Rewritten opening for The Three Rings (June 2017 I like this version better lmao)

Prologue

Everyone has those moments in life where they wish there was some fantastical world they belonged to, some world that made them forget their boring existence. A world where they have power that they don’t actually have in their true lives.

Most people use television or books to escape. What no one understands is that, there are other worlds far different than anything we would ever know. Worlds we can’t imagine, worlds that have a special place reserved for us for some amazing reason. Amazing scenery, foes, creatures, friends. All it takes to find one of these places is to just look hard enough.

It’s confusing, yes. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be true. The saddest part about me telling you these things is that very few of you will believe me. What makes it worse is that, of the small number that believes, you’ll give up just before you find what you’re searching for and there’s not a thing I can do to help you.

The searching comes from you, sometimes within yourself. The only one who can get you to your special world is you. Well, you and a few friends from that world who can’t simply wait around for you forever.

Maybe this tale will help you see what you’re missing.


Chapter 1

Natalie Parkson had no idea what was in store for her the summer she was travelling with her uncle and his circle. She expected adventure and fun but couldn’t have tried to prepare herself for the adventure fate had twisted and set in her path.

Natalie, at eighteen, was a fun loving young woman who rarely took things seriously. Her life hadn’t been easy but it hadn’t been particularly difficult either. Her parents were inattentive, often opting to send her away during the summer so they didn’t have to concern themselves with her.

When she was younger, she was afraid to spend the summers with her uncle Sampson. He was a Ringmaster of his own circus. He looked a bit intimidating as a portly man, bald with a thick black mustache and a normally pale face that turned a shade to challenge a beet when he was angry. He didn’t have a short fuse, but when he was upset, there was no real way to avoid it.

But he always had a soft spot for his young niece. Sure, she was easily a source of stress to him but he never really blamed her for it. She was a child that spent her entire summer in a trailer of a travelling circus until her parents said she could come back to get ready for school.

As Sampson waited for his niece at the airport in Washington, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his large black van, advertisements for his circus painted on the sides.

For once, he wore normal clothes, jeans and a dark shirt, his mustache tamed slightly while his bald head glistened with sweat while an excited grin pulled at his lips. The fifty year old man had been preparing for her visit for months and was rather eager to see how she reacted to the surprises he had arranged.

He watched the door to the airport intently, glassing at his obnoxious looking wristwatch, red and gaudy gold, comically sized. His smile faded a bit, a nervous twinge in his chest. What if she had decided not to come? What if she refused? Would they even call him to tell-THERE! There she was!

Natalie stepped out of the airport, carrying a large suitcase pulling a trunk on wheels behind her. She was a tall, lean girl with pale with a sprinkle of light freckles on her face. Her eyes were bright green,complimented by her long, red hair, naturally pin straight. There was no doubt she was a pretty girl but she wasn’t what one would consider ‘vain.’

Her jeans were dark and tattered at the feet, as if she had been walking on them, wear marks at the pockets from sticking her phone in it so often. Her tee shirt had some cartoon reference Sampson himself didn’t understand and her sneakers were oddly bulky with neon orange color but he didn’t care. He was just happy to see her. He didn’t really get to see her throughout the rest of the year and she was the only member of his family that didn’t mind being with him.

He let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand against the horn, a squeaking sound coming from it, like a clown’s shoe step. He saw her look over in the direction of his van and crack a large grin, hustling over. He pushed open his door, sliding out and walking to the back of the van to pull open the double doors to help her load. “Natty!”

He flashed her a grin as she moved over, the girl grunting as she hefted her suitcase into the van. “Hey, Uncle Sampson. Been waiting long?” She waited for him, watching the man bend down to pick up one end of the trunk. “The flight attendant wouldn’t shut up. All I wanted was to get off the plane and she kept yammering on like I really cared.”

Sampson chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “I didn’t wait much longer than normal. You should appreciate when people want to talk to you. Says more about how you present yourself than anything they can tell you about themselves.” He offered her a lopsided smile as duo loaded up the trunk, Natalie quietly pondering his words.

Once her things were situated, Sampson closed up the van doors and gestured to the front of the vehicle.

“Go on, get in. Let’s get back to the others before they leave without us.” He was hardly joking, moving to the driver’s side as Nat moved to the other side, sliding into her seat and buckling in.

“So. How was the flight, Natty?” Sampson glanced at the girl from the corner of his eye as he started up the van, checking quickly to see that the way was clear before pulling away from the sidewalk and driving down the street.

Nat smiled softly at the nickname he had given her when she was little. She didn’t really expect it to have stuck for so long but she liked it. She leaned back in the seat. “Oh, well, the flight was fine. Not in top three but not in the dishonorable mentions either.” She was very familiar with planes and had seen plenty of odd things in her years.

