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Julian didn’t hear. He hit himself harder and faster. When Eleanor reached to catch his hand, he recoiled from her as if his touch might infect her with some dreadful disease. “Stay away from me.”

“Why are you being like this, Julian?” There were tears in Eleanor’s voice now, as her anger gave way to confused desperation. “Are you trying to drive me away? Is that it?”

“Christ, I wish that’s all there was to it.”

“Well what else is there to it. Speak to me, Julian, for fuck’s sake.”

“There’s…” Julian struggled to find the words. “There’s something in me, some kind of sickness.” He hammered his hand into his head again. “I can feel it in there trying to get out.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I keep having these…these…” Julian couldn’t bring himself to say the word dreams. He didn’t even want to think it in case doing so caused the images to spill out of his subconscious again. Desperately trying to make his mind a blank space, a white sheet of emptiness, he struggled to his feet. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I’m so-” He broke off, voice choked by tears of shame. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he hurried out of the barn.

“Wait, Julian,” Eleanor called after him. But he didn’t wait, he quickened to a run. He knew now what he must’ve known unconsciously all along, it wasn’t just Mr X he needed to protect Eleanor from, it was himself. Feeling sick to his stomach, he got into the car, threw it into gear and screeched away. He drove fast to the centre of town, to The Cut. He ordered a whisky, chucked it down his throat, ordered another, did the same with that, and another, and another. When he blearily glimpsed himself in the mirror behind the bar, a look of revulsion and loathing etched itself into his face. It was all he could do to resist the urge to fling his glass at his reflection. He felt, or imagined he felt, a pressure growing behind his eyes. As if the darkness that lurked there was trying to burst forth. Again, he wondered where the darkness came from. For a long time he’d managed to convince himself that its source was external, that the seance had released something, not a ghost, but some kind of malevolent energy that was bent on taking over his psyche. But now he couldn’t help wondering whether in reality the darkness had always been there and the seance had simply acted as a catalyst, setting in motion the subconscious forces of his own nature.

A hand touched Julian’s shoulder. He jerked around to find himself facing Kyle. “I thought it was you,” Kyle said. He was grinning his usual idiot grin, but it disappeared and he took an instinctive step backward at the sight of his friend’s face. “You okay, bro?”

“No,” slurred Julian, swaying, his eyes barely open. “I’m not fucking okay. I’m all wrong.” he stabbed a finger at his temple as if to indicate where the wrongness lay within him. “I’m no good. No good to anybody. I should do the world a favour and end this shit.”

Kyle wet his lips nervously. “Come on, dude, things can’t be that bad.”

Julian laughed — it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “What the fuck would you know about it? What do you know about anything, except getting stoned?”

“No need for that, Jules, I’m just trying to help.”

“If you wanna help, shut the fuck up and buy me another drink.”

“I think you’ve had enough already. Look, why don’t I give you a lift home?”

“If you’re not gonna buy me a drink, fuck off,” Julian said, loudly enough that he drew uneasy glances from nearby drinkers.

Kyle’s tongue flicked over his lips again, which trembled now with anger. “You’re right, Jules, you are all wrong. That poisonous bitch has fucked you in the head, just like I warned you she would.”

“Shut up, Kyle.” Julian’s voice was quieter, less slurry, more menacing.

“No, I won’t fucking shut up. You want to know something, I hope the little whore has jumped off the bridge. Good fucking riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what I say. This town’s better off without her. And I’m not the only one thinks so. Ask anyone in here, they’ll tell you the same. ”

Kyle’s last word came out in a gasp as Julian shoved him in the chest, sending him reeling. “Say another word about Mia and I’ll spread your fucking nose over your face.”

“I’d like to see you try,” retorted Kyle, fists balled.

Julian took an unsteady step towards him, catching hold of a table for balance. He shook his head as if trying to clear it and flapped a hand at Kyle. “Ah, fuck you.” He raised his voice so the whole bar could hear. “Fuck all you pricks. She’s worth more than the lot of you put together. She’s worth more than this whole shitheap of a town.”

“I think you’d better leave,” the barman said to Julian.

“Don’t worry, I’m going.”

Staying upright with difficulty, Julian made his way outside. Kyle followed him as far as the door. “Julian,” he called after him, the anger gone from his voice, concern taking its place. “You’re not going to do anything stupid like kill yourself or anything, are you?”

Julian glanced back at him, eyes swimming. “No, but maybe it’d be better if I did.”

Relieved, Kyle let out a breath. “And what about us?” he asked tentatively. “Are we still mates?”

Julian stared at Kyle a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. Bye, Kyle.”

After fumbling the key into the ignition, Julian pulled away with a crunching of gears. He didn’t think about where he was going, he only thought about where he wasn’t going. I’m not going home, he told himself, all this shit has got to end, and end tonight. He kept slamming the heel of his hand into the steering-wheel as, in a kind of drunken trance, he drove out of town to Mr X’s place. As usual, the dog was waiting for him. His face twisted with irritation at the sight of it. He snatched up a stone and flung it with all his strength, scoring a direct hit on the animal’s muzzle, whooping triumphantly as it yelped and skittered away. He reeled backward himself a second later as it thrust its nose between the bars, barking.

“Shut the fuck up,” Julian yelled, stooping for another stone. The dog sprang away. It loitered at a safe distance with malicious intent in its eyes as Julian pressed the intercom button. “No more fucking around,” he hissed into it. “I’m here to cut a deal.”

As usual, silence roared back at Julian, closing in around him, beating against his eardrums. He pointed to the car. “That’s worth ten thousand at least. It’s yours. And there’s more where that came from, much more, as much as you want. My family’s rich. Just tell me how much you want.”

Julian knew he sounded desperate, knew he’d lost all pretence of self-control, but he didn’t care anymore. “Look, I’m laying it all on the table here. This is everything I’ve got to offer. Just give me Mia. I know you’ve got her, otherwise I’d be in jail, wouldn’t I?” After a moment’s more silence, he continued in a pleading, pathetic voice, “Oh God, give me her, please give me her, please, please…” He trailed off, hanging his head, his eyes filling with tears. The silence seemed to be getting louder and heavier by the second, as if it was trying to browbeat him into giving up.

Wiping his tears away savagely, he glowered at the security camera. “I won’t give up. Do you fucking hear me? Call the police, kick the shit out of me, whatever. I’ll keep coming back. I’ll never stop. Never!” With this last word, he hammered his fist against the intercom hard enough to crack its casing. Static flared, then the hiss of the intercom died. As it did, the gate began to slide open — not all the way, just far enough to let the dog through.

Heart lurching, Julian ran for his car. He might’ve made it, if his reactions hadn’t been dulled by alcohol. As he yanked the door open, the dog’s teeth closed around his right ankle. He screamed as they sank into his flesh. The dog ragged his leg from side to side, trying to drag him away from the car. He clung to the door and kicked the dog in the head. For an instant, its jaws loosened. Jerking his leg free, he dove into the car and slammed the door shut. The dog howled and scrabbled at the window, its breath misting the glass. Julian examined his leg. Blood leaked from two half-moons of deep looking puncture wounds on either side of his ankle. He pulled off his shoe and tied his sock around the wound in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding.