Shades of Fear

by D. L. Scott

  "Don't be afraid," the voice, smooth as velvet, said. "I'm not like them. I won't hurt you," he persuaded her to come closer offering his hand to her.

  Lisa just sat there staring at him. She could make out his features; against her better judgment she found him attractive. She didn't want to trust him but he could be telling the truth and at this point it might be her only chance to escape this house of horrors. She cautiously moved closer to him but didn't take his hand.

  "My name is Vincent, you are Lisa, correct?" he asked.

  She only nodded. She was mesmerized by his face; he was incredibly handsome and much gentler than Thomas. She felt compelled to believe him but she also thought Joseph was a nice and normal gentleman until he wasn’t.

  "I know you must be startled. My brother and Thomas told me what happened, I'm sorry about your friend," he said genuinely.

  "What are you?" Lisa asked, her voice hoarse from crying.

  "We are vampires," he blurted out. "We are monsters, well they are. I struggle every moment with what I am. I eat for sustenance because I have no choice but I don't torture and kill like they do," he explained.

  "Get me out of here. Please," Lisa asked crying. “Just let me leave.”

  "I can't yet. They are still around, waiting for me to tell them what happened. Once they retire to their rooms for the day I will bring you somewhere safe and help you get back to your family," he explained.

  Lisa nodded and scooted back into the cage. Vincent pulled her out of the cage. She tensed up, frightened he was going to go back on his word and kill her.

  "Please, let me bring you to my bedroom. You can clean up and get some sleep. They know I hate it down here so they won’t question you being upstairs with me,” he said while walking with her up the stairs.

  She followed meekly and kept her eyes down. The last thing she wanted was to see Thomas or Joseph. He led her up to the second floor and into his bedroom. He told her where the shower was and left her alone.

  She got under the hot water and cried frantically, she knew it was still not safe for her; anything could change at any second. She walked towards the bed and shuddered at the sight of clean clothes; she didn't want to know where they came from. She was sitting on the bed when Vincent walked in.

  "Please, rest now. It's still hours until morning and I can't take you out of here yet. It's too dangerous."

  He helped her get comfortable and Lisa's eyes started to feel heavy. She tried to resist sleep; she didn't trust that she would survive the night in this house no matter how nice Vincent was acting.

  Gain their trust and then attack.

  "Why do they do this?" She begged for answers.

  "We are monsters, we know no other way. Your blood is our sustenance but Thomas enjoys playing with his food, torturing it, and 'savoring' it as he says. Joseph is not much better; he keeps Renee around as a slave and drains a girl a day in that dungeon. I'm the only one that doesn't kill for food," he explained. "It can actually be quite enjoyable if you let it be." He put his hand on Lisa's and pulled her arm towards him.

  She tried to pull away, fear gripping her again with the sight of Amy bleeding fresh in her mind. He shushed her and put her wrist to his mouth. He licked her pulse point and kissed her inner wrist softly. She moaned slightly and then felt a sharp pain followed by subtle pleasure. Vincent drank from her wrist and stopped after a few seconds. She pulled her wrist away and turned her back to him. She felt violated by him. She was trying to grasp how she could enjoy one moment of being in this house of vampires and hated herself for it.

  "Sleep. I will wake you when it’s time to go," he told her running his hands through her hair.

  She was gently shaken awake. The sun still was not up but Vincent pulled her up and carried her quietly down the stairs. He went out the back door without making a sound and put her down on the grass.

  "There's an abandoned cabin on the other side of our property. We will go there and wait for the police to come for you, I’ve already called them,” he explained.

  She nodded and followed behind him. They reached the empty cabin and went inside to wait. She saw lights in the distance bouncing around in the dark and realized they were flashlights. She wanted to run outside to the waiting police officers. She still felt uneasy but who wouldn't after discovering vampires existed and they killed your best friend.

  Vincent held her arm tightly. She tried to pull away to step outside when she saw the police coming out of the woods but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “What are you doing? They’re here for me. Let me go,” she pleaded, realizing that he wasn’t as kind as he made himself out to be.

  "You stupid girl," he laughed. "Did you think you would so easily be freed from your nightmare?"

  "You said you were different, that you would help me," Lisa said while tears welled in her eyes.

  "I lied; this whole thing is one elaborate game. Didn't I tell you we like to play with our food, torture and cause pain? Thomas does it physically and I torment emotionally and mentally. How do you think we find victims? It’s all set up, from the attendant suggesting the shortcut to the conveniently placed nail strips for car accidents, and the lack of cell phone coverage. Money is power and we are rich beyond your wildest imagination," he explained coldly.

  She tried to pull away and he slammed her face against the window. Lisa could see the police in the distance, their flashlights getting further away from the cabin; from her freedom. She cried and struggled against him hoping she could break the window or just run out and call for help. But Vincent had her pinned down and wouldn’t let her go.

  "Go ahead, watch your chance at being saved walk right on out of these woods. Oh they'll find you and your friend, but you will only be a sad case of wild animals attacking people in the woods, it happens around here more than you’d think," he whispered in her ear.

