Chapter 11
Sebastian
It never occurred to me that there could be other patients under Mr. Plague that I didn’t directly have a hand in swindling, but over the years he’s proven to have a bigger grasp over this entire city than I had originally thought. Any time I’m not at that cabin, I could only wonder what he could possibly be up too. I know he somehow has different ways of tricking people into signing that contract. Now, with that idea being a possibility, it would only make sense for me to take up this peculiar case. Everything about this seems off, and I’m sure Malcolm Middleton has got a few answers for us.
He leans over the outside patio’s bar rail while lighting his cigarette. I have no site of Donovan as he stands slightly behind me, but somehow I can still read his mood just by his presence alone. I can tell he’s going to pay close attention to anything this man is about to say. His sudden demeanor changed all too suddenly, and I might have a hunch as to why.
He finally speaks after blowing out a surprisingly big puff of smoke. “My name isn’t actually Malcolm Middleton.”
Donovan responded. “What?”
“Yes, that actually should be a common thing honestly. Most artists use a fake alias or something to avoid unnecessary problems. You know how some fans can get out there. ”
I intervened. “Yeah, but in your case…It’s much bigger than any average artist.” He gives me a lasting look and turns back to peer over the city. Hopefully Donovan is catching on to what might actually be going on. I continued to ask more questions.
“Why do you think someone would target you? I mean, it’s strange to just have all of your paintings destroyed…except for one.”
“I noticed it too.” Donovan said. “The one with the plague doctor. You got any idea as to why this deranged person would be so quick to break everything in here besides that one?”
There you go Don, now you’re getting it. I studied his body language more and he still seemed to have a calm demeanor. I’m pretty sure he knows where we’re getting at with all these questions. No one has a random encounter like this.
He finally speaks. “My real name is Waylon Stone, and the reason this person didn’t destroy that painting is because he is showing a great amount of respect for it.”
Donovan voice cracked with confusion. “What? You mean it’s not destroyed because you made such a great piece of work…or is there something else about it that prevented its destruction?”
He takes a second to look at both me and Don, and answers. “I’m sure you both are familiar with a man name Mr. Plague.” There it was. The answer we were really looking for. I can tell when he said it the entire atmosphere sunk. It may have been an answer we were expecting, but it definitely didn’t feel any better once we heard it. I didn’t have to look and Don to understand his increase in frustration, I don’t blame him. Right now he’s in the stage of constant reminder that he’s stuck in this shit-storm, and it’s my entire fault. There’s no amount of apology to fix what I’ve done. “I can tell from the sudden silence that you have some kind of affiliation with him.”
Donovan respond. “Yeah…unfortunately.” I could feel his eyes stabbing me at the back of my head but I sure wasn’t brave enough to look back at him. I deserve every death glare right now. “How do you know him?”
“I’m sure it’s the same for me as it was for you both. You’re feeling sick, you wonder into the woods, find a cabin, walk in…walk out, and then a constant stream of anxiety and fear for the rest of your life.”
“Jesus Christ, exactly how many people does he have tied up in all this bullshit?!”
“I’m sure it can’t be that severe Don.” I said. “I haven’t met a lot of people like us.”
“I bet the one’s you did meet were the ones you tricked anyways, huh?”
It was a fair response. He has every right to be pissed off at me. “No…not all of them. I’m still sorry I dragged you into all of this man, I mean it, but staying mad rather than finding a way out of all this is just a waste of energy.”
Malcolm interrupted. “Ahh…I guess you’ve been in this for quite some time. He did mention in that cabin that he has someone to recruit patients for him. Guess it was you.”
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
“Don’t feel too bad. I know he somehow got you to sign the contract as well. He’s always been good at deceiving people and making them do his dirty work.”
“What exactly do you do in terms of dirty work then?” I said.
He looks up into the sky and flicks his halfway done cigarette over the balcony without looking. “I can’t tell you just yet…but I can give you a possible lead on what has been happening around this city.”
I look back at Don to see if he also had a skeptical face as me, and yeah, he did. He spoke with earnest intent. “Yeah, shoot.”
“As far as I know there are two people running around this city causing a chaos. I’m sure you heard of young females being found mutilated beyond recognition, and sudden home invasions with no trace of the suspect being left behind?” Yeah we have, and I already had a hunch as to what they could be connected too. It was just catching them that were difficult. “One of them is called Shark. We met once and had a quick discussion. The other one…well if we had met, I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you now.”
“Wait…this Shark guy; do you know how he looks?” I asked. “How can he just talk to you casually and not tear you limb from limb?”
“That’s because I’m not his type, he loves women.”
“I wasn’t asking if he was ga-.”
“He loves how they taste.” A sharp chill went down my spine when he said that. I could hear Donovan mutter to himself in disgust. “He looks like an average white model if you ever were to try and locate him. He has a rather defined jaw line, sharp edge all across his hairline and only a faint beard. He wears a dark blue suit with a white handkerchief in his left upper pocket as well. Keeping himself well groomed is a top priority apparently. Now…don’t think that I can just contact him all willy-nilly. He keeps a low profile and will only come out when he’s hungry, with that being once every three weeks or so.”
“Does he have some kind of weird special quirk? Is he able to alter his face in any way?”
“Yes. He slightly changes it after every meal, but it stay relevantly close to the normal look. Now his true face is even more horrifying. When he showed it to me, his eyes and nose morphed back into his head while his mouth grew so large it overtook his entire head. Three extra rows of serrated teeth grew inside his mouth as well. It was quite obvious at that point who had done all of these random mutilations.”
Donovan aggressively spoke. “All thanks to that demented psychopathic doctor…” He isn’t a doctor, and he’ll correct you any chance he gets. “How can we find him?”
I interrupted. “Wait, I think I might have an idea as to where to go.”
Donovan seemed confused by my response. “You do?”
“Yeah, it’s just a hunch but yeah. Let’s head back to the office. Sir, thank you for giving us these pointers, but do you have any other tips on this mystery burglar?”
He sighed. “No, unfortunately I don’t, but please do your best to catch him before he catches me.”
“We’ll try. Until then, I would find another spot to sleep at. You never know when he’ll stroll on back.”
“That seems pretty obvious.” Donovan and I both walked back to the front door. He exists first, but I stopped. I just need to ask a couple more questions.
“Did you meet this shark guy at the annual reunion?”
He turns around slowly. “Yes, I did.”
“By the way…what should I call you; Waylon Stone or Malcolm Middleton?”
“Malcolm Middleton. I prefer to remain anonymous in the popular eye.”
“Yeah, is that in regards to your fan base…or the others?” He looks at me with a discerning gaze, and didn’t respond. They say no response is still a response, and I fully understood the answer he just gave me. Someone has it out for him, and they want him erased. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.” I walked out and see Don down the hallway.
“Something wrong?” He asked.
“Yeah I guess you can say that. I’ll explain everything once we get back down to the office. There’s a lot we have to talk about.”
