Disclaimer: Loosely based on the characters and genius of Anne Rice.
Immortal
Chapter 1
Faith bolted down the still bustling nighttime streets of New Orleans, dodging people as she went. She turned a corner, narrowly avoiding running into a tall man with a long brown coat. Instead, she collided with a short, squat woman with a tight gray bun. The woman threw her a look of contempt and stalked off, muttering dark curses. Breathless, Faith slowed her pace to a walk. She glanced behind her. Only the crowd, oblivious to her dilemma, met her eyes. She sighed with relief, and continued toward her apartment. As she stepped crossed the street, she noticed the familiar shadow keeping pace with her across the street. She ducked into the nearest alley and darted to the other end. The homeless man at the end grumbled when she jumped over his legs. She gave him a hurried apology and kept running. She didn't need to look back to know she was still being pursued.
As she turned the corner onto the next street, she knocked over a trashcan, causing a racket which echoed down the alley. The same homeless man yelled, but she kept running. She could feel herself winding down. It had been too long since she'd been to the gym. She turned down another alley and slowed to a stop. She leaned against a wall. Turning, she found herself face to face with the dark figure she'd been running from.
The apparition was tall and clothed in a long, black, hooded cloak. The rest of its features were hidden in shadow. That is, all but its eyes, which glowed an eerie, piercing blue that sent chills down her spine. She froze in place, staring with defiance into its eyes. Fear melted away her bravado. She wanted now more than anything to run, but could not move. Her mind raced, but her legs stayed where they were. Panic began to set in. And suddenly, she was free.
Her legs now moved for her. Before she could even fully comprehend what had happened, Faith was only a block away from home. Dodging a group of smoking teenagers, she turned up her street and nearly flew up the porch stairs to her small townhouse. She fumbled with her keys before unlocking the door and entering. Once inside, she locked the deadbolt and fell into a heap on the floor. What does that thing want with me? She thought. She still shook with terror and adrenaline.
Standing up, she started to meander through the house, savoring its silence, while at the same time, despising it. She grabbed her iPod off the kitchen table and turned it on. She wandered up the stairs to her room. The music slowly began to calm her nerves. She mouthed the words to the song as she turned on the light. Her bed welcomed her as she stretched out and shoved her face between the pillows.
She took her book from the bedside table and was beginning to read when she realized that she wasn't alone. She didn't need to look around to know that no one was actually there, but she could feel the now familiar presence. As she stood, she put her book down. She left the room and crept down the stairs as quietly as she could. Without really thinking about it, she checked each room, knowing she wouldn't find him there. Nothing seemed to be wrong in the kitchen or office, so she went into the living room and looked around.
Suddenly, she ripped the headphones out of her ear, and stood in the center of the room, looking at the front door. No sound came from it, but she knew he was there. Against her better judgment, she cautiously approached the door, placing one of the headphones back into her ear. With one hand, she touched the door. His cold presence felt stronger even through the thin barrier.
Slowly, Faith opened the door. Instantly, she regretted it. The sinister creature stood in front of her, eyes glowing brighter than ever. Once again, she found herself unable to move. The music played on, though she no longer heard it. Her mind was fixed on the figure that stood in front of her. She thought about closing the door before it decided to chop her up with a hacksaw and all that remained of her was a newspaper headline. Before she could even try to move, though, the phantom began to reach up, revealing two long-fingered white hands tipped with nails like glass. It touched her face gently. She shivered. The hand then moved to his hood. He began to remove it.
Faith woke with a start, gasping for breath, and sitting in a pool of sweat, the song on her iPod still running through her mind. She slowly became aware that she was shaking, and that tears stained her cheeks. Nervously, she scanned the room. Noticing nothing and no one, she unsteadily crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. She rinsed her face with cold water, and grabbed the towel next to the sink. She dried her face, before looking at her reflection in the mirror.
The person she saw startled her. Her black hair, normally straight and hanging to the middle of her back, was mussed and tangled from her fitful sleep. Her green eyes stood out harshly from her tan skin. Even with her lively color, she looked sick. She brushed her long fingers through her hair, which hardly accomplished taming the mess. Staring into her own eyes, she leaned on the counter.
Thank God that was only a dream, she thought. Now if only I could believe it. Sighing, she went back to her room and crawled back under her warm, soft quilt.
She thought about her dream. This hadn't been the first time she'd had it. In fact, it had come to her four times in the past week. Each time was slightly different, but the apparition was always there.
She pushed what she had seen from her mind. There was no way she would sleep if she kept thinking about that nightmare. It was just a dream, she thought, to try to convince herself. Just a dream… Closing her eyes, she tried to get back to sleep. Or was it…?