Requiem

“We’re moving you today,” Grant said with his bright smile and deep dimples.



“Moving where?” I asked, wondering what else I could possibly train for. I had been in every department of the company, and had just begun the managerial training. In truth, I had mastered everything Grant could do long before my internship, and could do it better. I had excel ent rapport with the clients, and because of my hard work over the summer, the employees had embraced me. Short from sending me overseas, there was nothing I hadn’t seen.



“Over there,” Grant nodded.



I didn’t turn around. I knew where he was gesturing. He was moving me to my father’s office, the one space in the entire building I had avoided.



“I don’t need to do that, yet,” I said, trying to mask my unease.



“Nina, you’re the CEO of this company. It’s time you took the office.”



“Why the hurry, Grant? Are you looking to retire?” I asked, fidgeting with my blouse.



“I’m not asking you to run the company, but you can’t gain respect from the staff filing downstairs with the interns. Solidify your position with your employees before you graduate and take over.”



The elevator opened and Sasha appeared, gliding a tube of lip gloss over her too-bright lip stick. “Grant, a package for you was sent to our office by mistake,” she said, handing him the large, paper envelope. “I saw a shirt exactly like that on a homeless woman this morning,” she said, staring at me with repugnance. “There are better places to shop than the community thrift store, Nina, real y….”



I looked down and then back at her, suddenly open to the idea of changing offices. “Sasha, glad you’re here. Grant wants me to take my father’s office. I’ll leave you in charge of transferring my things.”



“You’re…?” Sasha looked to Grant for indemnity, but he raised his eyebrows expectantly. Her expression scrol ed through several emotions ranging from shock, anger, to defeat, then final y turned on her heels. “I’ll take care of that right away,” she said through her teeth.



Had I slept the night before, my mood would have soared, but I simply looked at the door of my father’s office and sighed.



Grant patted my shoulder. “You’ve earned it, Peanut. And if it makes you feel better…I like the shirt.”



“Thanks,” I said, sliding from his touch.



Carl from maintenance exited the elevator, and passed by with a tool bag, a bucket, and a squeegee. He stopped at my father’s office door and peered at the black block letters on the glass.



Jack Grey CEO He pul ed a box knife from his pocket, and began scratching at the letters.



“Don’t!” I yel ed. Carl froze, and I hurried to the door, smoothing out the Y of my father’s name. “Leave it,” I said softly.



“Yes, ma’m,” Carl said, clearly rattled. He shot a glance to Grant, and then left the way he came.



“I’m sorry. I assumed you’d want your name on your door. I thought you’d like it,” Grant said.



“They can both fit,” I said. “Just put my name under his.”



“You’re the boss,” Grant said, his expression matching his tone.



I pressed the button to the first floor, and then leaned against the back wal of the elevator. “Too much for one day,” I whispered.



Above the door, the number one lit in a soft glow, accompanied by a pleasant dinging sound. The double doors spread open, and I squinted from the sunlight penetrating through the glass wal s of the lobby. To my surprise, Jared stood at the revolving door.



“It has been a lot for you today. Let’s go home.”



I smiled, remembering my whispers in the elevator.



He let me lean against him as we walked to the Escalade hand in hand. The gul s seemed particularly loud, call ing to each other along the harbor.



The breeze brought in the sweet stench of fish and motor oil. The sounds and smell s surrounding Titan always reminded me of my father.



“It’s no wonder I’m having the dreams,” I said.



“What dreams?” Jared teased.



I smiled. “Coming here everyday, being around everything that embodies what I remember about Jack. It’s not some supernatural mystery. I’m just surrounded by him.”



Jared replied only with a thoughtful nod. He was careful to avoid the subject during the ride home, sticking to the weather and happenings at Brown. Once we reached the loft, he was al to eager to start preparing dinner, so I left him to his thoughts and ran a bath in the downstairs tub.



After lingering far too long in the cooling water, I wrapped my towel around me and opened the door, noticing only one plate of food. Jared was in the corner, dripping with sweat.



