Shadows of the Past: A Supernatural Suspense Mystery (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 1)

by Nellie H. Steele

Josie realized they meant well but her sheer exhaustion made the conversation tedious. “I’ll see how things go after today,” she said, hoping to end any further conversation.

  She wasn’t that lucky. Michael continued. “I wouldn’t put it off, Josie. It seems like you’re getting worse.”

  “Getting worse? What’s that even mean?”

  “You’re getting less sleep, having the nightmares more often, you’re having some physical symptoms now like headaches, fainting, I just…” he began to respond.

  Josie cut him off. “I fainted once. It’s Sunday. If I need him, I’ll call tomorrow.”

  “He has an emergency line,” Damien offered.

  “And that line is for emergencies. This is not an emergency. Asking for a sleep aid is not an emergency.” Josie sighed.

  “How about an over-the-counter?” Michael asked.

  “Those do the exact opposite of what they’re supposed to do for me,” Josie said, knowing that over-the-counter sleep aids made her jittery. “I’m just going to hang out in bed today, try to rest and relax and if I am this bad tomorrow, I’ll call, okay?”

  The men shared a glance. They weren’t getting any further with this advice at the moment. “Okay,” they both said in unison.

  As Josie left the room with her bowl of oatmeal, Damien called after her, “Text us if you need anything, we can bring it up to you.”

  “Thanks, D,” she shouted back.

  Josie forced her oatmeal down before lying back in bed. She grabbed her remote and turned on the small T.V. she had in her room. She didn’t care what she watched she just wanted some background noise. She started to perk up a little, but she didn’t want to push herself. Maybe that was the problem, she was pushing herself too hard and needed a day of rest. She settled back into her pillows, determined that this would make a world of difference for her psyche.

  Perhaps she would take Damien up on his offer to bring her something and trouble him for a cup of tea, she thought, grabbing her phone. As she picked it up, she recalled turning it off last night, having received several unwanted texts from the strange man who had been following her. She supposed it was stupid to have texted a stranger, but she had been so desperate last night.

  She turned the phone back on, waiting for it to power up. As she waited, she hoped that she would find no messages waiting for her. She planned to delete the conversation from her phone and throw the business card away so she wouldn’t be tempted to repeat something so foolish again.

  As her phone came to life and connected to the network, she heard several chimes. So much for her wish being granted. Several text messages waited for her, all of them from the same person. She frowned; she had made a huge error in texting him. Unlocking her phone, she began by texting Damien, requesting a cup of tea. He answered her within seconds that he would have a hot cup up to her in a jiffy with a smiley face and a hug emoticon.

  Josie smiled at the message before setting her phone down. She did not intend on reading the stranger’s other messages but her curiosity got the better of her. She picked up her phone, opened the message app and selected the unread messages.

  I’m sorry about the other day, I realize you are overwhelmed

  The nightmares will stop or at least slow once you remember

  I realize you don’t believe me but I can prove that I know you

  Josie stared at the messages. The first two sounded like typical messages in a disagreement where one person was attempting to draw the other to their side. The last one struck her though. Prove it, she thought. How could he prove to her that they were acquainted?

  As she studied the phone, another message popped onto her screen: Good morning, Josie… I hope you didn’t answer because you fell asleep :)

  Josie clicked her display off, as though having it on allowed the man to see her and see that she was there. Josie pondered for a moment. Should she respond and if so, what should she answer? Was she crazy to respond to him? Perhaps it was best to let things drop, but she was intrigued to find out how he could “prove it” to her. Perhaps she could be finished with him once and for all if he didn’t provide evidence.

  As she pondered her options, Damien knocked and came through the door without waiting for a response. “Special delivery!” he said cheerily as he came through the door carrying a tray. “Tea, two sugars, just like you like it, nice and hot! And some cookies!” he said, setting the tray on her nightstand. She moved the music box out of his way, setting it on her lap. “Here, I’ll take that,” he said, reaching for it.

  “No, leave it.”

  “You sure? I was just going to move it to the dresser.”

  “I’m sure, it’s fine. Thanks.”

  “Oh, this episode is great,” Damien said, noticing the T.V. show on her screen. “Want some company?”

  Guilt consumed Josie about her borderline rude behavior earlier so she motioned that he was welcome to stay. “Awesome,” he said, throwing himself onto the opposite side of the bed and grabbing a cookie.

  “So, did you want to stay for my sake or for cookies?” Josie teased.

  “Cookies, definitely the cookies,” he joked back.

  Josie took a sip of her tea and nibbled a cookie. “Hey, sorry about before, I was just super tired.”

  “Yeah, I understand, Jos. It’s okay. We both realize that you’re having a rough time, we just want to make things easier.”

  “I know, sometimes, though, I just, I don’t want to deal with it or have anyone treat me like there’s something wrong with me. Anyway, sorry.”

  Damien put his arm around her in a half hug and she let her head rest on his shoulder for a moment. After a short while, he reached around her as though he would give her a full hug. Instead, he snagged a cookie from the plate. She picked her head up, giving him a face. “What?” he said, stuffing the cookie in his mouth.

