"Come on," Natalie muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning for open spaces in the parking lot of her apartment building. Her shoulders were tensed and her hands gripped her steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. She had been on edge ever since she left work. An older man, late sixties, early seventies perhaps, known to most of the waitresses at Uncle Pat's diner as "Creepy Jim", had sat in a booth for several hours, drawing on napkins, drinking multiple pots of coffee, and casting leery glances at Natalie and her best friend, Stacia. When he had walked in, they had both walked as quickly as possible to the back to have a 'Rock-Paper-Scissors' battle over who would be waiting on him. After a round of best two out of three, Natalie had grudgingly agreed to wait on Creepy Jim if Stacia would take care of cleaning everything behind the bar once they closed. Two hours of feeling incredibly unnerved later, he had finally slipped out. Natalie had been so thankful that he was gone that she didn't even mind that he left without paying his bill. But when she stepped over to clean up his table, he had left several of his napkins behind. There were very crude drawings of her and Stacia. Disgusting. Quickly, she swept them off the table and into the trash, trying desperately to get the images out of her mind.
She and Stacia had spent the next hour cleaning the diner, refilling canisters and bottles, wrapping silverware for the next morning, and sweeping and mopping the floors. Natalie volunteered to stay and balance the drawer so that Stacia could leave early; that is, if leaving work at nearly 11:30 pm could be considered early. Stacia, although she typically lived with Natalie, was going home for the weekend. Their other two roommates, Clara and Bonnie, had already headed home for the summer. And as much as Natalie loved her roommates, she was looking forward to spending some time alone. Bonnie had been so busy with the rowing team she was on that they rarely saw her. And when they did, it was normally for about fifteen minutes late in the evening. Clara was going through boyfriend problems, and routinely stayed locked in her room, talking on Skype for hours. Stacia had been Natalie's best friend since middle school, to them it had only made sense to live together when they left for college, and for the most part, it had been a great decision. However, lately, Stacia had been distant. Except for when they were at work, Natalie never saw her, and their rooms were right next to each other. She supposed it had something to do with growing apart, but that didn't make losing her friend any easier.
When Natalie had finished balancing and turned off the lights to the diner, she grabbed her purse from under the bar, and stepped out into the night, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other. It wasn't that Edmond was a dangerous city, per say. It was that there were things that lived in the night that she didn't trust, and she wasn't about to leave herself defenseless. When she had moved to Edmond, her father, a police officer with 45 years of experience, had given her pepper spray, and asked that she not be alone too late into the evening. If he knew that she was walking out of her work past midnight alone, he'd be extremely unhappy with her. Which was precisely why she didn't tell him she did this on a regular basis. She got better tips when she worked later in the evening, and it made her feel important to get to close everything up for the evening.
Her senses were in overdrive as her eyes attempted to adjust to the dark. She had read once that fear caused all of the human senses to peak. It was cool; just cool enough to make her wish she had a jacket. Her shoes crunched across the gravel, and when she was a mere four or five feet from her car, she thought she heard someone behind her, crunching in the gravel. Breathing down her neck. Watching, waiting. Spinning on her heel, she searched the darkness, letting out a deep sigh when she didn't see anyone. Turning back to her car, Natalie unlocked the door as quickly as she could, slipped in to the seat, slammed the door shut, and locked it, all in one fluid motion. Letting out a sigh of relief, she dropped her bag in the passenger's seat, digging out her cell phone, and turned to put her keys in the ignition when there was a tap at her window. Letting out a blood-curding scream, she realized who was standing outside her window and felt her rage boil over. Creepy Jim. "Go away!" she yelled through the closed window. "I'm calling the cops." When she began unlocking her phone, Creepy Jim held up his hands in defense and backed away, defeated. Letting out a frustrated grunt, she dropped her phone in the cup holder, started her car, and had spun out of Uncle Pat's Diner parking lot in a cloud of dust and spinning tires.
And now she was scanning the parking lot of her apartment building desperate for a parking spot anywhere except for the back corner by the trees. Every time she parked there, she got the feeling that she was being watched by someone hiding just out of her line of vision. She knew during the day that the guy that lived above her hung out there. He was pretty harmless. Most of the time he wandered around looking for plants he could smoke. But in the evening, the trees took on a completely different aura. Less of a 'hang out and get high' and more of a 'something's here that shouldn't be' type feeling. But lo and behold, this seemed to be the evening that the only open space was centered directly in front of the densest portion of the trees.
