I have seen the Devil's face

I have seen the devil's face-
The gateway to the soul drenched in darkness-
All black-
Blacker than the soul that was there just before.
A darkness that grew larger and larger in its outward rage.
A hungry beast baring its teeth in its endeavor to quiver your very being-
Your soul
Your essence.
Ah, yes, I have seen the devil's face.
It stood before me telling me tales of becoming a satanist-
An atheist hell bent to tell thee God doesn't exist-
For where is the proof?
A soul drenched in darkness for all they have known is darkness.
An innocent soul that was violated and replaced with something much graver-
Much darker.
I have seen the devil's face.
Glimpses of an empty vessel-
No sign of any chance of a fullfilling life.
- Christina DeFelice 

The truth I hold inside

If all I have is the memory of you then I'm not sure I want it.
I can still feel the excitement of you walking into the kitchen and grabbing my face to kiss me.
Nothing extraordinary about that moment other than a moment of pure undiluted love.
I can still feel the butterflies I get every time you looked at me in that way that you do and how your voice sounds when you tell me you love me.
I can still feel the abrupt nervousness I would get when you spoke about marriage and children.
Oh, how I wanted that life.
I can still see that adorable look you gave me when you hurt your arm and I was taking care of you.
I can feel the absence of you like I'm missing a limb.
I can feel the pain of missing you in every molecule of my being.
You're forever etched into my brain that no amount of shaking will erase.
If all I have is the memory of the grandest love and the grandest loss, then what was it all for?
Am I sorely mistaken on what's transpired?
If so, please come correct me because...
If all I have is the memory of you then I'm not sure I want it.

Suspense Novel Preface

Recently, I've been writing my suspense novel more and more. It's been quite exciting. Here's how I chose to start off my story! I'm very much in love with the preface. I actually love writing them the most; I love throwing everyone right into the action and keeping it vague! =) Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Preface

“NOOO!” She shrieked as she shoved him off her. He stumbled backwards and knocked himself into a table. The lamp fell shattering.  Her face soaked with tears. She ran through the dimly lit halls. She shrieked out again in pain, glass lodged in her foot. She stopped briefly, panting, and pulled the shard of glass out of her foot and continued forward leaving a trail of blood behind her.

Behind her, he stumbled up to his feet and ran after her. She pushed through her pain and ran forward to the door. She turned the knob, jiggled it, it wouldn’t budge. “NOO!” Her shaky hands undid the locks as he plummeted for her. She was able to kick her foot backwards, hitting him in his appendage dropping him to the ground.

It was like a dream, she opened the door and there before her, a rush of freezing air and the ground cascaded with mounds of snow. How long had she been here? She put one foot in front of the other and ran hard, she ran fast. He ran after her, he ran harder, he ran faster. He threw his arms around her, tightly. “HELP!” A foreboding shriek ripped through her like an electrifying volt. Her screams echoed through the cold air. The cold wintery night held her screams like a well-kept secret. The dimly lit house erupted in the night. He dragged her back into the house, slamming the door shut as her screams bellowed into the cold, rural, darkness.

Excerpt #7 and #8 -Short Story-- The Relished Touch

Happy Holidays Everyone!! Here are the next two installations. I hope you're all enjoying the progression of the story.

Links of Story (In order):

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt1-from-short-story-relished-touch.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/hey-so-im-day-late-it-seems.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt-3-and-4-short-story-relished.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/12/excerpt-5-and-6-short-story-relished.html

     

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            He has been living like a caged animal. Tied up, force fed and unable to speak. His drive to live had diminished. A spectacular shot to his vertebrae was all that was needed. Seeming like he was dead, he had laid there for hours; just bleeding and bleeding while the police took their time. He knew he was unimportant to them. He was finally swept away taken to his new home.

              For the long nine years David has wished to die. On several occasions, he should have. He has had heart attacks and multiple organ failures and every time the doctors revive him. He wished he could sign a DNR, he wants this nightmare to end. Man is not supposed to live unable to speak, or move. He cannot control who he meets or whom takes care of him. He cannot ask questions about the new world around him. He must remain ignorant.  He could never go find a companion; someone who shared the same interests as he did. Sure, he’s been in love many times- but everyone has. Let’s face it. Anytime people have a genuine connection to someone they fall in love a little bit. No one will ever admit it though.

              That was the main difference between David and everyone else. He lived in the now. He wasn’t afraid to seize the day. He didn’t confine himself to rules and restrictions. He was completely and utterly inhibited and instinctual, almost primal. He missed the old days where he could live freely. See a pretty girl, schmooze her up, give her a special drink and take her home. Ahh, those were the good ol’ days.

              Shelly, finished taking his blood pressure and lowered the guard rail on the bed. She noticed he was still restrained to the rail so she lifted it back up. She sighed in frustration. “What happened to you?” She knew his eyes were focused on her. She wracked her brain on all the possibilities. Why would they restrain someone who is completely immobile? What is the purpose? Does he have psychiatric history? Was he a violent patient? Is he a criminal? Was he suicidal? She wanted to ask but she found it in bad to taste to ask her mute patient to move his eyeballs to these questions. “I normally make it a point to know who my patients are Mr. Clark. Would you find it rude if I asked?” She asked. What harm could this do? Who’s he going to tell? She looked at David and he moved his eyeballs left to right twice suggesting ‘No, I don’t mind’.

“Were you in the psychiatric ward?” She probed.

David moved his eyeballs once. Yes

 “You were. Okay, Were you suicidal?”

He moved his eyeballs twice. No, dear. Never run from one’s troubles.

“Okay, that’s a good thing… Psychiatric ward. Psychiatric ward. Um, did you have a mental illness?”

No movement. What’s your definition of mental illness, love?

“Okay, I won’t ask that again. Touchy subject I suppose. Did you commit a crime?” She asked with worry.

David moved his eyes once. Yes, I did, love.

Shelly’s pupils dilated as her fear grew. “Robbery?” Her voice was growing smaller.

