I've been through so many of these things, I just can't remember what I've told to who. Anyway, I guess I'll start with childhood. Most people would say it was normal; Dad, Mom and a big brother Jerry that was always picking on me. I grew up in a small town in Washington, maybe you've heard of it? Seattle?
Anyway, when I turned 18 ... I mean the
day I turned 18. I signed my contract and BAM!, I was a Mary Kay lady. The great thing was that my Mary Kay money put me through college. I majored in Business and it went so well I got a Masters as well. But really, the Mary Kay worked out, so I just kept going with it and recently got my fourth pink Cadillac.
I met Derek when I was thirty-one ... er ... twenty-nine. He was kind, a little sad and, quite frankly, a nice guy. Someone I would rather settle down with than just, well ... try to forget the next morning. So after a whirlwind romance of 2 years, hehe, we got married. Nothing like walking down the aisle for the first time when you're thirty ... uh ... twenty-nine.
We moved into my house and had been together for a year. We were even starting to consider having a child, but then Derek got into the car wreck. He said it was an animal of some kind, but he didn't really remember.
That's when things got ... weird. Derek was more ... the books like to say withdrawn, but really he just didn't talk quite as much. I was worried it was something with me, but he assured me it wasn't and he was fine. Then there was the basketball team at work. That's when it really dawned on me that something was wrong.
See, Derek played for the Huskies. He didn't miss ... ever. I watched him fumble around that court like an old man. But it wasn't that he didn't know what to do, he knew, but he just couldn't do it any more. It was like ... I dunno, he was someone that watched the NBA, but never played.
I confronted him after watching his game. I wanted to know what was wrong, but he assured me it was nothing and not to worry about. There were several other episodes that didn't seem right, but it all came to a head when the police arrived.
Derek's body had been found.
I went with them to the morgue to identify him and, there he was. I ... hysterical ... that's probably the best way to describe how I felt. I had kissed him goodbye on his way to work and there he was. Then they really dropped the bomb on me.
He had been dead for over three months.
I was stunned. Who ... or what was living with me? It was Derek, but just not quite. I was just shaking and staring at Derek's body when I was approached by Agent Domenic Carter and my world unraveled even further.
He was following someone or something
that had been killing people and taking over their lives. I told him I would talk with Derek. Something wasn't right, hadn't been right for a while.
Derek was there when I got home, sitting on the couch watching the Oklahoma Thunder play the Boston Celtics. He wanted to talk. Good, so did I. But before I could start, he looked me in the eyes and sighed. He told me ...
He wasn't Derek. He said he was soooo sorry for what happened and pleaded, begged me to hear him through. I couldn't breath, I ... sorry ... I couldn't even think. He told me he had been running from Agent Carter for years. They, he said, they wanted to experiment on him, cut him up.
I wanted to scream, wanted to push him away and call that FBI agent, but he ... it was Derek's eyes! It was like Derek was there pleading with me. Begging me not to let them cut him up. He told me he could change into anyone he touched, he didn't even remember what he really looked like or what his real name was ... or even if he was really a man at all.
By why did he have to kill Derek!? MY Derek!?
He had to eat Derek's brain he said. That way he could get his memories and hide better.
I remember losing it. Hitting him and kicking him. He just let me wear myself out. I must have gone through the entire twelve ... or is it six ... five? Anyway, I went through all those grief steps they talk about in about the next five hours. Then it dawned on me ... would it kill me too?
He said he really didn't want to, but if he had to, he would.
That was another five or six hours of freaking out I think. Maybe it was only five minutes, time got all messed up.
Anyway, I hate him for what he did, but I can't just let some scientist carve him up either. Hell, I still call him Derek! Like my Dad used to say, "Killing another person doesn't bring back the person you lost." Or something like that anyway.
Maybe there's someone that can capture him, keep him from hurting other people. I don't know, I feel like one of those confused victim girls you see on the movies, but ...
Yeah, I have to find someone to keep him safe, but that will lock him away so he can't hurt anyone else. That's got to be it.