Ancient Blood: The Fallen

by Renea Taylor

  With each loud outburst, I'd found myself flinching, and though I was used to storms, as it was impossible to live in a subtropical climate and not be, the storms of the last few months had been angrier, almost aggressive in their intensity.

  As had the storm of last night, for it had taken ages for the squalls tantrum to end. Finally, after it had played itself out, I'd at last begun to settle enough that I’d thought I might be able to get some much desired sleep.

  However, the slow torture of a water drip had insinuated its way into my consciousness, sending me out of bed, and in frustrated pursuit of something to catch the drips as I'd screamed, “really?”

  Now grumbling over the restless night, I crossed the hard wood floor and entered the bathroom, glancing in the mirror I stared dejectedly at the dark circles beneath my eyes.

  Then grimacing at my image, I stuck my tongue out at my reflection and grabbed my hair-brush, jerking it through my hair, afterward pulling the strands into a ponytail, before quickly running a toothbrush across my teeth and then exiting the bathroom.

  Snatching a pair of jean shorts from the top of the dresser, I made my way over to the closet, and as I slid into the shorts, I roughly removed a t-shirt from a hanger, leaving the contorted piece of metal swinging on the rod as I slipped the top over my head and arms. Shimmying the shirt the rest of the way down until it settled over the top of my shorts, I stretched a leg into the bottom of the closet, wiggling my foot around until I found what I sought.

  Raking the tennis shoes towards me from the depths within, I stuffed my sock-less feet into the battered footwear, and turned without a backwards glance, as I headed out of the room.

  Thirty minutes later, my purse practically turned inside out and after a thorough search of the living room and kitchen for my missing keys, I stood with my hands on my hips blowing out frustrated puffs of breath.

  Then, a silvery glint from beneath the coffee table caught my attention, and making a disbelieving face, I made my way over to the table.

  Dropping to my knees, I bent and peered beneath its girth, swearing loud and expressively when I saw the jumble of keys. Then, with the air still blue from the words that had slipped from my lips, I snatched the keys.

  Jerking back to my feet, I sprinted across the room, grabbed my purse and practically ran out of the cottage, and as the door slammed shut behind me, I screamed, “you can have the damn place,” for the displacement of my keys meant something had been in the cottage, just as I'd thought after I’d returned from the club last night.

  Fifteen seconds after climbing in the cab of my pickup, I tore down the drive, only easing off the gas when my teeth snapped together and the truck rattled out a groan of protest as its right tire fell into a pothole with a jarring thud, before bouncing back out onto the dirt packed path with another jarring snap of my teeth, and a coppery taste that immediately flared to life in my mouth from the small laceration where I'd bitten my tongue.

  Testing the tender tip against the back of my teeth, I screwed up my face in an effort to still the multitude of unpleasantness that wanted to slip forth. However, I only partially succeeded as two that wouldn’t be denied, slipped from between my lips in a long heartfelt exclamation, then pulling my lips into a grim smile, I swore to myself that come hell or high water, I wasn't going to let anything else ruin the rest of my day.

  I was able to keep that promise all the way through the store as I shopped for groceries, my cabinets and refrigerator clearly reflecting their neglect. I even made it through paying too much for the meager amount I'd picked up, but when I made it back to the pickup, all sorts of vile words broke loose when I spotted the flat tire on the rear of my truck!

  The air around me was still smarting from the tongue-lashing it had received before I managed to rein in my temper. Then, calmly I pulled open the passenger door of the truck, placed the bag of groceries on the seat, afterward quietly shutting the door before I turned, and with a well-aimed kick, nailed the offending tire.

  However, even in its deflated, pathetic condition, the tire got the last laugh, for the joke was on me when it fought back, giving as good as it got. I found myself uttering a painful yelp as a bolt of lightening shot through my big toe, crawled its way into what felt like every bone in my foot before continuing its assault in a journey up my calf.

  Doubling over, I sucked in air as moisture filled my eyes, then for several seconds I battled the pressing grayness that foretold of encroaching unconsciousness.