He moved his eyes twice. No.

She stood up and paced a bit. “I shouldn’t be asking. I’m sorry to intrude. All your meds have been dispensed. It’s time for your rotation. She picked up the remote at the side of the bed. Panic and worry spread across her face like it was the newest lipstick. Some male care givers came in helped her turn him over. She looked down and saw his piercing brown eyes burn right through her. He could sense she wanted to cry, scream, or hide from him- and he loved every minute of it. They began to wheel him out of the room. They wheeled him over to the elevator and awaited its opening. MRI time for Mr. David Clark. Shelly stopped asking questions, she must take care of her patient unabashedly, ignorance is bliss in her opinion. She need not to know more than what he has revealed. They reached the floor and wheeled him to the room with the MRI machine. The doctor was in there already waiting and prepping the area. The male nurses and Shelly transferred the patient, Mr. Clark, onto the MRI bed. The testing began.

Excerpt #5 and #6--Short Story-- The Relished Touch

Heyy!! I know, I'm really bad at my own homework I have assigned to myself. Sorry!!

It seems I have left every hanging for a couple of weeks and have the next two continuations here.

Enjoy!

And as always I will post the links in chronological order if you wanted to catch up.

Links in order:

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt1-from-short-story-relished-touch.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/hey-so-im-day-late-it-seems.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt-3-and-4-short-story-relished.html
     

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              “Mr. Clark, I hope you’re enjoying the view?” She came in delighted and upbeat. She rotated his bed to face the television that she had left on. She pushed various meds through his intravenous line and started his food bag. He rotated his eyes to try to get any chance of a view on her. She looked perplexed as she wrote in his chart. She looked up and smiled a brilliant, white smile. “Hey, you know what. Let’s devise a way of communication. “She said chirpily.

Okay, Shelly. You’re cute and all but seriously? What the fuck am I going to do, wave my eyeballs? If I could scoff I would be scoffing right now.

              “Okay, since all that seems to move is your eyes, I’ll ask basic questions and you can move them left to right once for yes’ and twice for no’s. It’s not much of a system but it might make you a little more comfortable. “She thought this was very clever and since she has picked up from others conversation and comments no one has acknowledged this man in years. They were afraid of him and perturbed by him.

Fine, but I want you to scratch every inch of me. I’m itchy. I’ve been itchy for nine years. Scratch me, damn it! Shower time does not cut it. Also, put on ID Discovery Channel. I want to watch that. You put this foofy crap on. Adam Sandler is not funny. How is golf and hockey alike? It’s not. Something about Shelly made him want to air all his complaints. He saw her as a way to meet death in peace. She flipped through his chart again and was concentrating.

“Hmm, so let’s see. Are you in a lot of pain?” Shelly asked with grave concern.

Shelly, ask me if I’m itchy. Please. He moved his eyes back and forth twice.

She let out a sigh of relief. “Good. The meds are helping you then.”  As she was thinking of her next question she scratched her hand. She was scratching and scratching. Then she stopped and looked at David with a coy smile. “Mr. Clark, are you itchy?” If his eyeballs could have exploded with excitement, they would have when he heard her question. He tried to contain his eyeballs and focused very hard on moving them once. She smiled. “Okay, now to find out where. Nose?” He moved his eyes once. She leaned over and scratched his nose and he relished in every moment of it. She stopped and then stood up. She took a stethoscope and blood pressure band and began check his blood pressure. She jotted in his chart again. “You’re being set for your quarterly MRI of your spine in a couple of hours. The doctor doesn’t think they’ll be much difference but you never can tell how someone’s body will heal. In this field, you quickly learn it’s not the same, healing wise, for everyone.” She sounded optimistic for him. He could tell she hoped for some improvement, even if it was just so he can move his neck and maybe talk.

Scratch me again, please. His mind pleaded. He wanted to sing, he wanted to laugh. He was in a tomb of fixed silence. His enemies had provided the most precise shot that landed him in this now useless casing of a body. And all he wanted in this very moment was to be scratched. Hell, he wanted to feel a human touch.           

Excerpt #3 and #4 - Short Story- The Relished Touch

Hey Guys, I missed last weeks post and I'm a day late with this weeks. I have formed it into a longer post of the next few paragraphs from the short story. I hope you're all enjoying the read as the story develops and unravels.


Links in order:

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt1-from-short-story-relished-touch.html

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/hey-so-im-day-late-it-seems.html

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“Okay, cool. Thanks. Oh, why won’t anyone talk about what happened with 348?” She asked. Curiosity rung through her voice. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me.” He heard after a few minutes.

              A short, smiling, bright eyed blonde came bustling through the door. “Why, good morning to you, sir. How are we doing today, huh? Let me just check your chart for a name.” She picked up the chart and skimmed through the pages and nodded along. She was wearing blue scrubs with a pink printed sweater.

“Mr. David Clark, nice to meet you. It says here you have sustained severe injury to your spine. Gun shot. However, it does not say why and no one seems to want to tell me. I guess it’s in the past, right? No longer matters. Any-who, my name is Shelly Sprie. I’ll be taking good care of you from here on out. I wanted to introduce myself before I came back to give you your nine o’clock meds. In the meantime, let me push your bed facing the window instead of away. It’s such a beautiful day; I wouldn’t want you to miss it. And I’ll also put the television on for you okay. If you need anything let me- Oops, I’m sorry Mr. Clark. Mind slip. See you soon. Enjoy the view.” She scattered out of the room.

              He found her optimism endearing. For a, brief, moment, he didn’t feel as though dying would be better than this. He had someone speaking directly to him. Even her little slip up, about asking for something, he found adorable. David was very happy that this was his new care taker. So, eager, so full of life. For the first time in years he could not wait for his pain killers, anti-depressants, stool softners, vitamins, food, bag changes, other meds that he forgot what they were for, or any of that, for the sole purpose that someone would be coming to speak to him. She pushed his bed to the window. He was so happy to see that the grass was green. He watched as care takers took breaks, doctors took calls, and guards stand tall. His favorite was looking at the tree beyond the fences. It was a beautiful Maple tree. It sat there beautifully under the wonderfully bright sky. What a day today will turn out to be.

