The Awakener

by Amanda Strong

  Eden assumed she’d have good dreams; she had been asked on her first date today, after all, but she was wrong. A dam of nightmares had broken, leaving her tossing and turning. She dreamt of someone in her room, hiding in the dark corner, waiting… watching.

  It was so vivid and real, that when the furnace clicked on, she bolted upright in bed, panting and covered in sweat. She took a deep breath and scanned her surroundings. Everything seemed normal. Still, the lingering dream made her uneasy. She reached for her glasses on the nightstand, but knocked them to the floor instead.

  “Crap,” she muttered, not wanting to get out of her warm bed to retrieve them. Why is it so cold in here? she wondered. I can hear the heater blowing.

  She sat back and pulled her blankets higher, trying to settle her nerves. She heard a few creaks, and the scratching of branches hitting her window.

  Those are familiar sounds, she told herself. Nothing to be jumpy about.

  Something felt off.

  She figured it was just being in that half-asleep, half-awake state, where senses are in overdrive. She strained to see better, still not wanting to uncover herself to retrieve her glasses.

  Why’s it reek in here? I’m going to kill Brendon, leaving another rotten sandwich in my room. But it smells like eggs. He hates eggs…

  The sulfur-like smell grew stronger. Tugging her blanket over her nose, she felt something bump her bed. She froze.

  Straining to hear anything in the profound silence, she was completely paralyzed by fear, seeing only smeary, black shadows. Don’t panic; don’t panic.

  Her bed rocked as something pushed on her mattress from below. She screamed hysterically but, to her horror, no one came bursting through her door.

  Is Brendon playing some kind of sick practical joke?

  Gritting her teeth, she threw the covers aside, forcing her legs off the side of the bed, determined to jump down.

  An icy breath hissed on her bare skin from below.

  Shrieking, she pulled her legs in, burying herself in the blankets. Someone was in her room, under her bed, and just like her dream, that person was going to hurt her. She bit her quilt as tears splattered down on her arms.

  It was silent.

  This doesn’t make any sense. Am I still dreaming? This is just a nightmare. I’m just imagining things, she consoled herself. It’s cold in my room; the mattress’s springs are probably popping… She stopped short.

  Something dragged across her carpet, at the same time her bed shook. A low, unmistakable growl came from underneath her, a wet, gurgling sound. She screeched so hard her throat felt raw.

  A black silhouette rose beside her bed.

  Horrified, she launched herself back, smacking the headboard. The shadow grew until it hovered over her, rattling and sucking with each inhale, and spewing white, cold smoke with its exhales.

  She wailed, though she knew it was useless. No one’s coming; I’m going to die!

  The black thing leaned over the bed. Its dank breath only inches from her face.

  She scrambled back and, not caring where she was going, fell off the side, landing backwards with a thud.

  It crawled onto her bed and was instantly above her, glaring over the side, panting. Trying to crawl back and regain her footing, she scraped her back on the dresser behind her. Sandwiched between the bed and the dresser, she gasped. I’m trapped!

  She threw her hands out, hitting cold, damp flesh. She thrashed against its slippery hide, as its red, beady eyes bore down on her. Her attacks were futile. Something wet landed on her cheek; it slid down her skin like slime. Convulsions rocked her body as it drooled on her.

  Frantically, she scoured the floor for anything to fight with, coming up with nothing. Hopelessness engulfed her.

  The red, menacing eyes drew closer. Then she saw nothing but a blinding, white light. Squinting, she tried to make sense of the dancing, swirling light. Hit by a wave of heat, she realized it was fire blazing across her room like a fire dancer.

  The black shadow shrieked and recoiled off the bed. Crippled by terror, she watched the fire chase the creature. There were scuffling sounds, and then a high-pitched screeching.

  Overcome with curiosity, she climbed to the side of the bed and peeked over. The black shadow was gone. The fire was no longer moving, and she saw it was held like a weapon. Dancing in the dark, the flames lit up the holder.

  Looks like a man. He stooped down, grabbing something, and then moved toward her.

  She dropped back against the dresser, pulling her knees in, begging, “Please don’t hurt me!”

  The man paused and then held something out to her. She flinched away, until she saw it was her glasses. Tentatively, she snatched them from his outstretched hand. Slipping them on, she gaped up at him, relieved to see he was human, not a monster.