  Finally, the pain began to subside enough that it allowed me to stand upright again. Several more minutes passed before I was confident enough that neither my toe, nor my foot were broken, as through the sheen of angry tears that still lingered in my eyes, I hobbled around to the back of the truck and prepared to change the tire.

  Thirty minutes later, the felonious tire changed, I was slamming the drivers door shut behind me as I muttered, “God, just let me get through this day,” fervently praying that no more mishaps occurred before I was able to get home in one piece.

  Thankfully, nothing else went wrong, and I sent up my gratitude as I turned into my drive. Creeping back over the dirt ruts of my driveway, I prayed that my luck continued, and that I managed to get the eggs from point A to point B without breaking them, and winding up with runny, scrambled yolks all over my seat.

  It seemed the fates were with me, for my groceries and I both made it inside without another single crack or laceration, and the only visible sign of the rotten trip to town was a cut on my tongue, and the swollen black and purple digit that faintly resembled a big toe!

  * * *

  An hour later I was poised in front of my canvas, prepared to run my brush across its empty surface the second inspiration struck, when a loud squawk issued from between my lips, for I heard what sounded to be a whisper right next to my ear.

  Jerking around, I grabbed a nearby vase and whirled about, eyes wide as they encircled the room, where in the hell had that came from, I wondered, for the room was utterly empty, yet I knew it hadn't just been my imagination, no, not this time, someone had whispered in my damn ear!

  Turning I fled from the room, wondering just what in the hell this thing was that was playing with me, for it was a something that I couldn't see, nor touch!

  What the whisper had said I had no idea, and to be honest, really didn’t give a damn for the fact was, I wasn't about to ask it to repeat itself. For all I knew it was the same creature of demise that I'd already chanced upon twice now.

  Glancing at the vase I still held like a weapon in my hands, I gently set it on a nearby table, thinking to myself that a fat lot of good it would do me, for I couldn't even see what I was supposed to be hitting with it! Besides, the only thing I'd probably wind up injuring with the blasted thing, was myself!

  Scuttling over to the center of the living room, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I felt as if it was going to come through and land at my feet, I stood there, crouched ninja style, coasting around in my head what to do.

  Maybe I should tell someone, but tell them what?

  That I was hearing voices? That I was being watched, watched by something that, though I couldn’t be positive, I was nonetheless pretty damn certain was death itself! And guess what would happen? I'd have my butt admitted to the nearest Loony-bin is what would happen, and have my ass declared nuts!

  I knew I wasn't bonkers, I knew that the thing pursuing me was real and by no means my imagination, however, if I'd heard someone else uttering the same story, I myself would have a hard time believing of their sanity.

  Slowly time passed with no further whispers or any other occurrences, and my bladder finally managed to convince me that I was going to have to move, at first lightly complaining its neglect, then as I'd continued to ignore its pleas, it began to express quite clearly what was going to happen if I didn't obey its demands.

  Then it was my turn to plead as I miserably trotted towards the bathroom, coaxing my nagging organ the whole way to ju
st hang in there a few seconds longer.

  Barely having escaped disaster, and with both me and my bladder happy at last, I exited the bathroom and found myself standing in the hallway, trying to summon up the courage to head back towards my studio, and whatever uninvited guest it, hopefully, no longer contained.

  Finally convincing myself to put one foot in front of the other, I made my way down the hall and found myself pausing at the entrance of the room. I peered inside, and let my eyes wonder, for though the room was flooded with light from the over head lamps dotted about the ceiling, revealing every nook and cranny to my saucer sized eyes, I was having problems talking myself into going any further into the room.

  At last, taking a deep breath and calling myself a chicken, I pushed myself to step the rest of the way through the doorway. With breath shuddering out through my lips, I realized I was expecting something, anything and had, unknowingly, been preparing myself for battle.

