Kane dreamed all night.
He dreamed of people he didn't know. He dreamed of excess. He dreamed of business meetings he'd never attended. He dreamed of places he'd never been to. He dreamed of his family.
He woke with a start in the spirit world. He was cloaked but his body had golden motes of power crawling all over him almost like a massive swarm of bees. He looked more closely and the motes appeared to be agitated, almost as if they were looking for something. He looked around nervously for brain claws. Seeing none he dropped his cloak and was immediately swamped by feelings, memories and power. Huge, huge amounts of power!
He was almost overwhelmed. He felt like he might explode!
The glare from his aura was almost painful and he rapidly cloaked himself. It took him a little while longer to ensure that he was fully covered. The sensations running through him were indescribable. The assault on his senses and brain was something he would remember for some time. He could only guess that it felt like the world's greatest high.
Eventually he came under control, shaking with reaction.
It was only then that he realised where he was.
He was by the back gate of his house that led out onto Exmoor. He'd obviously been woken by someone crossing one of his wards. He didn't recognise the man. He was slight with greased back hair and was wearing a dark blue raincoat and a pair of dark coloured jeans. His trainers had taken a bit of a beating from the muddy conditions on the moor and one of his trouser legs looked like it was soaked through up to the knee.
He was peering round the gate watching the entrance at the front of the house.
Kane turned to see a police barrier in front of his drive with a patrol officer standing there looking bored, fiddling with his phone.
The man obviously decided that this was his moment and quickly climbed up the gate.
Whatever he was up to Kane didn't much like the idea of anyone snooping on his house. As the man's legs cleared the top of the gate Kane [pushed] and made sure that one of his laces got hooked on the latch on the gate. The man was already committed and it was far too late when he realised that his foot was caught.
He crashed to the ground with one leg stuck in the air, the lace hooked to the gate, his greasy hair and coat stuck in the mud.
"Hey!" came the shout from the police officer who quickly ran through the garden to the man who by now had managed to pull his shoe off and was looking like a deer in the headlights, desperately looking for an escape.
After a few seconds of a comical standoff the man's shoulders slumped and the police officer put handcuffs on him, and started to read him his rights.
"Oh come on! This is the biggest story that's ever happened in this area! And you guys won't give me anything! This is blatant interference in the rights of the free press."
"This is the protection of a crime scene which you've already been warned about."
"Can I at least have my shoe back?"
Kane withdrew back to his own body, stretching like a cat that's been asleep for too long. The curtains weren't even closed and yet it was past eleven in the morning.
His stomach rumbled ominously. If the ward hadn't woken him then his stomach surely would have done.
Other than that he felt incredible. His brain felt like it was working at a hundred miles an hour. He kept getting flashes of information and knowledge in little bursts. It was massively disconcerting, enervating and worrying all at the same time.
He really didn't want to go out feeling like this but if he didn't eat soon he felt like he'd expire.
He rapidly showered and as he was getting dressed he realised why the receptionist had been so concerned when he arrived last night. His shirt and coat were covered in chemical burn marks. His jeans were ripped and he looked as if he'd just survived an encounter with Jaws.
He suddenly had flashes of himself in Aldred's house and the dead man that had been drained on the floor. He shook his head and his vision cleared. If this kept up he wasn't going anywhere today. He resigned himself to another night in the cookie cutter hotel.
He smartened himself up as best he could and then confirmed with the receptionist (thankfully a different one) that he'd be staying for another night before leaving the hotel.
He took a deep breath, practically inhaled a cereal bar that he had stashed in the car and headed for the nearest shopping centre. Swindon has a huge outlet complex and he quickly found some replacement clothing that didn't draw attention to himself. He also found a Five Guys, ordered enough for three people and ended up going back for a second order before he was finally sated.
Throughout the hour or so that this took he had brief glimpses of memories that he knew didn't belong to him. He remembered appointments that he was supposed to be at. He remembered the feel of women's bodies beneath him that weren't his wife. He briefly wondered if he was going mad.
But in his heart he knew what had happened.
He had sucked the life from another human being. And that life, willingly given, included their experiences, their knowledge and their lifeforce.
He was morally disgusted with the implications of that whilst at the same time being fascinated with what it meant. He was slowly coming to terms with the spirit world, and his abilities had saved him more than once now.
But there were so many unknowns.
He sat on the bench seat looking down at the shops in the long covered arcade. Iron columns were dotted everywhere, presumably from a time when the building had been used for something other than trying to sell designer clothing to the masses.
He sighed in resignation, almost becoming used to the sharp flashes of knowledge and memories that happened intermittently, as he tried to decide what to do.
What could he do? He couldn't drive any distance like this, as who knows how long the flashes might take to stop? At least he hoped that they'd stop. He sat there frustrated trying to come up with options.
In the end he drove the short distance back to his hotel and went up to his room. He lay down on the bed and slowly relaxed.
As he closed his eyes a mass of experiences flowed over him, almost as if they'd been held back by his active mind; by his need to move, see and eat. It almost felt like drowning. He found himself saying out loud "I am Kane Daniels. My wife was Emma Daniels. My children were Jason and Lauren. I am Kane Daniels. My wife was..." over and over again as he clung to the things that he loved.
