Darkness Becoming: Chapter 3

“Des, please, you really need to rest,” Mara begged, as she brought in a tray with three steaming mugs. She gave one to Des, who was pacing the small living room of her apartment. “I know it’s been an awful night, but you won’t do Chase any good if you run yourself ragged.” 

Des took the cup from Mara. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was damp from her recent shower and she had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. She had scrubbed herself clean, watching the blood flow down the shower drain. I’m washing him away and now he’s all gone, she had thought.

Mara handed Garrett his own mug, then placed herself on the love seat beside him. She snuggled into his large frame, as close as she possibly could, for comfort. Des could no longer pace with the cup of hot tea in her hands, resigned herself to sitting on the sofa across from the couple. A framed picture of Chase and herself, snuggled together, much like Mara and Garrett were, sat on an end table. It caught her eye, sending a shard of pain through her heart. She quickly dropped her eyes and studied the contents of her cup instead.

“I don’t understand what that was,” Mara mused. “What was that in the alley? What did it do to Chase?”

“It was probably some strung out junkie that mugged him,” Garrett said confidently. “Knowing Chase, he resisted giving him his wallet and he stabbed him."

Those weren’t stab wounds on his neck, Des thought to herself. At least if they were, it wasn’t done with a knife. Two puncture wounds, spaced at either end of a crescent shaped indentation. It was almost like a "

“But that face, you should have seen that face,” Mara persisted. “It was so... unnatural.”

It wasn’t a mugging by some strung out crack head. It was something awful and terrible. The stuff nightmares are made out of. Des shook her head to clear the thoughts.

“Yeah, think about it, Mar. A drug addict is going to be pale and thin, sunken looking, just like you guys described. It was dark and raining, so everything’s distorted. Not to mention you were panicking. Panic plays tricks on the mind, you know.”

“It was just so horrible. Why would he have taken him? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe he didn’t have time to get his wallet before the two of you interrupted him. So when you ran to get help, he knocked Des out so he could get it.”

“But if Des was unconscious, why wouldn’t he just take the wallet and go? Why would he take Chase too?” Mara persisted, playing devil’s advocate.

“Maybe there wasn’t time, so he just dragged him off to a more secure location to go through his pockets thoroughly,” Garrett speculated. “Chase was well-dressed, so maybe the guy thought he could get more valuable stuff off of him.”

Chase’s body, Des thought dully, as she stared into the mug in her hands. You mean, he dragged off Chase’s body. She put the mug down on the coffee table and rubbed her aching head. She had seen how bad off he was. There was no way he would have made it without immediate medical attention. No one could lose that much blood and live.

 

 

 

They needed to get out of warehouse. The ones who were looking for him were dangerously close and he needed more help than she could provide for him there.

They were down the hall from the main part of the warehouse, tucked into a corner of one of the adjoining offices. There were no windows in the room itself, but the door was open and she could see the outside windows from her vantage point. She would know if anyone came around and would have a small head start if they were to come into the warehouse.

She had gone back and fixed the door as best as she could. At least at a cursory glance, it would appear untampered with. The desk Chase had lain on, was shoved underneath the window, so that it wasn’t visible from outside. She had found an unwanted, worn feather duster, left behind in the maintenance closet. She erased their footprints from the dust on the floor and did her best to restore it to its former, forsaken state. Once she had completed her tasks, she returned to her patient and sat down beside him to keep vigil. She strained to listen for any outside sounds. She was weakened herself, but she used her remaining strength to remain diligent.

She looked down at Chase, lying on the threadbare carpet of the old office. He was deathly pale, cold and clammy to the touch. She brushed a lock of his curly, sandy brown hair from his forehead. He stirred, but did not open his eyes. He should have been sleeping soundly. Instead, he was unsettled with the delirium of a flu-riddled victim. She had to get him help, but she could still sense the ones who were looking for him. They were closer than ever.

She looked into the main warehouse and froze. Moving light reflected through the windows. It hadn’t arrived yet, but its source would be there in a matter of seconds. The door knob to the warehouse door rattled. Lights shone inside, sweeping back and forth, through the entire room. She remained motionless, yet poised to take flight. Chase moaned and stirred. She put her hand protectively on his chest, as though it would keep him safe from what was coming. She glanced at him very briefly, then returned her focus to the windows. The lights paused for one awful, terrifying moment, then retracted and disappeared. She relaxed and removed her hand from Chase’s chest. She rested her head against the wall in relief and settled in to wait.

 

Des had sent Mara and Garrett home, despite their insistence that they stay with her for the night. There was nothing more they could do for her and she needed to be alone to sort out her thoughts. Mara had pressed a small pill into her palm before she left - just in case. Despite her reluctance, Des knew sleep would be elusive tonight so she took the pill, anyway. She lay down on the bed, grabbing the pillow beside her that Chase had slept on, trying to inhale as much of him as possible. 

The horrors of the night played over in her head. Oh, god. He’s never coming home. Her mind struggled with the concept, her brain refusing to wrap itself around the comprehension of the words. The tears came and she cried uncontrollably. Chase is dead.

At some point, her exhausted body had tried to give itself over to slumber, but her brain refused to surrender. She spent the remainder of the night, half in and out of sleep, her mind playing a never ending series of hallucinations in her head.

 

 

She was in the alleyway. The Dark Figure was front of her, hovering over the Crumpled Figure. The Dark Figure lifted its hooded head. Mishmash of horror. Pale skin. Sunken cheeks on a bony, disfigured face. Red, glowing eyes. Sharp, pointed teeth. So much blood, gushing everywhere, all over the Crumpled Figure.

She ran towards them. The Crumpled Figure was falling. The Crumpled Figure was alone, lying lifeless in the alleyway. Des screamed for Mara, but the words tumbled soundlessly, out of her mouth. She kneeled beside the Crumpled Figure and turned him over. It was the face of the Dark Figure that stared back at her. The horrific, pale face of the Dark Figure had replaced Chase’s sweet, handsome one.

Des jumped up in horror. Dark Figure Chase’s eyes popped open. Red eyes stared hungrily at her. She backed away. Dark Figure Chase sat up and grabbed her ankle, pulling her towards him.

“I love you, Des,” Dark Figure Chase said, blood spilling from his mouth, creating cascading red rivers down his blue shirt. “Don’t leave me. You promised to stay with me. I need you, Des.”

Dark Figure Chase pulled her to the ground. She fell, landing on her back, knocking the wind out of her. Dark Figure Chase jumped on top of her, holding her down. She struggled to free herself, but he was so unbelievably strong. He opened his mouth to reveal sharp, pointed teeth, then swooped in to bite her neck.

Des awoke to find herself struggling in bed, tied up in a mess of sheets. She frantically freed herself from the tangle and sat up. She was breathing heavily, her heart beating hard and fast. She noted, with relief, that she was in her bed, in her room and she was alone. She took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down and slow her heart rate.

She climbed out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She drank half the glass quickly, without stopping, then rested the cool glass against her chest as she caught her breath again. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Des’s eyes flew open. The glass smashed into pieces in front of her. Cool water splashed over her feet and spread in a wave across the kitchen floor. She had dropped her water glass in shock, at the one, unbelievable word that had flashed through her mind.