Next Day
Yesterday we arrived at our intended destination. I don't know where or what it is but it's constantly dripping and it's gross. Luckily there are no corpses on the walls; at least that I could see. He rushed out after shoving me inside. A deep rumbling "need food" was issued as the only explanation. I just sat down in the driest corner I could find and waited, praying for whoever crossed his path. I didn't bother to cry.
November 6
I awoke from another nightmare. I dreamed he was still behind me pushing and pushing.
Getting up was painful, but staying on the floor was worse. The cold from the concrete felt like it had seeped into my bones. I felt like an old woman with arthritis, I hobbled around before finally finding enough room for stretching out. Then I winced when I accidentally bend the fist sized bruise between my shoulder blades. It's still very sore. I looked down at my self again, surely my body is changing. My bones must be shifting, maybe my pelvic bones are widening. My body is making room for the- whatever it is. I just can't bring myself to call it a baby.
Blinking and stumbling I find my way around. Everything is dark wet and cold. Why couldn't I be kidnapped by a monster who liked to live on the beach? Despite myself I suddenly smile at the unexpected idea of The Creeper on a beach, working on his tan. However my progress comes to an unexpected halt as he pushes his nose against mine, smiling his horrible smile back. I stand in silence, afraid and resentful, but he seems not to notice, he pulls me towards a room. I really don't want to go. I don't what his intensions are, but what choice do I have?
"Ughh," I grimace at human remains, some are still new. One woman is largely intact, with eyes blindly staring at me. I close my eyes in dismay. I just want to leave, but he won't let me. I can feel him coldly appraising me, what does he want? I just can't be in here for much longer. He walks over to a pile of clothes, rags really. They must be from his victims, I thought.
He reaches through the pile and pulls up a shimmering blue object. It's intact, like he carefully preserved it, while the rest he just ripped up. He brings it to his nose and smells with eyes closed, like it contains some exquisite perfume. He then hands it to me. I take it, uncertain. His motives are so bizarre, but I'm too afraid of him to say no. I look at the cloth. It looks like a scarf, it's a deep royal blue. Abstract symbols in silver thread decorate it on one side; the same symbols in gold decorate the other.
It's rather pretty, but a bit impractical, and I really don't need it. I look up at him in question. He makes a motion of putting something on his head, so I try my best to obey and hesitantly lift the scarf over my head. It's gauzy and nearly opaque, I have no idea how it's supposed to go on but I kind of wrap it around and tie it like a head scarf. Then look back at him.
He moves forward and unties it, letting it loose around my head. He fiddles and adjusts it until he seems satisfied. Then he stands back to admire his handiwork. I look down on the ground uncertainly. The blue cloth hangs down around my face. This seems oddly familiar…
Then he suddenly yanks the cloth off and bundles it away, grinning in self satisfaction. I stand uncertain, my eyes happen upon the dead woman. I can't stand this anymore I have to leave, I turn to the door. I felt his hand on my shoulder, like I knew he would. I close my eyes, just get it over with you monster.
Smelling me, that's how it starts, he smells me all over. To my relief he turns away but he comes back and shoves a brown bag into my arms. Then he seemingly dismisses me with a wave of his arm. I don't hesitate, I get out of that room as soon as he resumes him meal. The woman's frozen terrified eyes follow me. She's begging me not to leave.
Don't be stupid she's just a corpse, I tell myself. Still I am relieved to get away from the Creeper and her. I run back into my chosen spot. I'm so sickened, and sad, and afraid that until I'm in my chosen little corner I simply don't remember about the bag I'm carrying.
He gave me a bag of groceries.
7
The grocery bag had some interesting things. A loaf of wheat bread, some eggs, which are useless unless cooked, a small block of cheese, some apples and a about a quart of milk, and a bag of M&Ms. I puzzled over where he could have possibly got it before I realized I was being stupid - again. He must have got it from one of his victims.
I put the bag slowly down, disquieted by the realization. I was eating a dead person's food. A dead person's stolen food. My mind grappled with the morality of my situation.
I realized I hadn't eaten in a while; food was just the last thing on my mind. The trauma of everything, and seeing the side of people only morticians should see didn't help my appetite.