              He slipped into his imaginary place where he was free in his mind. He ran out of this room so he can run up that hill and lay under the tree. What a blessed thought that would be. What a simple dream for a man to have. He sat there wondering if what she has done was cruel. He is teased and taunted by the wanting of being free. He was beginning to have mixed feelings about this. It was a very kind gesture; however, on the other hand it’s a beautiful torture. A final glimpse before death I suppose.

              After an hour of staring at the same tree he grew to hate that tree. It was taunting him. Look at you, just sitting there, waving around in the wind like you’re something special. Well, guess what? You’re not. No one cares about you. You’re nothing….. J-just like me. His words hung there in his mind. He wished to be treated like a human. He felt so isolated, alone. He felt empty inside with an all-consuming amount of loneliness. He looked back at the tree. I’m sorry tree. I’m jealous, okay. You’re out there doing tree things, waving around and you’re rubbing it in my face. It pisses me off. I’m going to haunt you when I’m dead. David fought with that tree inside his mind until Shelly returned. Then he focused on her.

Excerpt #2 -- Short Story-- The Relished Touch

Hey! So, I'm a day late it seems. It's time for the continuation of the short story! Who's excited? I am. If you didn't read the first post I will post a link to copy and paste, or you can scroll through the selections to the right of the blog. Enjoy!!

http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/2016/11/excerpt1-from-short-story-relished-touch.html

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Instead he stares at four blue walls. The walls used to be gray, he liked this color much better; he found it to be soothing, in only a way a man like himself would. He hears all the latest gossip among his care takers, their excitement, disdain, all their hopes and dreams. His previous care taker, Monica, complained about him so much that she was finally switched on her rotations. He apparently scared her. Her level of discomfort grew over the months and she complained until her staffing manager had had enough.

He has heard amongst the gossip that some new girl was starting today. She’s apparently in way over her head and doesn’t know what she’s in for. He cannot wait to meet this one. Usually, the new ones break after eight months in a place this. Everything they have to see and endure isn’t something they can be trained for. They have to gain experience and ride out their rookie years like everyone else. Monica, she was veteran. This surprised him; she of all people should’ve been able to handle this amount of a “workload”.  He thinks his stares and restraints are what truly scared her. He has eyes that are screaming a million words that will never be spoken; words that will never pass his lips.

He could hear outside his room; as the door is always open, a chipper voice ringing loud through the air. “Which room is it?” her voice almost sings.

“348.” Another voice. Another woman. She sounds bored of her job; the way only a veteran in this world would.

Excerpt#1 from Short Story- The Relished Touch

Good morning, I think for the next foreseeable Sundays I am going to post continuous excerpts to a short story I wrote based off a criteria challenge my friend and I gave one another. I find some hilarity in it, then again I am the one who wrote it. I will post links to copy and paste as well, in chronological order, so you can follow along with the story as it develops in case you happen to miss a sunday. It's a similar idea as to the Six Sentence Sunday I was part taking in several years ago with the exception I'll most likely post 2-3 paragraphs as opposed to six sentences. Enjoy the read, this is one of my favorites!

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The Relished Touch

Every day starts the same. He wakes up from his long slumber and watches life move forward as his simply stays still. Sure there are some that scurry away from him, who wants to talk to the immobile mute? Life is agony for him. There are days he even wishes for death; sure he cherishes all the fond memories of the life he once had. Those were the best days of his life until his incident.

It has been many years since the incident. He now resides in the care of others; primarily people who don’t care whether he lives or dies. He is just a room number to them, a burden to their workload and the heftiness in their day. Everything must be done for him. Catheter changes, colostomy bag changes, showers, he must be flipped every few hours to prevent bed sores, all while being restrained to the bed railings. What is it that they still feared after so many years, that his mobility would return? That his spine would simply heal?

He often craves to stand up and walk to the window. To just see how the world has changed, evolved. He yearns to speak and yell. Flex his now motionless muscles. The mere things he took for granted like his morning jogs he used to loathe; he now wishes for. The chit chat of idle conversation that he tried to avoid at all costs he now wishes he could join in on. So much of life he has taken for granted. He longed to take a mid day stroll in the spring, smell the freshly cut grass, gaze at all the life that sprouts from the ground and makes life colorful.

Novel #1 Preface (Entirety)

Hey guys! So, I decided to do something special. I wanted to post a lengthier post. With the help of a friend of mine, I picked my very first novel and the very first chapter. This is the novel that started my love of writing when I was 17years old. It's in need of a major rework but it still has its very own story to tell. The title is also being rethought; currently it's 'Bittersweet Moments'

I also plan on posting excerpts from short stories as well, giving you all a taste of writing styles within different genres. Enjoy and keep an eye out for the posts!! =) Feel free to leave your comments below as well!

Below is a link to the Preface of the novel I am currently focusing on. It's a horror novel that I am partial to! Love the intro!
http://sleeplesscomposer.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2015-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2016-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=27

Preface

The thought of killing another person never crossed my mind. The idea of harming another person made me cringe; it was inconceivable to even imagine. All that is running through my head now is how I could get out of this situation. Do I stop running for my life and just forfeit it? Do I keep running until I hit safety? Or do I try to kill my attacker?

I have never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. As I’m running my mind is racing, I didn’t even notice that I was crying and shaking. No one is around. Where is everyone? Why is this happening? Why me? The irony of this was I knew why.

As I’m running, harder than anyone has ever run before, I realized that I wasn’t getting out of this predicament without a fight. One may be enticed by the idea of a fight. One may even give up and try to hide. I on the other hand had no idea as to what I was going to do.

