Terror in the Shadows Vol 5
Page 13
Willis was out in seconds. He turned and pulled the door closed, turning the little knob to lock it. That wasn’t likely to keep someone from coming through. He looked to his left and right for something to help him keep the door closed.
The room was empty.
After a few moments, he realized no one was trying to come through. He went to the door and pressed one ear against it, straining to hear what was on the other side.
He heard nothing.
His heart was thumping in his chest. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
He turned in a slow circle. There wasn’t another soul in the room. There was no furniture. No rug on the floor. No window to look through.
It was a cell.
A feeling of dread washed over him. His only way out was back through that room. They might be waiting for him. They might be staying as quiet as they could until he came out. After all, if he stayed in there, he would eventually starve to death.
He got down as low as he could, pressing his face against the floor to look under the door. No luck, the other side blocked by a door cushion. He couldn’t see through the keyhole, either. The door didn’t have one.
He was going to have to take his chances.
If only he could wake up. It would take him away from here.
He put his hand on the doorknob, pulling in a deep breath at the same time.
He turned the knob.
As soon as the door opened, Willis felt a rush of air pulling him into the room he’d run from. His feet lifted up from under him, his chest moved forward, and his shoulders back. Fear split through him like a hot knife.
He was whisked quickly through the air, turned around, and slammed into a cushiony chair that reminded him of what he sat in at a dentist’s office.
This time, the straps were made of metal. They clamped him to the chair around his forehead and neck, as well as his upper arms, torso, wrists, thighs, and ankles.
He made a squeaking noise, which was all he could manage under the immense terror he was feeling.
“I told you, you can’t get away,” the woman said. This time, he heard her voice clear as day. She was in the room, but nowhere in his line of vision, and he couldn’t move his head to see her.
“I… I didn’t do anything…” he stuttered. He was willing to do or say anything. All he wanted to do was wake up.
“You’ve already been found guilty.” Her voice was like a snake hissing in his ear. He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear it anymore. When she laughed, he cringed.
“Please… please… I…”
“No more talking,” the woman whispered the words directly in his ear. He could feel her breath brush against his skin.
The next moment, he felt a burning sensation in the back of his neck.
“What are you doing?” he shrieked. “What are you doing to me?”
Pain lit up his brain as something sharp pierced through his skin.
He screamed.
***
Willis sat up. Relief swept through him for only a moment before the deep-seated fear took hold of him again. His eyelids drooped. He was so tired.
He never got enough rest. He never really slept, especially since the dream was getting closer and closer to killing him.
There was a knock on his door. An orderly stuck his young head through and smiled at him.
“Mr. Murphy? Are you all right? Heard some noise in here.”
“I don’t want to sleep, Jason,” Willis said, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t go to sleep. Do you hear me? I can’t.”
The orderly, who had seen this behavior from Willis before, just nodded. “I know, Mr. Murphy. I don’t want you to die, either. I’m sorry, sir. I have to check on you, and I think you were sleeping. I know you have nightmares, but sometimes any dreaming is good for the body. At least then you’re asleep and getting the rest you need.”
Willis could still feel the sharp object sliding into his neck, down along his spine. It made him wonder if there was something in there now. Maybe it was a worm, something that would slowly eat him from the inside out.
He began to scratch his skin, absent-mindedly. “What’s for lunch, Jason?”
Jason smiled at him. Willis couldn’t help but see satisfaction on the young man’s face. “Bologna sandwiches for lunch today, sir. I think you’ll enjoy them. Corn on the cob on the side. Got some pudding for you, your favorite.”
“Did you get my bottle of Coke?”
Jason nodded. “Yeah, I did. But caffeine will only keep you going for so long, Mr. Murphy. You’ve got to sleep.”
Willis nodded back at the orderly. “So I’ve been told. But I’m not going to sleep, Jason. If I do, I’m gonna die. Don’t you get that? I’ve been telling you for so long, and you people still let me fall asleep.”
“You can’t really die in your sleep because of dreams, Mr. Murphy,” Jason insisted. “I mean, they like to say that you can, but it’s always natural causes, and dreams are all in your mind.”
“The mind is a powerful thing,” Willis retorted. “You cannot fathom the depths of its power.”
Jason moved so he was standing in front of Willis, taking a knee next to him. “Mr. Murphy, do you really believe the mind is that powerful?”
Willis looked down at the young man, feeling a nervous twitch in his chest. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Jason. His heartbeat sped up. He consciously tried to slow it down.
“I… I… of course, I do. I told you I did.” Willis was stuttering. It embarrassed him and he looked away from Jason.
But something made his eyes dart back to the orderly’s face. It didn’t look right. Confusion and fear filled him when he heard the sound of a distant monitor beeping. He looked up and around, but there were no monitors in his room.
He looked back at Jason. The man was smiling at him.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Murphy?”
His voice had changed. It was higher, at least an octave. It had a familiar ring to it that sent chills up Willis’s spine.
“What… what’s…”
Jason’s smile widened even more. A dark cloud covered his face, leaving his eyes and smile to shine through alone, reminding Willis of the Cheshire Cat.
