13 Tales of the Paranormal Page 3

  “What did you say?” Lana snapped at him from out of nowhere.

  Eric was positive that he hadn’t said anything. “I didn’t say a thing,” he answered defensively. Lana’s pale, grey eyes burned a hole into Eric. He shrugged “I really didn’t say a thing.”

  “Well, I heard something.”

  “Like a person or an animal?” Eric questioned.

  “A person," she hissed. “I am not so stupid that I would mistake an animal noise for a human!”

  “No need to snap my head off, I was just asking.”

  “Shhh!” Lana said, "Didn't you just hear that?”

  Eric nodded; he had heard it. Something was behind them, speaking to them. Eric felt his blood turn to ice.

  “Hello, who is out there?” He yelled into the trees, waiting for a response. Nothing came back. Lana looked at him; her eyes wide with fear. Eric raised the gun out of the bag.

  “If someone can hear us, come out and show yourself?” Eric said again. Waiting, he heard only a whisper among the trees. He raised the gun instinctively, a large bang echoing out through the woods. Lana slumped against a tree, her head in her hands. The gun dropped from Eric’s shaking hands.

  “Lana!” he yelled, rushing over to her side. “I didn’t mean to do that. Are you alright?” he asked. Lana raised her head a little, tears flowing freely as her body trembled. Eric reached out to touch her, but she cringed away. His hand snapped back. “I really am sorry,” he repeated.

  Another loud bang echoed through the woods deafening them both. Lana looked up at Eric, taking in the way his mouth was slightly open, as if he were about to say something. Lana looked down at his chest; there wasn’t much to be seen. A gaping hole had ripped through him, exposing his insides and spraying the ground with bits and pieces of him. Lana looked back at his face; Eric blinked, his eyes connecting with hers moments before he fell back.

  Lana screamed. The sound echoed throughout the area and rung in her ears. Desperately, Lana scurried over and tried to hold his chest together to stop the blood that was poured out to pool on the soft ground. Deep down she knew he was dead; no one could survive that. Blood covered her hands and her clothing. She didn’t care. Her arms wrapped around Eric’s body, cradling him close to her chest.

  “Poor, little Lana, Lost her friend, Now she is all alone, Let the games begin,” A rich male voice sang out from the darkness. Lana looked up, her face stained with tears. Nothing was there; she looked back down at Eric, wondering how she would be able to carry his body back to the truck.

  “Run Lana, it will be more fun if you run,” The voice sang again, this time laughing at the end. “I have the gun,” he went on.

  “Show yourself!” Lana yelled into the night. “If you want me dead, well here I am, you sick bastard!”

  “Such profanity isn’t nice to hear from such a pretty girl.” A man walked out from behind a tree. He was tall and lanky with dark, black hair and was wearing black, leather pants. Lana shuddered; this man reminded her of the one they had hit with the truck earlier.

  “Fuck you!” She sobbed as the man moved closer to her. Barely a few feet away, the gun pointed at her.

  “Well, if you insist,” he said with a grin. “I think we could arrange to do that before we kill you.”

  Lana trembled; she had no weapon to defend herself with and now the sicko was tormenting her. He moved closer still, his hands grabbing her by the hair and ripping her away from Eric’s body. She screamed, not on purpose. The man laughed as she kicked her legs out at him, her hands clawing away at his arms in a vain attempt to save herself.

  “You’re a feisty one.” He grinned. “You will be fun.”

  “Just get it over with and kill me,” Lana whispered, tired from fighting, walking and everything else. She was ready, if he wanted her dead she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t let him win. His free hand ran down the side of her neck. So delicate was his touch that Lana barely felt it.

  “You are really ready to give up so easily?” He asked, no joking tone, just serious and thoughtful. Lana nodded, she didn’t know if she was really ready or not, but what other choice did she have.

  “You would just lie down and die without a fight?” he questioned unhappily, his free hand sitting at the base of his throat gently stroking her collar bone with his thumb.

