"It's getting colder."
It was pushing at her cheeks, the cool puffs of air that were the wind. There was something close by, though, something that was not the wind …
"Who's there?"
Nothing, no answer. Shifting, breathing but not taking in breath, hushed. She wasn't thinking clearly, if she had been, the next thing she would have said would have been 'WHY THE FUCK AM I IN A FUCKING CORN FIELD?!?!?!?!'
"Hello?" It was getting colder. The stalks of corn, blue-silver in the moon, swayed in the growing force of the breeze. The moon itself was a cold, glowing disk of neptune, floating solitary and uncaring high above. Something off to her left moved again, against the motion of the corn.
"It's here." He whispered, his lips close to her ear, his breath comforting wave of warmth in the sea of chill. She shuddered,
"What?"
That's when his hand closed on hers, what should have been warm was cool, there was nothing of heat inside. She flinched, once, the fingers laced through her felt unnatural, and then The thing made it's move. She could hear it coming towards them. The wings of something mighty and unholy beat the air, and then, among the stalks swaying so loftily, it was standing. Sucking in a sharp breath that was like a stab of ice into her chest, she felt her entire body tighten with fear, she wanted to bolt, but her comrade's hand in hers made her want to stay.
The moon glanced off of the thing's eyes, they glowed a bright and milky blue, it's body was composed mostly of grey, lumps scattered over it like scales, wings, grotesque and leathery folding at it's back.
"Run." Her friend breathed, and she did, never letting go of his hand, she raced down one row of corn, following his lead as he pulled her into another, above, something great beat it's wings, searching. She knew that running would only prolong the chase, she knew it had to take one of them, she knew it would find them eventually. They ran still, zigzagging through the corn like mice in a maze, for that was what they were, ultimately, feed for the predator above. And then, they turned a corner, and it was waiting. She choked back a scream, and it seemed to grin. Lunging at them, it caught them both by the neck, a deep gurgling hiss erupting from it's throat. She gulped, struggled for air, heart pusing rapidly inside her, tears were coursing hopelessly over her chin; one of them was going to be taken, it would be worse if it was her comrade. She was so afraid.
It's face was on her neck, her cheek, her hair, sliding across her flesh as it inhaled her smell into unnatural lungs, then it was on Him, again, the rasping sound of it's inhalation. From deep within it, a predatory growl issued forth, and then it's tongue was on her throat, below her jaw, on her face. She shuddered in disgust and fear. She only realized she had been holding hands with her companion still when It threw him down and she lost contact with him. The creature snaked it's disgusting, clammy arms around her neck and waist, and beat the air with it's wings once, gaining lift. And then the helpless cry came from her, tearing into the dark, the corn watched them, silent. Her friend was screaming her name, and she was screaming his as she was pulled away into the night by her unholy agressor;
"DARRY!!!"
"Nguh!" Meredeth Raike (Known only as 'Deth' to basically the entire planet) woke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, staring down at her tear soaked pillowcase-- generic, black-- for a few moments as she tried to catch her breath. The dorm room was silent, and so she was almost sure her roommate had gone out on one of his late-night barhops, but then as her breathing quieted, she began to hear the gentle throb of his snoring. She hoped to God she had not cried out in her sleep as she slowly slid out of her bed, turning to face his. There he lay, Darius Jenning in all of his masculine glory-- legs sprawled over the matress, face squashed against his pillow-- a steady circle of drool forming around the side of his face. The sheets were twisted around his calves but the blanket had fallen to the floor-- revealing him to be clad only in a pair of tighty-whities underpants, his name stitched into the elastic band. She couldn't help but surpress a smile-- the cotton that was once white was now pink, the washing-machine prank had been pulled on many a college freshman. "You goob." She muttered, picking the blanket up off the floor and tossing it back up onto him in a most nonchalant manner. Deth studied his sleeping form, lean, shadow-soft, and rolled her eyes. To think, this boy was giving her the heebie-jeebie nightmares that had kept her awake for the past few weeks. She sighed, rubbing her temples, and pulled on a pair of red-plaid cotton pajama bottoms that she had thrown on the floor. The spring was already warm, warm enough to make her want to sleep in just a tank-top and underwear. In her dorm. With Darry. In the dorm. She left the room as quietly as she could.
Deth was in the co-ed bathroom, smoking a cigarette back by the showers, when she heard the door swing open and then bang shut. Grumbling to herself, she put her lips to the filter and inhaled one last time, and then ground it out on the tile, getting to her feet and heading out towards the door, hoping that she could slip out of the bathroom without being identified. But the early-morning intruder was looking at himself in the mirror. Apparently he was checking his face for blemishes, turning it this way and that, picking at it.
"Well, if I had known it was you, I wouldn't have put it out." She came up behind him, snapping the elastic at the waist of his pajama bottoms teasingly as he turned to smirk at her.
"That's why I made sure you didn't know." He responded. "Those things'll give you LUNG CANCER." He emphasized lung cancer with by raising his voice and giving her shoulder a hard poke.