Should I eat this food? I wondered. Would it be right? Why should I even eat? Because this bastard wants me too? Anger erupts inside of me. I should just kill myself, leaving my bloody corpse for him to find, to hell with whatever plans he had for me. I hate this, I hate him, I hate EVERYTHING.
The anger burns out again. I feel hopeless but I resist the stupid urge to cry, it won't do any good.
I can smell the bread; it smells so fresh, my mouth waters. Screw it, I think. I'll think about the morality of this situation later. I need to be strong because I'm going to get out of here, pregnancy or no pregnancy. I eat about a quarter of the bread slices and drink half of the milk.
10
The milk went bad, I had no way of preserving it and this place seems designed to grow mold. The eggs were starting to smell rotten before yesterday was over. To amuse my self I went outside and threw a few of them at the crows. I also ate one of the apples and most of the bread. The M&Ms weren't bad, as I was craving something sweet. However I was reluctant to remove the cheese from its plastic wrap because of what happened to the milk.
Luckily I haven't seen the Creeper much, I feel better already.
12
I egged the BEATNGU car.
Creeper
Her odd behavior continues. A few days ago she collapsed and stopped breathing; I hit her back to force her throat open, and more vomit spilled out. I had to keep an eye her since then. She mostly cried and slept, but thankfully she did not choke or stop breathing again.
I looked at the bone I gave her. It had no functional purpose; it was just something I made in my newly freed time. When I offered it to her as an explanation she fell to the ground. I've made sure to keep it away from her since then. I think the remains of other humans disturb her. She is not like the other one.
I need to leave this place. I can't hunt as much anymore because she needs to be watched. Luckily my body has…slowed. But I still need food, and she needs to eat if the unborn is to survive. I thought I should take her to a place with fewer humans, since their remains disturb her so.
However when I rouse her she becomes irrational and laughably violent. It angers me so I assert my self. She screams and fights even more so I respond by simply pushing more of my self on her. She cries but eventually slowly quiets and stills. She is learning very fast.
For a moment I close my eyes to block out my sight, focusing on her scent. She smells so delicious; I might have eaten her if she wasn't so pleasurable. I still want to eat her, but another scent fills my nose. It smells like me but it's coming from her. My resolve not to eat her is strengthened.
When I reestablish control she is quiet and obedient. She gathers her things and puts them in the truck like she is told. I can feel the simmering anger underneath her though. This might be fun.
On the road hunger begins his eternal gnawing. The woman ignores me and sleeps, which annoys me further. When I spot a car I can barely contain myself. Ramming it to draw out the sweet scent from within I wake and injure the woman, who screams in rage. To my disappointment she does nothing else. The driver does not smell good.
By the time the sun is high I am ravenous, but I haven't seen a human since the last car. I began to notice the woman's smell. She goes off on her own, I keep my eyes on her and she does not run. She pokes around the gas truck like the curious young creature she is. Then she goes off alone but I can hear that she has not run away.
I transfer the gas pumping into my truck. The woman is downwind, foolishly spilling her scent into the breeze, to me. She smells so good. The scent that is mine-but-not-mine fades in my hunger. When she walks innocently in front of me, her back is trustingly turned, I almost give in, but I know I have to stop myself. Still I seize upon her, pushing her onto the car.
She gives out a small cry like a wounded bird and pushes her body back, which only serves to arouse me further. As I smell her hair I nearly bite her skull; I want her soft flesh to melt in my mouth, only a thin line of reason keeps me from devouring her. With a massive effort of will I transfer my hunger into my desire. I will have her body but not eat it too. It's pleasurable, it distracts me from my hunger and it allows me taste her without endangering her life. She doesn't resist but I can feel the tenseness is her muscles. Oddly I can feel her hip bones protruding as well.
When I finish I pull back and adjust my trousers. I take two steps and she falls to the ground again. I almost rush back but I can hear her breathing deeply, so my worry fades. I start the car, the tiny needle points to "F". I am satisfied.
The girl remains outside. She's still breathing but her head is down in a submissive posture and her hand pulls pointlessly over he clothes. I don't understand the gesture so I simply haul her inside and shut the door. With out anymore delays I drive to the catacombs.
