Page 40 of Possessed By Shadows

“This is where I found my first body,” Lukas finally said after long minutes of filming the dark. “Was a new cop then. Big dreams of changing things, but had worked so hard to get in the old boys club.” He let out a long breath. “The older cops told me not to get hung up on it. People die. Cops see some of the worst of it. Car accidents, suicides, shootings. This was…peaceful they said. Peaceful to die homeless, alone, with no one to give a single flying fuck? How is that peaceful?”

He walked along the bridge for a while, sticking close to the below highway areas and the streets which I knew were rife with homeless. “Didn’t even know his name at first.”

Lukas filmed an empty dark corner, trying to keep the camera still. “They called him Danny. Was a vet. Makes me think of Alex. Worry about him. Danny, the pain of his memories…he just wanted to be away from everyone. Wanted quiet. Not sure there’s a place in all New Orleans that would have fit his quiet.” The camera remained focused on the spot. “I paid for his cremation. Everyone told me it was stupid. There’s a backlog of people waiting to be cremated on the government dollar because they had no one. How was Danny different? He was different because I found him. Wanted to give him peace. Not sure I actually helped.”

There wasn’t much of a change in the dark shadow of the video, but a smallish one, almost like a car light nearby or something? Just the smallest shift of presence in the space. Lukas seemed to notice it too, whether just on camera or if he saw more in real life, I wasn’t certain, but he said, “Hey, Danny. You okay, man?”

Lukas began to move forward, toward the dark thing, slow, cautious, but not seeming to be afraid. “Brought your favorite. A sort of thank you, for your help.” He tucked a bag of candy bars in the corner, only giving the camera a glimpse of his movement while he stayed focused on the strange spot.

A thank you for what? What help could a dead person have given him? If the time stamp was right, and Lukas’s words about being a new cop when he’d found the man, meant the guy had been dead almost a decade.

Lukas backed away, finding a little section he could lean against to keep an eye on the area. “Camera never catches it. Doesn’t matter how I try. But he’s there,” Lukas said, his hand stretched out in front of him, though the dark edge was too far away for him to touch. “He’ll move on someday. Or at least that’s what people claiming to be psychic tell me.”

The shadow faded, black bits fading as if they’d been nothing more than a shade of distant light. And maybe they were. It was damn near impossible to see the difference at all in the video, though this stuff lacked the cleanup and brightening that a lot of the posted ghost videos had. Lukas finally began to move, heading back in toward the Quarter. “Handful more to visit. Pay respects,” Lukas said. “No one ever said being a cop would be so sad. Never felt like a hero. Not even…” his voice hitched, “when I found Sky. Felt like a failure. Too late. Cops are always too late. We clean shit up, sweep it under the rug, pretend we make the world a better place. But it’s a show.”

He walked a while longer, streets so dark it was hard to tell where he was, but I hadn’t been in New Orleans long enough to memorize some of the darkest areas. He paused at an obvious shrine. The candles, flowers, stuffed animals, and pictures hugging a wall. There was a faded picture in the middle of a youngish Latina.

Lukas added a small stuffed animal to the side. “Lena,” he said in mild greeting, though he didn’t linger. He was up and moving through cobbled streets which meant he was closer to the Quarter. “My first murder victim,” he said. “Killer was her boyfriend, though he tried to play it off as a mugging. Some jealous bullshit.” He walked a while longer, nothing but the dark empty streets around him. “Thought catching him would help her rest, you know? It didn’t.”

I paused the video to take it in. Lukas was implying that he saw these people. More than just the bit of shadow in the first, and something at the second scene with the murdered girl? Did he get full visuals? I was more than a little shocked, and confused. Why wouldn’t he tell me? Why would he let me think I’m crazy? Unless he thought himself crazy.

Was he hiding it from everyone? Trying to be normal? How long had I tried? Maybe that was why he had this quest to fix me. Not so much because of me, but because it could maybe fix him too?

