Samantha stood across from herself in the mirror, analyzing herself intently. She manipulated her hair as if it would last through a minute of natural motions. The vibration in her pocket stirred her from her trance. With one more quick glance over her reflection she pulled her iPhone of her pocket. Well aware that's she's running late, she quickly returned it and made the final adjustment to her tight black v-neck. Grabbing her backpack she headed out the front door. Twelve minutes later it was Eight p.m as she arrived at her friend's house. Her friend Hannah sat in her kitchen waiting eagerly and walked outside when she saw Samantha pull up to her house. She galloped down her three porch steps and unlocked her Volkswagen Golf. Samantha met her inside the car, calling shotgun as she sat down. Being the only passenger in the car, she smirked and looked left at Hannah. "Ooh bitch" she exclaimed sarcastically. Laughing, Hannah only returned a shrill "whoo"! of her own and They both bounced in their seats as the car accelerated.
Life was abundant in the bright city district. A constant flow of headlights streamed through the street in front of a high class loft apartment building. The gusts of wind that followed each vehicle crashed like waves against Jessica's’ exposed legs. They were barely covered by her short black dress, which was more than appropriate 20 minutes ago. Outside the cold November night was almost 50 degrees colder than the loft she recently left. She stood in front of the building shivering and turning her head to the right and then to the left. Still her friends have yet to pick her up.
A rattling travelled in the air as a brown sedan made its way along East Oak Ave. Christmas lights were illuminated on large modern houses. The colorful dots spattered across the beige stucco walls. It was such a beautiful suburban area that surrounded the small city. It transitioned from city, to suburb, to open wood seamlessly within 8 miles. A friendly active city a few turns away from silent roads that take you deep into the woods. The sedan turned right and headed away from the city. Strawbridge lake sat in an open field that wrapped around the street and there was one lonely bench that sat at the head of it. The sedan continued for almost an hour then parked.
Now, across the street from the Loft building, sitting in a parking spot furthest to the right of three street lights was the 1998 tan Toyota. Inside sits Edward still, his face lifeless in the gritty yellow contrast of the dull light. Mostly consumed by the darkness, he sat quietly and perfectly still as his eyes rested on Jessica. He had been following her every day for two months and tonight he was going to kill her.
Samantha and Hannah parked three blocks down from the Loft apartments. They went over their inventory for the party and gossiped as they walked down the cold city street. Twenty or so feet from the lobby Hannah and Samantha noticed the little blonde girl in the short dress, visibly shaking. “Hey, uh-are you okay”? Hannah asked with a audible sincerity. After noticing them, she spoke through her chattering teeth “Ya-ya-yeah, my friends are running a little late”. Samantha re-adjusted her bag, “Well…we're going to a party on the 8th floor if…” she invited Jessica effectively without finishing her sentence. Hannah looked right at Samantha and then back at there new friend.
Edward remained motionless after witnessing what just occurred, he only let out a slightly more audible breath. He was now mentally debating whether or not to take this as a challenge. Still anxiety got the best of him. After months of strategic planning his plan had been temporarily tarnished by a strangers gesture of kindness. Since he began killing he wondered if there would be a time where he could feel more like a hunter of animals and much less the feeling of paranoia. Infuriated now that such an anomaly had occurred whilst he was as ready as he could be through the reasonable anxiety of his plans. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled from the bottom as if trying to upturn it. His jaw was locked, his expression forged by a deep deprivation of genuine joy. His face stretched to its limits, his jaw hinged fully open, yet he emitted no sound. A silent scream of great torment, and although still arguably young at 46 years old, mentally he felt he was ready for his moment. The Hatred and depression then filled his tired mind with spontaneous unanalyzed thoughts.
The black Volkswagen arrived at Samantha's house at 1:49 A.M. An intoxicated Samantha emerged from the passenger side and slightly stumbled as she shut the door. She thanked Hannah for the ride and made another sarcastic exclamation about the night. She slapped the back of the car twice as it pulled away from her house. As the sound from the car grew further away, Samantha walked to her door while slowly revolving to admire her surroundings. The dark sky was vast and scattered with many luminous stars, she admired it as she does every night. Approaching her porch, she pulled her keys out of her bag and fumbled them for quite too long trying to insert the correct key. Wind whistled behind her as she turned the key and entered her house. She turned inside and shut it behind her, locked it and walked left down the hall into the kitchen. She flipped on the two light switches for the kitchen and turned towards the fridge. Through the mental playback of the night in her head, she passes many foggy instances of bliss. As she starts from the inception of arriving at the party she moves forward in time, as in her mind a digital 0 climbs slowly. She flies through these memories until she reaches real time. She was accusing her memory in order to estimate her total water consumption in the past hours. Her digital 0 has climbed to a 6. A total of 6 ounces. This process occurs while she reaches for the refrigerator door and pulls it open.