“You ate without me?” I asked, sitting at the table.



“I didn't want to disturb you,” Jared said, grunting with the massive amount of weight above him.



Jared was hiding something, and his behavior told me it was probably something I didn't want to know.



I finished my dinner and started the dishwasher, and then made my way up the stairs. I slipped on my night gown and crawled into bed beside Jared. He was reading, and put his book down long enough to kiss my forehead. I relaxed, trying to think peaceful thoughts. Wondering if I would wake up screaming wouldn’t help to keep the dreams away, so I forced my mind in the direction of Jared and our Oak Tree.



“No studying tonight?” Jared said.



“Test is Monday. I’m too tired tonight.”



Jared nodded. “Mom call ed today. Bex’s coming home tomorrow.”



A yawn interrupted my response, but I spoke in spite of it. “Oh?”



“I invited him over for dinner. I thought I could whip up a pot roast.”



I smiled, drifting off. “Sounds good.”



Just as Jared kissed me goodnight, I fel , dropping thousands of feet to a dusty, wooden floor. Landing face down, my palms flat to the ground, I hesitated to move until I was sure of my surroundings. It was dark and quiet, except for the subtle disruption of the rustling of papers. I turned my head, struggling to focus two shadows on the floor; two hunched figures desperately searching.



I closed my eyes. “I’m not moving,” I said, bal ing my hands into fists. “I won’t watch.”



The rustling stopped, and Gabe whispered the warning to my father. “It’s too late.”



“I won’t watch you die tonight,” I said, gritting my teeth.



Jack and Gabe escaped with their book, and I sat on my knees. The shrieking echoed through the hal s, and my heart beat faster. I stood, determined to stay, focused on the room I was in, trying to ignore the fiendish and frightening noises growing louder as they closed in. It was my dream. I would stay.



The room blurred, and time pul ed me away. My stomach tugged, and then I was gone, violently thrust to the roof. Gabe took my father in his arms and leaped with transcendental strength to the site of my father’s brutal end. Once again I refused to move, locking my knees in place. The tugging began, but my feet remained on the ground.



Just then, countless shadows swept past, traveling with such momentum that my hair blew forward, as if two trains were passing at ful speed on each side of me. The sounds that came from the shadows were indescribable, so loud that my hands automatical y cupped over my ears. I screamed aloud to try to drown out the evil that saturated the space around me.



Then it was gone.



I waited. Sounds from the street below replaced the deafening roar of Shax and his minions, and my knees buckled, letting my body fal to the ground.



“Please stop,” I whispered, knowing no one could hear.



My breathing accelerated. The air seemed too thin, and the tugging began again. “No,” I pleaded, just as a hole opened up beneath me. I fel , landing on the wet cement of the al ey.



A pair of familiar shoes stood before me, and I fol owed the tailored suit with my eyes to the face of my frightened father. His hands were wrapped around the book, his knuckles white. I closed my eyes, waiting for what would come next. The sounds of hands exploding through the door, and the audible shredding of Jack’s clothing and skin were much more vivid when I refused to watch. The bones of his spine snapped as demons yanked him through the hole in the door, and into the building to his brutal death.



I cried out. Not so much a scream, as a low, guttural moaning, sobbing for my father. The al eyway quaked, as if the earth below was trembling in the presence of such evil. Dark turned to dim light, and I focused as Jared’s warm hands shook me awake.



“Nina?” he said, holding my cheeks in his hands, waiting for me to look him in the eye.



Once again soaked in my own sweat, I tore my nails from my palms, stil clenched from trying to force myself to stay in one place. Jared looked down, and then left for only a moment, bringing back two rags.



“Jesus, Nina,” he choked out.



The white towels hid the four tiny, half-moon gouges in each hand, but quickly revealed the damage as they began to turn red.



Jared placed another rag, this one wet and cold, on my forehead, wiping away the sweat and tears. My eyes felt swol en and tight. Although the dream was over, I couldn’t stop crying. Jared’s expression was heart breaking. It was the same expression he had when he let go of my hand in the emergency room, as if I were dying before his eyes.



