Authors: Heather Bserani
The road was winding and steep with several impossible stop signs. It seemed as though she could walk faster than she was driving as she inched closer to her destination. Every successful turn was a small triumph.
She was descending the steepest of the hills which ended in a sharp right turn followed by a stop sign. She started tapping the brakes from the top of the hill. The speedometer read three miles per hour. She wished that this road had been better plowed. If she made it through the stop sign, the worst of the drive would be over. The dull wind had been punctuated with fiercer gusts all morning, and she had been careful not to be blinded by the white-outs. As she was nearing the turn, a sudden gust of wind tore out of the surrounding forest, throwing snow into the air and erasing the world around her.
Temporarily disoriented, she squinted, trying to make out the road ahead. She gripped the wheel and tapped the brakes more fervently. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking for something that would help her get her bearing. She was distracted by the way the snowflakes danced on the invisible wind currents, never thinning enough to reveal the world beyond. For a split-second, she thought she saw something unmoving despite the frantic gusts. Her eyes narrowed with effort as she tried to make sense of it. The wind shifted angrily and threw another blast of snow at her windshield. She flinched instinctively and whatever had held her attention was gone. She tried to tell her racing heart that in a second the snow would settle and she would regain her bearing. That would be a second too late.
Dori felt her truck lurch forward and she thought she was sliding, although it was hard to tell without a reference point. It felt as if she had been pushed, but was the wind that strong? She sensed that she was now traveling faster than before. She froze in her seat as her speed increased.
Automatically, she cranked the steering wheel opposite the direction she was skidding and her foot rammed the brake pedal. The snow lifted momentarily and then began to drift lazily toward the ground, a white comforter settling on the bed of snow. Dori saw the th Cri toick trees of the forest racing closer at the bottom of the hill. How was it possible that she was travelling this fast?
She could feel the adrenaline in her system. There was no way to stop. Her truck seemed to press toward the intimidating trees even faster. Thump, thump, thump, thump raced her heart; the truck sped impossibly faster. She had been going so slowly. The truck jerked forward as if it had been shoved; now she was hurtling toward the black wall of oak trees. This was going to be bad.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP. For a split second Dori only heard her heart. The sound of the twisting metal rang through the dark sky. The next scene unfolded in front of her eyes, as though she was outside of herself as her truck slammed into the trees. She heard the mournful groan of a large oak whose trunk had been nearly bent in half by the sudden impact of her vehicle. She watched as that same oak gave way to its injury and fell in slow motion across the roof of the pick-up. She heard, rather than felt, her own neck snap.
The morning was silent. Dori realized she was back in her body again and her eyes flitted around, trying to figure out what had just happened. She wanted to reach for her phone, but her body wouldn’t obey. She tried to draw in a deep breath to call for help, but the air caught in her throat. The world was spinning and she was helpless in the whirlpool. She sat there in the freezing quiet for a while, trapped and scared.
Slowly her senses awoke and she began to assess the situation. She heard the whistle of the wind as it enveloped the twisted shape of her car punctuated by the rapid assault of snowflakes flung through the air. Then the faint, slow thump of her heart was audible in her ears and it grew steadily stronger. A similar faint noise kept time with her heart. Something, probably blood, was dripping from her temple.
Her vision focused now that she was more under control. She couldn’t turn her head, but she was trying to catalogue everything she could see, attempting to assess the situation. She was wedged in the space between the tree trunk and the overturned treetop. She was staring straight at the clock, which now showed eight, eight, eight, no longer keeping track of the passing minutes. Her mouth awoke to a metallic taste. Her stomach rolled again and she was certain that she had bitten her tongue when the airbag slammed into her face. She sat immobile for a very long time.
After what seemed like forever, Dori heard the distant wail of an ambulance. Her heart jumped. Help was on the way! She heard some frantic yelling and tried to call out. Nothing but a broken whisper squeaked out and she decided it was better to save her energy. Tears fell fervently, like an open faucet. They left a cool, wet path on either cheek on that snowy morning.
