For the poster of Axel to the side------->
THE BOY NEXT DOOR
Copyright © 2012 by Taina Regina
(Title and Cover may be subject to change) All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Previously on The Boy Next Door...
Finally she saw a familiar part of the house that was his living room, and the grand staircase, when she eyed the front door and the figure that was standing tall right in front of it.
"Emmy," he said a little calmly, too calm for her to ignore. His eyes full of concern and confusion, but most of all, desperation in his black orbs as they stared at her. She paused, inches from the doorway because he was blocking her way.
"Please, let me explain." His accent seemed thicker than usual, and Ember knew if she stayed in there too long, she'd submit to his hypnotic voice.
She narrowed her eyes on him, and flicked them over to the metal handle of the door that marked her freedom. Her arms shook with anticipation and fear, knowing that she was ten steps from safety. "If you don't let me out, I'll scream," she threatened, though her voice didn't do her threat any justice, when it cracked at the end. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to pay them any heed, as she eyed the knob. "I swear to God I'll scream," she whispered, biting every word out of clenched teeth.
Axel's arms went slack beside him, and she could almost make out his wistful sigh. Slowly, he sidestepped out of the way, and the bolt clicked, letting the door swing open on its own. With one last bow, he lowered his eyes to the ground in one last farewell. Ember didn't give him so much as a glance as she raced out of there faster than she could even blink.
***
Chapter Eight: Tortured Memories
EMBER DIDN'T MEAN to run.
But the instant feeling of what was sure to suffocate her, smothered her with insanity, she had to get out of there to prevent herself from screaming. The unbearable pain of tortured memories spewed out of her like blood from a gaping wound, waiting desperately for someone to stitch it back up. Even more so at the look on his face. She couldn't get Axel's expression out of her mind; the raw disappointment she'd seen when she'd fled from his house made devastation seem mild. Ember couldn't even remember why she ran, just that the dark memories of Axel's past controlled her. She was a puppet on a string, and the air around her livid and icy, couldn't seem to wake her up from it.
Pressing the ball of her hand on her left eye, she strained when another migraine flooded through her, bypassing her nervous system, and setting up camp in her cerebral cortex, and back around again making its angry mark all over her brain. This time it was different. This time the pain was stronger, and the churning of power livened up her arms in a way that her brain couldn't understand. She had to brace herself on the edge of the large door that separated her from the boy who'd saved her life, and ruined it at the same time. Ember waited for the pain to surpass before she pushed off the door to collect her bearings. What few of them were left, anyway.
Looking up, she marveled at the blue light casting overhead as it marked the coming dawn. The way the different colored blues meshed with the swirl of black smog made it look like a splash of paint that had mixed with the wrong color. She wondered how long she'd been in Axel's house. A night? Two nights? Maybe a week she couldn't say. All she knew was—being outside—made her feel exposed. Though she'd been isolated between the walls of Axel's mansion, out here she felt naked, open to a world of memories that was otherwise frying her brain. The gentle breeze ruffled her light brunette hair to the side like a curtain billowing from an open window, and she had a few seconds of contemplation, before she dragged her feet off the cobblestone porch, out of the gate, and into her house.
Back in the comfort of her own room, it didn't make her feel any better. Ember couldn't seem to shut her brain off, and the slight twinges in her hip made her remember she'd had a glass wedged there just judging from the pink blush that was left behind. Overwhelmed was putting it mildly. If it wasn't for the constant chaos of different sounds coming from all over the place, it was the stinging sensation in her nose, making a tingle feeling like she was on the verge of sneezing. She cursed silently, pacing the small expanse of her room, from the tall boy drawer, leading to her window seat, and back again. If she were a truck, she'd be practically making tread marks all over the wooden floorboards, leaving dust in their wake. She still felt a little woozy, and the constant migraines that rendered her motionless made pacing seem difficult. Lying back on her bed to try and shut the dizzy spells off, but they only got worse. She ran her hands through her hair, clenching a chunk in her fist, wanting to pull it out as memory after memory invaded her mind.
