Dark Illusions: Wicked Truths

There's always a man who watches me.

He hides in the shadows, only stepping into the faint glow of the streetlights overhead. He waits until I'm alone.

He follows me everywhere I go.

I see him when I pass between classes or when I stare out the window during a lecture that has managed to bore me into insanity. He waits for me after school, hiding between the shadows cast by the buildings so I never have a clear view of his face.

I may not see him.

But he's always there.

It must be such a thrill.

Yet he never approaches me.

Over time, we gradually gravitate toward each other, like magnets desperately attempting to cling to a tiny piece of metal when they're being pulled apart.

I can feel his presence like a sixth sense, although what I truly am probably explains that.

I don't want to be anywhere near him.

But I can't help it.

I'm intrigued.

And it's going to get me killed.

A spark deep inside my body erupts whenever he's around. I can't explain it, but I need him.

Still, I keep my distance from this stranger like I always do.

But this time is different.

This time, I've decided enough is enough.

He followed me to work today.

For the second week in a row.

Annoying.

I know he's out there, and I can't concentrate with his energy radiating from wherever he's hiding in plain sight.

By the time I leave, locking up Oliver's Library, the sun has been down for at least an hour. The stars are out, and so is my stalker.

He's leaning against the side of a building, lighting a cigarette.

I step off the sidewalk and cross the street toward him instead of walking to my car.

I make sure to take my time, though, just in case I need to run.

My keys are clenched tightly in my hand.

In my mind, I know I shouldn't be doing this.

But his presence is too intriguing.

As he watches me walk toward him instead of my car, a smile slowly spreads across his face.

Definitely going to kill me.

He blows out a puff of smoke before stepping out from his hiding place and into the dim light cast by the streetlamp.

The light offers him about as much protection as it offers me.

His smile seems friendly.

But so did every serial killer before their victims were slashed and hacked to pieces.

Was that what he was?

A serial killer?

Or something a little more sinister?

I could tell he was different.

I'd sensed it every time I saw him.

He wasn't like the rest of the people occupying the small stores surrounding us.

His scent was different.

Stronger.

Ancient.

Feral, almost.

Doglike.

How rude of me to call him a dog when I knew that's not what he was.

There was something wild about his face.

Attractive, even.

I knew he was trouble, and somehow, that didn't stop me from walking toward him.

If anything, it pushed me forward, as though I were being hypnotized by the sight of his straight, white teeth.

How perfect they were terrified me more than what might be hiding underneath his gums.

I stopped a few feet away from him, careful to maintain my distance.

I needed a head start in case he tried anything.

“Hello.”

His smile widened.

I said nothing.

“You know,” he said with a smirk, probably noticing the fear creeping onto my face, “it's not polite to ignore people.”

I scoffed.

“It's not polite to stalk people.”

He didn't say anything in return.

Instead, he laughed.

It was loud and hearty, sending chills down my spine and straight into my core.

It was the kind of laugh you'd want to hear on repeat because it made you smile no matter how much it terrified you right now.

Glad to know I'm hilarious.

Now I was angry.

Angry because he was laughing.

Angry because he was watching me.

And angry because he had the nerve to call me impolite after he'd been following me repeatedly without saying a word.

I could feel my blood boiling, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to control my anger much longer now that it was beginning to overpower my fear.

Noticing my hostility, he stopped laughing and cleared his throat.

A silent apology, I presumed, even though he looked away from me.

Maybe he feared me.

I didn't know.

“I'm not stalking you, Amara.”

He looked back at me.

“I'm watching over you.”

The expression on his face told me everything I needed to know.

He didn't fear me.

I should fear him.

And I did.

As if sensing the silent conversation happening inside my head, he smiled again.

His honey-brown eyes seemed to light up.

I was right.

He wasn't what he appeared to be.

He was different.

Just like me.

My gaze dropped to his hands, and my breath caught.

His fingers were changing.

Claws slowly pushed from the tips of them, sharp and unnatural.