  She felt his fangs sink into her neck and the blackness of the woods enveloped her in its embrace.

  About the Author

  Maria Sauerbrei is a new indie author, NJ native, and lover of all things creativity. When she isn't furiously writing her next short story she can be found with a camera in her hand taking photos of all the beauty life has to offer.

  Maria has a B.A. in English Literature from Grand Canyon University in Phoenix, AZ and is currently working on obtaining her M.A. in English Literature from Southern New Hampshire University.

  Shadows

  By D.L. Scott

  “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  The young woman felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and a shiver slithered down her spine. Most of the street lights were out, the parking lot dark. It was cold. She could see her breath in front of her. She had lost track of the time and her car was parked in the middle of the darkened lot, isolated and yards from the buildings. Shadows darkened the corners, adding a menacing feel to the chilly air.

  Tamia Williston hesitated and glanced back through the doors, shivering. Even through the layers she had on, the sweater, the heavy coat, the wind chill was seeping through. She knew it wasn’t just because of the cold or the icy blast of the wind. The fear was there.

  She had grown up with the fear and knew it well. She took a deep breath. Snap out of it, Tamia. You’ve come this far. Damn it! Even as she scolded herself, she was tempted to get someone to walk her out but shook her head and straightened her shoulders. She refused to think of what the dark signified, of what lay in the shadows. She refused to be afraid anymore. She was no longer in that dark crevasse her parents had thrown her into, over and over again. The dark was a familiar place, a place that if she let it, could consume her. She had learned that anything could happen in the dark but she had fought and won. So far, she admitted, shivering again.

  She gripped her purse in her hands. You’re being silly, girl
, she thought. She headed for her car, her sneakers slapping the concrete of the pavement. She was 27 years old for crying out loud. She hadn’t thought of the past in months and now this. What had changed? Why now?

  Tamia glanced around, her blue eyes wary, and looked up at those lights. Why weren’t the lights working? It was approaching midnight but her boss had asked her to stay late to handle the paperwork for an important client for the following day.

  She had always been good with getting home before dark and her boss usually understood even if he didn’t understand why. He didn’t know the whole story or why she was always so set on getting home before dark. She refused to tell anyone, even her psychiatrist.

  There were just some things she couldn’t talk about and the past was one of them.

  Tamia approached her small car and reached inside her purse for her keys. Her hands shook and her breathing grew ragged, her heart pounding furiously. Hurry up and get in. Everything is fine. Her fingers touched the cold metal of the keys and she pulled them out, a relieved sigh tickling her throat. Suddenly, she stilled and tensed. A noise came from her right and she whirled. Her eyes widened as the dark shadow rose.

  She opened her mouth, her throat tight as the scream fought to break free. Her neck burned and she tried to twist away, to run, but her legs refused to move. She felt the world spin and started to fall, the concrete coming closer. As unconsciousness claimed her, thick arms caught her and a chuckle filled the silence.

  # # #

  The alley was pitch-black, the light held at bay from the shadows of hopelessness from the abandoned buildings that lined the streets.

  Trash littered the cracked concrete floor and the odor of decaying flesh and garbage made her want to gag, her stomach rolling with nausea.

  She breathed in through her mouth and her heart hammered against her chest.

  Tamia faltered, a pale cast to her face as she looked behind her, the fear a tangible presence as her wide eyes searched the dark and flickering shadows.

  She could feel him, his odor of sweat and malice; his dark eyes watching as he waited for her next move. It was as if they were playing a game of chess.

  She had just landed in checkmate.

  In the movies, she had always cursed the women for going into the dark; into a deserted alley and now here she was, in the same position, about to make the same choice. On top of that, her past should have taught her the valuable lesson. She never played with the dark. Never.

  But she didn’t have a choice. She was beyond exhausted. Her limbs felt heavy and her eyes burned from lack of sleep. The bastard had let her escape. It was all a game to him. He got off on it; on building the false hope and then snatching it away, again and again.

  Tamia had learned that from experience.

  The first time had been in a cabin. She had awoken, unbound and free. The two windows had been boarded up, the light held at bay. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed or where she was but the room had been empty.

  Her body hurt and her heart began to pound again. She got up slowly, wincing at the soreness of her muscles.

  Standing, she looked around and began to search the small area. She hadn’t even thought to check the door; having assumed it would be locked. It wasn’t. Shocked, she had opened it and the darkness beyond had almost frozen her in her place. She lurched past the steps and stumped down into the forest. She hadn’t cared where she was headed. She had only known that she had to escape.

  She had taken off running, not concerned about the noise beneath her feet. Her breathing was ragged, harsh, as she ran. Her sides ached, pain traveling up her legs. Branches scratched her arms, legs, and her face, but she didn’t care.

  She heard him running behind her, coming in fast. She screamed as she felt herself fall, her breath knocked out of her as she hit the frozen ground.

  She rolled away and tried to jump back up but arms held her down. A dark chuckle reached her ears and she gasped. She tried to spit out the gritty taste of dirt in her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream again but something blocked the airways.