“You didn’t really think you can get away, did you, Willis?”
The dark cloud lifted from Jason’s face just as Willis recognized the voice. It was the woman from his dream. Chills slid up and down his body, and the fear from his nightmare returned with full force.
“No!”
He tried to stand but was locked down to a hospital table by his wrists and ankles. His heart hammered in his chest, and he pulled in a deep breath. He let it all out in a terrified, wailing scream.
The woman laughed. Her face hovered over him.
He hated her voice. He hated her face.
He hated her.
He struggled mightily against the straps around his wrists.
“Let me go!” he shrieked. He ignored the pain from the straps tearing at his flesh, jerking his arms up again and again, trying to reach for her. “Let me go! I haven’t done anything! Let me go!”
The woman’s smile never left her face, stretching beyond what was physically possible. She looked evil. She was evil. “You don’t understand, Willis,” she replied in a condescending voice. “You can’t get away. You will never get away. This is your life. You are stuck here with me… forever…”
She cackled like a delighted witch.
Tears clogged Willis’s throat. His body jerked when a metal covering lifted from the back of the bed and settled firmly on his head. He inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. He began to shake uncontrollably as he waited for what would happen next.
“I’ll never let you sleep again, Willis,” the woman whispered delightedly. “Never. Never. Never.”
A sudden burst of light covered Willis’s face, as if the sun was directly in front of him. He was immediately warm.
Soon, the heat would begin to burn his skin.
&nbs
p; ***
Jason stepped into Willis’ room. It was quiet, as always. He moved around, straightening equipment and making room for the man’s breakfast.
“Good-mornin’, Mr. Murphy,” he said cheerfully, glancing at the man in the wheelchair. He tilted his head to the side and gave Willis a curious look. “Now who put you in that wheelchair and just left you like that, staring at the floor? That’s not nice.”
Jason moved past the bed and went around to the back, grasping the handles of the wheelchair. “Let’s get you to a real nice spot, so you can look out at the sunlight. How does that sound?”
Jason took the brakes off the wheelchair and rolled Willis directly in front of the window. He bent down and looked at Willis’ lifeless, comatose face. “See how bright and sunny it is today, Mr. Murphy? And you’re on the side where you get to watch it all the way until sundown. You have a good day. I’ll be back later.”
He patted Willis on the back, feeling compassion for the man. He was a vegetable, and probably would be that way the rest of his life. Poor guy.
“Enjoy the sun, sir.”
Jason turned, pausing for a brief second when he thought he heard someone screaming, and left the room.
* * *
Siren Call
By Arwa Hezzah
I eyed him from across the bar, watching his every move. I had chosen him as my target only a few minutes ago, and since then, I watched him, studying everything he did; the way he moved, the way he talked, the little ticks he had. He was handsome, to say the least.
But then again, so were most of my targets.
I took a sip of whiskey, my eyes never leaving him. I glanced at the red mark my lipstick had left on the rim of the glass, wondering what its red would look like on his neck. I fixed my hair, making sure its dark strands fell down my shoulders and rested directly above my breasts, bringing attention to them. The air around me was thick with smoke, as the case usually was in bars like this. The room was dimly lit, keeping attention away from certain details. I knew that all those who sat around me were rich, but I had no interest in their money.
I wanted something else from them.
Something more passionate.
Once again, I brought my attention to him, studying his details. His dark hair was pushed back, its strands glistening slightly. His concentration was focused on his phone, its light brightening his features and reflecting against his green eyes. The way he sat beckoned attention; his legs were crossed and his hand rested directly under his defined jawline. He had loosened his maroon tie, allowing it to rest freely on his chest. I licked my lips in anticipation, waiting for the moment he lifted his eyes from his phone.
When he shifted, I shifted with him. I was unconsciously mimicking his movements. Without looking up, he put a hand in the pocket of his suit jacket, which hung on his chair, and pulled out a cigar. He definitely had money. People didn’t just bring cigars to a bar, unless they had money. I watched him pull out a lighter and light the tip of the cigar. The smoke rising in wisps around him made him look even more attractive. I unconsciously ran a finger across my bottom lip, eyeing him from head to toe.
He took his eyes off his phone for a moment. I made sure I was looking at him, beckoning him to notice me. Our eyes met for a moment, and I gave him a weak smile before turning away, a tactic I had used more than once. I saw he noticed me; his eyes had lingered on me for a moment. At that, I looked about the room, pretending to have something else on my mind. I could see a few men ogling me, thinking they had a chance. But, it was too late for them.
I had already chosen the man I was taking home tonight.
I looked back at him. The moment my eyes met his again, he turned away. The shy type, perhaps. He definitely didn’t look the part. I smiled lightly, looking away, hoping that he would look back at me. I finished my drink in one quick gulp, giving myself an excuse to leave my seat. I got up, my empty, lipstick-stained glass in hand, and headed to the bar.
“Scotch on the rocks,” I dictated to the bartender, my voice coming out in soft tones.
It was moments like this when I felt like the person speaking, doing all these things, wasn’t me. This side of me only came out at night, in the dark. I felt like I was two people at once; one moving me, making me do what I do, the other watching from inside, unable to control anything.
