ONE

As Beth Warner clutched the handful of sleeping pills in her sweaty palm, images of a peaceful death filled her mind. The idea of just fading away seemed like a good thing. There was no fear, no regret, no pain…

Frowning, she tried to understand what was stopping her, what that nagging voice in the back of her sub-conscious was trying to tell her, but her mind was too foggy to comprehend what was happening to her.

She shook her head, trying to wake herself up. Then her eyes widened in horror as she stared down at the pills in her hand.

What the hell am I doing?

She couldn’t even remember picking up the pills.

Was I trying to overdose in my sleep?

Her laugh caught in her throat as she was overwhelmed by a nagging sense of reality, a sense that this was serious. Why else would she be out of bed in the middle of the night holding enough sleeping pills to down an elephant? She tried to remember picking up the pills, but her mind was too hazy to focus.

Rubbing her eyes with her free hand, she tried to clear the impenetrable fog in her head that was blotting out her rational thoughts. After a few moments, she managed to sum up enough disgust with herself to clench her jaw in anger.

Like hell I’d take the easy way out.

But her newfound strength rapidly deteriorated when she glanced up at her apartment window and saw her reflection in the glass.

A dark cloud of depression hung over her when she noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her face was pale and drawn in the moonlight. She was too skinny beneath the baggy white t-shirt. She smoothed her long dark hair, sighing with defeat because she barely recognized herself anymore.

When did I become so broken?

She stumbled as a spell of dizziness overcame her. Her pulse raced, panic and fear making her cringe.

What’s wrong with me? After all the crap I’ve been through, there’s no way a few nightmares will be the death of me. This isn’t me.

But her new life was hard, and she was finding it difficult to handle the loss of control. Utter hopelessness settled over her, and it was impossible to fight it. She felt weaker right now than ever before. Some part of her wanted to give up, to just lie down and escape the nightmares.

Maybe it’s the pills?

The doctor had prescribed sleeping pills a few days ago when her nightmares had become too much for her to deal with. It had taken her a lot of effort to go to see the doctor in the first place. After several days of sleep deprivation, she’d finally conceded and visited the medical center about it.

She lost her train of thoughts as a flicker of light caught her attention in the glass. Honing in on it, she realized it was the reflection of the gold crucifix around her neck, which was glittering in the dim glow of moonlight.

Her eyes widened when the thin chain draping over the bumps of her collarbone shifted.

Am I hallucinating, or is it moving on its own?

With her heart racing, she watched the chain ripple as if it was floating before it snapped, and the small crucifix slipped off and fell to the floor, the thin golden chain sliding after it.

Okay, that’s it. I’m insane. I must be. It’s the only answer.

Her skin felt as if it was crawling, and her thighs trembled when she knelt down and scooped the crucifix up off the cracked floorboards. She shivered and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the wave of dizziness. There was something wrong with her world, something dark had entered it, and she couldn’t comprehend what was happening to her.

Of all the people who understand darkness, I should!

With trembling fingers, she slipped the cross back onto the chain and wound the chain around her hand before clutching the symbol of her salvation in her palm. Her body wasn’t responding the way it normally did to fear. She felt so weak and not half the fighter she had once been. She stood up, clutching the tiny cross in one hand, and the sleeping pills in the other.

What’s wrong with me?

She stared at her reflection. She felt so lost.

I’ve been through hell and back. Who wouldn’t end up loony tunes after my childhood?

But why now, why were the nightmares happening now?

The memory of her escape from a living hell flashed through her mind. She remembered the stiffness of blood as it dried on her face, the fear twisting in her stomach as she raced through the doors of the old church. She’d been clutching the knife in her hand as if it were her last vestige of hope. She could still see the look of horror in the priest’s face when he saw her. The knife had clattered onto the cold stone floor. “Help me,” her words had echoed through the church before everything went black.

They had helped her. She had been saved. Why were dark thoughts following her around now, nearly two years later?

“Help me,” she whispered into the glass, but this time no one came to her aid.

A fog settled over her mind while she stared out of the window and up at the moon, wondering if the pain would end soon. After all, it was a waste of time fighting for life. In the end, death was inevitable. Why not embrace it sooner rather than later?

A sharp pain stabbed her left hand. She felt disorientated for a second and tried to snap herself out of it.

Slowly opening her hand, she found the tiny cross resting in her palm. She’d been gripping it so tightly that it had sliced through her skin. She frowned at the red indent in her palm and the small dot of blood pooling from the shallow cut.

Ignoring the pain, she closed her fingers around the crucifix and peered up at the window.

Her breath exploded out of her in shock, and her heart jumped in her chest when she noticed a man staring at her through the glass. She stumbled backward while he watched her, an amused smile appearing on his pale face.

He had flaming red hair, the tendrils swirling around his collar like snakes. His skin was unnaturally pale on his angular face, but his eyes were captivating as they glowed with a silver light.

Watching him for a moment eased her panic. She should have been screaming in horror, but she wasn’t. She frowned, trying to look away from him, but she couldn’t.

He held her gaze and beckoned her with a wave of his spindly finger.

She tentatively placed one bare foot in front of another, walking toward him. Even though her thoughts were in a state of confusion, her body had a mind of its own. She stopped close to the glass with only the thin barrier between her and the red-haired man.

He reached out and traced her jaw on the other side, his fingernail scratching against the pane.

She trembled at the hint of a touch, inclining her head to the side for him as if she were a puppet on a string. She wanted to be near him, and she didn’t know why. Irrational urges to open the window filled her mind. She wanted to let him in.

“Go on,” he urged her, but she never saw his lips move. “Escape the pain, Beth. Set yourself free.” His voice was soothing, but it was inside her head, echoing through her mind like a ghost rather than through her eardrums as it should have been.

She didn’t know how his voice was inside her head. She just knew that it was.

He was right. She should set herself free.

Raising the handful of pills to her lips, she reached for the window with her other hand. She pressed her palm against the pane, wanting to feel his touch, to get closer to him.

She was about to open the latch when the sound of him hissing jerked her out of the daze. He pulled away from the glass and snarled at her.

Her head cleared in an instant.

What am I doing? What is he doing?

With wide eyes, the realization that she had a third floor apartment slammed through her.

How is he standing outside my fucking window?

She forced her eyes down, breaking his hypnotic stare and hitching her breath as her pulse pounded in her ears.

He was floating about thirty feet above the street.

The pills slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor, skittering across the wooden boards.

Horrified, she stared at the man. Then she jumped when he bared sharp fangs at her.

Oh, what the fuck?

He hissed once more, his face contorting into a demonic grin.

Her pulse raced, and she fought to breathe as he glared at her. She tried to find her voice to scream, but it caught in her throat as he faded away into mist.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pure insanity of it all. When she opened them again, he was gone.

She snatched her hand off the cold glass of the window and stared down at the small golden cross that hung by the chain from her fingers. She trembled.

There were worse things in this world than her parents after all.

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