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Scarred Angels

Seven months had passed since that week ended. The one week meant for building cherished moments. But circumstances shifted under the weight of Echo's uncountable horrors. Leo chose isolation as a remedy for his new traumas. Or at least, it would be a remedy if that ghost wasn't staring at Leo with its black eyes.

"No. Leo. After everything that's happened...I just can't." The words from Chase were so clear and in contrast to what he had heard just minutes prior. He gasped, stepped back and realized something was wrong. Ever since Leo got his answer - an answer he feared and denied for so long, it became easier to recognize the tulpa wringing every drop of pain it could from his heart.

The presence that gripped Leo's mind left him at that moment. Leaving him to deal with the shock of clarity. To watch as his friends ran for the train. What could he possibly say that wouldn't sound crazy? He thought that night was a dream. The monster on the mountain, the looping roads that led back to the town. Two of Chase? They played on his mind. An impossibility. Unreal. But the scars now hidden under the fur on his head from crashing into the lake said otherwise.

Everyone had gone. And in the silence of the following days after being pulled from Echo by a Payton rescue crew, Leo's family begged him to come to Payton. He did for a while. Leo rejected therapy. Ever daring to remain strong. To be tougher than any reasonable person was ever capable of being. He returned to work. The distance from central Echo briefly felt like a calming balm. The long talks with family were his only therapeutic sessions. He could always count on the love and support from family.

As soon as Leo recovered his nerve enough to square his shoulders again, he decided to return to Echo. For solitude. There were demons to conquer. It took several months, but Leo finally realized his delusion. He felt the strings pulling on his mind, warping his decision-making. The thought of hurting his friends, including his ex, had all but crippled him. He hadn't overcome the nightly crying spells however. And he kept in sparse contact with his friends, doing his best to be brief and polite.

Now he paces in his old house to face the monsters that sat in the back of his consciousness, scratching, waiting. Seeking what vulnerabilities they could exploit once again. In a town evaporating away under an orange sun that dips on the horizon.

"What do I do with you?" Leo mutters. He stands arms crossed, with his chin in one balled up paw, looking at the couch. At the black shadow still shaped in the form of his ex. The eyeless figure distorting into smoke losing its form then reshaping like a mirage.

"Why don't we play some games? I like to watch you." Leo shakes his arm, the one with the anchor bracelet. It felt heavier than usual. Heavy like the air, the weight becoming familiar like the buzzing in his brain. But unlike before, he realizes it. And that was an encouraging first step.

The tiniest encouragement was always enough for Leo. He was always quick to act, just like with his football training. Conquer the field or fail. But be relentless.

"Let's lie down. You haven't held me in so long." Both suggestions get ignored by Leo.

"Wait, I think I know." Leo smirks. And the tulpa stirs a bit.

The room rumbled in Leo's ears as if a train slowly circled his home. But there were no passing trains he knew of. This rumbling felt closer. The heavy sound bore down on him and he resisted its pressure that demanded he bend forward and flatten his ears.

Leo plucked his phone out of his sweatpants, unwilling to take his eyes off the ghost, concerned it will port away or something if he doesn't stare it down. So he holds the phone up and out as if attempting to take a picture of the ghost. Instead, Leo opens to old texts, keeping the ghost in his peripherals. He passes by the recent texts from his family and even ignores the ones from Flynn. He goes straight to the messages he saved for two years. The ones before that week, from when Chase was in college. The texts were sent with a new phone Leo bought him to atone for an outburst of rage that left Chase's old phone broken outside the town diner.

He opens them, and with a bit of venom, he reads:

"What a boring night. I wish my wolf was here to warm me with his beautiful red fur and shelter me with his strong muscles. My red papi." The tulpa leans forward in its seat and speaks in Chase's voice.

"Say them then! Say it!" Leo snarls. The tulpa continues as Leo opens the next message.

"Read this one too!" Before, the voice would seem to ring directly in Leo's head. Now, as if a link had severed - probably since the breakup with Chase had granted him clarity, the tulpa sounds external. Separate.

"Leo, my pillar of safety. I need to feel you. I want you inside me. I miss it. I can't wait to see you again." Leo sighs, deleting the texts after the tulpa speaks them.

