The Sacrifice

by Donna Collins

  “I’m not sure what the hell you want me to say?”

  “I just want some answers.”

  “To what? You hit your head and things are a little muddled. It will pass.”

  “You’re saying I’m imagining you telling me to get to the light. Or that you said they would come for me again.”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “I don’t think—”

  Roman gave an exaggerated sigh. “That tea ain’t gonna make itself.”

  Eliza turned back to the kettle and hit the switch. Crap. “I have no electric.”

  “There’s a pub down the road, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” Roman stood. “I’ll drive.”

  He disappeared into the hallway.

  Eliza stayed put.

  A moment later, he reappeared in the kitchen doorway. “Something wrong?”

  “Yeah. I have no idea who you are.”

  “Sure you do. We met last night when I saved your life.”

  “A night that you can’t remember.”

  “No. I remember it all. I said I didn’t know who attacked you.”

  “But you fought with him. You must remember something.”

  Roman sighed. “Look, it was dark. I saw you being attacked and I stepped in to help.”

  “And I am thankful for that.”

  “Good. You can prove it by buying me a pint.” Roman disappeared back into the hallway.

  This time, Eliza followed. She paused in the kitchen doorway. Roman had already opened the front door. Common sense screamed for her not to go with him. To wait until he stepped outside and then slam the door shut behind him. Curiosity, though? Curiosity was a dangerous thing when she wanted to know what the hell had happened the night before.

  She picked up her house key from the small table. Roman remained by the door. For all she knew, he could be the one who attacked her. He wasn’t, though. Deep down, she knew that. He’d arrived later, after someone or something had tried to choke her. Still, she wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t getting in the car with him. Not until he told her the truth at least.

  She grabbed her coat, which lay over a packing box. “I’ll go, but we have to walk there.”

  “Trust issues?” Roman glanced back at the rain pelting from the sky. “Do you at least have an umbrella?”

  Eliza took one from the coat stand. Cream and trimmed with baby pink frills.

  Roman sighed. “I’d rather get wet and catch pneumonia.”

  “Pneumonia it is then.”

  The temperature dropped. Eliza’s breath frosted the icy atmosphere.

  Roman saw it too. His face hardened. “Get to the light.”

  Fear paralysed Eliza. She stared until the whiteness of her breath had faded. That thing was back.

  Frantic, she raced back into the house. She didn’t know, nor did she care, what the hell that thing was. She sensed something charging after her, close at her heels. Locked in the memory of last night, she could make sense of nothing. Something grabbed her arms. She screamed, her warm breath turning ice-white.

  “Stop fighting me,” she heard a voice say. Someone she knew, but through the panic she couldn’t place it. “Get to the fucking light.”

  Eliza gazed at the man before her. Saw it was Roman and gave up struggling. He urged her back to the front door and this time she went willingly. “What the hell is it?”

  They made the doorstep. Rain immediately pelted her face, her clothes. “Tell me. It’s the thing from last night, isn’t it?”

  Something grabbed her shoulders. The pressure dug deep and ripped her free from Roman’s grip. She catapulted backwards into the hallway, landing in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

  Eliza got to her knees, but Roman was nowhere to be seen. Through the open door, she saw him some twenty yards away, lying flat on his back on her lawn. When he moved, she felt relieved.

  “Get out here,” he said, rushing back up the path towards her.

  A gust of wind tore through the hallway. The front door slammed, and Roman was gone from view.

  Around her, book covers flew open, their pages ferociously ripped from the spines. Together with loose photographs and other papers, they rose into the air and whirled in circles above her head.

  Eliza heard Roman on the other side of the door, shouting her name and hammering to get in. She clambered across the hallway, scrambling to her feet as she went. The wind attacked and tried to push her back, but she reached for the door and grabbed the latch. Roman’s hammering intensified and Eliza screamed back when the door refused to open.

