Paranormal Anthology with a TWIST

by Bart Hopkins

  “Remember, I love you!”

  “I love you too—need you,” she said with a whimper before hitting the button to end the call.

  Anger coursed through Dom’s body; an electric shock jolting him into action. He contemplated going against Rose’s wishes and calling the police again. She didn’t sound stable enough to be at home by herself. But what would he do? What would he say? He didn’t know who hurt her or the extent of her injuries. It might be best if he assessed the situation in person before making such a drastic move.

  He punched the starter button, and Betty Lou roared to life, like a lioness ready to pounce. He cranked the stereo to max volume, causing Eminem to pound through the speakers, shaking the cab with the power of the music. Shifting into gear, he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and the engine growled—a similar sound slipping from Dom’s lips as he beat his fist against the steering wheel in pace with the song. The intensity of the anger surged through Dom and the engine revved to meet his ferocity with equal passion. They barreled down the highway like animals on the hunt; their passion synchronizing as they flew forward into the blazing horizon.

  Rose smiled as she put her phone down. He had fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker. She knew he would. He wore his heart on those worn flannel sleeves. He was one rare bird of a man. She usually steered clear of guys like Dominic, but something about him had drawn her in that night, almost two years ago. They’d both been on the prowl at a local nightclub, Eclipse di Luna—and not necessarily for each other. It was a magnetic attraction that could not be ignored. They enjoyed that night, and a few more, before she discovered that Dom was a truck driver—an over-the-road, long haul driver. He was the perfect man—able to fulfill her wants, needs, and occasional desires—hers to control, not underfoot every day, and giving a required freedom that a traditional relationship hindered.

  He was a good man; never failed to take care of her, no matter how crazy her requests might be. Thanks to Dom, the rent was paid, the bills were not an issue, and she had many pretty things to call her own. Now was not the time to reminisce though—now was the time to prepare. Preparation was the key to success. She had very little time to waste. She cleaned the tools methodically, placing them in the cabinet. She mopped the floor with the bleach first, and then the Biokleen disinfectant. Finished, she rushed back home to clean up and give herself a makeover to die for.

  Dom was just outside of Atlanta on I-285 and nearing his exit for his delivery. He already called the loading dock operator and told him there was no way he could make it until he checked on his girl. He contemplated making it anyway, knowing he had made good time. But the deliveries didn’t always go smoothly and one snag in it would have caused him to blow a fuse. The tension was already pouring from him like a suffocating fog. Over the phone, the operator sensed he was not to be messed with and finally agreed the delivery could wait until the afternoon.

  With the stress of the delivery out of his way, he raced to the company lot. As an owner/operator, it was nice to have the privileges that were afforded him with his company. He had worked his way up the ladder, paid his dues, earned a good reputation, and made a name for himself. Special clients started requesting, and then demanding, that he be their driver. He had things to be proud of, things worth living for, and things worth fighting for.

  He yanked off I-285, onto Constitution, got ‘Betty Lou” parked and locked up, then hopped into his Dodge Durango and began the short drive over to Rose’s campus area apartment. The clock on his dashboard read nine forty-five a.m. He was making great time.

  He originally hoped tonight would be a new beginning for them. He thought of the velvet box that sat in his pocket and prayed he would have the chance to ask her soon. He desperately needed a hot shower, but his lady needed him—the idea fueled his anger. His hopes of proposing someday waged war with the emotional outrage he felt for the garbage that had hurt his beautiful lady. He had no idea the extent of damage Rose had endured. His heart burned with hatred for the unknown attacker, and ached with love for his precious, hazel-eyed girl.

  Rose found Janice buried under a blanket on the couch, an ice pack on her forehead, the curtains shut tight. Another migraine, another drama scene. Unbearable! She was close to smacking her upside the head and stuffing her in the closet. She was tired of playing nurse. She had no time for it. An argument ensued, tempers flared, unspoken words suddenly spewed forth. Hurt, angry, and dejected, Janice relented and agreed to go over to a friend’s place to stay for the night. Janice had only given in because it was Dominic coming—and not Kevin.

