by K. R. Rowe
She scolded herself for being silly, realizing she’d seen far too many horror movies. Corpses didn’t come back to life. They didn’t climb buildings to kill people. The living killed, and the dead do not rise. Those whose heat still pumped in their veins were far more dangerous. She’d learned that the hard way.
But the night continued to feed her fears. Too tired and afraid to get up, she stared at the window, irrational fear locking her gaze on the panes. Her eyelids drifted to slits but she dragged them back open, just to check one more time.
Did something move?
Her eyes flew open as the windowsill darkened. Black shadows poured over the stained wooden surface, down the wall and onto the floor. Allie sat up again, gaze locked on the movement. From all directions, black creatures slid across the glass and flowed through the open window. Some darted around the room’s interior, others oozed down the wall beneath the sill, pooling on the floor.
They gathered, pulling together, driving light from their mass and rising from the floor like molten tar. Allie eased from the bed and backed against the wall, her gaze riveted on the growing mass. She held her breath, inching toward the door. The entity hovered in place, taking on a vague featureless humanoid shape. It took no notice of her, but instead the street below held its attention.
Edging closer to the door, her foot caught on a cord, yanking a lamp from the nightstand. She grabbed it, easing it onto the floor but the black mass twisted toward her. Its flat onyx face scanned the room, its eyeless gaze searching before landing on her. Shadows split from the mass and circled the room. One stopped in front of her, almost touching her legs and cooling the air around her.
The shadow slid up the wall and stopped close to her ear. She held her terrified breath in her lungs, afraid to move or make a sound. Her legs trembled and she pressed her body against the plaster, trying to blend in. But it hovered close, examining her presence. Standing deathly still, she stared straight ahead, but the aphotic creature floated at the edge of her sight line. Cold sweat popped from her forehead and ran down her temple capturing the shadow’s attention. It moved closer, touching her cheek and chilling her skin. Terror ripped through her body, and her bladder released, trickling a warm stream of urine down her legs. The shadow startled. It whipped around her head and stopped. It hovered close for what felt like forever before losing interest and disappearing.
Across the room, the tall dark entity swirled in place, black tendrils thrashing from its core. Spinning back to the window, it paused before falling apart and dropping to the floor. Shadows scattered across the room. Darting under and around her bed, they raced up the walls and out the open window. They pulled the sickening stench from the room, and the burning electric scent of her air conditioner returned. The grinding noise faded to silence and the night sounds returned.
The lack of air burned her lungs, and she released her pent up breath. Tearing her unblinking gaze from the window, she checked the clock again—3:10 a.m.
She wasn’t dreaming this time.
Chapter 10
Coffee
It took more than the strong scent of espresso to wake Allie up. After her third cup of brew, her insides wanted to jump out of her skin, but her bloodshot eyes struggled to stay open. The coffee shop’s bright morning light chased the gloom from her head, but the surreal memory of the night before still lingered.
“It was just a dream.” Zoe added creamer to her coffee and opened her laptop.
“But it felt so real,” Allie said.
“You’re just freaked out and having nightmares.”
“Maybe, I don’t know. I might be dreaming, but something weird’s going on out there on the street.”
“You still packing?”
“Packing?”
“Your gun.”
“Oh. Always,” Allie said, patting her purse. “But, I don’t believe this is something I can shoot.”
“What do you mean?”
Allie leaned over the table and whispered, “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s human.”
Zoe took a sip of her coffee. “You think it’s some kind of animal?”
Allie shook her head. “No, not an animal. The way that man was killed, everything gone except his skin and clothes—”
“Did you see the body?”
“Not really, well maybe just a little, but I heard the police talking. How could a person do that? I mean—without being heard or seen? And why?”
“Maybe they killed them elsewhere, and just left them there. That would explain why you didn’t hear anything.”
“Maybe so. I didn’t think of that.”
Zoe spun her laptop to face Allie. “Have you ever read Crime Library?”
“No, what is it?”
“Check it out. It’s an online database with all types of information; forensic science, mass murders, war crimes. There’s a section about serial killers. It gives types of killers, how they select their victims, and it even gives the early signs of being a potential psychopath.”
Allie scanned the website menu. “This site has everything.”
“Yeah, and these killers are human—well sort of—if you consider them human. They kidnap their victims, skin them, eat their organs and preserve their hides to wear around the house.” Her friend chuckled. “Maybe one of those psychos was just passing through and lost one of his skins.”
“Zoe!” Allie snorted, and covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“That’s messed up,” Allie said, wiping her eyes and taking a sip of her coffee.
“It’s interesting though.”
“But it’s warping your mind.”
Zoe grinned. “Too late for that.”
“Seriously, why would they leave the skin behind?”
“To taunt the police?”
“Maybe, but it still doesn’t explain that thing that crawled through my window.”
“Oh come on,” Zoe released a frustrated groan and closed her laptop. “You’ve always been the most sensible person I know. Do you really believe the crap that old lady was feeding us?”
“I know, I shouldn’t, but it just seems to make sense.”