Please, stop! But the mental images consumed her. Her mentality weakening by the minute, she could almost swear she was losing it. She screamed into her pillow, writhing as she fisted the sheets to try shut out the pain. The ringing in her ears rendered her deaf every time a new vision passed through her; while nausea swept over her every second she tried to shut it out with her squirms. Bile soon rose to her throat, and she quickly grabbed for the breakfast bowl on her nightstand, retching inside it, coating it with black sludgy liquid. Her eyes widened in horror at the look of it, and the faint memory of drinking the sludgy liquid from the silver cup flickered through her mind, and she collapsed back on her bed. Cheek buried in her sheets, while the memories controlled her, but these were darker, more horrific, when she found she was not in Axel's mind, but in a mental tomb that would pass as the Grim Reapers sanctuary.
1825 Romania
A black smoky haze settled over the dark mansion of the sanctuary, spires towering high at one end, as the solid charcoal walls separated the waters of Lake Chasseur or otherwise known as Chasseur Palace.
Inside the Lord's chambers, a private haven that forbade any entry of his worshippers, or underprivileged human stock he called lambs, was a prestigious layout of grand gestured furniture, that was decorated in black and gold, while a large throne stood erect atop of the dais.
A long gold strip ran through the aisle, leading up to the Lord himself, making him the most fearsome, respected Lord of Vampire-dom. Anyone who dared to step foot in his chambers made suicide look cheap, and yet, here he was, staring down at one of them crazy enough to meet his wrath, and boil it on a stove.
He watched the stooge drag his loathesome self down the aisle, while shadows of menacing men and woman stood to the side, hissing with newfound thirst. The Lord had to give the stooge credit for not flinching, or splaying fear on his face. His ragged cloak smudged with soot, and filth that carried a foul stench in the air.
"M'lord, permission to request a favor?"
The Cloaked Man narrowed his eyes on to the small scrooge of a man kneeling at his feet, and glared, hovering and brooding as he hissed, "You dare to be in my chambers, asking a favor of me, from which you live so worthlessly so! To what do I owe any reply?" A trail of voices tagged behind his fury, as it echoed in full throttle. His cloak dancing to his actions, as he flicked a pale finger at the perpetrator who'd trespassed into his quarters.
The small man flinched at his feet, keeping his eyes and head down, and his earlier credit had flown out the window. "M'lord, I apologize sincerely, but this cannot wait."
He waved his hand about for him to carry on. "Very well, let's have it then."
"My wife has sightings of the boy. We were sent on a quest, and I saw with my own eyes, he is alive," the man quivered, showing mercy in the tremor of his fingers.
The Cloaked Man considered this by tilting his head to one side, braving a perverted smirk that could stir even the grit on the charcoal stone floors.
"Interesting..." He let that word hang in the air, like the bad scent of the scrooge, and paced back to his throne. The man did not look up, and by his small hair on his head, he was lucky for it.
But luck in the presence of the Cloaked Man was not too far from being stupid, as much as it was to speak before him to trade information for a favor...and yet, the scrooge was still breathing.
"Go on," he prompted of the man.
The scrooge let out a choked sigh of relief, and continued. "My wife and I, boarded a ship to the wastelands, and decided we'd taken the wrong trail—"
"You forget that my time is valued, as not of yours, get to the point," he said, waving his wrist about to hurry the scrooge along.
"Yes, M'lord," he nodded, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the floor. "The boy, the one you seek so eagerly, headed to Paris, as were we by mistake. An omen of great honor sent us there, so I believe, that we could deliver the news to our Lord."
The cloaked man held up his willowy hand to stop him, a gesture that he'd used a lot when it came to filthy lambs raving about nonsense.
A chuckle escaped his thinned lips, "Paris? I shall see to this dear omen, you say is great honor, and see for myself. You are dismissed."
The scrooge raised his head, and his eyes widened in protest. "B-but M-m'lord, a f-favor?" he stammered, offering his hands in prayer as he begged for something in return.
The Cloaked man's patience wavered, and his eyes raked over the scrooge in boredom. "Oh right, the favor. Enlighten me."
The scrooge's wrinkled face pulled as he smiled in endearment. "Permission to grant my wife and I with your power, for I will not live a moment any longer with her if she is without it, nor I."
"Ahh, my power, such a favor for a small treat. I frown in your company." A hiss of laughter echoed through the chambers, and the scrooge lowered his head in embarrassment.
"But M'lord, she is sick, and I have no—"
"Silence! You silly lamb, for you talk too much. I'm in lieu of a migraine, and it sickens me to put up with that filthy stench that reeks from your pores." He flicked his finger, and two hooded creatures materialized on either side of him.
