The Premonition's Curse

Extract

The room is dark – it’s the basement from the photos. Lawrence turns around to get his bearings. The large wooden door! His heart races as he runs for it, reaching for the latch. When he reaches the door, he passes through it like a ghost. He stumbles but catches himself. The scene is frozen in time: the metal table, the woman, the fat man, and the small boy. All are present like before but this time he’s inside the room instead of simply viewing it. Lawrence walks around, taking time to look at each of the people. The woman is battered, bruised, and cut with blood oozing from her wounds. As Lawrence looks around, the scene begins to move. Slowly at first, but it quickly speeds up to normal. Despite all of Lawrence’s efforts he cannot interact with his surroundings but can only watch as an observer.
“Come here, boy,” demands the large man. The small boy backs away from the table, fear in his eyes. “Come. Here. Now!” he says through gritted teeth. The boy gulps away the lump in his throat and he tentatively walks to the man.
“Yes, Father?”
The man raises his hand to strike the boy but he stops when the child cowers, shielding himself from the oncoming blow. The man laughs then becomes very serious and leans down to speak to the boy. His voice is low and harsh. “I told you never to call me that. Ever.”
“I’m – I’m sorry…”
“Come here!” orders the man as he grabs the boy by his shirt collar and pulls him closer. He manhandles the boy to force him into a position where he can’t avoid seeing the woman on the table. The boy averts his eyes but the man grabs his head and locks his neck in place.
“Ow! That hurts… please stop… please…”
The man raises his hand and slaps him. “Shut up. You’re weak and whiny. Like this whore.”
He points to the woman but decides to lift the child up to better see her naked body on the table. He does so violently with zero concern for the boy. The woman is strapped down to the table. Despite the many fresh cuts and a myriad of old scars, she is still alive. Her breathing is shallow and wispy.
“See this whore? It’s her time to die. It’s your time to finally become a man.”
“But–”
The man throws the child to the floor. “No buts, you spineless insect.”
He walks over to where the boy landed and is cowering. He squats down to face the boy, pointing toward the table. “That whore birthed you. Your weakness is on her and her poor stock. If you don’t end her miserable life, I will. And then I will end yours.”
The young boy shakes his head and then gets to his feet. He runs toward the large wooden door but the man, despite his girth, is able to step in front of him and catches the boy around the waist. With little effort he heaves the boy upward and slams him on the table next to the woman. She moans a little at the scraping on the metal. The man holds the boy down by putting pressure on his chest. The child’s eyes well up with tears, afraid beyond any level of fear he’s ever felt before.
“Choose. You live and you earn the right to call me father or you both die.”
The child nods his head slowly, his tears flowing. He sniffles and he sits up once the man alleviates the pressure on his chest. The big man reaches into his pocket. A large, sharp knife is removed and handed to the boy. The man steps away and watches as the child feels the balance of the blade in his hand. He fumbles it multiple times, not the weight but the implication of what it means.
The young man grits his teeth and with one swift move of the blade he glides it over the woman’s throat, cutting her deep and sure. The blood pours out from her throat. He drops the knife and collapses next to her sobbing; clapping sounds come from behind the child.
“Bravo! Well done,” says the man as his claps become more earnest. He approaches the child and gently touches his shuddering shoulder. “You may now call me father, Marcus.”

The room falls to pieces like broken glass. Darkness. Lawrence stands in the center of the room until he’s ripped out of it. The world he knows comes rushing back; the smelly alley in all its glory. Lawrence is on the ground, surrounded by Sarah and crime scene technicians. He sits straight up, eyes wide.
“Lawrence! Are you okay? What happened?”
“We’ve been so wrong. We need to go,” says Lawrence as he springs to his feet and approaches the driver’s side of the car.
“Where to?” Sarah asks bewildered.
“To the hospital to catch a serial killer.”