“Allie, you’re tired. You’re freaked out over this murder so close to your apartment. Then this crazy old nut-job pops up out of nowhere, spouting her demonic bullshit. Listen, they say when you sleep, your mind sorts the events of the day, replays them in different ways. It was just a dream. Your mind was sorting.”
Allie chuckled again. “Bullshit sorting. I don’t know, maybe you’re right.”
“I know I am. But until they catch this creep, be careful, don’t go out alone at night, and keep your gun in your side holster, not at the bottom of your purse.”
Looking up at the clock, Allie took the last gulp of her espresso. “I have to get behind the counter and get to work in a few minutes.”
Her friend leaned toward her. “Can you get me a job here?”
The bell above the door jingled, and they both glanced up.
Zoe blew out a low appreciative whistle. “Hey it’s that cute cop from the other day.”
“Officer Chambers?”
“Yeah. Is he the one that stopped by your apartment?”
Allie lowered her voice and pretended to be preoccupied with something on the table. “Yes. But don’t stare at him.”
“Why not?” Zoe asked. “He’s freakin’ hot—shit, he’s coming our way. Hide your gun.”
“I have a permit,” Allie whispered.
“But not a conceal permit.”
“Oh yeah, I shouldn’t be hiding it.” Allie dug into her purse. “I’ll just lay it on the table then.”
“Shit, don’t do that!”
A wide smile split Allie’s lips. “I’m kidding, relax, he won’t see it.”
“What if he searches your purse?”
“He won’t search my purse. Why are you so paranoid? You been smoking pot? Zoe it’s way too early to be smoking�
�”
“Shh!”
“Good morning,” the young officer said, stopping next to their table. “I apologize; I don’t mean to interrupt your breakfast …”
They both looked up and Zoe grinned. “You had no choice. Allie mindfreaked you over here.”
Allie kicked Zoe under the table. “It’s okay, Officer Chambers.”
“Call me Phillip.”
Allie nodded and started again. “It’s okay, Phillip. You’re not interrupting. I was just about to get to work anyway.”
He hesitated, sliding his cap between his fingers before he spoke again. “The reason I stopped over is, well, I saw you through the window.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “And I wanted to let you know there’s been another incident.”
“Incident?” Zoe asked. “What kind?”
“Another body’s been found, in an alley, just around the corner from the first.”
Fear coiled in the pit of Allie’s stomach. She held her cup tight to stop the tremor in her hands.
“Holy shit!” Zoe blurted. “Was he, you know, was it the same as the other?”
Phillip shook his head. “The investigation is ongoing, and I can’t really say more.”
Allie glanced at Zoe and lowered her voice. “See, I told you, it wasn’t a dream. Something’s out there.”
Zoe frowned. “There’s no such thing as evil spirits or demons.”
“But that thing was so real.”
“Well, maybe you did hear something, maybe that’s what woke you up.”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Just don’t go out alone at night, at all. At least not without your—”
Phillip cleared his throat.
They both looked up.
“Did you hear or see something?”
Allie shook her head. “Oh no, I just had something weird happen.”
“Just a nightmare,” Zoe said.
Phillip nodded. “Ah, well, I can see how that could happen, with all that’s going on, but try to stay in at night, for a while at least. And if you have to go out, don’t go alone. Be aware of your surroundings, and if you can think of anything—even the smallest bit of information, painted symbols you may not have seen before, strange people lurking about the area—give me, I mean, give us a call.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open.” Allie stood and glanced toward her boss behind the counter. “I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to rush off but I should get to work before they kick me out of here.”
He backed away to give her space and checked his watch. “So do I, but maybe you and I could talk about it more … over dinner? Tonight. Maybe?”
Before she could answer, Zoe piped in. “She’d love to.”
He fiddled with his hat and grinned at Allie. “Can I take that as a yes from you too?”
Allie gazed into his deep brown eyes. His sweet nervous smile melted her apprehension and she wondered if it was possible to fall in love with a guy so fast. An unconscious sigh escaped her lips and Zoe’s elbow caught her in the ribs. Embarrassment heated her cheeks when she realized she’d been staring. “Of course.”
“Okay then, I’ll drop by your apartment later. Around eight?”
“That sounds great.”
“And don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Third floor, Apartment 34,” Zoe said.
Phillip winked. “I know.”
* * *
Marring the glow of the full winter’s moon, low clouds stippled the onyx sky, scattering black patches across the rear parking lot. A long low growl crawled from the darkness. Allie stopped and listened, searching the periphery of the area, trying to figure out where the sound came from. A shrill scream cut through the chilled night air and Allie jumped, nearly knocking Phillip down the back stairs. Nearby, two cats crouched nose to nose, their fur standing on end, tails fat and twitching with agitation. Only a few yards separated her apartment building from Phillip’s vehicle, but to Allie, it felt like ten thousand miles. Picking up her pace, she couldn’t wait to get into the car. Phillip opened her door and she threw herself onto the seat. He chuckled, closed her door and strolled around to the driver’s side.
“What’s that smell?” he asked, sliding onto his seat.
“I think it’s the dumpster.”
Looking around, he closed the door. “You’re probably right, but it smells like something’s dead in there.”
