by Tom Howard
As she looked around for a way out, the room which once had appeared larger was quickly shrinking around her. She found only two options – out of the window, or into the closet. One would likely break her legs, and the other would certainly be her tomb. Michelle could feel her legs growing weaker, barely able to hold her up, not out of fear, but from an unnatural force which seemed to fill the room and give power to the dead. She had made it to the foot of the bed, ready to pry open the window and risk the broken limbs, when all of the sudden a hand grabbed her ankle from under the bed. What would have been a blood curdling shriek was barely even a squeak. When she looked down, seeing a cut up, sore covered arm, as the body crawled out, she became even more fearful as her widened eyes glared at the woman from Wyatt’s bed. She looked up at Michelle with her burned, bloody face, and with pure evil lingering in her eyes, smiled a jagged grin. Michelle could hear the woman’s broken legs hitting the floor as she made her way out.
Michelle looked around and realized there was nothing she could do and nowhere to run. All three creatures were closing in on her, and as the man reached her, he threw her onto the bed as the girl held her down. The more Michelle struggled to get away, the stronger the dead became. She thrashed and tried to scream, but it was in vain…help was not coming.
The night was eerily quiet, almost as though the entire world was standing still. No sounds could be heard, not animals, insects, or even the wind. It would appear the hands of the clock had come to a dead stop.
Wyatt suddenly awoke from a deep sleep to the feel of his arm burning. Shooting up in the bed, he looked down to find the fading red handprint on his arm turning a deep shade of red and giving off such an intense heat, if not for seeing it with his own eyes, he’d have sworn it was stuck in the middle of a bonfire. Grabbing his arm with his other hand, Wyatt walked into the bathroom, turned on ice cold water, and held the burn underneath. And though the freezing water felt great, after a minute or two, he realized his arm still wasn’t cooling…in fact, the burning felt as if it were intensifying. Drying off his arm, Wyatt remembered the aloe in the cupboard under the sink, and after slathering a handful on, felt the sensation begin to die down…but only slightly.
As he stood there, waiting a few minutes to apply another generous helping to his arm, Wyatt’s ears perked up as they caught a noise coming from down the hall. It almost sounded like muffled talking with a hint of rapid squeaking from the box springs. Putting the burning out of his mind as best he could, given his arm was still attached, Wyatt made his way down the hall, following the sound, which became increasingly louder the closer he walked toward Michelle’s room. His brow furrowed as he stopped just outside of her door and listened. The only explanation he could come up with was she was jumping on the bed. He figured if someone was in there, having their way with her, she’d be screaming…right? It was at that point he knocked, but the sounds didn’t subside. “Michelle?!” He spoke through the door. But again, no stopping. Grabbing the knob, Wyatt quickly let go as it nearly burned his hand. “What the?” Screw it, he figured, it’s only wood. With a great sense of urgency, he kicked in the door, and what he saw shocked him. The evil spirits Michelle had seen were gone, but Michelle herself was pinned to the bed having what looked like a seizure. She was spread eagle, and her entire body was completely writhing.
Bolting over to her side, what Wyatt saw didn’t make any sense what-so-ever. Not only was Michelle twisting and squirming, her arms were covered in bloody scratches, which looked self-inflicted. Not only that, but her clothes were torn, and her face was scarred, her teeth were jagged, yellow, and black, and there was foam running out of both sides of her mouth. In a low voice, barely above a whisper, she was chanting something in a deep voice, in a weird language, one he wasn’t even sure was from this earth.
Not thinking, only acting, Wyatt grabbed her by the shoulders. “Michelle! Snap out of it! Michelle!” He shook her. “Come on!” his heart was racing, he had no idea what to do.
Suddenly, her eyes shot open, and Wyatt could see nothing but evil where he once saw entrancing beauty. She tried to force her way up toward him, but it was as though invisible cuffs held her to the bed. “She’s ours now!” The deep voice growled through Michelle’s once sweet lips.
“Who are you? What have you done?” Wyatt was ready for a fight, but there was no way he was going to hurt Michelle.
“She’s ours now…and you will never get her back!” The spirit grew angry and was thrown back onto the bed, writhing as it screamed. However, the screams were becoming more feminine, but the violent shaking was getting worse. “Wyatt! Help me!” Wyatt would know that voice anywhere, somehow Michelle had broken away from whatever was holding her…but only for an instant. “No! Don’t let them take me, not again!” Her screams became more intense and suddenly shifted back to the deep voice. “No! You belong to us!” It growled.
“Michelle! Michelle!” Wyatt was nearly on top of her as he tried to get her back. “How do I help you?!” Urgency rang in his voice.
“You can’t! she belongs to the fallen!”
“I don’t give up that easy!” Wyatt leaned in closer, and as he did, his cross necklace caught the moonlight and reflected it onto Michelle’s face, causing her to scream in pain. There was no mistaking a cry like that. Wyatt glanced out of the window to see the full moon being uncovered by the clouds, then, with a look back to the woman under him, Wyatt let the image of the cross remain on her head until the cries died and her body became still. The presence of evil Wyatt had felt upon entering the room was lifted the moment Michelle was calm. “Michelle?” Wyatt asked, however, there was no response, only that of her sleeping. Her face and body had returned to normal, leaving behind no sign anything had taken place. Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief and noticed his arm was no longer hurting, but the handprint remained.
