I have been walking for hours. I don't know where I am or where I'm supposed to go. Though I am sure I'm still in the neighborhood I grew up in, I am hopelessly lost. Not a single house on this block looks familiar. I wonder if I have fallen into some sort of second dimension while running away for my life. Maybe that was my stalker's intention, to lead me into this third world to get lost in so no one would hear me screaming when he finds me again. I shiver at the thought, then groan in pain and clench tightly onto my left forearm. Honestly, the hurt I feel all over my body is the only thing I care about right now. The thought of different dimensions seems ludicrous. I know I'm just tired. Once I get back to my house, I'll be alright. At least I hope.
The thought of my house sends a wave of misery through me. Will I ever get back home? Some part of me thinks I should have found it by now. There is still terror inside me from fear ever never getting back home, from never finding my parents, bleeding to death in this unfamiliar place with no one around to help me, but mostly from whoever was chasing me. Is here still out there? The thought makes my skin crawl.
As I walk around another corner, I realize I have gone in a complete circle from where I started, but my house is not on this side of the street. It has to be! I spin around at least twenty times, searching up and down for my childhood home. All the houses look the same on this block: quiet, dark, and creepy, but none of them mine. In a fit, I run (more like limp) up and down the street. Then something else strange happens. Where I know my house should be, I come across a cemetery instead. I know it was not there just a moment ago. I think I'm going crazy. That's it. I have to be out of my mind. None of this is real! I tell myself. My heart hurts from the rate that it's beating, like I'm about to have a heart attack. I feel about ready to collapse, but not before something else catches my eye.
In the thick fog of the cemetery, hovering over one of the graves stands a dark figure. I know it has to be a man. He's dressed in dark clothes with a top hat sitting on his head. For a moment, I think I'm having a nightmare. Did I walk into a set from Jeepers Creepers? Then I hear a loud clanking noise and I notice the man not only standing over the grave, but digging in it. I watch in horror as he throws a small shovel aside and pulls the dead body of a young girl from the ground. I'm in too much pain to run, too shocked to move at all. I hold my breath, for too long. I feel lightheaded and my body wobbles in the swirl of my surroundings. Because I have little strength left in me, I fall to my knees with a big thump. When I hit the cement, I hear a low growl in the direction of the cemetery. I know I've been spotted, but my body won't allow me to get up and run. I know it's already too late.
My stalker returns to my side. I sense him before I hear him, a cold aura flows from his body into the night air and surrounds me. My body trembles in response, and somehow I know he's smiling. I feel his foul breath on the back of my neck. Then he grabs me by the arm and I cry out in pain. He lifts me only so he can flip me over on my back, and I fall back on the hard cement with a full slam. I groan, because that's all I can do. I am in so much pain. I wish I could just die. Something tells me dying may come sooner than I had expect.
The man bends down by my face and I close my eyes so tightly there is an instant ache in my head. I feel his breath on my face. It smells horrible, like a mixture of rotting flesh and wet dog. Tears run down my cheeks and I whimper a plea. The creep covers my mouth to keep me from calling out. His nails, feeling like razor sharp talons, dig deep into the side of my face. With his other hand, he strokes my hair. They're both so cold.
"Oh, shhh, Darling. It'll be over soon," he tells me, with a hint of joy in his voice. I'm disgusted by it. I think he knows, because he laughs. "Would've got you sooner. Oh, yes. That…bastard…." He trails off and mumbles and rants for a little bit, I can't understand a word. Then he starts to sob, like a sick, stubborn child. Before I can guess what's happening, he grabs my wounded shoulder and pulls me toward him. I scream in agony. The pain shoots through my entire left side, but I can do nothing to stop it. He pulls me close to his face, and I try my hardest to prevent touching him, stretching my head away from him. "You're MINE! You're so…beautiful." He says and I try not to throw up from the smell of his breath.
My hair falls off my shoulders and dangles to the ground, leaving my outstretched neck bare. He stares at me for a long time and I can feel my heart pumping the blood through my body. The pain in my shoulder is numb, and for a second I think I am going to pass out. I feel the psycho's breath on my skin and his lips stretch over my neck. He kisses me and for a moment I feel faded, like a static wall has risen between me and the rest of the world. I don't know what this man thinks he's doing, but I'm too terrified to want to know. Then he does something I do not expect. His face, pale and old, turns to the wound in my shoulder, blood dripping and dried down my entire arm, from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. For a moment he stares at it, licking his lips. And then he lunges, forcing my head away, and digs his saliva dripping lips into the gash in my shoulder. I scream in both terror and pain. His teeth, sharp as needles, tear away at the bloody flesh, licking my skin almost dry. I can't comprehend what is happening to me. I wish at this moment that someone would come to save me. Anyone.
