I awoke to darkness.
A deep timbre rose from the black. “What’s your name,” it said.
Without question, I answered, “Anna.”
Its hands—his hands slid across my buttocks, sending a tingle racing up my spine—a chill in its wake. Nails dragged up my back, scratched a swarm of cuts through my flesh. The fresh blood raced down and smothered the cold below with carnal warmth.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“Home, my dearest.”
“Home? I’m sorry, I’m confused. Why can’t I see you?”
I felt my hand clutched. My arm pulled and disappeared into a velvety mist.
“It will come. Like your wits. You’ll remember.
“My husband, children, where are they? They’ll be looking for me.”
“The other place.” The darkness laughed. “You’ll remember.”
He pulled me, and off I walked bound in black—midnight with a starless sky above. Excitement and unease filled my stomach, but I trudged along. I didn’t have a choice. I was here. Where else could I go?
“Ah, Mister, where we going?”
Before he answered, flickering lights pierced the blackness in the distance.
“I told you, you’re home.”
“Well, I guess Erik didn’t pay the electric bill again.” I laughed. A nervous laugh, but at least it broke the tension of the unknown.
All of a sudden, those small, what I thought were candles burst into monstrous flames. Finally, I thought. I get to see my tour guide. I grabbed his wrist, dug my heels in, stopped, and yanked him toward me and yelled, “Who are you?”
As his face fell against mine, I gasped. White eyes with vertical emerald slits to see me, like a snake. Two holes for a nose, and no lips—only blood-laced fangs for teeth.
Like a shot in the dark, a metallic taste and sulfur tang assaulted the roof of my mouth. A virile hint for a split second—a waking nudge. “Cimmerian! Brother, is it truly you?”
“My dear sister, we were wondering what was taking so long.”
A smile raced across my face. “I…I made love to him. I gave them life. Sometimes you get lost in the game, you know.
Their faces, last I saw, came rushing back to me. Erik bound to the bed. “Oh,” I laughed. I made him watch. Ellie and Harrison, how they struggled, tied to the posts, plastic bags fogging-up over their heads. It took me long enough. Doesn’t matter anymore. I’m home, sweet Hell, where I was born, where I belong.
By trade, Steven Joseph Marek is a CPA. By passion, he writes for release and entertainment. Steven has three short stories in separate anthologies, published through the Woodlands Writing Guild. His inspirations are found in everything that surrounds him, as long as the music is playing.
You may find more information about Steven at http://www.stevenjmarek.com
Ahh, you had me from the get-go! I wanted to know what awfulness had ahold of her. You had convinced me she hated her fate, what a great twist to your story!
ReplyDeleteYour stories have action right from the beginning and always have a surprise ending. Love them!
ReplyDelete