Allie didn’t intend to lie, but she recognized the odor and it wasn’t the dumpster. At least she didn’t think so. She’d smelled it during her nightmare and around the time of the second murder. But what if it was the dumpster? What if the breeze caught the stench and dragged it through her open window? That would explain the smell from last night. She relaxed at the thought. With a piece of her nightmare explained, she could breathe a sigh of relief.
The car skirted her building and they pulled out onto the street. Phillip drove a half block before he turned the corner, cruised past a few buildings and stopped. To their right, bright yellow crime tape blocked the entrance to an alley. Ahead of them, darkness cloaked the deserted roadway, apart from one bright unwavering streetlight, splashing a fluorescent ring onto the street close to the alley’s entrance.
Weird.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Phillip said, opening his door. “One of the guys left his flashlight earlier and asked me to pick it up.”
“Okay.”
Allie pulled her coat tighter around her and watched him walk out of sight. Her eyes lingered on the alley’s entrance, before she shifted her gaze back to settle on one of the structures he’d passed. Half way up the building’s front wall, the paint held a bright, clay hue, but the color stopped, like lines in the sand from retreating waves. Above the fresh paint, large sections of the dirty gray surface had peeled away, revealing the building’s crumbling stucco. She’d watched many painters in her lifetime, had even repainted her own apartment, and painters didn’t work this way. They didn’t re-stucco and repaint halfway up a wall and then stop, leaving it half done. This was unusual. It looked like the building was healing itself; replacing its decaying facade from the street up; its scarred neglect growing new skin.
Regenerating.
The bright yellow crime tape twisted in the breeze, fracturing the streetlight. Its dark fluttering likeness danced on the roadway, but Allie took little notice. Her focus lay elsewhere. Stoops lined the sidewalk every several yards. Up three or four steps, thick wooden doors sunk into the building’s façades. Their dingy white surfaces, ghostly in appearance, glowed against the backdrop of night.
All were identical.
All but one.
Two stoops down, black filled the doorway. Allie squinted, believing the door to be a different color. She strained her eyes for a closer look, realizing that a thick layer of shadow filled the yawning aperture. Behind the murk, the lock, frame and knob had all disappeared. While she watched, a small strip of white appeared at the top of the opening, revealing the light painted oak. The door materialized, as the shadows left it and oozed down its surface. A puddle of black pooled on the small porch, before spilling down the steps and into the street. The dark spot divided into dozens, sliding over the cobblestones toward her. She sat up, pressing her forehead against the glass, watching them surround the car. The windshield darkened, blocking the light from the streetlamp. Flat black tendrils crawled up the door and picked at the top edge of the passenger window.
It wanted in.
Allie’s trembling fingers searched the door handle and locked the car. She yanked her hand away and scooted closer to the seat’s center. A rancid stench poured through the vent, filling the car. She gagged, switching off the heat and closing the vents. The streetlight disappeared, plunging the car’s interior into darkness. She wanted to honk the horn and scream for Phillip—either for help or warning, she wasn’t sure—but it would only put him in danger. Instead, she closed her eyes.
This isn’t real. Please go aw
ay.
Around her, the air cooled, and the darkness behind her lids did nothing but rekindle visions of the staring flat sockets of the creature in her apartment. Afraid to open her eyes, she listened, but the sound of her labored breathing and the fast thump of her heartbeat drowned out all other sound.
A loud rap on the window snapped her lids open.
Her eyesight adjusted to the undisturbed night. Light from the streetlamp poured through the windshield and Phillip stood at the driver’s side door, embarrassment filling his deep brown eyes.
“I must have locked myself out of the car.”
Allie fumbled in the dark, pushing buttons until the lock clicked.
Phillip opened the door, slid in and grinned. “Thanks.”
“Did you see that?” Allie asked.
“See what?”
* * *
Allie loved this area. Zoe’s parents had brought her here once for ice cream on her birthday, but that was the only time she’d eaten in this place. It was much too pricy. Mill Works Restaurant perched on the edge of Port Bella Rosa’s manufacturing sector. Long closed factories were refurbished and subdivided into usable space, transforming the area into a bustling art district.
As a teenager, Allie often came here just to get away. She knew her foster parents would punish her, but it didn’t matter much. Even if she stayed around the house, they would find some other reason to discipline her. Restaurants and bars speckled the district, and she’d stand outside the trendy shops, gazing inside. Often she’d be invited inside to chat, or she would mingle with the painters and sculptors selling their artwork along the sidewalks. They accepted her here, like she was one of their own.
Allie had talent, but her foster parents had taken her paintings and burned them, saying her gift was born of the devil. When she painted, her soul poured onto the canvas, baring her innermost thoughts, but often, a dark depressing, and sometimes frightening scene emerged. She craved love, but with their crazed, abusive religious beliefs, they only fed her hate. Once the state had given them custody, her foster parents set out to cleanse her infected soul. They’d said her parent’s deaths were their punishment for bringing such evil into the world, and her brother a spawn of Satan, just like her. They reminded her every day how her parents were killed, and locked her in her room every night, just to keep everyone safe, but no matter how hard she tried, the memories of their deaths wouldn’t surface. She just couldn’t remember, and she’d begun to believe that she was evil, just as they’d said, until she met Zoe.
