In the Night

Jemma worried her bottom lip, her white teeth sinking into the soft flesh as she scribbled something down into a narrow box on the form she held. She was tired and couldn't wait to go home. At nearly twenty-four, she had just started her third year of medical school. She worked herself ragged in high school to graduate a year early, at only seventeen, and followed that up by completing her undergraduate courses with flying colors. Now she was shadowing a senior doctor at the local hospital. It was all exhausting work. She was certain it would take years before she would ever catch up on lost sleep. However, she was passionate about it. She loved helping people and she was excited about what her future held.

"Need a ride home?" a pleasant voice asked from behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned around to smile at the attractive intern she had recently befriended. His lips were tilted up in a friendly smile and his blonde hair was messy from the gray sweatshirt he had just tugged on. Self-consciously, Jemma reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

"I'd say yes, but I'm actually going to be a while. I have to finish filling out these forms for Dr. Jacobs," she grimaced, giving him an apologetic look.

"I can wait."

"No, really, it's alright. I don't live far away, anyway. Just a few blocks. Some fresh air will do me good," she laughed.

"If you're sure. It's dark out. Don't want the Boogeyman to get you," he teased, nudging her shoulder.

Jemma chuckled, waving him off, "Go home, Brett. I'm not afraid of the dark."

"Alright, if you say so. Don't work too hard, Jemma. I'll see you Monday. 'Night."

"Goodnight," she called, watching his back as he headed toward the sliding doors and disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot. With a regretful sigh, she turned back to her paper work, glancing up at the various nurses and doctors attending to ill patients.

She finally finished up as the night shift began to trickle in, her jaw cracking wide with a yawn. She filed away the forms before grabbing her jacket and small brown leather satchel. Waving a quick goodbye at the nurse behind the front desk, she hurried out of the building, eager to take a hot shower and curl up in bed. She pulled on her jacket, zipping it up as she turned left and made her way down the street. Her small apartment was about a mile away. Though it was fairly lonely, it was cozy and something to look forward to after a long day.

Jemma was pretty accustomed to being alone. She was made an only child when she was eleven. Both her mother and her older brother were involved in a fatal car crash and she received the bad news when her father came to pick her up early from soccer practice one day. His face was ashen and the hollow look in his eyes was haunting; the image would forever be burned into her memory. Now, her father was in his fifties and lived alone about an hour away. She stashed a mental note to call him and see how he was doing as soon as she found the time.

Both of her parents had been only children and her grandparents had died many years ago. Her grandfather on her mother's side had long outlived his wife, whereas her grandfather on her father's side had never returned home from the Vietnam war. It seemed like her family was cursed to live out their lives lonely. It was disturbing to her to think that it was as though she were destined to be alone. All she had left was her father, and her father, her. The idea that someone could be so easily taken from her was frightening.

Jemma lifted her tired blue eyes as she passed under a street light and was bathed in it's dull yellow glow. She idly noted a shadowy figure leaning against the front wall of a restaurant that had closed for the evening. The thought quickly faded from her mind as a breeze rose up to swathe her in cool air. A light tremor went down her spine as she crossed her arms over her chest and walked a little faster, her mind set on that nice, warm shower.

She made a right at the next corner, questioning why she had been in such a chipper mood that morning and had walked instead of taking her car. Lifting a hand to stifle a yawn, she noticed another figured outlined against the side of a different building. Strange. Normally, she didn't see this many people on the days she walked home. With a faint shrug to herself, she continued on, her apartment building in sight now.

Passing by the man, she glanced over to offer a friendly smile as well as keep an eye on him; she was wary of shady strangers. Her smile faltered and her heart immediately began to thunder in her chest as the man lifted his head. Red eyes and a crisp white smile were glowing back at her from within the shadows. She exhaled a puff of air and quickly turned her eyes forward, the skin on the back of her neck prickling as though to warn her.

With her teeth clenched, she risked a glance back behind her, and was relieved, and even more startled, to see no signs of the man. Blaming it on her tired mind concocting things that simply weren't there, she determined that she needed more sleep. Tricks of her mind be damned, she quickened her pace once more and didn't slow down until the door to her apartment building was firmly shut behind her. She let out a soft breath of relief and headed over to a wall lined with tiny silver doors. She fished her keys out of her bag and unlocked one of the doors, quickly snatching out her mail and locking the box once more.