  She met his gaze in the dark, the black mask hiding all but the fierce glitter in their depths. She tried to scream but his large hand squeezed and tightened. She he gasped, her mouth opening as she tried to suck in the bitter cold air of the night.

  “Please, don’t,” she choked. She tried to kick him off but he was too heavy, his weight smothering her.

  He had jerked her up without saying a word and the sudden momentum had almost sent her sprawling into the bushes and trees but his arm had stopped her.

  Blinding pain had erupted behind her eyes and she hadn’t felt the ground as she had hit.

  The second time she had woken up again in the dark, but this time, she had been in the middle of a long stretch of pavement, a highway. She hadn’t realized then that hope was futile.

  She didn’t know where she was but she glanced around wildly, searching for him. There was nothing but silence. No headlights breaking through the dark. No sound penetrating the night.

  Nothing.

  She had winced as she stood up and blood had covered her legs, soaking through her ripped jeans. Scratches and cuts marred her face and arms and her t-shirt was shredded, blood splattered on the cloth as well. The wind was frigid, icy, and she shivered. She had started to limp down the highway.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been minutes or hours. The wind ruffled her long hair and even through the icy blast of the breeze, sweat coated her body. Her teeth chattered and her legs trembled. Her chest hurt from the cold but she didn’t stop.

  Just then, a chill invaded her limbs and she shivered. It had nothing to do with the winter blast of the night. She swirled, her eyes wide. She searched the dark frantically, her breath shuddering. “Please, oh god, please go away,” she choked.

  She backed up; walking backwards as her eyes flew around, searching the night. She couldn’t see anything but somehow, she knew he was there. She could feel him; could feel his satisfaction and anticipation.

  “Why?” she cried, her voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

  Tears streamed down her face and she turned and ran. Pain shot up her legs and they crumbled beneath her. She cried out as she tripped. She felt hard hands grab her hair and she screamed, grabbing at her head. She tried to jerk away, to run but the shadow behind her laughed and jerked her back.

  “Don’t you just love our game?” a dark voice whispered, his hot breath in her ear. The tears came faster. “You always have the chance to escape, to run, but I’ll always find you. You can’t hide from me.”

  She was onto his game and knew it was just a matter of time before he caught her again.

  But now she was in a city and she refused to believe she didn’t stand a chance. She knew that’s what the bastard wanted; that false sense of hope, but she couldn’t help it. And the bastard knew it. He knew what she was thinking before she thought it and anticipated her move before she made it.

  She was running out of time. Tamia could feel and sense his impatience with the game and knew he was growing tired of her. The last woman had lasted three weeks. Tamia was going on four weeks, ever since that night in the parking lot. She was past the fear that paralyzed, past the terror that had consumed her in the beginning. Now she was numb.

  She couldn’t feel the bruises that covered her body, couldn’t feel the cuts, burns, or breaks in her hands. She was grateful for the numbness.

  Tamia looked behind her again and then down the alley, her eyes sweeping the shadows. She knew he was anticipating her move and knew that he would think that she would take the streets, to find help that way.

  But he had picked the perfect location. The streets were empty, deserted, the streetlights busted from stray bullets. It was a ghost town; the people enclosed and locked in their houses under the illusion of safety. This area was the worst in the city with gunshots and murders a common occurrence. People stayed out of the way of the gang war
s and drug dealers.

  Even the police maintained an absence.

  At this point, Tamia would welcome another soul, even a rapist or another murderer. At least she would know what to expect and have a chance.

  Without another thought, Tamia took off down the alley. Her feet slapped against the cracked pavement.

  She heard the pounding footsteps behind her and knew that this was it. When he caught her, he was going to kill her. She wasn’t a challenge for him anymore.

  She heard his rough laugh behind her, his hot breath against her neck, and choked down a scream, her heart slamming against her ribs. Tamia had to save her energy, her voice, for when she could use it.

  Sweat stung her eyes, her black hair flying behind her. She ran around a corner, into another dark alley, her breathing coming in harsh gasps. She didn’t know why she kept running.

  She was so tired.

  Tamia saw the large chain-link fence in front of her and wanted to scream, to cry, to rage and almost stopped.

  Instead, her stride lengthened and picked up speed, and her eyes narrowed onto her target. She could almost feel his surprise and rage at what she was about to do. He hadn’t anticipated this move.

  With the last bit of strength that she had left, Tamia jumped and her hands reached for the top of the fence, her fingers digging into the sharp points of the wire. Her fingers clenched around the top and with a grunt, she pulled herself up and over, landing with a groan on the other side.

  Without a pause, she shot up and started to run, the piercing ache in her side threatening to bring her to her knees. She gasped and then clenched her teeth in pain. She spied the busier streets up ahead, people walking and laughing, the streetlights glowing.

  Tamia felt her heart catch, the possibility of rescue almost too good to be true.

  With a gasp and groan, she ran for the streets, landing with a jarring thump on the sidewalk. Blackness threatened and she felt hands on her, searching.

  “No,” she gasped. She tried to shrink away, to twist and run as more hands were added. The world spun and the bile worked its way up her parched throat. It had been two days without water and almost a week without food. She tasted acid in her throat.