I could feel the vodka burning in my chest, warming me to my toes. My head felt encompassed by cotton wool, and every step taken was fuelled by immense concentration as I willed myself to stay upright in my wickedly high shoes. My best friend Noah and I rounded the corner onto Little Collins Street, giggling and clutching each other's arms. My ears were still ringing from the pounding music of the club, but a more pressing matter was the overwhelming desire for a McDonald's cheeseburger in my heightened state of intoxication.
I pushed my bedraggled hair from my eyes and looked up, my gaze settling onto an artist sprawled across the pavement under a pool of light, his hand flurrying across the concrete in a blur. Noah and I grew quiet as we passed the man, both of us peering avidly over his shoulder to his piece. I heard myself gasp, and saw from the corner of my eye Noah's jaw dropping. The hurried lines of chalk scoured into the footpath before us were so precise, so carefully applied that I felt almost a part of the image. It was a 3D image that caused one to perceive that part of the ground had been cracked open, leaving a gaping hole in which it was possible to see human figures crawling up jagged walls towards the surface, behind them the fires of hell reared its horrifying head.
Noah leaned toward me, speaking low out from the corner of his mouth. "Is it just me," he said, "or are you feeling a little nauseous also?" Noah had an intense fear of heights, the picture was so life-like he felt the need to shuffle back, snaking a clammy hand down to clasp my own. I patted his shoulder comfortingly, nodding.
"I know it's ridiculous." The artist suddenly wheeled around, his long, matted hair flying. He glared at me, eyes bloodshot and the palest blue, almost indistinguishable from the whites of his eyes. His pupils were pinpoints, giving him an otherworldly likeness.
"What did ye say?" he snarled. His breath was tainted with whiskey and something else I couldn't identify. I wrinkled my nose and took a step back. His hands were shaking, stained with colour and dirt. His pants were dusty and worn in at the knees. I don't like to admit it, but at that moment I was frightened.
"I meant it's ridiculous how life-like it is, I haven't seen anything like it." I gabbled. "Ridiculous as in amazing," I clarified.
"Ok, well we need to go now." Noah announced, putting an arm around me and pushing me in front of him so I was obscured from the artist's view. He gave me a sharp shove to get moving. After we had put a safe distance between us and the artist, Noah rounded on me. "Girl, do you want to get us stabbed?" he raised his eyebrows, exasperated. "You know the world is crazy, and the city is even crazier."
"I know, I know." I sighed, reaching into my coat pocket for my phone. My fingers scratched at the bottom of the pocket, coming up empty. My eyes widened and I plunged both hands into each pocket, then ripped open my purse only to find cash, my Myki, perfume and lipstick. No phone. "Please, Noah," I turned to him, raking a hand through my hair, "please tell me I asked you to hold onto my phone for me."
He stared at me for a moment. "No," he shook his head slowly, his golden hair curling into his eyes.
"No!" I groaned. "I must have left it at the bar. For god's sake!"
"Relax, Avery," Noah whipped his own phone out. "I'll call and see if anyone picked it up. Or maybe it's on you but you're too drunk to realise."
"I'm not drunk," I snapped. A crack in the footpath caused me to stumble and Noah shot me a raised eyebrow. "It was the floor," I protested.
"Just calm down, ok? We'll find it." I must have looked disheartened, because he ducked his head to my level and pinched my cheek. "Hey," he said softly. "Cheer up, it will be fine. Ok, Avie?"
I nodded. "Could you ring the bar and see if anyone handed it in, please?" Though I seriously doubted it, no one was going to hand in a nice, shiny new phone.
"Sure." We began to retrace our steps, my eyes glued to the floor, twisting my necklace around my fingers as Noah spoke into his phone. I started to slow as I realised we were nearing the artist once more, who was furiously scribbling. His muttering was growing louder and louder until he was almost shouting at his artwork. Noah pocketed his phone, his dark eyes growing wary. The man's wheezing slurs were carried by the wind, whirling around us, filling our ears and causing our hair to whip against our cheeks. "Bloody smackhead," Noah shook his head. "Maybe you should stay here while I'll go have a look."
I caught his sleeve before he could leave. "Don't be stupid. We'll just walk straight past, heads down. No stopping, no comments. Ok?"
Noah picked up my hand, and placed it into the crook of his arm. "Ok."
