Dread the Dark Page 6
After a year we changed our last names and left in the night. No one knew we were leaving. We left a note that we were fine but couldn’t live here without Hannah and that we moved and do not want to be found. In the last ten years we have managed to make a life for ourselves. Hannah’s memory has haunted us everywhere we go, and we both take lots of pills that are designed to ease the burden of her death. In reality, nothing really eases that burden, and it’s likely nothing ever will.
We want those who read this to understand that we did everything we knew how to do to help her. Killing her was awful, and there’s not a single day that we don’t relive those moments. We truly believed we were only discarding Hannah’s shell, and not Hannah herself. We were afraid of whatever it was that lived behind Hannah’s eyes.
I’ve written out our side, it’s brief, but I don’t know how much time we have. I’ve named the document “Our Story – To Be Read Upon Our Deaths” and it’s the only thing on the desktop of the computer. Hopefully someone will find it when we are gone.
Hannah
It is dark where I am, but I like the dark. The darkness has always been there for me. When I was a Hannah, I remember the darkness coming at night. My room was the darkest room in the house, it was like walking into a void. I would lay in the darkness, feeling it move and pulse around me. It whispered to me while I slept, slowly wrapping me in its icy embrace.
I don’t remember much from my actual childhood, but that’s because I was born before the earth, I am one of the oldest beings in existence. I do remember becoming Hannah. I had been exiled to the outermost layers of hell. I’ve taken joy in hunting creatures of the light and of the dark. While Lucifer was happy to have me hunt creatures of the light, he turned his back on me when I hunted those of the dark. I believe he was afraid I would surpass him and take his throne. He put me on earth as Hannah to punish me.
I lived as the human child, Hannah, for six years. It was miserable. I had watched humans for so long that although it wasn’t difficult to put up the facade, it tore me to pieces to waste my talents for so long. That’s why on Hannah’s sixth birthday, I decided to use her body to continue my hunt. I wanted it all for myself; hell, heaven, purgatory, and the human realm as well.
Since I was busy planning my takeover, I didn’t have the time to be Hannah. This is when the humans noticed Hannah wasn’t exactly their little girl anymore. They’re so stupid! Hannah doesn’t even exist outside of flesh and blood. She was just a shell, and once I stopped giving her personality, they were stuck with a husk.
Lucifer thought it would be a fitting punishment to make me live as a human. In reality, he had given me time outside of the watchful eyes of the heavens and hell to make my plans.
I never imagined that the humans would kill Hannah. They thought she was their child! Humans are great, they are the only beings that come into this world with both pure light and pure darkness at their essence. This makes them unpredictable, which really makes it more fun for me. When they fed Hannah poison, I tried to repair her, but when her physical body gave in to sleep, they managed to plunge a knife into her heart.
Without a vessel I was snapped back to hell. I had to figure out a way to get back to earth, where I would be free of watchful eyes. It’s taken ten years to really cement my plans. I started with gaining strength by consuming the essence of any dark creature or entity with which I crossed paths. In my home, the outermost layer of hell, it’s common to find the recently deceased and lower level demons wandering about. I consumed all that I found while I continued making plans.
I have a clear path now to taking over all realms, but there is a score I must settle first. The humans that killed the Hannah vessel set me back from the progress I had made in my plans. They must pay. Once they are dead, I will consume their darkness, and I will finally be strong enough to execute my plans.
The phone call to them was just theatrics. The more scared and the angrier they are when they die, the more darkness there will be for me to consume. I will take them as they took Hannah, at four o’clock the afternoon of her birthday, which is coming up here in the next hour or so. I really hope they scream! I better get to making last-minute preparations.
Susan & James
“James, I think that’s about all we can do. We have left our story and made as many arrangements as we can make on a Saturday.”
“You’re right, but we don’t actually know when this will all end. Maybe we have some time still,” James said, his face betraying him. They both know time is almost up.
“It’s three o’ clock. I would bet my life she will come for us at 4 o’clock, when we stopped her heart ten years ago,” Susan said solemnly.
