Later that night, she slouched at her desk, determined to finish The Awakening. Though only a few pages remained, she was losing the battle to exhaustion. Her phone buzzed.
Darcy – U OK?
Lyla – 👌
Darcy – 👩❤️💋👩
Lyla – 💋
Lyla returned to her book, but couldn't concentrate. She clicked off her desk lamp and clumsily felt her way through the dark to the bed. She nestled into her pillow and closed her eyes. Fatigue flipped the switch that simultaneously put her brain and her body to sleep.
She found herself alone on the beach. Moonlight illuminated the white caps as the waves broke toward the shoreline. She jogged easily, the ocean breeze in her face, saltwater air filling her nostrils. The rhythmic SPLAT, SPLAT of her feet hitting the wet sand accompanied the slow roll of the ocean tide.
A familiar sound interrupted, a zipper being yanked up and down, up and down. Lyla's pulse quickened.
In the distance, the sea spray dissipated to reveal a figure standing atop a sand dune. He didn't advance but remained in place watching her, jerking at his jacket zipper.
She couldn't see his face, but there was no question. It was Keenan.
When she peered out at the ocean, she needed to shield her eyes. The moon had become a burning, glowing ball in the sky, growing brighter and brighter.
She woke from sleep and covered her bleary eyes with her forearm, squinting toward her desk. Someone had turned on her desk lamp.
"Dad?" she whispered.
No reply.
Her heart pounded. She always turned off the light before climbing into bed. It was a habit as deeply ingrained as fluffing her pillow. She peered around the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She draped her legs over the edge of her mattress and sat up, surveying the room again.
All quiet.
She advanced slowly toward her desk, one small step at a time, the floorboards creaking underfoot. She peeked out into the hallway.
No movement.
She took another tentative step and then another. Now at her desk, she reached for her lamp but stopped short. There, on the corner of her desk, sat the silver ring of a serpent eating its tail, two small red gems for eyes.
Lyla! Wake up!
She urgently needed to break free of this nightmare, but she wasn't dreaming.
She covered her nose, her bedroom reeking of Keenan's trashy cologne, rotting body odor, and stale beer. She stifled her gag reflex.
Her eyes remained fixed on that horrid piece of gaudy jewelry but she dared not touch it. When she heard CLICK, her desk lamp went dark, the light quickly fading to pitch black.
As Lyla's bulging eyes gradually became accustomed to the dark, she could see him, crouched against the wall behind her bedroom door. He stood motionless, but she could feel his demonic eyes upon her. She wanted to cry out, but she couldn't.
Keenan Ames hid in the shadows only a few feet away, his facial skin hanging like strips of paper mache, leering at her like the devil himself.