The sirens multiplied and grew louder. She tried to make sense of the jumble of sounds that were flooding her thoughts. She was too shaken to identify them, but finally there was the rhythmic flashing of lights bouncing off the world around her. She was slowly losing her grip on reality as shock set in. She felt as though she was being pulled away from the immediacy of the scene. It was as if something was pulling at the core of her soul, pulling her up and away. She didn’t want to go and tried to shrug off the magnetic sensation, but it was impossible. She was too tired to put up a fight.
She swallowed and resigned to give in to the gentle, convincing tug. Her eyes sagged and then shut Candave her . She said silent goodbyes to those she loved. Just as she was giving up, she heard a voice she recognized in the distance. Something about that voice made it hard to disobey. She remembered that she liked the voice that was calling her back to reality. The voice was willing her to stay.
“Dorianna, stay with me. I can help you live through this, but you have to stay. You have to give me a chance. Dori?”
It was the voice of an angel and it filled her confused mind. The voice rang in her ears and made her heart race. She was too far away from reality to easily recognize the person she was hearing, but she knew she liked the owner of that voice. Her mind drifted to a cramped living room. She saw swirls of color, one blending into the next. She heard the echo of classical music in the distance. A comforting heat crept into her memory and suddenly the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. She knew that voice; the man it belonged to occupied a growing place in her heart. In her mind, she saw Michael with paint smudged on his face. She was rocketed back to reality, back into her body. Her eyes snapped open with a determination to disobey the pull. She wanted to stay here, with him. He would make this better.
“Help me.” It was no more than a breath, but somehow he heard.
“Dori! Don’t talk!” I am going to get you out of here. You have to trust me today. I will save you from this.”
It took an eternity for the emergency squad to make progress. Michael was giving orders to everyone there. She didn’t know what was going on, but everyone was scurrying to obey him. Once the neck brace had been fastened, the tree had to be removed from the roof of the truck. Then the fire department came in with the jaws-of-life to cut her from the mangled heap of metal, all the while the wind was thwarting them with a relentless barrage of icy needles. At some point she was wrapped in a foil blanket. Michael climbed into the wreckage to support Dori’s neck and shoulders once the roof had been removed. Day broke and the gray light cast a somber mood over the scene. She knew that her situation was worse than she had originally thought.
The sun was much higher in the sky when the rescue squad finally brought the backboard over. It took several men to lift her onto the board and they did so with the care they would have shown a newborn. They could have manhandled her, she thought, for all the difference it made. She could feel nothing from the neck down. Michael climbed into the ambulance and touched her face. There was a flicker of indecision in his eyes, a moment when he was still amidst the hustle of the emergency squad, and then he jumped out of the back of the ambulance. He was talking with the other rescue squad members.
“Stay here,” was all he needed to tell them. There was an awkward silence, but the volunteers finally shuffled off to investigate the scene.
Michael climbed back into the ambulance and flashed Dori a triumphant smile. She was too exhausted to try to figure out what had just taken place. Before she knew it, the ambulance was in motion and Michael was alone, preparing a syringe.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Do you want to be able to walk again? Be able to pick up your children? Be able to squeeze t C towouldhem tightly in your arms again?” Excitement burned in Michael’s eyes.
“Yes,” she answered again. This time her chin wobbled with the threat of another deluge of tears. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she would never hold her precious girls again.
“Good.” He plunged the needle into her unresponsive arm. “This is something to help you sleep. I promise when you wake up, you will be a new woman.” He finished administering the dose and leaned very close to her face. His sudden closeness surprised her and she was dizzy. Her heart raced. He kissed her forehead; his warm embrace was loving. He pulled away and his gentle smile put hope back in her heart.
