Off the Beaten Path: Eight Tales of the Paranormal (8 page)

The ache in my belly wound its way up into my throat.  The need for food began to morph into an almost unbearable thirst.  I stepped forward and still Matt was so far absorbed in his
work
that he hadn’t noticed me.

I growled.

Matt jumped back, finally becoming aware of my presence.  It was comical watching him rock back in his chair as I startled him and his ensuing fumbles to close whatever website he was on.

“Laura,” he said, stuttering and finally spinning in his chair to face me directly.  “I see you’re here early.  Finally going to get some work finished on time?”

It was a standard comment from him, but the jab lacked his usual bluster.  I didn’t respond.  His face flushed a deep shade of red, and I enjoyed watching him squirm in his discomfort.  Taking slow steps into his office, I found I could smell his nervousness as I closed the distance between us.

Matt stared at me, seeming unable to form words, waiting for me to speak.  I was content with the silence.  His eyes flicked down to my attire, stalling on my breasts for a few heartbeats.  He tried to meet my gaze again but couldn’t seem to make his eyes behave.  It took him several moments to formulate his next thought.

“Wasn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?”  At that, he stopped trying to look away.  It was as if the question gave him an excuse to ogle me, and his eyes were glued to my curves.  I squinted my eyes in anger, but he never noticed.

My stomach rumbled and my throat burned.

When I reached his desk, Matt finally tore his eyes away from my body to meet my gaze, and I could see the lust written plainly on his face.  I sneered at him, and was satisfied when uncertainty broke through and the smooth line of his brow furrowed.  The nervousness was tinged with fear, a sweet smell that I instantly knew I would savor.

“Laura?” he questioned, as I slid around the desk to stand over him.  He shied away from me and I was able to see why he w
as reluctant to stand up.  He had unzipped his pants to better enjoy his extracurricular activities.

I g
rowled at him.  “You disgust me!”

“Now, now,” he said, stuttering again and reaching under the desk to zip up.  “Why don’t I give you a free pass on those articles and we can forget this ever happened.”

Anger boiled inside me.  He rocked back in his chair as I slapped him.  The loud crack that resonated through the room was testament to how hard I had hit him.  My grin was sadistic as I once again found myself enjoying his pain.

I waited almost patiently for Matt to shake off his daze.  It only took a few seconds, and then I found him towering
over me as he jumped from his chair in a rage.  I smirked at the bright red hand print that now marred his face.

“You bitch!” he said and seethed.  His normally slicked back hair was now sticking up in wayward, gelled strands, and his blue eyes were wide and wild.  Both of his hands were clenched into fists, and I knew he was fighting down the urge to return the blow.  “It’s your word against mine.  I’ll have you out on your ass before the first bell.”

“No,” I replied calmly, unmoved and unshaken by his threats.  “I don’t think you will.”

“Time for you to go.”
  Matt’s voice was loud and stern.  It was the voice he put on when he brooked no argument, but I was still unfazed.  He reached for me, probably an attempt to force me toward the door, but I easily batted his hands away.

Matt sputtered as I watched him try to process the events happening before him.  He was out of his normal controlling element and his confidence was now on shaky ground.  The uncertainty had dug into him, and I smirked, biding my time.

When he reached for me again, I balled up my fist and jabbed him sharply in the chest with more power than I knew I possessed.  He flew backwards only to be caught by his chair, the force of his landing rolling the chair into the wall and bouncing off.

“What the hell?” he asked and gasped in shock once he was able to draw in a ragged breath.  Matt tried to rise against me again.  And again, I easily put him back in the chair with one hand on his shoulder, not even using all my strength.  Shock registered first on his face, but then I smelled it.  The sweet aroma of fear began to drift through the air.  That wasn’t enough; I wanted it to permeate the room.

“Laura,” he said, still stuttering, unable to form a follow-up protest or plea.  I arched an eyebrow and cocked my head to the side as I smiled wickedly down at him.

“Yes, Matthew?”  My voice was sweet, like honey.

Deceptively innocent.

“Let’s take a step back.”  He finally managed to spit out after a few moments.  I furrowed my brow in mock curiosity and leaned back against the desk, releasing my hold on him.  I didn’t care what he had to say, I just wanted to watch him squirm… just a little longer.

“The Greenwald research from last month,” Matt said, stumbling over each word.  As he leaned forward, I noticed he had started to shake, and a twisted grin crept back onto my face, which only made his shaking worse.  “I can fix the files for you.  Submit it to Edwardson under your name.  You’ll get all the recognition.  He won’t ever know I touched them.”

Even now, his over-inflated sense of self-worth reared its ugly head, and rage engulfed me.  My hand swept out to grasp the side of his face, and I slammed his head into the desk.  He fell forward onto his knees, obviously dazed by the blow.

“There’s nothing wrong with my research,” I said, snarling, even though I knew it would make no difference.  Nothing I could do or say would be able to shatter Matt’s infallible ego.

I reached my thin arms around his torso to pull him from the floor and throw him across the desk.  It was ridiculous that my small form could pick up such a large man, but I completed the task with ease, trusting in my new found strength.

Matt began to shake off the daze, trying feebly to rise, but I wouldn’t allow it.  I leaned over him, pressing him back down against the desk.  His eyes went wide as the realization of his new circumstances dawned on him, and I finally received what I had been waiting so patiently for.  The room flooded with the smell of his fear, and I breathed in deeply, intoxicated by it.

And then the scent of something else hit my nose, cold, coppery and delicious.  My throat started to burn with the deepest thirst I had ever known.

As Matt was scrambling towards the phone on his desk, I tore it away from his grasp with hardly a thought.  The cords snapped in two as I tossed it across the room, but the movements were insignificant.  I was fascinated by my new find.