Sampson smirked a bit. “Well, that’s good, I suppose. Aside from the attendant tellin’ you her life story, of course.” He knew she didn’t really mind it when people tried to talk to her. If she did, she was vocal enough to say something to stop them in their tracks.

Nat shrugged a little bit. “Yeah, it wasn’t too bad. She was a nice enough lady. I couldn’t be a flight attendant. I don’t want to deal with people in closed spaces like that. It’s not fun and I’d go crazy.”

“Well, there’s always a spot for you in the circus, you know. If you decided you could handle more than a few months with me, of course.” Sampson’s eyes were on the street, not sure he wanted to see her reaction to his words. He would love to have family in the show permanently but if it wasn’t something she wanted, he wouldn’t want her to feel guilted.

Nat blinked, looking at him. She had never really considered that before. She loved the circus but it had always been something to take her away from her real life. If it became her life in a serious way, could she handle it? She was quiet for a moment, contemplating.

“What would I do? You have everything you need, don’t you? I’m too afraid of heights to be an acrobat and I don’t really want to be a clown…the makeup makes me break out.” They had both learned that the hard way when one summer, she volunteered to work with the clowns and she was completely miserable with all the grease paint.

Sampson clicked his teeth. “No, you wouldn’t be a clown or an acrobat. I’m thinking about adding a new attraction, actually.” What he wasn’t telling her was that he had already invested in the attraction, desperately hoping she would take care of it during the summer and decide to stay.

Nat quirked a brow, shifting in her seat as she glanced over at him. “What attraction? Or is it a surprise? Is it a freak show?” She knew he would be irritated by the freak show comment. He hated that term. He was a surprisingly kind man and considered everyone in his circus as a unique family member, but never a freak. She watched him curiously, catching a slight pursing of his lips as her words hit him.

“For that, you have to wait. But you’ll figure it out soon enough, that I promise you.” He nodded once, taking a few turns before ending up on a bumpy dirt road. He was familiar with the backroads of every place, it seemed. He always would guide the dismantled circus through the dirt roads and such, it simply made things easier for him. Besides, it was cheaper to set up all his things on an empty dirt lot.

Story idea about the dead dude

So, apparently, I had it flipped when I was telling you guys. The dead guy is the hero of the story. The ideas for it came flooding back when I read this little note.

Preston Lewis  -Dead Guy, generally unimportant to most people, just a blur in a crowd of people, maybe depressed

Randall Hughes – Loner, finds Preston, thought he was a better friend than Preston actually thought

Preston is a 43 year old man, not in the best health but a generic man, ethnicity is unimportant. Worked in an office, 9-5 for twenty years, life is generally bleak. Had many big dreams but no drive or ability, maybe lacked the courage. Never married, no kids, no crazy stories to tell. A very good listener. Dies in his car at the office parking lot, listening to a travelling podcast about finding the courage to chase his dreams on repeat, likely burnt to a CD as he was an old fashioned man, didn’t like technology that much. His car was nothing fancy, white but needed a wash, cracking leather seats, one window broken and taped up, fast food wrappers on the ground. 

Randall is 24, low man on totem pole. Beta male, easily. Identifies with Preston and sees him as a success due to low expectations, mostly, or poor role models growing up. Skinny, quiet, an easy target for overly confident folks or those that are mean spirited.  He is clinically depressed, has a history of outlandish behaviors as a teenager, actually a highschool drop out due to behavioral reasoning. He has since mellowed but can be impulsive. Has no pets, watches lots of movies, no family he is willing to claim, no real friends except for Preston. When around Preston, he tries to make his friend laugh, enjoys hearing his dreams, has him on a pedestal that is almost unhealthy but he tries very hard not to cross any lines.

Snape's One Shot (idk when I wrote this lmao it was at least 12 years ago)

The grounds of Hogwarts in summer always were so inviting. The grass a dark, vibrant green, the air warm. All of the students had returned home to be with families and give the teachers a chance to prepare for the new year, but even the teachers enjoyed the summer season, all except one.

Professor Snape always hid, locked away in his dungeon classroom, ruefully getting things in order. He currently sat at his desk, grumbling as he shuffled papers, pondering what potions he would try to make tonight. He only left for meals and he got bored. He let his mind drift to the students he loathed so as he organized. He scowled, recalling one in particular. The son of the woman he loved, Harry James Potter. Oh, how he hated that boy for his arrogance, his mother's eyes..his ass of a father's looks.

See, when Snape was a student, he was bullied by James Potter and his friends. Lily was his only friend, up until that Potter targeted her and she fell. Anyway, if Snape hadn't sworn to the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, that he would protect the Potter boy, he wouldn't mind letting him get injured, hexed, the sorts. He stood up, frowning. He needed to get out of the dungeon, take his mind off of Lily and Potter. "I swear, I'll lose my mind if Potter decides to be defiant again this next year." He frowned "I think I'll go outside today." He sulked to the door and opened it, stepping into the corridor.

