by L. J. Sealey
It was still too dark to make anything out. Distant shadows were all she could see, of furniture or equipment of some sort. She knew wherever she was it was big, noticing how her and her abductor’s voices had echoed, his more so than hers.
A noise, like metal clanging on concrete, flicked her head to the side. Her eyes widened as she waited with baited breath for something to come into view. Her heart pounded loudly, the only sound in the silence that followed.
Nothing.
She began to slowly breathe again as she told herself it was probably a rat or something, hoped it was anyway. No. Not hoped. . . she hated rats.
Something caught in her peripheral vision, the opposite side from where the noise had come from. She reluctantly turned her head but there was nothing there.
There it was again. . . a little over to the right this time. She jerked her head to look for whatever was catching her eye but still. . . Nothing.
She was losing her mind. That had to be it. The surrounding darkness was playing tricks on her and she didn’t appreciate it. She was scared enough as it was without scaring herself to death as well.
This time she saw it. A shadow moved past the bed so quickly she nearly missed the damn thing. Her breath caught. What the hell was that?
Then a figure appeared from the darkness at the foot of the bed. A woman, dressed in a long white nightgown, her long brown hair ran down past her shoulders, curling at the ends. She looked to be in her early twenties maybe, it was hard to tell, she wasn’t exactly solid.
Lacy groaned. Not another damn hallucination. Now really wasn’t the time.
The woman began to walk towards her, her form flickering ever so slightly, like Lacy was watching an old video tape that was damaged. Suddenly, Lacy felt her whole body go cold. She shivered, goose flesh tingling all over her skin, and watched with gritted teeth as the woman reached out a hand toward her.
This is all in your head. She’s not real. She’s not real.
Lacy blinked hard over and over again, hoping that one of the times when she opened her eyes the vision would be gone but no such luck. Her mind was determined to destroy what little amount of sanity she had left.
Please, just go away.
The figure came closer to the bed, her arm outstretched in front of her like she was reaching out for something. Her face was gaunt, eyes glazed over as she stared at Lacy.
Something wasn’t right. If this was a hallucination it was very realistic.
All of a sudden the woman’s hand came down and grabbed Lacy’s ankle. Shit! She was real all right. Lacy bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming as the woman’s grip got tighter, causing her ankle to sting from the pressure.
What the hell? She didn’t dare speak the words through fear of her abductor returning so she remained as quiet as possible forcing her mouth to stay closed. She felt something snap−praying it wasn’t her ankle−and almost cried out with the last sudden jolt of pain.
Then. . .
The pressure and pain eased and she felt the chains fall away from her.
Before Lacy could register what had happened, the woman had moved to the head of the bed so quickly Lacy hardly even saw it. She noticed how pretty the woman was now that she was closer. “Who are you?” Lacy asked in the faintest whisper. The woman’s head angled to the side as she looked down at her. She didn’t speak, only proceeded to do the same to her wrists as she’d done at Lacy’s feet.
Lacy held her breath in anticipation of the same pain she’d just felt.
Snap!
Her hands were now free. She rubbed at her wrists.
In spite of her complete shock at what had just happened, and at the realisation that maybe, after all this time, the visions she’d always seen were never actually hallucinations, she still somehow managed to climb off the bed and stand up. When she looked around to thank the woman she’d disappeared. Before her mind began trying to convince itself that the woman hadn’t been real after all, and that she was actually losing her mind, Lacy reminded herself that imaginary women in their nightgowns could not snap thick rope and chain with their hands.
She shook herself. No time to think about it.
Now she had to move, and fast.
She looked over at the door to the other room and to her relief it was still closed. Forcing her eyes to focus she hurried through the large space, careful not to kick anything or trip over as she struggled to navigate through the dark, thick shadows without making a sound. Up ahead she noticed there were a few small windows that had been blackened out, one of which had a beam of pale light bursting through a small gap in the paint. Was it still daylight? As it was the only source of light, she headed in that direction and as she got closer, two large metal doors became visible.
Please don’t be locked. Please don’t be locked. Her pleas went unanswered. Her stomach sank when she saw a thick chain, much like the one that had bound her ankles, threaded through the slide lock and held in place by a large padlock.
Shit! Her eyes frantically scanned the dark. She didn’t have much time until that bastard returned to find her gone and when he did he would surely be pissed. God knows what he’d do to her. Besides that, another reason was spurring her on: If she managed to get away, it’d save Michael from risking his life to rescue her. She inhaled a deep breath and willed herself to a relative calm so she could focus for a minute. When she did she noticed that one of the large doors looked slightly different to the other and then she saw why: A smaller door, normal height, was inside of it.
Oh, my God. Through all of my damn stressing I almost missed it. She thought to herself as she quietly undid the bolt at the top. She noticed another towards the bottom, unlocked that one too and then pushed. It didn’t budge. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on a keyhole. Shit! It must be locked. She pushed again but it was no use.
