Claimed

Chapter One

Chapter One

 The blade gleamed against the fluorescent of lamp perched on the nightstand, throwing off reflections. She stared at the razor, perched on the edge of the nightstand; it was only a few inches from her. All she had to do was reach across and take it into her hands. Her fingers itched to touch the smooth, cool surface of the blade. The scars on her arm burning with memory of the blade slicing through the flesh of her arms.

         Tearing…breaking…making her bleed…taking away the internal pain with physical pain….

         The sharp rap on the bedroom door made her muscles tense and eyes dart from the blade to the door. If she touched it she knew, just knew, she wasn’t going to be able to let it go. But, if someone were to see the blade then they’ll know and they wouldn’t let her indulge in her nasty habit. Her heart beat flooded in her ears. She reached out. Picked up the blade, stared at it for a moment.

         The blade disappeared just as the door to her bedroom opened and her mother stepped into the tiny guest room that Grace had made her own sanctuary.  Her mother smiled at her, the smile never reaching her hazel eyes, and she closed the door behind her.

         “How are you holding on, Grace?” She asked, sitting on the edge of the twin bed.

         Grace smiled back stiffly at her mother. She couldn’t understand why mother insisted on trying to coax her into talking about her father. Grace didn’t really care—or at least she tried not to show that she cared. She saw her father leaving her for another woman as his own way of saying that he didn’t really care what happened to his daughter.

         Shaking her head slightly, Grace sighed and said flatly, “I don’t care, Mom. It’s cool. I mean, if Dad wanted her over us that’s for him to decide.”

         “Oh,” Eliza McClain said softly. She tucked a strand of her salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear and stood to her feet. “I just thought you wanted to talk about it.” She made her way to the door and opened it, but lingered for a moment. “If you want to talk about it you know I’m here for you, Grace.”

         “Yeah, Mom. I know.”

         Eliza nodded stiffly and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a snap. Grace held her breath for a few minutes before drawing out the blade from under her white duvet.  Pressing the blades edge against her pad of her thumb, Grace forced it to cut through the thick skin, then the tissue, until the blade struck a vein and blood pooled around the blade.  She pulled the blade away from the cut, placed it on her bare thigh, and watched as the blood trail down her leg.

         Grace stared at the cut for the longest of times until the stinging pain had subsided and she was left feeling empty again. She picked up the blade again, and pressed it against her forearm.

         The first cut made her gasp at the sudden burn

         The second made her smiled warily.

         Again a small voice in her head whispered.

         The razor trembled widely in her grasp. Her breathing turned ragged and hitched as cut after cut her vision began to swim in the slightest.  The blade slipped from her grasp, tumbling over the edge of the bed. Grace squinted at the trail of blood on her white duvet. A smile tugged the edges of her mouth, and she lay down on her side with a sigh.

         Sleep, she thought. I really want to sleep.

         Her eyelids grew heavier until they fluttered to a close. She tucked her torn and bleeding arm against her stomach. Her breathing grew quieter, more even as she lulled to a comatose like slumber.

         Then the nightmares resurfaced.

She was running through a forest.

    The thorns of the low brush scraped against her legs, the pain more atrocious then anything she’d ever felt in her life.  Her every breath seemed more labored as she pushed through, trying to find an opening—anything to put a distance between her and the Grimmer.

    She heard the crackling, cold laughter fill the dark void and what sounded like bone crushing under the heel of the Grimmer’s foot.  She staggered and stumbled, falling to the filthy ground. The heavy stench of decaying leaves and animal carcass filled her nostrils and the smell filled her mouth, making her gag in utter disgust.

    She rolled to her back, preparing the stand when a new pain struck her entire body. She gasped in pain and looked up to see the Grimmer staring down at her.

    His pale, skeletal face grinned down at her, exposing rows upon rows of jagged, tiny sharp teeth. His eye sockets bore down at her from behind the wide rimmed hat, casting shadows across his face. The pike in his hand looked as lethal as ever as he raises it a few feet off the ground.

    “No. Don’t,” she said in a tiny voice, trying to will her body to move but she was paralyzed.

    He gave another crackling laugh as he brought down his pike and a scream caught in her throat….

Grace sat upright in horror. Sweat trickled down her chalk white face. She trembled from head to toe, eyes glancing around her brightly light bedroom for signs of her nightmare lurking about.

         It took her some time to finally regain her senses and calm down enough to lie back down. Breathing heavily, Grace hugged her numb arms against her stomach and stared at the blood stains on the white duvet.

         She couldn’t believe it. It had been years since she had nightmares about the Grimmer, but it wasn’t seeing her childhood tormenter again that frightened her, it was how she reacted to him, how she felt as though she was really there.

          Running for her life.

         Why am I even thinking about this? She thought wearily, closing her eyes. The flickering images of the Grimmer flashed through her minds eyes, terrifying her. It was only when the sky outside her bedroom window had went from a onyx black to a dark crimson gold did Grace finally manage to wall back to sleep.