He frowned again as Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, zoomed past, levitating himself. Flitwick froze and backed up. "Severus! It's wonderful to see you out and about! You should go see the fairies on the Quidditch field! They are reflecting the light, glowing gold as they play!" Snape sneered at him "I've got better things to do than watch little pixies ruin the field."

He felt slightly triumphant as Flitwick frowned "Well...alright, Severus, suit yourself." He zoomed away, grumbling to himself. Snape stalked into the Great Hall, sighing as he looked up, expecting to see some sun or something, but, alas, the ceiling was grey. No one had enchanted it today. He hurried out of there and paced, wondering if he should go outside.

He looked around and, since he saw no one, decided he would go look at the Quidditch field. He slowly walked out onto the field, shielding his eyes from the light the fairies reflected. He blinked a few times, marveling at their beauty. They must have caught him staring, because they all gravitated towards him and started poking and lightly tugging on his sleeves, tickling him. He laughed and for once in his life, it wasn't full of mirth. He playfully swatted at them, still laughing until he heard a noise behind him. He whirled around and spotted the groundskeeper, Hagrid with professor Flitwick.

Apparently they had come to see the fairies as well. They both had these large grins on their faces as Snape looked surprised. "Um.." Hagrid laughed "S'alright, Snape. We all need to 'ave a lil' bit of fun with them fairies." Flitwick nodded in agreement, which just infuriated Snape more. "I wasn't having fun with them! They were being pests!" He smacked one that was trying to tug his sleeve and then scowled at the fairy. "Bloody pests..." He sulked back into the castle without looking back and quickly made his way to his dungeon, slamming the door behind him.

He sat down at his desk and thought long and hard before he pulled a peice of parchment from a drawer and an ink pot. He took a writing quill off of his desk, took the topper off the ink pot and began writing something on the parchment. He quickly finished whatever he was writing, blew on the paper and then folded it, slipping it into an envelope and sealing with a wax seal. He turned it over once the wax set and wrote 'Lily' on the front. He then stood up and walked over to a trunk, pulled out his wand and with a swish, it popped opened, revealing many letters addressed to Lily.

He dropped the letter in his hand, watching it float in, resting on top of the others and smiled before he closed the truck with another wave of his wand. He went back to his desk, put the stopper back on the ink pot, and leaned back. "Now what to do tomorrow?"

Unnamed Story (March 2015)

What’s death like? I honestly don’t know. I mean, maybe I should, as I’m, ya know, DEAD, but I’m clueless. It happened pretty quickly. I just turned around and there he was. His frantic eyes flashed and I felt some odd pressure on my gut, then some warmth…before it all went cold.

Nah, I’m just kidding. It was way more involved than that. It initially felt like someone kicked me so hard that the wind rushed from my lungs. I couldn’t catch my breath and felt a moment of panic. A ringing started in my ears and began to grow deafening. I thought I screamed. I thought I pushed him away. I honestly didn’t even realize I was dying until the tunnel vision began to set in.

All of a sudden, the panic faded away completely. I still couldn’t catch my breath but I didn’t want to. I felt kind of heavy, my knees buckling under the weight of my body. The force of my dead weight felt like someone was pushing down on my head to get me on the ground.
I could feel my bare legs getting caught on the gravel of the street but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t sting, it didn’t feel like anything I knew. It just…was. After the rocks in my knees, my hip hit the street followed by the rest of my body, almost in slow-motion.

With my remaining sight, I watched him drop the knife that he had plunged into me, the silver blade dripping with my dark blood catching a glint of the moonlight before it hit the pavement. He turned and ran into the pitch blackness of the night, my sight failing me completely when he was only a few feet away.
I couldn’t hear anything…I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t feel anything anymore but I was still there. Waiting. What was supposed to happen now? Was a bright light supposed to sweep my soul off to some mystical paradise or would burning flames scorch my flesh eternally after sucking me into the Earth’s core?

I remember thinking ‘Why did I even get out of bed today?’ and still, nothing changed. I just sat in darkness. I wasn’t scared though. I mean, what was the worst that could happen? I was already dead as far as I knew.

Maybe I should explain how I ended up dead, but, frankly, that was a boring story that has no happy ending. I didn’t even really know who killed me. I suppose that’s not the important part. I’m still hanging around when I should be gone forever.
While waiting for whatever’s next, all I can think is how there was so much more for my life. I didn’t tell my family I loved them enough even when I hated their stupid faces. I didn’t put my best foot forward when it came to my schooling or even my crappy summer jobs. I just coasted, figuring I would always have time later.
Yeah, nope. Still not too concerned. Maybe I am a sociopath or something. I’m literally dead and I couldn’t care about anyone, not even myself.