  Behind her, a stack of boxes tumbled like a building in an earthquake. Eliza raised her arms, protecting her face from spiralling debris. Above, Shadows crawled down the walls. The coat stand toppled and crashed, its wooden hooks splintering free. The wind howled louder and louder. She heard Roman pound against the door and again she screamed for help, but her cry was no more than a muffle buried beneath a windstorm of noise. All around her, Shadows descended along the walls. But unlike any other shadows she’d ever seen, these rolled across the floor like an ocean mist, where they merged in the centre of the room and embraced each other, entwining as lovers would, growing until just one shape floated before her; the same shadowy figure that had attacked her at the station.

  Eliza raced across the hall. The Shadow swept closer, its claw-like fingers stretched out and reaching for her. It curled her legs and swiped them out from under her. Eliza fell on to her back and the Shadow was upon her, gripping her arms and legs, holding her down so she couldn’t move. She tried to scream, but her efforts were thwarted. The Shadow seeped into her mouth and down her throat, the ice-cold air drying everything it touched. Eliza gagged, wanting to cough, needing to breathe. She thrashed from side to side, convulsing at the lack of air in her lungs, but she couldn’t escape the force that held her captive. The dense outline of the ceiling lightshade swung in the gale above her, and the sensation she’d felt the night before whirled inside her head. She stared at the shade, her eyes straining so hard she thought they would pop from their sockets. Faster and faster the shade swung, until Eliza’s eyelids grew so heavy it became too much of an effort to keep them open. Then, the light bulb exploded. Glass particles fell like snow, and the Shadow retreated from her mouth as suddenly as it had arrived. Renewed air rushed into Eliza’s lungs and burned her throat, and through blurred vision she watched the Shadow retreat to the corner of the room and fade into the darkness.

  Glass shattered somewhere in the living room. The wind in the hallway died and the temperature warmed, and no more did her breath frost the air. She lay on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest like a child too terrified to move, and just concentrated on drawing air back into her lungs. Had she just done it again? Had that glass smashed because she’d wanted it too?

  Something rushed through from the living room and dashed to her side. Hands gripped her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

  She turned to face the voice beside her, and saw Roman. He didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he frantically checked and rechecked the room, his gaze darting into every nook and cranny. When Eliza tried to speak, to warn him, the words scratched across her throat like sandpaper. She swallowed, which hurt even more, and had no choice but to remain quiet and hope this man was here to get her the hell out of the house.

  Roman took her in his arms and lifted her from the floor, and she let him. She couldn’t have been more than a foot or two from the ground when her breath frosted white again. She looked up at Roman to warn him, but the look in his eyes told her he already knew.

  The Shadow swelled behind him. His eyes widened and, still holding Eliza, he got to one knee. The Shadow swooped upon them, knocking Eliza from Roman’s arms. Roman reached for her a second time, but the Shadow yanked him backwards and thrust him into the corner of the room. Eliza crawled to her knees. The front door was only metres from her. If she could just get outside…
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  CHAPTER NINE

  The Shadow hauled Eliza’s arms behind her and dragged her across the floor into the living room.

  The door began to close, and through the gap Eliza saw Roman launch a flying kick towards it. The sole of his boot connected and wood splintered in every direction, smashing the door open with such force that it whacked the glass cabinet and toppled what she hadn’t packed of her grandmother’s decorative plates and ornaments. The Shadow released Eliza’s hands and floated towards the ceiling, where it circled her like a predator would its prey. Everyone remained still, watching, waiting to see who would make the first move.

  “You must be bleeding? That’s the only way it could have found you.” Roman was back at her side, his fingers feeling across her scalp. He touched her stitches. “There’s no blood.”

  Now he frantically checked her everywhere. His hands clasped hers, as if remembering. “That fucking cup of tea.”

  The Shadow descended across her grandmother’s furniture, overturning every item it touched. Pictures fell from the walls and shattered across the wooden floorboards. Two candlesticks flew from the mantle, followed by an array of photo frames and old china knickknacks that hadn’t been moved in years. The mahogany antique clock, a gift to her gran from her grandfather, tumbled forward.

