by Levi Fuller
She had been the friend that had stuck with Jane through a traumatic event when she was five and Jane had returned the favor three years later when Violet's parents split up.
She took in the light sheen on Jane's face and tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.”
Violet narrowed her eyes at the tone of voice. “What's going on?”
David chuckled and Jane's full lips pulled into a huge smile.
Understanding dawned and Violet felt her mouth drop open. “No way! You're pregnant?”
Violet squealed as Jane nodded and David laughed harder.
“You should see your face!”
Violet barely heard him, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. Her heart, so shadowed by the day, by the devastation on the faces of Ellis Cadeen's family, lightened a little. It wasn't the justice she hoped to achieve, but this news of new life was some small kind of balance.
3
I had first seen her at the cafe in Montgomery, where Kareena and I stopped for lunch last weekend, laughing on the phone. The sound had drawn my attention. So free, happy and full of life. Her nightmares had called to me, then, her fears so strong. Deep-rooted fears are always the best, the ones that come from real events and are then twisted and made worse by the mind's eye.
It was not how I operated. It was dangerous and stupid. It was more than I could resist.
So now I was here, in a wedding dress boutique in Montgomery, my prey still oblivious to what my presence meant. To be fair to her, this was only the second time I'd trailed her. Far less than any of my other prey. The snarl of unease in my stomach lay forgotten as she stepped out of the dressing room.
Her red hair was sleek and seemed lit by its own light as it trailed down her slender back, stopping at her narrow waist. Her chosen dress was a floaty affair of chiffon and silk, with no straps and an open back. It had only a few embellishments, simple and elegant. Her eyes were the greenish-blue of a forest pond, brimming with happiness in her freckled face. And her fears. They were so loud, impossible for me to ignore. The light of her happiness as she twirled for her two friends in the second wedding dress of the day were thrown into sharp relief by the shadows that waited, always ready to haunt her dreams.
I absently pulled another dress from the rack and made a show of inspecting it. I hated weddings. The level of hope in the air made my head hurt. Everyone in them wearing their dreams in their faces, highlighting their fears so brightly. But wedding dress shops were an easy place to watch my chosen prey.
She caught me watching and gave a tentative smile, an automatic reaction, but one that still whet my hunger.
It had been more than three months since Ellis Cadeen had awoken to find himself being covered in clay dust and gravel. It was time for a new hunt, before my sense drove me to do something even more foolish.
I smiled back, tucking a strand of my auburn hair behind my ear, then returned back to the dress in my hands. I had been following her for only three days, much shorter than my usual, careful method, but I could feel the inexorable pressure building in my head. Waiting wasn't an option. Given the shadows I had seen, this artwork would be exquisite.
****
“Ready to eat as much cake as you can?”
Violet met Jane's aquamarine eyes and grinned back. “I don't know. Unlike you, I don't have an excuse if my figure goes south.”
Jane laughed, tossing her brilliant red ponytail behind her, then linked hands with Violet and led her into the private room for her cake tasting. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.” Violet smiled at her old friend. She squeezed her hand, remembering how they had always walked like this, hand in hand, at school, at the park, everywhere until Jane's parents had moved away three months before the start of high school, taking Jane with them. When they'd gotten lost on a camping trip when they were still first graders, Violet had sworn they'd be okay as long as they never let each other's hands other go.
“Welcome ladies. I'm Lisa and I'll be your cake maid today,” said a woman with fake blonde hair and a genuine smile. She smoothed her flowery apron as they greeted her. “My congratulations, Ms Luton.”
“Thanks,” said Jane, blushing easily.
Violet let the woman's voice fade out as she asked Jane all the usual questions. When is the big day? Where is it being held? Who is the lucky fiancée? How did you meet?
Violet took in the laced curtains framing the windows, giant display cakes twirling on a stand by the door, vying for the opportunity to attract a customer.
She sighed internally. If she ever found someone that made her think marriage was a good idea, this would absolutely not be the way things would happen.
Maybe we could elope? Be totally predictable and go to Vegas?
Violet pulled herself out of her thoughts as she realized that Jane and Lisa were both waiting for her response to something she hadn't heard.
“Maybe she doesn't like the dress I picked out for her,” Jane suggested in a stage whisper to Lisa.
The pieces clicked together and Violet chuckled. “Yep, it's horrible.”
Jane chuckled, too, and Lisa's shock faded a little.
“I love the dress, Jane, but you know I'd wear anything if it still meant being your maid of honor.”
“That's lovely,” said Lisa, regaining control of the conversation. “I will fetch you your first two samples, if you are ready?”
Jane and Violet nodded and Lisa left in a swish of pink ruffles and perfume.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out for a bit.” Violet met Jane's eyes and smiled. “I promise I'll stay in the moment and risk my sleek physique in our quest to find you the best wedding cake ever.”
Jane winked. “I knew I could count on you, especially with free cake on offer.”
Violet jabbed Jane playfully in the ribs as Lisa brought out the first two samples.
