Read Off the Beaten Path: Eight Tales of the Paranormal Online

Authors: Jason T. Graves,Sharon Sant,Angela Roquet,Monica La Porta,Chip Putnam,D.R. Johnson,Kath Langdon

Off the Beaten Path: Eight Tales of the Paranormal (6 page)

The next morning, Janice was dismayed at finding both her mother and her aunt dead on the couch.  Since both looked happy, it was easy to rule out foul play.   The coroner quickly stated that, while strange that both would die at the same time, she could find nothing abnormal about the deaths.  In her examination of the corpses, the coroner barely noticed the pair of small, odd marks on each body.  Given the ladies’ ages, she quickly dismissed the marks as two more of the many skin blemishes that covered the bodies.

The two sisters were laid to rest side-by-side the following week.  The next morning, when Janice and her cousin checked upon the graves, they were surprised to find a single rose sitting atop each pile of freshly-turned soil.

And now to a different spin on seething romance… in a darker, bloodier tale by author D.R. Johnson.

 

 

 

 

To Darkness I Fall

D.R. Johnson

 

 

 

Nikolas Ware, a co-worker and good friend, had been missing now for nearly two weeks.  I had spent most of that time with my stomach tied in knots, wondering where he had disappeared too.  As I headed home from a late shift at work, I knew tonight would be no different as worry already plagued me.

I had attempted to avoid the same rut tonight and planned to have drinks with Cheryl down at the Caves Lounge, our local dive, but she had bailed on me at the last minute.  To make matters worse, Matthew, our misogynistic senior editor, caught me before I made my escape from the office. 

“Will you have the
Reidy articles ready for me by morning?”  His deep voice rumbled as I tried to slink past his office.  I looked in to see Matt’s blue eyes staring at me over the rims of his glasses.  He wore his salt and pepper gray hair slicked back from his thin face and I thought he looked like a letch.

“I just have some finishing touches on the Snowden project.  I’ll be able to g
et the Reidy file to you by mid-morning,” I replied, doing my best to sound jovial.  I thought I did a decent job of keeping my annoyance under wraps.

Matt made a huge show of removing his glasses and leaning back in his chair, puffing out his chest as he crossed his arms in front of him.  I hated when he did that.  It was the position he took when he wanted to make the appearance of looking down at me, even though I was the one standing.  If he thought he intimidated me, he was wrong.

“Do you need me to tidy up those articles for you, Laura?  I’ll do it if you can’t.”  The contempt in his voice let me know this was no offer for help.  His snide remark didn’t need to be said.  I never missed a deadline and he knew it.  It was just one of many opportunities Matt took to lord his position and title over his underlings.

“I’ve got it covered.”  My words were short and
clipped.  The jovial mask I had been wearing had shattered at his last comment.

“See that you do,” he said, as if he had the upper hand in a verbal struggle.  I refused to play along.  I took his comment as a dismissal and had already turned to go when he leaned forward against his desk. 
“Red looks good on you.”

Pure shock spun my head around to stare at him.  The change in the tone of his voice was palpable, and a chill ran down my spine.  He had one eyebrow raised as he smirked at me.  I turned back to my original course without a word.

As I stomped down the hall, his voice carried after me.  “Have a good evening.”

Fuming with anger, I half expected him to follow me out of his office just to further my torment.  Stepping into the empty elevator, I counted the seconds as the doors slid closed and gave me sanctuary from him.  I was free from him, for the night at least.  Free to lose myself in my worry.

I grumbled and cursed under my breath as I stomped the few blocks home and rode the elevator up to my empty apartment.  Cheryl’s abandonment and Matthew’s chauvinism were on the forefront of my mind, but as soon as I stepped into my dark, lonely home and turned the lock, all of my work problems faded away.  My mind turned back to Nikolas.

Nik
had only been with Lankin Company for a few months, and we had recently become friends.  I was hoping that we could become even better friends, and I was sure I felt the same vibes coming from Nik.  With his dark, smoldering eyes; rich, baritone voice; and school boy charm, he had been able to capture my attention, not to mention my late night fantasies.

