Amy’s Story: Part 5

(Daily Prompt: Massive)
Massive problems are solved, one small step at a time.

roaring-fireplace-fire-flame


(To read from beginning:  Amy’s Story: Part 1)

[RECAP:  Amy is kidnapped, and chained in an underground, root cellar, by a vicious serial killer.  After hours of hanging in the dark cellar, her captor takes her to an abandoned cabin, hidden deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Rudy, her beloved Golden Retriever, lays in the snow, dying from a gunshot wound, received while trying to save Amy. Sky, the love of Amy’s life, walks the desolate forest, following  snow-mobile tracks, she believes lead to Amy.]  

Rudy had tried his best to save Amy, but his attempts lay waste, due to the bullet lodged deep in his right shoulder.  As much as he had tried, he now lay motionless.  A light dusting of snow, from the fir branches above, covered his body.  A blanket of white, stained only, by the blood oozing from his dying heart.

As Rudy lay there, with his eyes closed, his life began to flash before him, in cinematic grandeur.  As scene one opened, the sight of his mother, Abigail, caused him to whimper.   Through the years his memories of her had faded, but now, once again, he saw her through puppy eyes…

Rudy gazed into the brown eyes, of a beautiful Golden Retriever, named Abigail.  Oblivious of the name given her by humans, Rudy touched his nose to her nose, and knew her only as mama. 

It had been long day, for Rudy, without his litter-mates.  He was confused, and wondered where they were.  At least he still had mama, he thought, and snuggled into the warmness of her fur.  This was his favorite spot.  The rhythmic beat coming from her heart, comforted him, and as always, like a lullaby, eased him to sleep.

Rudy was roused from his peaceful sleep by the sound of humans close by.

“Well, we only have one left; the runt, but you’re welcome to take a look-see at him.  Come on in here…uh…what’d you say your name was…?”

“Sky.  My name is Sky.” 

“Okay, Sky, come on in here.  I like to keep the bitches, and their pups in the barn when it’s this cold outside.  I’d hate for them to get cold.”

Human-talk, was gibberish to Rudy; so he snuggled closer to mama’s heart, and buried his head in her warm golden fur.  Before sleep could claim him, Rudy felt himself being lifted by gentle hands.  He opened his eyes, and looked down at the face of woman with blue eyes, and blonde spiky hair.  Rudy yawned, blinked his eyes, and looked once again, into the face of the human holding him.  This time, he noticed, she had a big smile upon her face.   She pulled him closer and kissed him on his wrinkled brow. 

“Oh my God…he’s perfect!”  

Human-gibberish again, thought Rudy, but he didn’t mind;  he licked the human on her nose, and thought, she smells good. 

Sky laughed at the puppy’s slobbery kiss, and pulled him closer. 

“So, how soon can I take him home?” Sky asked, feeling the warm bundle of fur wiggle beneath her chin. 

“Well, if you got the money, you can take him home today.”

“Oh, I got the money, all right!”

“Well, okay then!  Just put him back in there with his mama, and follow me to the office.  Watch-ya step, there’s a couple of poop piles I’ve not gotten to yet.”

Sky kissed Rudy again, and put him back beside Abigail, who was now looking up,  sitting on her haunches, and wagging her tail. 

“My gosh, Abigail, you are pretty!” 

Sky patted the top of Abigail’s head, and then turned to follow the man wearing denim overalls. 

“Hey, where ya going?” barked Rudy.  He jumped up to place his paws on the wire fence separating him from the humans.  His little tailed wagged so fast it created a small dust cloud, as it brushed back and forth over the dirt floor. 

***

Rudy lay on the car seat, beside Sky, and cried.  The seat beneath him was cold, the smells around him unfamiliar, and worst of all, his mama was nowhere to be seen.  The lady beside him was nice enough, but he missed his mama’s heartbeat, her brown eyes and the warmth of her fur. 

“Mama…mama…” He barked shrilly. “Where are you, mama?”

Sky placed a reassuring hand on him and crooned, “It’s okay little fellow…it’s going to be all right…I promise.”