There was no way he was leaving her alone the rest of the night, so he picked her up and carried her back over to his room, placing her in the bed next to him. Finally settling down, Wyatt had no idea what to make of what just transpired. A possession, really? That’s a new one. And who in the heck are the fallen? Demons? What would demons want with Michelle? Wyatt laid there with the lamp next to his bed shining brightly as he calmed himself, thinking of anything he could do to prevent another attack. But how do you fight a spirit? Another person, sure, no problem, but a spirit? How can you fight something not visible by human eyes? Wyatt rubbed his head, and though still rattled, closed his eyes, cuddled up next to Michelle and did his best to get some sleep. But for the rest of the night, even the slightest noise woke him.
Michelle awoke to find herself standing in the far corner of Wyatt’s bedroom. Her head felt a bit hazy as she looked through slightly blurry eyes. She could clearly make out Wyatt sleeping in the bed. However, the sheets where she had been lying remained untouched. The lamp was off, and the room was only being lit by the moon. However, the closer she walked toward the bed, the more she could see a dark figure standing over Wyatt, panting as it glared down at him. “Hey! Get away from him!” She yelled. But it was no use, her voice sounded as though emanating from a tunnel, and the figure wasn’t responding. “Hey! Didn’t you hear me?! I said leave him alone!” She still wasn’t able to make out any features, however watched as its arm raised with some kind of knife, ready to be plunged into Wyatt’s chest. Michelle knew she had to do something, and tried running, but the faster she moved, the slower she went. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have sworn she was stuck in sludge.
The figure began to lower the knife as if wanting to savor every moment of the kill. “No!” Michelle cried out. And just as the knife was nearly on his chest, a being of light appeared next to the figure, stopping it from killing her friend. “Thank you.” Michelle said as she was now free to move over to the bed. As she reached it, she placed her hand on Wyatt’s shoulder to wake him and get him out of the room. But as he rolled over, Michelle nearly jumped out of her skin. His face was that of the dead gi
rl, dark sockets for eyes, cut up face, and mouth sewn shut. Its arm made its way up and out of the covers to reveal a claw like, deformed hand, which then shushed Michelle. Suddenly it lunged for her.
Michelle awoke to find herself wrapped in Wyatt’s arms. Her heart raged as though about to leap from her chest. Looking around the room, she saw they were alone, the light was on, and he was asleep. Calming her breathing, Michelle couldn’t help but wonder why that dream felt so real.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and Michelle awoke to find herself alone in bed. Lying on her side, facing Wyatt’s pillow, she gently opened her eyes, and for a moment, became worried, feeling as if any second she would succumb to evil once more. She shot up in bed and looked around to find Wyatt sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, with a closed book in hand. She smiled at him, but he only smirked back. Clearly, he was worried about something, it was written all over his face. Michelle’s brow furrowed, “Been watching over me all night?” she asked.
“Just the past couple hours.” Wyatt wasn’t himself.
“What’s wrong?” Michelle wondered.
Wyatt leaned forward in his chair, “What do you remember about last night?”
Michelle shook her head slightly as it drooped a little. Letting out a sigh, she had hoped it was all a dream, but being able to remember everything clearly, she could feel the chill in her soul which told her it was in fact as nightmarish reality. “I tried to get away from them…the three demons in my room…but they wouldn’t let me go. I tried to scream, wanting to call for you, but the more I tried, the less of a voice I had. I was ready to go out of the window, but the guy threw me to the bed and pinned me down. That was when everything went black. The next thing I know, I’m waking up just now.”
“Nothing else?”
“No…why? What happened?”
In a way Wyatt felt a bit of relief. “It’s probably best you don’t remember.” He said, looking Michelle dead in the eye. “But I will say this, you scared the hell out of me. Never before last night had I ever seen anything like what happened…for a minute I thought I lost you…and that…would be something I couldn’t live with.”
Michelle grinned. “And why’s that? I thought you weren’t wanting to rush anything.”
“I don’t,” Wyatt replied as he stood up and walked toward her. “but lately being around you has reminded me about the better parts of life, the parts without all of the death I’m usually surrounded by. Looking at you, I remember what innocence feels like. And there’s something about you that gives me a sense of peace…with what I do and the kinds of things I’ve done, you don’t know how rare that is or how much it means to me. And when you find something like that, you have to hold onto it for as long as possible.”
Michelle took Wyatt by the hand as he sat next to her. “I’m always going to be here for you.” She spoke softly, gazing into his eyes. “I may not know what world we’re being drug into, but I know over the past couple days I’ve come to care for you a great deal, and not just because you keep saving me, but because of how good of a man you are. Now I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but no matter what it is, if for some reason I’m not around, you can always find me right here.” She placed her hand over Wyatt’s heart.