About half of the water remained in the gallon; Samantha took it from the top shelf. Holding it in her right hand, she opened the left half of the appliance for ice. As she leaned into the freezer and palmed several ice cubes, a sound in the distance made her shudder. Gripping the ice cubes, she sprung backwards from the freezer. The silence of her empty home was unnerving to a sober over thinker, but after two thirds of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire she extends her left leg and guides the freezer door shut. Then one less red solo cup remained on the stack as Samantha drank generously from it on her way back to the hallway. She danced her way towards the staircase, still smiling from ear to ear. There was 10 feet between her and the staircase, but she didn't make it that far before feeling like something was wrong. Her body froze over. Time became insignificant. In this moment she was paralyzed, the air grew thin and the silence was deafening. The foyer of the home seemed a worlds size as she stood staring into the darkness ahead. The living room was just past the staircase and was empty and dark as always. Samantha stood still for 60 seconds, still time yet to return to significance. Something about the air was different, it didn't feel as empty as usual. Something lingered in the silence. Something felt terribly wrong, Samantha now focused on the darkness. Intently she stared into the void. A layer of the darkness then shifted forward, Samantha quivered. A figure slowly shifted and rose from the depths of the dark room.
A person had been sitting on the couch, watching her from the shadows, he was now coming towards her. Samantha was numb, her stomach wrenched with vigor. Though without hesitation, she leaped towards the staircase. Her adrenaline was redlining. Her terror could never be replicated, her left hand met the railing as her foot planted on the first step. Her right foot followed. Instantly her lead foot slipped off the step. The momentum she put into escaping had only worked against her, her right foot slipped upon contact with the steps as well. Her shins and knees smashed into the wooden stairs as hard as possible. The pain was overwhelming, a sharp ringing began in her head. Through her confusion, she slowly raised her head towards the staircase, which she now knelt in front of. The stairs glistened in the darkness, they had been treated with a layer of oil. The ringing in her ears grew, it was now the soundtrack for these moments of terror. She turned her head to the right and watched the figure slowly walk towards her.
Cold and injured, her face began to warp with anguish. The figure moved at a haunting pace. His overly casual pace was ominous, however she wouldn't prefer the contrary. She used all her effort to extend her throbbing legs, and she reached her left hand towards the banister once more. Slowly, she began crawling up the stairs. Her movements were unsteady, her legs trembling. The high pitch frequency in her head continued to grow. It seemed to oscillate inside her head at a steady pace, metaphorically repeating a fast paced cinematic note, intense enough to honor the energy of the event. Time crawled as did Samantha. She was breathing heavily, exhausting herself. She felt nothing. In her legs was a warm pulsing numbness.
The staircase held eight stairs before it reached a turning point. Two larger square steps then redirected the staircase to the left. Her actions started to exist in slow motion, left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg. Head cocked slightly to the side, the shadow figure remains still at the bottom of the staircase. Although Samantha isn't moving much faster, she turns her body to the left as the reaches the turning point of the staircase. Immediately her abdomen constricts and freezes her in her current position. She is unable to breathe. No oxygen can be drawn in or dispensed. His head straightens and the man begins to ascend the staircase with the same haunting pace. Breaking free from her metaphoric mold Samantha extends her left arm to grab the railing. Miraculously she is able to raise her knees from the cold wooden stairs. The figure is still ascending. Now working at the same pace, Samantha grabs the railing with her other arm as well. He is growing closer with each second. The pulsing notes return to this moment as Samantha drapes herself over the banister. One moment she is looking left at the man and for the first time is able to see his facial features. The next moment she transfers all her weight into her upper body and flips over the railing landing with a dense thud onto the hardwood floor below.
As she blinks it seems like minutes pass, the pulsing in her body is now paired with long black pauses in her consciousness. Or so it seems. Physically debilitated she now crawls slower than before, although the distance between her and the intruder has grown. She is moving with the most miniscule amount of energy, every movement taxes her body entirely. Resilient however, she continues. Ahead of her now is the dining room, in a few more inches and she will be on the green carpet and therefor only about twelve feet from the back door. She now inches her way along the carpet like a snake, wiggling left and right, her body stuck to the ground. Many attempts to raise her body off of the ground have failed. Until now. Samantha is finally able to raise one of her legs slightly. Then one of her arms. Then both! There is still no feeling in her body, she hears no sound. The pulsing waves of heat have left her, now it is just silence. She exist only as a perspective, completely untethered to her sense of physicality. She only observes what is directly ahead, nothing else is rendered whatsoever. On both knees she is able to unlock the back door but is barely able to turn the knob and guide the heavy door open, however she completes the task.
The cold december air rushes into the home. Still, she feels nothing. Her world remains silent. The only thing that she can understand now is that she is free from the walls in which her terror exist. With the door completely open she raises herself to her feet, it is truly miraculous. Her pace grows as does the small fragment of hope that failed to exist moments ago. Before she knows it she is walking at a good pace, limping however. The moment she is able to generate enough force to begin running from the home, her senses begin to return. Very gradually of course, her body begins to accept the feeling of wind on her face. Still in silence, she is now running through the grass, her hair flowing behind her. Finally, she turns to look behind her.
Submitted March 15, 2017 at 06:02AM by ShollyD http://ift.tt/2mLgvCK libraryofshadows
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