Human gibberish, thought Rudy, and even though the warmth from the human’s hand was comforting, he barked even louder, “Mama…mama…mama…” 

Finally the car stopped, and the human got out, and closed the door.  He was alone but a few seconds, when the car door beside him opened.  He saw the human squat, so that she was eye level.  Once again his listened to human gibberish. 

“Okay, little fellow, now’s the time for you to perform magic.”  

Rudy cocked his head, and looked at the human with a confused expression.  The human laughed, rubbed his head and continued her gibberish. 

“Here’s the plan.  When the front door opens, you will mesmerize her with those gorgeous, chocolate eyes of yours.”

 “Okay?” 

“You see, I’ve done something stupid, and once again I’m in hot water with my girlfriend, and you , my little one, are the prettiest olive branch I could find.”

“Let’s hope, Amy thinks so too…”

Rudy cocked his head the other way, trying to understand, and once again the human laughed.  In spite of his homesickness, the happiness of her laugher made him feel a little better.  And then, he felt her lift him, from the cold seat, and pull him against her, for a warm hug.  Rudy’s  “happy-meter,” tilted a tad more to the right, and he began wagging his tail.

At the door, the human pressed a button, not once, but twice.  After a moment, they both heard footsteps on the other side.  Rudy felt himself lifted higher, and the human hid her face behind him, and whispered, “Okay, little fellow, now’s the time.  Do your magic…” 

The door opened, and Rudy saw Amy for the first time.  He looked into Amy’s shocked, brown eyes, and thought, “She has the same eyes as mama !”  In that instant, Rudy’s homesickness vanished, and peace took its spot.  He knew he was home, and always would be, with Amy. 

The magical spell was broken, by the voice of the human, behind him.   

“Amy…I’m so sorry…”

Amy, captured within Rudy’s spell, ignored Sky, and took the golden bundle, pulled him to her, and hugged him tenderly. 

Sky, stood in the doorway and smiled; confident, her plan had been a success. 

***

The mental image of Amy, caused a dying Rudy, to gasp for air, and the mental flashes of his life ceased.  His eyes opened, and to see the fir branches, waving above him.  For a moment, he wondered where when he was at, and then the events of the past hour came to  him.

He remembered he had been on the porch, sniffing, searching for squirrels, when he caught the scent of someone close by.  The scent was vaguely familiar, he couldn’t quite place it, but he knew he had smelled it before.

As Rudy lay in snow, he thought about the events that had led him here…

His gut lurched and he knew danger was near.  A waft of air ruffled Rudy’s hair, and he lifted his nose to it, trying to get a better whiff.  His nostrils filled with the scent of the stranger, and Rudy realized he knew stranger.  He had met this man before, and he clearly remembered disliking him; from day one, Rudy knew this man to be evil.    He had tried to warn Amy, by growling and barking, but she had scolded him, and put him in another room.  Rudy remembered laying  with his nose pressed to the opening, at the bottom of door, until the evil man had left and until he knew Amy to be safe. 

And now, as he stood on the cabin’s porch, he took one more sniff, just to confirm his suspicion. Rudy felt the hairs of his back rise, and he realized it was indeed the same evil man. 

Rudy began to bark and growl viciously, trying to warn Amy to stay inside, and then to Rudy’s horror,  Amy opened the door and stepped outside.  In the same instant, the evil man came around the corner of the cabin, and ran to grab Amy from behind.  Rudy saw something in the man’s hand, and knew it was meant to hurt Amy.  Without hesitation, Rudy lunged forward, but in mid flight, he heard an explosion, saw a flash of light, and then felt something hit him.  Whatever it was, it hit him so hard, he fell to floor at Amy’s feet. 

The memory of Amy in danger, sent a surge of adrenalin through Rudy’s body, and from its strength, Rudy tried to stand.  He stood but for a moment, until intense pain wracked his body, causing him to fall back into the snow.  Upon impact, Rudy cried out against the pain.