A low growl rumbled from his throat.

I froze.

He kept his gaze fixed somewhere behind me.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and yanked me behind him.

A little too hard.

Even after he released me, I could still feel the imprint of his fingers against my skin.

I was confused.

Curious.

And more than a little terrified.

Whatever he was looking at, I had no idea.

My eyes had adjusted well to the darkness, but there was nothing there.

Hmm.

Weird.

Just shadows and the occasional shuffling of debris across the pavement as the wind carried it along.

And yet, even though I couldn't see anything, a nagging feeling settled in my chest.

Something was there.

Something I couldn't see.

Something I couldn't hear.

I tugged on my protector's arm, feeling him tense at the contact.

He looked down at me with a silent what? etched across his face.

Then, as if on cue, five dark shapes emerged from the shadows behind him.

The largest stood toward the middle and back, while four smaller figures flanked it on either side.

My eyes widened.

I gasped.

I took several steps backward before my foot caught on something.

I fell hard onto my ass.

Turning toward the direction I'd been looking, my protector let out a terrifying howl before quickly turning back to me.

His eyes met mine.

“Run. Now.”

He didn't have to tell me twice.

In the two seconds it took him to transform from human to wolf, I'd already made it halfway down the block, running away from the chaos erupting behind me.

The constant cries and sounds of tearing flesh didn't make me curious enough to look back.

No.

It was the footsteps.

They were running with me.

I turned around, half expecting my protector to be there, catching up to me.

I almost smiled, thinking I was safe.

Until I saw what the footsteps belonged to.

Two of the larger beasts had caught up to me.

They were on my heels.

Too close for comfort.

Panic sent me into overdrive.

I ran faster, cutting into the cemetery that sat smack in the middle of town.

What a stupid place to put a cemetery.

Thankfully, I knew my way around the entire place and felt like I could easily outsmart the monsters chasing me.

I knew exactly where I was going.

Through the cemetery.

In and out of the forest.

Through the clearing.

Easy.

Just on the other side of the small clearing was my neighborhood, where I knew I'd be protected if the two beasts followed me that far.

How stupid was I to actually have hope?

I ran as hard as I could, dodging every grave in my path.

I didn't have to look back to know I wasn't alone.

The beasts' labored breathing was loud and clear, as if they were running right alongside me, even though they were still a ways behind.

Hope began to diminish.

Until I realized just how lucky I was about to be.

Thirty yards ahead of me were the affluent families' mausoleums, all packed closely together.

It would be difficult for any creature larger than a human to maneuver through them.

I entered the maze of the dead just in time to hear howls of frustration directly behind me.

I smirked to myself.

If I stopped to laugh at the dimwitted creatures, the already small amount of time I had would disappear.

The howls of desperation slowly faded.

Then—

Silence.

Too quiet.

I stopped running and listened.

Nothing.

Then came the sound of scraping metal.

Bricks shifting.

Shit.

I spun around.

The growling and heavy breathing had gotten closer.

Much closer.

And then I saw them.

They were running across the tops of the mausoleums.

Apparently, I hadn't considered that possibility.

Great.

I started running again.

I hadn't even noticed when the mausoleums disappeared behind me.

Trees surrounded me now.

Thankfully, all that was left was the clearing and the woods.

Lucky for me.

Too bad for the two idiots behind me.

I was great in open areas.

I also knew these woods like the back of my hand from spending far too much time out here throwing tantrums.

Before they had a chance to catch me on open land, I threw myself forward and disappeared between the trees.

Quit bragging. They're still behind you.

Soon enough, the trees were flying past me so quickly that, if I didn't know I was running for my life, I could've sworn I was driving.

Most humans can run an average of twenty-eight miles per hour, while cheetahs can reach sixty-five to seventy-five.

A wolf in human form can top at least ninety-five.

Now, in wolf form?

Ha.

I'm lucky they haven't caught me by now.

Fifteen more yards.

That's all I needed.

Then I finally reached the clearing before my neighborhood.

I was going to make it.