Ugh. Dead for what feels like forever and still nothing. Is this my punishment for my apathy? That would suck but not really.


Well, while I’m waiting, maybe I should introduce myself a bit.
My name is, or, was, Penny. I was seventeen and at the height of my teenhood. I think. I wasn’t too popular but I wasn’t an outcast. I liked my life. I lived with my mom and her boyfriend. He was practically my dad, been around forever but he never wanted to do the marriage thing.

Nine Lives (June 2017)

How dare this giant humiliate me in such a way. Again, the human ward I was charged to sent me away to her as a punishment for simply existing. I never asked to be sent to the woman! I do not even know WHY I must protect her. Perhaps this life is to be a miserable mark on my mind.

The little giant my human sent me to is a familiar face in an even more familiar dungeon.

The entire place smells of misery and the tears of beasts. Hair that has been ruthlessly taken from cats and dogs of all walks of life litter the ground every visit. I never see the same face twice. Dogs are locked in cold cells, crying as they ponder their fate.

Today, I am here again. I do not understand why. The human sends me to the land of the blue giants far too often. They lock me in a cell, they cut off my nails, my true line of defense, and they glue silly fake nails over them, as if I would not notice the humiliation.
The littlest giant is the one I am given to every time. Perhaps she is a child of the giants? Her red hair is like fire, only matched by the franticness of her eyes. Those eyes, they hold true insanity as she pulls me from what I have learned to be my transportation cell. I cannot truly help myself as a flicker of hope rises in my belly as the little giant removes the slaves marker from around my neck and puts it somewhere, hidden away from my sight.


I begin to move, quickly taking in my surroundings as other giants walk past the little one, some talking at me in strange voices, some touching my most sacred parts. Why must they molest my belly? Rage fills my tiny frame as I begin to tremble, plotting my escape at the littlest giant places a noose ‘round my throat before carrying me to a platform she ties me to.
I know what it is coming. ‘Stop this! Let me go!’ I protest but the giant just replies in nonsense to my cries. I think she mocks me. I flatten myself as I feel the platform move beneath my paws. She pulls me close, despite my best efforts to keep from her arms, and she takes hold of my paws. With a skilled press on my paw, she has exposed my hidden weapons!

‘Please! Release me!’ My pleas fall on deaf ears and I watch the giant take these terrible scissors from thin air. She moves quickly and my nails are cut down to nubs. I struggle against her hold, even though I know it is futile. What irony is this? I cannot save myself in this life. I eventually stop struggling as the disgusting, plastic nails are glued onto my paws. I do not understand this barbaric action but it is not unfamiliar.

My claws are gone and replaced by these frauds. The giant scoops me into her arms, touching my belly as she does so. I have to swallow my disgust, knowing the worst is still to come. Soon enough, I am in a cold room with no ceiling. The noose has been tied around my arms in some sort of straight jacket to contain me. They know I am a threat. The giant holds onto my ties before she takes the yellow snake and gives it a squeeze.

I cannot help but scream as the cold water soaks to my skin. ‘Stop this! I am Cattila! I will end you!’ I roar in shock, using what little fight I have in me to lunge at the giant but she stops me mere inches from her face with a quick tug on the jacket and I am on the floor, panic filling me. I try to attack her again but she is too fast for me, staying just out of reach as another burst of water hits my face.

If only she truly knew who she tortured…then perhaps she would respect my authority! But, alas, I am no longer than war general I was. That life is over, in the worst way. I was known as Cattila the Kit. The name sent fear into the hearts of cats and dogs in every land until I was just another casualty of the Great War, a sky assassin taking me out.
Now I am known as Lucy, the cat that is kept in a house with people I must protect, or defeat, despite their best efforts to tame me.
Dress me in pink, remove my claws, but you cannot kill the warrior in my heart. No matter how many times the giant will torture me, I will not succumb. This life will not be wasted. I have much to do before my next assignment but I fear what comes after that, as my Ninth Life approaches.

Darkness (June 2017)

         Chapter 1

“Jamie, if I have to tell you to go to bed again, I’m going to spank you.” Amelia Roberts glowered over her book from the couch at the little five year old boy who stood in monster truck pajamas before her. 

“But Mommy, I promise, there’s a monster in my room! She’s hiding in my closet.” Jamie’s lip trembled. “You have to tell her to go away.”

“Jamie, I’m not go-“

“Daddy would.” He stared at his mother.

Amelia closed her book, glancing at the silver wedding band around her finger before setting the book on the couch and standing. “Okay, Jamie.” She took his small hand in hers, smiling a little at his brown curls and dark brown eyes. He was the spitting image of her late husband, albeit, much smaller. With a sigh, she led the way to his room.

When they reached their destination at the end of the hall, Amelia brushed her hands against the light switch, his car themed bedroom lighting up. She pulled Jamie along to his race car bed, scooping him up to set him on the bed.