The scrooge panicked, and his eyes bugged out. "M'lord, I beg of your mercy, if not for me, then my dying wife. Please," he pleaded, almost to the point of tears.
The Cloaked man sighed, and glared. "Say I consider this, if not for your pathetic worthless life, but for your dear wife you say so, do you think she's as willing as you so eagerly are?"
A frantic nod came from the old man. "Yes, M'lord."
"T'is done."
The scrooge kissed the soles of his feet, and the Cloaked Man, swooped the man up by his neck in one swift move, letting his feet dangle in the air.
The red eyes reflected out of the scrooge's beady blue eyes, as they widened with horror. He leaned in close enough to smell fear dripping from the scrooge's pores. "But my power only exceeds credit for those who deserve it, again I ask, is she worthy my dear lamb to possess such power in your favor?"
The man squealed in answer, as his face turned red, but it was neither a nod, nor a shake of the head. Just an expression, and beating of a heart that screamed mercy. The Cloaked Man pressed his thumb against the scrooge's pulse just under his jaw line, and hissed fervently.
"That sound of fear is music to my ears, the smell even more enticing." He put a little more pressure, digging his thumb further into his neck. "But what excites me more, is knowing the sound your body makes when I snap it in half—if I haven't drained you of your blood already." His mouth twitched as he roamed his eyes over the scrooge, baring his fangs. "Will you allow your wife you claim to love so dearly, as to be subjected to such power to possess? To subject victims to perverse thoughts you or she may seek as you drain them of their lives?"
The scrooge struggled in his arms, flailing his legs, as he tore at the iron hand that cut off his breathing. The Cloaked man whispered, "This power you seek, is neither granted, nor chosen, but cursed upon those who seek it. Will you put your wife through that of a hands of a monster?"
The man shook his head slightly, and a strangled inaudible sound escaped his lips.
"No? I didn't think so." The Cloaked man released the pressure against his pulse, and whispered, "Here's a little secret I like to tell." He whispered low, in to his ear. "Your wife is better off dead."
The Cloaked Man released his grip, leaving an angry mark on the scrooge's neck, as he flopped lifelessly to the ground. The scrooge inhaled frantically, wheezing as oxygen slowly entered his lungs, as he began to choke on air.
"I have no time for your foolish games, get out, before I decorate your head as a garland."
The scrooge shrieked as he scrambled off the floor, and skittered out of the chambers. Leaving the Cloaked Man to his throne, and his new found thoughts of finding the boy.
--------
He watched Alexander through the window of a prestigious mansion, and smirked. He'd followed him home, and realized he'd set a comfortable lifestyle among humans. The Cloaked Man sniffed the air, and he could smell a longing fiery need seeping for family love from Alexander's pores as he sat there clutching his journal. The feeling was almost nostalgic, and something that he could relate to.
"Axel? Will you read to me?"
Alexander diverted his eyes from his journal, and pinned them on a little girl with light brunette wavy hair, and light gray eyes. Her musical tenor drifted through the air. The white cotton nightgown just hit the tip of her toes, as the frilly hem billowed around her ankles as she tiptoed toward him. Alexander smiled at his nickname she'd used for him, because she had trouble reading his name—calling him Axe-el-and-er—which later had been shortened into Axel.
"Cornelia?" He frowned looking at the time on his nightstand, and then back at her. "It's past midnight, what are you doing awake?"
"I couldn't sleep," she pouted, padding across the wooden floorboards, to stand next to his cot.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You couldn't, or you wouldn't?"
She shrugged, a faint smirk teasing her pouted mouth. "It's Slavia, she snores too loud."
Alexander patted the bed beside him, settling his journal on the nightstand, and scooted over to make room for her. She climbed up next to him, and burrowed into the crook of his arm. "What story do you want to hear?"
A crash startled Cornelia, as she clung to Alexander's arm. His reflex instantaneous, as he hushed Cornelia and hid her in the wardrobe, and ventured down the hallway to check on the other kids in the rooms. The rooms were empty, creeping down the dingy stairs to see what the commotion was all about, and as he walked toward to the drawing room, he froze.
A growl summoned deep within his throat when he witnessed the sight of his half brother's and sisters lying on the floor in a pool of blood, with a cloaked man standing inches from the doorway of the front entrance.