He paused for a mere second and his face changed completely. His jaw set, his eyes took on a wild glow. With flaring nostrils, he pulled back his lips, revealing a threatening row of teeth and lunged at her throat. He bit into her cold flesh. Pain instantly seared through her. She gasped, wanting to scream and his hand clamped over her mouth. Her mind raced. She had to move, to shove him off, to push him away, but she lay still, her body betraying her.
She suddenly felt very sleepy, her eyelids sagged. She couldn’t will them open. He was still at her neck, but he wasn’t attacking any more. She felt his lips caress her chin. Her eyes finally sank shut as he moved up her jaw line; his kisses were tender and loving. She couldn’t fight the sleep that was taking her captive, sucking her down into a dark abyss. A creeping chill was penetrating her more deeply now. It was chasing her further into darkness. She wondered how long she had been outside in the snow.
“
Grazie
,” the angel voice echoed in the darkness. The words swirled and danced in her mind like blinding snowflakes on the breeze and she lost her battle with sleep. Dori fell, slowly, toward some unknown depth for what seemed like hours. The cold intensified as she drifted lower and lower. Finally, her decent stopped as she settled onto an unseen floor. She shivered alone in the dark
.
Chapter Eight
February 7, 1598
I am no longer the man I once was. All hope of salvation has been stolen from me. I am now a prisoner of the nighte. The demonic spectre made me part of his coven; I
’
d rather he had ended my suffering. Instead I shall spend the rest of eternitie searching for his demise.
He found the three remaining colonists and myself huddled in the chapel, reciting the Lord
’
s prayer. A stench was noticeable before the smoke began billowing in. We presumed the building had caught fire, but we were quite deceived. While we watched, the putrid cloud solidified and became flesh and bone. Before us stood Lucifer
’
s henchman. A skeletal body with matted hair stared with a menacing grin. Eerie laughter filled the room. Spittle dripped from his chin.
The tortures we endured that nighte left us all beggi Fged a
’
s greede for our pain. Blood ran through the pews, sullying the Lord
’
s house.
Henry was laine out on the altar and the barbarian drove spikes through his palms and feet. John
’
s wrists were slit to fill the communion challis with an unholy offering. James was bound and prepared for a spiritual cleansing. The vile creature performed a darke, darke exorcism on him, tearing open his flesh to free his body of evil. With my fellow colonists in varying stages of deathe, he turned his attention to me.
Ravenous eyes thirsted for more carnage; he was intoxicated by the terror and gore. He pursued me swiftly, but my torture would come later. Wordlessly he lifted me to his bosom and sunk his teeth into me. Blackness overtook me. I sank into a frozen chasme. I cannot say how long it was before I awoke, but when I did I was quite ravaged with hunger. The air was perfumed with the most glorious smell and a single thought drove me. I was quite savage, tearing at any obstacles in my path.
He stopped me then. Hands strong as ten men gripped my shoulders. Try as I might to thwart them, my weakness and hunger were paralyzing. As I took in the scene round me I vaguely remembered fear, but my desire to feed quickly distracted me. After a warning about needing to sleepe, he offered me the communion goblet. Woozy with delight, I drank every last drop. Like a wild, man-eating beast I tore into the first two, quickly learning how to draw the intoxicating elixir. I fed and fed, relishing the uncomfortable way my full bellie stretched. Giddy, I fell on the final course. My teeth sunk unto his wrist and warmth pulsed into me. This one was still alive! He moaned, which rekindled my hunger. The heartbeat began to weaken, and yet he stirred. His eyes flickered open, searching my face. He whispered a single worde, my name, and in that moment of recognition, my worlde shifted yet again.
I dropped his hande and stumbled as I retreated. I looked rounde, where was the familiar stranger? What was I doing? What had I become? I heard James take his laste breath and I stood alone with three corpses. I was crippled with the realization that their deaths were by my hande. I fled into the confessional where I prayed for forgiveness. Tis with the Holy Father
’
s name on my lips that I were welcomed into Satan
’
s realme.