“Now, where is she?” She placed her hands on her hips, a serious tone to her voice.

Jamie pointed to his closet, crawling under the blanket nervously.

Amelia stood straight up, looking at the closet door. “Don’t worry, Jamie. I’ll make her go away.” She took the few steps to the door, carefully pulling it open with a creak.  She stuck her head in, gently pushing aside some of his clothes. “I don’t see her, Jamie.”

“She doesn’t like the light…”

“Right, silly me.” She shut the closet door before walking back to the light switch, Jamie’s little car nightlight flickering on. She then made her way back to the closet, pulling open the door.  

Suddenly, a terrified scream came from Jamie. 

Amelia tensed, quickly turning around to see what had caused such fear. 

The little boy sat with his blanket up, his eyes the only thing visible on his face. His attention was locked on the ceiling. 

Amelia shifted her gaze up, a feeling of doom overcoming her. While she saw nothing, she knew something horrible was nearby. She slowly looked back at the closet; the boy’s clothing moving around with a phantom breeze.

Then, his nightlight popped, leaving the two in complete darkness.  Jamie began sobbing hysterically. “M-Mommy?!”

“I’m right here, sweetie. It’s okay!” She took a step toward his bed when she tripped over a lump. The trip sent her to the floor, the wind rushing from her lungs. 

She struggled to catch her breath as she glanced over her shoulder, in hopes to make out a familiar shape, but she could see nothing. “W-what?” She crawled forward, gripping his blanket to pull herself up. 

Before she could even get to her knees, something heavy landed on her back, sending her back to the ground. Jamie continued to scream, fed only by Amelia’s horrified shriek.  

The room suddenly fell silent, the weight never leaving her back. She tried to call out to Jamie, tell him to run, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Then, without any warning, Amelia was flipped onto her back and a foul smell leaked into her nose while the mass from her back traveled to her stomach

Her eyes frantically searched the darkness, still unaware of who, or what, was doing this. As her eyes finally seemed to adjust, Amelia could recognize the shape of a dark figure sitting on her. The figure looked to be no bigger than Jamie. 

Amelia’s entire body froze as the figure, though small, radiated a kind of evil she never could have imagined. The figure leaned forward, tiny claws clutching at Amelia’s shirt as the face got closer. 

She felt something wispy brush against her face, sending a violent shiver down her spine. “P-please…don’t…” The face came close enough that Amelia could vaguely make out the features. The eyes blended perfectly into the dark, pitch black and cold. 

Amelia could only think that this figure was a young girl, Jamie’s age, if that. The girl continued leaning in, her soft lips slowly opening as if to speak. If Amelia hadn’t known better, her first thought would have been to consider this child an angel of sorts, the features delicate and fair in the darkness.

The girl paused, her claws, another reminder of the child’s unholy being, tearing at the fabric of Amelia’s shirt. Amelia let out another scream, only to be silenced by a low, angry growl.

In a flash, the girl’s face was right against Amelia’s, their noses just barely brushing. A scowl formed on the girl’s lips, shaking her head in such a way that almost seemed to be disappointment. 

The girl opened her mouth, the putrid smell from before assaulting Amelia’s senses, causing her to retch. But this time, the girl didn’t stop. She continued opening her mouth, wider and wider until it almost seemed as if she would try to swallow Amelia whole. Faced with this unnatural terror, Amelia stared blankly into the girl’s mouth. It seemed to be a never-ending pit, little razors running all along her mouth, seemingly to move on their own, shifting in anticipation. 

Amelia began to scream again, a demonic roar shattering Jamie’s bedroom window as the creature attacked, viciously gnawing and tearing.

Jamie ducked under the covers as the horrid sounds flooded his ears and his mind. Even in the darkness, he knew this creature was devouring his only defense. Tears of dread poured down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, the squelching and crunching, though muffled, continued to pierce his  brain. 

“No…NO!”

                            Chapter 2

“Jamie! Wake up, babe. It’s okay, you’re just having a nightmare.” Cold hands shook Jamie’s arm, the now grown man shooting up in his bed, panting heavily. Panic seized him as his brain took in the darkness, sending him back twenty years to that fateful night where his mother was brutally slaughtered. 

His bare chest rose and fell with each labored breath, frantically searching the pitch black, wincing when a small light clicked on. 

“Baby, I promise, it was just a bad dream.” The soft voice beside him tried desperately to calm him. He glanced over, relief relaxing him as he took in the gentle features of Rachel, the woman he loved more than life itself.

 Her strawberry blonde hair fell in front of her worried eyes, a warmer brown than his. She slipped her arms around him, wearing his black-shirt as pajamas, as she usually did. 