It took a moment for the bartender to fix my drink.
“Scotch on the rocks,” he announced, sliding the glass across the bar.
“Thanks.” I exhaled, turning around and heading back to my seat.
I stole a quick glance at my target, feeling his eyes follow me all the way back to my seat. I was now certain I had his attention. I sat back down with poise, pushing my hair back and then bringing its ends forward, over the black straps of my dress. I eyed him once and turned my gaze away.
He wasn’t looking at me.
It was time to make the next move. I picked up my clutch bag and brought it closer to my face, prying it open. I dug inside for my pack of cigarettes; my primary weapon. I pulled one out and placed it between my lips, not bothering to take the pack out of my purse. At that, I pretended to fumble for a lighter, looking from side to side, digging into my bag some more, checking the pockets of the coat that sat on the chair beside me. I knew he was watching. I knew he was going to make his way over any second.
I pretended to be frustrated, unable to find anything to light my cigarette with. It was at that moment that he showed up, hovering above me. He stood directly beside my chair. It was the first close look I got of him, and it made my heartbeat quicken, partly from excitement, partly from nervousness.
“Can I get that for you?” he asked, holding up a lighter.
I smiled and nodded silently, making sure not to give up too much just yet. I brought two fingers around the cigarette, holding it in place as he brought the flame closer. I took a long drag and blew it out.
“Thanks,” I exhaled, not letting my voice get too loud.
“So, what’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone at a bar like this?” he asked.
Of course, that was the line he was going to use.
“What’s a handsome man like you doing here, alone?” I replied, letting the ugly side of me take over.
I brought the cigarette back to my lips, watching him follow it with his eyes. I blew the smoke out, momentarily shrouding his view of me.
“Maybe I was hoping to meet a woman like you,” he said with a smirk.
The nervous tension between us was almost tangible, and I thrived off of it, letting it bring out the side of me I deemed monstrous.
“Mind if I join you?” he said, resting a hand on the velvet chair opposite me.
“Please,” I said, gesturing for him to sit down.
I had caught him in my web. Now all I had left to do was enjoy the thrill of devouring him whole, metaphorically speaking. I bit my lip as he sat down, eyeing him seductively. As soon as his eyes met mine, I looked down at the table, feigning timidity. I couldn’t let him see the more forward side of me just yet. I took another drag from my cigarette.
“Really, though,” he said, leaning closer to me. “What are you doing here alone?”
“What do people usually do at a bar?” I replied softly. “I came to enjoy a drink, a smoke, some chit-chat.”
“I see,” he said, mimicking my tone.
He introduced himself and I the same, giving him a fake name. We talked about useless nonsense for a while, both of us knowing exactly what we wanted out of our little conversation. I had him right where I wanted him. I grabbed my glass of whiskey, downing what remained.
“Can I buy you another one?” he asked.
They always asked to buy me another one.
“Sure,” I replied, putting the glass down.
He gestured for the waiter and asked for both of our drinks. As soon as he left, we gazed at each other, not saying anything. I could tell just what he was thinking from the look in his eyes.
“Yo
u know,” he started, eyeing me from head to toe, “you’re very attractive.”
I smiled faintly and bit my lip.
“You’re quite attractive yourself,” I said, putting my cigarette out.
I had him thinking exactly what I wanted, and I had him believing that I thought the same. The waiter came over with our drinks, placing them on the table before us. We didn’t take our eyes off each other, even as the waiter stood between us. I made sure his eyes met mine; it was how I kept his attention, how I put him under my spell.
I reached for my drink at once, taking my eyes off him for a moment. I sipped on it, and he watched me, eyes brooding.
“So,” I said, holding my glass to the side, “d’you want to get out of here?”
At first, he looked taken aback by how forward I was, almost as though he wasn’t expecting to hear something like that from me. It was just what I wanted. He said nothing for a moment, almost hesitating to answer.
“I don’t see a reason not to,” he answered eventually, attempting to keep his cool.
“Good,” I said with a sly smile.
At that, I emptied the contents of my glass, watching him follow my lead. Without hesitation, I rose from my seat and reached for the coat hanging on my chair. He did the same. Now, he was mimicking my movements. I shifted to the side, waiting for him to lead the way, sending the message he was in charge.
“After you,” he said.
I nodded, taking slow, inviting steps toward the door, my heels echoing on the ceramic tiles. As soon as we reached the door to the bar, he stepped in front of me, pulling the door open. Quite the gentleman.
Again, I smiled softly and said nothing, my eyes alone telling him exactly what he needed to hear. We left the bar and headed for his car, a Porsche. I hadn’t expected anything less of him. I eyed the car momentarily, and he watched me, awaiting my reaction to his prized possession. I let out an audible sigh, careful not to make him feel too proud; I still needed him trying to impress me.
He opened the door on the passenger’s side, letting me in. I stepped inside slowly, my black dress riding up my thigh, grabbing his attention. I watched him watch me, knowing I had him in my grasp. He smiled before closing the door and turning to get into the car himself.