I was so frazzled. I kept thinking about the things I was about to lose. Those things kept me going, to save my life. I had to; I’m not a quitter; why would I give up now? Others may become weakened by the problem or feel helpless, but it only strengthened me.

           If I gave up I would be leaving behind my dad, my brother, my friends, Jeffrey and Clarisse even Tanya. These are the five people I loved the most and I couldn’t and wouldn’t leave them, not yet. It’s them I’m running towards. After this past year, I deserved a little happiness. Quitting isn’t the answer. What do I do?           

            Breathlessly running I came to a sudden halt. I saw an alley ahead of me, it was dark. I ran into the alley and hid behind some trash cans. There was a slight opening. I crouched down and peeped through the opening. There was certain serenity about this moment. It was unbelievable and remarkable that in this particular moment- I felt safe.

As I’m kneeling behind the trash cans I observed my surroundings. I must have passed at least a dozen alleys and I clearly picked the darkest one I could find. On the left of the brick building wall was a dim lantern light. It barely gave off any sort of light, but it was enough to see. There were big water puddles everywhere. Against the building on the left were a couple of dumpsters, adjacent to them were empty cardboard boxes and a very big pile of metal pipes. Some of the pipes were very long and some short, others were thicker while some were thin.

The alley was long and dark; it resembled something out of a scary movie. There was water dripping from the fire escapes. It was dark and the wind seemed to echo. Along with the buildings on the left and right of me were fire escapes; There wasn’t a trace of light emerging from anywhere. Broken glass grounded my feet. The broken glass came from several of the windows on the building. They were probably old apartment buildings.

Someone’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt for about a minute. Then they began again and grew louder with each step. Tip tap, tip tap. The footsteps were slow and it was the most terrifying sound anyone could hear in this moment. They stopped. He walked across the alley and bent down. Some metal clinked and clanked. He picked up a very big metal pipe, and then he slowly stood up straight and proceeded to walk slowly toward me. Tip tap, tip tap.

I glanced down at the gun I was holding and started to think. Do I have it in me? This man was about to beat me to death. It was an obvious decision, but I was shaking so badly my heart felt like it was about to rip through my chest. It was so loud I thought he heard it. I watched through the trashcans and saw him walking slowly towards me. How does he know I came down this alley? I passed at least a dozen of them. He was about a hundred feet away from me.

His face was so visible to me; his piercing blue eyes were wild. His stature looked increasingly larger than normal. He had the ugliest grin on his face. His mouth was curled into an evil concocted smile. It was the face of a killer and I knew my number was up. The feeling of safety quickly dissipated. He walked about another fifty feet and stopped by the empty cardboard boxes alongside the dumpster. He then began twirling and spinning the metal pipe. His muscular arms did it quickly and violently.

He stopped and smiled like an animal about to attack its prey. He tilted his head and looked in my direction. Oh no, he sees me. That’s all I could think. He laughed a low giggle and stepped back. This gesture confused me. Why is he backing up? Does he think I’m still running? What is he doing? He’s playing mind games I know it; he’s trying to scare me. I was trying to rationalize with myself.

“Oh Annie, you’re quite the runner” my attacker said and he continued to speak.

“Why don’t you save yourself the agonizing minutes of torture of whether I’m going to find you or not, and just come out? I know that you know I am going to find you.” He said very confidently.

What do I do? Should I try to bolt? Do I stay here? Do I force myself to shoot him? Do I come out and try to reason, if I do will he listen? Questioning myself wasn’t making me feel much better and it certainly wasn’t helping. I have to kill him. It was the only way. I looked up and he was at least ten feet closer. My heart stopped and I clenched the gun harder. My hands were so sweaty and clammy. He shook his head disapprovingly and took a few steps towards me.

Suddenly, I jumped up. It was a reflex reaction. We were in visual range of one another. I looked at him and saw the surprise in his face. Maybe he didn’t know where I was and he was bluffing. He looks too surprised. His smile returned. It occurred to me that I just handed myself to him on a silver platter. He took a few more steps towards me. His pace was much quicker; it was like a jogger about to jet off. Then I drew the gun and pointed it violently and sternly towards him. He stopped for one moment and one moment only. He looked at me with delighted surprise. I eased a little and then suddenly he lunged at me.

You taste like peace with a hint of devastation.
You sound like innocence on top of your cruelty.
The kindness is a façade while the devil dwells within-
Roaming your halls like an old friend who feels welcomed.
Tearing down whatever walls of goodness are left,
Ensuring your body and soul are encased in a hell of its own.
A hell where destruction is all you know, while you smile radiantly,
Speak with your silk tongue and soothing voice,
Until it's too late to finally meet the devil behind the mask.

I see the couple sitting there,
In silence-
They only speak up when yelling.
Yet, they hold hands and spend bounds of time with one another.
Is that what love is,
Or do you whisper sweet nothings to one another before you close your eyes.
Do you ever tell one another how much you adore one another,
Or is it simply that the nightly embrace is comfort enough to reassure a love long lost?

There was once a man who loved a woman more than his own life and she loved him just the same. One day a merchant from an unknown village visits their ground and he for selfish reasons fell for her too. Though she did not feel the same, she feared the merchant.

The merchant threatened the one she loved, if she did not swear to be his. She reluctantly agreed, she cried for her love, tearing her soul in two while tearing his apart.

For months they lived without one another. Until, one day they could bare it no more. Thus, began their own love affair. Everyday was a beautiful rejoice, no matter how brief.

Until one unfaithful evening the merchant grew suspicious and followed her. He caught them in an embrace and revealed himself as the evil sorcerer he truly was. In a fit of rage he banished his beloved prize and turned her into the night skies moon. He turned the man he envied into a lone wolf to roam the land.

The evil merchant has finished his business and moved onto the next village. Meanwhile, here, every evening the wolf cries out to the moon. Looking and crying out to his love; shining bright and beautiful in the sky above, never able to touch her again.

