by Sloan Archer
No, I thought with a shiver. I was best not to contemplate such things until after I was back inside the apartment, locked safely behind closed doors.
A twig cracked somewhere out in the trees behind me, and I nearly gave myself whiplash by whirling my head around to listen. I held my breath, waiting for the man with an axe to make an appearance. He didn’t show; perhaps he hadn’t heard my broadcast after all.
I walked faster, temporarily immersed in the absolute darkness that fell in-between the long gaps in the trail lights.
Just as I reached a second mile marker- only three left to go- I heard another twig snap. And then a few more. The noises sounded like they were getting progressively closer. Footsteps. Or maybe a horse galloping.
I stopped. So did the noises from within the trees.
“H-hello?” I called. “Is there somebody out there?”
I received no answer, which I couldn’t decide was more or less petrifying. I thought of the creature from my nightmare, wondering if he- it- was capable of speaking.
I jogged forward a bit, my joints screaming in protest. The noise from the trees started up again. I wheeled around, keyed up on terror.
“If somebody is out there, you should make yourself known,” I called into the darkness. I tried to sound nonchalant, as if maybe the person hiding in the woods and I were having some sort of huge misunderstanding. I held my breath again, hoping that a young backpacker was going to come stumbling out from amongst the trees, apologizing profusely for inadvertently scaring me.
But nothing happened.
Unable to rip my eyes away from the woods, I took a step. Another twig snapped from within the gloom.
I held my pepper spray out in front of me. My hand was shaking so badly, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hit a target that was fifty feet wide and placed two inches in front of me.
“Listen, dickwad! I’m armed, you hear me?” I hollered. “You come anywhere near me, and I will mace your ass into blind oblivion!”
I felt like a total moron screaming such a thing. I was about as tough as any 120 pound woman would be while stuck in the dark woods on her own, wearing skimpy pink jogging clothes, and carrying a ten dollar canister of nonlethal pepper spray. Yah, I was a regular Schwarzenegger.
I paused, my head cocked towards the maddeningly noiseless woodland. I took a few steps.
Then:
Snap.
Snap.
Clop.
Snap.
Clop.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Whoever- or whatever- was in the forest was now pursuing me.
I was not going to wait around to find out what it wanted.
I broke into a blind, knees-hitting-the-chest kind of sprint. I could hear the footsteps closing in on me over my panicked cries, advancing closer and closer. The thing was… cackling, mocking my terror sinisterly.
But I didn’t dare turn around.
Not until I reached the final mile marker.
Still running at full speed, I swiftly turned my head, letting out a confused yelp as I discovered that the trail behind me was empty.
Had I imagined it all? I slowed to a trot, gaping into the woods disbelievingly.
I was just about to place my foot on the ground when I froze.
Two inches below my shoe was a rattlesnake, its head reared back in preparation of a strike.
Before I could react, it snapped its head out at my leg. I leaped back off the dirt path, its open mouth missing me by a lucky centimeter.
I didn’t, however, escape completely unscathed.
I toppled over the edge of the trail ledge, losing my pepper spray somewhere in the dirt. I plummeted down into the black forest, scraping my hands and knees on rocks and tree trunks. Like spare change forgotten in a dryer, I tumbled and tumbled until I finally landed in a mass of thorny branches.
It was Mathew I heard this time, not Liz: I’m losing my shit.
I howled like I had never howled before in my entire life, fighting against the spiky twigs- or were they fingers - slicing into my skin and pulling at my hair. I screamed, not over the pain, but over the trepidation of being helpless against the rattlesnake slithering down to bite me, the ax murderer coming to chop off my head, and the thing… slipping down into the darkness to steal my soul.
I finally broke free, scrambled back up the ridge, and found my way onto the trail. Had it not been for the apartment complex in the distance lighting the way, I may have spent the entire night lost in the darkness of the forest.
I ran towards the exit of the trail, dragging broken pieces of twigs behind me on the dirt. I didn’t stop running until I reached the front door to my apartment.
This time, I did not look back.
THIRTEEN
Once I was under the glaring light inside my apartment, it was easy to realize just how silly I’d been on the trail.
I felt a little ridiculous. There had been no boogeyman chasing after me. I’d let my imagination get the better of me, traumatized by the ghostly horseman in my dream. Still, I wouldn’t be running at night anytime in the near future.
I went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. My workout gear was snagged and destroyed, with small holes and skid marks here and there. I evaluated my wounds which, amazingly, weren’t all that bad. My palms and knees were raw and pink, with a few minor scrapes covered in dirt. My legs were covered in scratches. Some were bleeding, but nothing that wouldn’t be healed in a couple of days. My injuries could have been a lot worse, so I considered myself lucky. But I’d definitely looked better.
My hair was what was the most upsetting. My ponytail had come lose during my scuffle with the branches, and now it lay matted against my face in an angry snarl. There were bits of twigs and leafs woven through the tangles, along with a small remnant of a spider web. I shuttered to think where its maker had been hiding during my journey down into the shadowy forest.
