Mark Harrigan: reflections of Sophie

Mark slid his trusty Trench Knife against the sharpening stone, and wondered whether this would be the last time he would go through this ritual. He glanced down at the knife and it glinted satisfyingly in the light. He was almost ready. Mark ran his finger along the side of the blade. Yes, the sharpness was there. He stood up, and held the blade aloft, and waited, thinking about the first time he’d seen the reflection of her face appear.

It was during the war. His platoon had been ordered on a trench attack to gut the enemy’s front line. Whilst the rest of his squad used their bayonets, Mark insisted on using a knife. He wanted to get close to the enemy, and feel their breaths. It made them into people, not just targets. It had to feel real for him.

His squad miraculously emerged from no mans land unscathed and made their way into the enemy trench. The screams of fear were drowned by explosions and gunfire. Mark cut his way through the enemy ranks, thrusting and slashing at anyone who came across his path.

But after what seemed like hours he heard strange, guttural noises from a bunker deep in the enemies’ lines. He descended down into the darkness. Mark entered a room where the noises had been coming from, but saw nothing. A blast of air blew from a pipe and horrifying screech filled the air. Dark, uniformed figures had appeared from nowhere. There was something wrong about the way the moved. But he had no time to think about what was strange about them. He was surrounded. There was only one thing he could do. He had to kill them all. He started thrusting and slashing and hoped he would survive.

The second miracle then happened. They were all dead. Mark wiped the blade down his shirt to clean it. He surveyed the corpses, expecting to see the expressions of terror on their faces as they had drawn their final breaths. But something didn’t seem right. The twisted faces didn’t all look normal. There was something wrong about their features. Something unnatural. Something monstrous.

Mark emerged from the bunker, shaking his head and covered in dirt and blood. What had just happened? He looked up at sun that had appeared in the dusty sky. It was then her face appeared in the shining blade. It was Sophie. His Sophie. She smiled at him and Mark smiled back. It was a look of approval. Mark looked back into the bunker at the monsters' bodies that were piled on the floor. It was then he knew his purpose.

The more of these things he would destroy, the closer he would get to being back with Sophie. Only she would know when it was time for them to meet. The killing didn’t stop in the war. Mark found monsters in Arkham too. They were everywhere. So, by fighting them, it helped bring him closer to his goal.

Mark looked up at the blade once more as had the feeling that tonight might be that night – all he had to wait for was Sophie to appear. Then he was sure he would know if it was the time. And then he would go out into the night to fulfil his destiny. He could be with her once more.

One way or another.