Angie

 

 

Angela Broussard could feel the talons of the shadow monsters biting into her flesh. Their shrieks made her head want to explode, but even above the screams of the beasts, one voice called out to her.

It was hard to make out at first, but she slowly realized it was a song. It was something unlike any she’d heard before. The notes were haunting almost and the tune lilted like flowing water. The language wasn’t English and it didn’t sound like one she’d heard before, but it called to her. It begged her to surrender herself and quit fighting against the demons which hunted her relentlessly. Something about the melody made her feel that everything would be okay and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she thought so too. Angela let the song guide her as she floated through the abyss.

She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there, but she knew in her gut that if she’d follow that deep voice, she’d find it. Angela felt a tug in her chest and warmth radiated outwards from its source. Something about it brought her peace and comfort, even though she knew it should scare her.

She followed the voice and allowed her heart to choose for her.

 

Two Days Later

Angie wished she’d never woken up. The monsters who’d taken her had changed something inside her and made her different. Sleeping or awake; it didn’t even matter anymore, Angie still saw things. Horrible things. She’d have thought it was just nightmares or trauma if it hadn’t been for one specific vision. She’d seen that fucker Drake and his even scummier brother, Brad, tearing New Orleans apart bit by bit. She’d seen the demons slither across the city as they left trails of death behind them. She saw things she shouldn’t and perhaps, she was going crazy, but she thought not. The sights were too real.

Angie laid in an unfamiliar bed, in a place she’d never seen before. She could hear movement in another part of the house and wondered if the mystery rescuer would come in and introduce themselves.

Everything ached, but it wasn’t the stabbing agony she vaguely remembered. Visions of Brad’s malicious grin invaded her head and she retreated to safer grounds. Is Maya here, too? She wondered silently, hoping she wasn’t alone in a strange place. She tossed the covers aside and pushed herself up into a seated position. Angie grimaced as the mattress let out a loud groan as she sat up.

Floorboards creaked with each step towards the room. Someone was coming. The doorknob turned and the door pushed open about a foot. It was enough for a man to pop his head through.

His eyes went round and his lips parted when he saw her awake.

“Hello,” he purred, his gaze never leaving hers.

She tried to reply, but it’d been a few days since she’d used her voice and her throat was too dry to work for her. Instead, she lifted her hand in a tiny wave.

The man stepped inside and pushed it shut with his foot behind him. His dark hair hung long and straight past his shoulders. The room was too dim to make out the exact shade of it, but she could swear she’d caught a glimpse of violet in it. His nose was straight and regal and his lips full and pouty. His face had an angular quality to it with sharp lines along his jaw and cheekbones. The man was tall, at least a full foot taller than her five foot four inches.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, moving next to the bed.

She flinched with each step that brought him closer. He must have noticed, because he stopped. The man knelt down so he was eye level with her. Though he was careful not to touch her when he reached up and flipped the switch to the bedside lamp on.

“My name is Arlen Darragh and this is my home. Your name is Angela, right?” he asked, but she was frozen and unable to answer.

It was his eyes. They were a bright violet and seemed to glow when the light hit them just right.

Inhuman.

Just like the demons who had tried, and almost succeeded in killing her.

Her body shook in terror and before either of them could say a word, Angie let out a shrill scream and skittered back away from him. Is he one of them? She hugged her knees to her chest and gripped her head still screaming. Tears slid down her cheeks freely and before her mind broke altogether, she surrendered back into the safety of the abyss and felt her consciousness slip away. She waited there until she knew whether or not the man was a friend or foe.

The following days passed slowly for Angie in the darkness. She knew had a limited understanding of what went on around her, but found she was unable to force herself to respond even when she wanted to. She was trapped inside the prison her own mind had built.

The man named Arlen wasn’t what he’d seemed. The demons didn’t care for anything, but he did. Each day, he brought her fresh meals in case she’d come to. However, she didn’t and he’d take away the tray still filled with cold food. Arlen sponged her skin tenderly and changed her clothes, never giving an inkling that his thoughts were sexual. He even went so far as to lather up her hair and rinse it, patting it dry afterwards and brushing it out. Never once did he show aggression or frustration with her.

With each new day, he sang to her. She wasn’t sure if it was her dreams or wishful thinking, but the familiar tune echoed in her mind. Angela felt like he was calling out to her, begging for her to return.

Whether he was safe or not, Angie knew she would eventually need to be brave enough to find out.