 
Pleasant Dreams

A Spine Tingling Indie Author Anthology

Compiled By:

Krystal George

Featuring Stories From:

Krystal George

Amanda Alberson

Kate Marie Robbins

Cheryl Casey

Heather Kirchhoff

Lorne Oliver

Majanka Verstraete

Cindy Bartolotta

Patrick Van Slyke

Kim Stevens

Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney

Illustrated by:

Cheryl Casey Ramirez

www.CCRBookCoverDesigns.com

Each story was edited by its individual author and edited by Krystal George

For All of the Readers

This is a compilation of stories written for you...

Thank you all for your dedication and support of what we do!

Flowers

By Krystal George

©2013 by Krystal George

My sister hadn't deserved to die.

I'm not sure why I had woken up thinking about that this morning. It wasn't uncommon for me to think of her, I mean she'd only been gone a few months, but I tried not to focus on how it had happened. My therapist had taught me that. He had said that I needed to try not to dwell on the things that I couldn't control and just focus on the memories I had of her, and there were plenty of those. She had been two when I was born. We had gone through the years where we played together, moved through the years where we had been at each other's throats, and finally landed where we were best friends. It was there, in that stage, that I had imagined we'd remain throughout the rest of our lives. Who would have thought that her life would be cut short so early?

Feeling more than a little keyed up, I decided to go for my morning jog despite the rain that was surely lurking just beyond the grayish clouds. It was the summer before I was supposed to head off to college. At this point, I wasn't sure I was ready to go. Too much had happened these past few months. I hadn't even walked in my high school graduation because I still had been grieving. Now I was trying to move past that.

A few people waved at me when I ran by. I had recently moved into my sister's condo and her neighbors were finally getting used to me. Some may think that it was strange for me to have moved there, but if they had seen what was waiting for me at my parent's house, they would have understood. Besides, in a way it made me feel closer to her, and I didn't think that Jess would have really minded.

It was no secret that my family was wealthy. A lot of people speculated that that was the reason for Jessica's murder, but I didn't believe them. All our family's money had done for us was allowing us a certain style of living. Neither of us had ever taken advantage of it or used it as a means to run wild. We lived simple lives... we just lived them in style.

The condo was about half a mile from a local park. It was a popular spot for runners since it had its own trail, so it was there that I headed. It was like I was running away from demons and in a way, I guess that I was. I pushed myself as hard and as fast as I could so that I could outrun the feeling that something was off today... the feeling that my sister hadn't deserved to die.

By the time I came to a bend in the trail, sweat was dripping down my face and there was a stich in my side. I slowed down and walked a few feet until there was a bench I could sit on. It was there, with my breath slowing back to normal and my muscles beginning to relax, that I first saw her.

It wasn't just the flash of silvery blond hair or the profile that I knew better than I knew my own. It was an awareness that flared to life inside the very essence of my soul. This was my sister. It didn't matter to me that it didn't make sense. It only mattered that it was her.

"Jess!" I cried.

The only acknowledgment she gave me was to press her pointer finger against her lips, silencing me. Then, without even turning to face me, she began to jog around the bend. My heart flew into a wild erratic terror. No. She couldn't leave me. Not again. I was on my feet and racing after her in seconds.

Inside my brain I was screaming her name, calling for her to wait for me. Outside the only sounds you could hear were the short gasping breaths that heaved from my chest and the steady rhythm of my shoes hitting the trail. There were still a few people running and I pushed past them, desperate to find her.

I never did.

Exhausted, my face drenched with sweat mixed with tears, I drug myself back to the condo. I was both physically and emotionally drained. My heart hurt with the enormity of my loss and my brain felt like mush from wondering if I had finally truly lost my mind. After all, there was no other plausible explanation for what I had seen.

I was surprised when I finally made it to the door to find my sister's best friend waiting for me. Secretly, I believed that he had always had a crush on her, but Spencer had always adamantly denied those accusations. He had also been a suspect in her murder, which is why I suspected he was so quick to deny it these days.

"Hey Spence, what's up?" I asked him wearily. After the morning I had just had, I wasn't really up for company.

He uncurled himself from the chair next to my door and smiled at me, "hey Mickey, I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by."

I rolled my eyes at the easy use of my nickname; a nickname that only he had ever used for me. Most people called me Kayla if they didn't want to use my full name of McKayla, but not Spencer. He had been in my life for a long time now, and he tormented me just as I was sure he would have tormented his own little sister, if he had one.

Despite my somewhat foul mood, it didn't really bother me that he was there, nor did it bother me when he followed me into the condo as I rifled through my mail in silence. We were as comfortable with each other as family and it felt normal to have him there.

"So... what's been going on?" He asked casually while taking a seat at the bar that lined my kitchen. "It's been a few weeks."

I frowned. Had it really been that long? "Oh you know, nothing major," I answered him absently.

"Well that's no fun; we really need to get you out more."

The casual way in which he said "we" made me pause. It wasn't the phrase itself that struck me as odd, it was more in the way he said it. Almost like the "we" held much more meaning than it ever had before. I looked into his green eyes, eyes that had always looked at me with a mixture of amusement and tolerance, and my heart began to beat faster. After a few seconds of silence in which neither of us broke eye contact, Spencer finally smiled and for the first time, I saw him as someone other than my sister's best friend.

"Seriously Kay, you need to lighten up, have some fun." When I stayed silent, his eyes dropped to the countertop, "she would have wanted it that way, you know."

My phone rang and I let the machine pick it up. Either way, the mood had been broken and I wasn't sure how to get it back. There was something intriguing in this new interaction with Spencer and part of me wanted to explore those feelings.

There was a beep and then the machine picked up. It was the old fashioned kind. The kind that was used before voicemail became the way of things, but since Jess had used it, I had too. There wasn't much of her space that I had changed.

"Hey McKayla, it's Dr. Benning. It's been a while since our last appointment and I wanted to check in with you. Please stop by the office this evening. I remembered something that I wanted to share with you. If you can't make it, I'll swing by the condo when I get off of work. Either way, see you soon."

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly. A tingling of awareness caressed my skin and I shivered before looking around to find the source. It didn't take long to find her. Jess, looking much as she had earlier, was standing behind Spencer with a look of horror on her face. Unaware of the new addition he looked up at me sheepishly.

"Well I guess you can't really go out tonight then, huh?" He took a deep breath and stood before walking toward me. I was shaking when he put his hands on my shoulders, but it was from Jess, not him. "Mickey," he whispered, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

My breath caught in my throat, not from his words, but because Jess had finally managed to find her ghostly voice and a resounding "NOOOOOO" had vibrated throughout the small space. I jumped back from Spencer, the panicked look on my sister's face before she disappeared again was enough to put a stop to whatever it was that was happening here. Obviously she wasn't happy about the way in which Spencer was talking to me and that was enough to make me scared... given the way she had died and the suspicion that had been directed at him during the initial investigation... it made me terrified.

"I think you should leave," I told him, trying to sound calm, but my voice was shaky.

He looked at me with hurt shining from the depths of his eyes. "What's wrong? Haven't you ever wondered if there was something more between us?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No," I told him, "you're confusing the feelings you had for Jessica with your feelings for me."

He recoiled as if I had hit him, the sting of my words were that great. "For the last time," he said, enunciating each syllable, "there was nothing between Jess and I besides friendship."

I gulped but remained silent.

He laughed humorlessly, "if you want to know the truth, your sister was dating someone. I don't know who, but it wasn't me."

With that he turned on his heel and headed for the door. "I don't believe you," I told him, "she would have said something to me." The thought of Jess dating some unknown person was beyond my comprehension.

He stopped with his hand on the door and motioned toward the living room. "It's true. Where else do you think she got the flowers?"

It was a long time after he left that I finally allowed myself to study the dried flowers around the condo. It was true that Jess had never really been the sort to keep them, which is why I had decided to keep them even though they were now dried and brittle. I had assumed she had bought them herself, imagined her choosing the flowers that would make her smile and decorating the small space with them. Now, looking at them, a chill raced down my spine. Could Spencer have been telling the truth?

"What are you trying to tell me?" I screamed aloud in the small space. The ghostly image of my sister was stubbornly absent, but there was still an awareness prickling my skin that made me feel like she was close. I just didn't understand what she was doing and what she wanted and why she had chosen now to come back.

Sinking into the couch, I buried my head in my hands. What was I even thinking? I had just accepted the fact that my sister was a ghost and was what, haunting me? I laughed bitterly. I was definitely losing my mind. Maybe it was a good thing that Dr. Benning wanted to see me.

No sooner had I thought that, the lights began to flicker and a startled scream escaped from my throat. Grabbing my purse and keys, I rushed from the condo without even bothering to change from my running clothes. I needed space to figure out what was going on, and I didn't think I'd be able to get that here, there were too many memories and freaky things going on.

My car drove as if of its own volition. Tears were streaming down my face and I knew that I was completely lost. Deciding that I may as well visit Dr. Benning myself, I turned in the direction of his office... then slammed on my breaks. There she was, right there in the middle of the street.

Horns blazed as all around me other drivers had to slam on their breaks to maneuver around my stilled car. I opened the driver's side door, ignoring them, and slid down from the seat. I was unaware of the danger I was in. My eyes didn't see the squealing tires around me. They were devouring the solidness of Jessica's face. The perfection of her sad smile, the glint of sunlight catching the moisture in her eyes. When the final car, unable to swerve around the disastrous scene around me, barreled toward me, I knew that I was going to die... and when pain engulfed me, my only thought was that my sister, my beloved sister, what the one who killed me.

Bright light assaulted my vision when I finally peeled first one and then the second eye open. My first thought was that my body wasn't working right. I tried to lift my head to explore my surroundings, but it was too heavy for my neck. I tried to sit up, but pain flowed through my veins. It was only then that I heard the whirring and beeping around me. Then I knew that I was in the hospital. Those last few moments flashed through my brain, so I hadn't died after all, I thought.

My mother's face swam above me after only being lucid for a few seconds. "Oh honey," she said on a sob, "we thought we'd lost you too."

I closed my eyes as pain stabbed through my heart. They almost had, I thought acidly. If Jessica had succeeded, they would have. "I...I...I'm..." I stammered, but my throat was dry and uncomfortably scratchy.

"Shh little ladybug," my dad said, coming up beside her, "you've been unconscious for a few days."

I blinked. Days? Panic filled me and I tried to sit up. I felt instantly as if I had forgotten something important; something that I was supposed to do... but there was nothing. Either there never had been something or my brain refused to allow the memory to surface.

My parents seemed to be fighting over who would hold my hand so I forced my other one closer, allowing each of them to cling to some small part of me. It was the first time since Jess had died that I had seen them together. It was too bad that it took another almost tragedy to force them into it.

"A few of your friends stopped by," my mother continued motioning to a table full of flowers and balloons.

There was something there, something on the table to trigged some sort of instinctual fear inside of me, but try as I might, I could not figure out what it was. There was nothing menacing about them. Nothing that would warrant such a sea of emotion to swell inside of me.

"Yeah, you just missed Spencer," my dad added.

Fear sprang up quickly and completely. I gripped my parent's hands and tried to slow my ragged breathing. That was when I saw her. Jess was once again peering at me sadly. This time she was standing just outside the open door of my hospital room. She was dressed the way she had been the last time I saw her and I wanted to scream at her to answer the questions that were beginning to imprint themselves in my head.

What did she want with me? What was she trying to tell me? Why was she here? What had happened to her? Had she been dating someone and kept it a secret from me? Why would she do that? Why had she died? How could she have left me so easily?

My lips remained closed tightly around my teeth and I closed my eyes, willing her image to fade away. When I opened them again, it was only to find that she had moved closer. Her gaze studying the back of our parent's heads. I squeezed my eyes closed again. When I opened them this last time, a scream erupted from inside of me.

Jessica, in all her ghostly glory, was mere inches from my face. Her eyes were trying to speak to me in ways that her mouth couldn't and both the frustration of not knowing what she wanted and the unexpected closeness had me tearing at the tubes connected to me and thrashing wildly on my bed. It took two nurses to hold me down while another one shot a sedative into my IV. I welcomed the blackness of oblivion when it took me.

Weeks later and things hadn't gotten any better. The start of college came and went without me. Locked inside of my sister's condo, I had begun to feel as if I had lost my mind. She never left my side now, that ghostly image of Jessica, and although it seemed like she wanted to tell me something, her voice remained silent.

The only visitors I allowed were my parents and Dr. Benning. I spent a lot of time with them. I would have thought that Jessica would be happy that Spencer hadn't bothered to come around again, but I knew that something was still bothering her. The flowers, cards, and balloons I had received from the hospital, laid untouched in the guest bedroom. I didn't have the energy to throw them out and I didn't have the desire to see who they had been from.

Not that it mattered anymore. My self-proclaimed insanity had pretty much isolated me from any remaining friends I had left after Jess died. Too much psychosis in such a short amount of time had pretty much labeled me a stigma.

It wasn't bad though... not entirely. This new development had my parents acting more in love than I had ever seen them before. While Jessica's murder had pushed them apart, my craziness had united them and brought them back together. Plus Dr. Benning was around a lot. There was something about him, something other than the fact he was a shrink that had a calming effect on me. I had begun to look forward to his visits more and more, even though they were more like the two of us hanging out than actual appointments. When he was around, it was the only reprieve I had from Jess anymore. It was almost like she was giving us privacy and I welcomed it.

It was on one of these days that I now found myself. The wind outside was turning bitter with the sting of fall in the air. I decided to run. Despite everything, I still kept up on that, it was one of the few times I breathed in fresh air and I tried to go at least a few times each week. I wasn't surprised to feel Jessica's presence beside me as I made my way to the trail. Sometimes it felt as if she too needed these moments to clear her head. But I was surprised when she spoke, she had been silent for so long.

"It's happening again."

My feet skidded to a halt, unsure if I had really heard her or not. She just looked at me expectantly, urging me to understand something that was beyond my comprehension. "What did you say?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes. I would have laughed had I not been so freaked out. "It's happening again."

Her voice was fuzzy, almost insubstantial and I frowned, my eyebrows snapping together. "What do you mean?"

"He's going to..."

She started, but almost immediately her face twisted in horror and she made a sound like she was choking; like the words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat. I turned to look behind me, and my blood turned to ice. I couldn't be positive, but I was almost certain that someone was following me. It was the way that this person ducked quickly off of the trail when I turned around and the flash of all black clothing, complete with a hooded jacket and glasses that made my heartbeat increase.

I turned back to Jessica, ready to demand the answers I needed, but she was gone. Shivers ran up and down my spine. She had said "he". Who was "he"? Spencer? Someone else? Had she really had a boyfriend that I didn't know about?

Part of me wanted to turn around, confront the person who had made the hair at the back of my neck stand up. But I didn't. It was the image of my sister on the day that she had been found that kept me moving forward, eagerly joining the crowds ahead. I hadn't been there, but the newspapers had exploited every detail of her murder.

They had found her in an alley a few blocks away from a local club. It was a place that her and her friends had hung out numerous times since they had started college. They had been with her that night; her other two best friends, Noelle and Katy, but they said they had left before her, leaving Jessica alone and partially drunk without the security of their presence. The security cameras had shown her leaving alone with her eyes focused on a cell phone, but no one else had claimed to know anything else and her phone records showed no evidence of any activity at the time she had left.

It was labeled a mystery. With no leads to go off of and no apparent motive, they had pretty much given up. At least they had once they had finally cleared Spencer of suspicion. Most were under the assumption that it had been a robbery gone badly, even though nothing was missing when she was found.

Moving as quickly as I could through the crowds of runners, I exhaled a sigh of relief when I was sure I had put whoever it was who had been following me, far behind. My muscles were burning from exertion and I called my mom as I began to head home.

"Mom?" I said when she picked up.

"Hello? Hello?" It was loud in the background wherever she was and that annoyed me. I needed her.

"Mom!" I shouted louder, gaining a few startled glances from the people around me. "Hey, it's McKayla. Something happened today and I don't want to be alone. Can you meet me at the condo?"

"Kay? Honey is that you? I can't hear you, what did you say?"

"Mom! Listen, I'm freaking out here. Please meet me at the condo." I hurried away from the park and began to quickly navigate the streets that would get me home, my phone pressed securely against my ear.

"Calm down honey, I can't understand you." Her phone began to break up, "in a few... be there... soon..." and then the line went dead and I could only pray that based on what I could make out, she'd be there.

I took the long way home, trying to give my mom some time to beat me there, but that didn't mean I trudged along slowly. On the contrary, I moved at an almost comical speed, throwing panicked glances over my shoulder every few steps. Some people stopped and stared at me with wide eyes, curiosity sparking within them, but no one stopped me.

When I finally approached the condo, I was disappointed to see the parking lot devoid of my mother's vehicle. Panic and exhaustion warred within me, but in the end, exhaustion won out and I hurried toward my door. Once there, I wished I had listened to panic.

There were flowers lying against my door.

Okay so most people would be curious, look for a note or a card or something... most people would appreciate the gift of something so unexpected and beautiful. That was after-all, part of the appeal of receiving flowers in the first place. But given everything that had happened these past months, I felt that my reaction was just as predictable.

I began to scream... and when Spencer showed up a few minutes later, I began throwing accusations at him so fast that he had no time or chance to dodge them. So when the police showed up, he lowered his head and allowed them to take him into custody. Not because of the flowers of course, no one believed my flimsy story, but it was the accusation of him following me that had him being taken to the station for questioning.

My parents were out of town, there was no one who could stay with me, so I called Dr. Benning. He assured both my mother and me that he would stay with me as long as I needed him, or until she could get there, whichever came first. Jessica hadn't come back. I was beginning to wonder again if I really had lost my mind, but that was for another night.

Dr. Benning, or Jared as he told me to call him, was making me dinner. It was nice. After the day I had just had, it was a good feeling to be taken care of. It was some sort of soup and the smell that was permeating the condo was spicy and comforting. I had spent most of the day curled on the sofa with a blanket while he flipped through the channels on the television. Feeling like I needed to stretch, I stood up and walked to the bar like counter that separated my kitchen from my dining room and watched him cook.

He handed me a tall glass of something to drink and I raised my eyebrows at him when I tasted it. "Wine? Wouldn't that be contributing to a minor?" I teased.

He smiled slyly and winked at me, "well you are eighteen, so it's not too bad." His smile gave me goose bumps.

I took a rather large gulp and then burped. A giggle escaped from between my lips and my hand flew to my mouth to cover both sounds. "I'm sorry. I don't usually react this way to wine."

I watched his hand reach out to brush a strand of hair from my face and I froze. I was getting those goose bumps again. "You're so beautiful McKayla."

He leaned forward and kissed me and I realized that the goose bumps were not a pleasant sensation. They were really rather more of a warning. The feel of lips pressing to mine felt horrible. He pulled back, mistaking my gasp of horror as a gasp of something much more favorable. It was then that I saw her. Tears were streaking down her cheeks and in her hand; she crumpled the flower that she had been holding.

"Jess?" I whispered, confused.

He pulled the band from my hair and pressed his nose into the loose strands. "Yes..." he groaned, "you look so much like her. She was so exquisite... like the flowers I gave her."

There was something wrong with me. My brain was becoming all fuzzy and my body was starting to feel heavy. I wanted to scream or run or both, but all I could do was look up at Jared with accusing eyes, my jaw opening and closing with no words coming out.

He smiled sadly and pulled the wine glass away from me. The wine! I thought. It had to have been drugged. "This is the only way I could have you. I've tried to get you to trust me, to get you to love me, but you've been blind to my advances. All of time we've spent together and you never even guessed at my true feelings for you." Then it was like he was talking to himself, "just like her sister... never even thought to give me a chance. I could have loved her... I did love her... I could have given her everything... oh well... the only way I can have her..."

His ranting went on, but I was losing focus. Jessica was there, whispering to me how sorry she was, how she had tried to warn me, how it had been too late for her. Then she was screaming at me, begging me to stay awake; to fight the drugs that he had used on me... trying to force me to stay awake... to stay alive. But it was no use. It was too late... The room spun out of focus and I felt my body begin to slide to the floor... then I was gone.

WAKE UP!

The voice boomed through my subconscious and my eyes flew open. It took me a few minutes to figure out where I was. My brain felt heavy and swollen, the thoughts too constricted to be coherent. It was dark where I was, the shadows bouncing off of the things around me and causing shifting shades of black and gray on the walls.

Then I saw the flowers... and the wilted balloons... and the stack of cards.

I was in my spare bedroom. The door was shut, but I wasn't tied to the bed. Even so, it took me a few minutes to sit up because my body felt stiff and unmanageable. I took that time to study the flowers before me. Why hadn't I noticed that there among the dead and decayed petals were exact duplicates of the flowers that Jessica had kept in her condo?

"I didn't know."

The voice surprised me. Especially when I saw Jess sitting beside me, staring at the dead flowers too. Her head was hung low and tears glistened on her cheeks. When she turned to look at me, devastation, regret and surrender where warring for dominance in her expression. She reached out and placed her hand on mine. It didn't pass through the flesh like you see in movies, but it also didn't feel solid either. It was just like a tingling sensation where I knew her hand should be touching mine.

"I didn't know that when I let him kiss me, it would open up a whole new facet to his obsession with me."

My heart constricted in fear, "what do you mean?"

She sighed, "When he began to give me flowers, at first I was flattered that someone as handsome and successful as he was could be interested in someone like me. I mean he's only ten years older than I was, but still, it had felt like so much more; especially since he was my shrink. I was seduced by the thought of some grand romance and I let myself succumb to it." She stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"You mean you and Dr. Benning were... dating?"

She smiled. "At first it felt like we were. I wanted to keep it a secret because I knew that mom and dad would never understand. They would say that he had taken advantage of me. I was scared. Then things got weird."

"What do you mean 'weird'?"

"He was jealous... of everything. School, my friends... Spencer; any time I spent away from him was time that he said we could never get back... time that he said I owed him. So I stopped talking to him. I wouldn't answer the door when he rang the bell, I wouldn't answer his calls, I stopped responding to his texts; anything I could do to distance myself from him, I did."

I stood up and walked toward her, her face was so empty, so devoid of emotion. "Then what happened?" But I knew... I already knew the answer. It had become clear to me as I was feeling the effects of the drug he had given me.

She spoke quietly, her face turned toward the ground. "Then he killed me." I gasped; a reaction that I knew was ridiculous since I had already known what she was going to say. When she raised her eyes and looked directly at me, I wasn't expecting what she would say next. "And now he's going to kill you too."

It had been a long tiring day. Being questioned at the police station was upsetting for almost anyone. Being questioned about something I knew absolutely nothing about, was incredibly draining. It was pretty damn insulting to keep getting interrogated about things I had nothing to do with. I had been held for questioning twice now, first with Jessica and now McKayla. It twisted my heart to know that anyone would even believe me capable of hurting anyone, let alone those two.

I sighed. It always seemed to be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then again, in my own defense, the only reason I had been at the condo today was because Mickey's mom had called me and asked me to be there. The last time I had seen her, McKayla had made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with me so I'd been trying to keep my distance.

Crap, I thought, now I had to figure out how to get back to McKayla's so that I could get my car. I kicked at a rock on the otherwise clean sidewalk and watched as it skittered away. It wasn't too terribly far from here, so I figured that I'd walk it. Maybe it would give me time to clear my head.

As they so often did, my thoughts turned to the Casen sisters. I had been friends with Jessica for as long as I could remember, but it had always been Mickey who stole my breath away. First I had been too scared to approach her. There had been me the gawky, geeky friend of her older sister and then there had been her, the beautiful vivacious baby of the Casen household. Then as we had gotten older, I had been too close to both her and her family. It had seemed almost incestuous the way I had loved her. It wasn't until about a year ago, just a few months before she had died, that I had finally gotten the nerve to talk to Jessica about my feelings for her sister.

She had laughed, I thought, remembering back to that conversation. When I had glared at her she had held up her hands in surrender. "It's just that I've always known how you felt about Kay," she had explained. "I'm surprised that no one else does."

"That's because everyone thinks I'm in love with you," I'd teased.

She had pretended to gag and then looked at me seriously. "You should tell her how you feel Spencer. Trust me you two are made for each other."

Made for each other.

Those words played over and over again in my head, teasing me with their promises; promises that I knew now could never be kept. Mickey didn't want me. On the contrary, she thought I had killed her sister and now she was certain that I was out to get her. If I hadn't been so destroyed by it, I would have been laughing.

I had reached the condo and looked up at her windows, light blazing in the darkness, and squeezed my eyes shut. The temptation to see her, to talk to her, to hear her laugh was almost too strong to ignore. Trying to keep my resolve, I kept walking until my hand was pulling the handle of my truck. It didn't budge. It was locked.

Digging through my pockets I tried to locate my keys and with another long drawn out sigh, I admitted that I didn't have them. "Must have fallen out when the cops were detaining me," I mumbled out loud. Determined to find them, I turned back toward the condo.

The door opened without a sound and I was grateful for the silence. Light assaulted my eyes and I had to squint against it until they finally adjusted to the brightness. Then I realized that it was too silent. I had no idea where Jared was or if he was even still inside. Beads of sweat began to drip down my back and my heart thumped in my chest.

If only I had Jessica to guide me, to be my lookout. But as soon as she had told her story, it was like she had faded away, too drained to find the strength to stay corporeal. So I was on my own... and I was terrified.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open a little more, pushing as slowly and quietly as I could... and then... Boom! The door was swung open and cashed against the wall. Jared was on the other side, his face a mask of amusement as if he was happy to see me.