  However, when nothing out of the ordinary occurred, and though I felt silly for doing it, I began tiptoeing towards my painting table where, reaching out, I hurriedly replaced caps on paint tubes and refastened the top on the jar of linseed oil.

  Quickly finding at that point, that staying within the room any longer than necessary was of an utmost undesirable situation, I turned and fled the room like the chicken I'd called myself.

  However, I'd no more entered the hallway than I began to tingle from head to toe, my emotional state having triggered the unpredictable side of my ability, and a small firestorm filled the air around me, causing me to gasp, for it began to visibly shoot around the small space in arcs of flames, something I'd never seen it do before.

  The searing power of its fury revealed itself in a crackling voice that joined my own shout of “oh shit” as I ducked into a squat of protection.

  Orange sweeps of fire shot about my head in a dizzying myriad of acrobatics before bouncing off the walls, leaving behind dime size spots, glowing red and smoking on the surface of the walls wherever the flames touched. Then, just as fast as it appeared, the storm vanished, and I was left staring around with my brows dented above my eyes in a huge frown of disbelief as I gazed at the obsidian space of the hallway.

  My mind was stunned, my thinking jumbled. What in the hell had just happened, I wondered. The display I'd just witnessed had been in a league of ability that, up to that point, I'd never attained. In fact, what I'd just witnessed scared the shit out of me, for in comparison, the displays of my past had been infantile against what had just battered my hallway.

  The hint of burnt matches that still lingered within the darkness was stronger than usual, burning my nostrils and sinuses with its pungent odor as, glancing around I blinked.

  Suddenly I realized that the darkness was so complete it made me wonder if maybe I'd gone blind, then found myself wishing I'd gone deaf as well, for a multitude of whispers assaulted my ears, seemingly to come from all around me.

  Whisper after whisper intermingled, one riding over the other until they became a loud jumble within my ears, deafening me to any other sound but their eerie echo. My body began to tremble, shaking with fear as the darkness took shape and I made to bolt, but I was too late for I slithered to the floor, the darkness not only consuming the space around me, but my mind as well.

  * * *

  From out of that darkness, I regained consciousness, my senses dulled, thoughts scattered, mind feeling like putty. A slight sense of amnesia claimed me, for I couldn't recall what I'd been doing just moments earlier. Gingerly I tried to move my arms, finding the effort to be in vain, for they felt heavy and weighted, tingly, numb, as though they'd fallen asleep, my legs as well seemed to be consumed by the strange lethargy.

  I tried to move my head, but found that failed as well, the first prickles of unease I’d been experiencing climbed and advanced towards panic.

  I found myself wondering if maybe I'd suffered a stroke, or fallen and injured my neck or back in some manner, however, I thought fleetingly, if I were hurt, in my current condition it would be impossible to know, for there was no sense of pain or discomfort, just the numbness and dysfunction of my extremities, as though they belonged to another.

  Afraid to move, for fear of worsening the situation in case I really were hurt, I lay there without exerting any effort, confused, drawing in deep breaths as I tried to calm my panic and rapidly beating heart.

  Using the overhang of the trees that softly swayed within the breeze as a focal point, I debated what I should do, I couldn't call out, for I had no voice, which left me with few options. Slowly, ever so slowly my mind began to clear, my memory tossing up jumbled flashes of my day.

  Then in a sudden rush, I recalled everything, from the voice in my studio, to the swirling darkness within the hallway. A darkness that had somehow morphed into the night sky and trees of the swamp that I now gazed at, and panicking I shouted inwardly at my body to move, uttering soundless sobs when nothing happened, for my torso was just incapable of following what I pleaded for it to do, leaving me helpless as a newborn babe!

  I lay there, scared, confused and bewildered. Then the rustle of footsteps penetrated into my awareness, and I felt pinpricks of fear shoot through every nerve within my brain.

  Though my body continued to feel nothing, my mind on the other hand was a different matter, and I became consumed in terror, for I was helpless, a sitting duck for whatever was approaching, and though I tried to summon my shield, it seemed to be frozen by the strange paralysis as well!

