She wouldn’t stop.
When he finally reached for her, she fought back, beating her fists against his chest. She clawed at his face, but the man dodged her slow-moving attempts.
"She can't be allowed to live," the monster hissed at his victim.
“Please don’t hurt my baby,” the woman begged.
"No. She is the one who has to be killed," he said as he reached for the woman's pregnant abdomen. Once again, the woman tried to fight but he was incredibly strong. "I will make it quick. You will not suffer much."
The woman squirmed trying to escape the man’s strong hold, but she couldn’t get free.
Then the man let out a low growl and attacked.
I awoke, breathing heavily and gripping the edge of the seat in my right hand. I had remembered something in the eyes of the man chasing the woman. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something unnatural about his eyes.
“Shadowmist,” the bus driver called out distracting me from my dream.
The bus crawled to a stop as it pulled into the gravel parking lot of Shadowmist Transit Center. I heaved the bag onto my shoulder and thanked the driver before exiting the bus. Standing alone at the entrance of the transit center, I pulled a crumbled piece of paper from my pocket where I had written down the address of my new home. A random yet chilling thought entered my mind as I folded the paper and placed it back into my pocket.
“The bad man was always chasing you. He had black hair and wed eyes.” Nicolas’ voice echoed in my mind.
three
The cold air breathed through the building like a hungry animal ready to devour any heat in the room. Florescent lights (some bulbs needing to be replaced) lit the hallway as I walked to the front door of my new scantly furnished home. I had used my entire savings to put down the deposit and first month’s rent on the one-bedroom apartment. The old floors groaned with each footstep as I walked across the room. I scrunched up my nose at the musty smell that lingered within the walls as I took in the condition of the place. The walls were a pale yellow and the paint was peeling, exposing layers of frail attempts of home décor. The windows appeared to have no cracks but needed a good cleaning and I noticed dust had settled on most of the surfaces around the room. Anticipating that I would have to spruce up the new apartment, I had packed a few cleaning supplies from my room at the orphanage and I found some old rags and spray bottles under the kitchen sink. I wanted to rest after the long bus ride, but the dinginess of the place made it impossible to relax. I had what I needed to freshen up the place and make it look presentable, not that I was expecting visitors any time soon. I started in the bedroom, moving to the small living room and attached kitchenette.
I had spent my life surrounded by other children and several adults and it made the apartment feel quite and lonely. I almost missed the sound of small children laughing or crying and the sound of Ms. Whitaker’s boisterous voice over all the commotion. At the same time the lack of noise was a welcoming new ambiance. The apartment wasn’t much but it was mine, which meant I alone was responsible for everything, including rent.
There was a trendy boutique a few blocks down the street from my apartment. The manager had offered me a job after Mrs. Ramoni had helped me fill out the application and sent her a letter of recommendation. I would start the next morning, giving me one afternoon to unpack the few things I had and settle into my new home.
I emptied the contents of my bag onto the bed and began sorting through the heap of shirts, blue jeans, sweat pants, and other clothes. I picked up a light blue cotton tee with the word Lily Flare embroidered on the top left side of the shirt. I found it in the orphanage clothes closet last year and Erica said it cost a ‘pretty penny’ brand new. That was her way of saying it was an expensive brand name shirt. I had chosen it not because of the name, but because the shade of blue-gray color matched my eyes. People were always commenting on the unusual color of my eyes. Some would say they were cornflower blue or a brushed silver, but Emiel Payne, an older guy from Havencrest O (his way of referring to the orphanage), said they were like polished silver that reflected the blue sky.
I continued thinking about Emiel and the other residents as I placed the shirt on a hanger. I scooped up a pile of socks and as I turned to take them to the dresser, something slid off the bed and landed on the floor with a subtle thud. It was the picture frame that held the photo of Erica and me as children. I picked it up and felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I already missed Erica so much more than I thought possible. Living and sleeping alone, I knew I would miss the late-night conversations and how we would make up amazing stories of what our lives would be like when we finally left the orphanage.