"I've been waiting for you," he said cheerily. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't, and I began to whimper. He tsked, "don't be that way, everything is going to be perfect. We can be together now." He took a step closer to me and I cowered against the wall. "It's okay Jessica, I love you."

It was like a rock was dropped into my stomach. There was no hope then. It was apparent that he was crazy. I knew that there would be no reasoning with him and I was too weak to fight him.

"I'm not Jessica," I whispered so quiet that my voice could barely be heard.

"What did you say?" He asked, craning his head closer to catch what I was saying.

I looked up at him with tears streaming from my eyes, "I'm not Jessica."

He recoiled as if I had hit him. His once handsome face became distorted with rage and he lunged toward me and backhanded me as hard as he could across the face. "How dare you lie to me?!"

My head snapped back and thudded against the wall with an ugly crack. The edges of my vision began to black out, but I held on to consciousness, not willing to succumb to the unknown. He picked me up and carried me toward my bedroom... Jessica's old bedroom.

He had transformed the small space in my absence. Candles were lit on every possible surface and more flower petals were scattered across the room and the bed. Their fragrance combined was too strong and had me gagging at the smell.

Lying my gently on the bed, I began to shiver. My body began to shake so hard that my teeth were clattering together even though there was a sheen of perspiration over me. He was going to take what he wanted and then kill me... and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Fight."

Jessica's voice sounded from right beside me and I jumped when I turned and saw her. Her face was pale white and dark circles ringed her eyes. This wasn't the Jessica that had been visiting me in various states of attire; this was the Jessica from my nightmares, the one that the newspaper had shown from her murder scene.

Her hair was tangled and mottled to her head with dried blood. One side of her face was caved in from the blunt force of whatever he had hit her with, the bones there shattered and unable to hold the curve of her cheek. A fly crawled out of her nose, buzzed around for a second, and then climbed back in. But it was her eyes that truly terrified me. There was no life in them.

"I don't want to hurt you," Jared murmured above me. "I just want to love you. Would that be alright?"

Without waiting for me to answer him, he began trailing moist kisses along my jaw line. I closed my eyes, eager to just get it over with, ready to give up. It was then, in those darkest moments, that I felt Jessica slide into me. There was no other way to describe it. One minute I was in control of myself... and the next... I wasn't.

"No one kisses me the way you do," my voice purred. Only it wasn't really my voice. It was different.

Jared sensed the change too, pulling away from my body, his eyes widening in recognition. "Jessica?"

She pulled up too, closing the gap between them, her spirit making my body stronger. "I've missed you, baby."

Her arms, or my arms, wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. The kiss was ferocious, demanding penance for the things he had done. Then, all too sudden, it turned deadly. Her teeth, my teeth, clamped down hard on his tongue. I could taste his blood in my mouth, but it was her that smiled in triumph.

"You've been naughty, Jared... it's time that you pay."

She spat and blood splattered his face. He shrieked and fell backwards off of the bed. One of his hands flew up to cover his bleeding mouth and his eyes bulged from the sockets. "What is this?" He demanded. "Why are you acting like Jessica?"

She pouted, "I am Jessica."

"No you're not," he said, backing away from us, "this isn't funny McKayla."

"Oh I'm sure that McKayla thinks that this is very funny..." she cracked our knuckles, "but she isn't in control right now."

Thunder sounded in the distance and inside everything went black. I would have thought it was just a power outage, but even the candles had all been distinguished, leaving a haze of smoke in their wake.

It was his turn to cry... his turn to run. It was her turn to stalk him. He scurried away, keeping his face toward us so that he was backing away from us through the room and then out to the hallway of the condo. Gone was the handsome façade of the professional psychiatrist. In his place was a terrified shell of a man who had clearly lost his mind.

We cornered him in the living room and it was there, amid the various bouquets of dried flowers that we were going to finish him.

Was that a scream?

I was standing next to McKayla's door, my keys finally in my pocket after finding them where they had slid under a chair. It was when I turned to go, that I could have sworn I heard a scream. I stood there, debating what I should do until I heard something crash.

Without giving myself time to think about what I was doing, I grabbed the key that she had hidden on her stoop and pushed through the door. It was dark inside, but I heard whimpering coming from the living room.

"Mickey? It's Spence. Look, I know that you don't want me here, but..."

"Go away!"

It was her voice, but something about it had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "Are you okay? I heard a scream..."

"Now is not a good time Spencer."

Her voice was fairly steady, but while she was talking I heard the whimper again. It wasn't her.

Creeping my way into the living room I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. It was definitely McKayla standing there, but she had something large in her hands and she was holding whatever it was over her head like she was about to bring it down hard on whatever it was that was lying on the ground.

I strained my eyes. No. Not whatever... whoever. There was a body lying there. In the split second it took me to open my mouth to scream at her to stop, lightening flashed through the room, causing her reflection to appear in the mirror hanging above her sofa.

"Jessica?"

It was all the body had needed, that momentary distraction for it to lash out at Mikey's legs. Her body fell to the ground in a heap, but the face, Jessica's face, remained staring at me through the mirror. When the lightening flashed again... she was gone.

"Thank God... she was going to kill me. You saw her."

I recognized the voice before I recognized the face. I had only met him once, but I knew who he was. "What happened? Why was she trying to hurt you?"

I lowered my hand to him, annoyed that it appeared to be shaking, and helped him up. He collapsed, panting on the sofa and pressed his hand to his chest. The lights flickered back to life and I was surprised to see that he was bleeding pretty badly.

"Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath and stood, walking toward the kitchen and opened a briefcase that was resting on the table. "Yeah, thanks to you. All things considering, I really hate that I have to do this."

I frowned, confused. "Wha...?" But the question wasn't finished before I got the answer I had been seeking. He shot me and I crumpled to the ground.

When the shot rang through the condo, it was me who reacted. Without thinking about it, I threw the pewter candlestick I had been holding at the mirror and relished the sound of breaking glass. Then, as fast as I could, I grabbed the largest piece I could find and ran at Jared.

He dodged my strike and grabbed hold of my arm, twisting me into a choke hold. I saw Spencer's body sprawled across the floor and began to cry. "Not much good to you now, huh?"

"You won't get away with this," I vowed.

He laughed before licking my ear, the action sending shivers of disgust down my spine. "I don't plan on it. You and I," he pointed the gun he was holding at my chest, "we're going down together. We can both see Jessica in hell!"

He turned me and smashed my face into his with the hand that was holding the gun. The cold metal bit at my skin and his blood filled my mouth. I tried to fight by bringing up my knee as hard as I could between his legs, but he was quicker than me and deflected me easily. This was it. This was how I was going to die.

"Get your hands off of my sister you sick freak!"

Jared began to scream incoherently and I pushed away from him and rushed to Spencer's side. After a quick check, I was relieved to find him breathing. The gunshot had hit him in his shoulder... he was safe.

I turned my attention back to Jessica just in time to see her descend onto Jared. His eyes bugged even bigger than before and veins began to pop out on his forehead. His body began to shake and he fell to his knees. "I loved y..." he began, but blood began to spill from his nose and he fell face first onto the dining room floor.

Jessica turned and smiled sadly at me before looking down at Spencer. With a tender smile she motioned to the two of us and gave me her oh too familiar thumbs up. Tears mixed with the laughter that small action caused me. Then, almost as if she had never been there at all, Jessica left.

It took months to sell the condo.

Not that we had needed the money. It was just the closure that we had craved. Spencer and I had been living together for the past few weeks and I had never imagined that I could be so happy. He was perfect for me and I was perfect for him.

I hadn't seen my sister since that night and I hadn't betrayed her secret love to anyone other than Spencer. When the police had got there that night, it had been obvious that Jared Benning had been killed in self-defense. It was also determined when the found the small box of pictures of both Jessica and me in his office that he had been stalkerish obsessed with us. Case close. Life moved on.

Spencer and I were sitting at the table in our apartment when the knock came. We had been talking about the future... about our feelings for each other... and about the amazing person who had brought us together even after death.

Spencer asked me to answer it and I jumped up, always happy to do as he pleased. It was a delivery boy and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was holding in his hands.

"McKayla Casen?" I nodded, unable to speak. "These are for you."

He handed me his fragile gift and turned before walking down the hall. When Spencer came up behind me and put his arms around me, goose bumps spread over my exposed flesh. "Read the card," he whispered.

I did as he asked. It said simply "She always knew we were 'made for each other'."

The crystal glass slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor with a shatter. Water splashed over my feet and I nicked my bare foot on a piece of glass, but I ignored that. My only focus was on the blood splattered present Spencer had sent me...

Flowers.

Krystal George is the author of The Witches Lottery – Enchanted Island Series book 1, A Dragon Forsaken – Enchanted Island Series book 2, The Willows, and Guardian of the Realm: A Faerie Tale

As well as a featured author in Miraculous: Tales of the Unknown with is another Indie Author Anthology

She currently resides in Colorado with her amazing husband and her three beautiful children.

If you liked what you read, please give her other works a shot!

Find her on Facebook: Krystal McLaughlin George on Twitter @witcheslottery or her blog: krystalmclaughlin.blogspot.com

INK

By Cheryl Casey

Copyright 2013

Photo courtesy of K. Meador

Madison shoved her hands further into the pockets of her hoodie and kept walking. The search had taken her out of the bar district, filled with lights and cheerful music to a street where brick buildings hid abandoned junk behind dusty windows. A neon sign buzzed intermittently on a beer store with no one in it. A cat scavenging for crickets slipped into the shadows.

Madison wasn't sure if she was getting closer to her destination or if she should abandon the task and turn around while she could still find her way back. She walked a little faster and the dusty-windowed buildings soon gave way to busted windows and bent doors. Missing street lamps made it impossible to see beyond the next block.

Footsteps sounded behind her in quiet, shuffling starts and silent pauses. Her skin began to crawl and she quickened her pace, resisting the urge to break into a sprint.

Had her grandmother realized how dangerous this part of town was when she had sent her here? Madison had taken the envelope from her hand and stepped off the creaking porch, leaving her grandmother staring into the bayou. Her uncle had garbled something that sounded like, "Don't go Maddy," as she made her way down the dirt path. She had glanced over her shoulder to see his limping form pull back behind a corner of the house into the dark. A gate hung lopsided at the edge of the property where the gentle mutt, Dixie, had stopped and whined as Madison had walked on.

She hurried through a long stretch of darkness along the street, jumping at the skittering sounds coming from the blackness between buildings. Madison finally saw a storefront with a dim glow farther up the street and broke into the run she had been resisting. A glance at the envelope clutched in her hand confirmed that this was her destination.

A faded and peeling sign declared the building to be Lafayette Voodoo Museum. It didn't look like any museum she had ever been to, with its dark-curtained windows and crumbling brick walls, but she was relieved to see the Open sign in the door's window. Thank goodness, she breathed.

Madison turned the brass door knob, dented and grungy with years of use, and pushed the door open carefully. A smell, musty and odd, swirled over her as she stepped onto the worn wooden floor.

An aging cash register stood on a glass-case counter just inside the entrance. Madison reached out to place a hand on the counter but withdrew it with a start. Black candles lay stacked in a box under the glass. A wax snake coiled along the length of a solitary candle. Clusters of dried herbs and twisted roots were labeled and priced. Madison took a step back from the counter. Dark blue and brown vials with cork stoppers stood in rows on a wall of shelves. Black Salt, Dove Blood Ink, Clove Oil, Anise, Deer Tongue Extract, the labels read.

The tiny hairs on Madison's arms began to rise when she looked deeper into the shadows and glimpsed a large black candle in the shape of an ornate, rose-covered cross.

Madison was brought upright by a muffled sound from a room further back.

"Hello?" Madison managed.

Her heart was pounding. She wanted so much to turn around and leave. To take her chances on the dark streets behind her. But she clutched the envelope her grandmother had given her and waited for a reply.

"Yes?" came a soft voice.

"Um, m-my grandmother sent me. With an envelope."

"Come back here, child."

Madison followed the soft voice down a hallway crowded with small tables and stacked books. There was no light here except for the glow that spilled from a door ahead and to the left.

She peered into the candle-lit room where heady smell greeted her amid swirling smoke. A woman sat in the center of the small room. Her dark hair twisted and curled around her shoulders, she glanced at Madison with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Bring in a chair from the hallway. Have a seat."

Madison set a chair on the once-opulent rug, now tattered and faded. She sat and looked at the wall the woman faced. It was so crowded with things nailed to it and piled on an alter that it was hard to focus on any one item. The cracked photographs of faces became clear first. Half-empty liquor bottles, a curved knife, pendants hung from chipped statues, a cross made of small white bones. Curious odds and ends like a spool of thread, one well-worn glove, a lipstick-stained cigarette, and scattered dollar bills. Candles dripping wax and throwing shadows made the entire montage sway and skip in a morbid dance.

The room was too warm. Madison's stomach began to feel heavy and sick.

"Hand me the envelope, child."

She did as she was told. As her hand met the woman's dry skin, Madison's eyes landed on a dead cat at the back of the altar. It was dry and stiff, its fur missing except in the creases of its legs and paws, moth-eaten holes in its skin. The candle light pulsed and Madison felt something dreadful pushing at her mind, pushing at her body to leave this place. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she released the envelope to grip the edges of the chair.

The woman was saying something but time slowed down around Madison. The air was thick between them and she could only see the woman's mouth moving as she glanced at Madison and unfolded the contents of the envelope.

Madison tried to stand and obey the overwhelming need to leave but the rug rose up to meet her, or did she lie down on the rug? She couldn't tell if her legs were moving, she could only look up at the smug smile of the woman holding her grandmother's letter.

The woman stood and took the few steps to the altar. She picked up a small blade, then lunged down to where Madison lay and made a quick stick into her hand. Madison barely felt the pain and was too heavy on the floor to move away. The woman's eyes showed too much white as she turned back to the alter and thrust the blade through the letter so that it hung open from the front of the altar.

The letter fluttered in a phantom breeze as Madison tried to focus on it but her brain felt thick and her grandmother's heavy scrawl swam on the page. Fighting gravity, she strained up on one elbow. The woman's low chuckle seemed to cause the ink on the letter to assemble into focus.

It worked. My son lives.

The girl is yours.

My debt is paid.

Slow realization and then terror flooded through Madison. She began to struggle toward the door and the hallway beyond. A glance back at the woman showed the same smug smile rolling into a low chuckle that bounced over Madison and tried to drag her back.

Madison gripped the edge of the door and pulled herself into the hallway, scrambling on her hands and knees.

A sharp "Ssssstt!" from the woman sent an oily shadow slipping from the room and down the hallway. It darkened the floor and the walls and grasped at Madison's ankles, twining its way up under the legs of her jeans. She kicked and screamed and continued to pull herself along the floor. She could see the front door standing open. If she could just make it that far and into the streets.

The inky shadow ran over her shoulders and out onto the floor in front of her, then it rose up to slash pain across Madison's face. She screamed and tried to hit back at nothing. It grabbed onto her finger tips, darkening them with its morbid stain. It crawled up her arms and onto her neck as she slapped and clawed at her own flesh. The oily shadow slipped over her jawline and seeped into the four thin claw marks on her cheek.

Madison's vision slowly cleared and the contents of the hallway swam into focus. She continued to crawl, close to the floor, blinking away the high contrast objects around her. As she neared the front door, the push to leave became less urgent. Her progress slowed and she pressed her side against the counter as she passed it.

She came to a halt at the open door. Her ears twitched at the sound of the woman behind her. She sat back on her haunches and curled her tail around her feet.

The woman, bending to pick her up, purred in her soft voice, "It's so good to have you back."

Madison stretched open her mouth on a scream but the satisfied feline only yawned.

~'~,~'~

Cheryl Casey is an artist and writer. Her book One Good Redneck Mama, a humorous look at rattlesnake safety, fending off bullies, and dealing with psycho drama queens in the heart of Texas, hit the top 100 in family relationships the first week of its release. Find it here http://amzn.com/B00AM7W2UW on Amazon.com

Cheryl also writes and illustrates children's books and designs book covers, including this one. Her pre-designed book covers are for sale at http://www.ccrbookcoverdesign.storenvy.com

Midnight Snack

By: Amanda Alberson

©2013 by Amanda Alberson

Titus looked across the room at his little sister. Her round eyes alert as she looked back at him. Lightening cracked outside, throwing long shadows across the wall and causing them both to jump.

"Titus, I hungry." Adelaide whispered.

"I know but I heard something downstairs, hush."

He tried to think of a plan, but the crashing thunder and Adelaide's whining distracted him. Staying home alone with his sister seemed like an easy thing to do. Although it took him over an hour to convince their parents he could handle it. Honestly he expected a boring night of watching T.V., eating snacks and ordering his sister around. What he had not expected was a sudden storm, a power outage and strange noises from downstairs. The power blinked off only moments earlier as he and Adelaide headed down for a quick bite. In the darkness Titus heard the rattle of the backdoor knob, then the unmistakable sound of someone shaking the door, testing the bolt lock. His breath caught in his throat as his heart swelled like a balloon, threatening to burst. Adelaide's tiny hand squeezed his as she looked up at him with fearful, anxious eyes. He forced a deep rattling breath into his clenching lungs and put on a brave face. Still holding his sister's hand in his he couldn't help but notice her fingers were still plump with toddler chub, her skin impossibly soft. He looked down at her, she was just a baby and it was his job to take care of her, storm and strange noises be damned.

His foot barely touched the top step when the sound of shattering glass almost stopped his heart. Scooping Adelaide up into his arms he rushed back towards his room.

"Titus."

"Shh, Adelaide, it's okay." He could feel her heart pounding against her thin chest. Her small body shook in his arms. The sound of the backdoor creaking open echoed up the stairs making the hairs on his neck and arms stand on end.

"I'll protect you Addie I swear." He quickly whispered in her ear.

Gently, he deposited her into the folds of his comforter, before running to the closet. Using the baseball bat he'd hit two homeruns with last season he dislodged the hidden panel in the ceiling that led to the crawl space attached to the attic.

"Come here Addie." He said quietly into the darkness. Hesitantly Adelaide moved off the bed, whimpering as she made her way to him.

"Addie I need you to hide up here in my closet. I know it's dark and scary but it's the best place. Do you understand?" He held her tiny head in his hands, rosy, round cheeks pushed between his fingers. Lightening flashed reflecting in her giant brown eyes, exposing the tears gathering in them.

"Um hmm, but I still hungry." She pouted.

"I'll go get a snack, just wait here." Titus said as he handed her the small camping lantern he kept on the shelf. Titus would never admit it but he used the lantern often when he woke up in the middle of the night with a dire need to pee. Grunting he hoisted the quivering mass his sister had become up to the top shelf. From there she scurried into the dark hole in the ceiling. Titus waited impatiently for the panel to fall back into place before gripping the bat tighter and heading towards the stairs.

Billy stepped around the glass on the floor and tried to see into the inky darkness of the house. He'd been casing the place for over a week, and got a lucky break when he saw the people leaving before the storm. The power outage was just an added bonus, a sign that tonight was his night. He listened carefully as the house moaned against the storm, water rolled from the short tips of his hair streaking down his face. Somewhere there were two kids still in the house, probably still asleep. Billy reached into his back pocket pulling out his favorite knife. He flicked open the razor sharp blade and crept towards the living room. If he ran into the kids he'd take them out slowly. A smile tugged at his thin cracked lips, part of him hoped he would run into them. Billy thrived on the pain and fear of others, and nothing was more pure than the fear children felt. His insides quivered with perverse joy as he recalled his very first murder. His smile widened as the memory rushed over him in the dark. The crash of thunder outside reminded him of the sound of the trains he'd loved so much.

Every day after school little Billy Weiser walked through the train yard on his way home. He loved the rumble of the trains and the organized chaos of the multi-line switching station. His very favorite spot though was further back, a make shift train car graveyard full of busted up old rail cars and a rundown wooden shack. Billy spent most of his afternoons wandering around the old train yard or sitting in the shack, anything to kill time until the sun went down. Once the sun dipped below the horizon Billy knew his father would be exhausted from beating his mother and so far into the bottle he'd be passed out, that was the only time he was safe.

One particularly hot afternoon Billy spotted a girl walking through the train yard. She was older than him, a freshman in high school, he guessed, with long blonde hair and tight jean shorts. When she saw Billy she hesitated. The knees of his old jeans were worn out and his face was dirty from exploring the empty cars.

"Hey are you okay?" She asked stepping towards him. An idea formed in Billy's small brain. He tried not to smile as he willed tears to form in his eyes.

"I was down here playing with my dog and he ran off after something, will you help me look for him? Please." He looked up at her and tried to use the same big pleading eyes he'd seen his mother use on his father. They never worked on Bill Sr. but they drew the girl closer to him.

She followed Billy through the yard, back towards the old empty shack. He stopped every few feet and hollered for a dog that didn't exists. When they stepped into the shack he caught her off guard, slamming a piece of busted pipe against her knee. Her body dropped to the dirty floor, her eyes wide with fear.

In his excitement he killed her all too quickly, bashing her repeatedly in the head with the pipe, relishing in the tiny whimpering sounds she made each time he struck her. Over the years he learned to control his emotions, learned the power of pain and the pleasure of the pitiful pleas of his victims.

Reaching out into the darkness Billy sneered as he pushed a lamp from its perch.

Titus froze two steps from the bottom of the stairs when he heard the crash just feet away. He nearly dropped the bat, his palm slick with sweat. He listened closely, the sound of quick, ragged breaths; excited breaths, filled his ears. Titus's nose wrinkled, the person, mostly likely a man from the stench of him was just around the corner. Crouching low he crawled into the living room on three legs, making sure he held tight to the bat. His heart pounded erratically in his chest and he prayed the man in the house couldn't hear it. He prayed even harder that Adelaide would stay hidden and that his parents were on their way home. He should have called them as soon as the power went out, but he didn't want to look like a baby, so he was on his own. Slowly he crept across the Oriental rug sidling up to the end of the couch. The storm receded and the lightening came less frequently, his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him. Standing just at the opposite end of the couch Titus could see the lanky silhouette of a man. In the darkness he looked like a mere shadow.

"I can hear you breathing kid, come on out, I won't hurt ya." The shadow called. Titus's skin crawled, he could hear the evil sneer wrapped around the words that reeked of lies. Titus hated liars, almost as much as he hated this poor excuse of a man that stood in his home threatening his baby sister and himself. He tried again to form a plan. He had some advantages on his side, he knew the house and its crawl spaces, he knew the loose board to the basement, the one he hopped over each time he went down the steep steps. An idea grew, if he could get the man to chase him down the hall and into the cellar, maybe he would trip and fall. When he was on the ground Titus could attack him, hurt him and hopefully keep Addie safe.

Titus took a deep breath and stood, his fingers locked around the smooth grain of the bat.

Billy nearly gasped in surprise. The damn kid just popped up outta nowhere. Judging by his height he couldn't be any more than 12. Billy flicked his tongue across his lips, he'd have the boy hollering for his momma in no time. He waited just for a moment to see what the boy would do. He tilted the knife in his hand, hoping the steel would catch just a hint of light so the boy would see it shine in the darkness.

"Come here boy." Billy sneered.

"Get outta my house mister, now." Came the reply.

Billy was shocked at the steadiness in the boy's voice. So far he wasn't showing any fear, but that would change soon enough. Billy faked to the left making the boy run to the right. In two quick steps Billy cleared the couch and caught him by the collar. He let the cold tip of the knife touch the soft part of the boy's throat.

"Where you headed boy?" Billy laughed, tracing the thin line of the boy's collar bone with the point of his blade.

"My name's not boy, it's Titus, and I warned you to get out of my house." His voice was steady but his small body shook in Billy's grip. The game had begun.

"Where's that pretty little sister of yours, Titus?" He asked leaning down close to the boy's ear.

"She's not here, she went with my parents."

"Aww, now Titus, we both know that's not true." Billy let the tip of the knife slide across the thin skin at the top of the boy's arm. His grip tightened on the collar when the boy gasped, the smell of iron began to fill the room.

"She's such a tiny little thing isn't she? You wanna know what I'm gonna do with her when I find her? Or do you want to figure it out from her screams?" He dragged the knife across Titus's arm again, forcing another gasp from him.

A low growl escaped Titus's lips just as he grasped the man's arm with both hands. His nails bit into the soft flesh around Billy's wrist. When he heard the knife clatter to the floor he sank his juvenile incisors into the arm. Billy grunted in pain striking out at Titus with his free hand. The blow caught him right on the side of the head causing a burst of stars to fill his vision. He clamped down harder, feeling the skin break and the warm blood to run down his chin. Repulsed, Titus refused to let go. Billy snatched him by the hair trying to shake him loose, but Titus was on him like a leach.

The man tasted terrible, his skin felt slick with rain and sweat. Titus fought the urge to gag as his tightened his jaw. His head pounded, his vision still blurry when the man struck him again. Falling to the wood floor jarred him but his teeth continued to gnaw the man's arm.

I've got to make it to the cellar, he thought to himself. When the man bent down in another attempt to free his arm, Titus threw his head back with as much force as he could. The sick cracking sound reverberated in the living room. As the man clasped his face trying to dam the rush of blood from his newly broken nose, Titus bolted towards the kitchen. His bare feet slapped against the cold tile. The rain was no longer falling outside but the floor was still wet from the broken window. Titus jumped hoping to clear the water and broken glass on his mad dash towards the cellar door. Pounding feet and mumbled curses followed him closely. His trembling hands grasped at the knob, rotating at it furiously, before he realized it was locked. Frantically he turned to grab the key from the fruit bowl on the counter. The key slipped from his quaking hands and clattered into the darkness. He turned to dash through the dining room when the shadows shifted.