Again he tried to stand, and once again his body felt horrible pain; however, this time Rudy refused to lay down.  Instead he thought of Amy, and somehow he found the strength to take a step.

One slow step at a time, Rudy followed, the snow-mobile tracks that led to Amy.

***

The watch on her arm, told Sky she had been following the trail for at least an hour.

She followed two paths simultaneously; one from a snow-mobile and the other left by Rudy’s bloody paw prints.  She noticed, the farther they went, the bloodier they were.

Sky wiped away the tears, that ran down her face.  She knew Rudy was losing too much blood, and so, she braced herself, for the body, she knew she would soon find.

Sky pulled her hoodie snuggly over her head, but it did little to combat the gusts of cold wind.  The cold reminded her of the cool steel, pressed against the small of her back.  The gun’s coldness comforted her.

A month ago, she had purchased two revolvers, without Amy’s knowledge.   She didn’t tell Amy, because she knew, Amy frowned upon the idea of a gun in the house.

Sky hid one gun at home, within a box of her personal mementos, that sat upon the top shelf, of her bedroom closet.  She knew Amy would never look there.  The other gun, the one at the cabin, she had hid under the mattress, on her side of the bed.

Sky was a little less confident of that particular hiding place, but the cabin was small, with no closets.  She had pondered, somewhere in the kitchen, but Amy was the cook, and so, that option had been “shot down” from the get go.  In spite of the circumstances, Sky couldn’t help but smile at the corny pun.

Sky wrestled often with the guilt of keeping the secret from Amy; after all, it had been that very thing, that had almost ended their relationship, a few years ago.  Silently Sky thanked Rudy, because of him, Amy’s heart was softened, and so she had agreed to give Sky another chance.

Sky soothed her conscience, by telling herself, the guns were for Amy’s protection.  She just hoped, Amy would feel the same way when the truth came to light.  At the time, Sky felt she had no other choice, especially after Amy had been beaten, and almost raped.  Sky was willing to risk their relationship in order to save Amy’s life.

 Sky lifted one painful foot from the deep snow, and then the other.  Amy’s borrowed, and too-small boots, rubbed against the back of her feet, causing two large blisters to appear.  She grimaced with each step, but never slowed pace; her eyes fixed upon the tracks ahead of her.  Sky was determined to get to Amy.

“Hang on baby…I’m coming.”

Her words fell empty to the desolate forest surrounding her.

***

Amy’s body still ached, from hanging hours in a dark, cold cellar.  She sat on the couch thanking god for the blanket, and the heat radiating, from the fireplace before her.   Alone in the room, she wondered where he had gone, and when he would be back.  He, after tenderly wrapping her bloody ankles, had stood abruptly, and without a word, walked out the front door.  Like a flip of a switch, his demeanor had changed from gentle nurturer, to cold stranger.

Amy looked around the room.  The log walls of the cabin were chinked, with what had once been red clay.  Its hues had faded over time, it was cracked, and in some areas it was crumbled enough to let in the cold air from outside. The only window in the room was hid by a large piece of plywood, that had been nailed to the wall.  Amy counted the nail heads.  There were only four, one in each corner.  Amy felt confident, it given the opportunity, she would be able to prise it from the wall.  She studied the front door.  It was solid wood, with a brass door knob and it fastened by a set of brass deadbolts.  Just above the deadbolts, hung a heavy chain, about a foot long, and parallel on the door post beside,  hung another chain, with an open pad-lock, swinging from the last link.

The door suddenly opened, and her captor walked inside.  He shut the door quickly, but not quick enough to keep out a rush of cold air.  Amy watched as he locked both deadbolts, and then linked the heavy chains together and secured them with the padlock.

 He turned to see Amy watching, and he gave her his best smile.

“See Amy, we’re safe and sound.  Nothing can get in, and nothing can get out, without my permission.”

He covered the distance between them in three steps, pulled something from his hip pocket, and tossed it on her lap.

“Put these on.”

Amy looked at a white, cotton gown, picked it up, and handed it back to the man, towering over her.