  Roman pulled Eliza to her feet. The streetlight glowered across his jawline. When he spoke, his cheeks hollowed and his nose crinkled slightly. “Get outside to the light, and wait for me there.”

  The Shadow continued its descent across the fireplace. The safety guard toppled, as did the brass pokers. They clashed together and hit the stone surround. A side table overturned, and her gran’s favourite vase smashed across the floor, spilling tap water and freshly cut marigolds everywhere.

  “Go.” Roman urged her towards the door.

  The Shadow moved towards them, now swollen to twice its original size, and Eliza ran. A high-pitched scream vibrated across the room, and Eliza covered her ears. Only when she reached the door did she allow herself a stolen glance over her shoulder.

  “Hurry, I can’t hold it for long,” Roman said, clinging to the black mist.

  Eliza raced into the hallway, her only mission to get to the front door and run like she’d never run before. In the living room, she heard what was left of the furniture topple and smash. Could she really leave this man to die? She reached the doorstep and was halfway down the garden path when she stopped. A familiar feeling tingled inside her. The last fourteen hours had raised so many questions, especially what she herself had done, and this man seemed to either be part of it, or somehow know the answers. Could she really run from him and risk never finding out? Yes. She wanted to run. And run as fast as she could. She wanted to charge on through the gate and flee down the road, but the lure to go back inside grew more urgent. Why she had to help this man, she didn’t know and couldn’t understand. She just knew that if she wanted to find out what was happening to her, she needed him alive.

  By the time Eliza got back to the living room, the Shadow no longer fought for freedom. Instead, it had turned on Roman and coiled his legs like a boa constrictor. In retaliation, Roman thrashed from side to side, his arms punching through the dark mist, his legs trying to kick free. He needed Eliza’s help, yet she didn’t know what to do. Pain itched the tips of her fingers. The Shadow crawled up Roman’s legs and curled his waist, trapping his arms against his sides.

  Roman’s eyes met with hers, and anger replaced his first look of disbelief at seeing her again. “Get to the light.”

  The Shadow wrapped Eliza’s ankle and worked its way up her calf. Within seconds it had encased the lower half of her body, and both she and the man who’d tried to save her were trapped.

  Glass from the window lay crushed around Eliza’s feet. Red-hot pulses cramped her hand and she flexed her fingers. Tremors began to rumble across the broken shards, and one of the larger pieces flew up from the floor and into her palm. Eliza stared down at it. An instant earlier she’d wanted it, and now here she stood, holding it.

  The Shadow rolled up around her waist, and with the glass gripped in her hand, she stabbed down towards her stomach, slicing through the dark mist and cutting her own skin. The Shadow released her, its shriek perforating the air and eclipsing her own anguished cries of pain. Eliza covered her ears, now free to run again. However, the Shadow hadn’t let go of Roman, and now held tighter than ever.

  Jagged glass jutted out around the window frame, and the familiar sensation Eliza felt in her hand burned inside her head. Images whirled like a movie reel playing over and over, shooting glass across the room towards the Shadow, one direct hit after another. And then it started to happen for real. Small fragments at first, each one snapping free from the wood and hurling across the room. Piece by piece, they cut through the Shadow like a samurai sword through silk. Eliza heard the man grunt as they stabbed him, but she couldn’t stop further glass from flying through the air towards him. Larger shards broke loose and followed, and an ear-splitting scream finally drowned out Roman’s agonising groans. Then, as had happened with Eliza, the Shadow released him.

  Roman seized his chance and grabbed the Shadow in a bear-like hug. Unlike the pieces of glass, which had cut right through the dark mist, Roman trapped it, whipping it one way then the other, as though the two were dancing a frenzied waltz. The Shadow bulged and thrashed, morphing from one shape to another. A deafening screech, one more of anger than despair, cut through the gloom. Roman locked his fingers and held tight, and with one last ear-piercing shrill, the Shadow weakened and vanished from sight.

  Roman stood panting, then glanced down at his slashed shirt and pulled a shard of glass from his shoulder. Another piece from his stomach.