Jamie rubbed his face with one hand, exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry, Rach. I…” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay. Really, I’m more worried about you. The dreams are getting worse.” She frowned, looking up at him.

He avoided her gaze, still weary from the visions that haunted his past. 

After his mother’s death, Jamie could never stand the dark. As he grew, it was easier for him to pretend, though terrors leaked into his dreams most nights. 

He never burdened Rachel with his dreams, despite her prying. She knew not of the creature that troubled his memories.

“No, they’re not getting worse. I promise. I just… I’ll be fine.” He glanced at the clock, bright green numbers reading ‘4:21.’ He sighed. “Well, I have to get up in an hour anyway.” He kissed the top of her head. “Try and sleep a little more. I need a shower.”

Rachel sighed heavily, releasing him reluctantly. “Alright, Jamie, if you say so.” She shifted under the covers, lying back though she didn’t take her eyes off of him. 

Jamie ran both of his hands through his dark curls before gripping the covers, moving them off his legs, standing. He adjusted the waistband on his shorts, quietly shuffling into the bathroom.

He flicked on the bathroom light, shutting the door only once the room was illuminated. He peered into the mirror, noting the sickly look to his face. He leaned forward to get a better look. He had always been pale, his dark hair and eyes making it worse. 

He rubbed his chin where he had a small patch of hair growing in, sighing.  He didn’t particularly like the facial hair, but Rachel did. More than once was he tempted to shave it off just to spite her after an argument, but he never could.

Stepping away from the mirror, he straightened the towels before letting the shower run.  He knew it was going to be a bad day.

                             Chapter 3

 Jamie pulled up to the office an hour and a half later, parking in a spot that had a sign, which read ‘Mr. Roberts.’

 The sun was out, birds chirping pleasantly as they awoke.

 He barely noticed.

 He clicked off the radio, which had simply been white noise the entire trip, glancing around before grabbing a suit jacket and a black leather suitcase.

 Jamie quickly glanced in the rearview mirror to adjust his tie when he saw an all too familiar figure in the backseat.

 His heart skipped a beat, blood chilling in his veins as he saw the evil little girl reach out.

 He choked out a cry, pushing open his door and falling from the car. He then kicked the door shut before jumping to his feet, whirling around to face the empty vehicle.

 Breathing heavily, he forced himself to calm down. He had simply imagined her after the nightmare, that’s the only logical explanation. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t real. 

 No. A shudder ran down his spine as he turned from the car, shuffling toward the office building. He knew, deep in his soul, that she was real. He wasn’t crazy, at least, not when she first showed her wicked face before tearing his mother apart.

  Draping his suit jacket over the arm holding the briefcase, he felt eyes on him.

  But he found that he was too scared to look at anything beside his feet, using his free hand to reach for the door. A familiar ‘whoosh’ sound greeted his ears as the door easily opened. 

  Jamie stepped inside as soon as he could, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Good morning, Mr. Roberts.” The secretary offered a warm smile, her light brown hair pulled into a loose bun on the back of her head. She wore a plain black dress, a red shrug pulled over her shoulders. 

  Her long nails clicked as she typed on her chunky keyboard, her fair face almost always giving Jamie a strange feeling. Her features were slightly oriental, but her creamy looking skin always made him think of a breathing doll. Her surprisingly wide eyes didn’t help.

  “Good morning, Teresa.” He offered a weak smile, trying to shake his discomfort. He walked over to her desk, setting his briefcase down to slip his jacket on.

  “Jamie, you look awful. Nightmares again?” Teresa frowned slightly, tugging at her little coat. Despite the fact that her features disturbed him, he had grown fond of her. She was fun.

  He heaved a sigh. “Yeah. Woke Rach up again. I feel bad knowing that she didn’t go back to sleep, as usual.”

  “Have you thought about maybe talking to a therapist? I’ve never met someone who had nightmares as often as you do. More often than not, the therapist figures out that nightmares are caused by scary images placed into the minds of small children before they’re old enough to register that they’re just images. They’re haunted.”

  Jamie scoffed. “Trust me, scary movies didn’t do this to my dreams.” Scary movies did nothing for him, never even causing slight suspense. He had seen the face of fear at such a young age, nothing could compare.

  Teresa rolled her eyes, looking back to her computer screen. “Sure. Bet you anything you walked in on your mom watching Chucky or something when you were three.”

  He scoffed again, picking up his briefcase after buttoning his jacket. “No. See you later.” He nodded to her, shuffling to the elevator. He pressed his thumb against the ‘UP’ button, his reflection quite clear on the chrome doors. He studied his appearance while waiting for the door. 

  There she was. His heart sank to his feet, the little girl standing beside Teresa’s desk, her hair covering her eyes. His eyes widened as she slowly reached out to the secretary, gently stroking the woman’s cheek. 