“Where are my clothes?”  She asked defiantly.

He squatted in front of her, and slide both hands under the blanket to rest upon her bare knees.   Amy tried to pull away, but he squeezed her so tightly, she couldn’t move.  He leaned in to her until his face was only inches from hers.

“Are you referring to the filth you wore earlier today?” He said this through gritted teeth.

Amy almost opened her mouth to answer, but the evil in his eyes, warned her to keep her mouth shut.

“Amy…my dear sweet Amy…”  He laughed.

“I threw your whore rags into the fire place…”  Again he laughed.

“Are they keeping you warm….hmmm?”

He leaned in even closer, and Amy feared he would kiss her, but instead he put his lips to her ear and whispered,  “Enjoy their warmth…they will never touch your body again.”

***

…to be continued…


 

 

 

 

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Haunted Circus

maxresdefaultCircus Circus was built-in 1968.  Unfortunately the owner, Jay Sarno, failed to build an accommodating hotel and so there was very little incentive to lure in high rollers.  As a result the casino quickly fell into financial trouble.    Sarno, tried to rectify his mistake by borrowing an extra 23 million dollars, however, the loan came with ties to the Chicago mob.  This mob-related endeavor built the hotel but it also put Sarno within the cross-hairs of the authorities.  Sarno, wracked with fear, finally sold his casino/hotel in 1974.  Since then Circus Circus has undergone many expansions and today it as recognized as one of the most iconic casinos in Las Vegas.

Be that as it may, if you find yourself in Vegas and are so inclined to stay at Circus Circus you would be wise to stay far away from certain rooms.   Loud cries for help and screams of bloody murder are often heard coming from rooms 123, 230, 576, and 203.  Many through the years have fallen from their room window to their deaths below.  The lady in room 123, shot out the brains of her son before turning the gun upon herself.  Of course she and her son are said to haunt the room and walk the hallways.

So tourist, beware…

Stay Creepy My Friends!

Haunted Circus is in participation with today’s prompt circus.

(From http://paranormalistics.blogspot.com/:  Las Vegas – Circus Circus – loud cries for help are herd in the poker rooms and also rooms 123 230 576 and 203 in the bathroom at night you here the words help me and screaming bloody murder that they want help also a 76 year old man that worked there for 20 years claims that 3 people were killed in the kitchen on the same night  and the lady in room 123 shoot her and her little boys brains out and ever since then the little boy and his mom haunts the place looking for there husband/dad and anyone with same name as Robert and has black hair gets murdered and hung from the ceiling)

Siren’s Song

Siren's Song

Max’s stare was blank but his body was filled with longing.  Her song was the epitome of desire.  In all of his 50 years, Max had never heard anything to compare.

The first time it had happened, Max had been suffering from insomnia.  Sleep, always his distant friend, remained aloof long into the witching hours, and so, out of utter boredom, he had done the unthinkable…. he had walked barefoot to an empty dock, boarded his Irish Lady and taken her out into the calm sea waters.  Max knew sailing alone, especially in the dead of night, wasn’t the smartest thing to do; however a stifling loneliness prodded him to  curse all warnings and tuck them away into the deepest recess of his mind.

At first, all was quiet, save for  the wind’s gentle tug on the mainsail and the small waves kissing the sides of the Irish Lady.  With the waters so calm, Max relaxed by the rudder and enjoyed his cigar without interruption.  Nearing the end of the smoke another sound began to mingle among the wind and waves.  The mé·nage à trois slowly married and became  a sweet seductress caressing and whispering within his ear.

At first, Max wondered if another boat was near, but a quick 360 proved that he and his Irish Lady were the only ones upon the water.  As the song grew louder, he relaxed and was eventually enveloped within the soprano’s beautiful serenade.  The woman’s voice was soft and gentle and even though Max knew it to be strange he felt no fear, only a peaceful sense of longing.

“Strange…” he whispered, “so…so strange.”