I needed to find Lukas and demand answers. Couldn’t we have looked at this together? Did he think I would think he was strange? It hurt to realize he didn’t trust me with his secrets when he knew all of mine.

I reached for a tissue to wipe my eyes, and found Precious sitting on the back of the futon just inches away. She looked like a normal cat in that moment, completely solid, like I could reach out and pet her. Could Lukas see her too? Had he been pretending not to? Maybe he could only see those he found after they passed? Or those whose cases he worked?

Wouldn’t that be a sad and terrible thing? What if he went to homicide because he saw them and thought he could help them move on? Only to find that catching the bad guy didn’t free them from wandering in the afterlife? Did that mean those death-things were still out there? The one that had stalked MaryAnn’s kill field and even the war zones I had experienced? Was there no end for them?

And wouldn’t that mean every corner of the earth would be haunted? Lousy with ghosts because no one actually moved on? Was there a place to move on to? Wasn’t that a sad thought? I knew guys on the street who’d passed. Soldiers and friends who hadn’t made it home. Had always tried to think of death as a final rest, rather than a destination beyond. What if it wasn’t?

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling a bit of a panic attack rise. This wasn’t stuff I wanted to know or contemplate. The philosophy of what happened after a person died was to comfort the living, not the dead. I’d gone to war fearing death, but experienced enough of it around me to ease those terrors.

Maybe this was Lukas’s quest to do just that.

I turned the video back on, and watched him wander through a half-dozen other places. Another two or three with shrines. The rest nothing but barren places in dark corners. He left small gifts in each, somewhat specific looking things that I knew others would find and take. He probably knew too, but didn’t seem to care. There were stuffed animals, toys, food, flowers, and even some candles. By the time he made the rounds back to his place, he sounded tired, but almost like he’d exorcised something that had been bothering him. Maybe this ritual had been more for him than them. Cleansing his spirit, or at least his mind over those who had been lost. The ones he hadn’t been able to save.

I’d always thought my brother too softhearted to do a hard job like being a cop. It was why I’d been the one to go to war and he had gone to college. I didn’t know what had made him decide to go into policing. I hadn’t been home for that change. Maybe it was a desire to help others. He’d always volunteered in things when we’d been in school. And I knew that he still donated to the homeless shelters, both time and money. I had thought it was because of me, but maybe that had been selfish to think so.

Lukas sat down on the steps leading to his apartment and turned the camera to show his tired face. He said nothing, leaving the camera focused on him and a bit of space behind him. It lasted minutes, maybe longer, nothing happening. Then a small shift in shadow again. Not light really as none of that seemed to change. But there behind him on the landing outside of his apartment seemed to be a looming shape.

“He haunts me,” Lukas said quietly, though he didn’t turn around. “No one can tell me if it’s legit, or if I’ve tied him to me somehow with my spirit or emotions or whatever.” He moved the camera a little bit, giving a clearer view of what looked like a dark mass. Again, nothing clear enough to be solid evidence to any disbeliever, but I could tell the difference, even without filters and enhancements to clarify bits of darkness.

“I don’t regret killing him,” Lukas finally said. “Maybe that’s why he’s still here? I like to think of him as a monster. What he did to kids…”

The video didn’t sway, nor did the shadow. Time passed again, another couple of minutes. “His family cursed me, maybe? I remember the grief on their faces, even though I was across the room when one of the other cops told them. Heartbroken by his death. Did they know what he did? Does it matter in the end? I’m not sure. Not when they are still here.” He pointed toward the shadow. “He died so I could provide freedom for a handful of others. Worth it?”

He left the video at that, turning it off. And I sat stunned. None of this was on his channel or public files. But there were a dozen other videos in this same folder, labeled with dates and nothing else. Why wouldn’t he tell me?

And was this guy he’d killed still haunting him? Was that why he kept vanishing? Maybe he was taken over like I had been. Possessed or whatever. Was this the guy he’d killed when he rescued Sky? Had that been his first? Maybe his only kill while he’d been a cop? Why did the more I learned about my twin lead to more unanswered questions?