  Paralyzed with fear, Jamie could only watch as Teresa absentmindedly brushed her own hand against her cheek, as if pushing aside a stray piece of hair. 

  “Teresa!” He turned around, his voice strangled  as his briefcase thudding against the floor, his grip releasing when he didn’t see the little girl anymore. 

  “What, Jamie? Jeez, you look like you saw a ghost. Are you sure you’re not sick?” She looked concerned, reaching for the phone. 

  “N-no, I’m fine. I just…” He quickly picked up his briefcase. “Never mind.” He turned back around, seeing the elevator doors waiting for him. 

  He stepped into the empty elevator, swallowing hard. As soon as the doors closed, he ran his free hand through his hair. “Come on, Jamie…don’t do this again.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the single ‘ding’ that alerted his arrival to the top floor. He was terrified to look at the reflective walls. He knew she was there. He could feel her.

  Lost in his horror-filled memories, the familiar sound nearly gave him a heart attack. He gasped loudly, clutching at his chest as the doors opened.

   He shook his head quickly, hurrying out of the elevator onto the floor filled with cubicles. He walked past a few rows, ignoring greetings and glances. Once he reached his own, he ducked inside, slamming his briefcase down.  

  Jamie dropped into his seat, holding his head in his hands. “Pull it together, man…”

  He sat in silence for a few moments before he glanced at his desk surface, his computer waiting to be booted up. 

  A sticky note rested on the screen.

   He frowned, looking at the one word message. ‘Closet.’ He growled in annoyance, pulling the sticky note down before crumpling it into a tiny ball, flicking it away from him.

   Beside the monitor was a picture, one of his favorites.

  It was a large oak tree and at the base was Rachel, her arms attempting to wrap around it. She wore a yellow sundress, her hair falling down her back, and a pleased expression as she peered up the tree. Jamie had managed to climb some of it, peering down at her from about eight feet over her head. He clung tightly to a thick branch, a not-so-thrilled look on his face.

  Jamie took a deep breath before pressing the power button to awaken his computer, sitting up straight. He needed to distract himself with work. He always had productive days after a nightmare. He felt it was a little ironic sometimes, but with having nightmares frequently, it meant good things for him.

  “I got this…” He cleared his throat, moving his briefcase to under his desk before scooting his chair in, placing a small ear piece into his ear and resting his hand on his computer mouse.

                              Chapter 4

  After work, Jamie simply sat in his car, nervously looking around his driveway. He could see that the sun was beginning to set, turning the blue sky into a rosy orange that made him want sorbet.  

 He knew he should go inside, greet Rachel with a kiss and then inquire about dinner, as he usually did. But he dreaded the questions she would ask him about his day. She would see the fear in his eyes, she would catch the nervous twitch in his fingers.  

 With a sigh, he unbuttoned the jacket button, grabbing his briefcase before stepping out. He slammed the car door to announce his arrival, slowly walking to the large red-stained wooden door with a silver knob. 

 Looking at his feet, he saw the ‘Welcome’ mat that Rachel had picked long ago. He smiled softly, his eyes tracing the dragonfly that decorated the mat. Rachel loved dragonflies, almost more than she loved Jamie. He couldn’t help but laugh at the thought, relaxing slightly as he grabbed his keys from his jacket pocket, inserting a key that had a Doctor Who logo topper and turning it, listening to the lock disengage before pushing open the door and stepping inside.

“M’home, Rach.” He set his briefcase down, closing and locking the door behind him as the aroma of Rachel’s famous Family Balls and pasta(something Jamie was always amused by though he favored the dish over his own family’s spaghetti) greeted him warmly.

 He couldn’t help but smile lightly as he loosened his tie, walking toward the kitchen to find her hunched over the oven, working diligently with her headphones on. 

 She was mouthing the lyrics to one of her favorite songs, completely oblivious to him as she danced a little, consulting a recipe card every few seconds.

 Jamie smirked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her, waiting to see if she would turn to see him. He absolutely loved it when she got so caught up in her own little world, closing out all the dark as she often did, focused solely on her passions like he never could.

 After a few minutes, she must have caught a flash of him from the corner of her eye and looked over with a startled yelp. “Jamie!” She exhaled sharply, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath.

 He just laughed, moving over and crouching in front of her, removing her headphones. “Don’t die on me now, that would make for a bad night.”

 She gave him a mildly irritated look, pushing his face away. “Don’t scare me like that, I almost peed myself.” She straightened up. “How long were you standing there?”

 “Eh.” He shrugged. “Not too long.” He studied her face for a moment, taking her in. The mere sight of her made the darkness of his day fade. It made him feel better, made him forget the horrors of his mind.

 “You smell like the office. Go clean yourself up, dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Rachel nodded with a smile, finally settled after the startle. “Go, I can handle this.” She leaned over, placing a quick peck on his cheek before sending him away.