The Siren’s song warmed him and put him in a blank trance  until it slowly left as it had come, leaving only the sounds of the wind and waves.  Max had stayed out another hour hoping to hear her voice again but it never came.  Disappointed he turned his Irish Lady and went home.  The moonlight sail proved cathartic, for he had slept like a baby once he was home and under the covers of his bed.

Max went out every night for the rest of the week and sure enough he was rewarded with his sweet siren’s song.  Never, not even once, had he any inkling  to jump overboard into the arms of some beautiful bare breasted mermaid.  Just the opposite, he laughed, her voice had made him feel warm and completely safe.

Fearing he was losing his mind, Max had promised that each night would be the last, only to break the promise the following night.  And so, here he was, once again, sailing under the milky way awaiting the siren’s song.  With each night his desire to hear her grew until tonight it was a consuming fire begging to be quenched.  Minutes faded into hours with no sign of his siren.   Max, unwilling to give up, continued to sail the dark waters like a mad animal ravenous for his prey.  Finally it became obvious that his siren was not coming.     Utter loneliness squeezed his heart so hard it physically hurt, but he had  no other choice but to turn the Irish Lady and head back home.

Max went straight to bed but once again sleep was a stranger. He lay awake in his bed watching the breeze flutter the curtains of the open bedroom window.  He was filled with the fear that he’d never hear his siren again.

“Why hadn’t she come?” he whispered into the nothingness.

Faintly…ever so faintly a voice…her voice… like a whisper drifted through the open window.   His heart quickened, and  quickened all the more, when he realized her song was gradually getting louder. Finally she sang to him right outside his window and just as it had been upon the water her voice soothed him.

Entranced he lay there listening until her song came to an end..  At first he was afraid she had gone but then he heard her breathing and he knew she was still there.  He thought it impossible but her breath outside his window was sweeter than her song.  Gradually her whispers of breath became heavier and huskier until his siren sounded like a woman consumed with orgasmic pleasure.  Max filled with need and he wanted her to come inside and slip beneath the covers with him.  Somehow he knew she couldn’t come inside until he offered an invitation.

He was about to beckon, only to be interrupted by her moaning…

“…Max…I came for you, I came for you upon the waters, but I couldn’t find you.  My heart hurt… my soul cried, and my body ached for you… and so, I have come to you, Max…please…please bid me come in…”

Max, throbbing with the pain of desire, could wait no longer, said, “Come to me.”

The screen that separated her from his room began to tear slowly from top to bottom.   Max looked for her presence, but could see no one, only the slow rending of the screen. Once it  reached its decent a head flowing with long black hair slowly emerged.   Max strained to see her face, however, it was downcast so that her hair fell forward and long. The figure climbed through the window and then stood naked within the moon’s glow. Her long hair fell strategically to cover her breasts and cascaded over her body to hide everything but the perfect rounding of her hips and the length of her legs.  Standing like this she didn’t move and  Max wondered if he should go to her; however, as if she heard his thought, she began to slowly move toward him.  Once at the foot of the bed she stopped to stand silently, her hair, still covering her face, had parted just enough to expose the nipple and swell  of her left breast.  Feeling as if he could wait no longer, Max begged her to come to him.  Once the plea left his mouth she disappeared.  He presumed she had vanished until he felt the rustle of the sheets around his feet, and he knew she was about crawl underneath the covers. Slowly he felt her womanly body inch its way over his until she lay full upon him.  Her body was warm and soft and she eased her softness over his hardness until he was totally consumed within her flesh.    She began to slowly move upon him.and he thought he would die.  Consumed in desire he arched upward and ran his hands over her buttocks, up the small of her back, and ever upward until they held each side of her head. .  His fingers entangled within her hair and slowly he was able to push it up and over her face, and in that instant his siren let out a blood curdling scream.  Max opened his tightly closed eyes and saw a hideous hag writhing in pleasure above him.  Her mouth, unhinged hung long and low, and rocked side to side like a metronome.  Horrified he watched as her jaw stretched even longer so that he looked down the black bottomless pit of her throat.  Feeling the pull this dark abyss, Max  looked to his siren’s eyes to beg for mercy, but her bulbous eyes were even blacker than the pit and he knew they contained no mercy.  Unimaginable pain wracked his body as he felt himself shrivel to a liquid that poured down her throat.  The hag hungrily drank every portion of him until all that was left was damp spot upon sheets.