“Then we spend the next hour like it’s our last. We spend it together,” James replied.
They spent the next hour looking at family photos, including those of Hannah. They remembered their wedding, how they fell in love, recounting twenty-five years of memories. As four o’clock approached they held each other closely, exchanging what they believed could be their last words.
At four o’clock on the dot, the front door flew open. There she was, Hannah, but also not Hannah. Susan and James squeezed each other tighter as they took in the sight before them.
Hannah was an adult, around 5’6″ with jet black hair down to her shoulder blades. She wore a bloodied version of the denim overalls and pink t-shirt she wore the day she was murdered. She wasn’t wearing shoes and her skin and clothing were caked in dirt and blood. There were big ugly scars all over her body, scars left from when her parents had dismembered her. Hannah’s once hazel eyes were black with glowing red pupils. Her head sat at a strange angle, as if it wasn’t sewn on properly.
“We are so sorry baby girl. We would’ve done anything for you. We thought you were gone! We thought it was just your body and whatever evil lived inside, we never would’ve hurt you on purpose!” Susan cried. James was transfixed by the sight of his dead daughter. His mouth hung open, tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t seem to make a sound.
The thing that is and isn’t Hannah, opens its mouth into a terrible grin, revealing yellow pointed teeth. When she speaks, it’s a low, gravely sound. “Time to pay your debts, to right the wrongs. After completing your task, I’ll send you to where you belong,” the Hannah thing hisses, tilting its head from the left to an equally unnatural angle to the right.
“Please, we can be a family again. Please Hannah!” James pled. Just as he finished his sentence, the Hannah thing lurched forward, its legs moved as if it was missing its knee joints. Susan let out a small scream and buried her head in James’ shoulder.
The Hannah thing’s lips peeled back to reveal an unnatural Cheshire Cat-like grin. “That’s all for now dear mother, dear father. I’m here for you now, to lead you to slaughter.” Just as it got the last few words out, it lunged at Susan, closing its fingers around her neck. The smell of rotting flesh and decay filled Susan’s nostrils. She understood that it was what she deserved for killing her child. This was her penance.
James tried in vain to loosen the Hannah thing’s grip from his wife’s throat. Upon realizing he can’t move a single one of its fingers, he slumped backwards into a heap of sobs and screams. Susan reached out and grabbed his hand, just in time for the last of her life to slip from her lips. James felt the life leave his wife’s body and became hysterical.
The Hannah things head rotated on its shoulders until it was looking James dead in the eye. The Hannah thing took a step back and motioned to Susan’s lifeless body, as if to say, ‘this one is yours’. The thing that was once Susan turned to look at James, neck purple from where the Hannah thing had crushed its windpipe. The Susan thing reached its hands out towards James’ neck, he screamed through his sobs as the last traces of sanity slipped away from him.
The Susan thing closed its fingers around James’ neck while the Hannah thing looked on with its deadpan yellow grin. When the last of life slipped from James’ body, the thing that wa
s James stands to join the Hannah thing and the Susan thing.
The true Susan and James have been swiftly delivered to the circle of hell dedicated to those parents who commit filicide. They will relive murdering their daughter as themselves, each other, and as Hannah, for the rest of eternity. Their bodies are left to the thing that never really was Hannah, who promptly sends them to recruit more followers. The thing that was Hannah is very old and very powerful. Each person the James thing and Susan thing kill will become property of the thing that was Hannah, growing its hive until it has taken over everything, every place, and everyone.
Hannah
It’s so much better when they are afraid. Their essence, their souls, everything tastes better with fear. Now that I’ve dispatched the humans, I can use their bodies to progress my agenda. I will send the James vessel south and the Susan vessel north to collect more bodies. Through consuming so many when I was in hell, I’m once again strong enough to control an endless number of empty vessels. My reach will be far and wide, I will conquer all of the heavens, the earth, and everything in between.
