A Real Nightmare

A Taste of Fear

Chapter Two

Katerina swallowed, trying to force down the suffocating lump in the back of her throat. Was he watching her now? Her eyes darted left and right, even though logically he couldn't have been, her doors were locked as were all her windows. Who is he? What does he want from her? Why her? As question rolled about inside her skull, a massive headache began to form.

Why did she choose to go out when she knew what would happen if she did. She knew that tight feeling in the depths of her abdomen. A warning. What now? Rubbing her temples to try and ease the tension away, she sighed frustratedly, stood up and made her way upstairs and to her bathroom. She opened her mirror cabinet and grabbed the Tylenol bottle, popping the lid and pouring two into her palm and tossing them into her mouth.

As she swallowed the medicine, she looked at her tired reflection noting the stress etched onto her face. Her mind whirled, head pounded, clashing violently against her skull. She had no way to defend herself. No weapon. Flicking her eyes down to the razor on the back of the sink, she grabbed it and tore the blade free from the plastic and held it tightly in her hand. Couldn't hurt to have some sort of defense, just in case.

As she went to straighten out her now frizzy hair, there behind her stood a dark figure, peering at her from the dark. Katerina gasped and spun around, her heart was thudding so brutally against her chest, she could taste her blood on her tongue even though she hadn't bit her tongue. So much adrenalin was pumping through her, she could even smell her blood as her heart tried to keep up with her overwhelming emotions. As she stares in front of her, all she could see was darkness. No figure. No one. She was alone.

She gave a light chuckle feeling silly, "I'm losing my mind."

Kat shakily made her way into her bedroom and as she opened her closet, the sliding wooden panels creaking in protest, a chill fell over her. She could feel penetrating eyes on her. Trembling, she tried to ignore the paranoia creeping in and grabbed her pajamas and quickly went to the bathroom and changed.

When she came back out, her closet door was shut when she had left it open. She gasped softly, her eyes widening as fear trickled down her spine.

"This isn't happening. I'm sure I shut it before I changed and just don't remember doing it. Yeah. That's it." She felt pathetic, helpless and like a victim who needed a knight to save her. It was ludicrous. Biting her lip, Katerina debated checking in the closet. She gripped the razor in her palm, and with trembling fingers, grasped the silver handle on the closet door, but before she could pull the door open, a lock of her hair lifted up and a cool breath blew on the nape of her neck.

She spun around and lashed out with her razor blade, cutting nothing but air. She knew she wasn't imagining it now. There was too much happening for it to be a stress-induced delusion. How could she fight something that was there one minute and gone the next? People don't just appear and disappear.

She bristled and summoned up the courage to call out whatever it may be. Was it a ghost of her imagination? Or was it something more sinister?

"Enough with the mind games. I don't know who you are or what you want, but you have five seconds to get the hell out of my house, or be prepared to be cut open."

She narrowed her eyes peering into the shadows of her room, trying to act as if she was tough and even adding authority in her tone, while on the inside, she was a chaotic mess. You'd think she would've known better than to call out "who or whatever" it was that was lingering in her bedroom with all the horror movies she's watched. The ones who call out the psychos always die first. She needed to think rationally. She couldn't do what she thought was right, because the bimbos who usually run, end up dying a brutal death.