I picked the debris from my tresses, and then hobbled into the shower. The warm water felt amazing on my sore muscles, so I decided to take a bath instead. I plugged the drain, poured in some lavender scented Epsom salts, and lay back as the healing water began to swathe my scuffed skin. I focused on my breathing- inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale- until my heart slowed from its jackhammer pace.
I held up my hand. It was hardly shaking anymore. I pulled the shower curtain closed on the outside of the tub, giving the bath a womblike effect. A grey washcloth floated at the top of the salty water like a jellyfish. I pulled it out and placed it over my face, the comforting scent of lavender filling my nostrils.
Sometime later, I jolted awake with a cry. The water sloshed up against my shampoo and conditioner bottles in small waves, knocking them into the tub.
I must have dozed for quite a while. The water was now only tepid, and my skin was covered in goose bumps.
I fished the bottles out of the tub and pulled the plug. Drawing back the shower curtain, I grabbed my bathrobe and threw it over my shivering body.
And then I saw it.
Drawn in the steam covering the mirror was a smiley face. The corners of its lips had started to drip, giving its mouth a blurry set of long fangs.
Next to the face was a greeting:
Hi Mercy.
“Liz?” I called, though I knew that she wouldn’t be home for hours.
No answer.
I remained motionless for the next five minutes, my heart thudding against my chest. I thought of the creature chasing me in the woods, contemplating the likelihood of it being able to sneak into the bathroom and draw on the mirror while I slept in the bathtub.
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed plausible that Liz had drawn on the mirror. It was, after all, a smiley face, and not some threat to strangle me in my sleep. Skin oils could stay on glass for days; it was a well-known fact! For all I knew, Liz could have drawn it last week and I was just now noticing it.
Yes. That was it. Liz would totally do something like that, too. She was
always leaving funny notes for me, and sending joke texts with photos of animals dressed up in weird Halloween costumes.
Profoundly relieved, I went into my bedroom to return Michael’s call.
I looked at the missed calls log on my phone and suffered a bout of irritation. Mathew had called six more times while I was on my run. Six!
At least I was no longer scared. Now I was pissed. The last thing I needed was for my despicable ex to come sniffing around, screwing up my (vaguely) happy life once again.
I didn’t even bother to listen to his messages. I hit delete the very instant he began speaking. I’d had just about enough of him.
Feeling an awful pit in my stomach, I dialed the number Michael had left earlier. The thought of having to deal with another scathing exchange with Marlena made me feel queasy; I would have rather encountered the rattlesnake again.
The line rang so many times that I didn’t think Michael was going to answer, but he finally picked up on the fifth ring.
“Hello?” he chimed.
“Hi Michael,” I said as pleasantly as possible. “I’m just returning your
call.”
“Oscar!” he bellowed. “How in the hell have you been?”
“Michael, it’s Mercy,” I clarified.
“I was just thinking about you, old buddy,” he prattled on. He sounded like he was opening and closing doors. “I have not seen you since Lincoln was president. How are you these days?”
“Uh, it’s Mercy,” I repeated.
“Uh-huh,” he muttered. “I will definitely have to head over to Barcelona to see it for myself.” Another door opened and then closed.
“Michael, I-”
“I do not have long to talk, so listen up, girl!” he hissed quietly. “I have got to tell you a few things before the wife comes and checks on me.”
“Oh, okay…”
“First of all, I want to tell you how sorry I am about Marlena’s earlier behavior. She was totally out of line. But when she gets angry like that, it is just best to let her have her rant. You simply cannot argue with the woman,” he muttered exasperatedly.
“No problem. Marlena was right, though,” I said dutifully. “She did tell me the rules when I accepted the job.”
“Hogwash! She was rude to you and you know it!”
“Okay.” I didn’t venture to say more. The man was married to the woman, after all. That was dangerous territory I did not want to enter.
“Listen,” he whispered furiously. “As you know, Marlena and I do not agree on a few policies. I see no good reason to turn away clients if they are not causing any harm to my chaperones. The short of it is that Robert has called and booked more dates with you.”
My entire body tingled. “He did?” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “He did?” I asked casually.
“Yes! Three of them.” He sighed. “I hate lying to my wife, Mercy. I really do. But at the end of the day, I am a businessman…”
His voice trailed off, and then he said something muffled. Marlena had sniffed him out. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like being married to a person that I had to hide from in order to make cloak-and-dagger phone calls on behalf of my own business.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I must hang up soon. Anyway, I have approved the outings with Robert, however, I have written his name down in the books under a pseudonym. If Marlena asks in the future, tell her that you have been chaperoning a man named Samuel Eggerty. You are scheduled to go out with- eh-hem- Samuel tomorrow night. I have given him your number so you two can sort out the details. The less I know, the better.”
“Got it. Thanks, Michael,” I sang.
“Alright, old buddy,” he said cheerfully. “We will definitely have to catch up soon. Give my love to Susana. Okay, Bye!”
And then he hung up.
I made sure that the phone was off on my end, and then I jumped up and down on my bed like a kid on Christmas, letting out a shriek. It was like winning the lottery; the gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy vampire lottery!
