Dark Entries (spike)

chapter 1

There's a chill in the air, and it's far too quiet for you to be comfortable. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body. Of course, you wore a dress tonight. Usually, you wear jeans and a T-shirt to these sorts of parties, but not tonight. You wanted to look extra good tonight. You're alone, mostly because you just moved here. It's your second week of college and you've only made one friend. But she never goes out, even if you ask her to. If you die tonight, you'll blame her for not coming with you.

As you turn a corner, you feel another shiver run down your spine, but not because of the weather. The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention, and you glance over your shoulder. Nobody's following you, not that you can see. But it feels like someone's staring at you. It sets you on edge, and you feel your heart begin to beat faster. You walk down the street, trying to regulate your breathing. You feel yourself starting to panic, and you haven't even seen the person watching you. But you know they're there.

Suddenly, you hear a few quick thumps, like footsteps or something. They're fast, and very close to you. You quicken your pace, instincts kicking in. You take a look over your shoulder, trying to see if someone's behind you. You can't see anyone, but you don't relax. You still feel like someone's looking at you, watching you.

Your footsteps are loud against the pavement, and it's all because of your heels. It's annoying. Anyone within a 5-mile radius can probably hear you. You don't often wear heels, but you did tonight because of the party. Now, you wish you just wore sneakers. It's a lot easier to run in sneakers. And your footsteps would be a lot less loud.

The street you're walking along is dark, creepy. In the morning, it's lively and bright, with restaurants lining the street for the many tourists coming to visit. But it's too late, nobody's outside right now. Other than the weirdos and murderers. And you, of course. But you're not a weirdo or a murderer.

You decide to take a detour toward a more populated area. But that detour is through an alley, a very dark, very scary alley. And as you step into the alley, the feeling of being watched seems to intensify. The sound of your high heels clicking against the pavement is more ominous than annoying.

Suddenly, you hear a rustling from a dumpster you passed only a moment ago. You freeze, slowly turning around to look at the dumpster behind you. Once you realize there's nothing there, you sigh. Of course, you're being paranoid. And why wouldn't you be? Sunnydale's creepy at night. You take a deep breath.

You don't even get the chance to turn around. A man pulls you toward him by your neck, grinning at the shriek that escapes you. He pins you against his front and shoves his face in your neck, sniffing deeply. You cringe and move your head away from the man, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. But this doesn't bother or even stop him, he just continues to sniff your neck.

Again, you struggle in his grip, trying to break free and escape. He doesn't allow it. He holds you tighter, so tight that you think you're suffocating.

At that moment, a surge of adrenaline flows through you, and instinct takes over. Mustering up all the courage and strength you have, you bring your leg up and kick him in the knee as hard as you can. Momentarily, he falters and releases his grip. Using this advantage, you break free and take off down the alley. You run faster than you ever have before, even in heels. You don't have time to be impressed with yourself, not right now.

Once you're closer to the end of the alley, you see a gas station across the street. You don't have the time to sigh in relief or the lung capacity. You haven't run like this since high school PE class. Before you can step out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, you're tugged backward. You feel a sharp pain on your scalp, red hot like you've been burned or something. The man pulls you down by your hair, and you land on the pavement, right onto your back.