Slowly the hag’s sagging mouth closed and turned into lips the color of rose buds; and her black eyes grayed and morphed  until they were the color of the Mediterranean Sea.  A beautiful naked women left Max’s bed, drifted through the torn screen and disappeared into the sea mist  that lay beyond.

Having a Creepy Kind of Day

Why so serious?

(You know it can’t be healthy)

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Borrowed from Spooky Southeast

“British X-files” soon to be released for public view!  Article later today!

Visit my other Blog Redhead Reflections

(Spooky Southeast podcast-well worth the listen!)

Survive the House of Poe?

poe_dinner

I should take up the pen to write it away,

Apathy wins…so there the pen lay.

Rid my soul…this melancholy pest?

Is there a way?  Or do none exist?

She grabs your throat through thinnest of cloth.

Uninvited she crawls… right into your mouth.

She reeks of bitter there is no doubt,

But swallow you must, there’s no way out.

Damn this melancholy…a gift from Poe?

Taking me down to the pits below.

Into the tunnel I feel my way.

No light to see, no presence of day.

I’ve been here before…a time or two.

Now, that’s a lie…Tis more than a few!

There is a place…Oh can it help?

But the grass is high…have the cards been dealt?

Anyone home?  Please…can you be there?

Please open the door… show me you care.

I call and call but no sound from you.

A step I hear and your laughter too.

This slap in the face I take on the chin.

So many times…and yet, now, again?

Over and over a deaf ear you turn,

So I’m nobody…no one of  discern?

I take my leave to walk in time,

Faces I see…Do they see mine?

No, faceless am I …no story to tell,

So back go I…where the melancholy dwell.

In a moment…brief though it may be,

I think I hear you, coming for me.

But then the silence around me drape,

A cloak of death…Should I partake?

This hole of despair I know I should climb.

Before it’s too late and I run out of time.

And so here I lay…my own little world.

This house of Poe…within I am curled.

Should I try…just one more knock?

Could it be true…Will the door unlock?

A face to gain and in dignity dwell?

No… is resounded from the pits of hell!

Into my cave with blackest of hue

Survival’s a myth…and I just don’t want to.

Morris in Thought

 

Please visit my other blog Redhead Reflections

Possession

Possession

Ghost ChildI was quite the unusual child.  No one dared speak it out loud, but none-the-less, it ate upon their brains like a canker sore.

“Different…,” they’d say.  “Just a wee-bit queer…for my like’n.”  Then they’d catch me looking at them and their faces would blanch white, as the cotton they were picking.

I enjoy making them uncomfortable.  I enjoy hearing the rhythm of their heartbeat quicken.  It makes me alive within this skin.

It’s a funny thing to feel so alive when scaring others to death.  I almost get giddy with the pleasure.  Once I almost smiled but  I never let them see me smile.

One day I’ll leave this village, but not until I’m finished with them.  I never leave a job undone.  I stay until the end…and sometimes it takes oh so long for the end.

The end makes me sad.  After the end there is no fear and it’s the fear I miss most.  And so I stretch the means to defer the end.

I try to linger as long as possible, but, alas, the end is always inevitable.  So when the job is done, I lay them to hell and spill dirt over their faces…and then…then I can smile.

I wonder the woods, for beyond yonder hill, my new family awaits.  The cabin is bright and I knock at the door.  When it opens they invite me in and  my job begins all over again.

Generations have come and generations have gone, and yet I’m still here…still the same unusual, girl of seven.

Yes, this always remains…

I’m never alone, for this body I possess, will always be my home.