When we finally arrive the hunger asserts itself again, but I know where humans are. I leave the girl and go hunting. I am wildly successful. I find plenty of fresh food and devour them before I can even consider bringing them home. I was beginning to feel full when I spotted a woman.
Oh yes, she was food, she had the smell. But what caught my eye with the blue cloth on her head. When she saw me her brown eyes grew big with terror. She dropped what she was holding, screamed and ran. Like she had a chance.
When I snapped her neck I had a fleeting vision of the girl, this woman reminded me of her slightly. I dismissed the vision and lifted her up to take her home, making sure to save the blue cloth. It gave me an idea. I nearly left when I saw what she had dropped. A good sniff and careful prodding revealed a bag full of human food. It smelled distasteful to me but remembering the girl's bones sticking out in my hands I grabbed it as well.
I found the girl wandering aimlessly around and quickly put the blue cloth on her head. She tied it around her head so that she resembled the previous owner again, but I let it hang loose. Her likeness to the snake crushing goddess increased, but she needed to be bigger. Soon she would swell with child, and can be of even more use. I also gave her the human food which she accepted without comment. Then I turned to the woman's corpse.
To my surprise she wasn't dead, I had merely paralyzed her not killed her. Interesting. Her eyes gaze at me in wide unblinking horror. I grab a cleaver to correct that.
20
I have been doing NOTHING all day everyday. Well I have done a little. I manage to make my concrete corner a little more comfortable by spreading rags and blankets on the floor. I've eaten most of my food and I….egged his truck. He never brought it up.
Two extremes have captured me. Sometimes I just sink into the floor, staring at nothing, my mind rushing but going nowhere. Sometimes I cry , staring at my hands, thinking I'm not me anymore. I must have died, I must be in hell, or I'm stuck in someone else's body because this can't be happening to me. Once I caught my reflection in a piece of polished steel and didn't recognize myself.
On the other hand I've brutally angry and energetic, almost manic. I jump up and walk around, sometimes I pace outside if he leaves the door open. I make escape plans that I never execute and once in a fit of rage I threw my remaining eggs at his truck. Afterwards I was shocked and terrified but I could not bring myself to clean it up. After what he did to me on it I hate going near it. However he did not confront me about it.
In fact he has started largely ignoring me again and he certainly never talks to me. He still smells me and I'm pretty sure he stays in hearing range, maybe he's afraid I'll freak out again, but he hasn't touched me. I thank God silently.
I've sat in my corner trying to gather my thoughts. Bits of rumors and half-forgotten Creeper lore have accumulated in my brain, but I've found no use for it. There are no stories of escape or of his defeat. He seems universally victorious, if he wants something he will get it. Too bad for those he wants to get, you just have to be killed.
Depression again, but I'm not dead, sometimes I think it would be better if I were He kept me alive. I'm still here.
Partly out of boredom, but mostly to distract my troubled mind, I dig around my bags to find my old notebook. I run my fingers over my doodles and drawings, my silly sketches and notes. When my eyes linger over the things my friends drew and wrote, I have to look away.
It all seems unreal; this can't be mine, even though I know it's mine. It seems like an ancient thing, a relic from another age. I might as well be holding the Rosetta stone. I turn all the pages again until I find blank paper. For some reason this soothes me, it's fresh, it's new, it makes me feel better. I begin to draw.
I draw a pretty smiling girl. She sits on an old tree swing. Her long dark hair erupts from my pen and flows down to her shoulders. She's happy and safe in her two dimensional world. I draw other things; birds, dogs, a family, friends. It's not great quality, I don't have a lot of natural talent, but the bland happiness captured in the pictures makes me feel slightly better.
Nevertheless as the day wears on and everything becomes dark my drawings change. The cute robins and larks become crows. A woman who was supposed to be alive looks dead. I draw a beautiful field of ripe corn that somehow oozes malice. And by the time fresh screams erupt from deeper inside the building I draw a demon with wings and fall asleep shaking and clutching my notebook.
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A/N: Kind of a filler chapter, but more will be coming soon. Please R/R.