On his temple, where I had slammed his head against the sharp edge of the desk,
pulsed bright red blood.  I watched it drip down his face, transfixed by the enticing red flow.  It called to me.  It sang to me.

Underneath me, Matt was trying to push up, kicking his feet against the floor trying to gain traction, but it was all in vain.  I had him pinned.  He tried to yell but one of my hands wrapped over his mouth to stifle his screams. All I cared about was the ruby red liquid that was mesmerizing me.

Slowly, I leaned forward, drawing closer to his face, closer to the blood.  Matt stilled momentarily, probably wondering what I was going to do next, but I no longer cared about Matt or his torment.  The thirst was pulling me down, controlling my actions.  I slid my tongue over his temple, licking the blood from his skin.  I tasted salt and copper, and it was everything I had ever wanted.

A thrill shot through me that was unmatched by anything I’d ever felt before, even greater than
Nik’s passionate kisses.  I had to have more.

Matt’s struggles renewed, but they meant nothing to me.  They were as insignificant as a mouse trapped in a lions paw.  Excitement thrummed through my core, and my belly rumbled again in anticipation.  I closed my eyes, drinking it all in.  Letting my jaw drop open, I ran my tongue against my teeth and flicked the tip against the sharp points of my elongated canines.

Opening my eyes, I saw the shadow of Nik standing back from the doorway.  There was just enough light falling on him for me to see the expression on his face.

Wanton. 
Expectant.  Evil.

I grinned.

I fell over Matt, my teeth eagerly sinking into the flesh of his neck.  It was instinctual, but I still missed the vein at first.  I ripped and tore until the blood flowed freely, and I drank it in, satiating the harrowing thirst inside me.

It was warm and sharply metallic as it flowed over my tongue, and it felt like I would never get enough.  As I was finally able to satisfy my new, demanding thirst, I knew it
was the most wonderful feeling I had ever felt.  Nothing else compared.  Even the struggles of the doomed man beneath me heightened the experience.  It was exquisite.

But other desires began to seep back in as my thirst was fulfilled.  Hatred again raced across the forefront of my mind for the man dying beneath me and I knew I wasn’t quite ready for his torment to end.  Not this easily, at least.

It was excruciating, but I managed to pull away before Matt’s life force ebbed fully.  He gurgled in the blood that had flooded his throat, and I released him finally.  He slumped to the floor, his eyes staring at me in disbelief and horror.

I gazed down at him until I was satisfied that he would die here alone as he finished bleeding out, with no one to offer him help, and no one to offer him comfort.

Paralyzed by his fear, he croaked at me – perhaps even an attempt to scream, but I ignored it.  Stepping over him, I left the discarded husk of a man behind me and didn’t look back.

As I approached
Nik, I saw the approval glimmering in his eyes.  He reached out his hand for mine and I grasped on to it gratefully.  I was walking away from a life that I was happy to let go of.  From this point on, Nik would be my guide... my savior.  I finally understood what he had given me.

Life.

And I wanted nothing more than for him to lead me into the darkness.

Our anthology began with a quirky flash, so it is only fitting to end it in a similar fashion. 
Without further ado…

Prairie Zombies

Chip Putnam

“Now, sonny,” I said.  “Everything I’m going to tell you really happened, and that’s God’s truth.”

“What happened, Gramps?” John whispered.

“You see, boy, I had stopped my plowing because it was so blame hot.”

“Which field, Gramps?” he asked, keen to hear more.

“Why, the very field where you were playing this afternoon,” I answered.  “We’ve been farming this Nebraska land for four generations.  Now, where was I?”

“It was hot...” John answered.

“Don’t interrupt!” I snapped, settling into my chair.  “Oh yes, I had been plowing all day.  Your great-
grandmother had just brought water out to the field, while your mama was dancing off to the side.  She would have been about eight years old then.”

“What happened next, Gramps?” John whispered.

“Didn’t rightly know it at the time, but that silly girl was dancing a ritual dance of the Akirioix.”

“
The who?”

“The
Akirioix!” I said.  “They were here first, before us, before the Cheyenne.    Most of them was buried on this very farm.”

“Here!” he squeaked.

“Oh yes, here, and Sally was dancing their ritual for raising the dead,” I answered.

“Did they come back as ghosts?”  John asked, horrified.

“Not ghosts, Sonny.  Much worse. They were zom—” 

“Zombies!” he cried.

“Not just zombies, these was prairie zombies,” I said.  “They’re tough, like the people who settled this land.  A prairie zombie will rip your arm off and smack your head off your shoulders with your own hand.  The minute Sally stopped dancing, the ground started shaking.  First one arm appeared, then two, and then a head.  Soon, it looked like a whole army was rising up right in my wheat field.  It made me down-right mad.  I’d worked hard clearing that field.”

“What did you do?” John asked.

I answered, “Well, I’d heard of prairie zombies rising up near Omaha.  While tough, they could be stopped.  Thanks to a couple of traveling salesmen, I had just the thing to do it.  I yelled at Helen and Sally to keep the monsters in the field while I ran back to the barn.”

“Gramps, did you have a flame-thrower in the barn?” John asked.

“Humph,” I snorted.  “You see, it turns out that my new harvester was also great for destroying zombies.  That’s how the farmers in Omaha had taken care of their problem.  So, I hitched up my new machine to the horses.  That machine did a mighty good job of mowing those zombies.  Heads and arms all went into the thresher.  It made one fine mess, but it sure cleared—”

“Gramps!
  What are you telling that boy now?”  My granddaughter yelled.  “It took us a week to get him to sleep through the night after the last story you told him.”

“Is it just a story, Gramps?” John asked. 

“Let’s just say that zombies also make great fertilizer,” I replied with a wink.  “That darn field still produces five times more wheat than all the other fields combined.”