  Blond, wavy hair reached just past his ears, with dark blond stubble covering his chin and jaw. Startling blue eyes gazed back at her, his features the perfect mixture of ruggedness and soft angles. A black shirt stretched over his muscular build. He seems normal, except for the fact he carries a sword of fire. And he appeared out of nowhere…

  He finished scanning the room, and then locked eyes on her. “Are you hurt?”

  She was surprised his voice sounded so real, with even a hint of an accent, which she couldn’t place.

  “No.” She continued to hug her knees.

  His eyes studied her. He appeared to be debating something in his mind; his eyebrows furrowed and then relaxed.

  Extending a hand to her, he said, “Come on.”

  She slowly placed her hand in his and he pulled her up effortlessly. His hand’s tangible, not a ghost. He released her hand.

  “Who are you?” she asked again, when he pointed to her bed.

  When he didn’t answer, she didn’t move.

  The man sighed heavily and sheathed his fiery weapon. Instantly, smoke curled around his legs. The room remained bright, even without the fire. The light seemed to be coming from the man himself.

  “Climb back in bed,” he instructed. “You’re safe now.”

  Not taking her eyes off him, she reluctantly obeyed. Coming around her bed, she stopped at the pile of ash on the floor.

  Is that all that’s left of that thing? she wondered, as the man bent over, scooped it up into a small container, and tucked it into one of the pouches hanging from his belt. Hoping that meant the creature was finally gone, she clambered back into bed.

  She stared at the man—the whiteness of his skin and the perfection in his features reminded her of someone else who suddenly appeared. “Are you like the woman I saw at Micah’s?”

  He didn’t respond, his eyes again scouring the room.

  “Look, a monster just crawled out from under my bed, and you appeared out of thin air with a fire sword. I know you can talk. Please, I need some answers.” Her last words came out in a whisper.

  The man seemed to consider her and then sat at the bottom of the bed.

  “I’m not supposed to stay and talk. But that thing was not supposed to be in here either, so I suppose it’s a night for exceptions. I’m your guardian.”

  “Like a guardian angel?”

  “Yeah, I protect you from demons.”

  “That was a demon?” She tried not to hyperventilate.

  “You’re safe now. It won’t happen again.” His jaw muscles tightened. “I was called to a council. That won’t happen again either,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

  “What council? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll send someone to take notes for me next time.”

  Sensing his brooding mood, she changed the subject. “The woman I saw, is she Micah’s guardian angel?”

  “Yeah,” he hesitated, “Eden, I can’t stay, but you need to know I’m still here, even when you can’t see me.” His tone softened as he continued, “I’ll protect you.”

  She knew his words should make her feel
safe, but when he stood up, she panicked, “Wait! Don’t go! Please don’t leave!”

  “I’m not leaving. You just won’t be able to see me,” he explained again.

  “Even if that’s true, I want to see you. Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

  He grunted, and then sat back down. She supposed it should’ve been an awkward moment, both of them looking at each other in silence, but she was too drained to care.

  “How come I’ve never seen you before?” she asked.

  “I’m not supposed to be seen by you. It could,” he paused, “mess things up.”

  She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she somehow knew he wouldn’t answer.

  She rubbed her arms. “That demon would’ve hurt me?”

  His eyes clouded as he gave one curt nod.

  She shivered, pondering the fact that demons were real. Continuing on that line of logic, she concluded something else as well.

  She sat up. “So if there are demons and angels, there’s a God too, right?”

  The man smiled. “Remember that, Eden. That’s important.”

  She supposed it was his way of saying yes, and as she thought this, she felt something warm spread over her. A sweet peace settled in her chest, and the fear dissipated. She lay back down in her bed, feeling very tired.

  “Are you doing that?” she asked. It felt almost like a drug, a pleasant numbness spreading over her entire body.

  “Mm?” he hummed, his gaze intense.

  “I feel totally… relaxed. You’re the one I’ve been feeling at night. You’ve been helping me sleep, haven’t you?”

  “Glad to see my comforting abilities are working. I’m pretty lousy at it usually.”

  She was curious as to what he meant, but instead said, “Thanks.”

  He nodded.

  Her eyelids drooped. She slurred her words, “Wait, if I’m in danger—how do I call you?”

  “I’ll know you’re in trouble before you do. Now go to sleep.”

  Her body obeyed, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.