Erica imagined herself a famous movie star. Her brown eyes would light up as she talked about how she planned to move to New York City to audition for shows and musicals. I always told her I believed she could do it. She had all the right stuff for it, beauty and grace. I had dreams of moving to a small town and meeting someone wonderful. We would have children, and at the risk of sounding cliché, I said we would live in a nice house with a white picket fence, maybe even have a dog or cat.
“He will be tall, dark and handsome,” I would say, and we would giggle. Then we would hear “lights out” and giggle some more.
With a sad sigh, I stood the frame on the table next to the bed. I pulled out the prepaid cell phone and started to send a message to Erica but deleted it instead. I needed to give myself some time to cope and get used to my new life.
Knuckles lightly tapping on the door startled me; I wasn’t expecting anyone. Images of the man with the scar came to my mind. “Who is it?” I asked nervously.
“Honey, it’s Polly from two doors down,” a shaky voice answered from the other side of the door.
I unlocked the dead bolt but left the chain attached. I peered out through the narrow opening at the small woman with white hair. She was smiling and holding a plate of cookies. The old woman appeared harmless, so I unhooked the chain and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor.
“Hi, I’m Polly,” the woman said, stretching her wrinkled hand out to me.
I took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. “My name is Analey.”
“Of course, dear,” Polly said, offering me the plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies she held in her trembling hands. “I made these for you when I heard there was a new tenant moving in.”
“Thank you.” I took the plate as the aroma of melted chocolate rose. “Oh, they smell delicious.”
“It’s an old family recipe,” the woman said.
There was a moment of awkward silence as the woman stood staring and smiling at me. The smile on Polly’s face made the skin around her soft blue eyes crinkle more.
“You sure are pretty. More so than the former tenant,” Polly said with a chuckle followed by a snort.
“Thank you, I guess,” I replied followed by more uncomfortable stillness.
“You live here by yourself?” Polly asked, leaning over to peer inside my apartment.
“Um, no. My boyfriend is in there unpacking some boxes.” I wasn’t sure why I was lying to the old lady, but I didn’t want it known that I was alone. “I should get back to helping him. We have a lot of work to do,” I said tilting my head towards the open door of my apartment.
“I’m just down the hall if you need anything,” Polly offered as she turned and headed down the hall. She dragged her feet over the red oriental runner that covered the walnut parquet floors. It was faded, and the edges had begun to unravel.
I watched as Polly entered her own apartment, then I stepped back into mine, closing and locking the door. I placed the plate of cookies on the coffee table and sat down on the couch with a book. Reading was the only way to ease my anxieties, and after all the reminiscing, I did feel anxious and restless. The cookies were still warm and tasted as delicious as they smelled. I wished I had a glass of cold milk to go with them, but I settled for a glass of tap water instead. I bit into another one,
and for the umpteenth time since arriving in Shadowmist, I thought of my best friend. Erica would have loved the cookies; chocolate chip was her favorite. I wondered if maybe moving away wasn’t the best idea. I could have stayed in Havencrest, just minutes instead of hours from my friends at the orphanage but leaving was the only thought I’d had for months.
Three cookies and four chapters later, I had fallen asleep on the couch with the paperback in my lap. It was a few minutes past midnight, when I opened my eyes again. The wind howled outside and whistled as it seeped through the poorly insulated window panes. I turned up the heat and climbed into bed fully dressed. I was too cold to change and too tired to care.
The bad man was always chasing you. Nicolas’ voice reverberated within the corners of my mind and woke me. I sat up in bed, my breathing coming out fast and shallow. The bad man was chasing the woman in my dreams, but not me.
It was just a bad dream. I told myself. I had failed to convince Nicolas and now I found it hard to believe it myself.
The wind howled again, and I had to remind myself that it was just the wind. I inspected every corner of the room as a feeling of foreboding swept over me. I had the awful sensation that I was not alone. Which I knew was an absurd notion because I was, in fact, all alone.
