was a loaded pistol and a warm can of beer, which was a deadly weapon when it came to ‘I’’s coherence.

But Phoenix quickly brought his mind back to the road for fear that ‘I’ was listening in.

Suddenly, Phoenix unwillingly parked near one of the many unpaved ledges that jutted from the cliff wall. This one in particular sported a low-bent tree, which, for tonight only, shaded a homeless man from the moon’s glare.

Perfect, Phoenix thought.

“Yes, he is perfect,” ‘I’ said, licking Phoenix’s lips. “He looks like a strong individual and has no family. I need him. I really need him!” ‘I’ screeched and he launched Phoenix (and, consequently himself) through the windshield.

But Phoenix was quick to snatch the gun from the glove compartment.

He unwillingly rushed at the man, but it was of his own accord that he pulled the trigger. Never, under normal circumstances, would he have shot the man. But sometimes, the bid for freedom overrules normal behaviors.

‘I’ was hysterical. A perfect puppet lay splayed on the ground, with a hole in his forehead. Wasted.

“This is why I control you,” ‘I’ said as ‘I’ repeatedly bashed Phoenix’s head against the tree. “Wasters of life should not be granted free will.”

“Then why do you still have yours?” Phoenix said as he ripped his mind away from ‘I’’s firm mental grip. He sprinted toward the ledge, preparing to launch himself at the forest below, ending ‘I’’s strong hold over him.

But ‘I’ held him to the ledge, sending rocks flying as ‘I’ braked Phoenix hard.

“Because I know what is best for you,” ‘I’ said as Phoenix slowly and methodically raised his gun. “I make you stronger. Is that not what you want, Phoenix?”

“I want you out of my head!” With that, Phoenix rested the gun against his chin and fired.

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“Dispatch we’ve arrived at the speed trap, over. Discovered an abandoned pick-up, license plate TZ-3524, along with two dead bodies, both appearing to be male. Requesting forensic team immediately.” Officer Keith Rile shut off the police radio and stepped out of the patrol car with Officer Toni Soranto following close behind.

“First homicide Soranto?” Keith said as he tossed his coffee cup over the ledge.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, shuddering at the bullet holes as the dried blood slowly cracked in the sun. She almost wished she had seen something like this before. Almost.

“This guy must’ve been asleep when Al Capone over there,” Keith said pointing to Phoenix, “shot him. Shot through the heart. Messy entry wound. Appears our killer was running while firing.”

Toni knelt beside Phoenix’s limp body. She tilted his head back and examined the entry wound on the lower jaw. When she saw the pistol in his right hand, she knew. “Must’ve shot himself after killing John Doe over there. Tragic.”

Suddenly, Phoenix’s dead mouth opened, allowing a swarm of black particles to flow out and into Toni’s nostrils. Toni gasped and keeled over, clutching her head as the invaders transferred from the nostrils to the brain, preparing to take control of her body.

Toni screamed. Her eyes turned bright red. Her body convulsed, terrifying her partner. Then, as suddenly as the mysterious symptoms began, they stopped. Toni now stood completely still, like a soldier awaiting orders from the commanding officer.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“I,” ‘I’ said, getting used to speaking through Toni’s lips. “I am your master. I am your will. I am your strength. I am you.”

“Toni?” Keith said as he fingered the base of his gun, ready to shoot his partner if she did something threatening. He felt as if he was in the middle of an old eighty’s horror movie, witnessing demonic possession first hand. “You okay?”

‘I’ turned Toni to face her long time partner. When Keith saw his partner’s blood-lust in her eyes, he ran for the police cruiser. ‘I’ screeched at the futile attempt. “Kill him.”

Toni un-holstered her gun, not missing a beat. “Yes, master.”