  The closer the steps came, the more my fear mounted, until finally it reached such a fever pitch that I began to pray for unconsciousness, knowing that at least then I wouldn't have to look death in the face. However, when the steps slowed and finally came to rest beside me, I gazed at the jean-clad legs, unable to comprehend what I was seeing as my mind abstractedly asked, “since when did Satan where jeans and boots? Where were the hairy legs and cloven hooves?”

  I struggled to move my head, needing to see, to understand, to comprehend that what stood next to me was human, not beast, but as the effort to move failed miserably again, I silently screamed at my body to do something, anything besides lay there!

  My limbs however, seemingly deaf to my pleas, didn't even make the slightest effort to even twitch, remaining completely unresponsive to my demands, and my eyes, the only things that did seem to be working properly, welled with moisture.

  As the jean and boot clad figure hunkered down beside me, I heard a quick inhalation of breath as the clouds above us broke, revealing my features and the tears that trickled freely down my cheeks in the light of the moon.

  I heard a low muttered hiss of, “this has gone on fucking long enough!”

  Then I felt the lightest of touches, something similar to the kiss of butterfly wings against my temple, and suddenly my hearing dimmed as again, darkness enveloped me.

  Chapter 7

  Stretching out an arm, I tugged at the sheet, pulling it a little further onto my shoulder, slow to wake, as I just wasn't quite ready to lose the semi state of awareness that held me cradled within its arms. With a yawn, I snuggled deeper into its comforting warmth, yet wakefulness continued to nudge at the edges of my sleep, until suddenly the slumber that enveloped my brain within its fog cleared in one giant leap, and I sat up with a gasp, my eyes wide and sweeping the room.

  My heart thudded madly against my chest like a caged bird, while fear raced up my back and panic clutched my stomach in a nauseating sphere of uncertainty. The events of the night before slammed their way through, insisting they be heard, but as my brain acknowledge what my eyes were seeing, my fear lessened and slowly, ever so slowly the realization that I must have suffered a nightmare sunk in.

  Nightmares had terrorized me in my adolescence, but as I'd passed from a child into an adult, the nighttime terrors had eased, becoming less frightening in their intensity.

  However, they'd never completely ceased, never quite managed to mitigate into non-existence, and th
is one had very much reminded me of those of my youth, yet it was so unlike them!

  Nonetheless, I was beginning to feel confusion, for a myriad of questions bombarded my brain as I was gazing at the contents within my bedroom, and in that lay my discombobulation, for I didn't even remember coming to my room.

  The last I could recall, I was exiting my studio and standing within the darkness of the hallway just outside it. From there, everything that had occurred next was a blank, an area of non-existence, unclear.

  Unless...I heard my inner voice whisper, wanting to refuse even the possibility that everything that had been involved within my nightmare was reality. That, in fact, I had been outside, that the paralyzation of my body had been real, that any, and all of it, could have been anything other than what I, unbelievably, wanted it to be…a nightmare!

  My stomach quivered with unease, and dropping my head, I drew in deep calming breaths as I softly murmured to myself, “a nightmare, it was just a damn nightmare, that's all.”

  Oh God I hope it was just a nightmare!

  However, even as I thought the words, I knew the truth, and as chill bumps arose on my flesh, chasing one another in procession across my shirking skin, I tossed aside the sheet, pushing to the edge of the bed and rubbing at the bumps, I lowered my legs, touching my feet to the hardwood floor as I found myself chocking back a budding sob, panic flushing throughout my system.

  Unable to be still any longer I stood, feeling my legs give a slight quiver beneath me as I shuffled my way towards the bathroom, trying my best to assure myself with each step I took that none of it had been reality, yet again my gut told me it was.

  However, by the time I stood before the sink my legs felt like limp noodles and I quickly lowered the lid on the toilet, plopping down on its surface before my legs completely gave out and I found myself on the floor, then dropping my head into my hands, I felt my body quiver with anxiety.