  “If it would mean that you don’t get the pleasure of hunting me, then yes, I would prefer to lie down and die.” Her voice was steady surprising them both. The corner of his mouth turned upwards as he suppressed another smile. His hand wrapped itself around her throat squeezing it lightly.

  “Are you sure that you are so willing to die without a fight?” he asked, bringing his head closer, his breath hitting the skin of her neck, sending a shiver of terror through her.

  “Oh God, and she thought I was dramatic? J, stop playing with her, and just kill her already, I need to feed, considering you shot me!” Eric’s voice broke the tension held between Lana and the man. They both turned, looking at Eric, who was sitting. The hole in his chest slowly disappeared before their eyes.

  “Eric!” she yelled. Was she going crazy? “You are dead… Shot… dead,” she stuttered helplessly.

  “Oh, honey, I was dead before J shot me.” He laughed. “Now it is your turn to die, but don’t worry, once you come back you will be better and stronger than any other.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are things you need to know and things you don’t, sweetie. Right now it is time to feed; so be a good girl and shut up,” Eric said walking over to them. The man called J had been silent, just watching with mild amusement.

  Eric grabbed her arm, looking at J before sinking his teeth into her skin. Intense pain roared through Lana’s body, causing her to cry out. Eric raised his lips that were now stained bright crimson and laughed. J let Lana fall to the ground, his thumb running over the bottom lip of Eric’s before kissing him. It was one of those kisses which shouldn’t be shared in public; it was deep and full of lust. Lana stared up at them, her wrist still bleeding.

  “Eric what have you done?” She sobbed, her body aching all over.

  “Oh, sweetie,” J leaned down and licked the blood from her wrist, "you are going to die, and that is just a fact. Nothing personal, but since I do like you, like Eric, I will offer you a chance to live again.” J’s hand cupped the side of her face, his voice but a whisper inside her mind. Lana was scared. No, more than that, she was terrified. She didn’t want to be like them, whatever they were.

  “We should just kill her like we planned; you wanted me to bring one with unbending morals, and we need to find a sacrifice or we will suffer. That is what you said. She is perfect for this, isn’t she? I tried everything to make her leave, but she just insisted that we try and find you, to make sure you weren’t hurt.” Eric whined so casually about Lana’s impending death.

  “You’re right,” J said. "Get the stuff together and we shall begin.”

  He looked down at Lana and shook his head, “Such a waste.”

  “Please,” she begged, unable to move very far. Eric began laying out the items: one large combat knife, salt, and a large, red, leather-bound book. J grabbed the salt and began to draw something in the ground; it was a series of shapes and symbols. Standing in the middle he chanted, the words making no sense to Lana. Eric walked over to where she lay and sat down beside her.

  “This is really a great honor; you should feel very lucky.”

  “You are about to kill me, how does that make me lucky?” Lana asked, drawing on all of her energy to spit out the words at her former friend.

  “Because tonight you are fulfilling two duties; one, you are going to make one gorgeous sacrifice, and two, once people know we are missing and see the truck and our blood plus pieces of you, then they will assume we are both dead. And then, I won’t have to deal with my family.”

  Lana wanted to laugh. It wasn’t funny, not really, but the thought of her murderer afraid of his father was funny. The tem
perature within her body began to rise; infection must have been setting in. How long did it take to get an infection from such a bite? Lana didn’t know, but right now her insides felt as if they were on fire.

  “Eric, I need water!” she cried out, her body shaking with the inferno. It looked as if she was convulsing. Eric placed the water bottle to her lips so she could drink. The fire within didn’t die down, instead it increased. Eric shot J a fearful look as he watched Lana.

  “J, you better get over here.”

  “The gates of hell are open; I cannot leave the circle.” J looked at the girl as she lay there convulsing, panic spread over him. “Bring her to the circle and we will begin.”

  Eric struggled to pick her up as she flipped around in his arms. Finally, she was at the circle’s edge, J’s arms taking over for Eric’s. He laid her gently down onto the ground and started the chant. Her body stopped moving, her eyes opening so that they stared at him. For a brief second, he questioned whether being a devil’s disciple was worth the living forever. It was only a brief second though; he began to cut the symbol into the flesh of her stomach.