I figured all of that was over now since my mind couldn’t stop trudging through one bad scenario after another.  Cheryl had been quick to point out that we really didn’t know much about him.  Because the likelihood of a full grown man getting kidnapped was pretty slim, she favored the rumor that he was a drifter in trouble with the law.

I always snorted and rolled my eyes at her when she went off on her romanticized theories.  She did it mostly because she knew how much it annoyed me.  I was sure of it.  None of it changed the fact that I wasn’t buying into any of it, though.  Nik seemed so down to earth.  He wasn’t the type to just drop things and run, so my mind always landed on foul play.  I found no comfort in that scenario either.

Heaving a weary sigh, I kicked off my heels and padded over to the fridge to grab a beer.  As I passed the dining room mirror and caught a glimpse of myself in my new, blood-red, silk shirt, I groaned and stomped my foot in agitation.  Matt’s creepy words came back to me and I couldn’t get the thing off fast enough.

I threw it on the table as if it burned me.  Turning back to the fridge, I mourned the loss of what had been my new favorite article of clothing.  Now I wouldn’t be caught dead in it.

Popping the top off my beer, I cast a look back at myself in the mirror.  Wearing nothing but my black pencil skirt and plain chemise, I looked like a hussy.  Pulling the clips from my hair, I shook out the dark strands, allowing them to bounce around my shoulders.  Striking a seductive pose, I winked at myself and giggled.  Too bad
Nik never saw me like this.

That thought sobered my mood quickly, and I turned to the balcony to stare out at the city.

“Where are you, Nikolas?” I whispered to the glass.  The lights beckoned to those that sought the night life, as the evening gloom gave way to darkness.

I had nothing else to do, so I remained standing there for many moments, occasionally sipping on my beer.  My
mind dwelled on that last night I had spent with Nik before he disappeared, reliving every moment as best my memory would allow.

 

A few of us from the office had met at the Caves for a round or two of drinks before calling it a night.  As the others trickled out to head for home, Nik and I found ourselves alone in a booth at the back of the bar.  We had talked for what seemed like hours, about anything and everything.

At one point, talk of Matthew had bubbled to the surface.  It hadn’t been my ideal topic of conversation, but I felt the need to vent my frustrations.  I wasn’t all that surprised to
hear Nik confess he had butted heads with Matthew a few times.  When I told Nik about his sexist behavior, he was appalled.  I was skeptical at first about how affected he was by my revelation, but during the course of our conversation, I began to realize that he was sincere.

At the end of the night, as
Nik was escorting me on my short walk home, he told me he would talk to a friend about Matthew and find out if there was any recourse available.  “I promise I’ll find a way to help you with Matt.”  He had said to me, smiling down in a sweet school-boyish way.

“And I always keep my promises.”

I had blushed in response, fully ready to surrender to the idea that Nik was my hero.  The night had ended, as he kissed my cheek, with a promise he would talk to me tomorrow.  That was the promise he didn’t keep.

My sigh was mournful and full of longing.  Deciding to grab a blanket to cover my shoulders and protect my modesty, I opened the sliding glass door to step out on the hard, cold concrete and let the sounds of the night envelope me.  I took in a deep breath of the crisp night air and lost myself in the calming darkness.

“Hello, Laura,” a smooth, baritone voice shattered my serenity.  It whispered to me, caressing my name slowly and dragging it out as it faded away.  I screamed before he went silent, jumping back against the railing, my bottle slipping from my hand to shatter on the concrete in a foamy mess of glass and suds.

“Don’t move.”  The dark figure in the corner was patting his hands against the air as if to calm me.  “Don’t move.  We don’t want you to cut yourself.”

My heart was doing a rendition of a five-piece drum solo, and I was struggling to hold onto my consciousness from the sudden head rush.  The initial fright I had felt was quickly fading into shock as I recognized the intruder.


Nik?”  My voice came out breathy, barely there, but the dark shadow heard me.  He stepped forward just enough that the dim light coming from inside my apartment lit his face.  “Nik!”

I screamed with excitement, stepping forward without thinking.  A split second later I squealed in pain as a glass shard sliced into the bottom of my foot.  “Dammit!”

