Into the Last Stages

It was this grief that Frank felt deep down in his heart when he learned of Sharon's death, and it had been so grief that his mind had stopped. All that he did hours ago at Silverton river, all that he said, were merely to escape the nagging guilt that sapped at the base of his life. He couldn't process a single thought without experiencing the the piercing agony of guilt and sorrow. He knew this guilt, which wrapped around him, clinging to him like tendrils, had come to stay, and would be his abiding companion for the remainders of his immortal days—until he found his death in a body of water. And this was the very bane of his life, one that plagued far more than anyone he could ever think of. But there wasn't much he could do now to quell the raging storm in his head. He just had to keep living with it anf hoping that soon he would get the closure that he badly needs.

Frank couldn't easily have considered death now, but a month ago, after his first acquaintance with the lethal power that water wielded, a power so enormous and destructice that it could snuff out an immortal life—something that neither fire or any other thing could do—he had had a change of focus, desiring life after water had provided some clarity which opened his eyes to the thanklessness of suicide. Whether this change of focus had been his own making or the sadistic force that controlled his life, Frank did not know. This change of focus saw him chasing after enemies, both real and phantom ones, because such chase, such hunt, had become central to his life—the only thing that now mattered to him. And even now, after all the noble human emotions had back to him, he still had an overriding hankering to hunt his enemies down, all over people—particularly that old man—and rend their black hearts in two.

But since he learned of Sharon's death, that hankering had given way to the piercing grief that formed a tether around his neck. He knew he had to see Sharon's place, one last time at least, and cry on her face and beg for forgiveness. He knew he alone was responsible for her death, even though he knew it wasn't really his doing, but the force he believed that controlled his life. Frank did not know what colour his life would take after he saw Sharon's face and made peace with her memory—if that was possible. All he wanted now, right now, was to see Sharon face. And damn! The doctor, whoever she was, had informed him matter-of-factly that Sharon's body had been interred just few after she died. Unbelievable!

Frank appeared on a busy road in Bariga, Lagos, the town Sharon lived, less than a second after he vanished from his apartment in Leadville. It was still very early, around 5 A.M., but since it was Lagos, the road was already filled with people and traffic, and different noises of bus conductors touting for passengers. Frank was overwhelming disappointed. What happened today? He had willed himself to appear right at Sharon's apartment but here he was, on the road, about 500 meters away from the compound where Sharon lived. How come? Frank wondered. Had he been getting weak, thus gradually losing his power? Had grief affected the powder of his will? What was happening now? How would it be if he lost the power to vanish? How would his life turn out to be? Would he come human again, like his was before? Was he slowly becoming mortal again?

Frank knew he didn't have much time to think or waste. He had to go to Sharon's apartment so that her neighbours would take him to the hospital that she had been rushed to before she died. If truly they her body had been interred, God help them! He knew he would kill if he found out that Sharon had already been buried. No! He couldn't imagine it. He knew he must see her face and cry beside her body and plead for forgiveness, before finally joining her in the land of the death—through the all-powerful hand of water. Now that he now thoughr as a mere mortal, now that love is back, now that he now felt grief for another person apart from.himself, he knew there was practically no way he could continue living when Sharon was no more. He knew it was impossible.

Frank was trotting towards Sharon's apartment in that eaky morning darkness, moving away from the busy road and entering the quiet street which, surprisingly, had nobody in it, when he heard voice behind him.

"You again!" the voice said.

Frank turned in the darkness and because his vision could not be impaired by the darkness, he saw the person's face clearly. The person was standing just few meters away from him.

"Maria!" he said with genuine surprise.

"What are you doing in Lagos at this time of the day?" Maria asked, "Are you restless like I am? Have you left your home in Leadville searching for answers. But you're not like me, you're not a wandering, restless spirit. So why—"

"Hold it!" Frank said, raising his left hand. "Where's your baby?"

"I lost it."

"What do you mean you lost it?"

"I heard what you did at Silverton—you killer my uncle, your bastard!"

"Answer my question."

"What question, you heartless killer!" she spat, "You murder my uncle and spared my mother-in-law! Was that what you said? You promised to avenge me and you didn't do that! Instead you massacred innocent people and spared the evil one!"

Frank wanted to speak but he hesitated and watched her helplessly. Then quietly he said: I just lost someone that mattered most to me in this world. I'm sorry about your uncle; it wasn't really me who carried out that murder. Something bigger than myself had control over me. You won't understand. I'm sorry. I have to go now."

"No, you can't leave!" Maria shouted. "Today you must die!"