***

Home is a person.  If you’re lucky, home is yourself. __ Duchess Goldblatt 

[Please visit my other blog Redhead Reflections]

The Book of Death

(The following short story was first published at Redhead Reflections my other Blog)

0707ephr9_600x5461 Tuesday began as any other boring day in the life of Annie Smith.  The alarm clock rang at exactly 6:45 am which gave Annie at least two wacks at the snooze button before she had to be up promptly at 7 am in order to make it to her job at the Martin County Public Library.  As usual, she stumbled to the shower for a quick body rinse to begin the awaking process which ended after her second cup of coffee.  Coffee, toast and one boiled egg and she was out the door of her small apartment, down the three flights of stairs, to stroll to the nearest bus stop.

Sure enough the drab Library was just where she left it the night before.  Annie inserted her skeleton key and thus began her lonely 8 hour shift.  Annie had always been an introvert, so this job suited her personality; however, as of late, she’d been experiencing a feeling…something akin to loneliness.  As much as she tried to shake the alien feeling, it clung to her and periodically invaded her thoughts throughout her 8 hours as librarian. The feeling, like an intrusive grain of sand in her shoe, pestered her ever so softly, just enough for her to know it there.

Yesterday, while at work, Annie had been so irritated by the feeling that she found herself strolling the romance section scanning the books on the shelves.    She noticed one particular book was jutted out a fraction more than the others.  Annie reached for that book and whispered the title  aloud in the empty library… “I Have Come for You”  She had opened the book’s worn cover and read the first sentence of chapter one: “Annie, oblivious to the precipice before her, fell head long into a seduction that would forever alter her lonely life.”  Shaken by such a personal application, her hands that held the book quivered until the book fell to the floor.  She stared at the open book, lying on the floor, for what seemed like hours.  Finally, she bent down to retrieve the book and saw that the left page of the book was blank but the right page contained the heading for chapter two which read…“There is no escape…I will have you.”  Annie had laughed nervously, and then shook her head in unbelief, as she put the book back into its place upon the shelf.

Today, as Annie strolled from one computer to the next, making sure each green light was lit, the whole scenario from yesterday seemed ridiculous to Annie .  What an absurd idea that the book had been personally speaking to her.  She giggled loudly with the thought.  Startled from the sound that had escaped her lips, she quickly put her hand to cover her mouth.  She looked around to see if anyone had slipped in through the front door.  No, the tiny library was as empty as when she had walked inside a half an hour ago.  For some reason Annie was frightened by the sound of her own laughter.  She couldn’t help but think that the shrill cackle had come from the lips of someone going mad.   No one else was here, so it had to have been her laughter.  Surely, she was not mad.  The thought rested uneasy within her psyche.

“Oh Annie…don’t be so stupid…,” she nervously berated herself and walked rather jerky to toward the comfort of her plush office chair.  The chair was one thing she had insisted upon when she took this job.  It was soft and firm where it needed to be to conform perfectly to her slightly overweight form.   Annie placed the palms of her hands on the desk and began to sit, but before she completed the final descent into the beloved chair she noticed something out of place.  There, lying atop the keyboard of he computer, lay a book.  Her faced blanched white because she knew it was “the book.”

“What the fuck?”  Annie never cursed but the word had come from her mouth as if she had been saying it all her life.  Her exclamation was loud but she didn’t care.  She didn’t care if someone was there to hear her profanity because nothing mattered to her exceptthe book lying on her desk.  Slowly she picked it up and instantly felt compelled to turn it’s pages to chapter three.  She did.  Glaring at her from page 117 were the words… “Don’t look behind you…” Annie’s heart quickened in her chest.  She desperately wanted to turn around, just to prove that they were only words on a page, but she dare not. Her heat began to beat even faster and once again the cackle of laughter filled the library. Annie heard it but was unaware it belonged to her.  Her mind raced with fear and wonder as to what the book would say next.  Slowly she turned the pages of the book until she came to chapter four.

