Condemned

"I was camping with my family and two best friends in the woods. That was earlier this month, before Spring Break. We had a long weekend, and the weather was beautiful. The woods were magnificent, trees, flowers, and bushes alike in full bloom. There was a river deep in the forest, and it was laughing merrily, fed by the melting snows from the mountains. We pitched camp next to it, near where the river met the lake. I woke late in the night – don't ask why, I don't know. I went and sat by the river's edge, dangling my bare feet in the frigid water, gazing up at the night sky. The sky was unbelievably clear and full of stars. The moon was full and luminous, an orb of silver glass. I lay back, looking at the constellations and telling myself their stories. I was almost asleep when I saw a black shadow flit across the moon. I figured it was just a bat and didn't think about it. That is, not until it came back. I could see its shape was humanoid, and it was getting bigger, coming closer. I sat up, curious, trying to see what it was. When I realized, I screamed. Not exactly from fear, but to warn the others. My friends and I knew the stories of the Creeper – every twenty-third spring for twenty-three days it gets to eat, and all that – but we never believed they were any more than campfire tales. Before I could run, Creeper was on me, holding me off my feet by my throat. He made this disgusting sniffing sound and seemed…surprised, somehow. Maybe because I wasn't afraid of him…I was afraid of what he would do. I didn't want to die, but I cared more for my family and friends who were just coming out of the tents behind me. Creeper just ignored them, focusing on me intently and with great interest. He licked my face, which was probably the grossest thing that has ever happened to me, and looked over my shoulder at my parents. My dad had his shotgun, but he just stared at Creeper, horror-struck and unbelieving.

" 'What the hell are you!' he demanded shakily. I think somehow he knew the gun in his hands would do him no good.

" 'Ana!' yelled my best friend Caitlin. 'Let her go, you freak!' Creeper just laughed and spread his wings so suddenly that I gave a start, causing me to choke against his hand. My dad cried out and raised his gun.

" 'No don't!' cried my other best friend, Courtney. 'It won't do any good! And you might hit Antares!' Dad didn't lower the gun, but he didn't shoot either. Something in me told me I wasn't going to last the night, and they wouldn't either if they didn't leave.

" 'I love you all,' I whispered. Suddenly Creeper wrapped both his arms around me, pinning me against him, and took flight. I reached down towards my family desperately, though I knew I could never reach them. I didn't scream again, or fight. If I fought and he did drop me, the fall would kill me anyway. Then again, at least that would've killed me quickly. I had to close my eyes to keep from being sick – I have this terrible fear of heights – and I just tried to think about anything other than dying by the monstrous hands of this creature who had abducted me. I'll never know where we went, but suddenly I was falling, sliding fast down a chute of some kind. I landed in a cavern that reeked of blood and death and pain. I looked around slowly, my eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. I wish to the gods that they hadn't. I saw them. The corpses of the others, all sewn together like some sort of human tapestry, hung on all the walls and ceiling. I was sick then, just as Creeper came down and joined me. I backed away from him, tried to run away, anywhere, but he caught me quickly, too easily. He held me still and leaned close to me. I tried to pull away from him – the smell was horrendous – but he was too strong. He began to make this sickening sucking noise, and I felt strange. I felt like part of me was being drained away, pulled out of me and into him, and I didn't like it. I felt weak, unable to fight soon. And I heard him telling me, from far away it seemed, that he wanted something from me that he couldn't get from anyone else. He didn't want an organ or a body part; to him those are a dime a dozen. He wanted my…spirit. That's what he was taking from me. That's what he takes from me every night, whether I like it or not. I can't get away from him. I can never escape."

Antares broke off and looked away. Darry was dumbfounded. How could he believe everything he had just heard? Then again, with everything he'd seen and heard, how could he not? He heard a strange, shuddering sound and looked up again. Antares was crying silently, her hand against her forehead, eyes closed.

"I knew better than to disobey him," she whispered, and it seemed she was not talking to Darry. "But to do what he did…just because of that…"

"What did he do?" asked Darry, trying to make his voice gentle. Antares didn't answer, just moved her right hand on her leg a little. Darry glanced down at it and stared in horror. He had been wrong when he assumed she had all her body parts – her right index finger was missing, cut clean off, not even a stump left where it had been as though it had never been at all.