  The tussle with Janice made it a fast makeover. She looked in the mirror—what a shame to soil such beauty, yet the deed must be done. She pulled her makeup kit from under the sink—her deluxe, costume-grade kit. No typical color palette would meet her needs today. She blended a variety of base creams to get the perfect shade of paleness, thoroughly covering her face and upper torso. A little ochre blended into the base helped her create the faded bruises on her arms, and around her neck and wrists. She dragged her beautifully manicured nails repeatedly down her abdomen and arms, bringing blood. She allowed this to flow and mix with the makeup, and then wrapped gauze bandages around her arms. She flexed her arms, forcing more blood to flow, soaking the bandages a bit. Medium violet, Phthalo blue, buff, mars black, and titanium white were placed on her palette. With the colors, she worked to make her eyes look sunken, bruised, and abused. More vibrant bruising was added to her neck, resembling fingerprints embedded within the skin.

  Makeup attended to, it was now time for the costume and final touches. She dug in an antique trunk she stored in the corner of her room, clothing flying everywhere. Sweatpants, check. Ratty t-shirt with stains topped by an oversized cardigan, definitely. Slouch socks with house slippers, absolutely. Checking the clock, she shrieked; she had mere minutes to finish.

  Back to the bathroom, she took a rat-tail comb and teased her hair into a snarled mess. For the finishing touch, she ripped off the fake nails, leaving her hands looking bland and damaged. She looked into the mirror, smiled once, and then dropped into character. She looked the part of a wounded animal. Now it was time to play the role to the best of her natural abilities. She’d been acting since she was able to talk—today should be no different.

  At just two minutes after ten, she heard a knock on the door. Dom was known for his prompt arrivals. She shuffled to the door, embracing the character, and slowly opened it a smidgen to peek out at him.

  Dominic saw a dark, haunted eye peering from a slit in the doorway. The anger flared through his body like a fire eating kindling for lunch. Her perfect hazel eyes were not twinkling and he wanted to kill the bastard who had done this to her.

  Softly, with tenderness, he spoke, “Baby, let me in. I would never hurt you. Let me in so I can hold you.” He waited for her to open the door, fists clenched with rage. He breathed deeply holding the beast within. His anger is better left unseen if there was any hope of her allowing him in to comfort her. He waited, trying to be as patient as possible, but fighting to maintain the ruse.

  Slowly, Rose finally opened the door enough for him to slip in. He kicked the door behind him, slamming it shut as he gently brought her into his arms, holding her against his chest. He gradually brought one hand up and brushed the hair back from her face to look into her eyes. How he wished to see them twinkle, but they just looked like lost, sunken in, bruised pools of pain. Rose shifted in his arms, and that was when he saw them. Bruises and scratches marring her arms, neck, and who knew where else. The beast howled, fighting to be released, causing him to squeeze her a little too hard. She pushed him back, looking frightened by him—a look he wanted to erase from her face as quickly as he had put it there.

  “Rose, honey, I’m so sorry. I just am so angry,” he said. “Not at you, of course, but at the bastard who did this to you.” He reached out to her, but she turned and walked away. He followed her into the living room where she slumped on the couch. She loo
ked so miserable—so fragile—in need of tender, loving care. He could do that for her. His mind wandered to the velvet box he now had in his pocket. He could provide more security and love than she ever dreamed of. But now was not the time for talk of marriage. She was too emotional, too fragile. Now, he just needed to be there for her—and find the asshole that hurt his lovely Rose.

  In a parking lot across the city, a loud growling noise shattered the peaceful afternoon, and a green glow spread across a concrete jungle.

  Rose looked at Dom from hooded eyes. She couldn’t believe how well he had reacted to her “supposed” condition. This performance would be easier than taking candy from a baby. The time had come to see how the game played out. Would he take the bait or sink to the bottom? She patted the couch next to her, hoping he would get the hint and sit down. Naturally, he did. He reached for her and she leaned over and laid her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating—so strong.