"You're quite predictable, my child. But I told you, I will destroy everyone around you, to get what I want," the cloaked man cooed. Alexander's neck curved upward, as he roared, clenching his fists, making every muscle in his body constrict. The mocking laughter of the cloaked man only made his roars louder, when he disappeared in the night.
Ember shivered, as she steeled her thoughts back, wondering how she could live with herself for shutting Axel out, after the life he'd had, as she watched the last of his memories fade from her mind. She wanted to take it all back. How selfish she'd been when she left his house like that, but her head was a mess.
And what would she say?
She took a few minutes to see if her mind was at ease, hoping that was the last of her episodes, as she sat up.
It was nighttime again, and she idly padded across the expanse of her room, and managed a shower. She must've passed out from exhaustion, and she still felt like she hadn't slept at all. The hot rush of water woke her up, and she closed her eyes, hoping it'll wash the horrific memories away too. But every time she closed her eyes, they were there.
After her shower, she dressed into a pair of gray sweats, and a loose tee, shoving her hair into a messy bun, as she went to work with her toothbrush in her mouth.
Looking in the mirror made her backpedal from the sight of her reflection. Apart from the usual palor of her ivory skin, her eyes appeared to be hollow. A red tear streaming down her reflections face. Wiping frantically at her face, there was no evidence of red on her fingers, but her refection had blood smeared where she'd supposedly wiped. She regarded her hands in front of her, looking for any evidence of her blood. Nothing.
Shivering, she faced the mirror to her wall, horrified at the hallucinations that had taken over her for that short amount of time, and sighed.
It's all in my head, it's all in my head, she chanted silently. Half convinced she was crazy, she took a few breathers, then shook her head.
I'm going crazy! Her mind taunted. She scrubbed her hands over her face a couple of times, and snuck a peek at her reflection. Sighing in relief, she rolled her eyes.
I seriously need to get out more.
The house felt cold, empty as she searched the hall ways, flicking on every light switch she came in contact with, wondering why it was so quiet. She was always one for liking the dark, but tonight felt almost eerie, and she silently wished she didn't have to spend the night alone. She wandered into Coral's room, of course there was no sign of Coral in her bed, just a ghost of what used to be somebody's lying figure molded into the sheets, save for the pink furniture that marked her princess room. Barf! But she couldn't help the thought of wanting to hug her for some reason. For comfort sake.
Ember silently wondered where everyone was when she found that her father's room was empty too. No surprises there, he'd probably been on call at work, and he never passed up an opportunity to work over hours. The 42 inch T.V blaring early morning informercials, but the bed messed from being slept in, made her frown. Especially since she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen any creases in Julie's bed. Another strange observation flitted through her, remembering Julie's obsessive nature when it came to her bed. Frowning again, she flicked the T.V. off, and bit her lips.
"Where the hell could they be?" she wondered aloud.
Ignoring the uneasy feeling she got at the realization that she was home alone. For real this time, and she shivered.
The family room downstairs was empty, and she had to wrinkle her nose from the charred smell of Julie's burnt scrambled eggs that lay forlornly in a pan, but nobody around to show for it. The kitchen overbearing and empty, seemed such a waste of space for a family of four.
She checked the messages on the answering machine, and raised her eyebrows.
Forty three messages? She racked her brain, trying to figure out who would be desperate enough to leave all those messages, and came up empty. Ember pressed the playback button, settling down on the bar stool against the granite bench, as a low, edgy voice spoke through the speakers.
"Dr. Callaway? You haven't answered my page call, just wondering if you were free tonight, we're swamped down here. Another bad case of alcohol poisoning. You might want to check it out for yourself."
Message sent at 8.55pm on a Monday. Ember frowned up at the calendar. It was Thursday? No, that can't be right. She flipped through the calendar, and then decided to flick the small T.V that sat on the bench. The weather was on, and it showed it was definitely a Thursday.That meant Ember had been lying in Axel's house for four days! She braced herself on the bench, as the message skipped to the next one.