Tears began to sting her eyes. How cruel was it that she’d been set free from her binds but was now locked in the damn building? There had to be another way. She was about to turn around but froze as she was hit by a familiar sensation. Her body had gone cold as it had on the bed, and no sooner had she realised why, an arm reached past her, its hand flattening against the lock. She turned to see the brown haired woman standing next to her. Immediately, a faint click sounded and the door pushed open to reveal the blackened night outside; a rush of sweet, chilled air hit her instantly. Maybe she was going to make it after all.
She turned to the spirit and whispered, “Thank you,” then watched as she faded away.
Lacy shot out of the warehouse and into the grounds of a junk yard. The light she’d seen through the window was caused by flood lights that lit up the whole yard. Twisted metal heaps that were once cars were piled up high in organised rows stretching out as far as she could see. She never thought it possible to feel claustrophobic in such a vast open space but she did.
Suddenly a loud roar came from inside the building, the echo of which filled the expanse of the disused warehouse until it reached Lacy, hitting her full in the face. Fear spiked through her veins and she ran. As fast her legs were able to carry her, she ran for her life.
Her breath rushed in and out as she ran through the tall maze of metal. The moon reflected on the damp floor of the junk yard, helping to illuminate the way. She reached the end of the aisle only to be faced with more of the same. She looked both ways and couldn’t see an end to the rows upon rows of stacked up cars.
There has to be a way out of here.
Lacy gasped as she heard her captor’s malevolent laughter filling the air as though it was flying around, travelling on the cold night breeze. She picked a direction and ran hoping that she’d find a way out of there. It had to end somewhere, right?
Her head whipped around to the sound of the man’s sinister laugh in her ear, much quieter and a lot closer, as though he were running beside her, in fact she could have sworn she’d felt his breath stroke her neck but he wasn’t there. Her heart began to race and freezing cold tears flicked
off her cheeks as she fought to stay upright on her weakening legs. She kept checking behind to see if he was following but there was still no sign of him. She could only hear his voice. Somehow he was projecting it, tormenting her. Her lungs burned, her chest ached but she didn’t stop running.
After checking over her shoulder once more she went ploughing into a dark figure: her captor. His laugh was the same as she’d just heard only his face was still. The sound wasn’t coming from his mouth but yet she still heard it echoing all around the junk yard. She screamed and he spun her so she faced away from him, locking his arms around her.
“Get off me,” she cried, frantically trying to break free from his hold. Her energy was fading and she struggled for breath. “Please.”
His hand covered her mouth and he whispered by her ear. “Now I get to hurt you.” His raucous laughter grated her ears.
She attempted to scream, for all the good it would do, but it just came out as a muted grunt. She knew she’d signed her death warrant when she’d decided to run. If her kidnapper had planned to let her go in exchange for Michael she highly doubted that would be the case now. He was pissed off.
She still struggled in his grip; no way was she dying without a fight. Not after how close she’d come to escaping.
“Stop it bitch or I’ll just snap your neck right here.” His voice sounded a lot deeper than usual and almost like there were two of him speaking.
She doubted he would. If he killed her now he’d lose his leverage.
It wasn’t her kidnapper’s ominous threat that made her body freeze. It was the voice that came from the shadows, a voice that both filled her with hope and fear.
“Don’t you fucking dare harm her you son of a bitch!”
Michael. She feared for them both now.
“Well, well.” her captor said, keeping his grip tight over her mouth. “Didn’t you show up just in time? Shame though, I was about to have some fun. Perhaps I still will now you’re here to watch.”
He brought his arm up and Lacy felt something sharp dig into her neck. She inhaled sharply through her nose and her eyes widened and locked onto Michael’s.
Michael’s hands went up as if to show he had no weapons. “Easy. I’m here just like you wanted.” His voice had lost all the anger. He took a step closer then paused. “You hurt her, the deal’s off.”
“And you’re alone?”
“You know that already. Now summon him.”
Michael’s hands remained where they were. Lacy could see in his face that he knew with the knife being so close to her throat, one wrong move and she was dead. She tried but couldn’t stop trembling and could hardly breathe due to the fact that every inhale pushed the blade deeper into her skin.
“I said summon him.” Michael demanded.
“I don’t have to. He’s already here.”
Lacy saw a large figure appear behind Michael. From out of nowhere! She tried to shout, to warn him. Then felt a piercing sting as the knife cut her. It worked. Michael whipped around but was immediately thrown backwards by some sort of invisible force.
What the hell?
Lacy was suddenly thrown free. She hit the ground with a thud but managed to shuffle herself into a corner out of the way where all she could do was watch with absolute horror as the two men descended on Michael.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Now is as good a time as any, Alethia.”
Michael called out right before he got a heavy boot in his abdomen. He flew through the air landing against a hunk of metal which caved under the weight of him. He jumped to his feet as quickly as his legs would let him and ran at Varesh. He knew he was only fighting to hold him off until Alethia intervened in whatever way she was planning, and wished to hell she’d hurry up about it.