"BOO."

Titus ran into the man, yelping as he backpedaled towards the kitchen. Hollow laughter followed him across the wet tile as he turned back into the living room. The slow, heavy step of the man echoed from the kitchen. Titus ducked into the hall closet, pulling the door closed as quietly as he could. Surrounded by his parent's winter coats and his father's golf umbrella Titus fought to control his breathing. The sounds of footsteps stopped and he couldn't tell if the man stopped moving or if he'd stepped onto the carpet in the living room. Every muscle in Titus's body clenched in fear. Beads of cold sweat rolled down his back leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He sat and waited to be found.

Billy's blood boiled. Not only did this kid, this freaking little K-I-D not shown him the fear and respect he deserved, he'd broken his nose. He'd learn his lesson though, that was for sure. He stood looking around the living room. There was no way the kid had time to make it up the stairs, so he had to be down here somewhere. Billy began whistling a low, mournful tune, something his father would whistle as he walked through the house, hunting for his next beer, or victim. He stalked past the stairs raking the tip of his blade along the wooden banister. He came to the master bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. He kicked it open, laughing maniacally. Nothing moved in the darkness of the room so he continued on, dragging the knife along the wall. A smile crept across his thin lips.

"GOTCHA!" He yelled as he jerked open the closet door. He grabbed the boy up in a flurry of jackets and unused junk.

"Did you think you could hide from me, boy?"

The boy glared back defiantly at him, Billy tried not to lose control. Snatching a handful of short brown hair he jerked him out of the closet, shaking him for good measure.

"Let's go find that baby girl, whaddya say?"

Titus became a whirlwind of arms and legs, thrashing and lashing out at Billy. He dragged him to the bottom of the stairs, where Titus grabbed at the railing and tried to pull himself free.

"Hey, little girl, I got your brother down here. You better come save him!" Billy shouted up into the blackness. The stairs creaked beneath his feet and he dragged the still fighting Titus up into the darkness. He paused at the crest of the stairs listening for a sound.

Titus held his breath, praying that Addie would stay where he told her. His scalp burned and his heart raced as they both waited.

"I told you she's not here asshole." Titus growled at him through gritted teeth.

Without a word the man dragged Titus back down the stairs and tossed him on the couch. Titus tried to spring to his feet but a mud covered boot landed squarely on his chest, keeping him down.

"Let's play a game then, since it's just you and me." The man sneered at Titus and he felt his stomach drop. Even in the dim light the silver blade glinted turning Titus's insides to ice water. He looked up into the man's dead eyes trying to memorize every detail of his face. If he lived through this he wanted to be able to point him out.

Dirty, short, black hair, dead washed out blue eyes, paper thin white skin, and weak, cracked lips. Titus chanted the description in his head over and over.

Billy jerked one of the boy's legs up off the couch, holding the squirming foot in the air. Cold steel slid against the bottom of the foot. Titus gasped but did not move.

"Here's the game, we see how many times I can cut the bottom of your foot before you starting howling and your sister comes running downstairs. And that's when the real party starts." Billy threatened, still sliding the blade up and down against his foot.

Bile rose in Titus's mouth. He steeled himself against the thought of what this man would do to his baby sister as the cold blade slid across the width of his foot where fire broke out spreading a searing, white hot pain that took him to the brink of unconsciousness, but he did not scream. Titus bit his lip, tasting the blood as it seeped into his mouth. He refused to make a sound, he knew the man was getting angry, the fingers wrapped around his ankle were digging into his skin. He hoped he would pass out before he screamed, if Addie stayed in the closet she would be safe and that was all that mattered.

A storm of rage clouded Billy's thoughts. This kid should be screaming, he should be begging, he should be offering his sister for a moment of relief and yet he lay perfectly still, mouth clenched shut, his own blood trickling from his foot and his lip and not a word. Well, Billy was up for the challenge. He knew how to make the boy break. His fingers curled into the cotton T-shirt and jerked Titus into the sitting position. Billy knelt down eye to eye with him and smiled. Wiping the blood off on the couch cushion he brandished the blade millimeters from the boys right eye.

"You ever seen an eyeball pop?" He sneered. A look of absolute terror filled the boy's face. That's what Billy was looking for. He smiled even wider as the blade poked at the edge of Titus's eye. Caught up in his own sick game of torture Billy didn't hear the sound behind him. He never would have known what hit him if he hadn't caught a glance in the reflection of the boy's eye. A tiny figure raised a bat behind him and swung.

Titus almost shouted when he saw Adelaide appear behind the man. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest causing it to ache. Then he watched as she raised the bat, her hands choked up almost past the handle. The hardwood crashed against the man's skull causing his eyes to roll up into his head as he crumpled to the floor.

"Run Addie! Head to the cellar." Titus hobbled behind her as she dashed towards the kitchen. His foot screamed in protest, leaving angry pools of crimson everywhere he stepped.

The house remained quite as they skittered toward salvation. He scrambled in the dark and found the key on the floor. It slid effortlessly into the lock and turned, clicking loudly. Addie flipped the light switch on the wall in vain as Titus pulled the door closed behind them. The inside of the door only had a thin slide bar lock, an illusion of safety in the face of the danger coming for them. The cellar was dimly illuminated by the moonlight glaring through the small web filled windows. Titus carefully guided his sister down the steep steps.

"You okay?" Adelaide asked, her lower lip jutting out as she stared up at her older brother.

"Yes, it's just a few scratches, they'll heal up in no time." He assured her.

"What were you doing downstairs, why didn't you stay in the closet?" Titus asked her as they descended into the basement. He lifted her carefully over the broken step still waiting for an answer.

"He said you needs savin. So I came save you." The soft ringlets of her hair hung damply, framing her face and Titus fought the urge to kiss her forehead like their mother always did.

"Thank you Addie, you're my hero." He chuckled softly.

"If we're extra quite I think we'll be safe, do you want a snack now?" He asked moving towards the walk-in pantry door.

"No," her head shakes emphatically left to right, "tummy too sacred for snacks."

"Okay, we'll wait." He moved towards the sofa, pulling Adelaide up next to him and wrapping them both in the blanket his mom kept thrown over the back. The minutes dragged, every sound, every creak or moan the house made caused them to jump and scoot closer together.

Billy shook his head, trying to clear it out. His heart pounded in his temples and everything looked blurry. Gripping the edge of the couch he rose slowly to his feet. Inhaling sharply Billy ran his hand lightly over the lump on the back of his skull.

Damn kid swings like Babe Ruth

Testing his steadiness Billy stumbled toward the kitchen. He knew exactly where they went, and when he got his hands on them they'd be sorry. He sneered as he followed the smeared bloody foot prints through the kitchen to the cellar door. The knob turned but the door refused to open. Rage engulfed him, like a caged animal he roared and threw his entire body against the door, thrashing and kicking.

Adelaide screeched as the sound of the basement door imploding rang through them both. Titus dragged her to the furthest corner, cursing the "security" bars his father placed over the windows last summer. The full moon mocked him, hanging freely just on the other side of the glass and iron. He was still glaring at the moon when Addie was ripped from his grasp. Titus turned on his heel, horror nesting in his chest as he watched the man lift her from the ground.

"Look what I caught me." The man jeered. Addie kicked and whined as she hung several feet from the cold concrete floor.

"Let her go, I won't run from you, I won't fight, just let my sister go." Titus stepped towards them both.

"Oh no, sorry, no bargaining here. I owe this one a good knock to the head." He shook her small body with each word. Her brown eyes held Titus's captive. The man reached back to strike her, Adelaide braced for it and howled loudly in protest. Titus's world got small in an instant. The walls closed in and all he could see was his sisters screaming face. He thought of his mother and father, he thought of the promise he made Addie earlier, to protect her.

A scorching fury replaced all of his fear. Adrenaline flooded his muscles. He growled with rage. Addie and the man both stopped and stared in disbelief at him. His whole body burned from the inside. When he licked his lips he could taste the air around him, it was thick with fear and sweat. His bones creaked and popped, his skin itched and felt tight around his muscles. His heart that only moments ago raged against his chest now beat with a strong, slow rhythm. His vision became sharp as he stepped towards the man holding his sister. His muscles quivered with each step, a new strength pulsing within. He howled furiously at the man. With each step the man seamed to shrink, Titus felt taller, stronger. Somewhere far off in the night two dogs bayed at the moon making Titus smile, his parents were coming home. The look of fear and confusion on the man's face and triumph on Addie's was the last thing Titus remembered.

A cold cloth woke him. Someone was wiping his forehead and whispering to him gently. Titus lurched up, every inch of his body screamed in pain.

"No, no lay down honey. It's okay. We're here." His mother's hand brushed lightly across his cheek.

Tears burst free from him, followed by deep, infuriated sobs. All of his fear, all of his anger, everything poured from him as his mother rocked him gently.

"Where's Addie?" He pushed away from her, frantic, desperately trying to remember what happened.

"She's in the kitchen having a snack." His father's voice called from the doorway.

"Dad! There was a man, and he broke the window! He chased us, he had Addie!" His mother sobbed as he recounted what he could remember.

"I know son. You did a good job." He father sat on the edge of his bed and ruffled his hair.

"Come to the kitchen, Addie's been worried about you."

Titus moved slowly, his body ached with every step. He felt as if he'd fallen from a moving car, down a hill and into a rock pile. Addie sat at the kitchen table smiling from ear to ear as he approached.

"Titus!" She swiped her hand across her mouth smearing cherry red across her rosy cheeks. Seeing her standing in the kitchen her tiny curls bouncing as she ran to him brought it all back. He turned towards his father a smile tugging at his lips.

"I did it?" He asked.

"Yep, youngest in the family son, wait until Uncle Fergus finds out." His dad clapped him on the shoulder.

"Snack, Titus?" Addie asked holding out the severed index finger of the man.

"Don't worry I washed it," his mother laughed seeing him curl his lip at the finger.

Titus smiled taking the finger from his little sister as he kissed the top of her head.

"I told you I'd get you a snack." He laughed.

He crawled into bed that night, his body exhausted but his smile persisted. He would be the youngest in the whole pack to transform before his 16th birthday. The youngest werewolf in all of North America, maybe the whole world.

Thanks for reading our horror anthology I hope you enjoyed it as much as we loved writing it! Hopefully, you've found some new favorite authors as well as read something new by some of your old favorites! Check out other works by all the great authors and show them your love by spreading the word about their books.

I have one published book 'Losing Connor' and plenty more on the way! You can find more examples of my work at www.rayneedazewriting.weebly.com and you can contact me at either mandy.alberson@gmail.com or on FB at https://www.facebook.com/RayneeDazeWriting

I love writing and I love hearing from readers, so please feel free to contact me!

You Never Know What You'll Find

By: Lorne Oliver

©2013 by Lorne Oliver

"I dare you."

"I double dog dare you."

"Seriously, dude? Are we in some Stephen King novel now? Are you going to say, you bet your fern?" Spencer snorted. "You can dare me all you want I'm not sleeping in that barn."

It was a long building that had probably once held cows and horses, maybe some chickens at one time, but for as long as anyone alive could remember the family that had owned the property had always just used it for storage. From the doorway Spencer Alcrest and his friends could see furniture that had been forgotten, boxes of paperwork, there was a crate of old license plates too. A lot of the items were covered in old sheets. At the very far end was an old tractor – the kind with a metal seat – that had one of its large tires flat to the floor, with pieces sticking out of the engine like people had probably come and scavenged what they needed. There were old stalls down at that end that animals had been in. From what the boys could see old ropes and tools hung over the wood sides. Forgotten leather tack, dark and cracked was left there too. They hadn't even gone up to the second floor. It was like one of those barns you saw on those TV shows where people went looking for forgotten treasures.

Spencer wasn't going to be picking for hidden finds, however, he had to clean out everything. His father liked to buy rural properties for the summer, fix them up, and sell it at a profit, but wanted the entire barn cleaned out first. The deal was that Spencer was allowed to sell everything and got to keep the money. It was going to help with going to college in September.

"I thought you said the haunted stories were bull?"

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "They're just stories. There's no such thing as ghosts."

"You haven't lived here long, man. We've seen lights in here in the middle of the night."

"Noises too. We came here last Halloween and I swear I heard a girl laughing in there."

"Maybe it was your friends laughing at you. We've been in the house three weeks and I haven't seen or heard anything." Spencer looked away from the other two boys back to the barn. The outside walls were black from years of being untreated in the elements. You could see where some of the boards had rotted away leaving holes and lines that sunlight went through. The wind picked up and made the tin roof call out where it had broken free of the nails. He ran a hand back through his short spiky hair to try and hold the sudden chill that made his body shiver. He hadn't seen anything because he stayed away from this side of the house the moment the sun went down.

"If you don't think there's anything in there then why don't you prove it?"

"Yeah, man, prove it."

Spencer only met the two boys three weeks earlier. Jimmy and Cam lived just down the road. The three of them had gone fishing and swimming by the Pine River falls and rode their dirt bikes around the gravel roads looking for whatever trouble they could get into.

"I'll stay in there."

All three turned at the soft voice behind them. Spencer's foster sister stood there with her hands on her hips. Her pouty, Angelina Jolie, lips were in a wicked smirk. She wore blue jeans with a hole on each knee and a pink tank top with the name of the dance school she went to across her small boobs. She had the tanned skin of Aboriginal roots. Chrys waited a second then crossed her arms in front of her.

"See, she's not afraid. I bet you, you can't spend the whole night in there."

"Bet?" Spencer smiled showing his dimples.

~ * ~

Spencer threw his rolled sleeping bag on the crimson couch. It was what his mother would have called a chesterfield. It had just one long cushion on it instead of three separate ones. He and Chrys had cleared it off plus some extra space around. On top of the couch had been a few boxes of books and a hard shelled lime green suitcase. They had a battery operated lantern sitting on a tall bedroom dresser and a handful of stubby candles sitting on dinner plates around their small cleaned up area.

"Mom's not coming back until tomorrow, right?" Chrys had been part of the family since she was three so Mr. and Mrs. Alcrest were Dad and Mom to her. "She'll kill us if she sees we used her plates as candle holders."

"Probably not until after lunch." The Alcrest's owned a pub in the city. Their parents spent most nights at their regular home expecting their eighteen year old son to watch his twelve year old sister. Spencer was just happy they weren't fostering any other kids at the moment. There were times when they had four extra kids in the house. "Let's just set up and go to sleep."

"But it's so fucking early."

"It's ten o'clock. And you shouldn't swear like that." He slid a board into the slots on the inside of the barn doors to lock it. His black sweatpants already had dust smeared across them. He wore a shirt with The Alcrest Pub on it. "I just want to get tonight over with."

Chrys dropped onto the couch. She slipped off her flip-flops and pulled both bare feet up under her as she tugged some of the boxes closer. "You're scared." In the first box she found old copies of Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, The Adventures of Pooh, and Alice in Wonderland.

"I'm not scared."

Spencer looked around the room. They had a small circle lit up, but there were a lot of creepy shadows and the further you got down the building the blacker and thicker those shadows seemed to get. It was still light outside, but it was fading and only a little of that came through the cracks. The property was down a long driveway, far enough from the road that they only heard faint noises when a loud truck went by.

Anything could be standing in the dark, he said to himself. His imagination liked to put things into his head.

Chrys screamed. She pushed the box away sending hard covered novels scattering across the dirt floor.

"What?"

"A spider. There was a spider."

"Oh big tough girl can stand up to ghosts, but a little spider makes her scream."

"Shut up."

"This place is probably full of spiders and snakes and who knows what else. There could be raccoons living somewhere in here." Spencer flipped the lid of the cooler he had packed for the night. The bet with the other boys had been for fifty dollars. They couldn't leave the barn for any reason during the night. He threw a bunch of things into the cooler so that they would have something to eat and drink through the night. He took out a bottle of Pepsi and cracked open the top. He still hadn't thought about the bathroom problem.

"We should explore." Chrys slipped her feet back into her flip-flops and pulled a pen flashlight from her pocket. She climbed over the arm of the couch and carefully maneuvered around some boxes. She couldn't see much away from the circle of candles. The sun was going behind the forest line so natural light was quickly being lost.

"What are you, Chrys -" Spencer growled as he snatched the lantern up and headed into the depths of what had been collected over years and years. His father told him it could be like that guy who bought a farm and found a barn full of antique automobiles. He doubted that. The place had been empty for five years so anything good had probably been liberated. "Be careful. We don't know all that's in here."

He watched his foster sister climb over things, picked something up turned it around in her hands, and then dropped it and continued on.

Chrys didn't know what she was looking for. Some of the boxes were warped from moisture. "Oh don't be a chicken shit." She picked up a teddy bear and flipped it around in her hands. One button eye was missing and one paw had been chewed open. Creepy.

The bear dropped. It hit the dust on a box sending a little cloud in the air. Chrys turned to her left. Her breath caught in her throat. Something had been there. She saw it move. "Did you see that?"

Spencer scraped the bottom of his shoe on a pile of boards. "What?" What the hell did he step in?

When he realized Chrys hadn't answered he looked up. His foster sister stared at the side wall. A sheet covered something big. The air was still.

"I saw someone move." Not something, some ONE.

Her skin had paled. Spencer watched her staring at the mountain of sheet. There was no wind inside the barn moving things around. Maybe it was the light from the lantern that cast a shadow. She must have seen it out of the corner of her eye.

"Cut it out, Chrys." The hair on the back of his neck was standing up.

"I'm not kidding, Spence. Someone walked past me. I saw like a dress moving as they walked."

His head cocked to the side. There was no way. "Someone? You saw someone?"

"Well, like out of the corner of my eye, yeah."

"Oh please. Your minds playing tricks on you. I moved the lantern and you thought you saw something."

"Whatever, Spence." She turned back the way she had been going. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her. Either way the skin on her arms felt like it was crawling.

Just past a stack of wood framed windows leaning against a wall, Spencer was afraid the weight would topple the whole building, he found a work bench. It had wood drawers and cubby holes. There were cut marks and paint stains on the top. Lined up against the back, under a dirt covered window, were plastic margarine containers, tobacco bins, and Folgers coffee tins. They held nails, screws, and bolts – some rusted. Leaning against the side was an old broom – the straw warn down almost to the handle. He pictured a sad rodeo clown sweeping the whole entire barn floor and then starting over again. He wouldn't put his aqua eyes on the window pain. Why did he have to picture a clown?

He gave each drawer a tug. The only one to open had chewed up paper, feathers, and wood chips. A mouse must have called it home. What was going to be in the other ones? There could be money or jewels or anything that could fill his wallet. Or the clown's collection of fingers he bit off with his own teeth.

Why did he have to think things like that?

Chrys studied the ground with her pen light. Part of her hoped to see footprints in the dust, there were none. As she came around a tall dresser her brown eyes fell on a bike leaning against a tarp. It was one of those old bikes with a metal basket attached to the handlebars. It had a large fender over the back flat tire. The tarp it was on covered something big and long, about car length, longer even. She put her hand on the bike seat, her palm smeared the dust off the old leather. She carefully leaned it the other way until it was against a pile of boxes marked X-mas.

Something tugged her hair. She ran a hand through her long dark locks. She touched something. She stopped. Was she touching it or it touching her? Chrys spun quickly flashing her light along as she did. Pitch forks, boxes, an old saddle, snow shovel, a face, a yellow raincoat, antlers, a hula-hoop, her brother. He was at least thirty feet away along the side wall. He couldn't have tugged her hair.

A face.

She ran the pen light back the way it had come seeing everything in reverse. The yellow raincoat was there. It looked as if it was so old and dry that it would crack and fall if anyone touched it. Next was a snow shovel, the wood handle held to the wall by two nails beneath the metal scoop.

"What are you doing?"

"I saw," a face. "I felt," my hair get tugged. Chrys blinked quickly and looked at her foster brother. "I think this place is getting to me."

Spencer suddenly held his breath. "Did you hear that?"

Chrys ran her hand through her hair again and shook it out. "What?"

Spencer held the lantern as high as he could. His eyes stared up at the boards four feet above his head.

He turned and looked back at the circle of candlelight by the red couch. It seemed so far away.

For a moment his eyes lost focus as if he was looking through the dirty window or a sheet of plastic. He imagined a woman on the crimson chesterfield, stretched out – facing him. Her flowing white dress cascaded over her legs and draped the side of the cushion. Her hand waved through the air. She had black hair which fell on her shoulders. Her face seemed too white, almost like a mask.

"Spencer."

The lantern fumbled in his hands. He looked at his sister. He turned back to the couch and saw the candlelight flicker on the empty cushion.

"What the fuck are you staring at? You're practically drooling."

"I – I don't know. My imagination I guess. I thought I heard footsteps." He looked back up at the floor above him. What did he expect to have happen? Dirt to fall from between the boards? "Must have been echoes or something."

Chrys followed his eyes to the floor above them. She was seeing things and he was hearing things, great. It must have all been in their heads. Something created from what everyone else told them went on in the barn.

"Come see what I found."

Spencer had to stretch his legs over some boxes and an old lawnmower. He didn't really want to go back to the couch any more. His skin was tingling like every nerve was pulled tight. "What did you find?"

"A car." Chrys pulled the fabric tarp up onto the long lump in front of her. At first they saw the bubble fender over a thin tire. The old car had clean straight lines. It was long in the front with a small cab. The paint was a dull black and the windows of the cab were dirty.

"This is awesome." Spencer switched the lantern to his other hand and ran his left along the body of the car. "Probably early thirties."

"Yeah, it's like an Al Capone car. Are those bullet holes?"

Spencer's fingers touched the only default in the body. Four holes in the door pushed inward scraping away paint and going right through. "I think so. This is so weird. I'm going to make some money on this though."

"How long do you think this car's been here?"

"I don't know. Why is it here?" Spencer looked around. They were close to the old tractor and behind that was a set of double doors held closed with a thick chain and locks. Beside the door was a makeshift ladder made with boards nailed to the wall. Above it was the dark hole leading to the second floor. He hoped his sister didn't want to go up there. That's where the footsteps came from.

Chrys pointed her flashlight at the black square in the ceiling, the light barely reaching it. "Do you think we should go up there?"

Hell no. Spencer said, "We haven't even checked everything down here. Maybe we should look in some of the boxes." He put his hand on the car door handle. What were the chances it would open? It did.

"Spencer."

They both turned to the couch. The moment their eyes fell on it all of the candles snuffed out dropping a blanket of black on the area. How much time had passed since they started to explore? The sun was gone. There was no light coming through the cracks in the walls or the window by the work table.

There was a noise. Both of their eyes went up. Spencer held the lantern up high. Chrys pointed her pen light at the boards right above their heads. There was another noise. And another. She pointed her light back at the opening in the floor.

"What is that?"

"Footsteps. Something's up there." If it was the other boys Spencer was going to kill them. "Cam," he called out. His voice seemed to quake. "Jimmy?" The noises stopped.

A scream seemed to build inside their own bodies before their ears heard it. A howling scream that made their bones ache. Both turned. Spencer saw it far across the barn in the darkness. What was it? It was white, a white that glowed, and trailed off to the sides and back like tentacles floating behind. The scream stopped. There seemed to be eyes staring back at them. It was a woman. It was a woman from the couch, only she was a spectre – a banshee.

Chrys put her light on it. The image hung in the air just outside the power of the small flashlight. Both of them held their breath.

It opened its mouth. A wailing built inside and shot out in a fierce scream. The sound made the walls shake. Their skin burned. It was coming at them. The white entity soared closer and closer. Its eyes were blacker than the night around it. Fear ran through the two siblings. Fear that would paralyze most.

"In the car." Spencer grabbed his sister's arm.

She couldn't move. "What? What is that?"

"Get in the car."

"Why?" She couldn't move.

"I don't know. Get in." Spencer shoved her into action.

She jumped onto the seat and crawled across the small cab. He jumped in after her squeezing his legs beneath the large steering wheel. He slammed the door hard. The tarp fell back down blocking the windows. The screaming circled the automobile. The car began to shake. Chrys let out a series of curses. Spencer kept his hand on the door handle. The car thumped side to side. They were sure the tires were lifting off the floor then dropping down. It was going to flip.

The car stopped shaking. The lantern had fallen on the girls lap. Her flashlight was on the floor of the car. The noise had stopped instantly. Their ears still seemed to ring with the sound. They both held their breath waiting for something to happen. Spencer expected the tarp to suddenly fly off the car and the face, or whatever it was, to be right there on the other side of the window his face was next to. He suddenly remembered to breathe again.

"Spencer?" Chrys's voice trembled. She had one hand on the other door and another on the dashboard. "Did that happen?"

"I-" He couldn't believe it himself. It had been a woman, the woman that he saw on the couch. How could a woman do that? The two boys couldn't have done that.

"What are we going to do?" She turned her head around constantly to be looking at every window. The whole inside was lit up with the lantern. She didn't want to think about what might be on the other side of that tarp. She put a hand to her chest. "My heart's racing."

"Let's just sit here for a while."

"What do you think was upstairs?"

Whatever it was could be down already and outside the car. "I don't know."

"Well what should we do?"

"I don't know, Chrys. If you want to go out there, you go out there. I don't know what any of this is? I don't know what to do." He wanted to throw in, and this is all your damn fault, but kept it to himself.