With sleep stolen from me, I walked over to the window and watched the sunrise. It was the first day of my new life. A flutter of fright and excitement bubbled within me as I took in a deep breath of the morning air and readied myself for work. I splashed icy water on my face and patted it dry with a towel. I dabbed some pressed powder on my face, swept mascara over my eye lashes, and rubbed pink lip gloss over my lips. I slipped into some black slacks and a rose-colored blouse, not a Lily Flare shirt but one just as nice. After checking my reflection in the mirror, I combed through my long black hair and let it hang loosely down my back.
I left the apartment with plenty of time, but still I walked briskly along the streets lined with freshly plowed snow. The chill in the air made me shiver under the pink pullover sweatshirt hanging over my small-framed body. It was two sizes too big, but it was my favorite winter clothing. I rubbed my hands together trying to get the blood pumping to warm them up and made my way towards the intersection.
Shadowmist was a small town, but it was well populated. Several businesses occupied the brick buildings, and as cliché as it sounded, everyone did seem to know each other. A man with gray hair, walking with the help of a cane, stopped to wave and say hello to me. I smiled and waved back at him, then continued down another block to a small shop where a woman was straightening a window display. The young woman brandished a wide smile, displaying a row of straight white teeth, as she waved. The boutique was directly across the street. I shoved my hands in my sweater pockets and without looking to see if the lane was clear, I stepped off the curb into oncoming traffic.
A car horn blared to get my attention. “Pay attention to where you’re going, lady,” the annoyed driver hollered over his loud horn.
He was the only person that morning that didn’t’ share the friendly attitude the rest of the town seemed to have. I mouthed an apology, feeling foolish for not paying more attention to the cars, and hurried across the street.
With butterflies in my stomach, I ran my fingers through my hair and smoothed out my sweatshirt, as I walked into the boutique. The bells on the door jingled as they clamored against the glass, announcing my arrival, but the plush blue carpet muted my footsteps as I hurried out of the cold and into the warm shop.
I looked around, taking in the sights of the upscale store. Lash and Cloye dresses, another brand of clothing that cost a pretty penny, hung on the racks closest to the door, followed by a row of fitted dresses with pleated skirts. Modern and stylish blouses, sweaters, and jeans hung on racks down the center and to the back of the store. Belts, scarves, and purses were displayed on the walls and outer edges of the room. Fine jewelry was kept in the locked glass cabinet. The sweet smell of lavender filled my nose as I made my way to the counter at the back of the store.
From behind the counter, a cheery girl with short curly ginger hair looked up, her brown eyes lit up with excitement when she saw me. She was a few years older than me, early twenties I assumed.
“Analey Rose,” the woman said, her lips turned up in a wide grin. “It’s so nice to finally put a face with the name. I’m Candice Garrett.”
I was a little caught off guard by Candice’s bubbly personality, and all I could do was offer a handshake and return the smile.
“Follow me. I will show you around the store,” Candice said.
She kept up the cheerful spirit as she showed me everything there was to see, dancing from display to mannequin and then back to the counter. I tried my best to keep up, but Candice smiled too much and made it hard for me to concentrate on anything she was saying. I did gather, however, that it was her day off and she had only come in to meet me.
“You will be working with Kami today,” Candice said. “She has your same schedule. Unfortunately, you and I only have one shift together this week.” It was the first time since meeting Candice that I saw her frown, but it didn’t last long. Her grin found its way back to her pink tinted lips.
“I hope I can learn everything about the job,” I said looking around the room. It was my first real job and I felt overwhelmed by all the responsibilities of the position. My chores at the orphanage had not prepared me for the real world.
“I have no doubt you will shine here,” Candice said. “Dr. Ramoni just raved about you. She said your abilities and work ethic were on point. Your stunning good looks don’t hurt either.”