  She hitched her breath and body a few times to give the appearance that she was crying, breaking down in his manly embrace. Just as she expected, he started to rub her hair. With each stroke of his hand, she could feel the tension continue to build in his body. He was a strong one—that was certain. She had fed on that strength for two years—now the time had come to feast upon it.

  “Seriously, Rose—what happened? Who did this? When did it happen? Why didn’t you call me?” he asked in rapid-fire order. His mind formulated an extreme picture of vengeance, but he needed her cooperation for that to come to fruition. She shifted in his arms and looked up at him, a tiny smile on her face that seemed more like a look of discomfort than glee. As always, he was drawn into her eyes, sinking deeply into the swirling color.

  “I was walking home from class the other night and this guy came up to me,” she said softly. “He seemed like a good guy—a normal person—you know, a safe person. I found myself talking and walking with him. Everything seemed okay until I realized I didn’t recognize where I was. I started to panic. I wanted to scream, but he must have sensed my fear. He grabbed me and stuffed a wet rag in my mouth,” she said, fear causing her voice to tremble. “I think I passed out. I woke up with a screaming headache. Looking around, I realized I was trapped.”

  Dominic fought the burning rage building in his body. His eyes glinted with fury. A vein in his neck throbbed in rhythm to his anger. His pulse skyrocketed. He might be a guy who drove a truck day and night, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take someone on in a fight and finish it swiftly. He took a couple of deep breaths and prayed that Rose would stay on track. Fear had a funny way of making people babble, and he needed her to stay focused so he could get enough details from her to vindicate her honor—so that justice could be served.

  Rose flinched from the grasp Dom had on her. Anger radiated from him. Of course, this was her intention, but she didn’t want to end up really hurt. Her eyes were set on Kevin and all that he could offer her. Looking at Dom, she knew she would miss him, but she also knew she didn’t love him. She knew he loved her though. Hopefully, this would nip it all in the bud and life could go on as she planned. Her plans were everything to her, and she rarely failed. She snuggled into him closer, hoping to calm his tension. She needed his emotions to function, but not for him to become out of control.

  “It was dark, but I knew I wasn’t alone. He was there. He raped me, beat me, and kept me locked up. I thought I was a goner for sure. I almost wished it would just end. Day and night meant nothing. Time was irrelevant.” She sighed, stopping to let what she said sink in. She felt Dom’s tension increase even more. Before he could respond, she continued her tale. “Sleep came on and off. When I thought I wouldn’t last another minute, it came to an end. Oddly, he returned me to the same spot on the campus where I first met him. I woke up groggily to find people staring at me. Voices talked at me, others screamed around me. Chaos followed. Campus security came running. 911 was called and they rushed me to the hospital.” She paused, and he hugged her. “The police came and a report was filed. The doctors fixed the physical wounds. A psychiatrist came to talk to me. I had no answers for anyone. I just wanted to run away. Finally, they released me. Janice brought me home and I just stayed in bed after that,” she said, curling further into his lap.

  He held her closely, picturing her lying broken on the campus grounds. There were no words for the emotions that were building within him—nothing that could describe the fury. He would get vengeance—that much he knew. As his anger seethed, it fueled the beast, giving it more power, more control, and the strength to act if action was needed.

  “I’m so sorry that this happened and even sorrier that I wasn’t here when you needed me.” He hugged her closely. “I love you more than anything and can’t handle that I wasn’t here to protect you. That’s my job, damn it! I failed you and that is not acceptable. I need to fix this. Do you have any clues as to where you may have been held?” he asked her.

  She looked confused for a second and he thought he had scared her again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her more, but he needed an idea of where to look for the bastard who’d hurt his hazel-eyed girl. He watched her closely as the minutes passed—worried he had tripped her memories in the wrong direction. Just as he was going to tell her to forget it, she spoke.