Hesitating, Natalie almost considered parking out on the street instead of the parking lot. Then with a soft laugh at how ridiculous she was being, she pulled into the available spot and shut her car off. Stooping to retrieve her purse and phone, she stepped out of the car, locked her doors, and turned down the sidewalk towards her apartment.
Instantaneously, she felt it again. Eyes watching her close and lock her door and start the long walk towards her apartment. Turning slowly to face the trees, her heart beating furiously, she blinked in the dark, trying to get her eyes to adjust more quickly. It was oddly silent. No birds, crickets, lightening bugs...Just the occasional rustle of leaves. Something was in those trees and she wasn't going to wait around to find out what it was. Turning quickly, she walked with a quick clip towards her building, her heart pounding in her throat. Natalie stepped under the single light post in the parking lot, thankful for something to illuminate the space around her. Pausing to catch her breath, or rather to remind herself to breathe, she stepped forward. As she did, the light post flickered and died. A terrible sense of foreboding filled her body. Natalie slipped her keys between her fingers, making sure one was her house key to make entry quicker. Walking as quickly as she could, Natalie watched the ground. The last thing she needed was to trip and fall, making her an easier target for whatever was out there.
As she stepped off the sidewalk and towards her apartment, she froze, fear gripping her chest. There were two children standing in the grass outside her apartment, facing the windows. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to let the fear ebb away. They were children; young teens at most. They weren't going to be able to hurt her, and if she was going to be a teacher someday, the fear of children thing would have to go. Natalie tried to play off her fear as them surprising her. But she knew better. Something wasn't right about them. Two children around ages ten and thirteen standing out in the grass past midnight? They definitely didn't live in this complex, she knew that much. Maybe they were lost? Before she could speak, the two turned around. Both boys, the older one had dark hair and was clothed in jeans and a blue t-shirt. The younger one was blonde and in jeans and a white shirt. They were both incredibly pale, and stared at Natalie as if seeing through her. As an education major, her immediately instinct was to help them. Children, obviously in need, standing outside past midnight. But something just didn't feel right. And her father had always taught her that if she ever felt uncomfortable, to leave.
Fight or flight instinct kicked in and Natalie began edging towards her front door, her hands shaking furiously. Making sure to keep her eyes on the boys, she was just about to unlock the door when she felt a pulling urge to let them inside. It was then that she looked at their eyes. Fear rippled through her body and her senses went into overdrive. She was clawing at the door trying desperately to get it open, her hands shaking so hard she could barely get her key in the lock, all while trying to keep an eye on them. Their eyes were entirely black. No pupils or irises. No white, brown, blue, or green. Just black. As she got the door open and stepped inside, Natalie turned to swing it shut and froze, the two boys standing directly outside her door.
"We need to call our mother. Let us in to use your phone."
But before she could respond with a firm no, there was a flurry of movement out of her right field of vision. Two males came barreling towards her door, one pointing a gun at the two boys, the other yelling for her to get inside and close the door. So much had happened tonight that she stood unable to move, watching the scene unfold. The taller of the two males ran into her apartment, grabbing Natalie by the arm and pulling her into the apartment while the shorter of the two began shooting. Being grabbed by a large male that was now standing in the entrance of her home was enough to snap her out of her shock. Flight was gone. This was her home, and fight instinct was taking over.
Running back towards her bedroom, slip sliding across the rugs, she dove into her room, yanked open the middle drawer of her dresser, and pulled out the gun her father had given her when she moved in. Checking to verify that it was loaded, she turned and snuck back into the hallway, creeping towards where the two had been standing. She tried to remember, in spite of her terror, to calm her breathing and watch for any flurry of movement out of the rooms to her left and right as she made her way to the front of the apartment. As she approached the entrance of the apartment, both men were standing with their backs to her. The two black-eyed boys were gone. And they were stupidly unaware that she was standing behind them, armed. Raising the gun to eye level, she observed how they froze when she clicked off the safety. Then, vaguely aware of the moonlight glinting off the badge engraved in the side of the gun, she said firmly, "Who are you, and why are you in my house?"