“I can’t fix this,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to do to help you.”



“You’re helping,” I said, my voice raspy and faint. I left the bloody rag on the blanket, and touched my hand to his face. Too tired to hold up my own arm, it fel to the mattress. Streaks of blood marked Jared’s cheek, prompting me to turn my hand palm-up to see the oozing tears in my flesh.



“I’ll take care of that,” Jared said, reaching under the bed to fetch the first aid kit.



My head rested against the headboard as he tended to my wounds, kissing my fingers when he finished each hand.



“Jared?”



“Yes, Sweetheart?” he said, thick with agony.



“Would you make some coffee?”



“Yes,” he said simply.



He left me alone, rushing down stairs. I looked down to my red-stained hands, and then to the clock. It read three-thirty. Rubbing my eyes, I struggled to block out the shrieking that stil rang in my ears.



Jared returned with a steaming mug of dark, bitter caffeine. He sat beside me on the bed with renewed hope. “Okay,” he said, careful y passing the cup to me, “let’s talk about this.”



“No.”



“No?” My answer caught him off guard. It took him a moment to recoup. “Nina, there has to be a reason for this.”



I took a sip and sighed. “I told you. I’m at Titan every day. I’m surrounded by Jack and memories for hours at a time. Think about it. The dreams didn’t start long after I started my internship.”



“That doesn’t add up, Nina. You should be comfortable being there by now. The dreams should lessen, not get worse.”



An attempt at rational thought proved futile. My mind was clouded by fatigue, and it didn’t take long grow frustrated and give up. “I don’t want to think about it, Jared.”



“You must be exhausted. But, let me try. Tel me about the dream.” Jared smiled when I conceded with a sigh. “Please?”



“It was different this time. I tried to control it and let it happen without me being there to watch, but it kept pul ing me back.”



“What pul ed you back?”



I shrugged. “I don’t know. The dream? I would stand stil and concentrate on staying in place, and then I would get pushed to the next scene. But once…I stayed for a while. I saw something I haven’t seen before.”



“Yeah?” he asked, anxious to find answers.



“The d—,”



“Nina,” Jared said, firmly interrupting me.



Nodding with understanding, I continued, “I stayed behind. Gabe and Jack jumped to the next building like they always do, but this time I stayed on the roof, and the Others, they surrounded me. Dozens of them, hundreds of them—I don’t know—they surged past me.”



Jared nodded, stil waiting for an epiphany.



“…and then I fel through a hole, and I landed in the al ey. I didn’t watch this time. I kept my eyes shut.”



“Did that help?”



“The noises were just as bad.”



He waited for something to come to him. Thoughts were clearly racing through his mind as he methodical y checked off each scenario, each possible explanation, and then went on to the next. Frustration scrol ed across his face and he stood, walking to the railing that ran along the edge of our bedroom. He looked down to the lower level, squeezing the metal bar so tightly it complained as he twisted his hands back and forth.



Coffee final y made its way through my body, rushing through my veins. I kicked the covers away and planted my bare feet on the cold floor.



“Movie?” I asked, but he was lost in thought. In the subdued light, I could see his mouth moving, but he made no sound. “Jared?”



His lips continued to move, and the metal stil whined under his grip.



“You’re going to break the railing,” I said, walking the few steps to reach him.



He stiffened under my touch. “They won’t answer.”



“Who?”



“Eli. Samuel. Anyone.”



“Maybe they’re busy.”



“Exactly,” he said, his shoulders fal ing. “I can feel how exhausted you are, Nina. I don’t know how you’re stil functioning. I can feel the way your body tenses and panics when you’re having the dreams. I don’t want to frighten you, but this is…if you want to believe it’s Titan, okay. But I need to figure this out.”



“What do you mean?”



“I’m call ing Bex. I’m going to have him come in for a few days while I try to find some answers.”