The Vessel

Chapter 1

The footsteps and crackling of dead leaves grew louder and louder. She closed her eyes afraid of what she was about to see. The footsteps were now right in front of her.

Then it stopped.

She could feel the charged dark intents. The twisted excitement of her stalker tangible.

A cold breath trailed down her neck, making her suck in a sharp breath. Then, a pair of cold hands softly carressed her cheeks. One hand trailed down to the side of her head grabbing onto a clump of hair forcing it to slightly tilt, and the other around her frail neck. She fought the strong urge to open her eyes.

The steady breathing was now blowing down her left ear. Then the breathing completely stopped and somehow she felt relieved. But still she did not dare to open her eyes. She was right not to, because a menacing voice chuckled malevolently and spoke:

"Found you little Abby."

*****

Abigail Marie Ross woke up, letting out blood curling scream. Her forehead beaded with sweat and her breathing uneven, making the dream more realistic. Her pale skin was as light as a sheet of blank paper, and her light brown hair were in a wild knotted mess. She looked around and noticed she was still in her dark bedroom. According to her green luminous clock on her nightstand, it was just three in the morning.

The dream had started about two weeks ago after they moved into the old Victorian house. It started as a hazy fog-like state, however, every night it grew more sinister and clearer. For Abby, sleep became a mortifying necessity. Abby never had a nightmare this traumatic, and perhaps more disburbingly. It's been happening for a few days now. But there was something new about the dream. She had always evaded her pursuer, but this time she was found. The voice belonged to a man. She was sure of it.

She could feel the paranoia creep up to her; even during her waking hours, she felt that she was being watched. At night, dreadful thoughts about falling asleep, and having the same sinister dream keep her up, sometimes until almost dawn. Dark circles had started forming around her eyes, as she tried to vigilantly stay awake every night. Of course all these attempts had lead to failure. One could only last so long without sleeping.

The rapping sound against the wooden door makes her jump, the adrenalin has not worn off. A cool familiar low voice spoke muffled by the thick mahogany door.

"Are you okay? I brought a glass of water." It was her older brother Ashton Ross. Of course it was a rhetoric question, there was definitely something out of sorts.

It was no surprise he was the one that came. Their parents were often busy with their line of work as a big share holder of the biggest mobile telecommunitcation across the globe. They couldn't be bothered by family matters; especially with trivial things such as reoccurring nightmares, Abby thought.

"Please, come in." She managed to say with a calm voice. Alarming her brother was the last thing in her mind as he seemed to have taken a heavier hit than Abby as evidenced by his sunken dark eyes, and pasty complexion. He had been increasingly involved, asking Abby every detail she could remember about the nightmare. To Abby, it was odd that something this trivial deeply peeked his interest.

As he had promised, he handed the cold glass to her sister and thirstily every last drop.

Ashton, sat on the side of her bed, his chocolate brown eyes looking very tired. There was an evident concern in them. He too was bothered by Abby's dreams, things were stirring outside their home, he could feel it. The way she described its details was very disconcerting, and the growing details feeds his own fear.

Outside the wind howled, rattling the frames of the old Victorian house. Abby couls hear the loud rustling of the leaves reminding here that she is in the middle of a forest. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

Just a little more patience. They would only have to bear with it for one more week or maybe just a couple of days, before they move yet, again. Ashton had been pushing for an early move. Abby found this, again, odd.

"Thanks. I'm really sorry you have to wake up every night to...this." Abby shook her head guiltily, tears streaming down her flushed cheek.

"No, no, Abby. It's all right. Tell me, is it that dream again?" Ashton asked, his face wearing the same weary expression she had grown accustomed to in the past weeks Abby stiffened up but nodded.

Abby could still feel his cold hands against her flesh, causing goosebumps to spread all over her body. She rubbed her neck vigorously so that heat would find her body again, so that the lingering uneasiness would diminish.

"Yeah... But this time there was someone... or something else in there..." she took a deep breath seeming to get weakened by her own revelation. Her big chocolate brown eyes looked straight towards Ashton. Abby's tears welled up and threatened to spill. Clear mortification burned in them.

"Why does it feel like I'm being hunted, Ash? He said.. he... found me..." Abby broke down into quiet sobs, and Ashton gave her a hug and rubbed her back.

His own heart racing in absolute fear. For years, he's been told by his parents to watch over Abigail and report back to them and Henrietta, if there was anything unorthodoxed-more than usual- happens. Abigail has never had dreams like that before.

He didn't know much details either which certainly did not help with decision making. He will report his findings to his parents tomorrow morning after his sweep.

Maybe, we could should leave tomorrow. Ashton contemplated.

Abby's sobs became louder and her whole body shook, interrupting Ashton's thoughts.

"Shh, Abby. I'm here now. I'll grab some pillows and blankets and sleep on the couch. I'll bring Eli with me too, okay?" she reluctantly let him go.

Ashton slipped out of the room, and when he came back in his arm is a small child around wrapped in a thick comforter. The child did not even stir as Ashton set her down Abigail's bed. A calm expression on her cherubic face. Somehow, this gave Abby some peace.

Ashton made himself comfortable on the long red antique couch, desperate for the sandman to come and lull him to sleep. He would not forget to call his parents tomorrow to discuss the matter at hand further.

School would start soon, Abby pondered, almost incoherent from the exhaustion. She had wondered what would happen then, but right now they needed rest, even if sleeping meant having to experience that horrendous dream again. Well, at least for Abby that was the case.

It's just a stupid nightmare. It's not real. Abby thought as she fearfully drifted to sleep.