Dreams are meant to be a world of escape
A world that releases you from your daily torment-
A world where, even for a little while,
You can be anywhere and do anything.
My dreams are not sweet escapes
Rather a world where the torment only follows
I bare the pain and betrayal in my consciousness
I face it in my sleep-
A place that's supposed to be nothing but sweet release,
Has become twisted and doomed.
How am I supposed to move on when you haunt my dreams with the very lies I've discovered?
I see the truth in my dreams,
I feel my heart ache for you,
Even in my dreams you're no longer mine.

The cool wind effortlessly moves about with whimsical delicacy.
Forcing the cascading leaves to dance through the air with beauty and grace.
The cool wind turns frigid,
Turning the cool breezes into sensations of frozen knives.
The dancing leaves no longer whimsical
Rather,
Panicked and fleeing from the inevitable seasons turn.
A once calm, vibrant, colorful forest,
Temporarily turned, dark, hallow, and harsh
Undoubtedly awaiting the next seasons turn.

First Chapter

---I've posted this before, it's the preface to the novel I'm still writing. I edited the preface to my liking and it is a favorite of mine. It was definitely fun to write. I'm posting it again. I added to it a bit, tweaked it a bit, and will probably again because I'm sure I missed something somewhere. Enjoy, hopefully it's an intriguing read for you. --- Christina DeFelice--

Preface

            Walking down the hall, little Amelia was searching. It was way passed her bedtime and she knew she wasn’t allowed to be snooping around; especially, this late into the night. She was careful to tip toe passed her parents’ room adjacent to hers. She brushed her long blonde hair out of her face. A noise. She froze in the hall, standing ever so still. Not breathing, waiting to hear the noise again she squeezed the old brown bunny in her arms tight. Its long ears touching her arms. His name was Floppy, because of his long floppy ears; at least that was her reasoning.

            The noise happened again, it sounded like rattling in the kitchen. Little Amelia not knowing any better, slowly walked down the dark hallway towards the kitchen. She stepped in and turned on the light. She saw nothing. There was nothing in the kitchen. She ran through the kitchen with Floppy wrapped in her left arm as she searched the cabinets. She was certain she most definitely heard a noise. She opened each cabinet within her reach, rummaging for any sign of a presence.

            After about fifteen minutes of her searching someone walked into the kitchen. She turned around and saw her father leaning on the door panel with his arms crossed. “Amelia, it is three-forty five in the morning. What are you doing?” He was tired and a bit surprised to see his six year old daughter rummaging through the kitchen cabinets so late into the night. She just looked at her father guiltily and brushed her hair out of her face; revealing her bright blue eyes filled with apathy. “Okay, let’s get you back into bed.” He held out his hand and she quickly grabbed it. He walked her down the hall and made a right into her room.

            Amelia climbed into her bed doused in pink covers and sheets. She stared at her father with her big blue eyes. He kissed her on her forehead and began to walk towards the door. “Daddy, I heard a noise in the kitchen. I think he was hungry, but I couldn’t find him.” He turned around intrigued by her response and took a look at her sweet little face. It was her serious face, his eyebrows furrowed and he sat on the edge of her bed. “Who was in the kitchen?” He asked concerned. He knew she only whipped out that expression when she wanted to be taken seriously. He knew, despite the time he needed to ask her who she was referring to. Not because he felt there was someone lurking in their house, not because he felt she may have wanted to stay up because of a bad dream, but because her look of seriousness and concern alerted him.

“The man, I don’t know his name. He won’t tell me. No one else can see him. “

“Well, what does this man look like?” He asked trying to sound unconcerned.

“Like a shadow. I mean, he doesn’t look like you, or me, he’s kind of blacked out like how a ginger bread cookie man looks.”

He smiled at her description with a light chuckle. The image of a ginger bread cookie quickly made an appearance in his mind. He tried picturing this in his head; he knew this wasn’t an imaginary friend because she did not have a name or a proper description. Isn’t that the key with imaginary friends; you make up what you want in a friend? But this, this is completely new territory. Maybe it’s because the world has become quite paranormal but he started to panic in his mind and didn’t know what to do or how to respond. A man who looks like a ginger bread cookie? It was probably a movie she watched or a dream she had had. “Ginger bread man huh? Do you and he talk often, honey?” He tickled her a little bit and she giggled.

“No, only nights when he wants to.” She said playing with Floppy’s ear. Something in her face looked timid. He searched her face trying to read her expression but he couldn’t. She was quite unexpressive for a young child.  This also gravely concerned him; she had little to no expressions. She smiled only when provoked to, she didn’t show any kind of emotions usually. She had a dark aura about her. Even though she was only six, she liked to spend her days playing with Floppy, or with dolls. Never with any of the other children who are in her age group. She did however like her little sister. She’s only two but she is enamored with her.

“Are you afraid of him? Does he make you want to run away?” How else was he to phrase this?

            She raised her face from the bunny and shook her head. But, something in her eyes said something other than what the shake was meant to say. He smiled reassuringly, “Okay, well, it’s time to go to sleep. You have school in a few hours. I’ll leave the light on for you, incase you get scared. Me and mommy, are right in the next room if you need us, okay?” She smiled and nodded, then reached over and hugged him. He kissed her on the forehead and stood up from the edge of the bed. “Daddy?” He heard Amelia call; he turned and her expression was sorrowful. “Yes, pumpkin?”

“I love you, daddy.”

            This sent chills up his spine. He knew it shouldn’t have because it was his daughter. She looked too sad. “I love you too, try to get some sleep. You are safe with us. Goodnight.” He closed the door and looked down the hall. What could she be seeing? He shook his head and went to the kitchen. He closed all the cabinet doors. Before turning out the light he did one last sweep of the room; quickly scanning for anything out of the ordinary. He then walked quickly and swiftly down the hall, passed Amelia’s room and went into his bedroom and turned on the light; he walked straight to the closet to his left and against the back wall. He heard the mumbling complaints from his sleeping wife. “Seriously? It’s like four-thirty in the morning, babe.” She put a pillow over her head. Normally, he would apologize quickly because he would do this without realizing, but tonight nothing followed her remark. He went into the closet and pulled out the small safety deposit box.