We walked swiftly, spines straight, heads forward. My heels clicked against the ground and the air, rapidly cooling, curled around my bare legs like frosty fingers caressing my skin. We came near enough to smell the foul odour that emanated from his skin. I squeezed Noah's arm. In response he nudged me with his elbow. He nudged me again, urgently this time. I looked up at him, frowning. He cocked his head to his right. My eyes followed the direction, until they sought out my glossy, black phone resting on the footpath, barely a foot behind the artist. I swallowed heavily and took a step forward, only to be roughly dragged back by Noah, who sent me the 'are you crazy?' look. I shook my head and put a finger to my lips before disentangling my hand from his and carefully picking my way over to the man.
"Just a bit more, I'm almost done. Red, more red. Almost done. Don't sleep, don't cry. Almost done. Be done, be finished, be free." The man was muttering manically, his words stringing together incoherently. Violent, nervous energy radiated from his entire being. He was close enough that if he turned around we'd be nose to nose. With excruciating care I lowered myself into a crouching position, hand, trembling slightly, creeping forward until my fingers skimmed over the smooth case of my phone. The smallest sigh escaped me as my fingers closed around it. I inched backwards in time to see the artist scrawl what appeared to be his signature on the bottom left hand corner in charcoal, before he spun around, almost trampling me. His hands, spattered with colour, roughly grasped the lapel of my coat and hauled me up to my feet.
"It's finished, it's finished. Look, open your eyes. It's finished, I will be free, I will be free, you will not be." I almost passed out as his breath choked me, his strange eyes boring into my own. Faint tremors began to run through my body, causing my teeth to chatter. Only a moment had passed before Noah was already there, wrenching the man's hands off me and thrusting me behind his body. His face was tight with anger and fear as he faced up to the artist. However the man's attention was drawn elsewhere.
"Avery," Noah, backed us both away while the man's back was turned. "Avery, are you alright?" I tried to nod, but the trembling was growing increasingly violent, making it hard to stay upright. Noah began to stumble also. It was then I realised it wasn't me who was shaking, but the ground beneath us.
"What's happening?" I gasped, throwing my hands out as the earth gave a roar, jerking the ground away from under our feet. I lost my footing and hit the ground hard, my stupid heels hanging off my feet. Noah, on hands and knees, crawled closer to me, wrapping a hand around my upper arm and trying to heave me up with him. The ground shook again, and he fell on top of me. His weight caused the air in my lungs to disappear.
"Earthquake," he panted, eyes wide. He scrambled off me, looking wildly around. Several scattered, shocked screams pierced the night, car horns were blaring. Flipping my hair from my face, I kicked off my heels and picked them up, staggering to my feet. Crowds of city goers were streaming out of clubs and bars and spilling onto the streets, jostling past roughly. I was losing sight of Noah.
"Noah!" I shrieked, stumbling back as a young woman lost her footing and seized the material of my coat for support. Her muttered apology was lost by a deafening rumble and the shattering of thousands of windows. The crowd ducked their heads and threw up their hands, shielding themselves from the shards that sprinkled to the asphalt.
As the downpour eased off I raised my head, scanning the sea of faces. The woman was still clutching onto my coat, her fair hair dusted with glass. She cast me a fearful look before releasing me and disappearing into the crowd. Gingerly, I stooped to set my heels on the ground and stepped into them, careful of the glass that iced the pavement. With the extra few inches added to my height, and careful to take short, cautious steps, I sought to find Noah.
Instead, I found chaos.
The concrete beyond the panicked mass was split open. In place of the artist's work was a wide gash in the earth that bled heat and fire like a wound. To my disbelieving eyes, figures poured from the crevice. A strange hush swept over the crowd as one by one, each turned from their terror and watched, mouths agape. Watched as hands clawed up out of the painting, hauling both humanoid and animalistic shapes from its depths.
Dozens of silhouettes stood at the edge of the cleft, waiting in eerie silence. In my peripheral vision I saw many exchange bemused glances as they struggled to decide whether this was merely an outstanding trick. I found myself wondering the same thing, however a small, quieter part of my mind voiced that no one could possible go to such lengths. From the far corners of the crowd came uncertain applause.
Between one blink and the next, the figures surged forward into the crowd. The people around me were slow to react, still torn in believing it was all an act. I felt my jaw drop as each figure delved into the throng and seized individuals roughly, dragging them kicking and screaming into the shadows. Shouts rose into the night, loud cries that echoed until the streets were filled once again with pandemonium. I was shoved to the side, receiving a jab to the ribs as horror stricken strangers fought to escape.