Annie closed her eyes, too afraid to look.  She squeezed her lids so tight it was painful. She wouldn’t look…she couldn’t look…NO, she told herself…but alas she was overcome with curiosity and so she opened her hurting eyes to see a blur scribbled across the page.   Her heart beat wildly as she waited for her eyes to focus.  Finally her vision cleared and she read the sentence, “Annie…can you feel my breath upon your neck?”  The words brought on chills that crawled all over her body.  Tiny beads of sweat covered her already clammy skin.  She could feel a rhythmic draft of air upon her neck.  It touched her and then it was gone…touched her and then it was gone… Each time it came back to her it was warmer.

Something inside, perhaps sanity, told Annie to burn the book.  It pleaded for her to “…take it outside now, strike a match and burn the fucking thing before it was too late!”   But the breath kept touching her. It slid down her neck to caress her breasts.  Her nipples hardened and her heart beat even faster.  Again the voice inside pleaded with her to burn the book, but Annie turned a deaf ear.  The breath was too warm, too erotic.

There were two more chapters left in the book and Annie knew she was destined to turn to each one.  Desiring more of the feelings that hugged her body, she turned to chapter five with fervency, wondering where the breath would take her next.  Under the heading of chapter five she read,  “Annie…feel my hands touching you…”  Annie gasped as the breath upon her body became hands wooing her to ecstasy.  Deep inside her she heard the remnants of a distant voice saying something…something she barely recognized as…matches…or…fire?  Annie didn’t care. She only cared about the hands stroking and begging her to turn to the last chapter.  When the thought of…yes I will…formed in her head, the book fell open to the last chapter of it’s own accord.

4b45734f3ea305c41966b4754d10be82Annie’s eyes were closed but this time she didn’t need to read the words on the page.  The words of the book became sound and spoke to her in a man’s voice.

“I’m here for you.”

His voice was smooth as honey.  His hands, still warm upon her body, slowly turned turned her around.

“Open your eyes.”

And so, Annie obeyed.  She opened her eyes to stare into a hooded black hole.  The hole, shrouded by the hood, was so dark that she thought it to be empty, but then it smiled.   The white of its teeth broke the darkness and slowly morphed into a “Cheshire” grin of jagged fangs.  Her desire instantly turned to terror.  The thing gnashed its teeth, taunting her.  Annie screamed into the shrouded hole and her heart burst red with blood.  Her last thought was, …the book…I should’ve burned the book.

One month later:

“Yeah, they said it was’a heart attack”  Roger scratched his head and added, “…hmmm…but I ain’t so sure.”

Katherine, the new librarian,  looked at the janitor,  “What do you mean, you’re not so sure?”

“Well, I ain’t never seen a face of death quite like that one…sum’ing just wasn’t right.  It was like she’d seen…” he paused a second to shake his head slowly, then spoke in a hushed tone,”…it was…it was like she had seen sum’ing that scared the life right out’a her.”

Katherine smiled kindly at the janitors whispered words, and tried her best to quell his fears, “Don’t you worry, Mr Roger, I’m sure there’s nothing at all to be afraid of in here.” She let her eyes scan the mundane emptiness of the library and added, “nothing at all, except maybe, boredom.”

“Yes, ma’am, you right about that…this place can get kind’a lonesome.”

Katherine watched as Roger shuffled out the front door leaving her alone in the library.  She wasn’t afraid of being alone.  On the contrary, the introvert inside her welcomed the solitude…just more time for reading, she thought.

Katherine stretched within her comfortable chair and stifled a yawn.  Wondering what the thermostat was set on she got up to check but stubbed her toe on something beneath the counter.  She looked down to see what it was but nothing was there.  Figuring her toe had shoved whatever it was further under the counter she got on her hands and knees to  see.  Sure enough lying in the dusty darkness was a book.  Katherine seized the book and rather clumsily stood to get a better look.  Turning the tattered book in her hands she read its title, “I’m Here for You.”

“My goodness!  How long have you been hiding under there?”

Forgetting about the thermostat, Katherine sat back down into the plush chair and blew the dust from the book’s cover.  As she stared at the book she felt something akin to loneliness.  Quietly she whispered, “What the hell,” and opened the book to chapter one.