I felt my face flush. I wasn’t used to, or comfortable with anyone, especially strangers commenting on my looks or character and I doubted Dr. Ramoni ever said on point. “Is there some place I can put my sweater?” I asked, hoping to change the subject and avert the attention away from myself.
“We have an employee breakroom in the back,” Candice said and as she turned to walk, I couldn’t help but smile at her chatty, yet gregarious personality.
I slipped the sweater over my head and followed Candice to the back of the store. We entered a room with a refrigerator, microwave and small table. There was a row of hooks on one wall and I hung my sweater next to a black suede jacket.
“Sit down while we wait for Kami,” Candice said as she offered me a chair. She sat across from me, folding her hands together on the table.
Candice asked me about Havencrest, and not wanting to go into much detail, I gave her vague answers about my friends and the orphanage. It wasn’t what I wanted to be known for: the poor orphan from Havencrest. I was hoping my unfortunate upbringing wouldn’t follow me to Shadowmist, but I was naive to think I could escape my past.
The backdoor opened and along with a stream of February wind, a gorgeous blonde sauntered into the breakroom. Her hair cascaded down her back in perfect golden strands. Her baby blue eyes sparkled like aquamarine gems against her fair skin tone. She wore a red silk blouse with tailored gray slacks. Envy punched the air out of my lungs as I looked at the ends of my black hair that fell over my shoulders and at my used outfit.
“Analey, this is Kami Dereli,” Candice said introducing me to the blonde goddess, which was the most accurate description.
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you,” Kami said. “We’re, um I mean Candice and I are glad you’re here.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Fabulous,” Candice squealed once the introductions were made. “I have a few errands to run but I will be around if you guys need anything.”
“Thank you, Candice. We can take it from here. You go and enjoy your day off,” Kami said as she slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the hook next to my pink sweatshirt.
“There are only three things that truly matter: kindness, friendship, and loyalty and Candice encompasses all three of those characteristics generously,” Kami said after the door had closed behind Candice.
I watched the ch
eerful red head through the large window until she crossed the street, waving and smiling at everyone she walked by and some she even greeted with a hug. It was easy to believe what Kami had said about her.
We don’t open for another hour,” Kami said. She locked the door and started towards the back room. “We’ll get all the new stuff out and onto the shelves.”
I nodded and followed her to the store room where all the new merchandise was kept. Metal shelves lined the walls of the room and boxes were arranged on them by their size and contents. I walked across the concrete floors that blended seamlessly with the shelving units, all in a consistent shade of gray. Kami grabbed a box from a stack and tilted her head towards another. Without argument, I retrieved the box and walked out of the room behind her.
After pulling the clear tape off the cardboard box, I took out an assortment of silk scarves. I hung them along with the belts on antique metal hooks as the details of my nightmare tried to playback. Each vivid vision brought a deep sense of fear with it and I was not able to suppress the ominous feeling that surrounded me. When the nightmares came, I experienced the panic and terror as I assumed the woman in my dreams had suffered.
I attempted to distract myself with the sights and scents around me. I wanted to push the unnatural visualizations out, but they were now crowding every corner of my mind.
“What do you think of Shadowmist so far?” Kami asked interrupting my rumination.
I thought about it for a moment. I couldn’t explain to her the strange surmises I had about Shadowmist nor the presentiments I had felt even before moving to the simple town.
“It’s different,” I admitted, “and everyone around here seems nice, but I guess I have a tough time around new people and unfamiliar places.”
“You’ll get used to it here,” Kami said. She rested her hands on the box she was unpacking as she talked.
I shrugged. I was used to Havencrest. It was a modern city with tall buildings and a busy population. People were always coming and going around the city; they didn’t have time to meddle in anyone’s business. The old-fashioned, historic town of Shadowmist was smaller in size and in population. I hadn’t noticed any major food chains or department stores around town. It was as if the modern-day hadn’t caught up to Shadowmist.
Edge of Forever: The Death and Life of Analey Rose (The Immortal Souls Book 1) Page 3