  Despite her lack of rest, it was the most normal moment the two had shared since Josie had been struggling with her nightmares and visions in the last week. She tried to enjoy the moment as much as possible, seeming almost normal again. Perhaps this was just what she needed. “Hey, who is this guy? The actor, what’s his name? What else was he in?” Damien asked.

  “Um, I’m not sure, wait I look him up.”

  “Okay, you do that, I’ll get more cookies,” Damien said, grabbing the plate he had emptied and hopping off the bed. Josie swiped her phone open as he darted out of the room. The message from her strange stalker appeared on the screen. While alone, she responded: How can you prove it?

  She closed the app and went back to searching the actor Damien asked about. He returned within a few minutes with a replenished plate of cookies. “Did you find it?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Josie answered, telling him the actor’s name and what else he had starred in as he settled back on the bed to finish the show.

  Josie’s cell phone soon chirped. She grabbed it to check the message. It was from her mysterious stalker. She did not want Damien to see the response, but she also didn’t want to create suspicion, so she nonchalantly checked the message and responded. His message read: I can tell you details about your nightmares

  Okay, so go on she responded to him.

  Damien gave her the side eye. “It’s my mom,” she lied. “Just checking up on me.”

  “Did you tell her things are getting worse?”

  “No, I didn’t, and I’m not planning to,” Josie continued to fib.

  “Okay, sure. So, she thinks everything is okay?”

  “Pretty much,” Josie said, telling a small bit of truth. She hadn’t told her mother anything in detail, only that she had been experiencing some sleepless nights. Her mother was not aware of the pervasiveness of the nightmares or the stalker.

  Josie’s phone chirped again. Satisfied with her explanation, Damien paid no attention, returning his full attention to the T.V. Josie opened the message: You’re being chased through a cave with blood all over your hands

  The details were close
to her latest iteration of the dream, leaving her more than a little disconcerted. How would this stranger know this? Perhaps he had broken into the therapist’s office and listened to the recording. He couldn’t have gotten the detail about the blood from that recording. That piece of the dream hadn’t developed until after the therapist’s visit. Besides, that seemed a little farfetched. Although perhaps less farfetched than having a stalker following you around gifting you music boxes and telling you to remember your true identity. Josie didn’t answer for a moment, setting the phone down to consider her response.

  Another message came through: I’m right, aren’t I and now you’re wondering how I know

  Josie found herself annoyed, not only was it disturbing that this stranger was correct about her dream but now he presumed to tell her what she was thinking. There had to be some reasonable explanation. Had he been spying on her and overheard her talking about the nightmare? Did he break into the therapist’s office and listen to the tape Dr. Reed made? Josie wasn’t sure, but she had an idea that she presumed might end the situation. She texted back: No, you’re wrong… that’s not what my nightmare is about

  Josie waited for the response. After a moment, the phone chirped and Josie read the latest in the saga of text messages: I’m not wrong… also here is more evidence…

  She waited for the supposed proof. Within seconds, the phone sounded again and Josie opened the message. She took an extra moment to stare at the latest message, her mind unable to wrap around what she was seeing. The message contained a picture of a photograph. The man, her stalker, stood in the photo. He was smiling, his arm wrapped around the woman next to him. Much to Josie’s shock, she recognized the woman. It was Josie herself. Josie did not recall taking this picture, but the woman in the photo was identical to her, down to the mole on her cheek that she hated. She had her arm wrapped around the man’s waist and her other arm rested on his stomach. Her smile beamed through the picture.

  She turned off her phone display, disturbed by what she had just witnessed on it. She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to dwell on the photo at the moment, afraid that Damien might wonder what she found so interesting. It must be a fake. It couldn’t be real; Josie had never met the man before. She needed to study it more, but she didn’t want messages to continue to pour in while she waited for an opportune moment. She texted back: I need time to think

  She received an immediate response: I’ll be here when you’re ready, Celine

  Ignoring it, she set her phone down, pretending to watch the show with Damien. Her mind buzzed from what she had just seen. She found it hard to focus. “Can I trouble you for a second cup of tea?” she asked.

  “Sure, I’ll be back in a jiff!” he said, hopping off the bed and grabbing her mug. He headed out of the room. Once alone, Josie grabbed her phone. She opened the messaging app and the picture. She zoomed in on the woman’s face. If this wasn’t her, it was a twin or a near-identical look alike. The hairstyle she had was slightly different from what she normally wore, but it looked like her hair color and texture. She didn’t remember having a dress like the one the person in the picture wore; it was bright pool blue with six gold buttons on it from the neckline to the waist. The pair stood in front of what appeared to be a house, but Josie couldn’t be sure since only a portion of it could be seen. She didn’t recognize it as any place she had been, although there seemed to be something familiar about it. Josie zoomed in and out on various parts of the picture, trying to determine where it was taken or if it could have been doctored to make her appear to be somewhere she had never been. If someone had tampered with the photo, it must have been done by a professional. In addition to that, it was printed to appear aged. The picture was of an actual photograph that looked like it was printed decades ago based on the style of printing method used.

