A Stranger Among Demons Ch 1

A Stranger Among Demons
by Angela Malzow, 2013

Chaper 1
  We met at a gathering.
  The people, unbeknownst to them, had been infiltrated by evil. I don't mean the idea of evil, I mean pure evil; monsters, demons, and other sorts of vile being. They were prey, hunted before they had any inkling of being the prey. Until the first scream.
  In that field, where the gathering had been held, the evening had approached. Where the sun had streaked golden paths, shadows had crept in. The people who deemed the gathering a picnic had moved on to start their bonfire.
  Just as the first cinder hit the soft, evening air so did the first screech of terror.
  From all directions they descended upon the people.
  Where I stood, my feet planted in the trampled grass, my eyes wide and unknowing, I saw him approach. He wasn't like the others. His face was human except for his glittering eyes which caught the light of the fire as a cat's would. His tall, slender, toned frame strode with confidence and deliberate purpose.
  It took a mere second to realize he was coming for me. In the back of my mind I knew he was part of the invasion, part of the screams and horror of the moment. Blood stained, malice filled faces streaked past me to chase down someone who'd managed to run.
  Yet, I was fixed. Cemented within his gaze as if he had compelled me to remain unmoving, unnoticed by the horde.
  When at last he was near enough to touch me, his arms came up abruptly and ended the slow, dream motion of the moment. Within his iron embrace I felt myself being carried, my confusion tucked neatly against the breast of his jacket.
  All I could see of his face at that angle was the narrow angles, the prominent nose and chin, the fullness of his upper lip, and the floating of his blonde hair about his head as he moved us through the night.
  The screams lessened until eventually they faded completely.
  I wasn't scared, not really, but I was overwhelmed. My heart raced and my lungs, in response, took shallow, frantic breaths. I was in shock and eventually my eyes shut of their own accord and my mind went to sleep of its own will.
  When I awoke he was gone. The light of day brought me back to reality with a vengeful ferocity that left no room for comprehension, just raw emotion.
  I mournfully wept.
  The gathering, the massacre, had been a meticulously planned camping trip for my Senior Class. We'd taken the train from chilly, snow plagued, northern Wisconsin south to Florida where we would have been for more than two weeks. All we wanted was a week of sunshine and warmth.
  Now I found myself, once again, breathing the chill of Winter.
  The alabaster sky, so thick with clouds that they resembled a wool blanket and blocked out any sign or hint of a golden sun or blue atmosphere overhead. I was outside, snow and ice and gray tones all around me yet I wasn't shaking from the cold.
  A mere discomfort of a lingering chill raised the hairs on my body but I realized only too quickly that I had no desire to move.
  As I had the evening before.
  That moment was long and agonizing, I fought the veil over my mind and eventually stood of my own accord. The man who had scooped me up and carried me away had somehow returned me to my home in Wisconsin, to my back yard to be exact.
  The man, it would seem, was gone.
  Though my mind was still being sucked into a haze where a whispering voice told me not to move, I clawed the webs away and moved my stiff legs until my hand came to rest upon the paint-chipped handle of the back door to my home.
  It opened. My mother usually left it unlocked in case my brothers or myself forgot our keys. Inside, the house was abandoned. My parents at work, my brothers at school. So I made my way upstairs to the bathroom next to my bedroom.
  Imagine my surprise when I looked into the mirror, my face yellowish in the dull glow of the old light bulbs on the vanity.
  Dark splatters and dots of red had dried to my skin. It took me but a moment to realize it was blood and another second to strip off my ruined clothing and nearly stumble into the bathtub. A shower of freezing water flushed over me before the hot water kicked in.
  I scrubbed, hard and fast, and didn't stop until I was certain that I was clean.
  With my towel wound tightly around my quaking body, I trailed droplets of water over the wood floor to my room.
  Despite the fact that I had slept the entire night, assuming it had been merely one night, I was incredibly exhausted. The energy that typically pulsed through me day and night had dissipated, fizzled out. All I could do was pull on my sweat pants, a thick sweatshirt, and tuck myself between my many layers of blankets.
  My eyes closed and when they did images of his face came back to me. More real than a hallucination or dream. Incredible details such as the paleness of his skin, the unnatural hue of his eyes that seemed to shift color, and the sentient smile that never faltered.
  Still, I had enough sanity left to tell myself it had all been a terrible dream. That when I woke up, what had happened wouldn't really have happened. My denial didn't chase away his face though and it permeated my dreams, spoke to me, assured me, comforted me- possessed me.