The Darkness That Hunts
Chapter 3

“You must have known that I would not stand by as youattempted to escape, Shari.”

His voice is soft and deadly, its chill invading my skull.It tugs at the fog of my lost memories. Familiar. A voice that promises death,a voice I never wanted to hear again.

The hound at my neck relinquishes his grip. He backs awayenough for me to watch him lick my blood from his muzzle. Wincing, I tilt myhead towards his master. The Darkness-That-Hunts. I don’t know why the namestrikes me, but it fits. Even up close, shadows swallow him and leave only hisgolden eyes distinguishable. His pupils are unnatural--rectangular like a goat.In the darkness, I cannot distinguish what he wears or even tell the color ofhis skin. He seems nothing more distinct than the night itself. Slender andtall, his movements toward me are cat-like and precise and with each step mybody thrums with malignant energy. Electric static mingles with the thickmenace that oozes off him and coats my skin like fetid water. He is not human.He was never meant to walk this world.

Before I can think too much on the revelation, the shadowssplit, revealing another smile. Beauty that masks danger. I want to scream, butfear immobilizes me.

“My pets were right. Crossing back has addled your mind.” TheDarkness-That-Hunts stops barely a yard from me and reaches out. The shadowsextending from his wrists in clawed fingers stroke the neck of the hound besidehim. The massive dog’s wedge-like tail thumps against the ground as he sitsserenely beneath his master’s affection.

It takes a moment of struggle, but I shove aside pain andfear and force my voice to work. “What do you want from me? Please--just let mego.”

I don’t believe he will, but it’s worth a try. Maybe if hekeeps talking, I can remember. Already the blockade barring my memories iscracking. Glimpses of a past I’m not sure I want to see dance just beyondsight. The man--creature? Thing?--watches me with a thoughtful expression, ifswirling shadows can display a thoughtful expression. At last he speaks.

“You are what I want. You belong to me, pet, and you will doas I command.”

At the word “command” my body stirs. The desire to obey Himis almost palpable and the alternatives for disobedience--

A tableau: Bodies, dozens, a few hanging in grotesquepositions. Some skinned, others stuffed, most left to rot on the floor liketrash. It is a garden with dead trees naked and white as snow wedged betweenstatues that were once living humans. Screeches echo into the night.

The dead are not dead.

The living are not alive.

The memory ceases as quickly as it began and I’m moreconfused and terrified than before. Wherein the hell have I been? What’s happening to me?

“You will hurry.”

His request leaves no room for debate, no room for defiance.Like a puppet on a string, my body--aching and riddled with pain--hauls itselfto its feet and in dumb, shuffling movements follows The Darkness-That-Hunts.The hounds come up to my hips and flank me on either side. The alpha trotsbefore his master, his eyes suspicious. Every few minutes he lifts his nose tothe air, tasting its fragrances, searching for what I don’t know.

My body sluggishly moves against my will. I want to fight,to flee, but I can only follow my captors up the hill.

Towards the lake.

I curse myself for not heeding the letter. The warning feelslike ice rubbing across my teeth: He isdangerous and must not replace you again.

Again.

The word pulsates in my head like a mantra. I was abductedby him . . . before. I don’t know how I know, but I know. And I know I’mwilling to die rather than go back.

“Hello, can you hear me? Anyone out there?”

The voice is faint, resonating from near the trail. Reliefwashes through me like a breath of fresh air--and I’m surprised to replace I’vestopped moving. Whatever compulsion I was under has broken. No telling how longmy newfound freedom will last. Better make it count.

“Over here!” I alert, pivoting on my good foot. Gritting myteeth against the heat that flares up my right leg, I totter towards the voice.I don’t look back to see whether or not I’m being pursued. Instead I use myrush of adrenaline to break into a mad hobble-scramble down the hill. “Help!”

A bright white light spears through the woods, searchinguntil it lands on me. Tears spring into my eyes and I forget the pain in mycalf. I risk a glance over my shoulder, expecting to replace jagged teeth inchesfrom my skull. Only rich vegetation greets me. The air is again muggy and warm,the nocturnal birds singing gently from their overhead roosts.

No sign of the hounds, no sign of The Darkness-That-Hunts.

Am I . . . crazy?

“You’re hurt.” The flashlight bobs as the person jogstowards me. We meet up at the sidewalk. His light slides over me and he gaspsin horror. I squint against the brilliance, tossing up my hand to shade my eyesso that I can see him. My age, he stands taller than me--from the looks of itroughly 5’10 or 5’11--and is muscular, his body in mint condition.