"Oh my God," he said softly. "Oh my God."

"He doesn't care," said Antares bitterly. "In that you can trust." Darry looked at her again, wondering what he could possibly say.

'Well, for once, I don't see how you can make things any worse,' offered a voice in the back of his head. It wasn't exactly helpful. Uncertainly he scooted his stool over by her and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked back at him a little quizzically, then looked down and sighed.

"The things I've done," she said quietly. "The things he made me do…"

"What happened to you?" asked Darry wonderingly.

"He makes me find his hideouts when forces are rallied against him in one place," she answered emotionlessly. "He makes me help him stitch the bodies together, hang them up like decorations, destroy them when the time comes for us to leave. I tried to run away once and he caught me and brought me back. That time he only warned me that my punishment would be worse were I to try again. I was so desperate that I didn't heed him and ran again. That was the time I lost my finger. I nearly lost my whole damn hand because he refused to let me dress the wound and it got infected. He warned me that the next time he would make me beg for death, for sweet release that would never come. I haven't tried since." The phrase "Oh my God" was on Darry's tongue again, but he swallowed it. Slowly he put his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. She resisted at first, looking at him in surprise, but then slowly relaxed and leaned against him. They sat together thus for a time, each contemplating the mystery of the other. By and by, Darry spoke again:

"By the way," he said, "thank you." Antares looked up at him, a sculpted silver eyebrow cocked questioningly. "For saving my life," explained Darry.

"Oh," said Antares, understanding. "You're welcome."

"Why did you do that, anyway?" asked Darry. "Won't he…I mean…"

"Yes, he will," said Antares, almost in exasperation but not directed at Darry. "I don't care. I couldn't let him. I couldn't stand the screaming…" her voice trailed off for a moment and she gazed off into space. "I've never been in time to save any of them. Any of the victims. I almost saved Jason – poor Jason, whom you met under the church. His lungs…that's what Creeper took from him. But I was too late to save him. Then last night, I dreamed of Creeper's next victim. I heard that abominable song playing. I heard the horrible tortured screams mixing with the music in a demonic sort of symphony. And I saw the eyeless corpse of a brown-haired boy hanging in a factory basement; the first of many, undoubtedly. I couldn't let that happen. I sought a way to prevent it. I was the one who warned Creeper that the time to find a new hideout was nigh, and sought an abandoned factory somewhere nearby. I told him I wanted to stay there, away from him, until he came. He understood, knowing how I hate him. I've been waiting for him to bring you here all day. I couldn't let him kill you. I couldn't let him steal your eyes. Your eyes are beautiful; they don't belong in a face so hideous as his." Darry just blinked in surprise. No one outside his family had ever told him he had beautiful eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly, uncertainly. Antares nodded but didn't speak for a time.

"I only hope I didn't do you a great disservice in saving you," she said quietly. "The horrors of this life…of living like this…"

"No," said Darry gently but firmly. "I'd rather be alive. You've been alone all this time, but now there's two of us. Together, we might be able to-"

"No!" Antares pulled away and stared at him in shock and fear. "Don't even think it! I learned my lesson; I'm never running away again. I can't."

Darry just looked at her for a moment. "You couldn't do it alone," he said at last. "But you're not alone anymore. There has to be a way to get away from him. He's not here all the time, right?" Antares shook her head.

"He always knows where I am," she whispered. "Sometimes I think he can hear anything I say or think. I don't know how, but he always knows how to find me." She was absently scratching at a thin red scar on the crook of her arm and Darry looked at it with interest.

"What happened there?" he asked. She looked up at him, then down at her arm where he was pointing. She gave a small shrug.

"Dunno," she said. "It was just there one day when I woke up." She sighed and dropped her arms. Turning to face him, she said, "C'mon. Let's talk somewhere else, somewhere that doesn't reek of impending doom." At her beckoning gesture, Darry rose and followed her.