In retrospect, the whole thing was perverse. Leo doesn't peek at the naked attachments Chase sent him. They all get erased.

"Why are you pushing me away?" The tulpa asks with forced sadness. But it sounds all too genuine.

"Keep your disgusting fingers off my heart," Leo whispers. "You are not Chase. But..." he tilts his head as if pondering something, "you are. These texts are from Chase. They were his. Not yours. But you know them. Of course you would know them. And you mirror them. You mirror what I wanted." Leo shakes his phone at the tulpa. "He fed me this and it contributed to what birthed you. My demon. Why my friends were repulsed by me. Why Jenna hated me. Why Flynn hated me. Why I looked like a crazy obsessive fool for that week." Leo throws his arms up, exasperated. Even now, zooming out on the picture of their relationship and reflecting on years long events was bewildering.

"It was all because of my love for Chase. Or maybe because of how he poorly handled his end of our relationship and made me the asshole for it. Keeping me on a baited hook like a fish." Leo feels a squeeze on his heart. He chokes out a sob. The tulpa reaches out,

"Leo..."

"¡No me toques!" Leo growls. But he quickly forces back the rage. Negativity will only make the link between him and the demon stronger. That's how it ensnared him last time. Malice, fear, pain. That was the trap. At least that's what his family believed. Rage? It wants it. Needs it. Sadness? It salivates for it. Leo can't give any of it to this thing. But it would feel so good to just let go. But he can't. He mustn't.

"You can't get rid of me. I am you." the voice shifts. No longer sounding like Chase. It's smoother now and has a strange echo to it.

The ghost smells of old dirt, rot, and ash. Leo's home is dry as a desert night and lacks all the freshness of open air. The staleness provoking imagery of somewhere dark. Somewhere underground. Where time has stopped just as death stops life. He hears the clang of metal carts on tracks. Not like a train. No, these are not as heavy. It was just another auditory illusion.

Leo doesn't budge as his home shifts. To move would mean to get lost. And nothing tosses a spirit astray more than to move from where you have a solid center.

"El amor es mi hogar." Leo mutters. A faint flapping echoes off the walls which now appear jagged and warped. Like he is in a cave.

Unlike the noises around him, the flapping is swift and moves deliberately. Stopping every few seconds before returning. As if jumping from spot to spot and searching for something. It sounds counter to the heavy oppressiveness whirling around him. Almost comforting. Then all is silent and Leo is back in his home. His legs shake but he remains firm. The ghost sags a bit in its seat.

"Your love is the poison you fed those closest to you. You smother, you suffocate."

"And so you show me what you really are for once." Leo nods, thinking back.

Atheism balanced his perspective and brought him to a good center in self. And while this ghostly confrontation wasn't a call to any religion, which he still considers to be inefficient cults, this fight would require a reconnection with whatever could be called spirit. If there was anything he considered spiritual, it would probably be love. If that is what this monster was attacking and feeding off of, this must be it. Family, friendship. The love that Leo believed bound people together profoundly and so wonderfully.

And with that thought, the flapping returns. Like before, it provides him with a curiously soothing sensation in his chest even as the oppressive energy around him buzzes. Memories whip at Leo like lashes as punishment. The tulpa weaponized his history. But Leo prepared for this.

"You scared them away" Leo sees his friends rush past him out the backway of his home as he stands bewildered in the kitchen. As the train whistled outside that night. He remembers punching Kudzu in a confused fury. Leo retorts back as calmly as he can. Each memory was a reminder of his shame.

"I was a good neighbor. Offered Kudzu rides to town. Brought everyone to the river, to bond and settle traumas. It may not have been perfect, but I remember my intent, and what was wanted."

"You wanted control."

"I just wanted my friends around. But you were always there in my head. Eating away my sanity."

'You hurt them."

"I tried to protect them and build good memories. You hurt them." This time, Leo did not mention himself in the hurt. Not to absolve himself of responsibility. He knew what he did. And he punished himself for his failures. No, the goal was to put the spotlight where it belonged. Either he owned himself, or like before, something else would own him. And he saw what damage that brought on those he considered closest.