“Oh, sorry,” he says a moment after examining me. His voiceis husky, deep. He angles the light over my shoulder and then lowers it to theground.

“You’re seriously hurt. What happened?” He speaks slowly,enunciating each word with deliberate care but I have a hard time following. Itdoesn’t matter. We have to get away, before The Darkness-That-Hunts returns.

“Darkness-That-Hunts? What’s that?” Again the flashlightwobbles through the trees, probing the night. From his expression he noticesnothing unusual. My throat burns and I suspect I’ll collapse at any moment. Iclutch at consciousness with my fingernails.

“Please,” I croak, inching forward. The hairs stand up onthe back of my neck. A thick, murky sensation creeps down my spine. Thetemperature plummets and hoarfrost grows in the cracks of pinecones. “Oh, God,he’s back!”

I circle, knowing The Darkness-That-Hunts and his gianthounds are somewhere nearby, watching. Perhaps waiting for the perfect time tostrike? Again, the boy’s light curls over tree trunks and lush vegetation. Thewind bellows, the leaves and pine needles rustle. It is the only sound. Noinsects, no animals, no birds. Dead silence--as if the forest knows and it iswaiting, too.

“Don’t see anything. Look, you need medical attention. Let’sget you to the nurse--“

“No!” I wince at how shrill and harsh my voice sounds. “Wehave to go--now. Somewhere safe.” I don’t know where that is, but the furtheraway from the lake, the better our chances.

“But--”

Taking his hand I attempt to drag him away from the feelingof defilement. The boy doesn’t budge or give any indication of sensing thedanger I feel, but his attention drifts east towards the tree line surroundingthe lake. He edges in front of me, his stance defensive.

“The one who hurt you is out there? A hunter?” he whispersover his shoulder. I press myself against his back, grateful for his presencebut afraid nonetheless.

“We must go.”

He hesitates. In the darkness beyond the reach of theflashlight, I finally spot The Darkness-That-Hunts. He reclines against thebole of a tree. Nothing more than a mere shadow to the untrained eye, but Iknow better. His gaze is electric as it jerks from me to the boy incontemplation. At his hips lurk the hounds, each waiting for their master’scommand.

I can't replace the spit to swallow much less warn the boybefore me. I tug him, a whimper clawing at the back of my throat, but he is asunmovable as a mountain. Sensing my terror, the boy gazes beyond the glow ofhis flashlight and into the bushes crowding the trees.

“I don’t see anything unusual,” he says slowly, after amoment’s pause. He takes a step closer. “But I feel like something’s looking atme. And over there--an animal, maybe? But the eyes--gold. And pupils are off.Maybe if I can get closer . . .” He’s talking more to himself than me, but I stillyank on his T-shirt.

“Please, let’s go.”My grip on reality is slipping. The foulness in the air contaminates me. Afoulness that never lessens but waits. Hungers. Adrenaline drains out of me andmy legs give out.

“Whoa, there.“ The boy wraps his arms around my waist,catching me. I hiss when I accidently place pressure on my right calf. “You’reright, I need to get you some place safe--“

“No nurse,” I slur. “No nurse, please--“

“Okay, okay.” He shifts and our gaze lifts back to thedarkness beyond the light. The eyes are gone and though TheDarkness-That-Hunts’ presence lingers, I feel it weakening, receding backtowards the lake.

This brings absolutely no comfort.

“I don’t think you should walk with that leg. I can carryyou, if you want?”

My attention slowly returns to him. The light from theflashlight casts shadows across his face, but gives me a good glimpse of hisfeatures. Full lips, tinted a blush rose. His hair is thick and short and thecolor of Japanese ink. Messy, but it only emphasizes his attractiveness, hisstrong square jaw, flat nose, and high cheekbones.

It’s his slanted eyes that distract me. A stormy gray, theyroam my face as intently as mine roam his. It’s impossible to tell histhoughts, but my cheeks grow warm and my heart thuds.

Down, girl.

“O-okay.”

I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me. I’ve neverbeen carried before, and if it weren’t for the dizziness and fear, it’d seemlike a fairy tale, handsome prince and all.

Instead it’s a nightmare complete with a mentally unstablegirl who sleepwalks and sees monsters. Purposefully, he follows the pavedwalkway, cautious of our surroundings but relaxed. He seems at home here in thewilderness.

“What’s your name?” His voice shatters the silence betweenus, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s speaking to me. Swaying in hisarms, my exhaustion is almost upon me.

“Shari.”

He nods and manages a small, lopsided smile. “Kamiron--Kam.”

Kamiron. The name is comforting, anddespite myself I doze.