My heels slipped on the ground, dusted with glass, as I dove to the side of the road. With my back against the tall building, I screamed for Noah. Through the screeching, the awful wailing and the many hurried footsteps, I heard my name.
Finally I spotted his blonde head through the blurred mob, locking my eyes with his at the same moment he found mine. He motioned for me to stay where I was, setting his jaw in determination and ploughing through the crowd. His height was an advantage and he dodged and weaved between people, unafraid of the possibility of being trampled. When he was close enough I threw out my hand for him to grasp, pulling him to me. He clutched my shoulders, ducking his head to my level. "Hey, are you ok?" His voice had a ring of authority I had never heard before. I nodded, my voice lost. His hand touched the side of my face briefly before his dark eyes narrowed, glancing over his shoulder.
"We need to get out, now." He stated, planting a hand in the middle of my back and pushing my body in front of his, propelling us forward. "My sister lives only a few blocks from here, we'll hide out there." Pulling my coat around me, I finally gathered my wits and began to run, Noah right behind me. Even in high heels, I managed to hold my own in a race, and that moment was no exception. My limbs were frozen, but adrenaline was beginning to course through my veins, driving me forward.
A dark form dropped from the sky in front of us, stopping us dead in our tracks.
I backed into Noah's chest, a squeak leaving my throat. The being in front of us stood tall, his silhouette strong and quick even when motionless. He took a step forward and raised his head as the street lamp illuminated his features, revealing tousled hair as dark as the sky, and teeth bared in a wicked smile that promised nothing but trouble. Noah and I were speechless, appraising this man who had dropped from the sky like a dark angel. All of a sudden, movement like that of a snake, the dark stranger's arm darted forward, grasping at the material of Noah's shirt and tossing him aside as if he weighed no more than a plastic chair. I screamed in shock, watching wide eyed as he bounced across the road, and coming to a stop amongst the scattered glass. Lunging to the side, I reached for him, my breath rasping in my throat.
"Ah ah," the man chided, hooking an arm around my waist and yanking me back. I couldn't breathe under the weight of my pounding heart. He towered over me, his glorious face twisted into a snarl, his eyes dancing red as if in them was trapped firelight. My wrist felt frail and tiny encompassed in his searing, relentless grip as he yanked my arm above my head, pinning it to the wall above me and eradicating escape.
"Pretty girl," he crooned, his voice like velvet wrapped around a blade, "where do you think you're going?" His broad shoulders blocked out the night sky as he backed me into the grimy wall of the high rise. My mouth grew unbearably dry, failing to form a scream, though my single scream would do little against the mayhem of the street.
"Don't touch me," I croaked, raising my chin in an act of defiance, praying he wouldn't notice the shaking in my knees. His horrifying red, flickering eyes narrowed in amusement as he deliberately placed both palms against the wall on either side of me, caging me in. Fear coated my tongue in a grotesque parody of honey, alarm bells ringing throughout my skull.
"Hmm, you're feisty aren't you?" he chuckled darkly, tilting his head to the side. Abruptly, his hand flew to my throat in a blurring motion, cutting off my air supply. Just as swiftly he whipped his hand away from my skin with a hiss, clutching his palm in bewilderment. I took the fleeting opportunity and rammed the sharp point of my shoe into the top of his foot, while simultaneously thrusting the heel of my palm upwards into his nose when he flinched. I ducked beneath him, running full pelt across the shards of glass, registering Noah's absence as I immersed myself into the horde. Heavy footfalls pounded against the pavement, his breath a cold whisper at the nape of my neck. Risking a glance over my shoulder I saw him, his nose streaming and any pretence of humour replaced with cold fury.
Fear rose up from my chest out through my throat in a long withheld scream; it was not a cry for help, but merely my terror voiced, having already consumed my body with no room to breathe. I was torn between my desperation to find Noah and escape, and the immediate need to save myself from my terrifying pursuer.
I lost my footing, my momentum sending me sprawling across the pavement. I gasped as the glass cut at my palms, my left ankle throbbing from the impact. I turned to see what had sent me flying, my findings leaving my stomach in turmoil.
The fair haired woman who had clutched at my coat in fear as the earth opened was lying across the pavement, her cheeks sparkling with glass, green eyes wide and unseeing in death. Her skin had turned a greyish shade of pale and red crescent moons were stamped along her arms and neck. It took me a long moment to realise what they were: bite marks.
