Daddy’s Girl

”Please. Help. Someone help.”

The small frightened voice was carried on the breeze. A frantic whisper across my eardrums sending a shiver down my spine. Cocking my head to one side I cupped a hand around my ear, listening for all I was worth. It sounded like a little girl. It had to be Carla. Who else could it possibly be? Frantically I searched, eyes swiveling to and fro, ears straining for the slightest noise. Leaves rustled in the breeze. Somewhere a predatory owl hooted, obscuring the sound of her voice. Another faint whisper. That way!

“Carla, I’m coming! Daddy’s coming!” I pushed through the foliage. A protruding root tripped me, causing me to stumble to my knees. I clambered back up. A branch whipped at my face leaving a bloody scratch. It was like the very forest was hindering me in my search. Nothing could stop me from finding my little girl. I barely noticed when a thorn vine grabbed at me, furrowing a crimson slash by my knee.

I had gone to check on my little girl before heading to bed myself. Her room at the cabin was dark when I opened the door so I crept inside, placing my feet carefully so as not to awaken her. Carla had had a long day and was missing mommy. At eight years old she didn’t understand why we had to stay at Grandpa’s old cabin in the woods for a while. I couldn’t see much other than vague outlines by the moonlight filtering through the curtain, but it was too quiet. Why was the curtain rustling? I knew I had closed the window when I put Carla to bed. Did she open it for the breeze? Stealthily I walked past the bed to the window. I closed it, shutting out the night sounds of the forest. Turning to the bed I reached out a hand, finding her pillow. Carla? Was she under the covers? I patted the blanket. Nothing. My heart had started pounding.

Frantically I yanked the blanket back. The bed was empty. Dropping to my knees I looked under the bed. Nothing but shadows and dust bunnies. Dropping to my stomach I reached under to make sure. “CARLA!” I yelled. Jumping back up I rushed to the closet. When I yanked open the door her coat almost gave me a heart attack. Did she go to the bathroom? Frantically I ran from the room and down the short hallway. Nothing. “Carla, where are you honey?” I called. Silence. I began hyperventilating. My breath hitched, having a difficult time getting past the lump in my throat. Quickly I searched the rest of the small cabin, praying she was playing hide and seek. Finding no sign of my precious girl, I ran out to check the car. Empty. Engine cold as the lump of fear in my chest.

Cupping my hands around my mouth I screamed out. “Carla! Where are you!” I ran back inside to grab a flashlight. I couldn’t call anyone. My cell was dead and there was no service out here anyway. Besides, who could I call? Evelyn wasn’t a choice. The thought of Evelyn sent a chill down my spine. Ever since she had started staying late at work with her new boss, Evelyn had been acting strangely. She was pale, wan, like she was getting sick. Her normal vibrancy muted. She had started sleeping late and refusing to go out in the daytime. Then I had found her cradling our cat, Ricardo, in her hands. She was holding the bloody carcass by her face, almost like she was eating it. She let out what sounded like a hiss when I walked into the kitchen. “What happened?” I had queried.

When Evelyn lowered her hands, still gripping the cat, her face had blood smeared on it. “The neighbor’s dog,” she replied. Her eyes had been flat. Emotionless, dark.

I buried the cat in the yard and placed a marker by it. I wondered why the lacerations didn’t look like marks from a dog attack. They were only on the neck. But, who was I to know for sure? Maybe the dog had snared the cat in his jaws and flung it side to side. When I asked the neighbor he said his dog hadn’t been anywhere except his own yard and he hadn’t seen any sign of a cat fight.

That night when I went in to see why Evelyn’s bedtime story was taking so long I saw her leaning over the bed. Evelyn’s face was in the crook of Carla’s neck and shoulder. What the hell? When she lifted her head I saw a small trail of blood. I had rushed over and pulled Carla from the bed. My little girl’s eyes were glazed and she was listless.

“What the hell, Evelyn?”

“I noticed blood on her neck so I was checking. I think she may have been bitten by a rat. Can you take care of her? I have to head to work. There’s bandaids and antibiotics in the medicine cabinet.”

When Evelyn left I sat and thought for a while. Something was certainly not right here. Ever since she started working nights. It was like she was possessed. Pulling out a suitcase, I packed some clothes and necessities, putting them in the trunk of my car. Gathering my little girl up in my arms I noted how her head lolled like a rag doll. Her breathing was hoarse. Placing Carla in the back seat, I had covered her with a blanket and headed to Grandpa’s old cabin… Now this.

I heard a noise from above. Turning the flashlight up I almost jumped out of my skin when a large pair of luminous eyes were caught in the beam. The owl fluffed his feathers, looked at me disdainfully like I was trespassing, and flew off. “Carla! Honey! Where are you baby?”

A very faint whisper came back. “Over here daddy… I need help.”

I bulled past a bush and saw her. Carla lay sprawled on the ground. Her Sailor Moon pajamas were covered in filth and her face was streaked with dirt like she had been crying. I sobbed in relief and ran to my baby girl.

Gathering her up in my arms I cradled her like an infant. Brushing matted hair from her little face I searched for signs of injury. She seemed okay. Thanking God, I placed her so that her head lay on my shoulder. “Honey? What happened? Are you okay? Daddy was scared to death.”

“I’m okay Daddy. Daddy, you’re bleeding and …, I’m just so hungry.” I barely jerked when her fangs sank in.