I’ve sent my vessels to wait until nightfall. Once the humans are asleep, they are to collect vessels right from their beds as they sleep. If you wake to a grinning mouth full of pointed yellow teeth, do not fight it, it’s already too late. Your fate is sealed.
Hannah never existed. However, there will be those who dare ask who I am. To those brave souls I will simply say, they call me Legion, for we are many.
Prepare yourselves, for tonight you may be awoken by yellow teeth and black eyes. By the time you see that wicked grin, it will already be too late. We ask not that you join our number, but we demand that you surrender your vessel as you make your journey to the underworld.
Beware, for we will come for you soon, and lead you to slaughter.
Be Mine
“Be mine?” he asked, cornering me by the coffee machine and holding out a Valentine. I accept it, and notice it’s the kind of Valentine that kids put in shoe boxes at school. It has cupid on the front, preparing to shoot a heart-shaped arrow at some poor unsuspecting soul.
“Thank you Curtis, Happy Valentine’s Day!” I respond. I try to walk away but he’s blocking my path. “Can I squeeze by you? I have some work waiting for me at my desk,” I say with a smile.
“Be mine?” he repeats, his face absent of emotion. I thought this was all in good fun, but I’m beginning to think he’s serious. Curtis has only worked here for a short time, so I don’t know him quite well enough to read him.
“I’m flattered, but I’m seeing someone,” I answered. I thought for sure he knew I was seeing someone. I’ve worked in this office for the last ten years, eight of which I’ve been with Peter. The entire office knows Peter. Curtis just started here a few weeks ago, however I thought he saw Peter come in to bring me lunch the other day. Our desks are right next to each other, and he was sitting in his at the time, maybe he thought Peter was just a friend or a family member.
“That someone isn’t here, are they? Be mine?” he pleaded.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Be mine,” he said.
“For the third time, no, and don’t ask again!” I spit. I’m done being nice.
“Be mine!” he demanded.
“Over my dead body!” I exclaimed. He’s being too pushy. I’m glad we are at the office surrounded by other coworkers, not that any of them are paying attention.
“Fine,” he sighed as he stepped back to let me pass. As I walk past him I swear I hear him whisper “slut.” However, I can’t be sure that’s what I heard, so I keep moving. It was a strange interaction, and he has me a little spooked. I think I’ll keep my distance for now. If it happens again I’ll go to HR, but everyone seems to like Curtis, so I don’t want to rock the boat unless it’s absolutely necessary.
~
Lying in bed I can’t help but think I should’ve seen this coming. He never really spoke to me before today. Our interaction at work was strange and unsettling. Holidays do weird things to people, they stir up all kinds of emotions. I thought maybe he was just lonely and frustrated, not that it excuses harassing me.
None of that matters now. He must have been in my room before I got home. It wasn’t until I laid down and turned off the lights that he emerged from the closet. I think he thought I was sleeping, but wearing an eye mask makes it hard to tell. I know he’s standing over me. I heard the closet door open, followed by soft footsteps approaching the bed. I think he’s standing over me now. I am so afraid to take my eye mask off, to move, to breathe.
I feel the movement of air as he kneels down next to the bed, his lips getting dangerously close to my ear.
“Be mine?” he asks.
I don’t know what to do. Maybe if I hold still he will think I’m asleep and change his mind.
“BITCH, I know you’re awake! You will be mine. I own you! You start right now,” he yells.
Slowly, I lift my hand to my head and pull off my sleep mask. There he is, once again standing over me. He looks so much bigger and truly terrifying in the dark. There’s a wild look in his eyes. He’s wearing black from head to toe.
“That’s more like it! Now, BE MINE!” Before I can respond he jumps on top of me, straddling me at the waist and closes his large hands over my windpipe. I try to fight him but it’s no use, he outweighs me by at least fifty pounds. The lack of oxygen is stripping my muscles of their power. No matter how much I fight, things slowly go dark.