  Lana screamed as the knife cut into the surface of her skin, it wouldn’t kill her, but god it hurt. J’s dark eyes flashed the tiniest hint of remorse, but soon it was replaced with concentration. Lana felt the strangest urge to kiss him. She didn’t know why, but all the pain stopped; her arms reached out to J, wrapping around his neck and drawing him closer. Her lips pressed hard against his, her tongue forceful as it entered his mouth. Heat passed between them, so intense that they tried to part, but something held them together. Words forced themselves into her mind; she knew what she must do to live.

  Lana pulled away from J, knife in hand and walked towards a bewildered Eric. She had broken the circle and nothing had harmed her, she was untouchable now.

  “Stand,” she ordered Eric; at once he was on his feet. Her mouth closed onto his, and she kissed him. Heat did not pass between them like with J. Instead she felt his protect drain from within his body. No longer was he safe from that which should naturally kill him. Pulling away from him, Lana laughed; the prey became the predator… how ironic. The knife plunged deeply into Eric’s neck, almost severing it completely. He dropped to the ground as Lana pulled out the knife; there was no coming back for him this time.

  J was about to step out of the circle when she turned “If you do that, you will bring the torments of Hell upon you! Stay there like a good boy, for you are now my slave,” she said, full of energy.

  “How can that be?” J asked, his voice quivering at the end.

  “Fool boy! I am chosen; you have marked me the Devil’s concubine, and now only He can destroy me!” She laughed. J’s dark eyes widened, he looked as if he might cry, and that pleased Lana. “I’ll come for you when I find a need of you.” She was going to have fun now, with no one to stop her and nothing that could kill her. She left J standing in the prison of the circle as she stepped to the edge of darkness.

  “Wait!” J cried. “How long ‘till you return… I will get hungry,” he whimpered.

  She curled her evil lip, “You’re the one that wanted to live forever… now you’ll know how long that is.” Lana vanished into the forest like a ghost.

  The forest was still, no birds sang, no breeze rustled the trees. The sinking gravity of his fate, settled into J’s mind. As he took a step, to give in to the misery that awaited him, he heard Lana’s voice. It floated to him like a whisper in the trees, “Are you ready to give up so easily?”

  He didn’t answer. But the departing laugh of Lana diminished to a hush, leaving J alone for all time.

  The Door

  Theresa Oliver

  The Door

  Theresa Oliver

  Lugging the heavy bucket of water down the hall, Madison prepared to give the spare room a good scrub-down in preparation for the baby. Water sloshed over the brim, drenching her jeans, spilling onto the floor as she set the bucket down.

  “Great,” she said aloud, debating whether or not to postpone the task at hand.

  She and her husband, Bill, had bought the old Victorian home just two months before. It was in remarkably good condition, despite its obvious age. The turrets and old stone walls were aging, but had been well cared for over the years, which helped to preserve the grand structure.

  The old house was a bit big for just her and Bill with its eight bedrooms and three stories, but with the baby on the way, Madison just couldn’t resist, having flashes of producing a quaint bed and breakfast one day. They had been living in the house for a few weeks, when a door Madison hadn’t noticed before seemed suddenly to appear in the hallway. But Madison brushed the thought quickly aside, thinking she must have overlooked it when viewing the spacious home.

  Madison placed her hand gingerly on the cold steel of the round knob and paused, for she had not yet ventured beyond its door. A fine patina graced the steel, adding to the mystique. For a moment, Madison thought she might polish it, making it like new again, but she knew she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She just loved antiques.

  Slowly, she twisted the knob and pushed. It opened easily, as light spilled into the hallway, illuminating the water beaded upon the hardwood floor. The door creaked loudly as she pushed it open wide, and stepped into the room.

