Twilight Nightmares (Twisted Tales Special Edition Book 1)

by Wilson, Jay

  “Are you sure? Cause I can call an ambulance.” He said, and she opened her eyes.

  The light was brighter than she would’ve liked, but it her eyes quickly adjusted. The man standing over her wasn’t very tall, maybe eight inches over five feet. He wore a pale blue t-shirt with the gym’s logo across the front, and a smile that was as comforting as his soft voice. She sat up, winced, and smiled back at him.

  “I’m fine, really.” She said, and then checked her wound for blood. The welt was large, felt a lot like a giant ball bearing wrapped with skin and hair. Her fingers were clean, which was good, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t done superb damage to her insides. She looked up and said, "You're not going to give me the finger test, are you?"

  He chuckled. "No, this isn't Hollywood. But if you’re okay for now, I do need you to fill out a report, though."

  She looked up at him, "Really?"

  "Yeah, sorry, I know it can be a pain, but I have to. Legal things and all." He said, and stood, "Sit tight, and I'll be back with the clip board."

  She nodded, “I’m not going anywhere for at least a little while.”

  As he left, she looked around. Most of the people there stopped what they were doing and watched her. Some people looked smug as if they wouldn't have made the same mistake she did. Some seemed genuinely concerned. All of them were whispering rubberneckers, though, which she never liked. It was one thing to drop everything and help, and it was quite another to stare at the aftermath of an accident. People tended to like the drama and carnage surrounding bad things, which was something she knew all too well because she was a cop. However, it was even more unsettling when she was the center of that attention.

  Olivia looked away, and rubbed her eyes. She scoffed slightly, realizing that if her dad knew what happened, he'd lose it. He'd tell her it was bad enough she worked a dangerous job that she didn’t need to be climbing, too. Climbing and being a cop were no place for my little girl, he'd admonish, she would be better off with something like doctoring or lawyering. Then he’d go on to finish with a guilt trip that every time she does something like that, it gives him a mini heart attack and one day, it would be a real big one.

  It really wasn’t his fault, though. Fifteen years ago, when she was just turning sixteen, her mother was in an accident. Three weeks before, he damaged his back at the plant he worked at, so he wasn’t able to do much around the house for a short while. Her mother, being the ever-busy person that she was, took it upon herself to go up on the roof and clean the gutter of the leaves. During that time of year, storms routinely blasted through on a moment’s notice right smack in the middle of a sunny day, and one of those random hefty gusts of wind blew her and the ladder away from the house. The result was a cracked skull, broken collarbone, an enlarged spleen, and of course, her father feeling completely responsible for it. He believed that had he been the one up there cleaning the drains, that if he were the husband he was supposed to be, he would have taken take of it, bad back or not.

  Her mother called it macho bullshit, lovingly of course, but that didn’t make him feel any less responsible for it. That quickly translated to his need to be over protective of everything the women in his life did. When Olivia told him she was heading off to the military at 18, he lost it. When she finally finished two tours and retired to complete college, he felt a lot better. When she graduated and told him she decided to join the police academy, he lost it again.

  When the gym’s employee returned with a clipboard with small questionnaire attached to it, her phone began to ring. He handed the paperwork to her as she fished her cell from the left pocket of her shorts. She half-expected it to be her father, because he always had a useless sixth sense to let him know when something had gone wrong. Fortunately, it wasn't her dad. It was Danny.

  She looked up at the employee. "I'll fill it out, but I gotta take this."

  "Sure, no problem. I'll be back."

  She tapped the green answer button, and said, "What's up, Danny boy?"

  “What did I tell you last time you called me that?” He said.

  She smiled. “Did you really think I wouldn’t harass you after you made such a big heaping stink about it?”

  “Well, I thought you’d be mature about it.” He said, and she could tell he was smiling.

  “Okay, well, what’s up, Danno?” She said, and choked back a deep laugh. She needed it. After the fall she’d become too tense, but the rush and her ultimate survival had settled a bit of giddy childishness inside her.

  “Well, at least that’s a little better. That was a damn good show.”

  “What show?”

  “Hawaii Five-oh.”

  “Before my time.”

  “Wh—okay, maybe one of the runs was before your time, but it was rebooted you know.”

  “I haven’t see it, so I’d say I’m in the clear.”

  “Reality T.V. junkie, huh?”

  “Ouch, that’s harsh, Danno.” She chuckled. Her head protested the delight with a quick bolt of pain, and won. She winced audibly.

  Danny said, “You okay?”

  “Uh, yeah… just a little sore from climbing.” She hated lying, but she didn’t mind giving partial truths because those were not lies. She was in fact sore from climbing, but she left it open enough for him to draw his own mild conclusion.

  "Climbing without me, huh? One of these days you're gonna hurt yourself."

  "Yeah, I suppose you're right." She agreed, and rubbed the knot on her skull again. "So, what's up? I’m sure you didn’t call just to chat."

  "We caught a case, and the boss wants you in on it."

  "Still can't handle things on your own, eh?" She teased.

  "My guess is he wants me to show you how it's done."

  "Oh, ho, okay, is that how it is?" She said, and laughed. Her head swelled with pain, and she winced again.

  "Seriously, you sound like you got hit by a car, or worse you racked your shin on something.”

  "I’m fine, just a little sore is all. Tell me about the case."

  "You know, the usual. Murder and suicide, life’s little reminder that love is just as dangerous as it is pleasant."

  “Ever the romantic.”

  “Yep, a regular Notebook.”

  “That’s a movie, not a person.”

  “Whatever, you get what I mean.”

  She chuckled, but this time her head didn’t fight back. “Alright, well, I'll be there in a few. Where am I going?"

  "I'll text you the address." He said, and hung up.

  Olivia set her phone down, and rubbed the back of her head. The large welt didn’t reduce any, and now it felt like a bruise, incredibly tender to the touch. She knew she probably needed to get it checked, but she was stubborn, and decided to fill out the paperwork and get the hell out of there.

  After filling out the first portion of the accident report, she looked up. Most of the people had gone back to climbing or stretching. One man, however, continued to watch her. He stood just outside the plate glass window, and the reflection of the interior lights of the gym turned him into a washed-out silhouette. He stood there, unmoving watching her intently.

  Olivia raised her eyebrows to suggest he should stop, but he continued. His broad shoulders reflected the soft light from lamp in the parking lot, and it looked like he might be wearing a black trench coat, but the fabric seemed too reflective for that.

  This time, Olivia gestured with both her hands and a very prominent face. He apparently took the obvious hint, and disappeared from the window, except it was as if he skated away instead of walked. There was no lumber or gait. It was fluid and disturbingly unnatural.

  She shook her head, spending a moment too long trying to wrap her head around the strange man, and quickly decided it wasn’t worth wasting her time wondering about it. Rubberneckers were forever, and she just needed to get used to it.

  n Book 1)