  The plot thickened for Josie and she wasn’t enjoying the new twist. She texted back: I don’t know you or how you created that picture but that can’t be me

  He responded in less than a minute: You don’t remember but I can help you… This is the cause of your nightmares… well one cause

  Josie texted back: There is nothing to remember

  She felt like she was going crazy. She had no memory of this man but it appeared to be her standing in the photograph with him. She considered for a moment asking her mother or Damien, but she didn’t want to tip her hand. Why was she afraid though? What was forcing her to keep this a secret from her cousin and her mother? As she pondered this, Damien appeared, her mug in hand, carefully carrying it with steaming hot tea.

  “A second cup, as requested,” he said, setting it down on the saucer he left on her night table from the first cup.

  “Thanks.” She smiled appreciatively.

  “Sure,” he said, rearranging the pillows to get comfortable again.

  Josie checked her phone, she had a message waiting: I know you don’t believe me… I’ve given you some proof… please give me the chance to convince you

  The image burned in Josie’s mind. He had correctly identified her dream, and he had a picture of them together. She teetered on the edge of losing her grip on reality from sheer lack of sleep and from the strange visions plaguing her, particularly those that involved her speaking a foreign language that she didn’t speak. Impetuously she answered: It has to be in a public place… I’m not meeting with you alone

  Within seconds the man responded: Just tell me where and when

  Josie pondered for a few moments before responding. She did not know how she could meet him given the close eye that Damien and Michael were keeping on her. She wanted to meet in a crowded spot. She had an idea and texted back: The Roasted Bean Coffee House on West St… 10am tomorrow

  He responded: I’ll be there

  Within a few minutes, Josie received another text: If you need anything before then, call or text… I promise this is a positive step for you… for us

  Josie tossed the phone down onto the covers, contemplating what she had just done. She tried not to dwell on it, it was over for the moment and she had almost twenty-four hours to deliberate about it before she had to show up at the café. Twenty-four hours to hope and pray that what she was doing was a positive step forward for her. She sunk back in her pillows and attempted to enjoy the show and the company.

  He set his phone down. There would likely be no more messages from her until they met, if she came. He hoped she did, but he realized she might try to back out. He stopped himself from dwelling on that; she would come, and he would convince her. He had no other choice, he was out of options. It was not only a positive step for her but also for him. He checked his watch. Less than twenty-four hours to go. He’d use the time to plan what he would say to her, what the best way was to convince her of the truth. It wouldn’t be easy but at least he had the opportunity. He would take full advantage; he could not fail. Too many people’s lives depended on him succeeding.

  Chapter 11

  Josie poured her tea before anyone else appeared for the day. As she took the first sip she contemplated her plan, hoping it would work. She spent most of her sleepless night wondering if she was doing the right thing, vacillating between backing out and going through with meeting the stranger. At least her troubled mind and wavering decisions prevented her from having the nightmare again, most likely because she slept so little. What little sleep she got was tainted by nonsensical dreams splicing together any and every recent event in her life.

  She was running on adrenaline, so fatigue hadn’t set in yet. She turned to leave the kitchen, planning to take her tea onto the porch and watch the rain fall before checking the status of a few accounts prior to her meeting with the strange man who claimed to know her. She realized at that moment that she didn’t even know his name. Shaking the nagging reluctance to go through with the plan from her mind, she headed out of the kitchen.

  Michael was on his way down the stairs along with Damien. “Good morning,” she said.

  “Hey, good morni
ng,” Damien answered. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Good morning, yeah, same question here,” Michael echoed.

  “No, not really. I did contact Dr. Reed’s office. He said to come by today around ten to discuss options. Maybe he can give me a script.”

  “Ten? Can you change it? I’ve got an in-office meeting,” Michael said.

  “I’ve got to be in the office today, too,” Damien admitted.

  “No, nope, can’t change it. That’s all he had. It’s not an appointment per se, so it’s fine if I go alone. He’s probably just going to ask if I have any allergies or have used any sleep medications before and prescribe something.”

  “Well, treatment or not, the point was you’re not supposed to be going anywhere alone since there is a madman on the loose stalking you,” Michael said.

  “First, I don’t think he’s a madman and second, I doubt I will get accosted at the therapist’s office. Even if I do, there’s plenty of people there to handle him or call the police.”

  “Yeah, but not at the pharmacy,” Damien pointed out.

  “I won’t go to the pharmacy, I’ll come straight home right after and send one of you if he prescribes something.”

  Michael grabbed his phone. “I’ll see if I can change my meeting.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. I will be fine. I’m not a child, you can’t be with me twenty-four seven.”

  “Well, I don’t like it but okay, deal, straight there and back,” Michael said.

  “Okay, dad.” Josie teased. Michael sighed but chose not to pursue it further. Josie’s plan worked, for better or worse. She was free to meet with the stranger or whoever else she chose.

  Josie was a bundle of nerves as she went about her morning routine. Her ruse had worked, making it all too possible that this meeting would occur. Although she wondered what she had been thinking when she agreed to the meeting, she was determined to go through with it. She needed to learn if he could help her like he promised. The therapist hadn’t been able to, although she only met with him once. Following that session, though, the visions, as she referred to them, had developed, so she was worse not better.