"There's no door locks." Chrys handed over the lantern and reached down to get her penlight. She was the one that liked horror movies. It was different when it was real life. There was a back seat to the car, but it was small. This wasn't like a modern car with comfortable seats and all the bells and whistles. And door locks.

Spencer fondled the door. She was right. Would a lock do any good against whatever was outside?

"There's a book on the floor." Chrys pulled the book out from halfway under the seat. It too had a bullet hole cutting through the edge and the leather cover was stained with something brown. "You think this is blood?"

Spencer let out a breath. "I don't know."

She opened the cover and flipped in a couple of pages. It was a journal. There were dates in there from 1935. The penmanship was clean. The ink had faded over time, but it must have been sealed well inside the car. After a few minutes of reading she asked her brother if she could read something.

"Helen has almost completed her research into what we are calling the Crimson Chesterfield. It has been passed on from household to household, owner to new owner with the same mysterious stories following it each time. Reports are that the color never fades. Stains disappear. Most stories are about a woman seen relaxing on the chesterfield."

"Are you serious?"

"Shut up." Chrys had to read a little to find her spot. "Witnesses say they see her on the chesterfield after the sun has set. They say there is a woman screaming and flying through the air. Seven deaths have surrounded this chesterfield." She read a little in silence. "Okay, one guy apparently just got up from a nap on the couch and walked straight into a river and drown. A man and woman killed each other with their bare hands. This is crazy." She flipped a couple of pages and read some more. "The old bike, this says it made someone go insane."

Spencer shook his head. "That's impossible. So the barn is a storage place for things that people killed around or went nuts?"

"Cursed items. That's what it says here. The only thing that seems to keep us safe from the cursed articles is the Phantom."

"Yeah, the Phantom two. This is a Rolls Royce Phantom ii. I knew I recognized it. It was mentioned in the third Indiana Jones movie so I looked it up and had a poster of it."

Chrys flipped through the journal and absently said, "Maybe its fate that we're here then."

Spencer drummed the steering wheel with his thumbs. Sweat ran down his temple. Maybe it was fate. It was fate that his little foster sister wanted to explore the barn instead of sleeping on the couch. Would they have ended up killing each other? Was it going to be fate that they get stuck in the car all night? His ears strained to hear what was happening beyond the tarp. Things like this didn't really happen.

Chrys continued reading the journal. She didn't notice as time went by or the heat rising inside the car. She read about all of the items that had been found and the evil things that circled around them.

~ * ~

"Chrys, wake up."

Chrys opened her eyes. The journal she had read had fallen on the floor again and she must have kicked it half under the seat. The lantern was still on lighting the whole car cab. Her brother's face was covered in sweat.

"It's morning." Spencer pointed at his watch. It was eight-thirty in the morning. They had slept half the night. "I haven't heard anything."

Chrys ran a hand across her face wiping away her own perspiration. "You think it's safe?"

Spencer slowly pushed the door open. It was still dark beyond the tarp. The smell of dust touched their noses. He pushed the tarp up as high as he could with one hand and held the lantern out in front of him. His foot scraped on the floor. He didn't know what to expect. Was the ghostly woman going to be waiting for him? Was there a finger eating rodeo clown? What had been upstairs?

Nothing. Some sun rays streamed in through the cracks in the walls and a distorted light came through the dirty window. Everything was still.

Chrys climbed from the car behind him. She flashed her light at the ladder and the hole to the second floor.

"Let's go." Spencer grabbed his sister's hand. They quickly walked back toward the couch. His eyes never left what he could see of it in the grey light. They climbed over and around all of the boxes and items. He left his sleeping bag and the cooler. His hand threw the board away from the door and gave it a hard shove.

Clean fresh air filled their lungs. The sunlight blinded them for a moment.

"What the hell did you two do?"

Spencer blinked quickly. Cam and Jimmy sat on the grass next to their bikes. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What was that scream last night?"

"And the bright light? We were supposed to scare you two."

"You two were upstairs." Chrys called them a colorful name.

Spencer turned the lantern off and dropped it into the grass. "What did you guys see?"

"We climbed in through an open window in the loft and walked across it listening to you guys talking downstairs. When we got close to the trap door there was that loud scream and light that you did. We booked it."

Spencer didn't know what to tell him. He didn't know what they had seen. He couldn't explain it. The journal told of cursed items, but that was ridiculous. Still, it was his job to get rid of everything in the barn so that his dad could sell the property. What if everything in there was cursed by some evil power? He couldn't let those things go out into the world and start all over.

"Breakfast?" Chrys said with a smile on her pouty lips.

I'm currently a writer of mystery thrillers, but through my twenty-nine or so years of freelance writing I have tried a little of everything. I'm currently working on my first suspense thriller with the characters Chrys and Spencer Alcrest. The opportunity came to join in this YA Horror anthology, so I jumped at the chance to write about these two ten years earlier. I put them together with the thought I had many years ago of a red satin couch found in an old barn and the childhood imagination that maybe inanimate objects had more to them than what met the eye.

If you want to look up my novel, RED ISLAND - and adult suspense thriller or the second novel in that series RED SERGE due out before the end of 2013 please find me on Facebook or check out my blog lorneoliver.blogspot.ca

Dream Revenge

By: Kate Marie Robbins

©2013 by Kate Marie Robbins

Isis picks up her latte off the counter and walks towards her usual spot in the back corner of the coffee shop to people watch. This is her favorite thing in the world to do, other than spend time with the love of her life, Ty. She is just killing time until he gets off from work. She glances at her watch; only a few more hours to go.

She decides that after her latte, she will pop over to her favorite used book store. She downs the last few sips of her cup and stands up. Looking across the coffee shop, her eyes fall upon something she never thought she would see and drops her cup. It hits the floor with a soft thump. Ty is just walking in the door, with a gorgeous blonde girl.

"This isn't happening," she mutters to herself, hoping that it isn't what it looks like. Slowly, Isis sits back down and watches the scene unfold in front of her.

Ty has his arm around the girl. They're whispering to each other. Isis is too far away to make out what they are saying, but she doesn't dare move any closer. The last thing she wants is to be spotted. Once Ty and the girl order their coffee, they move to the counter to wait for their drinks. But they still aren't close enough for Isis to hear anything. Ty leans close to the girl and plants a kiss on her lips. At the sight of that, Isis leaps up from her table and sprints across the coffee shop and out the door.

"Oh, hi honey. I wasn't expecting you home so soon," her mom says when she walks into the house.

Isis doesn't say anything. She isn't even able to process the words her mom is speaking. She just stares blankly into space.

"What's wrong Isis? I know something is wrong. You can't fool me. It's written all over your face." She walks towards her daughter.

"It's nothing mom. I'm fine." Isis quickly flees the room, to avoid any more questions. Once safely inside her bedroom, she throws herself on the bed and cries. How could he do this to me? Everything was perfect. I just don't understand. I'll kill him! I swear, I'll kill them both.

She doesn't truly mean those words, not at first anyway.

Her cell phone is buzzing. For how long, she doesn't know. Picking it up, she glances at the screen. Five missed calls and ten text messages.

"Let me guess, they're all from Ty!" she hisses at her phone. Delete. Delete. Delete.

"You can't let him get away with this," a voice inside her head whispers. "He hurt you! He lied to you! He cheated on you! Make him pay. You must make him pay."

Isis sits up and looks around the room. Where is that voice coming from? There is no one there. It makes no sense at all.

"Why aren't you listening to me?" the voice speaks again. "You're just sitting there. Do something about it. Pick up your phone and text him. Tell him you're sorry. That you weren't feeling well."

Isis reaches over to the nightstand and picks up her phone and starts typing: 'I wasn't feeling well, I guess I must have fallen asleep.'

'It's okay baby. I was getting worried about you. Do you want me to come over? We can watch movies and cuddle.'

'No, it's okay. I think I'm just going to take a shower and get some more sleep. I'll come over in the morning.'

'Kay, night baby. I love you.'

But Isis doesn't shower and she doesn't sleep. She lies there on her bed talking to the voice; planning and plotting.

In the wee hours of the morning, she finally sleeps. Knowing that she needs to be well rested if she is to execute this plan with precision.

The walk to Ty's apartment is the longest of her life. Isis has her messenger bag slung over her shoulder, ready for what lies ahead. She lets herself in with the key he had given her.

Ty is still asleep when she arrives. Good. This makes everything so much easier.

She takes the rope from her bag and securely ties Ty to the bed by his hands and feet. Silently, she grabs his phone from the charger and walks out into the kitchen. Full of determination, she scrolls through his call list and text messages, trying to find the girl from yesterday.

It takes some searching, but eventually Isis finds who she is looking for. Ruby. Well, how fitting. Slutty, little home wrecker.

She sends Ruby a text from Ty's phone: 'I can't sleep. Wanna come over for a while?'

'Be there in 20.'

Isis walks into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee, hoping that the scent of it will rouse Ty. She can't wait to see the look on his face when he wakes up. She doesn't have to wait too long for that to happen.

"What the hell!" comes Ty's scream from the next room.

Isis, coffee mug in hand, saunters into Ty's bedroom and grins at him.

"Isis, this isn't funny. What's going on? Why am I tied to the bed?" Ty is angry.

"This way you can't run, obviously. It'll only be a few more minutes, then the real fun will begin. She does have a key, doesn't shy?" Isis asks coyly.

"Does who have a key? You're not making any sense!"

"Why, Ruby, of course. Yes, I know all about her Ty," Isis spits at him. "Did you really think that I wouldn't find out?" She shakes her head at him. There is a knock at the door. "Guess she wasn't important enough for you to give her a key, eh? I best not keep her waiting." Isis spins on her heels and walks to the door.

The look on Ruby's face is priceless when she sees Isis standing there. "Who are you?" Ruby asks, more annoyed than anything.

Isis lets out a slight cackle. "Oh, so he failed to mention me? Please do come in. We have so much to talk about." Extending her hand, she adds, "I'm Isis, by the way. I am Ty's girlfriend."

Ruby's jaw drops. "What the hell is going on? Where is Ty?" she asks, stepping inside the apartment.

Isis slams the door behind her. "He's in the bedroom," she states flatly. "Go in there and talk to him." Isis follows her into the room shortly after, grabbing something from her bag on the way.

Ruby shrieks when she sees Ty tied up to the bed. "What have you done to him?"

"Nothing... Yet. Shut your mouth, or I will be forced to shut you up," Isis threatens. "On the bed, NOW!"

Ruby stands frozen in place, her eyes locked on the sight of Ty so helpless, afraid of what is going to happen next. She quivers, but makes no effort to move.

Isis slips the knife out of her back pocket and slowly, painstakingly pulls it into view. This should get her moving! She grins menacingly as she waves the blade in the air.

Ruby shrieks again and backs slowly away from Isis, and towards the bed. She isn't watching where she is going, so she stumbles into the bed and falls back. That is when Isis makes her move. She advances on her quickly, shoving her back against the headboard. Her head hits it with a thud, but not nearly hard enough to knock her out. Isis wants her awake for what is to come.

"I'm going to set the knife down now, but if you try to move or run, I will be forced to use it. Do you understand?"

Ruby nods at her, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't move, she just slumps back, giving up.

Smart girl. Very smart girl. Isis secures her to the bed in the same fashion as Ty. She towers over both of them, admiring her handy work. Ruby has her eyes shut, refusing to let Isis see the fear in her eyes. Ty, on the other hand, is glaring at her with daggers in his eyes.

"It is story time," Isis declares.

Neither of them say anything.

"I really must hear about how the two of you met," Isis gushes, almost bordering on being too enthusiastic. But she doesn't care. She's out for blood and wants more fuel for the fires.

Still, neither of them say anything. It is making Isis quite angry.

"Oh, come on now. It looks like we need a bit of motivation." Isis walks towards where she had set the knife down. "We really don't need this, do we?" Isis declares as her hand hovers above the blade, mere inches above it.

"I'll talk, I'll talk, please just promise you won't hurt me," Ruby finally sobs.

"Hey, what about me? Don't you mean don't hurt us?" Ty growls.

"I meant what I said. This is your fault. You couldn't keep it in your pants," Ruby chokes out.

Isis is loving this, seeing them fighting. Dividing them hadn't been her intention, but she will gladly accept it. "Enough arguing! Now, Ruby, dear, let's hear that story you promised me." Truth was, she really doesn't care how they met. She just wants to make both Ruby and Ty extremely uncomfortable. And it is working. She can see it on their faces. She is loving every minute of it.

Ruby sobs out the entire story. And Isis feigns interest in what she is saying. As Ruby has finished her pathetic story, Isis yawns. "Okay, I'm bored of this."

"Does that mean you're going to let us go?" Ruby asks, faint hope filling her voice.

Isis laughs hysterically. "I will do no such thing. I never made you any promises of that nature." A grin forms on her face, knowing what the future will hold for her two captives.

Isis hovers about the knife yet again, this time she picks it up, after a bit of hesitation. Not because she is hesitant about using it, but because she wants to instill more fear. It does just that.

Ruby shrieks again. "What are you doing? What are you doing with that knife?"

"Exactly what you deserve... What you both deserve." Isis is filled with such satisfaction.

The voice that had been silent up until now speaks up again. "You know what to do with that knife," it urges her.

Isis nods, and says, "I know exactly what to do." Isis then walks towards Ruby's side of the bed, sitting down right next to her gingerly, a grin still upon her face. "I'll try not to hurt you too much," she assures Ruby, brushing her fingers across her cheek. "You have such pretty skin. It's such a shame that we will have to mess up your porcelain canvas."

Ruby stares at her, completely horrified.

Isis, taking the knife in her other hand, brings it up to where Ruby's hands are tied. As if someone else has taken over her body, she starts to slice into Ruby's fingers, flaying each finger open, one at a time. Her screams are horrific, but Isis pays no mind to them. Her focus is on the look on Ty's face as he watches the blood dripping down the headboard.

Ty, unable to move, is beyond words. He just lays there, terror struck. That just makes Isis smile even more.

The blood loss becomes too much for Ruby, and eventually she passes out. Isis already knew in her heart that eventually this would happen. There is nothing she can do about it.

Isis wants so badly to end Ruby's life right now, but the voice tells her that she must wait. She has to obey.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you my dear Ty. It will soon be your turn," Isis smirks as she slides off the bed. Once on her feet, she walks slowly around the bed to where Ty lays and plops down next to him.

Ty's eyes meet Isis's. "I don't care what you do to me. Please, just let Ruby go. None of this is her fault. Please, if you let her go now, she can get help. She could survive," Ty begs. His gaze drops, because he knows that Isis has no intentions of letting her go. She has no intentions of letting either of them go. The words are useless, but still he keeps talking, keeps hoping that Isis will come to her senses.

Isis, on the other hand, is getting sick of hearing him babble. Hopping off the bed, she goes to Ty's dresser and starts to rummage through the drawers until she finds what she is looking for. Back on the bed, she securely ties the bandana around his mouth, using it as a gag. She grins. "That should keep you quiet enough. Now back to the task at hand."

Ty tries to speak, but it comes out as a soft, incoherent mumble.

"Oh, you want to know what my next task is, huh?" Isis says with a laugh. "Well, I'd be more than happy to show you. They say these knives can cut through bone. Shall we find out?"

If Ty could have screamed, he would have.

"Hmm... Now where should we start? Your hands or your feet?" Isis looks Ty in the eyes. "You tell me Ty, which would you rather lose? Your hands or your feet?" Holding the knife over his hands, she waits for a response.

Ty shakes his head feverishly.

"Okay then. So not the hands. Your feet then?" Isis concludes.

Ty shakes his head again.

"That just won't do Ty. It has to be one of those. Fine, if you won't choose, I'll choose for you." Isis ponders for a moment about which she thinks would cause more pain and damage. "Your feet, they simply must go," she decides aloud.

Another attempt at a scream from Ty sets Isis into a fit of laughter. Once she composes herself enough to concentrate, she walks down to the foot of the bed and leans over. "Thank goodness you sleep in your boxer shorts. This makes things so much easier for me to start." She waits for Ty to scream again, waits for Ty to do anything in protest. He doesn't. All he does is close his eyes tightly and tenses up his body, bracing himself for the inevitable.

Isis does not show her dissatisfaction with Ty's reaction. There is no way she is going to show mercy just because he's not giving the response she wants. That would just be ludicrous.

"You know what the sad thing is Ty? I'm more concerned about getting my clothes all bloody." She only says it to overcompensate. It works though. Ty opens his eyes and glares at her. Isis laughs again, then grazes the knife blade against Ty's ankle. Then she presses a bit deeper, until blood is trickling down onto the sheets.

Isis's eyes snap open and she looks around the room. "I'm still in my bedroom?" she says aloud, perplexed. "How can that even be?" It takes her a while to recover from the revelation. It wasn't real. None of it was real. Well, almost.

Isis reaches for her phone on the nightstand. She looks at her phone and sees several missed calls and unread text messages. Without even looking at them, she sends one to Ty: 'I'm coming over. We need to talk.'

She sets off, messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She knows just what she is going to do.

From the makings of her fabulous tennis hits, from the inspiration of her waggish pets, from the riotous air of Minnesota, comes Kate Marie Robbins...

She lives in a VERY small town in southeastern Minnesota with her family and her three pets. She is currently working in a nursing home but has for long dreamed of being a published author- which since you are reading this, has come true. She likes to read, sing, paint and is very proud of her music & book collections. She also wants to travel the world. When she travels the world of Indigo, she would like to learn sword fighting from Bradan, or be a tailor.

Kate once waited to get into a concert for ten hours, in a snow storm. She dyes her hair a different color every few months, and once went to Walmart wearing a black cape and cat ears. She never got into trouble at school, and has not yet achieved her ambition of drinking her way through all twelve pubs pictured on her Irish calendar.

Home Alone

By: Majanka Verstraete

©2013 by Majanka Verstraete

Penny suppressed a yawn. A bright, round moon cast a silvery light on her surroundings, piercing through a thick layer of fog, making everything look otherworldly. She dug her fingers into her skin to stay awake, a trick she'd learned from her mom. The car hobbled onward, much too slow for Penny's liking.

In the front seat, Chelsea was chatting about God knows what, her voice sulky and low like always when she got tired. Matt, the designated driver, laughed out loud, every action exaggerated, every movement too sudden or too quick. Matt had like Chelsea since forever, but he'd never stood a chance. Chels had practically ditched the two of them to go talk to football captain Dave O'Connell, and she'd barely said three words to Matt, but that didn't mean he didn't keep on trying.

The car turned into Penny's street, and the fog drifted apart, revealing Penny's home ahead. The lights were off, and the house was cloaked in darkness.

Three years ago, back when Penny's mom had somehow snagged up a new boyfriend and changed her lifestyle from responsible adult to partying wannabe-teenager, Penny had found it scary to come back to an empty house. But after years of being on her own till well after midnight, she'd gotten used to it. It didn't bother her now that it was one o'clock at night and the odds were high she'd be on her own, since Mom had gone out earlier with Brad, the new boyfriend.

Turning on to her front porch, Matt switched to neutral, parked the car and turned the key. The car made one last sputtering sound and died.

"Here we are," Matt said, diverting his attention to Penny for the first time since they'd left the party.

"Thanks for the ride," Penny said. She offered him a small smile and started fumbling with the door handle.

"No problem", Matt said. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you, Pen," Chelsea said, distracted.

Penny took a deep breath and got out of the car. She was glad to get away from Chelsea's perfume, and could barely hide her annoyance. What good is a best friend if she ditches you whole night?

Tonight had been a disaster, Penny decided while walking to the front door. The headlights of Matt's car nearly blinded her, and she dropped her keys twice while trying to open the door. Not only had Chelsea ditched her, flirting with obnoxious Dave, but Matt had straight out ignored any attempts of small talk Penny had made.

Penny sighed and pushed against the door with all her strength. In spring, when the weather was as dry and hot as today, the front door tended to get stuck.

Maybe she just wasn't meant to be with someone. Wouldn't be so bad – if her mom's relationship with 'the boyfriend' was any example, then all relationships pretty much existed of heartbreak, crying, eating ice cream and then making up whenever he came over to apologize, even if said apology was half-hearted.

A small beam of light pierced through the opened door into the living room. Penny reached for the light switch, and relaxed when the bright lights turned on. No burglar in sight.

Penny waved through the opened door, and watched as Matt's car pulled off the driveway. She couldn't see if anyone waved back, thanks to the massive head lights. When the car turned around the corner, she closed the door and locked it.

There was no sign of her mom's presence downstairs, which could mean two things. Either her Mom wasn't home yet, or she hadn't been wasted this time around. Sometimes, when she'd drunk too much, she'd crash on the couch, or start disrobing on the way to her room, leaving her clothes all over the stairs and floor.

Penny made her way through the forever-messy kitchen, where a pile of dishes the size of Mount Everest balanced dangerously on the side of the counter. She made a mental memo to clean the dishes first thing in the morning.

She went into the bathroom, throwing her shirt on the bath tub. She glanced at her own face through the mirror. Her mascara had smeared a little, and she had dark bags circling her eyes. With a grunt, she took out a tooth brush and began brushing her teeth.

A floorboard creaked over her head. Penny raised her eyebrows. What the heck?

When no other sound followed, she shrugged it off. The house was old and probably just settling down for the night. Especially with these high temperatures, it wasn't uncommon for the house to make strange noises.

Penny dressed into her pajamas, yawned, and walked out of the bathroom. Another wooden floorboard creaked upstairs.

For a minute, all Penny's age-old fears about burglars, kidnappers and rapists resurfaced. But then the voice of reason calmed her down. Maybe it was her mom, who'd already come home. The sound seemed to come from mom's bedroom. Plus, not one self-respecting burglar would hope to find something of value in their tiny, run-down, dirty house.

Penny checked her cellphone. No new messages. Chelsea could've at least texted her that she got home safe and sound.

They should've been there by now. Or well, not if they'd stopped the car to make out somewhere.

The stairs looked particularly inviting tonight, and Penny longed to lie down and catch some sleep. She put a step on the bottom stairs, and froze at the spot when she heard another floorboard squeak upstairs, this time right above her head.

Penny sneaked up the stairs, staying as quiet as possible. She glanced into the darkened first floor hallway, past the crumbling wallpaper dangling off the walls. The room to her mom's bedroom was closed.

Penny breathed out a sigh of relief. That door was always open, unless her mom was home. Seconds later, her mom's familiar snoring greeted her from the bedroom.

Great job overreacting, crybaby.

Penny walked into her own bedroom, a tiny, cramped space where she could barely fit her bed, a closet and a desk in. Posters decorated the walls, Penny's only protection from the old, salmon-colored wallpaper that drove her crazy whenever she started at it for too long. She closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it.

Penny shot a quick glance through the window before she pulled the curtains close. The street was deserted, not a living soul in sight.

She crawled into bed, kicking off the covers. Before she'd very well closed her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

***

A beeping sound pulled Penny from a pleasant dream she only vaguely remembered. Sitting up in bed, she brushed the sleep out of her eyes, wondering where the sound came from. Then she noticed her cell phone's blue light. A new text message.

She glanced at the digital clock on the night stand. One thirty. She'd only been asleep for a good fifteen minutes, tops. Maybe it was Chelsea, texting to tell her she got home safe and sound.

Penny contemplated reading the message or not. Sleep tugged at her, but in the end, curiosity won. She grabbed the phone and browsed to her inbox.

One new message from Mom.

Penny clicked on the message, raising her eyebrows. How could she have gotten a text from Mom, if the latter was sleeping in the room next to hers?

Hey sweetie! Will be home later. Love, Mom. Xx

Penny's breath got stuck in her throat.

Stay calm, Penn. It wouldn't be the first time someone sent her a message, and the text arrived hours later.

She listened intently for the sound of her mom snoring. A deep growl, a higher-pitched sound, exactly the way her mom snored. She'd heard the sound a thousand times, and she couldn't count the sleepless nights she'd lain in her bed listening to the calming sound of her mom's snoring.

Was something different about it today? Penny didn't think so.

On top of that, what kind of burglar would pretend to be a person snoring?

You're overreacting, Penn. Get a hold of yourself.

She clicked the 'call' button on her cell phone, dialing her mother's number. Her mom had an obnoxiously loud ring tone that pierced through the entire house, so if she was home, Penny would definitely hear the phone ringing.

The phone started going over, but the ring tone was missing. Nothing came from her mother's bedroom except the incessant sound of her snoring.

Penny bit her lip to keep it from trembling. What if whoever was in her mom's bedroom wasn't her mom?

Suddenly, the snoring stopped. Penny's heart skipped a few beats. She jumped out of bed, pushing herself against the wall furthest away from the door. The door. Why hadn't she freaking locked the door?

The silence was a lot more threatening than the sound seconds before. It was the kind of silence that was thick and palpable, ominous, waiting for something to happen.

I have to lock that freaking door.

But Penny's feet wouldn't move, like she was glued to the spot. A door crept open at the end of the hallway. Bile rose up in Penny's throat.

Three steps toward her. She hoped against all odds that the intruder would go back down the stairs, thinking maybe she was asleep, and leave her alone. Another step. And another. Toward her room, past the stairs.

Finally, Penny could move again. She raced forward, toward the door, and fumbled with the lock. Her trembling hands barely managed to turn the key. Once the door was locked, she put a few steps back, taking deep, ragged breaths.

The door knob turned, left to right. Penny started crying, more from panic than anything else. The knob turned again, and someone pushed hard against the door.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God," Penny said, backing up against the wall, desperately looking for a way out. She rushed toward the window and began pulling it with all her strength, trying to pry the window open.