"Mrs. Callaway, you never called in sick, and you're not answering your mobile. Are you coming in to work today? I have a house with your name on it." Ember screwed her face up at the title that he'd addressed Julie by. To Ember, Julie was considered a Harrison, because she'd never live up to the Callaway name, even if she is married to her father. Her sharing the same family name just didn't seem right. She flicked past a couple more of the same messages for Julie, making the machine sound as if it'd been chewed up and swallowed by chipmunks—itching to delete them as she went by, but thought better of it, since Julie's job was the only thing that kept her away from the house, and her. She stopped at a familiar gruff voice, and had to rewind to get the full message.
"Mr. and Mrs. Callaway, Ember hasn't been to school in the past few days. Did you call in to say she was sick? If so, I haven't received any notice in my records, I'll check it again."
She knew that voice all too well. It was the Headmaster Bruley, sure to keep everyone at SFH in line, and from truancy. Ember skipped halfway through the message, not wanting to hear any more of Mr. Bruley's ranting.
"Hey, it's Mrs. Vincent here, just calling on behalf of my son, Leroy. I've been over twice already, but no one was home, and I'm starting to worry. He isn't answering his phone, in fact, he hasn't been home since last Friday when Emmy picked him up for school...you haven't seen him by any chance? If he's there, would you tell him to give me a call. Thanks. Bye.
Another ten calls were directed toward her father, Dr. Callaway, but it was the very last message that had her finger frozen over the playback button. The hypnotic accent sent shivers down her spine, and the soft tender note in his voice made her heart palpitate on its own accord. It was Axel, as his coaxing voice hummed through the small speakers.
"Emmy, it's me, Axel."
Ember flinched, and her breath hitched in her throat at his spoken words. There was a silent pause after he cleared his throat, and Ember could just make out his level breathing, as if he were having a hard time mulling over his next words. She anticipated his next words, leaning over the white answering machine with her ear plastered near the speaker, as if doing so would make his words come quicker. But it never came. Just a silent pause, and then the dial tone. She checked the message to see what time it was sent. She frowned, noticing it was minutes before she'd gotten in. Ember sat there imagining what he'd wanted to say. Her own mind whirring of the possibilities of what he was going to say. She found herself rewinding the tape, and listening to it again and again. Trying to make out what was happening in the background, and at the fact that he had her number. Home number to be precise. The only people who had her home number that she'd ever given it to was Leroy. She played the tape again until it was drummed into her head.
"Emmy, it's me, Axel."
The wistfulness in his tone made Ember clench her teeth at the thought of her running from him. Such a cowardice move on her front, she regretted it instantly, but she knew she couldn't take it back.
"Emmy, it's me, Axel."
She sighed against the bench, feeling her stomach growl as she replayed the machine, dreaming up ways that she could've handled herself better. She wished she stayed to hear him out. She wished she'd never run from him, better yet, she wished she had comforted him.
"Emmy, it's me, Axel."
She found herself smiling at the thought of him calling her Emmy. For some reason, the nickname sounded better when it slipped from his mouth, almost dreamlike, and she was instantly reminded of the way he sang one of his songs that she'd had a glimpse of over the radio. Hypnotic, tantalizing, and addicting.
Ember jumped at the sudden invasion of the phone ringing in her ear, eyeing the phone as if it suddenly grew fungus over it in the last several minutes she'd been sitting there. Her heart thundered under her chest, wondering if Axel had called her back to finish his sentence. The mere thought sent her nerves skyrocketing, wondering what she should do. Pick the damn thing up! her mind ordered, but she hesitated for a little second.
She picked up before it went to voicemail, and she had a few seconds of trying to calm her pulse down, before she managed a, "hello".
"Julie?"
She frowned at the whimpering sound of a familiar woman's voice.
"No, it's me. Ember," she corrected, frowning deeper.
"Oh, thank God, you're there! It's me, Leroy's mom. I'm just calling to say...I'm sorry...I'm..." She paused to take an exaggerated breath, and in between breaths, her voice quivered.
"It's okay, Mrs. Vincent, take your time," Ember encouraged, feeling her heart thrum violently, working a marathon in between her breast bone.
Ember could just make out her sniffles, as Mrs. Vincent blew into what she thought to be a handkerchief, while she excused herself. Ember didn't like where this conversation was going, but she held the phone to her ear, waiting patiently for Mrs. Vincent to control herself.
"Mrs. Vincent, are you okay?"
"No. It's Leroy." She sniffed into the phone, and Ember imagined her wiping her eyes in between pauses. "He's dead."