The voice shifts, this time sounding like Flynn but garbled.

"You hurt Flynn." Leo swiftly responds,

"You manipulated our emotions." Leo paces now, still staring. Daring the ghost. He leered at the tulpa as if he were hunting prey.

"You abandoned Carl." It says as Flynn.

"I fought bullies off of him. And did what I could to include him and make him feel a part of the group. I would charge a bear for Carl." Leo puffs up. His chest swelling, fangs flashing. "I fear nobody!"

The ghost's voice changes again, now sounding like...Tobias? Leo's surprise only lasts a second, then he snarls.

'You abused TJ and used his guilt against him." This was a half-truth. Sure. And it hurt Leo just as much as his other failures. But he wasn't going to allow warped truths. He knew why he did it. And what caused him to do it.

"I'm going to grab a beer while we play this game."

The oppressive energy in the room goes still as if abiding by Leo's suggestion. Leo tugs his fridge door open and plucks one of his last two cans of beer. He sets it on the counter stopping just short of popping open the can. TJ, the beer...that party. The day of the dead. The flapping returns. It's louder and heavier.

"I found Tobias, perhaps the most innocent of us, surrounded by drunk idiots and drenched in beer. I punched out the clown that attacked him and pulled TJ out of the party to safety. Whenever he wanted time together, I did my best to be there. I went to his church dance parties, I kept him away from an angry Flynn, although I wish that situation was handled differently. And I carried him to safety to my home after we fell into Lake Emma while you monsters were rampaging Echo." Leo's limbs tremble, and his face burns. He steadies his breathing, wiping his eyes with a paw. The ghost mutters and hums, listening intently. "Yes. I tried to force more time with Chase and that involved lying about being unavailable to TJ so I could keep Chase close. It was stupid and not the clearest of thinking. But we both know why that happened." He glares at the ghost. Its wispy black smoke coils joyfully around itself.

Leo opens the can and digs his toes into the ground. His voice shakes as he continues, "I love TJ."

"You're an abuser. You'd film more of it if you could." The tulpa's voice shifts again. And it briefly spreads transparent jagged wings that flash in a black cloud before dissipating. Then the figure morphs back to Chase. "Oh, that one-time fling at the party? The bat? I remember. I didn't forget that...Micha." Leo shrugs. A young nervous bat. "Just two young dudes in a small town not knowing what they were doing, figuring stuff out together." Hell, Leo wasn't sure of it either. But being Leo, when he was going to go through with something, thoughts came after. Unthinking, he hooked up. At the time the bat didn't appear too concerned about the intimacy.

But when Chase entered the picture, Leo pushed back against the bat, who approached a second time with a camera. Seeing what happened to TJ at the party, realization finally struck that maybe it wasn't a wise idea to be there. So Leo second-guessed himself and shooed Micha away and let the fling fall back into his mind where it wouldn't be discussed. He was far too distracted and excited about the idea that one of his close friends had the same interests as him. The desire to pursue a deeper relationship clouding all reason. And the rest was history. Twisted confusing history.

Leo scowls at the young Chase apparition and says,

"That form fits you. After all, it was Chase who helped plant these seeds." He said it. Something shifts. It's as if the colors in the room had brightened. Leo's ears ring like a bell had been struck. That ache in his heart squeezes again. He chokes on a gasp. "Maybe that party was a fork in the road. For my spirit."

So much symbolism for Leo to deconstruct thanks to the all too spiritual talks with his family. Why did it have to bring up that stupid day of the dead disaster? TJ still stuck in his ghost costume, innocence drenched in corruptive alcohol. A winged bat holding a camera. Like what? An angel watching him? Judging and recording his deeds? Giving him a choice? Then Chase, the temptation of Leo? A big red stupid selfish wolf.

"Dios..." Leo shakes his head. How terribly it fits when put in this perspective. His family would love that idea. He saves one innocent angel, ignores the other, and falls in love with his demons. A tale straight from their beloved fiction worship.

As Leo goes to take a sip from his beer, he stops, deciding instead to turn to the sink and pour it out. He chuckles a bit, his body shaking and causing the contents to spill out a bit more turbulently. He rinses out the can and fills it with cold water. He turns to the tulpa, who now sits and looks like Carl. It speaks in his voice.