“Vanilla sponge, with dark chocolate mouse and white chocolate drizzle,” Lisa said, placing a plate labelled '1' on the table. “And chocolate sponge with raspberry and white chocolate filling. These are for you to make notes on each sample. When you are done, just hold up the little flag and I will come and clear, then bring the next samples.”
They thanked her and each picked up one of the small forks.
“Thish ish deishioush!” Violet said, around a mouthful of the first sample.
“It is, but don't get ahead of yourself. I'm not picking the very first cake without trying anything else.”
Violet swallowed. “Not a problem. You were right. I'll eat whatever cake crosses this table.”
Jane chuckled and made a few notes. “You're still coming to the restaurant on Thursday, right?”
“Is it likely that I'd miss your bachelorette's?”
“But you won't come out afterwards?”
“Clubbing?”
“I know it's not your scene, but I'd love it if you came.”
Violet looked and Jane and put a piece of sample 2 into her mouth. “I will think about it, okay?” she said once she'd swallowed. “Depends on what's happening at work.”
Jane nodded, her smile a little deflated, then she pulled it back up. “Is that one any good?”
Violet pushed the plate towards her friend. “It's amazing. I have no idea how you're going to choose.”
Jane looked at the cake on her fork. “That's why you're here. To help me.”
****
Jane didn't know what was happening. Her head throbbed and her vision was blurred, even as she tried to blink the haze away. She was sitting on something damp, her feet were freezing, and her back rested against a cylindrical shape.
Where the hell are my shoes? Did I pass out on the side walk? No, that didn't make sense. She hadn't had anything to drink.
She tried to recall the last moments she could remember clearly, hoping that one might make sense of why her body felt weak, her mi
nd sluggish moving in response to her commands.
She could remember the bar in Charleston, her friends all hammered, toasting her approaching wedding as they swayed on the dance floor without her. She shifted her body, aware that she should have been able to feel the bite of the metal fairy wings they'd made her to wear for her bachelorette's. Nothing. She slid a hand towards her hip, aiming for the pocket in her jeans where she always kept her phone, and felt her heart spike in panic as her fingers trailed across twigs, leaves and soil. She blinked her eyes more furiously, willing the images to come into focus as her heart beat erratically in her chest, her hand frozen against her hip. Her panicked fingers had not encountered the rough denim of her jeans, but rather the liquid slide of silk and the weightless whisper of chiffon.
What is happening? Why am I in my wedding dress? No. It wasn't her wedding dress, but it was a very close replica. It was only missing the sweetheart neckline and soft blossoms catching the skirt.
She took a deep breath, hoping to steady her nerves, but her heart burst into a terrified sprint as she breathed in the scents of earth and wood.
Jane directed her eyes towards her lap, too afraid to move until her vision had cleared. Instead, she tried to remember more, even as her ears ached with the strain as they tried to catch any noise that could be a threat.
Back in the bar, she'd seen someone crying over their drink. It was a woman she thought she might have seen earlier that week, in the bridal boutique. She’d gone to talk to her, feeling buoyed by happiness, eager to help the stranger, a fellow bride, out.
The woman had given her a watery smile and tucked a strand of her lustrous auburn hair behind her ear. She'd been dumped just a week before her wedding. Jane had sympathized and offered to help her tidy herself up in the bathroom. The woman agreed and they'd gone to the restroom. That was it. She could remember nothing else of her night.
Jane felt tears spring to her own eyes as the panic building in her rose with every rustle of leaves and twigs, with the sight of the moonlit trees that hunkered close together as her vision cleared.
She tried to bring up the image of David, her fiancé, the man who would be waiting for her to come home, to their little flat in Montgomery. But the image shattered, unable to survive the confusion and fear in her mind.
She'd gotten lost in the woods once, when she was five. It had taken them two days to find her. Two days of utter terror. The only thing that had kept her from going over the edge had been her friend, who never let her hand go. Ever since then, she'd had this nightmare, this fear of dying lost in the woods, with her friend always vanishing to be replaced by some animal, a wolf or bear, with sharp teeth.
Maybe I am dreaming, a nightmare brought on by wedding jitters.
A twig snapped nearby and Jane jumped, the rough bark of the tree she lay against scratching her exposed back.
She strained her eyes into the darkness and choked on a scream as a shadow moved slowly towards her.
She pushed herself to her feet, a scream building in her chest. She cried out as she was yanked back down by a thin cord around her left wrist.
The shadow came closer and Jane's blood ran cold. This wasn't in her recurring nightmare. There were only ever the endless trees, the howling wind and hungry predators. This shadow was humanoid, dressed in black, head to toe, except for the face. The face was a mask of pure white, twisted and painted into a snarling demon.
Jane tried to form a coherent sentence. All the questions that presented themselves to her mind were pointless. Who the person was or what they wanted was plain by the fact that she was here, in a forest, dressed in a wedding dress and tied to a tree.
The shadow cocked its head to the side and flicked out a gloved hand as if offering the object up for inspection. The moonlight glinted on a sharp dagger, the lightly curved blade looking like an over large silver fang.