  “Shit.” He threw the pieces to the floor and surveyed the room. The crescent-shaped scar circled the corner of his mouth, his stubble unable to disguise it. “Hell if I’m cleaning up this mess.”

  He brushed down his coat. “Why didn’t you run when I told you to?”

  “Because you needed help.”

  Roman rubbed the back of his tattooed hand across his chin, and when he tipped his hat, vigilant blue eyes stared at her. He hatched a nonchalant smile. “Well, one thing’s for sure, I was totally wrong about you.”

  “You know why I can do the things I do?”

  He smiled again. “I do.”

  Eliza waited for him to elaborate.

  Instead, he took her hand and turned for the hallway. “Come on, we need to get out of here before it comes back.”

  “Before what comes back? What is that thing?”

  But the Shadow had returned, floating up from the floor behind him.

  The cocky expression fell from Roman’s face and he sighed, looking more put out than worried. He turned to face his threat. The Shadow moved quicker. It tossed him across the room, and what was left of the display cabinet smashed under his impact. Roman fell to the floor, unrecognisable pieces of smashed Dresden and Wedgwood showering him, and the Shadow engulfed him again, dragging him from the living room and out into the hallway.

  Eliza raced after them, stopping in the doorway and staring at the glass, willing it to fly across the room to save him again. The Shadow hovered mid-air for what seemed like minutes. Then, as if certain Eliza was no threat, it swooped down and mercilessly coiled Roman’s neck.

  In the blink of an eye, Eliza heard a sickening crack.

  The Shadow held Roman, but he no longer kicked or fought the attack. Instead, his head lolled to one side and his blue eyes drained of life. The Shadow dropped him and Roman hit the floor, landing face down, one leg sprawled to the side, the other bent at the knee. Eliza scrambled to his broken body. She shook him and rolled him onto his back, but his eyes were closed and his lifeless body showed no signs of waking. She buried her head against his jacket and listened for a heartbeat; felt his wrist for a pulse, then his neck.

  She found none.

  Anger bubbled
in the pit of her stomach, and the sensation inside her head returned, causing hot jolts to spike through her whole body. In the kitchen, cutlery and appliances started to clang together. In the living room, the already-broken furniture shook and rumbled. Eliza sensed the Shadow circling above her, and the vengeful feeling inside her intensified.

  She should run, she knew that. But anger stopped her.

  Pain burned behind her eyes, and electrifying spasms cramped her arms. In the living room, furniture crashed together. In the kitchen, drawers opened and fell to the floor. Spontaneously, items flew into the air and darted from both rooms. Knives slashed through the dark mist above her and embedded in the walls. Pots and pans and splintered chair legs also charged to the centre of the hall, every item piercing the Shadow before crashing into the far walls to create a noise louder than thunder itself. The room whirled around Eliza, and another high-pitched scream wailed from the Shadow, the sound of its pain cut short only when finally it exploded into a ball of dust.

  The light in the kitchen brightened. Eliza collapsed to the floor, drained of energy and unable to focus. Ash rained down upon her like snow at Christmas, and although she knew Roman lay only feet away, she could barely see him through the haze of powder that had once been the Shadow. She reached out and felt his jacket.

  Then, slowly, her eyes closed and she passed out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Eliza felt as if she were soaring high into the sky.

  A breeze swept across her face, and she partially opened her eyes. The kitchen ceiling moved by in a blur, and somewhere in the distance the front door bashed open and Billy’s voice called out her name. Then the floating sensation abruptly ended, and she rapidly descended to the cold, hard surface of the kitchen floor. She heard the back door open, followed by the sound of footsteps rushing through from the hallway.

  An urgent hand gripped her shoulders and shook her. “Eliza?”

  Eliza fully opened her eyes. Billy stared down at her, his two-day-old stubble still unshaven, his brow creased with confusion and worry. He pulled her close, and as much as she wanted to stay comforted in his arms when he embraced her, she pushed him away. “Where am I?”