 She sat up in the bed clearly unhappy. After rubbing her eyes, she began to take in the situation. She looked at the box and began to panic. He placed the box on the edge of their bed. He took out the key he had in his nightstand draw. He placed it in the lock, turned the key and opened it, “What are you doing, Marvin?” Panic shrieked in her voice.

“Amelia is seeing shadows. But, incase it’s more than a shadow I want to be prepared.” He pulled out the black gun and held it in his hand. Then he pulled out the box of bullets and began to load the weapon. His wife’s eyes grew in fear. He swore to her he’d never need it and now he’s loading it in front of her.

“Shadows? Babe, if she is seeing a shadow do you think shooting it will get you anywhere? It could be nothing; you know they said on TV the other day, that most kids before the age of seven see ghosts. Let’s not make this into something it’s not.” She tried to lie back down; despite the fact that she knew sleep was not going to come.  Marvin sighed deeply and grunted. “Ash, you didn’t see her face. She said he was a shadow, like a ginger bread man. She heard rattling in the kitchen and went looking for him. What if it’s dangerous? We need help. This is all I have to protect you girls. She could have gotten hurt roaming around in the middle of the night looking for a- a shadow.  I love you girls too much to let a shadow frighten my daughter.” Defeat took over his voice and he was exasperated. How could he help her, if she needs it? If it turns out to be an unfriendly ghost, how do you stop something you cannot see? For all he knows, she was sleep-walking. But, Marvin being a well prepared man, he had to plan for the worst. He had to ease his mind to know that no matter what happens; he will try to protect his family.

            Never in a million years did he foresee this predicament. He knew he frightened his wife, Ashlee, because she was beginning to tear. He put down the weapon and climbed across the bed to hold her. She cried a little and told him that when she was little she used to see ghosts too. Her ghost, well, she was an angry little thing. It played tricks on her and tried to scare her often. When she began talking to the ghost it asked her to kill herself. She was confused by this request of her ghostly friend and the very next day she told her mother. She asked her why a ghost would ask her to do that. After that, they moved, sent her to a priest and had her blessed, had the new house blessed. After all of that, she never saw the ghost again. She always felt a menacing presence, but she just called it paranoia.

“You think we need to do that?” Marvin asked.

“Probably, my ghost was a little girl, she told me she wanted a friend to play with forever. It frightened me.” Ashlee said barely above a whisper.

            For the rest of their night they sat in one another’s embracing arms. They must have fallen asleep for a while. The air in the room changed. It was stiff. Marvin opened his eyes and did a quick scan of the room. Amelia is here; he smiled when he saw her then closed his heavy eyes. The sight of her registered to him and his brown eyes flew open and flooded with panic. Amelia was standing a few feet in from the door way with a big kitchen knife in her left hand and blood dripping from her right arm. There was a trail of blood behind her that he could see and a puddle forming where she now stood- staring. She cocked her to the right a little. “He told me to do it, daddy.” Her eyes were dark, never blinking. Her tone was slow and steady. And she was pale. His breathing quickened at the sight of her, and wasn’t quite sure what to do or how to react.

            To be quite honest, he was afraid of his daughter. Ashlee must have woken up, due to his breathing because she let out a wail and sprung out of bed. “What did you do?!” She cried. She ran to her bedroom bathroom and grabbed a clean hand towel and wrapped her small arm. Amelia never moved from her stance, her expression unchanging. Marvin sprang up and grabbed his car keys. “Why did he tell you to do this?” Ashlee looked at him, with ferocity and looked back at her daughter. She looked at her tiny arm and realized what her husband was asking their daughter. Amelia’s eyes focused on her father’s panic ridden gaze. “He said that I shouldn’t have told you about our secret and I needed to be punished. He said he was angry with me and that I need to leave-“ Then she looked to her right and nodded. She rushed out in a quick breathe, “to leave his room.”

            He scooped up his daughter from the floor and ran down the hall avoiding the blood trail, passed the kitchen to the right; which had a blood pool from where she stood, living room on the left and dinning room on the right just before the stairs. He ran down the stairs and made an immediate right to exit the house. He opened the car door and sat her in her car seat. Ashlee ran after him and hopped in the back with Amelia putting pressure on the gash. Marvin got in the car and started it. He backed out of the driveway and sped to the hospital. He ignored the cop car that followed him for speeding; how could he stop and just let her continue bleeding as he was questioned? He couldn’t; simple as that; he had weighed the options in his head; stopping the car and being questioned versus getting his bleeding daughter to the hospital? The obvious won out. What father, what parent would stop the car? He couldn’t think of a parent being so irresponsible.

            The siren was wailing and his wife crying in the back for him to just pull over. But, Marvin wouldn’t stop; he wouldn’t stop and jeopardize the life of his first born daughter. Luckily, their two year old daughter was visiting her grandparents for the weekend. It frightened him that Amelia was not crying with a gash as large as hers in her arm. She lost so much blood; the trail from the kitchen to the bedroom. She should’ve been unconscious.  She didn’t scream because they would have heard it. She took the so called punishment and didn’t appear to have even batted an eye. Blood, so much blood. Why didn’t she scream? Why did she do it? His mind was as frantic as his driving.

 The car screeched into the Emergency section of the hospital and his wife scrambled out of the car with Amelia, and her towel was saturated with blood. The cop car stopped behind him, Marvin stepped out of his vehicle as the officer approached him. He asked why he did not stop when being followed. He looked at the cop with disdain and shouted, “Look where we are? I needed to get my daughter to the hospital. That’s my job as a father. If you want to give me a ticket for failure to stop and speeding, go right ahead! Give me a court summons, I don’t care!” Marvin was distraught and did not know what to do.