The world froze in that moment as Mrs. Vincent's words had time to sink in. He's dead? Leroy's dead? My Roy?
But that was impossible. Ember squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in denial. Her heart sizzled at the sudden fire that burned within her, as she tried picturing a world without Leroy. He'd been impossible over the last few weeks, but the years of their time spent together as kids came crawling back to her, as a sick nostalgic feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Leroy had died. Her best friend, gone forever.
"No," she wheezed, unceremoniously so. She couldn't remember the last time her and Leroy had gotten along, but the thought of him dying, was too much for her to bear.
"Ember, are you there?"
"I'm here," she said, barely audible. The phone protesting under her relentless grip, trying her hardest to keep from losing it. Especially on the phone to his mother, she didn't want her to feel any worse than she sounded.
"How, why?" Ember sputtered.
"I don't know, I just... the police were here, and they were acting all weird, but they wanted me to identify him in the morgue, and I just...oh God!" The frantic panic coming from Mrs. Vincent only made it that much real. Leroy gone...forever?
She didn't know what to do in her bouts of hysterics, but Ember tried her best to calm her. What did people say in these types of situations, to express their condolences? Saying sorry didn't quite fit, because if anyone had said that to her, she knew she'd flip. Her silent tears threatening to escape her, but she willed them away.
"I don't know what to do, either, Mrs. Vincent." She swallowed in between breaths, and continued, "I can't believe it," Ember admitted, cursing the salty tear that got away. First Janet, now Leroy. Frowning at the sudden realization of the two, Ember had to ask. "Mrs. Vincent? H-how did he die?"
A silent pause, and a few sniffles later, Mrs. Vincent spoke, "They're saying Alcohol poisoning, but your father thinks it's something else."
Ember's breath hitched, as the words alcohol poisoning ran through her mind. "My father? Did he say what that something was?"
"No. Just wondered why he had two bite marks on his neck. Anyway, I have to go, I just...oh God, what am I gonna do?"
Ember didn't have the answer to that, and before she could condole her one last time, she wondered what kind of bite marks Leroy had on his neck, but before she could ask, Mrs. Vincent had already voiced that she had a call on the other line, thanking Ember for being there for her family and her son.
She let the phone drop from her grasp, as she recalled the recent events. The thought of Axel quite possibly being inhuman was far more believable than the daunting fact that Leroy was dead. Leroy had strayed from their relationship just a couple of weeks ago, but she still couldn't let go of the empty feeling that threatened to choke her.
A strange bubbling yelp summoned to the surface, as she bent over to breathe. He's dead. Ember rubbed her eyes on her sleeveless arms, trying to chase the tears away, but they kept coming. She couldn't help but think of their fight they'd had in the school parking lot, and the night she'd seen Axel at Shallows Falls Point. Why? Out of all the weird happenings this town and her thoughts conjured up, Axel was the common factor, and the mystery behind the case.
A knew call had come through, and she didn't hesitate this time, she picked the phone up as if her life depended on it. "Hello?" she asked into the receiver.
"Emmy, it's Leroy...." he wheezed, and stifled a inaudible 'help' before the dial tone sounded.
"Roy!" She punched in his mobile, but it went to the answering machine. She tried Mrs. Vincent's mobile, and hers too, went to voicemail. Ember sat there wondering what the hell was going on. First, she get's a call from Mrs. Vincent saying that her sons dead, and then moments later, Leroy is calling her. For help, he needs you, her mind coaxed.
Hours later, she heard the front door slam shut, and Ember hurriedly wiped at her face when she heard high heels click on the floor, and her fathers gruff voice. The minute Julie materialized in the kitchen, Ember just caught the furious glare she had one, and Ember was a hundred percent sure that it was pointed at her.
"You," Julie fumed, as her face turned red as tomato juice. "Where have you been, and where did you take her?!" she screeched. Julie looked like the devil right now, and that was saying something.
Ember blinked in confusion. "What? Who—" Ember was baffled. She'd known Julie had blown her horn at her most of the time, but this time felt different. She'd never seen her so angry before. The relief on her fathers face when he saw Ember, put her at ease.
Her father put his hands on Julie's shoulders to calm her. "Jule's, let's not get ahead of ourselves, I'm sure Emmy has a perfect explanation to where she's been." His silent glare spoke louder than words. She knew she was in for it.
She shook her head. "Dad? What are you talking about?"