 As Jamie walked away, a warm feeling sat in his chest, smiling lightly as he walked up to their bedroom to get himself ready for the quiet night in with the love of his life, all his uneasy feelings gone as if they had never even been there.

                            Chapter 5

  Rachel slept on her belly, Jamie’s warm arm around her, keeping her close. The faint glow from the clock read 2:48, the room otherwise dark as the night continued on. The night had been uneventful, Jamie putting his horrific encounters in the back of his mind, keeping every bit to himself to keep from scaring or worrying her.

 She stirred a bit as Jamie’s arm slipped off of her, as the man shifted, likely rolling over and pulling the sheet off of her bare, chilled legs, her sleep shorts offering no warmth. She grumbled, one hand lazily reaching to find the fabric to return it to her. “Mrrf.” When a fabric brushed her fingertips, she lightly gripped to pull it back, finding it was stuck.

 “Ugh, Jamie.” She sighed, rubbing her face before sitting up to wrestle the sheet back, opening one eye to see a pair of tiny feet attached to tiny legs standing on the bed, right on the corner of sheet she had caught. The feet radiated cold, the skin almost gray, the toenails dirty and bloodied. 

  Opening the other eye, Rachel followed the legs with her eyes, seeing a little girl standing in the bed, face turned to her as if she was staring but her black, wispy hair hid her features. She wore a tattered nightgown, cream or off-white, the entire thing giving Rachel an eerie feeling.

  She swallowed hard, withdrawing her hand as she stared. “Oh, this is not a good dream…wake up, Rachel…” She whispered, finding that she couldn’t blink or move, barely able to mumble her words. To her knowledge, Jamie was still asleep next to her but a terrible feeling caused her heart to sink to her stomach as the girl took one step closer to the woman.

 “No! Go away!” She covered her eyes and closed her eyes, trying to convince herself to wake  up, her breathing becoming labored as terror clouded her thoughts.

 A minute passed, Rachel hesitantly opening her eyes to see the girl had vanished. She lowered her hands, sighing softly. “That was way too real, Rach.” She brushed her fingers through her tangled hair, leaning back against the headboard. She then glanced over at the clock. 2:53.

 “Ugh, that’s no good.” She glanced over to see Jamie turned to his side, hogging the sheet, his soft breathing letting her know that, for once, he was actually asleep. She smiled softly, laying down and shifting to her side to peer off the bed into the dark. Instead of emptiness, she saw the girl’s face inches from her own, a deep growling sound coming from the small throat.

  The horrifying eyes were black as the darkest night, a cold, evil glint in them, her innocent features corrupted by black lips that began to part, the growl growing louder as sharp teeth were exposed, dripping with a gray liquid. As the girl continued to open her mouth, rows of pulsating razors greeted Rachel’s sight, the maw never ceasing to grow.

 Rachel opened her mouth to scream in terror but a roar cut her off, the girl striking like a snake, teeth and unseen claws tearing into the flesh of her face and belly. No words were uttered to plead for help or saving, the vicious monster seeing to that.

 The growling caused Jamie to wake, the familiar crunching of bones causing him to shoot out of the bed with a yelp. He whirled around to see the girl perched on Rachel’s stomach, cracking her chest open as blood stained the sheets and Rachel’s body, her face viciously chewed off of her skull, as if the girl had opened her maw and bit the front of Rachel’s face right off, the scene too gruesome for him to process.

 The girl turned to look at him, blood and, what looked to be fleshy parts, dripping from her jaws. She dropped Rachel, standing and facing him. A faint whisper came from her, Jamie staring in horror. She repeated herself a few times before launching herself at him with a monstrous roar. 

 His heart jumped into his throat, ducking to avoid her, her claws catching his shoulder as she crashed into the window, the glass shattering out into the yard while a few shards fell onto Jamie. He jumped up after a moment, looking out of the window in hopes to see the girl, broken glass the only thing in his sight.

 “NO!” Agony and fear overtook him as he gripped the window pane, knowing the girl would be back again. He knew what sat behind him, he couldn’t look again.

  The smashing of the window and his shout had gotten the attention of the neighbors he assumed as a police car stopped in front of his home shortly after, Jamie still petrified and frozen in the spot, trembling.

 “Sir? Are you alright? What happened here?” The cop called up, stopping just before the broken glass, looking to be an older man, heavyset with a thinning hairline. A hand rested on his holster, the officer getting a few vibes from the situation he didn’t like. “Sir? Can you hear me? Did you break the window?”

  “I…I need help…I think she’s dead…”

  “What? Sir, who’s hurt?”

  “She’s not hurt! She’s dead!” He shouted before collapsing under the window in broken sobs. He could hear the officer call for backup, followed by the front door being broken down. Heavy footsteps on the stairs were the last thing Jamie heard before the darkness took over his mind.