As a last attempt to get within a reasonable distance and catch the neighbors' attention, I pushed my legs to go faster.

A costly mistake I'd soon come to regret.

My foot caught on a tree root that had been unearthed from the ground.

I went flying.

My knees and body slammed into the dirt before my head connected with another exposed root.

Pain exploded through my skull.

I sat up quickly, but the world immediately began spinning like I was on some carnival ride.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would stop.

It didn't.

I opened them just in time to see two blurry, dark bodies moving closer.

They were growling.

Mocking me.

Like crazed hyenas.

But these weren't hyenas.

They were something far more dangerous.

Far more vicious.

These weren't creatures you'd find in a zoo, separated from you by thick glass and reinforced enclosures.

These things were free.

And I was their prey.

How had they caught up?

I had a good distance between us.

Panic surged through me as they approached.

My head buzzed.

My ears rang.

I tried to stand.

My legs gave out.

Big mistake.

The lighter-gray wolf lunged.

Its teeth clamped down around my ankle.

I screamed.

The pain was blinding.

It felt like I was being tortured.

To them, this was nothing more than a sick game.

Playing with their food before they ate it.

My screaming seemed to give them the little kick they needed.

Surely my friendly neighbors had heard that.

Right?

Both wolves began circling me.

Drool dripped from their snouts, their teeth bared as they stalked around me.

Their eyes.

That's what became my newest fear.

Suddenly, they stopped.

One directly behind me.

One directly in front.

Where were my neighbors?

The wolf in front took a step closer.

Why weren't they coming to help me?

Another step.

Didn't they hear me screaming?

Two steps this time.

The gap between us was shrinking.

Who's going to stop them?

If they had heard me and were on their way, it was already too late.

The darker-gray wolf had decided it was time to stop playing with its food.

With one powerful jump, it landed directly on top of me.

Its hot breath washed over my face.

I got a closer look at its features, the similarities it shared with its lighter companion.

But it was the eyes that made me shiver despite the warmth of the autumn night.

It stared directly into me.

Glowing black eyes.

They were the color of the deepest part of the universe, both of them drilling straight into my soul.

They looked like black holes, ready to suck every last bit of light from a dying star.

And I was that dying star.

The creature lunged.

Its teeth sank into my neck.

The pain ripped a scream from my throat.

The beast shook me violently, and all I could do was gasp for air and attempt to scream.

My voice came out strangled and wet.

I was dying. And I knew it.

The warmth drained from my body. The world became cold. My vision blurred. The darkness crept inward. The last thought that crossed my mind was simple.

I'm sorry, Mom.

I shot straight up in my bed. Thank the Goddess. I'm in my bed. It took a minute for my thick skull to process the fact that I was alive.

That I was home. Not in the clearing. Not surrounded by wolves.

Alive.

But my body was still drenched in sweat, as though I'd actually run those couple of miles home.

You were having a nightmare. That happens all the time.

True. This wasn't the first time I'd had this dream. But it felt so real. Too real. Still, I was safe. I was in my own home, protected from the Forgotten.

The Dark Ones.

I placed a hand over my heart, feeling it pounding beneath my palm, and forced myself to take long, deep breaths.

That should help.

It did.

Mostly.

It didn't change the fact that I was sweating like I'd just run three marathons.

I pushed myself out of bed and walked toward my window.

Slowly, I opened it. Cool night air brushed against my skin as I looked out over my quiet neighborhood.

I smiled.

No Forgotten.

I looked one more time just to be sure before closing the window and walking back toward my bed.

Safe.

I was safe.

I climbed beneath the covers and settled back down.

If I had looked deeper into the shadows, past the faint glow of the streetlights and into the darkest corners of the night, I would've seen him.

A dark silhouette leaning against the brick fencing.

Watching me.

Waiting for me.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

The small flame briefly illuminated his face before disappearing.

A slow smile spread across his lips.

He took a drag and watched my window.

“Don't worry.”

His dark green eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.

“You're safe.”