Julie twisted out of her fathers embrace, shaking her head violently. "No! Stop making excuses for her! I told you, she's out of control. We should've sent her to that asylum down Gremlon's Psychiatric Ward, I'm telling you. She does this for attention," Julie said in disgust.
Ember wasn't surprised that Julie had been plotting to get rid of her, but to a Psych Ward? She couldn't stand for that. She gritted her teeth. "Maybe you should admit yourself, since it's so clear who the psycho is in this room."
"Ember, don't talk to your mother like that," he warned.
She rolled her eyes. "Ugh! You always take her side! And stop saying she's my mother, I have a mother, and in case you've forgotten, she's dead!" she fumed, pointing in Julie's direction. "And right now, I wish she was dead."
This was her cue to run, but her father's tight grip stopped her from doing so. "Sit down," he ordered. She obeyed reluctantly, and guilt started to settle in her stomach as she watched Julie's shoulders shaking, as she stifled a sob.
"Why don't you go put your feet up, you've had a long day, let me talk to my daughter."
Julie glared at Ember, and then focused her bottled green eyes on her father's blue ones. Ember thought his words had gone in one ear and out the other, but she noticed Julie's shoulders shaking and the sound of whimpering as she burrowed her face into his chest. Her father nodded to Ember to wait in the family room, while he took Julie upstairs to the master bedroom. Ember shocked, watched her father cart Julie up the stairs, and he was back again.
"I'm sorry," she said as soon as they were alone.
He just shook his head. "Emmy, we need to talk."
She did as she was told, as the both of them settled into the couch. The silence was deafening, she hated herself right now. For shouting, for seeing her dad so exhausted, and for being a bitch to Julie. But in her defense, Julie started it. Now she was certain her dad was going to send her to a Psych Ward.
"Emmy, where have you been? I've been worried sick; you haven't been answering your phone. You haven't turned up to school in the past four days, and what was worse, you haven't bothered to ring me to say you're fine. I didn't know what to think..."
"Dad, calm down. I'm here now," she reassured him.
He glared. "Only just, I thought you were missing, better yet, I thought you were dead."
Her eyes widened. "Missing? Dead? Dad, isn't that a bit over the top?" she wondered.
"An alert for an epidemic is at large, Ember. Teenage kids are dying out there, mysteriously missing, and your sister—" His voice cut off at the end, as if he had a hard time saying her name.
Ember frowned as he mentioned her sister. Come to think of it, she hadn't heard from the little critter of her sister since they came home. "Coral, what about her? Where is she and why is Julie so freaked out? Has something happened to her?"
Her father's eyes matched his tie, and something dark clouded them, as he was lost in thought. Finally, he pinned them back on Ember, and the darkness intensified. "Your sister...is one of the kids who've gone missing."
She gasped, bolting upright in her chair. "Coral's missing!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Since when?"
Her father gulped. "The same day we thought you went missing." His voice sounded tired and she could just notice the dark circles smudged under his eyes as if he'd lost sleep in the last few days. She paced the ashen carpet of the family area, and tried to collect her thoughts. The last time she had seen Coral, she was sleeping soundly in her bed, when Ember decided to follow Axel that night in the streets. The details were hazy, but she could just make the part where she woke up in Axel's house. Her eyebrows furrowed, as she thought of it. Four days she'd apparently been recuperating in his mansion. Four days since Coral had been missing. Four days since she remembered the attack.
She slammed her palm against her forehead, realizing what was staring her right in the eye. Ember felt like her feet had turned to jelly when she thought about the cloaked man stalking her that night when she'd been stalking Axel. The same man Coral had said was lurking outside of her window when she had a nightmare.
"I should've done something," she whispered, fisting her hands at her forehead, and started pacing.
"Emmy, what is it?" her father forced her to stop pacing, making her rambling come to a halt.
She shook her head. "That night, Coral had a nightmare, and came crying to my bed. Ugh! I should've listened to her, daddy. I just, I thought she was being her usual drama queen self but..."
"Emmy, you're not making any sense, Honey."
Ember managed a fitful breath, and pinned them back on her dad. "Coral said there was a "scary man" at her window. I thought it was just her nightmares she was talking about, but that same night I went out, I had a feeling that someone was following me." Ember wrapped her arms around herself in search of comfort. "It's all my fault."