The window finally budged, and flew open, sending Penny flying backward on to her bed. Penny jumped up again, ran to the window and looked out. It was a long way down, but she'd probably only have two broken legs.

"Honey?" a familiar voice came from down the hallway. "What's going on? Open up."

Mom?

Penny released a long, slow breath. "Mom?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes?" her Mom replied from the hallway. "Penn, I told you I don't like it when you lock the door. What if there's a fire or something?"

The voice sounded exactly like Penny's mom's, and she nagged about potential life threatening situations the same way Penny's mom always did, but something nagged at the back of Penny's mind.

"Where is your cell phone?" Penny asked.

"That thing died about an hour ago. Low battery," Mom explained. "Can you open up?"

"Why did you come to my room just now?"

A deep sigh resonated from the other side of the door. "I woke up just now, and wanted to check if you're all right. But obviously you're not. Care to tell me what's going on?"

"You sent me a text message you'd be home later," Penny said. She couldn't keep the accusation out of her tone.

"I sent that text hours ago," Mom explained. "Honey, I'm getting worried." The door knob twitched again.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," Penny said while she walked toward the door. She turned the key and opened up the door a little.

Her mom's silhouette appeared in the hallway. Most of her face was blocked by the darkness, and Penny wondered why she hadn't put the lights on. Mom hated walking in the dark. Then mom stepped forward, into the light, revealing familiar features Penny had never been as relieved to see as today.

But the look in mom's eyes was harsh and cold, a look she only had when she was royally angry at Penny.

"Are you mad at me?" Penny asked, worried.

"No, of course not," Mom said. "Just a little tired."

At least she didn't sound drunk.

Penny put a step back to let Mom into her room. "I was afraid you were an intruder," she explained.

"Me?" Mom laughed, a dry, hoarse sound. She put a step closer to Penny. Her lips curled into a smile.

Penny smiled back hesitantly, still not entirely recovered from her fear.

Then Mom's smile grew larger, until the corners of her mouth reached halfway to her ears.

Penny's eyes went wide and she stepped back, overcome by horror and fear.

Mom's mouth became impossibly big, running all the way to her ears. "Well, I'm definitely not Mom," the imposter said. She laughed, again that dry, strange sound, revealing gigantic, razor-sharp teeth.

Penny screamed. She launched at the window, but the monster was too fast. It grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

A giant, blood red tongue slipped from the monster's mouth. By now, its face was so large and grotesque it didn't resemble Penny's mom in the slightest anymore. The monster had black slits for eyes, no nose, and the majority of its face was dominated by the massive mouth.

The monster's tongue licked Penny's cheek.

The last thing Penny saw was a giant, black hole filled with teeth as sharp as knives. Then the monster swallowed her whole.
***

Loud rock music blasted through the small bedroom. The monster finished picking a bone from her teeth before she picked up.

"Hello?" she asked, mimicking Penny's voice.

"Why did you call me?" a drunken voice asked from the other end of the phone.

"No reason. Accident call," the monster said. "When will you be home?"

"I'm leaving now," the voice promised. "But don't stay up. It's a half hour drive."

"All right. See you later, Mom."

The monster hung up and put the phone back on the bed. She put her feet on to the bed and crossed her arms behind her back. Look like she had thirty minutes of time to kill.

M ajanka Verstraete begged her Mom to teach her how to read while she was still in kindergarten. By the time she finished fifth grade, she had read through the entire children's section of her hometown library.

She wrote her first story when she was seven years old, and hasn't stopped writing since. With an imagination that never sleeps, and hundreds of possible book characters screaming for her attention, writing is more than a passion for her.

She writes about all things supernatural for children of all ages. She's tried to write contemporary novels before, but something paranormal always manages to crawl in.

Majanka is currently studying for her Master of Laws degree, and hopes one day to be able to combine her passions for law and writing. When she's not writing, reading or studying, she likes watching "The Vampire Diaries" and "Game of Thrones," spending time with her friends, or playing "World of Warcraft."

Her debut picture book, "Valentina and the Haunted Mansion" released in May 2013, and was published by Evolved Publishing. She is now working on her second picture book, "Valentina and the Whackadoodle Witch", which will be published in December 2013.

She has a lower grade chapter book, "The Doll Maker" coming out in September 2013. This is the first book in the Weirdville series, a series of scary books for kids. The second and third book will be released in December 2013, along with an audio book for "The Doll Maker".

Her debut young adult novel, "Fractured", the first book in the Mirrorland series, will release in September 2013 by InkSpell Publishing. You can now pre-order your copy.

Website: http://majankaverstraete.com

Goodreads:  www.goodreads.com/author/show/4813098.Majanka_Verstraete

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Majanka-Verstraete/398570476832115

Twitter: @iheartreads

Preorder your copy of Fractured here:  http://www.inkspellpublishing.com/1/post/2013/07/fractured-is-available-for-preorder.html

The Jailer

By: Cindy Bartolotta

©2013 by Cindy Bartolotta

Santo Gaetanno, a small village nestled in the hills of Sicily, had been in existence since the early tenth century. As the outside world grew and technology advanced, it all seemed to bypass Santo Gaetanno.

Like most of the other local towns, Santo Gaetanno had a jail. What made theirs unique was the village's central location. For centuries, all executions for the district, though there weren't many, were performed on the gallows in the prison basement.

In the mid-1800's Pasquale Barrone was the jailer in Santo Gaetanno, a position he inherited from his father, who inherited it from his father. In fact, all the jailers in Santo Gaetanno had been men from the Barrone family.

The jailer though, was not the executioner. Since all executions were performed at midnight, the executioner's identity was never known.

The jailer's duties were quite simple. If there were no prisoners, he had nothing to do. If there were prisoners, he was required to check on them hourly, see they were fed twice a day, and be within the building should the prisoner have a visitor.

If an execution was ordered, the jailer had been known to fill in for the local priest to comfort the prisoner in his last moments. But with the execution itself, the jailer had no part. When Pasquale retired, his oldest son, Giuseppe, inherited the position. Unlike most of the previous jailers, Giuseppe was not married, so didn't mind living in the free apartment above the jail. The apartment, a perk of the job, was spacious by village standards, but was seldom used as wives found living above the jail quite unacceptable.

Giuseppe took his job seriously, including keeping all the secrets at the jail. Some were handed down from his father and his father's father, some were from cases, and some were confessions. The biggest secret dealt with the executions.

Once Giuseppe settled in as jailer, Pasquale planned to take the rest of his family and move north to a farm near the coast so his wife, Angelina, could be closer to her ailing father. While Angelina packed, Pasquale spent the week in Santo Gaetanno at the jail with his son.

There were no prisoners to deal with, so it was a nice visit.

During Pasquale's last day there, the men sat on the balcony enjoying their last dinner together. Giuseppe poured two glasses of homemade red wine while his father cut two thick slices of crusty bread. Giuseppe set a plate with cheese, figs and sausage on the table next to a clay jar of cured, locally grown olives. After saying grace, the men started to eat.

Conversation eventually got to the village executions.

Pasquale spoke first. "Does the man still come at night?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Have you ever--?"

Giuseppe interrupted, finishing the question. "Have I ever seen him?" Giuseppe shook his head. "No, Papa. You always told me never to look at the man who comes after an execution."

Pasquale nodded. "Good."

"Is Mamma happy to be moving?"

"Yes, but she will miss her Giuseppe." He reached across the rustic wooden table tussling his son's dark, curly hair.

"Aw, Papa."

"Yes," the old man continued. "I will miss my Giuseppe, too."

"I can always visit you."

"You remember you have responsibilities here." He shook his finger at his son.

"Yes, Papa."

The two ate in silence for a few minutes. "I did look once," Pasquale said quietly after some time had passed.

Giuseppe's eyes got big. "Pardon, Papa? Did you say you looked once?"

The old man nodded.

"But Papa, you told me never to look."

He shrugged. "I know. But I had to look. Just once, you understand."

"And nothing happened?"

"Nothing happened, but I will tell you, I was scared."

Giuseppe looked at his father, surprised that something had scared the big man. Then he looked down and spoke softly, ashamed.

"Papa--? I too have looked out the window. I only did it once—just a fast peek, but never again. I was...I was scared too."

"Tell me what you saw."

"Someone in a hooded robe."

Pasquale nodded and started to laugh. "I guess we are really so much alike."

"What did you see when you looked, Papa?"

"The same thing. Just someone in a hooded robe."

"Who is it, Papa?"

"It is supposed to be death coming for the executed prisoners. You are not supposed to look at him because if he sees you before he sees the prisoner, he will take your soul instead. Never look at him again."

"I won't, Papa."

"Good. We shall never speak of it again. Let this be our secret. Now tell me Giuseppe, what's this I hear about you and Maria Vecchio?"

Several years later, Giuseppe received word that his father had taken ill. His parents still lived on the farm in the north. He approached the town's mayor about taking a two-month leave of absence to visit his family. The mayor readily agreed, and told Giuseppe he would contact one of the other villages to have their jailer cover for him while he was away.

"If it is okay, Signori Andolini, let me contact my friend, Angelo. He's the jailer over in Progianno. Perhaps he can fill in for me."

The mayor agreed.

Giuseppe left that afternoon to visit his friend, arriving there just in time for the evening meal. Angelo invited him to dine with them.

After eating, the men sat outside in the cool evening breeze.

"So tell me, my good friend. What brings you to my house tonight?"

"I am in need of a favor."

Angelo poured two glasses of wine. "Tell me what you need."

Giuseppe explained about his father's illness and how he needed someone to fill in for him."

"Sure that won't be a problem. If someone is arrested in the village, they will just have to transport him to the Santo Gaetanno jail."

"Grazzi, Angelo, my old friend. But I have one more thing you need to know. You must swear you will never repeat what I am about to tell you."

Angelo's eyes narrowed. "What is it Giuseppe?"

"You must swear."

"I swear."

In hushed whispers, Giuseppe told Angelo about the robed figure who knocks at the door every time a prisoner is executed."

Angelo started to laugh—first a chuckle, then so hard he almost choked. "Giuseppe...are you... are you trying to make me laugh to death?"

Giuseppe looked at Angelo as if he were crazy. "What are you saying?"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Angelo answered. "That's an old wives tale, Giuseppe. Surely you don't believe it."

"I do, Angelo. And for your safety, if there are any executions while I am away, I want you to promise me you will not look upon the robed man."

Angelo just looked at his friend.

"You swore you would never repeat what I told you; now promise me you will not look."

To placate Giuseppe, Angelo promised and swore again never to repeat that conversation and he swore he would not look if someone knocked at the door after an execution.

Thus, it was arranged that Giuseppe would leave the next morning and Angelo would arrive in Santo Gaetanno if and when he was needed.

During the time Angelo was the temporary jailer, he spent little time in Santo Gaetanno. There were no executions and Angelo had the only prisoner serve his time in Progianno's jail.

Several weeks before Giuseppe was due to return, Vincenzo Rocco, a resident of Santo Gaetanno, accused his neighbor of stealing grapes from his vineyard and was seen beating him to death. Witnesses came forward, but when the authorities went to the man's house, Vincenzo was not there. They searched and searched and eventually found the man holed up in an underground fruit cellar nearby. He was arrested and taken to the jail. Angelo was summoned.

Word of the arrest reached Giuseppe in the north. Though Pasquale recovered from his illness, he was still weak. Giuseppe told his father about Vincenzo.

"Ah—a hot head, that one. I am sure he is guilty."

"I must get back, Papa. With witnesses, Vincenzo surely will be executed."

"Angelo is there."

"I know, Papa. But I feel something will go wrong."

Pasquale nodded. "Then hurry."

Giuseppe embraced his father and left. It was a two day journey back to Santo Gaetanno.

Vincenzo's trial took less than a day. Despite his constant outbursts proclaiming his innocence, there was no disputing the witnesses and the evidence. He was found guilty and sentenced to hang that very night. Angelo, meanwhile, was looking forward to proving Giuseppe's warning was nothing more than an old wives tale.

At eleven thirty, the mayor, the local priest, two guards and the executioner entered the jail. The priest stayed with the prisoner to hear any last words of confessions while the executioner and the guards went into the cellar to prepare the gallows. The mayor stayed to talk to Angelo.

A few minutes to twelve, the guards were ready. Vincenzo, a shadow of his former boisterous self, was securely shackled and escorted below between the guards. The priest followed the group to the cellar.

At the door, the mayor turned to Angelo. "You don't have to, but you are welcome to witness the execution."

"That's okay, sir. I will wait up here."

The mayor nodded and closed the door behind him.

Pressing his ear against the door, Angelo struggled to make out the mayor's words through the thick wood. He opened the door a couple of inches.

"Vincenzo Rocco, you have been found guilty of the crime of murder and sentenced to death. Do you have anything to say?

He spit on the ground. "No! I killed him and I'm glad I did. He stole my grapes. I suspected for some time he had been doing so and I finally caught him. I'm glad he's dead!"

"May God, have mercy on your soul, my son." The priest intoned.

Angelo could hear the shackle chains hitting against the wooden steps leading to the gallows's platform. Vincenzo's screaming became muffled, and then turned to a whimper.

After a minute, the mayor said, "It is time."

There was a sound of a wooden door swinging and the thud of the body dropping.

Caught up in the moment, Angelo jumped when someone knocked at the outside door. He opened it and looked into the skeletal face of death.

"Dios mio!" the priest exclaimed from below. "Lord protect us!"

When Giuseppe arrived the next day, gossip was rampant. He headed directly to the jail to confront Angelo. It was obvious something happened--something very, very bad.

The mayor intercepted him before he went inside.

"Giuseppe. He is dead. Your friend Angelo is dead."

"How? What happened?"

The mayor shook his head. "We don't know. Vincenzo Rocco was being executed. In his last minutes, he confessed to the crime. At midnight the lever was pulled. He hung there, kicking and screaming, and then he went still. We heard a thud upstairs and suddenly the rope snapped."

"What do you mean snapped?"

"Came apart like it was cut in two."

"But how could that happened? It is a strong rope."

The mayor nodded. "I know, but it did. And then we saw it."

"Saw what?"

"When the rope broke, Vincenzo fell to the ground. He was still shackled; the hood was still over his head and the noose around his neck. He laid there for a minute, not moving. We thought he was dead. Then he started to scream, 'I cheated death! I cheated death'."

"And--?"

"Father Salvatore helped him to him feet and took the hood from his head. Then we all saw it."

"Saw what Signori Andolini?"

"The black cloud. It appeared from nowhere; from everywhere. It felt like the snow in the winter. But it stopped in front of Vincenzo and the cloud took the shape of a person. Its back was to all of us, but Vincenzo screamed and screamed. The cloud disappeared."

"And?"

"He's been locked away, Giuseppe. Vincenzo has become like a crazy man who had lost his mind."

"But what happened to Angelo?"

The mayor sighed. "He is dead," I told you. He shook his head. "That is another sad mystery. Angelo's hair had turned completely white; his face frozen in fear. It was only minutes after the first scream that we found him, but his body was completely stiff." The mayor squinted at Giuseppe. "Who knows what it means?"

"I think it means that the one who should have died did not, but has lost his mind, so would be better off dead. And poor Angelo, who died in his place, suffered a fast painful death."

The men looked at each other.

Giuseppe whispered quietly to the mayor. "I think it best no one knows the true events of what transpired here last night. Don't you agree?"

The mayor only nodded.

Together they walked inside the jail.

Coming soon: a new mystery Novella, Beyond the Border!

BIO:

Cindy Bartolotta hails from the winding Monongahela Valley, south of Pittsburgh. She has two short stories published in the Tribune Review's Focus Magazine, several entries in Metamorphosis,a literary journal 2006-2007, published by the Pleasant Hill's Public Library, and won several minor prizes in the 24-Hour writing contest. She creates a monthly word search puzzle for the Senior Times and is currently working on her second novel. Her first novel, Beyond the Border, is due out this fall.

Visit her blog, Traveler With an Idle Mind, at http://synlab.blogspot.com

Blurb for Beyond the Border:

School teacher Lizzie Grant learns a school-wide Halloween party is held for the students, a decision made after a young student disappeared on Halloween.

Curiosity peaked, Lizzie researched the disappearance and discovers the child is one of five people missing over a fifty-year span.

In the woods behind her house, Lizzie sprains her ankle and seeks help at a near-by reenactment village. Only after participating in the Festival itself, does Lizzie learn the truth about the village. She's even more shocked to discover she, too, is now considered a missing person.

What is Lizzie's tie to Marsh's Landing? Can she solve the mystery?

Cindy Bartolotta

1014 West Main Street

Monongahela, PA 15063

Synlab1@yahoo.com

The Darkened Hour

By Heather Kirchhoff

© 2013 Heather Kirchhoff

We quietly left our little group, our hands intertwined together. The night was silent as we crept away from the flaming fire. My boyfriend caught a hold of my wrist, pulling me closer once we were out of range from everyone else. With little help from the crackling firelight his profile was sharp, handsome.

Clouds suddenly moved away from the moon, making the brilliant silvery light flood down on us. I met his eyes as we were bathed in the moonlight. A slow smile curved Daniel's lips upward as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. I returned the kiss, intertwining my hands in his light shirt, bringing him closer to me. He pressed one hand to the small of my back while the other was buried into my hair.

Our kiss was fiery as it became passionate, taking my breath away. I let my eyes close as I stood up on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck as I did so. I felt him smile against my lips.

I was breathless when he pulled away, mischief sparking in his eyes. My lips felt like they were on fire, and I carefully raised my left hand to them, pressing the back of it against my tingling lips. Daniel silently watched me, his eyes never missing a beat. He reached out and gently touched my cheek, running his finger across my cheekbone. I smiled shyly at him, wrapping my own fingers around his.

In that moment it was as if we were the only two alive as I gazed into his dark eyes. I heard laughter coming from our classmates, but I barely spared them a glance. I was alone with the most perfect guy anyone could imagine. Why would I bother to look at them?

"Kelly," he murmured into my hair as he took a step closer. "Where is your mind wandering to now?"

"Nowhere."

"Oh, please. I can see it in the way your eyes glint-the way your smile suddenly brightens to one-hundred. Something has caught your mind. Is it something for your story again?"

"Don't be silly. If it does then I probably won't let you be this close to me. After all, I like my space while I'm thinking. You of all people should know that."

"Then what is it?"

I hesitated, wondering how much I should tell him. Of course, I knew I was being silly. After all the only thing that would-could-cross my mind in this moment would be him. Why doesn't he think of that?

"Kelly?"

"Yeah?" I muttered.

"What is it?" he asked, running his index finger in slow circles along the small of my back. I rest my cheek against his chest, sighing as I let my eyes close.

"It's you," I responded without much of anything. I carefully wrapped my arms around his waist as I spoke, hoping he wouldn't push me away. "What else could it be?"

"I always thought when I saw that glint in your eyes it was because of a new idea. Am I wrong?"

"Sometimes it is, but mostly it's you."

He sighed, and I felt his heart skip a beat. I pulled back slightly, watching him as he stared off into the distance. "What do you think they're doing?" he asked. I followed his gaze back to the fire and the ring of students that surrounded it.

"Probably beginning to wonder where we are."

"Maybe." Daniel suddenly crushed his lips to mine, and my heart skipped a few beats. I gasped as the kiss grew deeper, more intense than before. I kissed him back with the same hunger. Everything around us-all the little noises in the background-was suddenly cut out as my world became crystal clear of just me and Daniel. No one else existed except us.

I was on the edge, caught between my desire and mind. I wanted to go farther, but knew I couldn't. Not here or now. Maybe not even when we weren't on spring break.

"Kelly." The moment was shattered with that single word as Daniel pulled back away from me, staring at the twinkling stars. "I love you. You know that, right? I've always have. Ever since I first laid my eyes on you. I know you think that's impossible, but it's true."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered, breathing heavily.

"I guess I was afraid you didn't feel the same way. It's crazy, I know, but I could never shake that feeling. I was going to a few times before this, but whenever I tried we were always interrupted, or I backed down. I shouldn't have ever done that. I should have told you the minute I realized my true feelings."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I almost lost you a few times. Remember?"

"How couldn't I? My heart breaks every time I think of it."

The memories flooded over me as I spoke. Him walking away from me when he confronted me about my passion for writing. He had told me then it was too much and I couldn't if I wanted to be with him. I remember the time when I walked away from him that day I caught him kissing his ex-girlfriend. Of course, we weren't together then, but we had been good friends, and I thought he'd cared deeply for me, no one else. That time when I was hanging out with my two best friends more than him. I cried myself to sleep over all of those. No one should go through that.

"I'm sorry for those. Honestly, I was acting like an idiot. I know that now, and can't even come to forgive myself over almost losing you over such stupid things."

"Yeah." I couldn't think of anything else to say. My mind was racing the way it does when I get a new idea, but this had nothing to do with that. My boyfriend was confessing his love for me. Who knew this would ever happen?

"I do, Kelly. I really do love you with all of my heart and soul." A few tears streak down my cheeks, and I silently cursed at them. "Is there something wrong?"

Instead of answering him, I wrapped my arms around him, holding Daniel close as I silently cried. How could I ever forget those? My heart was aching for him to kiss again, but I shook that thought away. He had just confessed his love for me, and I was crying. What for? All because of stupid memories. Memories I wasn't even sure I wanted. I sighed as pain reignited within me, twisting my heart.

"Hey guys!" Cindy called as she came bounding over to us. My best friend had a knowing look in her eyes as she took us in. "Why do you leave our group?" she asked, pretending to pout.

"Like you need us over there," I said, watching her carefully. "Seemed like you were having a good time without us."

"Oh, please. The people over there are idiots."

"Hey, be nice. Our best friend is still over there."

"I know this. Soo why did ya leave us?"

"Why not?" I retorted, seeking a glance at Daniel who was smiling as he quietly listened to our banter. There was a sharp glint in his eyes as he caught me looking, meeting my gaze with his dark one. I smiled, shaking my head slightly as I turned my eyes back onto my best friend. I could feel Daniels gaze on me still, but I focused on Cindy as she watched me. After a moment of silence I realized that she had caught our little shared glances.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I get it. You wanted to be alone." A mischievous smile suddenly lightened up her face as she backs away. "Just so you know, we are leaving soon. Gotta be moving on."

"Come on," Daniel said suddenly, speaking for the first time since Cindy showed up. "Let's go join them. Don't want anyone else noticing."

"Right," I murmured as my boyfriend intertwined our fingers together. We silently followed Cindy back to the group who seemed to be way too drunk.

"What have they been doing while we were gone?" I whispered to Daniel, keeping my voice low enough so Cindy couldn't hear me.

"Having way too much fun," he replied, casting me a sideways glance.

"Like us college students should."

"Yeah," he murmured in my ear. I felt his hot breath against my flesh as we settled down in the firelight. Daniel slipped his arm around me, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting everything that's happening around me ease my mind as I let my thoughts wander back to my laptop and my writing.

The last time I had added another chapter onto my story was almost a month ago; I had gotten too busy with school, my friends and boyfriend to be able to do anything else. A ghost of a smile lingers on my lips as I thought of the times I spent with my characters well into dawn. I remember the times I zoned out in class as I thought of a new plot or twist to add into my story.

But I also remember the uncertainty.

When I first started out I would always have the desire to ask someone how it is or if it's good. I'd always have to bite it back so I hardly ever print anything out. In all honesty I obsess over every little thing, perfecting anything that may be unclear, adding onto my characters, and then changing my mind. I close my eyes as words began to spell out in my mind, a new chapter beginning. I felt my heart slowing, my breathing becoming shallow as those words painted a picture that was crystal clear with no flaws anywhere.

While my thoughts were racing I was playing with the hem of Daniel's shirt. He silently placed his hand over mine, kissing the side of my head. I shivered at the cool breeze, opening my eyes to watch the flames flicker and flare, dancing along the wood, quickly devouring it. The scene still played in my mind, but it was distant. Daniel ran his hand along my bare arm, attempting to keep me warm.

Heat embraced us as the fire began to be build up again, I watched the flames flicker and flare, dancing in a way I never could. Soon, I find my eyes wandering towards the sky as millions of glittering stars danced along the dark blue night sky, weaving with each other. In the middle of all that was the silver moon, its light casting us half in shadows and half in firelight.

"What are you looking at?" Daniel murmured in my ear, following my gaze.

"The sky," I replied. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Uhh...okay?" he said, and I heard the hint of a snort within his voice. "I guess."

"Oh, you just can't see it."

This time he did snort, shaking his head.

"Okay, then, tell me what do you see when you look at the stars?" I asked, pulling away from my boyfriend slightly as I studied him carefully.

Daniel sighed, rolling his eyes upward. "Stars and the sky," he said, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Daniel!" I exclaimed, slapping his arm. "You are so not artistic."

He laughed, grabbing my hand as I laid it onto my lap. With our fingers intertwined together, he laid our linked hands on my lap, his arm still wrapped around me. With his free hand he grabbed for a drink, taking a long swig before offering it to me. I held up our hands, shaking my head.

"Oh, right," he sighed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He pulled me closer to him, his arm wrapped tightly around me. "Do you want some?" he asked barely giving me anytime to reply when he pressed it against my lips, tipping it upward. I closed my eyes as the nice cool liquid went down my throat.

After a few minutes Daniel removed the bottle, taking another long drink. I watched him as he began to take up a conversation with one of his friends, laughing and tapping his bottle against his leg. A smile lit up his eyes as he spoke about whatever way the conversation went.