Biting off the curse, I found myself falling back against the rail again.  Lifting my foot to look at the offending shard, I kept glancing back at Nik.  I was still bubbling over with excitement, despite the pain.  He had receded back into the shadows again, as far away from me as he could possible get on the tiny balcony.

“Where have you been?  How did you even get up here?”  I jittered, as my eyes jumped from him to the rickety fire escape and back again.  I finally looked down to inspect my injury.  The cut didn’t seem so bad.  The glass had barely penetrated the arch of my foot.  Gathering my courage against the pain, I clasped the small shard with my fingers and pulled it free.  Bright red droplets of blood splattered on the concrete.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice full of concern.

“Sure,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes at my own
stupidity.  I pulled the blanket from my shoulders to wipe away the blood, not caring if Nik saw me half clothed.  It was easier to replace a blanket than carpet.  “Come inside while I clean this up.  Then you’re going to tell me where you’ve been!”

I used the blanket to get myself from the balcony to the kitchen without spilling a drop of blood, and proceeded to bandage my wound while casting eager glances at the open balcony door. 
Nik still had not followed me inside.  My mind began to create more scenarios, weaving doubt where there had only been excitement before.  I reminded myself I didn’t know Nik as well as I wanted to.  Over our short friendship, fantasies and wayward thoughts had filled in pieces of the puzzle I was desperate to put together.  By the time I was done with my bandage, a healthy amount of fear had wedged itself into my mind.

Why is he here now?

With trepidation, I stepped slowly toward my balcony.  The night wind was playing with the curtains, causing them to billow back into the apartment and give the room an eerie effect.  That wasn’t helping me win back my courage.


Nik?” I asked.  The uncertainty in my voice rang in my ears.

I paused in the middle of my living room floor, waiting.  The lights shown off the broken glass on the balcony, and I was considering fetching the broom and dustpan to clean it up when the shadow of
Nik’s form moved into the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he stepped across the threshold.  The dim light surrounded him, and the broken bottle was forgotten.  “I never meant to startle you.”

A part of me realized that I should be indignant or, at the very least, scared.  However, as soon as I saw him, all the doubt, insecurities, and fear melted away.  His eyes captured me.  Dark and smoldering, they stared into my depths, my soul.  I forgot how to breathe.

“Are you okay?” he said, taking two more steps toward me before stopping.  Somehow, I mustered a nod in answer as my eyes drank in his appearance.  He wore brown cowboy boots, a dark pair of jeans, and a tight, black, V-neck T-shirt that was probably at least two sizes too small.  It clung to every overly-defined muscle on his chest, and I wanted to rip it off him.

His dark brown hair – longer than I remembered – had fallen down into his face.  I wasn’t used to seeing it so unkempt.  At work, every hair had always been perfectly in place.  His new, careless style was sexy, and had me wanting to run my fingers through it.

By the time I met his eyes again, his concern had fled, replaced by a knowing smile.  My eyes lingered on his lips for a moment, so full and beautiful.  I wanted to be kissing them, tasting them.  I felt my body flushing from head to toe.

I shook off my daze, feeling ridiculous.  Stumbling over to the couch, I fell back into the soft cushions, doing my best to drum up my resolve.  I wanted to at least act like a respectable woman, even if I didn’t feel that way.  That was going to be a difficult task considering my attire; I still looked the part of the hussy.

“Laura.”  He whispered my name the same way he had done earlier.  It was a long, drawn-out caress that made my skin tingle with anticipation.  I looked up at him, and my desires flared again.  He knelt in front of me, but still kept his distance.  I wished he wouldn’t.

“What happened to you?” I asked, unable to steady my voice.  He captured my gaze again, and that’s when I noticed his eyes were like liquid onyx.  As I waited for him to answer, I stared into the swirling pools of black and tried to remember if his eyes had been this dark before.

“I made a friend.  He led me down a path I had to take.  I want to make you the same offer.”

I heard his words, but I didn’t understand.  Heat was rolling off me in waves, and I was finding it hard to concentrate.  Somewhere, in the far back of my mind, warning bells were going off, but I ignored them.


Lankin has already marked you as a job deserter, but maybe we can get your position back if you just explain to them what happened.”  The words tumbled out of my mouth even as I knew he would never step foot back at their offices – at least not to work for them.

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