Now her father stood up, making the room smaller under his stature. He was still in his white coat, and one of his suits he wore underneath it, his eyes red from rubbing them. "Scary man? Why didn't you tell me there was someone lurking our property? I would've called the cops! And what were you doing out after curfew?"
Ember gnawed on her bottom lips, forgetting the fact that she'd just given away the fact that she'd snuck out to follow Axel. She hadn't seen her father this angry in a long time. She should've known her father wouldn't miss a thing like missing curfew.
Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I didn't know there was a scary man. Coral says a lot of stupid things, how was I supposed to know it was real?"
Her father pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture Ember saw in herself so many times. "I'm calling officer Bentley that we have a new lead on this case."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Stay here, and keep the doors locked," he said.
Ember watched her father stalk toward the kitchen, and the squeak of the chair grating against the lino suggested he was on the barstool, as his gruff murmurs whispered through the thin walls. Ember couldn't sit still, knowing that her sister was missing. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to her. The mere thought of leaving her alone like that, just made the guilty feeling whirl at the pit her stomach. Pacing, she thought of a plan. The cops could only do so much, and she needed help fast.
Before she could help herself, Ember shoved on a pair of converse, shrugging on a thick long wool coat, and made her way out the door, knowing of one person that could help her more efficiently, than any cop would do.
Ember jumped at the weird scraping at the front door, and a thump that sounded like something heavy had dropped against it.
She craned her neck over at the door, and heard a agonizing groan coming from the porch. Her heart pounded, and she quickly grabbed for a knife from the knife block, and crept toward the door. Ember peered through the peephole, but there was no one there, but she was certain she'd heard it.
She twisted the knob, and slowing opened the door, when another groan sounded, and Ember refrained from screaming when she saw a bloody corpse lying in front of her.
The head looked up, and she gasped when Leroy's lips formed the words, 'help'.
"Dad!" she screamed, shuffling toward Leroy's body to help him. Her father came rushing forward to see what was going on. "What the hell is going o—"
"Emmy, whatever you do, do not touch him." It was her dad's voice of warning again, and she looked over her shoulder, frowning.
"It's okay, it's Leroy."
"Whatever that is, it's not Leroy. It's—"
Ember screamed, as the face of Leroy blurred in front of her, and had her by the neck before she could even blink. He stood healthy as any other, but his pallor more ghostly than what she rememebered of him. She could just make out fangs extending from his jaws, and now that she saw him in the glow of the porch light, Ember noticed that the blood on his clothes wasn't his blood at all.
"Rumor has it; you have a high price on your head, Emmy."
She froze in his iron grip, for fear of him tightening the pressure at the base of her pulse. This was not the Leroy she remembered. This was a monster living in his body. Vampire, her mind was screaming. My friend is a monster! Her shallow gasps held in by an inner remote control she forced into place.
"Now, your father's going to put that knife down very carefully, if he wants your head still attached to your body." His silent warning directed at her father, as his red eyes glared past her.
A loud clink sounded seconds later, and in her peripheral, she could see her fathers hands up in surrender, eyeing Leroy with forced compliance.
"Please, let my daughter go." The terrified expression on her fathers face stunned her into silence. She'd never seen her father fear anything, but at the possibility of losing a child, he was on the verge of doing something stupid.
"Dad, don't," Ember warned, as she saw him slightly raise another knife that he'd hidden in his hands.
"Let her go," he bit out, ignoring her.
A slow eerie smile crept along Leroy's face, and Ember stifled a yelp as he put a little pressure on her neck. "Sorry, but I'm on strict orders that lets me do otherwise."
In a split of a second, he dragged Ember by the neck, and disappeared in the dead of the night, and the last thing she heard was the frantic shouts of her father in the distance. Her last thought was not begging for her life, but more at the regret of hurting Axel's feelings as she ran from him. She wished he was here, just to say sorry, but now she'd probably never get the chance to do either when she felt a strong thud connect with her head.
She blacked out.
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A/N: Sorry for the LONG wait, but as you know, my laptop was down, and I had nothing to write on for a couple of months, but I've got my laptop up and running, and I'm back into this story. I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave me your honest and constructive criticism, I'd love to hear what you think.
P.S: Who here is anticpating the release of The Hunger Games Movie on March 22nd (or 23rd)? MEEEE :):)