"Kelly, weren't you pregnant for a time being?"

"What?" I exclaimed as shock coursed through my body, numbing it.

Everyone near us fell quiet as they stared at me, their gazes flaming with curiosity. I was too dumbstruck to speak. I could feel Daniel's burning gaze on me, his thumb-which had been rubbing circles onto my palm-came to a halt once those words were said.

"Of course she wasn't," Cindy said finally, breaking the monstrous silence. "Why would you say such a thing?"

The girl that had asked the question shrugged, flipping her blonde hair back behind her shoulder. "That's just what I heard."

"Well, you heard wrong." With that she turned her back on the girl, but had scooted closer to me. "You need to tell Daniel the truth," she murmured into my ear, keeping her voice low enough for only me to hear.

I met her sincere gaze and, after a moment, nodded. She was right. I had to tell Daniel the truth-I couldn't hide it anymore. The longer it was hidden the more dangerous it could be for our relationship.

I waited a few moments longer, letting everybody get that off their mind so they won't be suspicious of us when I do make an excuse to go talk to him.

I wasn't prepared when he untangled himself from me, getting up to get another drink. I swallowed, my nerves tingling as I slowly got up, following him to the cooler.

"Umm...Daniel?" I asked hesitantly, wiping my clammy hands on my jeans. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah. About what?"

I grabbed his hand and pulled him a little bit more away from our classmates. When we were a few feet shy of them I said, "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I couldn't figure a way how-and I didn't think it was that important, but now I see I was wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath before responding, "I had been pregnant before."

"You what?" Shock replaced his calm that had been there seconds before.

"In high school before we started dating-hell, before we knew each other." Daniel didn't say anything when I paused for a few minutes, so I continued, "It was a year before we met. I had gotten pregnant with a baby girl-"

"Why are you now telling me this?" he interrupted, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Because we're dating, and you deserve to know."

"I know now. You got pregnant, had a baby with your ex. I'm guessing you guys gave her away. End of story."

"No," I whispered. "We didn't."

Daniel froze from turning away, his eyes piercing mine as our gazes met. Electricity raced between us even though we weren't even that close to each other anymore. I felt the prickle of tears as I remembered that day way back then. As I remembered feeling lost and helpless.

"She died in the womb."

With those words tears broke free, running down my cheeks. I didn't bother wiping them away. After all Daniel has already seen them so what was the point?

All of the pain I had locked down deep inside me suddenly overflowed me as those horrid words came sweeping through my mind, as clear as when I heard them.

"I'm sorry to say that she's dead," the nurse had said solemnly, a few tears glittering in her eyes. "I'm really sorry."

I wrapped my arms around myself as a shiver racked my body. Daniel didn't make a move to comfort me; he just watched.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," he said finally, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. "We've been together long enough I'd think you would have already told me."

"I didn't know how."

"You might as well tell me everything," he said, keeping his distance from me. "What happened?"

"You're mad at me, and I'm sorry for that. She had suffocated-err, chocked to death-because of the umbilical cord. It was wrapped around her neck when she was born. They tried to save her, but couldn't."

"I'm sorry about that." Pain flashed across his face as he spoke, and I knew it had nothing to do with my daughter. "But right now I can't do this, Kelly. I need time." With that he walked away, leaving me crying as a searing hot sensation over flooded me.

I watched him retreat, my heart clinching, twisting as he soon became one with the shadows. I fell to my knees as my grief suddenly came forth, the deep sorrow I had felt about three years ago. I'd buried it within me, always making sure I kept all of the good times up front. I hardly ever let myself think whenever I was surrounded, except for what was going on at the time. I always did that, never letting people see how much I really hurt inside.

Suddenly, I was remembering everything about my daughter-from the time I found out I was pregnant to the first time I ever saw her in the ultrasound and heard her heartbeat. It was as if I was feeling her now as my stomach flips, curling. I closed my eyes and imagined the first time I ever felt her-the way she lightly kicked me, moving within as if she was a fish moving upstream.

I turned my face upward, letting the coolness of the night wash over me. I stayed like that for some minutes, wiping the back of my hand across my cheeks, willing the tears to stop. After a few mintues they did, like always. I then shakily stood up, heading back to where our group was. My footsteps seemed loud in the quiet night as I walked.

When I finally got there I couldn't see any light. The chilling breeze whipped through my hair as I looked around, fear tingling up my spine as I realized the horrid truth. "Guys?" I called, my eyes darting, seeking for my classmates. "This isn't funny. Where are you?"

No reply came. I shivered as I sank to the hard ground, knowing exactly what they've done. A stray tear fell down my cheek, and I wiped it away. The reality bit into my flesh, and I quickly started denying it.

They wouldn't do this.

My thoughts were jumbled. They're my classmates so why would they leave me behind? What did I ever do to them?

All of a sudden, I heard a cry sound in the far distance; it almost sounded human. The sharp noise of it rang in my ears as my breathing went ragged. I closed my eyes, seeing the faces of my two closest friends and my boyfriend. Where are they?

"Please," I whispered. "Don't do this to me. Don't leave me like this."

I knew it didn't do any good, but I couldn't help myself. I just couldn't think of them abandoning me; something must have happened to them. I shook that thought away, trying to stay positive. I couldn't let my fears get a hold of me.

A low roaring sound came from the trees that loomed in front of me. My head shot up from being pressed into my knees as a snapping sound came from behind me.

My heart was suddenly racing as I jumped to my feet, bolting from the noise and my possible attacker. Keep calm...just keep calm. The words chanted in my mind as icy wind painfully hit me in the face, making my chest burn.

A scream wrenched its way free as I tripped and stumbled, falling down. Pain seized me the second I hit the rocky ground. I gasped for breath as I attempted to shake off the pain.

A screeching noise came from my right and I whirled around, my eyes scouring the darkness that surrounded me. I held my breath, biting my lip so hard blood poured into my mouth, rich and salty. I coughed, choking on the taste.

I couldn't breathe.

I felt like I was being suffocated, the air from my lungs slowly disappearing. I gasped, blood spilling down my chin as I did so. I coughed again, collapsing onto my hands and knees.

What's going on?

I tried to calm myself, to focus on my breathing, but it didn't help any. Don't freak...don't freak...don't freak...I closed my eyes as those words kept repeating, and it suddenly seemed like a voice was whispering it in my ear. I felt hot breath against my flesh. I kept my eyes closed, clenching my fists into the dirt. Stay still, and it'll go away, I told myself, knowing that it's not even the slightest bit true. But it was reassuring.

I carefully, slowly, laid on my side, curling up into a ball. With each twig that snapped my eyes, in turn, snapped opened, staring up at the inky darkness that seemed to stretch on forever. I could hardly see the twinkling stars through the thick trees, their leaves dancing in the brisk breeze.

I felt a whisper, as if a laugh, course over my body, making me shiver. I had the sinking feeling that I was being surrounded, with no daring way to escape. Tears cascaded down my fleshed cheeks as I realized what that meant. I didn't bother wiping them away, just let them stain my cheeks with water streaks as dirt now embeds itself into my skin.

Kelly...

A singsong. The voice was soft and sweet, metallic.

Kelly...come with us...

I froze as my thoughts disappeared, my breathing coming to a standstill as those words filled my mind, claiming me. I screamed as pain flitted through my mind, expanding throughout my body, coursing in my veins.

I couldn't move. It was like I was paralyzed as the metallic voice swept through me, caressing my skin. I shivered as it drew closer to me, ever so closer. I wanted to scream, to shake away the feeling that left my skin flaming, but I couldn't.

Help me, I wanted to shriek. Please, please help me! But the words wouldn't form. Nausea began clouding my thoughts, and each touch I now felt made me wince.

The temperature around me suddenly dropped, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I shivered, gasping. My heart started racing as I tried to gather my scrambled thoughts, trying to figure a way to save myself.

Nothing came to me.

I was starting to become frantic. I can't save myself...I can't... someone please help me. A whimper escaped my lips as pain started lashing out at me. My cries turned into cold terror as I realized there was no way out.

Kelly!

My name was a piercing scream, but I knew it was just a trick. They were trying to get to me. Well, I wasn't going to break. Hell no.

Leave me alone.

I sent that thought away from me, to whatever power laid beyond my soul. I felt it vibrate within me, exploding. I felt my heart tug as if crying out. I slowly felt my oxygen evaporate, leaving me dizzy and lightheaded.

What's happening?

My thoughts become blurred together as blackness clouded the edges of my vision, taking over. I closed my eyes, pinching them tightly together as I fought to keep myself awake.

I can't do this.

The sudden thought slammed into my mind like a bomb going off, making a fiery pain sizzle at the back of my skull. Doubt began consuming me as it pierced my flesh, seeking my fear. I knew I shouldn't do that, but I couldn't help it. Everything I felt in that moment overpowered me as if I was drowning, all of my senses gone. I tried fighting back, but knew it was worthless. My thoughts and feelings can be so easily overwhelmed that I have no idea which one is which. I shuddered as my mind was over flooded with my fleeting thoughts. A whimper escaped my lips as my eyes droop closed, unable to fight against the overwhelming sense to go to asleep.

I let my consciousness drift as darkness engulfed me.

"Kelly? Kelly!" A familiar voice surrounded me as I felt warmth creep into my flesh. "Please, open your eyes. Look at me."

Every inch of my body felt heavy as I tried to move. I wanted to let my companion know I was okay, but I couldn't do anything except listen to the soothing voice as he coaxed me into waking.

"Please, sweetheart. Do this for me."

After a few moments of silence, I complied. My eyelids felt like weights were settled on them as I did so. I sucked in a deep breath as the air filled my lungs, stinging.

"Thank God," he whispered, lightly placing a kiss on my forehead. The gentle brush of his lips against my cool flesh made me gasp. A small smile curved his lips upward as he gazed down on me. "I'm so glad I found you." He ran his knuckles down my cheek as he spoke, his eyes dancing. When he saw how shaken up I was, he slightly pulled away, confusion sparkling in his pretty eyes. "What's wrong?"

My heart twisted as I saw the worry there. "Darkness..." I whispered, shivering at the memory. "I was taken by darkness."

"Taken?"

I nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Pain captured me as I tried to get away. I thought..." I trailed off as a whimper came forth.

"You thought what?" my boyfriend asked after a moment, when he was sure I wasn't going to say anymore.

"I thought you guys left me." My voice shook as a few tears ran down my flushed cheeks.

"I would never leave you."

I was about to reply when screams suddenly cut through the night. Daniel pulled me to my feet seconds before we took off running towards where our classmates where presumably. He led the way as we ran, his hand clutching mine. Everything that happened earlier was at the back of our minds as we raced through the forest.

I heard a loud screech ahead and flinched back, making Daniel stumble, but he didn't stop. I tightened my hold on his hand, which was growing slippery. My breathing was quickly becoming ragged, my heart pounding faster the farther we went.

By the time we stopped, I was aching everywhere. I fell to my hands and knees, gasping. My chest was hurting extremely badly, and I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes, hoping to make the world stop spinning.

"Kelly?"

I felt nice warm hands on my back, his voice at my ear as he spoke. I was afraid to move so I stayed still, letting my heart slowly slow down.

"Hey," he said, gathering my hair out of my face. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

After a moment went by I slowly sat back, leaning against Daniel. He wrapped his arms around my waist as I did so. Silence hung around us like a drape. My ragged breathing were almost gasps; each breath I took racked my body, making Daniel hold me tighter.

"Are you okay?" he repeated after several minutes went by.

"Yeah," I rasped, repositioning myself to where I could lay my cheek against his chest. "I'm fine."

"Listen, I'm-"

"We should go," I interrupted. "Whatever was here could always come back, and I don't want to be here when it does."

"Yeah," he replied. "You're right." Daniel studied me for several minutes, his eyes sparking with something unknown to me. "Why do you look so scared?"

"I'm not," I said, a hint of a snort in my voice.

"If you say so."

I glared at him, and Daniel held up his hands as if in mock surrender. I shook my head and rolled my eyes; turning on my heels, I began to walk away. "You don't always have to be right," I said over my shoulder. "Just because I look scared doesn't mean I am."

"I know that," he responded. I glanced back at him, surprised that he was close behind me. I faltered, stepping on a branch; I flinched as it made a loud cracking sound, as if a gun shot went off. I quickly moved from that spot, reaching for my boyfriend. "You know we're safe, right? You don't have to do all of that."

"You must know deep down that we're nowhere near safe."

He didn't reply.

"Hey," I said suddenly, "what happened back there? When I got back to our 'camp' no one was there."

"That's because everyone scattered," he said calmly as if it was totally normal. "A few girls heard some noises so me and a few other guys went to check it out, but when we got back everyone was gone. We had heard a few screams before, but didn't think anything of it."

"Screams?"

He nodded as if that was answer enough.

I stared at him, processing everything he said. I didn't understand why anyone of our classmates would leave the designated spot unless something awful happened.

"Kelly?" he asked, noticing the way my expression changed to wonder. "What's going through that pretty little head of yours?"

"What could have happened to them," I replied as my heart began to speed up. Honestly, that thought was driving me crazy. What in hell could have happened?

"What do you have?"

"I don't know," I said after a few minutes. "But it's nothing good."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," I murmured. "In my mind's eye nothing is good."

"Let's keep walking," he said, taking my arm and leading me.

"You don't feel safe now?"

He glanced at me as if trying to assess if I was being sarcastic or not. After a moment he must have decided the latter because Daniel replied, "A little."

"A little?" I asked. "Wouldn't that be code for afraid?"

"Shut up," he answered just shy of a snap.

"Hey, I was being serious. No sarcasm around here."

"Wow, this must be serious then. You're putting all of your attention on it."

"Our lives could be in danger," I snapped. "Aren't you worried of that?"

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Not really. After all, you are an amazing fighter; you could protect us."

"Quit joking around."

"Actually, I was being quite serious on that amazing fighter part. You can hold your own in one."

"Well, thanks, but not the time."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"Thanks. So what are we going to do now?"

"You're the genius, you tell me."

I pondered that over, my mind weaving possible scenarios. While I was thinking, a brisk breeze washed over my already tingling flesh. I was freezing. I bit down on my lip as goose bumps raced across my skin, my fingers going numb.

"First of all, we need fire," I said, shivering. My teeth rattled together and I winced; I could taste the bitterness of fresh blood in my mouth. Noticing this Daniel wrapped me in his embrace, instantly chasing away the goose bumps.

"Okay, fire, and then what?"

"I don't know." I hated voicing those words, but it was true. I had no idea what was going to happen. I didn't know if we were going to live or die, and I don't like it.

"Damn," he muttered, pulling away from me and slipping off his leather jacket. He placed it on my shoulders, and almost immediately I could feel my flesh warming up. "You stay here. I'll be back."

"But what if you don't come back?" I whined. "What if something happens again?"

He stared at me, defeat starting to flare in his eyes as he said, "Alright, you can come with me."

"I don't need permission. I was only saying. Besides that, wouldn't it be easier to have some help?"

"No," he said immediately.

I pulled his jacket closer to me, watching him intently. Daniel met my steady gaze, and I almost flinched away. What I saw there was the most heartbreaking thing ever. I could see the all-powerful love he felt for me, as well as, the fear of losing me. I felt a piece of my heart break the more our gazes stayed locked.

For a few moments, I couldn't speak. I was stuck speechless. Some words formed in my mind, but nothing came out as I tried to voice them. All I could do was simply stare into those emotion filled eyes. I was unable to tear away from the depths of them, so I just stood there, letting his emotions wash over me.

A roar suddenly sounded, shattering the moment. At the same time we looked in the direction it came. I was prepared for a bear or something, but not what I saw. A six-foot monster came barreling towards us, its teeth as sharp as razors as it roared again, flashing them at us. I took a few steps backward, my eyes never straying from the beast. Its fur was an extremely dark charcoal, its eyes a crimson beady red. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

Daniel, always the one to take action first, grabbed me, pulling me backwards as we took off running in the opposite direction. I could hear the beast's furious scream as it charged after us. We barreled through the woods, snapping tree branches, crunching leaves. I winced every time there was a loud crack, knowing the beast could hear it and be lead directly to us. My hand slipped out of my boyfriend's as I stumbled; I reached out to grab Daniel's hand again, but found nothing.

I screamed suddenly as I tripped over a peeking branch, falling and tumbling down a hill. I tried to grasp something to stop myself, but everything I grabbed only came out of the earth. I hit the bottom with a thud, intense pain flaming throughout my entire body. I was dazed for a few minutes. I stayed where I was until the spinning stopped. After a moment, I carefully stood up, wiping my bleeding hands on my jeans.

I glanced around, causing icy pain to flit through me. I closed my eyes tightly, willing it to go away. When I opened them again, I instantly realized that I was alone.

Daniel was nowhere in sight.

Somehow we must have gotten separated, but how? My heart hammered at this realization. I tried to picture where he could be, but nothing came to me. I pulled out my cell phone, my eyes traveling the screen until I found what I was looking for.

No signal.

I sighed as I read those two words again and again. Damn it. That isn't going to get me anywhere. I shook my head and snapped my phone closed, returning it back to my pocket. I assessed my surroundings, trying to locate somewhere where I could be safe for a while.

Unable to find anything that wasn't on the ground, I began walking. My legs were screaming its protest, but I ignored the pain. I had to get somewhere safe-I couldn't just stay in one place and be bait. So I kept on trekking towards the unknown, knowing it's much safer. I let my hands brush the grass in the areas it was tall, letting the nice cool graze wash over my fingertips. All the while my eyes darted, looking for any signs of danger.

I went on like that, watching as the black night soon turned into a light dawn. I was quickly growing tired, my vision beginning to blur with sleepiness. A yawn split my lips and I paused, letting myself fall to the ground as I tried to sit. I didn't bother looking around me as I found a place under a tree and laid down, letting sleep curl within me as I drifted off.

I awoke to a snapping. Instantly I bolted upright, my eyes studying everything around me. Another snapping sound came from behind me and I spun around, taking a couple steps back. I grabbed a tree branch, wishing I had a better weapon.

"Relax, Kelly." a boy about my age said as he stepped out of the shadows of a tree. He was one of Daniels friends, and I silently let my eyes wander him, looking for any injuries. He was slim, tall, and well-muscled. His light hair caught the sunlight, making it swirl with gold.

"Damn, you're a mess," he said, studying me. "What happened to you?"

"Long story," I answered. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"Trust me if I had I wouldn't be alone right now." He reconsidered and added, "Well, besides you, of course."

"I knew what you meant."

"What about you?"

"Yeah," I replied carefully. "Daniel."

"What the hell?" he said as began to look around. "Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean by that?" he exclaimed. "How can you not know?"

"We were separated."

"How?"

"I don't know. One minute he was with me, the next gone."

"Wonderful." Sarcasm dripped from his voice like venom, threatening to kill. I caught a hint of hatred in his eyes as he regarded me. "Anyone else?"

I shook my head. "No, we better be going."

"Ye-"

He was cut off as a loud roar echoed around us. I cringed, turning towards the sound. The animals near us went crazy; birds flitting from the trees, the squirrels, and anything else that was on the ground streaked for cover. The forest went quiet within a few moments.

"What was that?" Daniel's friend demanded, coming up behind me. "I've never heard anything like it."

"Oh, no," I whispered, imagining the creature stalking Daniel and then lunging, going for the kill. The image in my mind showed my boyfriend being devoured quickly, as if there were no time for anything else. His blood spurted out and I winced, wishing I could turn it off. A few tears ran down my cheeks as I realized that could be anyone.

"Oh, no, what? Kelly, do you know something I don't?"

"Yeah. We need to get out of here right now."

I started backing away from the horrid noises, ignoring his poisonous look as he glanced from me to the dreaded spot and back. I met his gaze, letting my eyes tell the story I never could. When the raged roar came again, I whirled around and bolted.

I ran until my muscles were burning, crying for me to stop. Behind me I suddenly heard a surprised cry as my companion lost his balance. I shot a glance over my shoulder, feeling my eyes go wide as I did so. I slowed my pace, turning to stare at Daniel's friend. With a loud crack he looked behind him only to see the six foot monster. With a strangled cry, he instantly turned toward me, screaming, "Run!"

I hesitated, unsure if I should leave him to his horrid fate. The monster crouched above him, its eyes glowing with hunger as it roared, showing razor sharp teeth. Shooting an apologetic glance to my classmate, I fled from the scene, doing my best to block out the screams as the beast fed.

Breathing heavily, I hid under a low hanging tree branch, unable to go on anymore. I sat there in the grass, listening as howls came from somewhere close. I closed my eyes, waiting to be found, waiting for my death. Fear spiked along my spine, as shuffling is registered. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, my heart racing a thousand miles a minute. A growl came from beside me, and I froze as I felt hot breath against my flesh.

The beast roared as I'm knocked backwards, and out of my hiding place. I gasped as pain shot through me, my body on fire. I tried getting up, but the gigantic beast lunged, knocking me down again. With its huge hand, it pinned me; the creature's eyes flared with hunger, the red glowing brightly. I struggled, trying to get free, but it was incredibly strong.

"Let go!" I cried. Our eyes locked, its breath hot while mine's becoming flimsy. "Please," I begged, my body racking with fiery white-hot pain as it closed its hand tighter. "Leave me alone!"

It closed even more, causing a scream to rip free. I kicked weakly, my body losing strength. My own hands clawed at it fiercely as darkness started taking over my vision. I gasped, but didn't get fresh air. I got nothing but hot pain. I winced, my fear hiking higher.

"Let her go!"

I turned my head towards the frantic voice, my vision instantly blurring and going black. I heard the beast howl, a high ear piercing screech, and the pleading voice of the person. I heard cursing, the beast screeching again, letting me go slowly.

My ears began ringing, my head pounding as I swim in and out of consciousness. I shivered, growing cold; a harsh breeze licked against my flesh, stinging it. I cried out, the darkness devouring me.

A light touch trailed along my skin, the gentlest whisper of my name coaxing me to open my eyes. I groaned, convulsing, my flesh clammy.

"Kelly, please." After several moments, my eyelids fluttered opened. I blinked, my vision slowly going into focus. "Thank you," he whispered, planting a kiss on my lips softly.

"Daniel?" I croaked, my body burning with rage.

"It's me," he murmured. "You'll be okay. Don't move," Daniel added when I tried sitting up. I flinched at the sizzling pain, letting his gentle hands guide me back onto the ground.

"You saved me."

He ran his finger along my cheek, wiping away the tears that glided down my flushed cheeks. "Yes. I should have been here, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I assured him quickly.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm here, and you're safe now. I won't let anything else happen."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep," I rasped.

"I'll make sure I keep it, Kelly." It tore at my heart how sure he sounded.

"Okay," I said, dropping it.

Daniel opened his mouth to say more, but was caught off guard by a bloodcurdling scream. We stared at each other, frozen for a minute before my boyfriend grabbed a hold of me, hauling me onto my feet. He took my hand, helping me as we raced towards the sound.

When we got there, my best friend cautiously stepped from the shadows, fear cracking around her.

"They're gone," she whispered, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as a shiver racked her body. "Everyone. They're all dead."

"What do you mean dead?" I demanded, leaning against Daniel for support. "Some of them has to be alive."

"They were killed by a beast. I saw it happen myself."

"All of them?" Tears raced down my cheeks as realization overtook me. Grief for our lost ones gnawed at me.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I-" I stopped, my breathing abandoning me.

"What?" Daniel's voice shook as he spoke that one word. It broke my heart to hear the sorrow in his voice.

A roar suddenly collided against us, and I staggered into my boyfriend. He caught me as my eyes fixed on a beast that loomed before us, its beady eyes glowing crimson as they locked on us, hunger gleaming in them.

"Run!"

The cry split the night as the three of us bolted, running until our muscles were burning, until we felt safe.

Heather Kirchhoff lives in a small town in Missouri with her three parents, siblings, an energy-filled dog, and three cats. She became a bookworm back in sixth grade when her teacher suggested the Phantom Stallion series by Terri Farley and instantly fell in love. She loves reading paranormal stories, plus some love ones here and there. Besides reading and writing, Heather likes to go for walks-especially in the woods-hunt, fish, spend time with her animals/family, and listen to music. Writing is her passion-it helps her escape the world for a while, as well as reading-she doesn't know what she'd do without it. She just loves it. When she isn't writing, Heather is doing odd jobs, reading, taking walks, or spending time with her animals/family. Heather is currently a junior in high school.

US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DQT46YI

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Last-Night-ebook/dp/B00DQT46YI/ref=cm_rdp_product/280-8322625-1605137

Author Page (if allowed): https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Heather-Kirchhoff/376618135776063

The Site

By Patrick Van Slyke

© 2013 by Patrick Van Slyke

Her real name was Laurie but she only answered to Blackmoon. Her parents gave her shit over the name and they gave her shit over her looks, but she didn't care. They didn't understand her anyway. Oh, she knew it was a cliché, parents not understanding children, but in her case it was real. They worked hard to stay away from her and she worked equally hard to stay away from them. Eighteen couldn't come soon enough.

It had all started in Junior High. Till then things had been good, but once she had been introduced to new ideas and philosophies it didn't take long for her to realize that life was pain, just an effort in futility.

She dressed the way she felt, dark, torn. Goth was what the other kids called it but they didn't get it either. It wasn't Goth or Emo or any other type of style. It was life. Life was a sick chore and her clothes worked to make her outside look like her inside. In fact, she had tried to end her life a couple of times, or at least pretended to try, and she had gotten lots of attention, but it wasn't the attention she wanted. She wanted people to understand her pain but instead they just committed her to the 'return to a joyful life inpatient unit' and after a few stays she had learned her lesson. She wasn't going to try again, until she was ready to really do it. She wasn't sure when that would be but she was pretty sure it would be soon.