“Just do me a favor and don’t go too far, alright?” Wyatt wasn’t sure what changed his feelings toward Michelle, all he knew was every fiber in his being wanted to run with them. However, he knew there was a chance her old life would beckon her away like a ship in the night.
Michelle glanced around then walked over to the window, admiring the morning view. “Believe me,” she began as she watched three deer grazing on some nearby grass. “if I had my way, I’d live here forever. It’s all so beautiful.”
Wyatt watched as Michelle was lit by the glow of the sun. It seemed to make her shimmer with luminescent beauty. He was instantly reminded of a time when Aimee would do the same thing, standing by the window, surrounded by shining light, wearing only a button-down T-shirt he had given her. Wyatt could see so much of Aimee in Michelle, but there was something about Michelle from which Wyatt was unable to escape. “I know what you mean, the view from here isn’t that bad either.” He added with a grin.
Michelle glanced back with a smile. In Wyatt’s eyes she couldn’t have been more perfect. A gorgeous body with an awesome personality, and a kiss that’ll hit you like a heart attack. What a combination! “Why Mr. Cage, I do believe it sounds like you’re falling for me.”
Wyatt blushed. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”
Michelle met Wyatt in the kitchen after getting dressed and found he already had chocolate chip pancakes hot and ready on the table along with bacon, eggs, sausage, and milk. She was surprised at how fast he was, either that or she took longer than she thought dolling herself up. “Nice spread.” She said grabbing a sausage link as she sat down. “I can’t wait to see what’s for lunch.”
Wyatt brought over some rolls, taking off his oven mitts, as he joined Michelle at the table. “I’ve been doing some thinking…we can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“We’ve been here two days and only one of them was peaceful.” He began with seriousness written all over his face. “Clearly these things can find you anywhere. Now I know the key is in your memory, we just have to find a way to jog it.”
“What if we can’t? Are we just supposed to keep running for the rest of our lives?”
“We have to do something. I have to keep you safe.”
Michelle leaned back, folding her arms. “It would appear safety is a luxury I can’t afford right now. And I don’t know about you but running to a new place every day doesn’t sound that appealing.”
Wyatt sighed as he thought. “There may be another way.” He sounded as though he didn’t even want to say aloud the idea which just went through his mind.
“What is it?”
“I make Damon talk.”
“That went over like a lead balloon last time.”
“This time I won’t ask so nicely. He knows what I’m capable of – how I work. And more importantly, I know how he thinks and operates.”
Michelle had to admit, there wasn’t much of an alternative. “How do we find him?”
“That’s the one thing I don’t know. Even having been his most trusted operative, I’ve never seen his home base.”
“Something tells me if we walk into the nearest gas station, Damon will know and it wouldn’t be long before we got a personal invite.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe, remember? There’s got to be another way.”
“I’m all ears.” Michelle raised her brow, knowing her plan was the quickest way to get the job done. However, Wyatt wasn’t so sure. He knew as soon as they set foot in the open, their lives would be in serious danger. Damon would have their location in a matter of minutes.
Reluctantly, Wyatt agreed. “Alright, but we do this my way, no unnecessary risks. Got it?”
Michelle nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling as if she were finally taking charge of her own life. And the more she embraced a fighting spirit, the more natural it felt. While she ate, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was letting a spirit of fear control her, when deep down inside, she knew there was the heart of a warrior. Even though her memory had yet to return, there are some things she could never forget – suppress for a while – but not forget.
As they were finishing up breakfast, Wyatt heard a familiar yet strange noise. His back up cell phone, one which he kept only at the cabin, and to which only a privileged few had the number, was ringing. It wasn’t anything fancy, just your standard flip phone, however, it did have a special feature which allowed Wyatt to trace any call back to the point of origin, regardless of what the caller ID said.
Pulling it from a kitchen drawer, the display read ‘Precinct’, so he decided to see what was so important. “Hello?” he answered, flipping the phone open.
“Detectiv
e Cage, this is Sergeant Lewis, it’s imperative that I speak with you.”
Wyatt’s brow furrowed. “How’d you get this number?” He asked with a slight growl in his tone.
“Captain Castle gave it to me. I told her I had information for you, and believe me, you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.” What he said was plausible, the Captain was one of the only few with the number.
“You have one minute, start talking.”
“That girl you’re with, her name is Michelle Dantes…she’s an escaped mental patient from Shuttermore psychiatric facility.” Wyatt’s brow furrowed in curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to think at the moment, however, was interested in hearing more. “She was put away after trying to kill her parents and burn down the house, blaming it on the voices in her head. You need to be careful, she has a history of violence, fits of rage, hallucinations, self-inflicting wounds, and split personality disorder. I’m sending you the file now. You can see for yourself what I’m telling you is true. Now I need to know, is she there with you?”
“Let’s just say she’s safe.” He replied.
“You need to bring her in. She can stay in a holding cell until the orderlies come to take her back.”
Wyatt was having a hard time believing any of that was true. But if it was then Michelle had been putting on one heck of a show. “Alright, let me look the file over and we’ll be there soon.”
“One other thing,” Lewis sounded serious. “Don’t tell her what’s going on, she’ll probably have a psychotic episode or something.”