Jane screamed, fighting with the cord, ignoring the pain in her hand as the shadow stepped closer, a single, measured, predatory step.
Jane thought of David, waiting for her, of the news they'd learned just last week, and pulled her wrist harder, ignoring the bite of the cord as it severed her skin.
Pain lashed against her mind but she shoved it away, concentrating only on the feeling of the cord itself as it snapped, on the fact that she was free from it, and pushed herself to her numb feet. Jane burst away from her hunter, running wildly, her dress snagging on branches and threatening to trip her up. Tears escaped her eyes as footsteps followed, quick and lithe.
A sound, half sob, half scream escaped her as she fell, only to see her hunter plunge the dagger into her calf. The demon danced back and tilted the knife in the dappled moonlight, examining the blood wetting the blade. Jane bit back another scream of terror and pain and, launching herself to her feet again, she ran, ignoring her limp, with speed born of fear and a will to survive.
In her mind only one thought looped over and over.
Get out of the woods, out of the darkness.
In her panicked heart, she wished more than anything that she could have her friend's hand to hold again, just like before.
****
I count to five, giving my prey the illusion of hope, of an escape. Behind the decorative mask, I am grinning. The hunt is always exhilarating. I enjoy fears like this, where I can be an active participant, to be there at the end, so much more than ones like Ellis Cadeen.
I'd watched my prey's skin ripple with goosebumps, first brought on by the chill night air and then fear as she'd awoken from the dose I'd given her.
Readying my blade, I launch myself after the white dress, so easily visible, even in the dark woods. She is heading the wrong way, getting too close to commonly-used trails. I need her to remain undiscovered, for her remains to be scattered far and wide by the predators that would be drawn in after I’m done. I dart around to her left, and strike another shallow wound. I'd spent time honing this blade and it slides into her arm effortlessly. Her scream is so full of fear, the ecstasy in my mind redoubles. Again I give her a head start, relishing in the sobs rasping out of her throat.
I give chase. My blood roars in my head, flooding through my body with electricity. Twice more I dart in to corral her towards a more unused part of this forest and once more just for the thrill of it. Essentially she had run in a small circle, exactly as planned. Ahead I see the space I'd cleared earlier, the space she'd woken up in. It is time. This hunt is over. Giving a burst of speed to my legs, I fling myself at her back, using my martial arts training to my advantage as I spin her and push away. The back of her head hits the tree she had been tied to with a crack loud enough to make me worry that I've been too rough. I step over her body, breathing a sigh as she moans, dazed, but still alive. Good. I remove my mask. There is no one else to see and it is important that she knows. The little lantern I lit throws her wounds into sharp relief. The scratches all over her bare shoulders and arms are ugly. I take my dagger and lay it against a scratch on her right forearm. I decide on vines. Gentle, curling vines.
****
Jane felt her terror rise as she took another cut, this time to her left arm. She felt like her mind was going to break from the fear. All the trees looked the same, the forest endless and uncaring as it held her trapped, lost and alone.
God! Violet, I wish you were here! You'd know what to do.
The lack of following steps didn't give her a burst of hope like it had the first time, or even the second. The evil that followed her was playing a game. She felt her tears run hot against her cheeks as the footsteps came again and knew, with terrible certainty, that she was never going to make it out of this cursed forest.
She ran into a moonlit clearing and felt something collide with her back, spinning her and throwing her into a tree.
Pain burst across her skull and she felt her body fall to the ground, her mind losing control over her limbs.
A hand seized her shoulder and shook her. Jane moaned in pain. Light f
lared near her head, and Jane squinted up at the face that crouched over her. The dark-blue eyes were familiar. She was the woman from the bar. The one from the dress shop. More pain beat against her failing mind as something sharp bit into her right forearm.
She shut her eyes. In her mind, a small, clear image burst through the haze of pain and fear. It was of her blue-tiled bathroom, David was holding her in his arms as they looked at the little plastic stick together, watching as the little plus sign formed.
The pain flared again. The darkness came rushing in, taking the happy memory away, but taking the fear with it, too.
****
The completion of my art is always tinged with disappointment. My breath comes in ragged bursts, filling my nose and mouth with the scents of the Kanawha Forest and the chase that it had hidden within its trees. Damp earth, crushed leaves and snapped branches. I imagine I can also smell blood, just a subtle tang of iron on the air.
Jane Luton, the red-head I'd hunted, had been too easy to catch. Part of me rejoices, because it means no waiting and the pressure that has been continually assaulting my skull, steadily growing with each passing day, has subsided. For now.
I look down to assess the layout of my art. It is doubtful anyone will find her like this, before scavengers got to her, but I still need to be sure she is beautiful as I can make her.
Her pale skin is covered in scratches, softened into winding curls by my dagger. Her bare feet are deep red, the gossamer wedding dress in tatters, floating around her on the chill night winds. She lies half on her side, hands reaching out towards trees to her left as if waiting as an offering to the forest spirits.
Yes. Like this she is far more beautiful than she had ever been grinning at her reflecting in the shop. Like this she is one with her fear, with the dark shadows.
