Deer in the headlights (Zak Bagans story)

Survival of the fittest

"I'm sorry Dan, I gotta head back to mine. I'll call Billy and tell him to cover me"

"You.. you alright, dude?" Dan quit the lecturing and grew concerned. Unfortunately, I had no time for his concern. I simply could not focus when I had replays of last night running through my head like a movie on loop. There was only one other person who could share that experience with me, and it certainly wasn't Dan.

Georgia -

"Wake up! Come on, wake up!" my body was being shook by a small, bony hand. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I wasn't in the comfort of Zak's bed for a king, nor was I in the company of Zak, I was sprawled across the couch with vomit on the black shirt and a pasty white female prodding at my sides. "Get up!" she pulled me up by the shoulder.

"What the fuck happened?"

"You fainted, okay? And guess who had to peel you off the kitchen floor?" she showed no signs of sympathy or compassion, it was obvious how much she hated me.

"Are you on fucking drugs or something? Look at yourself! You have fucking vomit down your... Is that Zak's shirt?" the green in her eyes morphed into a mint-green as she scowled down at me. I looked down at the shirt then at my shaking hands. The sharp and grimace stare began to fade as she watched my hands tremble, it was as if she knew something that I didn't. "Get upstairs, quick. I'll clean up your mess. Zak'll be back soon. He'll be pissed off if he finds his house covered in stomach acid" for a girl of 19, she was a vulgar bitch!

Zak -

'And when she did that thing with her hips...' my head was drowning in nothing but the events that took place the night before, I just couldn't stop thinking about her and it was beginning to hurt with each and every recall. The scratch marks down my back made the demonic attacks look weak and feeble in comparison, the car's seats rubbed and pressed against them, encouraging me to wince and gasp. It wasn't until I had got into the front door, did I realise something wasn't right. The atmosphere was thick yet the house seemed empty.

"Georgia? Grace?" No answer. The sound of coughing was my nearest reply. I dropped my keys and shot through the house into the kitchen, it was Jocelyn. She was bent over by the glass doors, her body tensing and lunging forward. I quickly ran over to her to find that she had thrown up everywhere! "Oh Zak you're back, it was awful" she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.

"Where's Georgia?" she soon loosened her grip and prized herself from my chest, her breathing was heavy but slow. She didn't smell of vomit either. "Upstairs" she mumbled in one breath "But I'm going to need some medical attention... I'm... I'm" Jocelyn was no concern of mine, I paid her to help with my appointments not to projectile vomit in my yard.

With no time to waste, I galloped up stairs with the expectation being Georgia still asleep. My bed was vacant but the bathroom door was open a jar. "Sweetie?"

"In...here" her words were muffled and barely audible. Before I could push the door, she pulled it back, smiling with a toothbrush in her mouth. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to find my little present" she walked over to me and kissed me with her minted lips "thank you, by the way". The evolution of that woman was incredible, she was so strong and independent. I took her by the hand and noticed her trembling, she pulled back quickly. "Are you o-"

"Zak! A call from Billy!" Jocelyn called out from the ground floor. I turned back around just as Georgia was stepping into the shower. "I'll be down stairs Gee" without a reply, I hurried down to the phone.

Georgia -

That was timing. I didn't want Zak to find me in the condition that I was in, he would have fussed too much. I felt a lot better after that little epidemic but I was concerned with what that Jocelyn might have up her sleeve now that she was in the know. I spent very little time in the shower, I felt the need to be with Zak 24/7. I was craving his company so much that I tiptoed down stairs with nothing but a towel and my hair still dripping wet. He was no where to be seen; I checked the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the games room but there was one room that I had missed out. The black door...

I was told not to open the doors upstairs but he didn't specify the doors downstairs. I wrapped my fingers around the frosted white door knob, it was easier than the others to turn, the door frame was small and very dated; it looked older than the rest of the house. I twisted and pushed until...click! It opened.

A cold draft blew my hair as it escaped the room. There were no windows and it was almost pitch black, a small Victorian lamp to the right was keeping the room a glow. Next to this lamp was a leather armchair and a bookcase. 'Is this his reading room?' I thought to myself. The sounds from outside were muted and everything was enclosed. My small strides took me to the bookcase and my fingertips trailed along the spines of the decrepit and feeble books. One book stood out from the rest; Bram Stoker's Dracula, The 1897 classic edition. Hooking my finger on the top of its spine, I pulled towards me. The book was tough to budge but I managed to seperate it from the many others. The moving of this rustic novel was followed by a click and a sliding sound. I stepped back in fright as the bookcase proceeded to move, the strange contraption was pivoting on the spot.

"Ho-ly shit!" seconds later, I was faced with a doorway, a smell of damp and cold stone filled my lungs, and a faint dripping sound rang in my ears. I could no longer feel the Vegas heat and with my wet skin, I started to shake and tremor. There wasn't a single, knowledgable essence of what I might find... Zak? Something darker? The only thing to do was to take three more steps in...