            After a half hour fight with the police officer, he decided to let him go with a warning and told him next time, he’ll be held for failure to stop and back up will be called. He parked the car and met his wife inside. “I think they think I did it! I told them, I told them what you told me about last night and- and then we woke up and how she was standing there- and said sh-she, uh, needed to be punished for telling us.” She was crying and quite frazzled. What mother wouldn’t be? What parent wouldn’t be a wreck to find a young child self mutilating themselves?

“They said they think you did it?” He asked as he held her yet again to comfort his wife and to comfort himself.

“No. But if I were a nurse or a doctor I wouldn’t have believed me. It’s an unusual circumstance that sounds like a cover up. But, they did say she is going to be questioned by someone in Psych.” Marvin knew she was tired and her thoughts were often erratic but right now, he understood why. His were just as erratic as hers must be. He knew better than to fuel the fire. He looked at his worried wife and saw so much of his daughter in her; the blonde hair; the blue eyes; even the same smile; simply beautiful. But he couldn’t help thinking: Why did she look to her right? Was it standing there? Needs to leave…his room? What’s going on? Please, let this be one big messed up dream.

            She broke his chain of thoughts when she asked about the cop. He told her they were let off with a warning and next time if he didn’t pull over he was going to be arrested. She sighed and simply said, “I hate the cops out here.”  He nodded in agreement and they quietly waited to hear from the doctors. After hours of waiting a doctor approached them. “Mr. and Mrs. Bunefire?” A tall doctor asked. He was in his fifties; his face was weary and had been full of worry lines; from years of being in the field of medicine, he assumed. He was standing there in his dark blue scrubs and said, “I’m Dr. Feeroes, I’ve been overlooking your daughters case. We’re going to keep her overnight for some observation then decide in the morning if she needs to be admitted or not for a duration stay. If you’d like we can let you in for a few minutes, although visiting hours are over. Then you can go home if you’d like.” He didn’t sound particularly optimistic or too bleak. They weren’t sure what to make of this.

“Why does she need to stay for observation?” Ashlee asked the doctor calmly.

“Well, it’s very rare that a child self inflicts at such a young age. We’re concerned if we release her she may do it again. We asked her what had happened and her story is the shadow man told her to do it. So, this causes concern and we have to call for a psych consult. But, she is under supervision from psych and myself. We’d like to keep her under close observation for the night. See her behaviorism and if maybe it’s something that happens after she falls asleep. Also, she is having a blood transfusion; she has had significant blood loss. She’ll need to rest and we’ll check her vitals and everything in the morning to make sure she’s stable enough to go home if she’s not she’ll stay until we see an improvement. Or if it turns out to be something more than just sleep walking we may need to admit her to find out what else is causing this.”

“We can see her though? She’s okay?” Marvin asked relieved to hear he can see his daughter.

“It’s a psychological factor then? Because, this is unreal.” Ashlee asked very concerned. She was standing arms crossed. Marvin was close behind.

“You can see her. We’ve asked her dozens of questions and she responds the way she should for a young child. They only alarm she sent off was the shadow man and how her tone gets dark. Now, as protocol we called child protective services. I don’t think either of you did this, but when a child comes in with wounds such as these, we have to, standard procedure. Just talk to them and tell them event by event. Like I said, there’s nothing in her behavior that is unusual. The only thing we found to be out of the realm of normalcy is that she is talking about what she thinks is a shadow. That brings up some concern and the fact that she shows no emotion towards it. But, all you can do now is say goodnight to Amelia and go home and rest. The blood, it’s not a crime scene investigation so don’t think you’re tampering with anything. It’s alright to clean your home. The only thing the blood trail will prove is that it generated in the kitchen and she in fact walked to your bedroom. That’s what a cop would indicate in their report, a medical professional, and a civilian. We have had cases like this before but those parents are usually the cause of the broken bone or cuts. If it’ll make you feel better, take some pictures before you clean it up. You can both relax though. Come on, I’ll take you to see your daughter.” He smiled reassuringly and guided them to their daughter. They both exhaled in relief to hear the doctors didn’t think they caused this.

            They walked through the big double doors for emergency patients and continued down the hall. They walked into room three hundred and thirty three and saw their daughter in the hospital bed; she was hooked up with IV’s and connected to heart monitors. They wanted to make sure her pressure wouldn’t drop and her heart rate stayed normal. She looked at her parents and smiled, “Mommy! Daddy!” She was elated to see her parents. It’s been quite a few hours since she’s seen them last.  Ashlee eyes darted right to the huge bandages on her tiny arm. She hated seeing her daughter in a hospital bed. It frightened her even more that she could do this to herself. Marvin smiled hugely with tears welling in his eyes; he immediately rushed to her side and gave her a hug. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again! Do you understand?” He said with worry strained in his voice. Amelia nodded and brushed her hair out of her face.

            Ashlee gave her a hug as well. This was all too bizarre to her. A shadow man telling her she needed to be punished? That was ludicrous. She thought back to what was demanded of her as a child but it was never meant to be a punishment; merely a solution for her ghostly trickster who wanted a friend. She recalled that night very vividly in her mind. She was about seven years old and she woke because she had to use the bathroom and she was thirsty.

            As little as she was, she climbed out of her warm bed and started down the hall. She saw a glimpse of something but was too tired to get a good look. She turned on the bathroom light and took care of business. She grabbed the stepping stool so she could wash her hands. As a child, Ashlee had a terrible habit of leaving all the lights on. She ran out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. She turned on the light and dragged a chair very loudly to the cabinet. She always ran from place to place. Always wanting what ever was out of reach. Where ever you saw her running, you heard a chair that followed.