A guttural moan of horror escaped my lips as I tried to find my feet, to distance myself from such a grotesque image. I heard his laugh, smooth and sinister and sending shivers down my spine. Raising my head I met his strange eyes, glowing through the tangle of his hair. I balled my fists at my side, ready to swing them into action. "What happened to her," my voice sounded braver than I felt. I swallowed air, trying to will myself to stay calm. "And while we're at it who the fuck are you?"
"What do you think happened, little girl?" he didn't pause in his predatory stalk, encroaching in on my personal space until only a thin margin of air separated us. He ran a hand through my hair, the short waves catching in his fingertips, "she was somebody's midnight snack." I fought the impulse to vomit, struggling to step back out of his grip.
His tightened his hand into a fist, holding me fast by the roots of my hair, as his other arm stretched across my back, locking me in his menacing embrace. His lips curled back from perfectly white teeth, their purity a contrast to his inner corruption. His smooth lips edged closer to my skin, and as they did I felt my energy begin to wane; my legs trembled, knees buckling in an effort to hold my weight, and my head lolled back, heavy and hazed with fog. I felt the blood in my veins run cold as every ounce of strength seemed to seep from my bones. "And by the way, you can call me Patch." His lips pressed softly against the base of my neck, and at that brief touch I turned limp in his arms. His arms wound tighter around my body, supporting me against him as the world flickered to black.
He dropped me abruptly, the impact of the asphalt under my cheek causing my eyes to snap open. The world was tilted at a disconcerting angle. I attempted to lift my head and right the image, but dizziness almost pulled me under. My captor was grappling with another dark figure, this one hunched in a distorted imitation of a human being. My bones felt liquefied, all I could do was simply watch on in horror. The other man swung his fist in the direction of my assailant, Patch's, face. Patch ducked swiftly, allowing me a glimpse of the newcomer's face. I felt my jaw drop, throat constricting around a scream: the hunched figure's face was drooped, his skin giving the appearance of a horribly deformed wax model. His teeth were filed to razor points, from which a forked tongue darted across. He sensed my horrified attentions and sent a leer in my direction, his flame-filled eyes devouring me in a way that made my skin crawl.
When the thrust of his elbow evaded Patch's block, the second creature landed his blow square in the other man's chest. As Patch staggered back, winded, the creature slithered to where I lay, his mouth a crude version of a smile. "What a tasty treat," his voice rasped like fingernails skating down a chalkboard. I dug my heels into the ground, attempting to put distance between us, but he flung a mangled hand hard across my cheek, the slap resounding within the walls on my skull. My body flew back at the impact, my head cracking across the concrete. My cheek was burning, stinging as the creature loomed above me, seeming to materialise from thin air. He snatched my arm up, examining my fingers, the small nails painted black. "My favourite: finger food," he chuckled, before closing his mouth over my index finger, the points of his teeth pricking my skin. I shrieked, my heart reaching exploding point, before he was plucked away from me, his mouth wrenched from my fingertips. The dark angel had his back to me, his shoulders tense as he dug his fingers into the creature's jaw.
"You like finger food do you?" Patch snarled, his velvet voice furious. "Then chew on this." I watched in terror as the muscles of his arms swelled and he pulled the creature's jaw apart. An awful scream came from the creature's throat before a sharp crack of bones replaced it. Patch threw the creature from him in disgust, watching the jaw swing off its hinges. Instead of retaliating, as was the desire burning in the creature's eyes, it turned and ran, leaving me alone on this now deserted road with only the stranger and the dead woman as company.
Sirens began to wail in the distance. Patch turned his head a fraction to watch me from the corner of his eye. My chest was rising and falling with rapid procession, but apart from that I dared not make a move. A deranged giggle travelled down to us. Both Patch and I looked to the source. The creature with the mangled jaw stood in the distance, teetering on the precipice of the painting. As we stared, our gazes mottled with confusion, the thing lifted a hand and waggled his fingers in a parody of a wave, curtsied and promptly stepped back into the painting, falling through it like a rock seconds before the ground sealed itself off, the light and heat evaporating and leaving the street in darkness.
I'm back! New story with my own original characters and the gorgeous, sexy Patch, of course! I hope you guys like it and want me to continue, let me know in the reviews!