Pool of Crimson

chapter 16



I stood in a circle of light in my bare feet and a frilly white cotton nightgown that hit me just below the knees. I glanced down at myself and tugged at the gown with little yellow flowers printed all over it. It was hideous and definitely wasn’t mine. I couldn’t see beyond the soft circle of light that stretched around me on all sides as if it would swallow me whole.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. The sound of it seemed to echo in the void beyond the faint light surrounding me. All I could think was that I needed to breathe, not panic. I took in a deep, ragged breath. My lungs filled with frigid cold air, chilling me from the inside out. My hands trembled at my sides. I was scared, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. All of the hair on my body stood on end as something moved out in the endless darkness.

I wasn’t alone.

I was safe inside the circle. As long as I stayed inside the circle, I was safe. A noise off in the darkness caught my attention. It echoed in the void. The sound was wet, slurping, with a steady hard crack like something broke or snapped. My heart beat sped and my breath heaved in my chest as I trembled. A soft whimper filled the silence in between the slurps. I knew the whimper of pain when I heard it. I’ve made that same noise often enough as the doctors reset my bones, stitched up the gashes on my skin, or I breathed, laughed, or cried with broken ribs. I closed my eyes to shut out the sounds of pain in the darkness. The man’s whimpers changed. He called out softly for help under the sound of sloppy slurps.

My breath hitched in my throat in surprise at the guttural sound of his voice in the dark. Somewhere out in the darkness, someone was getting eaten alive.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, as fear froze me to my spot.

A soft growl from not too far away filled my small circle of safety as something wet, warm, and thick seeped in between my toes.

I didn’t want to look down.

It oozed around my foot like warm molasses. I unscrunched my eyes and looked down at the pristine white tile floor, defaced by the growing pool of crimson spreading outward around me. I stopped myself from stepping away. The dark loomed behind me. I lifted my foot up and felt the sickening pull of warm liquid, creating the tiniest bit of suction between my foot and the floor. Something hit the pool of blood at my feet and splashed the warm goo against my bare legs and the white cotton nightgown.

An ARM! A F*ckING dismembered arm lay lifeless at my feet. I took in a deep breath to scream and it caught in my throat.

The sharp snap of someone’s neck breaking filled my ears, followed by the sickening sloppy sound of flesh tearing. A head rolled into the light at my feet.

The light shimmered off jet-black hair as the full lips that I remembered kissed the pool of crimson blood on the floor. His once intense dark eyes stared back at me as faded pools of lifeless oblivion. His decapitated head sat at my feet like a gift.

Patrick’s face, frozen in a grimace of pain. His head was a foot or so away from me, half in the light and half out. My pulse beat a quick steady rhythm against my skull, filling my ears with the rush of my blood.

A soft chuckle from just beyond the circle of light startled me. My brain froze. For a moment, I thought my heart had stopped beating as well.

One furry hoof stepped into the light, followed by dark skinned legs the color of milk chocolate, thick, like tree trunks with dark, onyx-colored hair leading a path up its naked body.

The creature stepped into the light.

Standing tall, several feet taller than me, with tusks sticking up from his bottom row of teeth, almost touching his cheekbones, he smiled, revealing a garish expanse of teeth. His eyes were the color of a vibrant, well tended fire, red and burning with hunger. In the center of his forehead was a familiar tattoo that seemed to move in the light. The large red spider spread its legs across the surface of his skin. The black trident, etched in the spider’s back blazed in the light. Blood dripped from his chin and covered his bare chest. His black hair was thick and fell down his back in stringy waves. The strands of his hair were covered from scalp to end with gold beads that matched the large gold studs in his ears from lobe to the end of his cartilage.

“I’ll kill all of you and suck the flesh from your bones,” he growled.

Dread spread through me as the realization of the danger of his words sank into my skin. He could consume the world and never be full.

I turned horrified eyes up to his maliciously smiling face and froze when he lunged for me.


My eyes darted open and stung from my sweat as it seeped beneath my eyelids. I couldn’t catch my breath. My tears mixed with the beads of cold sweat covering my skin, making me shiver.

I’m alive.

It wasn’t real.

I leaned over the edge of my bed and threw up, still clutching the small amulet in my tight grasp. The burn of bile hitting my sinuses made my eyes water. A tear slid down my cheek. I opened my eyes to see how much damage I’d done. The hardwood floor and rug were covered in stomach acid and bile.

Once I’d gotten out of bed and cleaned up the mess, I didn’t want to go back to bed. Hell, I didn’t want to go back to sleep. Ever. My dreams had been hell lately, leaving me restless and filled with fear.

I glared down at my empty bed like it wasn’t safe anymore. It wasn’t the bed that wasn’t safe, it was me. I felt uneasy and trapped. It wasn’t my unease that was making my stomach churn. Patrick’s distress overwhelmed my own feelings of outright fear and revulsion. I needed to push everything, his feelings and my own, away and disappear into something that didn’t carry the ugly stain of pain and death.

I went downstairs and slid Disney’s Peter Pan in the DVD player and wrapped up in a purple fleece blanket covered in Good Luck Bear, Care Bears on the couch. As the credits rolled and the music filled my silent house, I had the feeling that I was safe again. I hummed along, just to be sure.