"Darry, you're such a retard." She yawned, stretched, her back popping as she arched it. He chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah…" He muttered, going back to his reflection. "Why are you up so damn early?"
"Newsflash, it's 8:00." She pointed to the round face of the clock mounted above the door. "It's only early to lazy bastards like you." Deth withdrew her pack of Newports from her pajama bottoms and pulled out another cigarette, tucking it between her lips.
"Not on Saturday Morning, it's not." He continued to study his pores in the mirror. "Besides, you were up a lot earlier than that, yelling my name!" He bagan to giggle, letting his hands drop and looking at her reflection with a goofy grin on his face. She growled, flicked her lighter on and lit her cigarette. Inhaling, she put one hand on her hip.
"Well, it must have been a nightmare then."
"You don't remember? Ah, you were probably having that same old fantasy that every girl has--" He turned around and started to run his hands over himself, making noises like a hamster in heat. Actually, Deth assumed they were supposed to be girly-fantasy-moans. "Me, All. Night. Long." He closed his eyes and rubbed his own nipples-- for he was topless, as he always was when allowed to be. She made a disgusted facce, blowing a stream of smoke onto his his pale, tightly- muscled torso, interupting his act.
"No, fag, we were in a cornfield." She told him, just to shut him up.
"We did it in a Corn Field?! Wow, that's kinky!" Deth suddenly felt the great need to tell him of her nighttime visions, a somber nervousness crept up on her from beneath the annoyance that burned on her skin inexplicably. This usually made her laugh… but she wanted him to be serious.
"Darry, I--"
"Nature gal, I'll call you, yes, Dethy the na--"
"Just… stop." She interrupted him. Serves her right for trying to be serious with the same guy who wore her underwear on his head. Their relationship was an odd one-- sibling-like banter punctuated with moments of tenderness. Like her first birthday on campus-- she had had no friends close enough to really know or care about it, but when she had returned to the dorm that evening, Darry had been waiting with a dark-chocolate cupcake, decorated with icing in the shape of a demon, a lone newport standing out of it in place of a candle. He had given her the rest of the pack of cigarettes it had come from, of course, along with a birthday kiss and a silver pentacle pendant. She was wearing it now on a silver chain she had taken from another of her necklaces.
"All right, all right." He backed off, picking up his tooth brush and squeezing a dollop of toothpaste out onto it. Deth felt a great affection for him then, the simple gesture of him brushing his teeth, something only close kin get to see.
"We're friends, right?" She asked after a moment, approaching the subject of her dream again, moving foreward and ashing her cigarette in the sink.
"Yeth, why?" He mumbled through a mouth full of foam. He spit it out into the sink and looked at his roommate. "Something wrong, Dethy?" She hated that pet name WHEN USED BY ANYONE BUT HIM. When He used it she felt like she should-- like his adored pet..
"Nothing… just… the dream. It's not the first time I've had it. I kind of wanted to talk to you about it."
"Jesus, a recurring nightmare got you spooked?" He grinned good-naturedly, rinsing his mouth out with a handful of water and spitting again.
"No… it's just… I wanted to know if you could help me figure out what it meant." She took another drag off of her cigarette, her jade eyes watching him.
"Sure. Spill, come to think of it, I needed to ask you something, too." He turned the water off and turned to look at her, attentive smile curving his lips upward. That's one thing she loved about him, he always payed attention to her when she needed him to.
"Well, we're in a cornfield, right?" Deth began, starting to pace, suddenly nervous. "And, at first I don't know you're there, it's just, there's a breeze, and then something moves. I yell to see who it is, but they don't answer. Then you come up beside me and tell me that 'It's here.'" She punctuated this with air quotes. If she had looked at Darry she would have seen the unease in his eyes, his disturbed expression. But she wasn't looking at him, she was staring at her cigarette. "And then, it comes at us, it… flies or something, and you grab my hand and tell me to run… but it finds us anyway. It's this disgusting man with grey skin all covered in lumps, and this brittle white ponytail and these needley teeth. But the worst thing was the wings, filmy and fleshy like a bat's…" She shivered, behind her, Darry's face had become terror-stricken, this was the same monster that had taken his sister, Trish, over his last spring break. "It grabs us, and it sniffs us… and at the end… " She turned around. "Darry?"
"How many times have you had this dream?" He asked, eyes wide, mouth agape.
"I don't know, four or five times a week for about three weeks, why? Are you all right?" Deth went to him, put a hand on his shoulder. "Dar?"
Only every twenty-third Spring…then why is she having this dream?
"I'm fine." He told her after a minute. "Hey, do you want to go out today, to the movies or something?" He asked a bit dejectedly, as if it was an anticlimax to their conversation. Deth raised on jet-black eyebrow, smirked.
"Like, a date?" She chided jokingly.
"Yes." Darry replied bluntly, and he seemed to really mean it, as if it had been his intention all along. Meredith stood there shocked, shocked by the complete seriousness of him. Something about her dream had disturbed him. Something had made life less humorous. She smashed her cigarette out in the sink.
"…Ookay…."
