Hunted by Shadows

Chapter two

I blink hazily, my head thumping wildly out of control. My tongue feels thick at the back of my throat and a low groan spills out of my mouth.

Something heavy lies on top of me, the weight pressing me into the wooden floorboards beneath me.

My eyes suddenly snaps open and I scream when I come face to face with terrifying white eyes.

I let out a scream, jerk away, crawl backwards and kick at the horrible monster before me. My back hits the wall and my heart races painfully in my chest as I watch the creature.

It just lies there. Not moving, eyes not even flickering, entirely white – milky and clouded over.

I sit there for several seconds, eyes roaming over the odd animal – whatever the hell it is. It takes several seconds for me to gather the strength to crawl back across towards it. I prod it with a trembling finger but it doesn’t move, just lies there.

It’s dead. Dead, dead. I grip it’s fur and give it a shake, my heart rate still higher then I’d like.

I sit back, my body trembling. What the hell happened. I stare down at myself, aghast to find myself covered in impossibly dark blood.

I begin to hyperventilate, my body heavy as I stare down at my hands. They’re covered in blood, flaking and crispy – it’s been dry for a while now.

What the hell happened?!

I climb shakily to my feet, leaning heavily against the wall, wave after wave of exhaustion hitting me and a small noise, close to a sob escapes my mouth without my realisation.

My eyes are drawn to the ground where the knife sits, coated in blood just like everything else. Glances around, I find that the bed is bent in the centre, the wood obviously cracked from a massive amount of weight. Blood looks scraped across the walls as if something was hurled around.

My mind races as I struggle to breathe, to recollect some of my calm. I have to wash this. Get rid of the blood. Get rid of this thing. Whatever the hell it is.

Rather than being less afraid of the dead thing, I find myself filled with fear and anticipation as I hover above it, unable to stop the fierce trembling of my body.

I bend over and push it over onto its back, the feel of it coarse and disgusting, my eyes inspecting it. Its stomach is covered in patches of scales and fur, different colours and textures.

Looking at the deformed, disgusting creature makes bile rise in my throat. Several slashes cover its body and thick, thick blood oozes from it, way thicker then blood should ever be.

I swallow the bile and walk out of the room, chest heaving as I go straight to the bathroom.

The water is hot, burning and scalding against my skin but I scrub nevertheless, digging my nails into my skin to scrape away at the blood that coats my skin, sticking to it and making me heave.

The metallic smell remains. Heavy in the air, filling my nostrils and making It difficult to breathe. My thoughts are a haze, a jumble, utterly incoherent.

How did this happen? What happened?! All I can remember is trying to get out through the window and then… and then…

The phone.

Swallowing, I turn off the tap. Looking down through blurred eyes I try to reassure myself that the blood’s gone, that the pinkish tint is all in my imagination. It’s gone.

I dry my hands on the grey towel at my side, my breathing slowing and calming. I can sort this. I can deal with this.

I’ve dealt with bad situations before. I can do this. If only I could figure out what the hell that thing was! Why was it here?

I make my way back to my bedroom and as I step through the door, I realise just how out of place the giant beast is. It must be at least nine foot long and god only knows how many feet wide. It’s giant.

I search for the phone. But I find nothing. Nothing at all. It’s gone – as if it was never there. What did the person say on the other end? I can’t remember. Did they say anything? Was there just silence?

Why am I tormenting myself with these questions? It’s going to drive me insane. This is just crazy. It’s not natural.

I need to sleep.

But first, this thing. What to do with it? Bury it?

I glance outside my window, biting hard on my lip. It’s getting light. It’s likely I’ve already missed my milk rounds.

I can’t bury it now, not when exhaustion seems to sit on my shoulders. I doubt I’ll even be able to get it down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself and tell myself to stop being such a god damn baby.

“I am not a weak little girl. I can handle this.”

It doesn’t matter how long it takes. First, get the thing downstairs, get a shovel and bury it somewhere far away from the house.

Second, clean. Scalding hot water and a lot of bleach. I have to clean every inch of this room. Scrub it until there’s no remains of this horrible memory – on some level, I just want to forget about it all. On the other, I want to remember what happened when I blacked out.

Swallowing hard, I set to work.

***

The world spins around me and I try to wrap my head around it, understand the way that it moves. A storm brews in the distant, sky dark and threatening. And yet above me the sky is blue, crystal clear – not a cloud within sight. It’s a stark contrast.

I look down at myself. I look different somehow. Rounder, softer – like I’ve gained several pounds somehow.

Distantly I realise this is a dream. But it just feels so realistic. I’m dressed in a plain white dress, more lace then anything – and the breeze against my legs, the dirt between my toes is more realistic then I’d ever like to admit.

He stands a few feet away. His face is impossible to see. I have no idea what he looks like. Even his height or size I can’t tell.

All I can tell is that he’s holding a gun and he’s pointing it directly at me.

Fear holds me close. Makes me shiver. I plead softly. I don’t beg, just breathe ‘please’, hoping that he’ll listen to me, hoping that he won’t do what he’s planning.

His mouth twists into a smirk. He shakes his head. The gun fires and I drop through the Earth, falling and falling, my screams unheard to those parading around, leading their lives how they wish,

Hell. I’m going straight to hell. Falling through the abyss, into the burning depths below.

I hit the ground and the world explodes. Fire, fire, everywhere. It singes my skin, eats away at it hungrily, roaring and shouting at me. I scream, writhing in my panic.

I can’t escape the fire. The searing fire. I’m trapped.

I wake shaking, my skin cold and sweaty, clammy. I feel sick. I sit upright from bed, my heart hammering.

That dream. Again. It’s been a while since the last time I had it. If only I could understand it. With a soft sigh I flop back down, my mind ravaged by the nightmare.

I know that as soon as I close my eyes, I’ll dream it again. Plus, I should be getting up to at least try to go to work today.

But exhaustion wins and I can’t fight the nudge of sleep once more and I slip beneath the waves of sleep.