  “I think I was in a warehouse. It was so dark, so cold.” She shivered and shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’ve thought about the noises. I heard noises the whole time.” She suddenly got excited and almost shrieked. “There was water! I swear I heard water and maybe even fishermen.” She seemed suddenly very animated to Dom. He knew she was excited, but for him, the clues didn’t help that much. He sat and thought on it for a few minutes.

  Rose watched him closely, gauging his reaction. She was about to tell him more when he suddenly stood up and stomped across the room, standing next to the entertainment unit, a pensive look on his face. She knew now was not the time for her to roll the dice in the intricate game she was playing. Dom held them now. She waited patiently, yet grew more frustrated at the same time. Her frustration intensified as she looked at the clock. Time was slipping away from her, faster than she dared admit. She was thinking of going over to him, when he turned and walked back to her. He reached down for her hands. She took his and let him lift her into his strong embrace, almost too strong.

  He had thought about it and knew that tonight had to be the night. He couldn’t wait any more. Tonight he would make Rose his… forever. Holding her tightly, he knew that she completed him and would for eternity—his soul told him so. Never before had his soul spoken so strongly to him. No time to dwell on that now though, he had things to do. The first was to get his Rose ready.

  “Sweet Rose, my love. Are you ready to get out of this apartment?” he asked her, nudging her under the chin to look at him. “I’d like to take you out—away from this prison you’ve made for yourself—and remind you that the world can be a good place.” He thought she would refuse at first, knowing full well she had every reason to be moody.

  “I think I would like to get out of the apartment, but not so sure I’m presentable enough for any place nice. Maybe we can just go for a walk.” She smiled shyly. Slowly backing away, she said, “I need to freshen up first. There’s a bottle of wine I was about to nurse on. Help yourself to a glass while you wait.”

  “Take your time, baby,” he said with a slight chuckle. He knew she’d take a while. He headed over to the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of the red wine. It wasn’t his favorite beverage, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was his fragile little flower and he would do anything to keep her smiling. Drinking wine, instead of a good, cold beer, was a small inconvenience he could handle.

  Rose waited on the other side of the bedroom door and listened. It wasn’t long before she heard the distinct thud of a body hitting the floor. She shifted into high gear. There was a lot to do and not much time to do it in. She had places to go. Rushing out of the bedroom, she promptly ro
lled the tarp out over the bailing twine lines she had laid down first. Hastily, she rolled Dominic onto the tarp, wrapping it around him tightly, and tied the twine in the secure knots she had learned from a Navy man. Heading to the utility closet, she reached to the very back and popped open the secret door. She had installed it when Janice wasn’t home one weekend after they’d moved in. From within the space, she retrieved the hospital laundry bin she had stolen during a very brief stint as a gift-shop volunteer. She hefted the body into the bin, popped the sides up, and then threw a batch of old towels she had collected on top of the tarp. She had brought a vehicle to the apartment the night before and tucked it away in the garage, near the elevator. She grabbed her purse and keys and left the apartment with her laundry… as far as anyone knew. Other tenants already deemed her a bit quirky.

  She took the old back elevator, once used for freight when the building had served another purpose. She didn’t like the spooky, creaky, old beast of a machine for fear it would stop and she would be trapped one day, but sacrifices were a required part of the lifestyle. The elevator groaned to a stop and the doors opened slowly to reveal the dim parking garage. There were times she feared she would happen across the maintenance man who had a way of showing up in strange places at inopportune times. She crept to the wall and peered around the corner to check both ways before pulling her “laundry” to her vehicle. The vehicle was an Astro van that she kept for the dirtier duties she had to deal with. She slid the side door open and quickly transferred her load into the back end. She collapsed the laundry bin and stored that in the back with the bundle. Securing the side door, she looked around before getting into the driver’s seat. Starting the van, she headed on her way. She hated driving the van, but the tinted windows and missing seats in the rear compartment provided her ample space and anonymity to do what she did.