The apartment is just how I remember it. Cream-colored leather couch with mahogany end tables, a medium-sized television sitting on a mahogany TV stand with the stereo system beside it, along with my collection of DVDs and CDs. Pictures of my family sit on some of the shelves while more hang on the walls. I wasn’t there long, but I remember being so happy to have my own place that I had unpacked and was finished decorating within that first week.
I spin around when something catches my attention. I see myself walk out of the hallway carrying a suitcase. I set the suitcase down beside the couch and move to the pictures sitting on the shelf.
“Hello?” I call hesitantly, my voice sounding strange as it echoes throughout the room.
My other self doesn’t acknowledge me as she grabs the pictures, wraps them in bubble wrap, and places them inside a box. I walk further into the room until I’m standing beside her. When I reach out to touch her, I’m shocked as my fingers move through her arm. I look down at my hand and flex my fingers. I can see the beige carpet through them.
I glance back at the me still packing picture frames and see her smiling. It amazes me how happy and beautiful she looks as she hums a tune that sounds familiar. I listen carefully and recognize it as “It Feels Like the First Time” by Foreigner.
Once all the pictures are packed away, she grabs the box and carries it to the small dining room table, where she tapes it closed.
The doorbell rings and we both look at the door. I turn back to her and see her smile has grown to encompass her whole face. Something niggles in the back of my head, and I want to reach out and grab her as she makes her way to the door. Something isn’t right. Whatever’s on the other side of that door is evil.
“Jules!” I scream. “NOOO!”
She doesn’t hear me. As she passes by me, I try to grab her arm, but again, my hand slides through her. Time seems to slow down as she reaches the door. I watch tensely as she flips the dead bolt. Her smile is still in place she grabs the doorknob and twists. Fear and a sick feeling drop in my stomach when she pulls the door open and a shadow falls over her.
“You’re early,” she says quietly, her eyes lighting up even more.
From where I’m standing, the door blocks my view of who is on the other side, but I know something is terribly wrong when the smile slides from her face and fear replaces it.
She takes a step back, her voice trembling when she whispers, “Wh-what are you doing here?”
The shadow moves closer, and I hold my breath, waiting to see who it is. Terror freezes my ethereal form when it’s not a person who appears, or rather, not a person in solid form. It’s a silhouette, a darkness so great that it turns the air frigid and casts its shadow over everything in the room. The same silhouette that’s haunted my dreams.
It kicks the door closed then stalks closer to Jules, or the me that I’m watching, while she backs up until she hits the couch
“I’ve come to claim what’s mine,” growls the silhouette. The voice is eerie and malevolent, sending shivers down my spine. “You both made a very bad mistake, Jules. He can’t have you.”
Shock, fear, and pride fill me when Jules straightens her spine and says defiantly, “I’m already his, so fuck you. I love him. I will only ever love him. You need to give this infatuation up before you get hurt.” She lifts her arm to point to the door, and I can see the tremble she’s trying to hide. “I want you to leave! Now!”
Before she has the last word out, he’s on her and has a hand wrapped around her throat. A scream leaves my lips at his fast movement, but it’s quickly cut short. A tightness grips my neck, and I can’t draw in air. Pain like I’ve never felt before has me clawing at my throat. Stars prick my eyes, and I blink several times to try and clear my vision. The silhouette leans Jules over the back of the sofa, and I realize it’s her pain I’m feeling when his hand tightens around her neck at the same time it tightens around mine.
His voice is pure evil when he speaks next, and it sounds as if he’s actually whispering it in my ear.
“Oh, I’m leaving, but you’re coming with me… after I’ve had my turn.”
It’s then that he turns his head, and I get a glimpse of his eyes.
His electric blue eyes….
I WAKE WITH SCREAMS filling my ears. I spring up to a sitting position and realize the awful noise is coming from me. My throat feels raw and my mouth is dry. Terror grips me, and my hands automatically move to my throat, feeling the aftereffects of being strangled. Warm, rough hands grip mine and my eyes slide to Luca. The fear doubles for a moment before I sag back in relief.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Jules,” he says hoarsely. “You scared the shit out of me. You were screaming, and I couldn’t get you to stop.”
I look at him closely and see the anxiety and worry in his eyes. Eyes that match the ones in my dream. These aren’t evil though. They aren’t cold or angry. They radiate tenderness and safety. They also leave me confused.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Fuck,” he growls and hauls me into his arms. His warm embrace soothes me. His smell surrounds me and calms my quaking nerves. I rest my hand on his bare chest and feel his rapid heartbeat. I press myself closer to him and use the beat to slow my breathing.
Eventually, we both calm down. Luca pulls back and looks at me with a frown.
“What in the hell was that?”
I shiver as I remember the dark presence and what he did to the Jules I was watching. I don’t remember it happening, but I know that wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory. My hands shake as I grip the blanket in my lap and sweat breaks out across my forehead.
Wrongly interpreting my shiver as me being cold, Luca pulls the blanket around my shoulders.
“Jules, baby… what’s wrong?”
“I-I-I saw…,” I stutter. I clear my throat and try again. “The day I was hurt. I saw what happened. I was there, but I wasn’t. I saw myself open the door and there was a black presence that came in the room. He said he wanted me. He grabbed me by the throat and said he was taking me with him, but not before he had a turn.”
Tears leak down my eyes and bile rises in my throat at knowing what the dark presence meant by him taking a turn.
“Fuckin’ son of a bitch,” Luca snarls. He flings the covers off him, and I start to panic when he gets up from the bed.
“No!” I yell and reach for his arm. “Please don’t go.” My voice cracks.
He doesn’t turn back to me, but he doesn’t walk away either. He just stands there beside the bed, his chest heaving with each raspy breath he takes. My heart breaks for the both of us. I know the thought of him hurting me has broken something vital inside of him, and it kills me because I also know there’s nothing I could ever say to fix that broken part.
He sits on the side of the bed. His shoulders droop as he rests his elbows on his knees and drops his head in his hands. The grip he has on his hair has to hurt, but I think he wants the pain. His back is stiff, and I can see the quivers in his bicep as he reins in his emotions.
Cautiously, I scoot closer to him. I put a leg on each side of his hips and slide forward until they cradle his legs. My chest meets his back and my arms wrap around his stomach. I lay my head against his back. His heartbeat is just as erratic as before.
One of his hands grips mine, and at first, I think he’s going to push me away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lifts it and places it over his heart.
His voice is rough when he speaks. “It should be me comforting you. I’m a sick bastard for what I’ve done. I should be rotting in hell right now, not being comforted by the person I hurt.”
“Luca—”
“Even if you don’t remember what I did, you still shouldn’t want anything to do with me. My touch should repulse and frighten you. I fuckin’ repulse and frighten myself, because if I’ve hurt you in the past, I’m capable of doing it again.”
“Stop!” I demand. I try to pull my arms free so I can move around him and see his face, but he holds me in place.