Jemma opted for the elevator and flipped through the envelopes as she rode up to the second floor, her eyes scanning through the junk mail and bills. She stepped into the hallway as the doors slid open, making her way to her apartment. Muffling a yawn, she unlocked her door and pushed it open before closing it behind her and twisting the lock. Flicking on the lights as she went, she dumped her things on the small dining table, tossed her jacket over the back of a chair, and paced into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

The overhead light flickered and she stopped just short of the refrigerator, her fingers on the handle. With a frown, she tried to remember if she had any spare light bulbs as she tugged open the door. Abruptly, all three lights she had just turned on flashed off with a dull hiss. She could hear them rattling in their sockets. The only light cutting into the pitch black was the dim yellow emanating from the tiny bulb in the refrigerator, and a moment later, it, too, went dark.

Jemma was rooted to the spot, her eyes darting around her dark apartment. The building must have lost power. But, why then could she hear the light bulbs shaking? She carefully stepped away from the icebox and set the cold chicken salad she had grabbed down on the counter. Just as she leaned down to rummage for a flashlight, a single light attached to the fan in the living room turned on. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she tried to force down the uneasiness she felt and grabbed the flashlight just in case. As she straightened back up, she heard the deadbolt on her door snap back into the confines of the cylinder. Her heart plummeted from her chest as the sound resonated through the apartment. No one else had a key, not even her father. A soft whine escaped her lips as the light in her living room blinked out again. She turned and began running her hands over her counters, searching for her knife block. Her fingers bumped the side of the wood and she brushed her hands up the sides and over the various handles until she reached the chef's knife.

The door to her apartment crashed open and slammed against the wall. Jemma spun around, turning on the flashlight in the hopes of blinding the intruder. The man standing in her doorway was tall, far taller than her five foot nine stature. The black button-up he wore skimmed his arms and chest, hinting at the well-toned body it hid. His shirt was tucked into crisp black slacks, and the polish on his black dress shoes glinted in the light. Fear prickled her spine as she stared at the man. He cracked a cocky smile at her, his blood colored eyes flickering in the light shined on him. He casually ran his fingers through his raven-colored hair, his other hand stuffed into his pocket. He broke eye contact with Jemma to close the door and flip the lock. All of the lights in the apartment flashed on once more.

Jemma backed herself into a corner, holding the knife with two hands out in front of her, the flashlight rocking back and forth on the floor where she had dropped it. She watched the man with nervous eyes as he took his time to pick his way over to her. He stopped a few feet short, rocking forward on his toes as he regarded the trembling woman before him, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Sorry for the theatrics," he apologized, his voice rich and deep. His eyes drug over the length of her before he stared at the center of her chest, listening intently to the frantic beating of her heart.

Jemma's hands shook as she angled the knife at him, "What do you want?" she demanded, the threat of tears evident in her voice. She could feel moisture stinging the backs of her blue eyes as her mind ran through all the horrible possibilities of what the man was here for. Her body filled with dread as he lifted his eyes back to hers.

In a silent blur, the man pinned her against the wall with his own body, her head hitting the wall and the knife clattering uselessly to the floor a few feet away. She could feel his heart thrumming rapidly in his chest, much faster than her own accelerated heart rate. It was like his body was humming and vibrating from the rapid beating. She could feel his impossibly hot skin through both their layers of clothing. His touch was burning, as though he were running a deadly high fever. The fingers of his left hand dug into her hip, and his right hand trailed up her side before he yanked down the sleeve of her scrub shirt. He cast her a frightening grin, never opening his mouth to answer her question.

Jemma was paralyzed, glued to the spot. Fear spread to the very tips of her toes. She couldn't move. She couldn't push him away. She just stood there, trembling as she gazed up into his merciless red eyes. The tears she could no longer fight trickled down her cheeks as frightened and regretful thoughts swirled in her mind. Was he going to kill her? Would her body be found? She wouldn't even get to say goodbye to her father.

She closed her eyes as the man bent his head down toward her shoulder, tears leaking from beneath her lids. She felt his lips hot against her shoulder, surprisingly gentle and pliant. He pulled his mouth away fractionally, and she felt something straining and pushing and fighting to escape through her skin. Confusion contorted her features as she felt her body growing weak and her shoulder going numb. It felt like the man's heated skin was cooling off and lowering to a more normal temperature. His heart was slowing to a regular rate.

The man dug his fingers more firmly into her hip and pressed her tighter against the wall, enjoying the taste of her sweet soul for the first time.