"Liar."

"Deceiver," Leo responds. It then morphs into Clint.

"Monster."

"You're the monster."

"Problem," it says as Jenna.

"Friend," he retorts. Then he continues, speaking to the tulpa as if speaking directly to Jenna. "I was the one that offered you support and companionship during your feud with Heather. You were one of the harsher ones to me at times. But you were always so rational. And I know you know that I would always open my arms and home to someone that needed help. I always have. And maybe if I knew any more of that bat, I would have done the same for him too." Then silence.

The flapping returns. Sounding heavier as if approaching.

"Maybe I should have listened," he mutters. The rumors about Micha's family problems were well known, but Chase had Leo's full attention. Then Micha vanished like a ghost. He made his choice. "Maybe I could have done something different..."

The bracelet on his wrist grows heavier still. Now it tugs down on his arm and he feels the strain. Holding the purified can of water, Leo smiles and in a theatrical display of old catholicism, makes a crossing motion spraying the tulpa with water.

"Fuera contigo, demonio."

The tulpa stirs as the streams of water pass through it. When it reforms, a deep scowl sits on its face. Leo sips from the can honoring the names of his friends.

"Para TJ," one sip. "Para Carl," two. "Para Chase," a third. "Para Flynn," a fourth. "Para Jenna," He sighs with the fifth. And then...

"Y Micha." That clanging of a cart underground returns. And it is accompanied by the sound of trickling water. Each drop echoing light, cold, and smelling foul.

"Every name you speak is stained on your tongue, wolf. There will be others." An unfamiliar sound. Almost mournful. The words echoing in a high cry. The pained voice no doubt designed to tug at Leo's emotions. He hated to hear people cry. His need to correct a wrong, to approach someone in distress. It teases him. He almost slips, opening up to the poisoned words as the tulpa sobs in a childlike voice. He wanders to the bathroom, shoving open the door. Then he leans onto the sink, glaring at his reflection

His rust red features and cream patched face was still clear to see. Still there to call his own. He traces the contours where the red cuts into white, forming a kind of mask like a wrestler or a superhero. He tilts his head amused.

"It's a prank, Leo" the tulpa speaks, using Jenna.

"Keep my friends out of your trickery."

"Not your friends," it says, prodding at Leo's doubt. His loneliness. Did they care? He wondered. But that was foolish. He felt a cold tingling crawl down the back of his head, down his spine. The goosebumps a warning that his thoughts were going down the wrong path. It was searching, seeking. Sensing a vulnerability. A doubt. Leo shrugged, pushing the doubts away.

He knew who they saw. What they remember.

"They come to me. They call me. They rally around me." Leo stares at his reflection. The sink shakes. He glanced at his phone, noticing it had shut off. "Why do you desire me so badly? Is it my strength? My delicious looks?" He winks at himself.

"Leo, you're fucking crazy," it speaks again as Flynn. "Or perhaps you chose me because they turned to me. Because I brought people together. And you thought you bagged a whole group in one fell swoop? You went straight for me. To the core. Their core. And you broke us apart." Leo whispers that last part.

"You're a villain," it says in a sound like a distorted mix between Jenna and Flynn's voices. Leo uses his hands and makes rings around his eyes, smiling at the mask-like structure in his color pattern, thinking about Carl and TJ.

"Superwolf. And I promised to protect them. Even if that means I have to protect them from me. Because of you. I will keep you away from them. Forever. I am Leonardo Alvarez!"

Just as quickly as he riles himself up, Leo drops his head and shoulders. He shrinks and stares at a curious dripping in the sink. The foreign sensation of something crawling along his skin gets off his back, and his hackles fall flat. His tail goes limp.

"No. I'm just a wolf. Just a guy who loves too strongly and dreads being alone. I dreaded loneliness so much that I preferred the company of a ghost. And for whatever hellish reason you followed me and spread to everyone I cared about. Through my rage. My delusion. I risked everyone's safety and all because I couldn't handle my own loneliness. I'm just a guy who made mistakes. I'm so sorry..."