I was still bouncing around on my bed when my phone rang.
Mathew!
Again.
Enough was enough.
I hit answer. “What?” I snapped. “Or rather, what is it, Mathew, that is so important that you’ve needed to call me five million times within the last twenty four hours?’”
He was sobbing.
“Hello?” I spat coldly. “Are you still there?”
“I miss you, Mercy!” he wailed. “I miss you so much!”
I was not moved by his sniveling. If anything, it only annoyed me further. “Why are you calling? I mean, what is it that you actually need?” I sighed scornfully for his benefit. “I really don’t have time for this. So if you could just get to the point…”
“I need to talk to you, baby!”
“Ha! That’s rich!” I snorted. I despised taking his bait, but I just couldn’t help myself. He infuriated me down to the bone marrow. “That’s hilarious, Mathew. Because when I needed to talk to you months ago, you couldn’t be bothered to return any of my calls.”
“I know! And I was such an idiot back then. I’ve see the light, Mercy. I messed up bad!”
I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples. “The only thing you’ve seen, Mathew, is a newspaper with a photo of me with another man. Now you’re jealous and- what- you expect for me just to come crawling back to you?”
“But I need you!” he howled.
“What you need, Mathew,” I said calmly, “is to get a fucking life.”
I hung up on him, then, feeling my blood boil for the second time that day. So much for my relaxing bath.
Two seconds later, my phone rang.
“What?” I yelled into the receiver. “Seriously, this is getting beyond pathetic. What are you doing, trying to trick me by calling from another number?” I sneered. “Wow! You really fooled me!”
“Mercy?” asked a sexy voice.
Oh, no!
“Robert?” I asked, cringing. I smacked myself on the forehead.
“Yes,” he said steadily. “Is everything all right?”
I laughed nervously. Damn Mathew and his stupid path of destruction. Sucked in once again!
“Oh yes. I’m great.” I laughed once more. “Stupid telemarketers.”
I felt bad for deceiving Robert, but I figured that it was less train wreck than saying, “No, I’m actually not okay, Robert. My cheating ex, Mathew, who I discovered screwing some skank in the bed we once shared, has been calling me nonstop since seeing the photo of the two of us. Oh, did I also mention that after we broke up, I found out that Mathew had been cheating on me pretty much from the first day we moved in together? Oh, yes, and one of his many mistresses even called me one day looking for him because she thought she might be pregnant with his baby. You think that it would have made me feel better knowing that I wasn’t the only woman Mathew skipped out on, but it actually made me realize that I’d been an even bigger fool than I’d believed.”
I thought that it would be best to leave out the Jerry Springer details of my previous relationship. Besides, I seriously doubted that a debonair man like Robert would have any similar experiences of his own to impart.
“You seem very angry,” he mused. He sounded like he was smiling.
“Oh, you know,” I said flippantly. “They keep calling me. They just don’t know when to give up.” Just like Mathew.
“I see.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“So, I spoke to Michael,” I said, changing topics. “He said that you booked me for three whole dates?”
“Yes. The first one is scheduled for tonight. If you are free?”
“Yes. I’m free.” As is I’d ever turn the man down. I looked at the clock; not much time to get ready.
“Excellent. You do not need to worry about dressing up,” he said, easing my worries. “I am taking you to the theatre. It is a playhouse run by vampires, so I thought perhaps you would find it interesting.”
&n
bsp; “Wow! Really? That sounds amazing, Robert!”
“Yes. We are watching a show that is a satire of sorts. It’s called Interview with the Human.”
I laughed. “Cool. I can’t wait.”
“Shall I pick you up around ten?”
“Sure,” I said, and provided him with my address. “So,” I ventured shyly, “I’m curious. Why did you book so many dates with me?”
“Well, if am to be perfectly candid, I must admit that my reasons are very selfish.”
“They are?”
“Yes. I want to keep you to myself,” he said impishly. “I simply cannot get you out of my head, Mercy. But I am aware of the policy Dignitary has against dating chaperones. Well, I should say that I am now that Marlena has called.”
“She called you?”
“Yes. She can be quite unpleasant.”
He had no idea. “Yes. She can.”
“So, I figured that the only way around our… obstacle was to book more outings. I would feel terrible if you lost your job over me.”
I was touched. “That’s very sweet. And I have been thinking about you, too, Robert.”
“I also felt very humbled after the evening we spent together,” he said in his sensual speech. “I do wish that I would not have carried on so much about myself. I hardly know anything about you, yet you know an awful lot about me.”
“Yes, but I’m certain that your history is a lot more interesting than mine.”
“I guess I will just have to find out for myself,” he said seductively.
“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.” I mentioned this teasingly, but it was something I seriously worried about. How could I parallel the rich history that Robert had contained within him? Wouldn’t my childhood experiences spent at the trailer park fall flat when compared to his vivid encounters of becoming a vampire, going from rags to riches, and meeting all sorts of interesting characters of the past?
Would he still consider me an enchanting princess?
FOURTEEN
As it turned out, Robert did not treat me like an enchanting princess on our three dates.