  The room was of moderate size with dark hardwood floors like in the rest of the house. Facing the front of the house were two broad windows, bright and cheery as the sunlight streamed into the room. This will be perfect for the baby’s nursery, Madison thought, smiling to herself. The room was right down the hall from the master, within hearing distance. Madison smiled to herself as she vowed to make this room sparkle before the baby came.

  She still had time.

  Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dark flash. “Who’s there?” she called out. She was alone in the house, as Bill was at the firm and would be working late, as usual. He seemed to be working late a lot lately. She hoped it wasn’t because of the cost and upkeep of this old house. But when she saw the quaint Victorian house, she just had to have it, and Bill, of course, gave her whatever she wanted.

  She saw the flash from the corner of her eye again.

  “Anyone there?” she repeated, yelling throughout the house, then waited.

  Nothing.

  She quickly brushed the thought aside, then lugged the heavy bucket into the room as water sloshed over the brim again, having filled the bucket too full. Oh well, she thought, the floor’s going to get wet anyway.

  Bending down onto her hands and knees, she reached into the soapy water and retrieved a scrub brush. Even though it was an outdated idea, Madison thought the hardwood floors would shine if she gave them on old-fashioned scrubbing. After a few pain-staking hours, her efforts were reward when beautiful, cherry floors were revealed beneath.

  The sun began to fade, casting shadows across the stone walls of the room, Madison was proud of herself. For after hours of hard work, the room was finally taking shape. Bending down with a rag in hand, she caught a glimpse of a dark shadow in her peripheral vision to the right. And for a split second, it appeared to be a tall, muscular man.

  “Who’s there?” she called out into the house, turning with a jerk, but the figure had already vanished. Great, now my mind’s playing tricks on me, Madison thought. She looked out the window in time to see the last of a beautiful sunset. Time to quit.

  Madison carried the bucket of dirty water down the stairs to the kitchen and poured it into the sink, then placed the bucket carefully into the pantry. Feeling the effects of the day, every muscle in her body seemed to ache. She felt so very tired, probably more so since she was pregnant. I’ll just lay down for a bit, Madison thought as she grabbed a couch pillow and propped it on the armrest. The cushions wrapped around her like a warm blanket. As her eyelids began to close, she thought happy thoughts of what the nursery would look like. Instinctively, she wrapped a protective arm around her belly, cradling her baby.

 
While she slept, she felt a gentle caress; a man’s hand ran softly across her cheek. “Bill?” she asked groggily, but couldn’t seem to wake, so she rolled toward the couch, falling into a deep slumber, dreaming of the nursery.

  In her sleep, she could have sworn she heard an unfamiliar voice say, “You’ll do just fine.” Then a hand gently brushed across her cheek once more.

  Madison woke with a start, sitting straight up on the couch.

  It was dark, so dark she couldn’t even make out figures or shadows within the room. “Bill? Is that you?” she called out into the darkness, but no one answered. She’d been sleeping later than she thought. She groped the stone wall, feeling her way around the corner, when a strange glow came from the kitchen. Maybe Bill was home after all and was looking through the refrigerator. “Bill?” she called out, but was greeted by a deafening silence.

  Shrugging it off, she went around the corner and caught the glimpse of a figure of a man. He was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and tight pants, indicative of another time, another place. His hair was golden, falling to very muscular shoulders. Madison caught her breath, and her eyes grew wide as she stepped back. The figure looked up at her, then turned and quickly walked through the wall.

  “Wait!” Madison called after him, then realized what she had just witnessed. She had always been intrigued with ghosts, but to see one in real life was another story. Now I know why we got this old place for a song, Madison thought, realizing it was haunted. But the thought of ghosts never scared her. It’ll take a lot more than a ghost to scare me out of here.

  She opened the refrigerator door as a bright, white light spilled into the room. She poured herself a glass of sweet tea, then made her way back into the living room. Finding a lamp sitting on the table, she turned the switch and light quickly flooded the room. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Madison, you’re losing it, she thought to herself, laughing, as she made her way down the long hallway toward the bedroom she shared with Bill, that is, when he was home.