Frank is an ordinary guy who encounters an extraordinary otherworldly being bent on tearing his psyche to shreds.
Through words. Through carefully chosen, offside comments.
You know, it's funny. I can still remember the first time I saw that cocksucker. The sky was overcast, the air a bit sticky. I felt this irritating needling of my subconscious, then - I had a friend.
"Your fiance's been philandering all around town. With those snazzily dressed bartenders at Chuck's. With your fat, diabetic boss." There was a pause, as I turned, glimpsing an image of a tall man dressed in a dingy, nondescript black suit. Obviously plucked from the rack at some second-hand clothing store.
At first I was taken aback. Who was this fucker? I thought, stopping cold and stiff. "Excuse me, asshole? What the fuck did you just say?"
As if somehow paralyzed, I stood there, defenseless, as he leaned forward, coming almost nose-to-nose with me, without ever touching. It was at this point that I realized I'd not yet seen the man's face. It was as though I'd just left the pub, I felt slightly intoxicated, and very, very distracted. I tried to focus on the features of the man's face, but couldn't.
Now, inches away from whoever the fuck he was, I wanted nothing more than to give him a shove back over the embankment and laugh as he slopped about in the muck, taught a serious goddam lesson.
"With those prickly bastards down by the Docks." He paused, letting something foreign burrow into my deeper psyche - a fleeting thought.
- I thought you said you were done with him, Lara?
- I was...
- Then what - WHAT?
- We were going through tough times. You weren't home. It's totally different now, don't you see? The job was ruining you!
Seconds later, I snapped out of whatever nightmarish daydream had momentarily seized me. I stood alone.
"I'll be seeing you, Frank.
"The Slander Man's got lots more truths to come."