Thankfully, there were some kids at school who understood her. They felt her pain and understood the futility of life. It was when she was with them that she felt understood. They looked alike, dressed alike, acted alike. They wrote the same kind of morbid poetry and music. Everyone else was just posers. Only the true Pain kids really got it.

"My parents are such hypocrites," her friend Rage had commented one afternoon as they smoked behind the school. If they got caught they would be suspended but they didn't really care. "They run around like corporate tools, buying this and buying that, thinking that it will bring them happiness. I don't know how they can look at themselves in the morning every day.'

"My family is the same, and my brother is the worst. He's Mr. Jock and all he thinks about is sports. Like they matter, when there is so much suffering in the world. I just don't know how much longer I can put up with their phony acts."

"I know just how you feel. I'm glad we have each other to talk to. It is like holding a real conversation. Not like those other idiots. And school is worse. Essays on weather patterns? Really? God, it is the epitome of stupidity. It would make more sense if the weather turned on us and crushed out mankind."

Blackmoon nodded in agreement. "Someday it will change," she foresaw. "Someday people will see through the veil of their capitalistic slavery and really understand the pain that is behind everything."

"Say, that reminds me," Rage said, almost with animation. "There is a new website on that you have to check out. It is called "Into the Dark" and it really makes sense. It looks into different atrocities every week. It really brings home the hopelessness of humanity. You've got to see it. It's awesome."

"Fuck yeah, that sounds awesome. Maybe it will bring my ignorant family around. They just don't understand pain. What's the address?"

Rage had been right. "Into the Dark" was instantly Blackmoon's favorite site. She tried hard to get her family to watch a clip, and her brother had even sat through half an episode before he had blown her off. Everyone hated the site and Nightshade knew why. It was real. It showed starvation and war and pain and death. It showed what she stood for. Someday, she thought. Someday she would leave this cookie-cutter phony life and join those really living. Hopefully, sooner than later.

"Hey! Wait up. Fuck, Rage! Did you see the clip on the site last night?" Blackmoon asked weeks later. They had been seeing much less of each other since the semester change.

"What site?"

"What site...?" she laughed. "You know. Into the Dark!"

"Seriously? You still watch that?"

"Of course," Blackmoon answered confused. "I never miss it. I check out their website every day. They have the entire episode catalog. When I am in my cage at home I watch them non-stop."

"Jeese, dude. There is more to life than just watching people get splattered. Sounds like you're getting obsessed," her friend cautioned. "I mean there is some good stuff in the world, too."

"What are you talking about, Rage?" Blackmoon spat viciously. "You're the one that turned me on to the show in the first place. Haven't you watched it? It talks about hopelessness and despair. Yeah, it's heavy stuff, but it is stuff we stand for."

"I don't stand for that stuff, Blackmoon; not anymore. That is the way things are but the idea is to try to bring awareness and try to bring change."

"But that's how it is. It's impossible to change it."

"I don't think so any more. Are you just going to sit around mopping? We can change things. We can make things better."

"That's not how you used to feel. Remember? '...school is the epitome of hypocrisy?' Wasn't that you?"

"Sure it was me, but people change. I want to be part of the solution, not just live in the problem. Being part of the solution is learning."

"We can't change shit! That's what set us apart, that understanding. It's the world that is the problem and it can't be changed."

"No, dude, that thinking is the problem. And that thinking can be changed. I don't want to think that way anymore."

Blackmoon looked at her friend in disbelief. "You self-righteous bitch. I see you are dressing differently now too," she said scornfully.

"Well, I did remove all my piercings. I didn't like them anymore and people couldn't take me seriously. But I am still using my clothes to explain how I feel. I feel hope."

Blackmoon shook her head. "You aren't the same person anymore."

"I guess I'm not. If that means you don't want to be friends anymore I get it. Listen, Darkmoon. I know I am the one that turned you on to the 'Into the Dark' but I am beginning to think that it is too much. You know, too depraved. Anyway, I am trying to lighten up a bit, try a bit harder in school, try to fit in a bit more. I know you probably think I'm a sell out and maybe I am but I think it is time to start growing up a bit. Life isn't that bad."

"Yeah, Rage, sellout is what I call it. But it's okay, I mean you got to do what you got to do. I guess we are not going to smoking in the back of the school anymore. Well, I got to do what I got to do, too. So good luck to you."

"You too. You're still my friend and I hope you find happiness! Oh, and just a favor, can you use my real name for now on. I'm Katie."

The split was drastic. The two friends rarely spoke after that and Darkmoon found herself retreating more and more into the site. It was morbid, there was doubt about it, but it matched her heart. The only reason she went to school at all was to keep her parents off her back. The only thing that really made sense to her anymore was her site, 'Into the Dark.' It was an articulation of her beliefs, an incarnation of her pain.

"Jeese, Laurie, are you getting any sleep. You look really exhausted," Katie had asked one day on their way to a shared class.

"Come on, Katie. I respect you enough to call you what you want to be called. I should be able to expect the same."

"You're right, Blackmoon. I'm sorry. But I am still worried about you. You look like you've lost weight and you look like you're only about half here. Are you stoned?"

Blackmoon sighed. "Na, I'm just a bit out of it. 'Into the Dark' is on twenty-four hours a day so I am not getting a lot done. It just seems so...important. It is difficult not to watch. Have you seen it lately?"

"No, I stopped watching a while ago. It was becoming too morbid and almost preachy. It's hard to explain. Anyway, it was bringing me down so I turned it off. Besides, Mark hates it."

"Oh yeah, you guys are dating, right? Hey, he seems like a pretty cool guy. How are you two doing?"

"Good. He is cool. I don't know if you would be interested but he has a friend that definitely digs you."

Blackmoon looked over at her friend to see if she was kidding. She was not. Rage, or Katie as she wanted to be called now, had definitely changed. As she had said she had removed all her piercings and her clothes had slowly become more mainstream. Blackmoon had to admit that her friend looked much more attractive and she seemed genuinely happier. Maybe it was time to make some changes in her life too.

Laurie smiled timidly at Katie. "Who would be interested in a witch like me?"

Her friend laughed. "Lots of guys. You're gorgeous. You just need to work on your attitude."

Laurie sat up a bit. "You know, Katie. You're a dumb-ass but maybe, just maybe this time you are right."

They both laughed.

That night, Laurie found herself being just a bit nicer to her brother and a bit more communicative with her parents. The results were astonishing. It was like she woke up in a new home. As she sat at the dinner table for the first time in months she smiled to herself. Maybe it was time to let Blackmoon go.

In her room she found hundreds of emails from the 'Into the Dark' website, just like every night. She deleted them all and consigned any new ones to the junk folder. Her browser was set to go directly to the site that she had spent so many hours of her life watching. This evening, however, she decided to go to the high school website. Maybe there would be some clubs or something she might be interested in. She typed in the address and hit go but nothing happened. She tried again.

Over and over, Laurie tried to get something else to show on her browser, but it wouldn't leave the site. She turned it on and off, cleared history, everything she could think of, but the browser would not leave the home page. Oh well, maybe some TV tonight.

"No way," she said to herself as she saw that 'Into the Dark' was now showing on her TV. How could a website be on her TV? They were not connected. Every channel showed the 'Into the Dark.' It was stuck.

The morbid site was always the same; a black border, boiling with yellow and orange flames and a box in the middle showing a video of some atrocity or catastrophe, with graphic details listed underneath. This evening it was showing children in some country starving, flies walking in and out of their dying mouths. It was horrible. All she wanted to do now was get away, but the computer wouldn't let her. She scrolled to the bottom and found that the copy-write was Hard-Metal Defense Corp. No fucking wonder. Of course those corporate bastards would want things to seem hopeless.

She tried to get the page to change again, and once again all she saw was the flames and the dying children. It was too much. All she wanted to do was lie down and get the horrible images out of her mind. This time, however, she couldn't take her eyes off the computer. It was so horrifying. How could such things happen in a world where people were good and cared about their brothers? The flames on the page began to mesmerize her.

Slowly, without thought or movement, Laurie fell asleep.

She awoke to the feel of a merciless sun beating down on her and the horrible smell of dust, feces and death. She shot into a sitting position and cried out in pain. There was something wrong with her. Terribly wrong. She carefully turned in a circle, trying to take in all her surroundings at once. She had to be dreaming. It looked like the desert. She looked down at her skin and found it dark brown, dry and emaciated. She felt a feeling she had never felt, a pain in her stomach and body that told of imminent death. If this was a dream, it was the most painful dream she had ever been in. It was the pain of starvation. She tried to scream out, but she didn't have the strength.

She looked around and found herself at the edge of a mud village also on the verge of death. There were a few children around, dying just like her. There was no one even to ask for a drink of water. What was happening to her? This was real. She was dying.

She looked away from the village and saw something most unexpected. There was a door just standing by itself in the middle of nowhere. It had to mean something. She crawled to it and with her remaining strength she stood and opened the door.

Explosions rocked the floor she was laying on. She smelt burning and she heard crying. She was no longer hungry or thirsty but now an unexplained terror ripped at her belly. She found she had a baby cradled to her body. The baby was crying but she could barely hear it over the explosions and gunfire. She did not recognize her clothes or the small room she was in. Smoke poured in the open window. There was some sort gun lying next to her.

Boots came storming up to the door, the door behind them. She heard soldiers screaming and bullets began to tear through the walls. Taking the baby she crawled to the door on the other side of the room. Reaching up she grasped the handle and as she turned it she felt a searing pain tear into her back. She screamed as she saw her baby torn by a bullet and then she fell through the door.

"Help me!" a female voice screamed out of the darkness. Laurie found she could once again stand; the pain was gone from her back. The child was gone too. Somehow this left a hole in her heart. As her eyes adjusted she realized that she was in a basement with a dirt floor.

"Help me!" the voice came again. She now saw that there were bodies that seemed to be suspended from the ceiling. "He'll be back any time!" the woman screamed again. "The keys...the keys! Their over there! Help!"

"What...what is going...?" Laurie started.

"Oh, no!" the woman cried. "You're new, aren't you? Did you just get here?"

"I...I see...." Laurie started. Now she could see the girl who was calling for help. She was tall, pretty, and she looked like she had been tortured for days. "How can I help...?"

"The keys are on the shelf, over there," the woman said hopelessly. "But it isn't going to matter. I thought maybe you knew a way out."

Laurie quickly located the keys without difficultly in the dim light and unlocked the woman's hands. She dropped to the ground. "Thanks," she said, her voice still hopeless.

"What's going on?" Laurie asked, looking around the basement.

"We're stuck," the woman said without feeling. "I was hoping you were someone who could help but I should know better." She headed for door Laurie had used to come from the war-zone.

"No, don't go that..." she started to protest but the woman cut her short.

"Yeah, I know. War zone. I came through there three days ago. Better than here."

"But, where's here?" Laurie asked.

The woman nodded to the door on the other wall. "Look through there and you will see exactly where you are.

Laurie opened the door and realized she must have woken up. She was standing looking into her room. She began to laugh in relief when she saw the door to her room open. Her mom and Katie came in.

"That's weird, Katie. She was just in here. She was in a great mood today. I know she would have loved to see you."

"I see she hasn't changed from that webpage," Katie said, looking directly at Laurie. "God, I wish she would give that up."

Laurie reached out and found thick glass between her and her room. She pounded on the glass and screamed, "I'm in here!" It was no use. No matter what she did the people who loved her could not see her.

"Well, would you tell her I just came to say hello," Katie said, turning toward Laurie's mom.

"Of course. You're welcome to wait if you would like. I am sure she will be right back."

"No, no I'll just take off. If you see her please just tell her I love her."

"If I see her...?" her mother was asking as they left and closed the door.

Laurie watched in horror as her friend and mom left. Slowly, helplessly, she turned to find where she was. She was surrounded by doors. Door and more doors. She looked back out into her room one last time and then opened the next door.

Patrick Van Slyke grew up in the shadows of the Big Horn Mountains in the small town of Sheridan Wyoming. An avid reader, as a child he was drawn to fantasy and science fiction. He attended the University of Wyoming and it was here that his love of Horror began. Patrick now lives in California with his daughter and fiancé.

Check out his other work at www.pcvanslyke.com or https://www.facebook.com/patrickcvanslyke

Knapp Ville

By Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney

© 2013 by Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney

"Who are you??"

The three words pierced through ma cochlea freezing every nerve of my body. I can feel the touch of death grabbing my shoulder holding me from all possible dimensions, neither a slightest corner to escape but a painful, slow, martyr domed end. I was numb, I can feel the chills oozing out from my veins from the frozen blood asking me to shout but not a single phonetic came out of my splintered vocal cords. I tried to run screaming but I found myself crashing on the floor numb, waiting for my existence to cease and repenting, murmuring her last words "someone has to pay", asking myself "why you took this dearthy turn Aquila, you could have gone straight home to your averagely normal life...."

(1)

It was late afternoon when I step out of my best friend Sylvie's house in my favourite pink trench Sylvie has gifted me thinking about the amazing last night and all the fun we girls had. We talked about all the teenage stuff, our future after high school and of course boys-being loved for which I always have an infinite craving, being mattered for at least someone. I have always been a nobody for everyone except Sylvie my blonde best friend. I hated my averagely normal life and after my mom it was more tormented. I was nothing more than a piece of fun for my schoolmates. Sometime I felt like I was so bad that I deserved to live a damned life, a life where my breaths don't matter, a life far worse than death.

The weather reports have announced about the approaching snow storms again, so Sylvie has advised me to reach home as soon as possible. I was hurrying towards my home with my maximum speed and I would be at my home in about 15 minutes. The temperature was below freezing and soon as expected it started to snow and there came my favourite turn to the KnappVille, though I needed to reach home as soon as possible but my craving to endure the lap of nature allured me to KnappVille. I stared at the turn and my feet their self-started walking towards it.

Knappville the oldest treacherous house of the town, whose vicinity was avoided by all, was my favourite place to spend my evening. I secretly used to hang out there. It was a beautiful world away from the realm, the only little adventure in my sorrowful life. The perfection of creation, enchanted gardens, walking on lush green lawns captivated my soul and while enjoying the serenity of dusk and dawn in that flawless and elegant lively mansion I used to live my dreams believing endlessly they will be true one day someday. I loved to walk through the pavement, sit in the garden and rest in the lobby no one has even seen in ages. The undefiled silence, pristine environment – an intoxicated realm where only I existed trying to know every dimension of my soul, making my life more meaningful, glossing it and most importantly living it at least for a while. There was a beautiful pool behind the mansion with all types of fishes golden, red, silver, small, spotted, large where I used to sit and unsoil my soul. In the front lawn there were old trees in different shapes, making figures from them was my favourite pastime. It was a very big villa with so many rooms I have not even count or entered. It seems like a century old palace inhabited by a powerful thoughtful king who dreamt of heaven on earth and accomplished it as Knapp Ville. Every corner every dimension of which was an undeniable example of excellent thought and planning and of course marvelous architecture but for now it was my palace.

Lost in my train of thoughts I reached Knappville and opened the all-time open door and laughing with that cracking eerie sound of the centuries old door I entered the foyer. It was already dark but I can clearly see the beautiful antique furniture draped in the white coat scattered all around, covered with millions of webs, the faded and frayed walls with few antique but ragged hanging paintings mourning on the sad part of the mansion, I turned to my right to enter my favourite room and sat by the window as always, relishing the decorous garden outside. The thousand year old Banyan tree was looking like murk witch carrying a small child on her hunch back, giving me chills. I started looking inside the room to the beautiful furniture and the huge cupboards. I wished I could live here forever. I moved towards the cupboard and opened it like I would find some magic that would change my life forever. Laughing on ma weird imaginations I looked inside the cupboard and there lied a beautiful antique mirror. I took the mirror in my hand and looked at my face; the new liner looked perfect, embossing my face without any smudge enhancing the shape of my eyes. My long black hairs with the curl locks were falling on my shoulder. "I did not look that bad" I thought.

Suddenly I felt a stone hand fastened over my shoulder making every little bit of me to shiver and that was when I heard a spellbinding but terrorizing voice saying "Who are you??"

I have been sitting here every evening from last seven years but not a single soul blotched the far vicinity, though I have always heard of unexplainable events happening here but for me KnappVille was utmost serene. The words stuck to my mind paralyzing it. I was frozen feeling the stinging grasp of death, blood rushed through my veins and I can hear my heart beating like a motorboat, making me feel giddy. Out of any savoir options I arrayed all the courage inside me and turned towards my death. H-e-llll-oo, AA-I-AMM-MM EL-LYOM-MM.

"What are you trying to say???" he said in his unbelievably calm and organized voice.

It took me almost eternity to come back to my senses and realize that I almost stammered my name but not because I was afraid but I was lost in those glittering hazel eyes shaped like two lotus on the innocuous olive skinned face blended with his sandy blonde hair. His thick chiseled brows showed content, understanding like he could read right through my mind and it was something about those full luscious lips that phased me I couldn't help but stare, he was truly the man of my dreams.

"Are you fine?"

"Yes! I am Elyom." I said collecting myself in a sudden rush.

"I am Enif, owner of this house!" he said gaping his topaz eyes towards me.

"Oh! I am sorry I broke into your house. It was dark and snowing so I...umm.... I thought I would rest here until the snow stops" I lied!! What would have I told him! That I love to break into his house on a routine basis!!

He looked at me with little suspicion in his lotus eyes and then he said "wise decision!! All roads towards the city have been closed. Come in the living room, it's quite cold here."

I looked at him, smiled nervously and followed his chaste walk holding my breath towards the living room.

(2)

To my surprise I walked into an untainted, arranged and properly arrayed lively living room. I was shocked, was I hallucinating?? It wouldn't have been 30 minutes when I walked through the smutty and sullied foyer with ribald walls covered in webs and now there was not even a small atom of dust. My psyche started screaming something was definitely wrong, it's not even possible, I have been almost living in this house from last seven years and it's always been unvisited, like an orphan and now all of a sudden someone claims to own it. Is there any slightest possibility that it could be true?

I looked around for Enif. He was in the kitchen making coffee. I could not help myself to stop staring at him as if it was not the first time we have met, as if I knew him through ages, as if I was waiting for him like forever, as if I owned him, as if he was a mirror of my own self. My psyche was battling my heart to save me from getting entrapped in the dangerous web of love with a man I barely know. But the spell on my heart was much stronger than all the vain efforts of my psyche and I found myself adulating the surrender of my psyche and I finally accepted I was undeniably and unconditionally in love with a stranger.

Enif came with a cup of coffee and a dress for me making me overwhelmed with his gesture for an uninvited guest he barely knew. I was slightly wet but the chilling breezes were making me tremble.

I came dressed in the elegant purple dress he has given me, which was surprisingly an exact fit. He came near me and pulled my hair backwards through his finger and said "you are beautiful Elyom".

My lips stretched on their own in a curve and I blushed. To my surprise he lifted my face to his own and his strawberry lips were resting upon mine sucking my breathe gracefully but with a passionate desperation. I could taste the serenity, the longing, the indescribable feeling of belonging when his lips possessed my mouth. His fingers intertwined to mine and his other hand crumbling at my bare back making me feel the pleasure of being in love for the first time. I could feel the rush in my every neuron. He bit the edge of my lower lip gently, slid me closer to him and started to undress me. I could feel the perfection in every move of his, which was seducing me endlessly. My eyelids fall for a brief second beguiled by his charm and he lifted me like a paper leaf and took me in his room to his bed. He was lavishing me with his chivalry, his tactile sensation, nibbling my earlobe, snipping and stroking my cheeks tenderly with uttermost care and love as if I was a flower with any petal of me ready to get detached at any moment. I stared into his beautiful eyes to find that serenity, chaste but they were glazed and ensnared with desire, at that moment he was like a hungry man in a banquet with the utmost delicacies in front of him confused from where to start. He tilted and arched his masculine shoulders with his bare ensnaring chest lingering upon mine and kissed my closed eyelids while the secrets of my femininity were lying in front of him. I embraced him with all my strength desiring to get dissolved into him, never be apart from this roaring eruption of adrenaline faster than blood rushing through my veins, with the speed of light, brushing his bare chest with tips of my fingers. We were intoxicated with this undefiled vine of love. I could feel the sweet scent of arousal, the rush of love boiling in my body. I have consecrated myself to him and like a small beam of light illuminating a dark room his love was illuminating my soul. He was deep into me in every possible way touching my soul, claiming his right upon me giving me the endless imaginable pleasure made me skip my breath like for a second time has stopped out of jealousy to feel the immense pleasure I was feeling, to get drowned in unexplainable love like me, to make a perfect sensational love.

"I love you ELYOM" his words were vibrating in my heart in the most enticing tune I have ever heard. That was the day when I understood the true meaning of EROS.

(3)

I woke up smiling lost in the thoughts of the beautiful night which have been engraved on my soul forever, still belligering myself to avoid opening my eyes , scared that the serene dream will elope in nadir. It was amazing how he spoke right to my soul without saying a word we conversed for hours, the understanding, the love we shared was understandable and unexplainable and I wanted to live it again. At last I opened my eyes to find myself on his bed in his room...wasn't I dreaming, I really made love with him, he really existed, he really wanted me to stay till the evening when he will be back and love me again. A lot of unanswered questions hovering over my mind whose answer lied in the unexplainable truth hard to believe. I decided to wait till evening and know the truth. I descended from his bed finding myself tired, pale and somewhat ill like I have lost a dozen kilo grams in a single night. I almost ran towards the mirror, screaming at the dreadly me, I have become extremely thin like a skin coat on a skull, I have lost all my curves, there were dark circles below my eyes, my face has lost all his gloss. I covered my face with my hands, tears rolled down my flattened cheeks unable to understand what has happened to me in a single night. I pinched myself in hope that I would wake up realizing that it was a mere nightmare far far away from reality, one of my wild imaginations that would never be true, though I never wanted to forget Enif but he could not be real. I was losing all my senses; I collected my stuff in a total rush and ran towards the exit of Knapp Ville to find out the reality later. I started walking towards the door and it seemed that door was walking away from me. I accelerated and so does the door; I started shivering but I gathered all my strength and ran somehow managing to open the door to find myself hanging ---- the exit to the Knapp Ville has become the entrance to the Knapp Ville or hanging Knapp Ville. It was like that the gate was an invisible inverse mirror and as I walked out of door I entered again to Knapp to my surprise Ville. I looked around to find some window or any other exit to get out of here but my every try was a waste, there was no means out of here.

My senses froze, I knew I was stuck, something was definitely wrong and there was no way out. I have to fight the evil, might be my love too, to protect myself, to save myself, though I was nothing more than a pregnable skull that can hardly protect herself. I don't know how I will but I have to but my heart believed in the serenity of those beautiful eyes, as I was sure that he was undefiled, he knew nothing about this havoc. I folded my hand over the cross hanging in my neck....and at the same minute I heard someone crying. I moved in the direction of the voice toward the small room beside the kitchen. I grabbed a huge knife though I doubted if it could really protect me, dragging myself slowly towards my mausoleum. I held my breath grabbed the old rusted knob and tried to turn it with a little force, the deadly door opened with a little cut on my index finger and blood oozing out screaming a goodbye. The terror chills piercing through my flesh were burning me and have enhanced my senses to their extreme. I knew this would be my last day but I wanted to fight, I knew no one will mourn my death may be Sylvie if she ever knew, but I was a fighter and before getting pounded under some commuter's shoe I wanted to fight, for my every breath before the Om over my head vanishes into void, before I becomes nothing I will fight and complacencing myself I moved ahead.

I entered the room, a girl with long hairs scattered all around her face was sitting in the corner facing the wall and crying like she was lost.

"Hello mam! Who are you? Are you fine??" I asked stammering.

There was no movement, I waited for a while then when I almost turned she grabbed me hard with her right hand in less than one tenth of a second. She was holding something like a skull in her left hand, her face was different, a upside down face, a chin in place of forehead, complete black eyes without any pupil, nothing just a black hole, lips syncing like a devil, rugged clothes or she was an avatar of devil. She screamed staring at me "You Are the One....You Are the One" and threw that eerie skull on my chest and not to my surprise the skull dissolved in me and the martyr eloped like she was never there.

I took a few steps back, have almost slipped but grabbed the cupboard and accidently opened it accidently. There was a book and a beautiful crystal in it. My eyes got stucked on the book cover which had my picture pale, thin, bleeding and a lot of skulls shelved in my body and below it was written – "INCARNATION OF SKULLS-THE POWER BEHOLD".I could not believe if it was even possible, but I think by now I should be used to believe the impossible. I started examining the crystal it was beautiful, antique and eerie like every other thing in Knapp Ville and somehow it just slipped out of my hand as if it wanted to be free knocking the floor in a beautiful tone and it opened. All I can see was a lot of foggy mist covering the room and I felt like I should be ready for one more shock. Though I was putting my courageous mask feared of nothing but deep down underneath all this I was falling, terrorized by this sudden attack of horror, my heart was roaring like a jet propeller praying for all this to fade and elope like a dream but sometimes reality is more fascinating and flimsy than our weirdest imagination. I laughed at myself how much a single day has changed me, I would have never thought about life so hard, how these sudden acquaintances with horror have broadened my mind and deepened my thinking and surely there was much more to come.