Just as Michael was about to charge into Varesh’s six foot seven−at least−frame he disappeared into thin air leaving Michael to crash into his minion instead. Whatever. . . Either one would do as long as he kept them both away from Lacy.
They hit the ground and skidded along the asphalt. Michael swung at the bastard who−and he had no idea why he noticed at this moment−was wearing a suit. Some poor office bloke on his way to work that he’d found no doubt. He connected with his jaw. Of course all that did was jerk the demon’s head back a little and make it even more riled than it already was.
The demon manoeuvred his leg under Michael and kicked out, once again sending him backwards through the air. When he landed he cracked the back of his skull. He lifted up onto his elbows and shook away the stars that had filled his vision temporarily. He reached around his head and felt a wet patch in his hair. When he looked at his hand it was soaked with blood. “Son of a−” The demon charged towards him.
Michael jumped up but the bastard crashed right into him, the force pushed him back until his back got slammed up against a wall of scrap metal. He felt something sharp puncture his skin above his right kidney just as he heard Lacy crying out his name. He looked down to see that he’d been impaled on a piece of metal tubing, a goddamn tailpipe?
He glanced over to where Lacy was huddled between two cars. When his gaze met hers she gasped. Her eyes widened, her face filled with bewilderment as her hand slowly covered her mouth. When Michael flicked his eyes back to the demon minion who was now snarling in his face he knew why Lacy had reacted that way. The demon’s face was illuminated by the white glow Michael was now emitting from his eyes, which was always the case when he was angry.
She’d seen them.
He didn’t have time to worry about that now. Besides, she’d also seen his back eat the end of a tail pipe and was about to watch him walk away from it unaffected so, yeah, he knew he’d be having a certain conversation with her once this was over.
He pushed the demon backwards with all of his strength and managed to free himself from the metal. Without hesitation he punched the guy under his chin and before his head had chance to correct itself he punched again, then twice more. The demon only stumbled backwards a couple of steps but it was enough for Michael to gain back his momentum. As the demon looked back at Michael he wiggled his jaw, his eyes now glowing crimson, just like he’d seen in Jake’s and another demon’s eyes in the alleyway all those months ago when he’d saved Evo. This bastard was as strong as that one had been too.
Michael braced himself for what would come at him and sure enough the bastard pulled out a knife.
“When you are mine, I’m going to enjoy slicing your flesh from your bones,” he hissed as he began to pace around Michael like a lion circling his pray.
Michael looked at the knife then smiled. “You think that will hurt me?”
The minion laughed. “Maybe this won’t. But that will.”
“MICHAEL!” Lacy cried out.
He was just about to turn around when a white hot pain shot through his entire body, burning every inch of him like he’d imagine hot molten Lava to feel if it were poured over his skin. He would have fallen to his knees with agony except there was something stopping his body from collapsing. He looked down and. . .
What. The. Fuck?
A glowing hand protruded from his stomach. Despite the intense pain Michael turned his head in stunned silence to see Varesh was standing behind him. He’d pushed his hand right through his stomach. Fuck!
Michael let out a pained roar.
Varesh laughed with deep satisfaction. “I have waited for this day for a long time. I must thank you for making it easy for me. I expected a much harder battle with you given the power you are rumoured to possess. Now, you have a choice to make. Die, or join us.”
Michael couldn’t think past the acid heat that was now surging through his entire body. He heard Varesh’s words but nothing he said made any sense. He tried to speak but it was no use.
The distant cries of a female voice confused him. It was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.
“STOP! You’re killing him,” she pleaded.
Then he remembered. Lacy! He had t
o keep her safe but his body was paralysed.
Varesh’s voice shouted out to his minion. “Kill her!”
“NO!” Michael roared. He managed to open his eyes and saw the other demon stalking towards Lacy. The fear in her eyes pained him more than what Varesh was doing and when he tried with all of his strength to move he couldn’t. He was helpless.
In the next instance his vision began to change. Everything around him grew brighter and began to spin.
NO! This can’t be happening. Not now.
But this was it. He was finally dying and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do to save Lacy either. As his vision began to fade he heard muffled voices shouting out.
“What’s going on?” A male voice penetrated the fog now filling Michael’s mind.
“Alethia!” another voice shouted. “What business do you have here, Alethia?”
Then a feral growl filled the air. The sound was close to him so it must have been from Varesh. “You will die for this,” the demon shouted.
He forced his eyes open and everything was brighter now. This was what he’d longed for through his torture all that time ago, the light that he’d heard appeared before you died. He felt the burning beginning to ease, a peace rushing through him like a waterfall dousing the flames that had been so rampant over his skin and through his veins. Then everything went quiet and he felt like he was floating. Flying through an expanse of nothingness, unable to see or hear, just feel. This weird sensation must have been his passing. He was finally going to where he was meant to be. If this is what true peace feels like, I’ll take it, he thought. And in that moment he didn’t want anything else.