~
Upon waking, I see that I’m in my bathtub. My neck hurts from laying at such an awkward angle. Even more disturbing, I’m naked from the waist up. As I slowly come out of the haze, I see that he’s sitting on the toilet lid a couple of feet away, eyes closed. I shift in the tub to straighten my neck and his eyes immediately snap open.
“Welcome back my dear, now the fun can begin,” he says mid-yawn. I cross my arms across my chest, trying to cover myself up. I feel so vulnerable and exposed, it’s awful.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you doing this?” I ask. He shifts on the toilet lid, turning to face me. His elbows rest on his legs as he leans toward me.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” he asks, his wild eyes darting back and forth from me to his hands.
“What? What does that matter? I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything terrible,” I manage to squeak out.
“Sounds like you aren’t thinking hard enough. No one ever does, they always like to think they’re good people. You think so too, don’t you, that you’re a good person?” His grin is unsettling and it’s making me incredibly nervous.
“I’m apparently oblivious. Please tell me why you’re doing this and what you plan to do. Please don’t hurt me. I’m sure whatever is going on can be worked out.” I’m trying to keep my cool but desperation finds me and gives itself away by the tremble in my voice.
“A couple of months ago you made a mistake, a big, giant, whopper of a mistake. It was the kind of mistake I find offensive. I gave you a great gift and you’re just throwing it away,” Curtis says.
I wish I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I do. I don’t know how he could possibly know, I haven’t told a single person because I’m so ashamed. I can feel the tears trying to fight their way out of my eyes, but I must try to stay calm and collected.
He takes my silence as a reason to keep talking. “You had a special relationship with the person I replaced at the office. From what I understand, your mistake is why he quit his job. I’m also here because of your mistake, understand?”
I can’t help it, I feel the tears as they spill down my face. “I still don’t understand what’s going on, but you’re right, I did make a mistake. I made the biggest mistake of my life. The whole office went out for drinks while Peter was out-of-town seeing some relatives. I had an inappropriate moment with your predecessor.”
“Ah, ya, you made a mistake all right. Calling it an inapprop
riate moment is an insult to everyone affected. While your husband was away seeing family, you brought home a coworker. You little worthless slut! You brought him here, to the home you share with Peter, and you let him bend you over the couch. You have defiled this entire house,” he says, disgusted.
“I know! I would do anything to take it back! I don’t know what came over me,” I sob. “But I still don’t understand why you care. What does this have to do with you?”
“You can’t take it back, but you can pay the price. When you and Peter were born, I marked both of your souls. That’s my job, to match souls. My mark led you to each other, you are true soulmates. I put in all of this hard work to match you up to your perfect partner, and you throw it in my face.”
I don’t understand what he’s talking about. I thought he was crazy before, but this is a whole new level. I don’t know what to do besides sit and cry.
“My primary function is to match souls. However, I’ve found a pet project over the millennia that keeps things fresh for me. Since you have disgraced the gift I gave you, since you’ve broken Peter’s heart, even though he doesn’t yet know it yet, I am here to collect the fee. Your heart is blackened by this deceit, so I am here to collect it,” he pauses, his eyes boring holes through mine. Slowly he reaches behind him into a bag I hadn’t noticed before. His hand re-emerges wrapped around the handle of a scalpel.
“No! No! NO!” I scream, I’m losing my wits. There’s nowhere to run. He’s between me and the door. I know I won’t be able to fight him off.
“You broke Peter’s heart,” he says with a grin, “so I’m here to take yours,” his grin widens as he recognizes the horror in my eyes.
“I’ll be better, I swear! I’ll make it right, I’ll tell Peter! I’ll tell him he deserves better than me! Please don’t hurt me, please!” I plead.
Before I can react, he lunges forward and shoves a syringe into my neck. Within seconds my arms have gone slack, once again exposing my bare chest. I try to lift my arms back up but I can’t. My body feels like it’s made of lead; it’s so heavy I can’t move. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. I’m trapped in my own body. He tosses the syringe aside, and scalpel in hand, he kneels next to the tub.