(4)

As the fog disappeared the most deadly beast par my most avid or bizzarest imagination was standing right in front of me, staring at me piercing his bloody perilous eyes unto me to drain every single drop of life flowing inside of me. He grabbed my neck took me to the corner of the room and pounded me on the ground like I was nothing but a wrinkled sheet that could be blown like a feather. He started searching the room fiercely, looking for something burning in anger and I taking advantage of his occupancy and ignorance fastened over the knife in my hand and stabbed him in his back as hard as I could. I was trembling with the sight of blood all over my face, on my hairs, everywhere on me but somehow I gathered myself and ran out of the room as fast as I could locking it behind me. I took a deep breath, I knew I might have hurt that monster but surely have not killed him and in a little while he will break this mere wooden door and come for me.Tears started flooding from my eyes, I wanted to stop all this and return to my normal life but I could not be helped no one could take me out of this menace, as I was the one who wanted this adventure, it was my decision, I took that turn, else I would have been at my home, but might be all this was written, that book already knew that I would be coming someday but those skull, I knew nothing about them or the martyr's message. I pounded hard but I was unable to solve the mystery of those skulls but I knew they were somewhere in Knapp Ville.

The monster started slamming the door fiercely and shouting in his precarious voice" SPUNE – MI UNDE CRANII SUNT SI EU NU TEAR PRODUCE NICI UN RAU. PROMIT!! GIVE ME SKULL"

Oh my good lord! This monster was behind the skull and I really did not know where those skulls were and if I will not give him the skull he will come for me! The door was about to break I started running but I did not knew where should I go. I went to the kitchen to grab another knife and moved toward the stairs and the beast has broken the door and was coming for me I slided back saying "I really don't know where the skulls are. Please! Please leave me!" I was laughing on ma helplessness that I have pray to a devil for life.

Someone holded me from my back, I looked back shaking intensely lying in the arms of my death but for my relief for the first time in this whole day it was Enif, my beautiful sweet and serene lover Enif. Consumed by the fear of the approaching death I embraced him tightly and started crying. He looked into my eyes kissed on my cheek and murmured in my ear "Do not worry lover! I am here." Enif jumped upon the monster across the hall grabbed his neck and pounded him to the floor breaking the marble underneath and licking the blood spilled all around he said "so Silas you are back!!"

Silas laughed and said "no matter how much you try, I cannot stay away from you brother"

(5)

Enif and Silas were brothers!! My divine lover was brother of a devil. He knew about all this!! I think this day has too many surprises or shocks stored for me, much much more than I could handle.

"Without wasting any moment lets directly come to the point brother. Where are the skulls Enif? Give them to me and you can continue with your meat loaf or we can both enjoy her" Silas said pointing towards me.

"Stay away from her she has nothing to do with it" Enif snarled angrily.

"Ohh!! So my little brother is in love! Not bad" Silas laughed edging his eyes.

"You know pretty well that nobody has ever seen the skulls in ages and if somehow I had then don't you think I would not be here anymore" Enif said wickedly.

"It's here brother! All of them! Can't you feel their ultimate power, the strength flowing through us? Silas replied.

They started speaking some other language may be Greek or Romanian of which I could not understand a single word. I was waiting for them clueless, to decide my fate.

Finally they ensconced, Silas moved toward the library and Enif turned towards me and said that he will be back in a while and followed his brother. Enif looked back and eyed something but impossible for me to understand anything, though I was still questioning myself should I trust Enif anymore but I did not have any other option.

I sat on the stairs thinking what was happening and why was I involved in all this. I regretted for being so daring to walk into my death. Would I have gone straight to my home, I might have been enjoying a cup of hot chocolate with Sylvie. But things were different now; I thought I should find the skull and give it to Silas and I might be everything goes back to normal.

Suddenly I remembered the book I have seen in the cupboard, I ran into the room and grabbed the crystal and the book from the floor.

I started reading the book "INCARNATIONOF SKULLS - THE POWER BEHOLD".

I had a strong feeling that this book had all the answers I needed to know. I started going through the pages as faster as I could. And I was right the book told me everything I needed to know, I was awestruck, in a dilemma, what should I do? I had my answers not all but enough to understand why I was stuck here, why Silas was here and why Enif had left me here alone on my own.

I know what I have to do now. I grabbed the crystal coated it with Silas spilled blood rushed to Enif's room and started searching for some pieces of mirrors and the herbs. It was taking more time than I thought. It occurred to me that I should try sliding this cupboard, and behind that cupboard was the box I needed holded by a dead body. I gripped the knife tightly to avoid any further mishappening and moved toward the box. I tried to pull the box with my free hand and the dead attacked me and I did the only thing I can I pushed the knife into his chest paralyzing him but I was late. I had lost my hand, he tore ma hand away from my body, blood dripping through my veins. I dropped the knife and pulled the box. I bounded Enif's shirt around my arm. I was crying but surely not cause of this endless pain, it does not mattered anymore, I would never get my hand back. I holded the crystal filled with the essentials out of the box and walked toward the library.

Silas rotated his head 1800 and stared at me, smiling wickedly he said to Enif "your girl is here ... but without her hand."

Enif hurried toward me but was stopped by Silas who eyed him and said "not now". Enif signaled me to sit by the shelf five and I followed his instructions. Silas walked toward shelf five and started his search but his eyes fixed on me inspecting me from head to toe.

"What happened to your hand" he asked.

"Became the victim of your strength" I answered confidently.

"Well! Well! Well! Looks like your little girl is conspiring against us brother."

All of a sudden Silas holded my wounded arm with all of his strength causing me further pain. But I was ready and properly arrayed for a little action after all this, I threw the crystal towards Enif screaming "catch it" holding myself.

Enif fast as light grabbed the crystal and pierced it through Silas chest but Silas was much faster. He grabbed Enif's hand and was willing to kill him as soon as he can.

I pounded on the floor screaming with pain watching my love getting beaten badly by the monster lying like a useless waif. My every effort was objected and so was I. the crystal was lying there on floor useless, I grabbed it and looked at it all around, then looked at my handless arm the dead body in the cupboard has eaten and then towards two fighting demons abominately. Suddenly the rush of terror, the infinite pain, the hatred of being pregnable and the negligence gave the power to stand and confront and I stabbed the crystal in that sly Silas's heart baffling him and he was gone with the fog. Enif was still staring at me in disbelief. Today I have watched the extreme side of me and understood the true meaning of Phileo and Storge. I laughed and fell to the floor closing my eyes.

(6)

I don't know for how much time I have been in coma but when I woke up I found Enif had nursed my wound and was sitting beside my dwindled body after ensconcing me on the bed. He was looking into my eyes with deep remorse, like everything was his fault. He was abhorrencing himself for everything.

"Elyom you now know that I am a murky waif demon, who does not deserve to be loved, who seduces women, rapes them, feed on them and kill them. I did the same with you. Your attraction for me, the way you feel for me is a delusion. Nothing you believe is true, your love for me is not real; that is what incubus does, they hypnotize you making you hallucinate that you are in love. But do not believe in these delusions. I would have killed you, sucked life out of you, like I did with five hundred and sixteen other girls and had freed myself without any hesitation..."

"But you did not" I murmured.

"I am an INCUBUS. I am not good. I am a demon. Why don't you understand?"

"You knew about the skull but still..."

"Yeah I knew that you are the incarnation of those skulls. You have the extreme power that demons like me die for, if I sacrificed you I can own all that power, that was what Silas wanted, but your love has incapacitated me as if I could never hurt you, as if you are the one. But fate! We could never be together only one of us could exist so..."

"So I would die and you will be free!" I decided to die for my love and found myself laughing. Somehow the idea of dying does not frighten me anymore. Even my life was not worth for anyone so if my death could benefit my angel than I would die for a thousand times.

"It is not going to be so easy lover you will suffer to your extreme limits and I will never let you suffer, not anymore. I do not belong in your life. I have to go, I have to leave."

He walked out of his room and came back after a while with a small mirror I was looking into just before when I met him for the first time. It would not have been even 24 hours but he had made me fell into his Agapao love.

I don't know how I can stop him. I don't want his thirsty soul to wander forever feeling guilty and damned. I wanted him to be happy and free, to live his life happily but happiness is just not showered it is conquered with utmost tries.

He handed me the mirror and said look into it and everything will be fine and whatever happens always remember I have always loved you and I always will. Whenever you will look into this you will find my love and he kissed me passionately with his rose red lips filling my mouth with the elixir of true love. I intertwined his hand into mine making and said "I Love You Enif" and he kissed my cheeks saying"Oh! Lover look into the mirror now" Though I was waspish but I obeyed him like a puppet dancing on his master's order, like I was hypnotized, like I don't have any free will and that was the last time I saw him.

(7)

I opened my eyes to find myself in his room but he was not here and I knew he was never coming back. These thirsty eyes will never have the pleasure to see him again. My craving lips would never be able to feel his sweet taste again. I squeezed the sheets in angst and tears started flooding all over my face hoping that someday everything will make perfect sense.

I was burning in the intensity of our love. I could never forget him or our irrevocable unconditional eternal love. It was not his fault I could never blame him for anything but for leaving me alone on my own. I just hope I would have the pleasure the utmost dignity to be perished in saving his soul. It does not matter what he was his soul was pure and divine like his heart worth saving no matter if its cost was thousands of murky hollow souls like me. I felt like a doleful afflicted loathly piece of mass that couldn't save her lover. I was a cheater my love was evincible powerless hollow just like my soul it couldn't do any good; it eloped escaped ambushed when death cremation of this worthless mundane body came. His love was angelic, celestial, ambrosial, par from mere worldly coming and going. He saved my useless body but he took away my heart ma soul with him forever. I know I could never see him again but I could feel him all over me, playing strings of my soul and my heart dancing to the enchanted tunes of his vrai love lost in his celestial beauty and he was penetrating me deep inside not just my body but my heart my soul he was dissolved inside me diffused into my soul; we were one for ever now.

In the past 24 hours I have learned the true meaning of love. Love is eternal madness erupts like infinite volcanoes shaking our soul like fourteen richer scale earthquake; our roots entwined together that it became inconceivable to ever apart.

I was always tempted with the idea of being in love wanted to feel amalgation of indispensable passion, the breathlessness of being intoxicated, making several promises, fighting and teasing, exchanging lots of gift, being pampered loving the indescribable excitement, the longing but now I know this fascination is not love. Love is when all the blossoms fall when we are burned and broken, damned and secluded left alone to face, to fight and to breathe, to live, to laugh, to wait for the other and to perpetuate our love forever.

You dictated my love, my decision, and my feelings. It feels like far more you were well rehearsed for all of this. What else is there to say but we found love in a hopeless place and to own it "Someone Has To Pay".

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The journal dropped off my hand. I was completely lost inside the life of Elyom and mesmerized by Enif. Elyom had lived every shade of love-

Phileo- The Immense Affection

Storge- The Real Friendship

Eros- The Most Sensual and Passionate Physical Love

Agapao- The True and Most Powerful Love

I was thinking about the last words of Elyom and Enif "Someone has to pay". I wanted to see them together loving each other, totally consumed; intoxicated but life is not a fairy tale, someone always have to pay. But I was not sure who payed more Enif who was damned forever or Elyom who lost everything even her soul.

I decided to leave the Ville and never come back. I have never been satisfied with my life; I always wanted more. I wanted to be loved, adored, appraised but all I felt was neglected as if I will always be alone, neglected, abandoned. Today Elyom made me realize far more at the surface of the ocean the drop we keep avoiding we possess it. Loneliness is a bash in itself. I felt complemented, she has illuminated my soul, edificed me with her unconditional love.

I saw something coming out of the journal. I bend and grabbed the life of Elyom lying on the floor. There was a small antique mirror glued at the last page. I took it out carefully. It was beautiful, with something scripted over it in Romanian. I turned the mirror and looked into it; Elyom was totally right it was a real beautiful mirror.

Suddenly I saw a figure so ambrosial, amatory and ensnaring, behind me, walking slowly towards me making me skip my breath. He grabbed my shoulder and my body chilled, started trembling. I was at my edge and knew nothing would ever be same. Knapp Ville was filled with the echoes of my crying heart "someone has to pay" and I was wondering was that someone Me and then the voice of my inevitable death came-

"WHO ARE YOU?"

Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney is an enthusiastic Indian writer, blogger and creative thinker. She has written for several local magazines from the age of 8. She is compiling her paranormal fiction novel which would be published next year. She is also working for some other anthologies. She maintains a blogs to network with her friends and readers about at http://www.speakingtree.in/public/twinklevarshney.

Dove

By Kim Stevens

© 2013 by Kim Stevens

The room was eerily quiet and smelt of dirt. He wasn't sure but he thought he heard scurrying noises coming from the far corner. He pictured rats and cringed. The only other sound he could hear was a faint drip of a tap. It sounded far away, but somehow the soft drip, drip, drip comforted him. It had relaxed him enough to fall asleep, but that was just for a short period of time. He didn't know where he was or how long he had been down here but he had to keep reminding himself to stay awake in case trouble came knocking.

His eyes were covered with a sour smelling cloth and his mouth had been tapped up. His hands were bound tightly behind his back. Every breath he took through his nose made his stomach do death rolls from the sour stench of body odor. He tried to shake his blind-fold off, but that just made his neck sore. He tried to tug it off using the wall he had been propped against but it did nothing in return. He hadn't given up....not entirely.

He had come around during transport. Through squinted eyes he had made out that he was in a van. The walls were painted black and the floor was gunmetal grey. The van's windows had been tinted, giving everything outside a night-time look. He wasn't sure of the time anymore. Reality had given up on him in a split second.

He remembered feeling his clothing being cut off, leaving him dressed in his boxers. He had thanked God that he didn't go commando just before his kidnappers had realized that he was awake. They soon fixed that problem.

When he came round, his entire body felt sluggish. His brain was slow to register and when it finally caught up, an alarm bell suddenly went off. His eyes were seeing only blackness and he couldn't open his mouth. He tried to move his hands, but something cut into his wrists. The only part of him that was free, were his legs. He kicked at nothing, feeling his heels scrape dirt. His chest felt tight as tears stung his eyes. He was screwed...big time.

Before all of this had happened, he had been walking in the park, enjoying the summer day. It was his lunch break. He was an intern making his mark on the world. His dream was to become a lawyer. He had been fascinated with the profession ever since he could remember. Before leaving his apartment his girlfriend, Lauren, had said he looked quiet dashing in the suit he had bought using his very first pay check.

He loosened his tie, which Lauren had given him, when suddenly he felt a sharp pinch in his neck. It felt like a mosquito bite but then suddenly his legs became weak and the park started to slant to one side. He couldn't cry out for help and for some reason no one noticed him falling to the ground. He lay motionless on the grass, sluggishly hoping that his suit didn't have grass stains on them or Lauren would kill him, when he heard footsteps approaching. He opened his mouth, but his voice had escaped him.

Blurry faces towered over him and he thought he had been saved until they yanked him to a standing position and roughly dragged him to an awaiting vehicle. By this time his head was fuzzy and nothing was making sense. He fell unconscious soon after the engine roared to life.

He wasn't sure where he was and that scared the shit out of him. He was strong. Why didn't he fight his attackers? He had been a wrestler in high school. He even had the medals to prove it, but that was useless against whatever drug was injected into him.

Silent sobs shuddered from him as tears finally spilled, only to be soaked up by his blind-fold. He closed his eyes as Lauren's face materialized in the darkness. Her beautiful crystal blue eyes shining out at him, her rose colored pouty lips smiling at him, and her laugh. Oh, the sound made him ache all over. He hoped she was alright. He hated for her to worry about him and he knew she would call their friends and family. Would he be found? He had no clue, but all he wanted was for Lauren to be safe.

The scurrying came closer and he thought he felt hair brush past his left foot. He scooted his legs in so he was cross-legged and silently pleaded for whatever was down here with him to leave him alone. He hated rats with a passion.

A few months back he and Lauren had had a rat problem in their apartment building. He had complained to the manager only for her to shrug and shake her head. She didn't understand him and he didn't have the patience to mime every word to her. The language barrier wasn't helping either. When he turned to go he swore she had said 'rats' but he just kept going, quietly seething.

Going back to the apartment he saw Lauren standing in the kitchen doorway. She was armed with a broom and a bucket. He knew what was waiting.

"It's a big one, babe." She told him, eyeing the checker board floor. "Stay back."

He smiled, patting her on the butt. "My hero...."

She giggled, but then turned serious when a huge brown rat scurried out from behind the fridge. He didn't mean too but he squealed like a school girl and jumped onto the nearest chair. Lauren only rolled her eyes before charging into the kitchen.

The memory made him smile behind the tape. He loved her and wanted to marry her one day. Hopefully he'd get that wish. His eyelids grew heavy and his body wanted to succumb to sleep, but his head screamed at him to stay awake. He felt like telling the voice to shut the hell up, but then a noise caught his attention. Straining his ears he listened for it again. Yes! It was a door closing. It came from above him. He shuffled around on the dirt straining to hear more. He tried screaming but his words were muffled behind the tape. Using his tongue he tried to push it off of his mouth but it was holding on tight.

His fingers wiggled feeling the restraints around his wrists. No use there, either. It felt like flexi-cuffs. He'd need a good knife or sharp pair of scissors to get those off. He managed to scoot sideways so his left side was touching the wall. It was brick. He could tell from the rough surface plus it had crumbled under his fingertips when he had touched it earlier.

Scraping the side of his head against the sharp edges wasn't smart, but he was desperate. He needed to get his eyes back. After a few failed attempts he was about to give up when suddenly the cloth moved. This gave him hope so he kept at it. After scratching up his face the cloth finally dragged free and hung around his neck like a noose. He could now see.

The room wasn't quite a room. He was surrounded by three brick walls with a gap where the fourth one should be. It was like a stall, but the floor was dirt. There were no windows so he knew he was in a basement. He smelt blood before feeling it trickle down his cheek. He knew he had cut himself pretty badly and would deal with that when he was out of this rat-infested hell hole.

With effort he pushed himself onto his knees and steadied himself when he nearly rolled back onto his butt. He felt giddy while standing and took a few deep breaths to clear his head. Was he about to face his kidnappers? He had no idea what he was going to do and hoped he could sneak away without raising an alarm.

Tiptoeing to the edge of the stall he peeked around the corner to see that there were three other stalls like his. He looked forward to see a set of wooden stairs leading to a door. A door to freedom, one could only hope.

He took a step out into the emptiness and was about to hurry to the stairs when he heard footsteps approaching from above. His body froze. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes saw the door knob jiggle and his heart missed several beats.

The door slowly opened letting in a bright yellow light. It lit his stall up as he settled back down on the dirt. Instinct had quickly set in making him retreat back to where he had started. He hated being so weak and scared. He was a fighter and here he was slinking back to hell.

He felt the blindfold around his neck and knew the kidnappers would notice. He just shrugged, knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

The footsteps thudded down the stairs and headed straight to his stall. He thought about closing his eyes, but something told him to keep them open. 'Don't show that you're weak,' He told himself. 'If this person wants to kill you then make them look you in the eye while they do it.'

He held his gaze at the opening while the person moved closer. He sat up straight and pushed back his shoulders. He was a fighter and he was strong. He was good and no one was going to take him down without a fight.

When a figure transformed out of the darkness his eyes grew wide and his fierce appearance faltered. He knew that body all too well. The face was in shadows but he didn't need to see it to know who it was. His lips moved silently behind the tape and his hands fought to get free from their bindings. He tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly dry.

His brain was deathly silent. It was like his head was just full of air. He shook it but this only made the person laugh. It was different. It was filled with cold hatred and it chilled him down to the bone.

"Well, it looks like you managed to get the blindfold off," the icy voice said. "It doesn't matter though; you won't need it for much longer."

The figure moved forward then he was blinded by a sharp light. It was coming from a flash light. The beam bobbed up and down with each step.

He blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. His blood ran cold when he saw that the figure was now kneeling in front of him, the light illuminating the face. Crystal blue eyes glared at him, full of hatred and danger. His attention was suddenly caught by something in her hands. When he glanced down he stiffened. She was holding a gun to his chest. His eyes raced back to her face, pleading for her to let him go. She just cruelly smiled at him.

"You know why I'm doing this, don't you?" she asked, stroking the edge of the pistol. When he didn't respond she went on. "Let me fill you in. I was madly in love with you. I would have married you on our first date, but I knew that was silly." She smiled lovingly, but it wasn't at him. It was at the gun.

"I told my mum about you and she was so happy. Her little girl settling down with a great guy...." A frown darkened her face. "But you weren't a great guy were you?"

"I saw you...with other girls. The voices told me to keep an eye on you...they said you were playing up behind my back..." she jabbed the gun at him. He tried moving away but the brick wall blocked him in. He was stuck.

"I tried to ignore them....the voices, but they were so loud and so strong. I wanted to be happy with you and start a life....have kids, but I couldn't ignore them. They told me not to trust you." She looked away, swiping at her eyes. He tried to speak but it came out muffled. This made her turn back to him. Holding the gun in one hand she reached toward him. He cringed from her touch as she ripped the tape off.

"Lauren, please....don't do this," he whispered. His throat was dry, but he was scared and he didn't try to hide it.

"We had four wonderful years, didn't we, babe?" she asked so he nodded.

"Yeah we did and we can have many more if you let me go." He kept his eyes locked onto hers. "Please, Dove, I love you. I would never hurt you."

Her cold expression faded at his use of her pet name. "And I love you..." her voice was a whisper. He thought he had gotten through to her, but he was wrong.

"But I can't trust you." She held the gun steadily in her hands. "The voices told me to hurt you like you've hurt me," she shook her head. "I can't trust you anymore."

"Dove, look into my eyes and you'll see I would never hurt you. I can never hurt the woman that I love," his words were rushed. "Please, I want to marry you. I will do anything for you." Tears welled in his eyes. It surprised him that the tears weren't for him, but for Lauren. Even though she was holding a gun inches from his chest he still loved her.

She hesitated then slowly lowered the gun. "Do you really want to marry me?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Bowing her head, Lauren sobbed. He scooted over to her on his butt and pressed his body against hers. He hoped he had just saved his own life.

"Can you untie me?" he asked in a semi-calm voice.

"Yeah," she placed the gun on the dirt in front of them then removed a pair of pliers from a pants pocket. She snipped the flexi-cuffs off his hands then sat, cross-legged, beside him. He glanced at the gun while taking her hands in his.

"Can we invite mum?" she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"To what?" he rubbed his thumb over her fingers.

"To the wedding, silly...."

"Sure. Of course we can. You can invite anyone you want. Where would you like to have it?" he asked, playing her game.

"Um....how about at the park...?"

"Ok, yeah. Sounds really nice," He knew he would never set foot in that park again. He had been drugged and taken from that very park and no one had noticed a damn thing. "Lauren, can I ask you something?"

"Sure babe." She kept her head on his shoulder so he released her hands to rub his wrists.

There was a scurrying sound from behind them and it made his skin crawl.

"Who helped you with this?" he had to be careful not to set her off again. As he watched her carefully he slowly reached forward, picking up the gun.

"My brother," she sat up and looked at him. She was smiling, but it froze on her face when she saw the gun in his hands. "Why do you have that?" she frowned.

Before he could answer, she was pouncing on him. Her full weight knocked him back so he was lying on the dirt. He clung onto the pistol as she clawed at his face.

"Give me the gun!" she sounded like a banshee. "You can't have it!"

He tried to shove her off, but she hung on, gripping his hair in one hand and trying to scratch his eyes out with the other. With all his strength he was useless against her. Maybe the drug hadn't fully worn off yet or maybe she was hyped up on something herself. Whatever the situation he couldn't let her win.

"I can't trust you!" she screamed into his face. "I hate you!"

His hand held the gun between them so he lifted it slightly, aiming at her stomach.

"You may hate me, Dove, but I love you." He whispered before pulling the trigger.

A loud bang echoed through the basement as her body flew off of him landing on the ground in a heap. His stomach was sore from the recoil and a slick of blood covered his skin.

He forced himself to sit up making his whole body ache. He had to get up and find a way out of here. He stumbled to his feet and staggered to the stairs leading to the door that hopefully lead to freedom.

He climbed to the top then pushed the door open. A stifling smell hit him making him bend over and dry wrench. He clamped a hand over his mouth while his eyes searched for the source of the foul smell. He was standing in the kitchen of Lauren's mothers place. He had been here a few times over the course of their relationship and he liked her mum and brother a lot.

He staggered into the dining room and suddenly froze. Sitting at the table were Lauren's mother and brother. They were slumped forward like they had fallen asleep during dinner. But what drew his attention were the huge holes in the backs of their heads. There was blood and brains and shards of bone covering their clothes, the chairs, and the floor. He saw red spray patterns on the white wall-papered walls and knew where they sat was where they were killed.

He couldn't stop himself from puking all over himself. His stomach had been churning and now emptied out all over his bare body and the floor. He raced for the front door and escaped the horror from inside the house. He stumbled down the stairs, landing on his hands and knees. He was taking some deep breaths as a police cruiser sped into the street screeching to a halt at the curb. He felt his body slightly relax as he climbed to his feet, heading towards the police.

"My name is Andrew Mitchell. I was kidnapped....." he got out before collapsing to the ground.

My name is Kim Stevens and I'm a writer from Australia. My first short story, Christmas, was published in an anthology; Angels Among Us, and I hope to add to my collection. I enjoy following my characters and sometimes they surprise even me with their journeys. I just hope readers enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy creating them.