Releasing my sight from behind my eyelids for a single second, something immediately grabs my attention. I see another figure appear from the thick fog of the street and he walks in my direction, but more calmly than I like. He slowly strides across the empty street, a small gust of wind flowing through the bottom of his long coat. I begin to wonder if my mind is withering away or if the newcomer is simply walking in slow motion. Just as I feel my attacker's teeth glide over to the bare skin of my neck, blood dripping from his hanging tongue like some ferocious dog, the man making his way toward me suddenly disappears.
In one quick movement, I feel a squall of wind pass over me and suddenly I am free. I fall back flat on the ground in shock of my freedom, but feel slightly relieved of the massive pain in my shoulder. The hard cement is cold against my thin shirt, but I don't move, not even an inch. The realization that I possibly almost died is all I can think about. My heart throbs inside my chest worse than before, it hurts.
Beside me I hear snarling and a loud thud after thud. I don't have the strength to turn my head to see what has happened to the psycho and the man who appeared to help me. I close my eyes again and try to relax. I know I am not safe yet, but I can't bare the pain any longer. Hopefully I can fall asleep and wake up in my bed, and everything will all just disappear. I hope in vein.
After what appears to be hours (it was only a few seconds) I feel like the ground disperse beneath me, like gravity has chosen to no longer exist, and I'm suddenly floating. I open my eyes to some extent, but not enough to take in the full figure that I realize is carrying me. Whether it is the psycho or my rescuer, I'm not entirely sure. I figure it is the man that came to save me, sense it's obvious I'm not dead. The pain in my shoulder grows exceedingly restless as my arm brushes against the man's coat. He walks only a few short steps away and I plead with him in my head to move faster in fear of the one who tried to kill me.
A sound comes to my ears then, a terrible sound. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, but not as fiercely as before, possibly too tired to do so. Then I realize the sound is coming from my holder. I feel his body trembling against me, shaking as violently as one who has fallen through an ice-captivated lake. I look up to see his dark face. He is crying, weeping so profoundly it sends tears to my own eyes. I don't understand. All I can think about is what will happen to me.
Then he all but falls to his knees on the hard cement below, holding me so close to him, that I were to ever touch the ground again than it would be the end of him. I open my eyes wider and study the darkness of my savior's face. The shadows are too dark for me to see anything, let alone this man's features, even in the bright, ashen moonlight. All I can make out is the ruffled, dark hair on his head and some specks of stubble brushing along the lit parts of his cheeks. His face is dark, his eyes are even darker. I feel a tear fall on my nose and blink several times from its after splash. The man continues to weep, not saying a single word to me. He just holds me, like I'm the most precious thing in the world to him. He buries his face in my hair, and I think he kisses me several times. I'm too weak and shocked to care.
This goes on for a few minutes and I almost fall asleep. I take in a small breath; it's all I can manage. "I…want…to go home," I mumble, hoarsely and without much effort. At first I don't know if he hears, then almost instantly the man lifts me from his lap and back into the air. I'm slightly startled, and I cling to him for my life. He slightly limps as he walks, clasping me in his strong arms. I feel safe there, pressed against him. I don't know if this man knows where I live, but I don't ask. I just want to go away. I want to feel completely safe, out of the night. I drift off to sleep, but only for a moment it seems.
I open my eyes again and find myself instantly wrapped in warm blankets in the most comfortable bed I had ever laid in. The comforter feels soft, almost like silk, and though the room I'm in is dark and silent, I finally feel safe. I think that I'm back in my bed, that what had happened was only just a dream. I close my eyes again and sigh peacefully. What a strange dream, I think as I slowly drift back to sleep.
I wake some time later, not able to tell if it is morning yet. The room around me is still dark, and the world still seems quiet. I shift my head to the other side of the pillow, sighing loudly. I wonder what time it is and then I try to rise from my bed. I stop.
Pain. All I can feel is pain. It runs through my whole body and I collapse back into the bed, holding my arm in agony. I don't understand. What has happened to me? Nothing in this dark room reveals itself; I have no answers. I can't move another inch, but now I feel a rough material wrapped around my shoulder, and another on my head. Bandages most likely. The things I had thought to only be a dream come back to mind, and I come to a horrifying realization that I'm not dreaming. I start to cry. I am terrified, from both the understanding of my situation and the pain in my body. Without a second thought, I cry out in terror. I want someone to help me. I need someone to help me. And then I think, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.
I grow silent when I hear the creak of old stairs. Someone is coming and I suddenly can't breath. I want to know where I am, who has captured me, but more importantly, what will happen next. Silence takes over. I hide in the comfort of the soft planets as if they could save me from my fate. And then, like lightning, the door swings open and standing in the doorway is the dark figure of a man. He doesn't move. He just stares. He whispers something, but I can't hear. He comes closer, and whispers again.
"Edeva," He says. I don't say anything in return. His voice is cracked and weak, and I know he's been crying again. The figure comes to lay by my side. I don't move away. I'm too scared to. "Edeva," he says. "You've come back to me."
His hand caresses my cheek and I jolt back at its coldness. Everything is cold; I can feel it towering over me. Something horrible. He reaches for me again, but this time I don't move away. I pass out.