The dripping from the sink picks up in front of him. It pours now. Puzzled and with blurred vision, Leo tries to turn the handles on the faucet but the water only rushes out more violently. his surprise spares him from crying as it also comes from the tub. And in that tub is an otter. It's naked, lifeless, and faceless.

"¡Puchica!"

Leo stumbles out of the bathroom backward as the water overflows. It spreads along the floor and rises, his house made smaller and more suffocating by the growing pool. It is cold, wet, and feels very real.

The anchor bracelet now impossibly heavy, forces his arm down, pinning him to the ground. He keeps to one knee and holds his posture as straight as he can while the water rises. His thoughts turn to Chase and their relationship. The mistakes, the confusion. The obsession. But he also considers his anger and his hurt. The disagreements, the prolonged silence, Leo's far too forceful hopes, and Chase's harmful mixed messaging. Chase's leading texts. The fighting. So much fighting.

Amidst the loud rushing water, the flapping grows just as well. It's as if the winged flapping is buffeting the water back. He sees the water struggle to rise past his neck. Leo reaches into the water for the bracelet that painfully digs into his arm. He finally gets his fingers around it after missing and finding only the wet ground a few times.

Leo angrily attempts to break the bracelet. But it doesn't budge. He can't get the hitch. The anchor portion pressed down into his wrist must be creating an imprint by now. The sharp and heavy weight causes Leo's hand to seize up as shooting pains race through his fingers and stun his arm. The lifeless naked otter floats towards him.

Leo wonders then if love was enough to stop this. Did he not love Chase? His friends? Of course he did. So why did it feel like he was about to be consumed once more by this cursed town? This hell that scars angels? His behavior, though he called it love, it was controlling. It was fearful. His reaction to trauma. Trauma from childhood. Of finding TJ frozen by the shore. Chase cradling Tobias as he cried. People yelling. The body floating out, just like the one that floats towards him now. Reminding him of the incident that entrapped him and his friends in time and cast Leo specifically into a looping cycle of possessiveness, jealousy, and rage. He tasted the stagnant nature of his life for the past five years in the water splashing into his mouth as he struggled to keep his head up.

No, his behavior wasn't love. Love was understanding. It was selfless like he liked to think he was. Like he hoped to be but often fell short. It did not include a constant expectation of equal reciprocation at all times. Love was fearless. Fearless like he dared to be. Like he knew he was. Leo looked at the floating body, now shifting from a faceless otter to one of Sydney, and then to Chase. A cloak of warmth surrounds Leo, forcing back the cold in his bones. He feels his chest fill with warmth, and as his right arm feels nailed to the ground by the anchor, the rest of him feels curiously weightless. Almost like something is attempting to gently pull him up. Love forgave. And love knew when to let go.

"Chase, I'm sorry. I did love you. Maybe we were both haunted. I don't want to be angry. I hope if there is any darkness you wrestle with, that you can get past it. I'm letting go and looking forward. I hope you have a happy life without me. I hope to see you just once more so I can say goodbye."

Leo reaches again for the bracelet. The waves have completely blanketed the wall opposite him as the flapping intensifies. They toss his furniture, bumping the items repeatedly into the wall. The winds keeping the water back is enough to allow Leo's head to remain free from the water. The air forces the water into a sort of murky coccoon, the water threatening to slam and close in on him if the winds stop. Whatever angelic sorcery this was, Leo took advantage to pull on the bracelet once more.

"El amor es mi hogar."

The bracelet gives. He yanks back with too much force as the resistance he expected somehow vanishes and he flies backward into empty air before hitting the ground hard. The flapping around him stops. There is no water to be felt or splashing to be heard. Leo freezes on the ground, eyes closed as his back vibrates from the impact.

With a groan he opens his eyes. The room looks orderly. He breathes undisturbed air. The oppressive electric sensation was gone. Pounding on his door breaks the brief moment of quiet. A lightly rasped accent rattles behind the knocking.

"Lift your red fluffy butt and open the door, Leo!"

As the pounding in his heart subsides, Leo, with a mixed blend of hope and confusion, stands and warily walks to his door. And there before him as he opens, illuminated by the white of a full and proud moon, with tall ridiculous ears and folded wings, stands a short brown and white furred bat.