            She reached in the cabinet for a glass when all the lights turned out. She froze in place momentarily and then did a quick sweep around the kitchen looking for someone. She hated the dark, it frightened her. She liked the light where she could see. She knew what happened whenever the lights went out; then she spotted the shadow. Small and petite, you can see that she wore a nightgown because of the way her shadows cast themselves. Features never made a presence or at least she never cared enough to make that connection. But, she did remember how terribly frightened she was. This ghost was never nice to her, it always toyed with her. She was breathing heavily, standing on the chair in the dark. He hand held the glass tight.

            Slowly, the girlish shadow walked closer and closer. Ashlee, still standing on the chair didn’t move. She was unsure of what to do. She knew how young she was and how she wasn’t supposed to be roaming around at night. But, she also knew, with absolute certainty this shadow of a girl was evil. It sent chills up her spine, it paralyzed her with fear.  She stopped at the base of the chair and looked up. She did notice on this night when she stepped closer because they were near a window. Her shadowy complexion looked iridescently white with the moon reflection. Where her eyes should have been, were big black shadows and her mouth a black shadow. She spoke slowly and in a monotone voice. “Join me.” It was a request and not a question. This shadow never played games when requesting things from Ashlee. When she demanded something she wanted it done, no questions asked.

“Where?” Ashlee’s small frightened voice answered.

“To play forever. We’ll go to the roof and jump off. You and I will fly.”

“No. I’m not supposed to be out of my room.” Fear was building on top of her current fear. “And, I can’t fly, my mommy said so.”

“Now.” She demanded. The air in the room was beginning to shift, as it always did when she refused a request from her. She was growing angry and did not care about the mere life of a human child. All she cared about was that she had a demand and it needed to be met, no matter the cost.

“No!” Ashlee said firmly. From the second she uttered that one small word this shadow grew exceptionally angry. She let out a scream so hauntingly wretched and her featureless shadowed face contorted to the most terrifying thing Ashlee had ever seen. The place that held the position of her eyes grew longer and wider as did the mouth. It was almost as if she was lifted off the ground to purposely be that much closer to her face.

            After that, all she remembered was hearing herself scream as she fell off the chair and broke the glass she was holding. Her parents came running down the hall and found her crying. Of course, she repressed the memories of those days until now. The very thought that her daughter is having a shockingly similar encounter and went through with the task, made her nauseous. What frightened her even more was how she reacted to all of this. It was all completely normal to her. Or at least she didn’t seem to think this was unusual. “How do you feel, sweetie?” She asked in calming voice.

“A little sore. But, I’m okay, he said soon I’ll be with him and he could teach me things.” She replied and seemed excitedly pleased by this. Both Marvin and Ashlee looked at each other in bewilderment. “Honey, you need to stay away from the shadow man. He’s going to hurt you if you don’t. And we don’t want that do we?” Marvin always spoke to her like she was a young adult. He never cared for babying her; which right now is all he cares to do.  

“He said you’d say that. And that not to worry, because I’ll be like him and then nothing can hurt me.”

“Is that what you meant when you said ‘I need to leave’, did he ask you to hurt yourself so you can play forever?” Marvin asked without trying to sound accusatory. Amelia looked at him with fierce eyes that only confirmed what he thought.

“Amelia, listen to mommy. Look at me.” She was stern in her speech, Amelia looked up at her and her daughter’s eyes were vacant. It was as if they weren’t her eyes. They weren’t brilliantly blue anymore, they were dark. They were evil. Her little girl was being claimed by the shadow and it was happening before her eyes. “He is going to ask you to hurt yourself again. He’s going to make it sound like a good idea. Like flying off of a roof or swimming with dolphins. But, listen to mommy. We are humans, people, we cannot fly, and those dolphins are sharks or scary waves. They will kill you. Anything he tries to ask you to do, say ‘NO’. Okay, for mommy and daddy say no. And for your baby sister.” Amelia looked at her and cocked her head, her expression was complex; like she understood but something was confusing her, like she wasn’t being heard.

“Mommy, I already said yes.” Her eyes trailed to her arm. The doctor went to leave the room to call the psych specialist back but the door slammed shut. Marvin stood up from the bed to take in what just happened. The door slammed but the doctor never left. Ashlee held eye contact with Amelia. She let out a scream and her face contorted like the little girl from years ago. Ashlee stood up and backed away from the bed in pure fear. The lights went out and everyone was screaming.

The doors were rattling, and all the objects in the room. There was a loud painful grunt  followed by a thud, no one was certain from who. Everything seemed loud, chaotic, and terrifying. The room was pitch black, they could hear the banging on the door of personnel trying to get in to help. Inside the room, someone slipped and thudded to the floor.

“Ashlee!” Marvin yelled.

“Marv, over here!” Ashlee yelled back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sitting in something warm. Can you see anything?” He asked.

“No, but I smell- I smell. Metal. Is that right?” She asked. She sat still sniffing the smell more closely. The smell finally registered with Ashlee and she went still. She sat there stiff for a moment then it clicked. Blood. It was blood. “Marvin! It’s blood! Amelia! Amelia! Marv, what’s going on?” There was another horrific, monstrous scream and the lights flickered on and the scene before them was horrendous.

            Dr. Feeroes was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. His throat was ripped out and Amelia had blood all around her mouth.  She was standing over him as he lay limp under her; bleeding out. That was no longer their little girl. She was standing with her feet apart. Her stance was a slight hunch and her hands and fingers looked as if she was making them appear like claws. She screamed again and louder this time making the shadowed features of her eyes and mouth darker and more pronounced. Marvin and Ashlee embraced each other in one another’s arms. As she screamed; she pulled Marvin’s gun out her mouth. It just appeared out of no where. Marvin saw the gun and thought back to the morning hours when he saw his daughter. Was the gun there on the bed? He couldn’t remember. When he ran back to retrieve the keys, he grazed the bed. No, the gun was gone. His eyes filled with anguish and horror. He looked at his daughter. “Amelia, we love you.” She cocked her head to the right as if taking in what he was saying. Then she let out a loud growl. The lights went out again. Marvin and Ashlee held one another in agonizing fear. The air was cold and in a split second two shots were fired.