Darkness

All I can see is red, burning hot red.

Is this hell?

This must be hell.

I am currently burning in the fires of hell.

So I’m dead and burning in hell for eternity?

How did I get here? How did I die?

I remember…nothing.

When I try to think back, I can remember nothing. There is only darkness preceding this blazing red.

Something interrupts my red hot thoughts. It’s cold and wet. Cold drops of water are falling on me. But why would it be raining in hell? I can’t see any rain. Are my eyes even open? Am I still alive?

Forcing my eyes open, I feel the freezing rain start pouring down on my face. The rain rushes towards me like stars in hyperspace. I’m lying down looking up at rain. Where am I?

Carefully I look around. I’m on the ground, right next to a dumpster, covered haphazardly in cardboard boxes. Slowly I sit up, pushing the boxes off me to find I’m in a deserted alleyway. The only light back here is the full moon shining eerily above me. How did I get here? I try so hard to remember but there is nothing, just darkness in my mind.

My legs shake as I stand up surveying the alleyway. Slowly, using the wall for support, I make my way to the sidewalk and see a few people hurrying by. I try to adjust the skirt of my black cocktail dress, but it doesn’t go any further down my shivering legs, and barely covers my ass. I can feel the tear in my black tights as cold airbrushes up against my thighs. A building has DINER written in faded blue neon lights outside, and there are a few people eating inside. Pain is gnawing at my stomach, so I venture across the street to the diner, my black patent heels clacking with every step across the pavement.

The lights inside are so bright that I have to squint otherwise its hurts too much. I pick out an empty booth in the back and wait for the server come. It reeks of sweat and body odor inside the diner, but it is warmer than outside.

“Hey hun!” A busty old woman in a polyester teal dress and a white apron comes and sits down across from me. “I’m Darla and I’ll be your waitress this evening.” There is the glimmer of a grimace as she scans my face.

“Thanks,” I cough on the word. “

You ok, hun? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Yeah, I feel like it too.”

“I’ll get you some coffee, water, and a piece of pie. Pie makes everything better.”

I’m surprised by her kindness and I start to relax. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, hun.” She waddles away and I can see her tell another waitress about me.

Why is she doing that?

Is there something wrong with me?

How bad do I look?

I rush into the bathroom to examine myself, and am taken aback at what I see in the mirror. I’m wearing not only a dress and tights, but a peacoat that looks too small to button over me. My hair is auburn, tangled in a curly and frizzy mess from lying in the street. My eyes are a dark blue, almost gray, with smudged make-up around then like a halo. There are faded freckles speckling my pale skin. I look gaunt; there are bags under my eyes, like I haven’t slept in days. No wonder the waitresses were talking about me. I look like death.

When I come back to my booth, the waitress has dropped off the water, coffee, and pie. It’s cherry pie, and I can see the bright red cherry filing oozing out of the sides. It looks like blood. I take a sip of water but my mouth still feels dry. The coffee is still too hot to drink so I go for a bite of the pie. It smells repulsive, and my stomach starts to turn when I put the bite in my mouth. Carefully, I spit it up into a napkin and push it, along with the plate of pie onto the other side of the table. The waitress comes waddling over, “Everything ok, hun?”

“Yeah, my stomach is just really upset that’s all.”

“Hmm, ok hun, I’m just gonna leave this here then.” She places the bill next to the coffee mug. “Whenever you’re ready or if you want something else just let me know.”

“Thanks.”

She smiles and walks back to gossip wit the other waitress. I slide the bill over and it reads $6.02. Damn, I don’t know if I have money. The black pea coat style jacket I have on has pockets, so I search in there and find a small wallet and some keys. Inside the wallet is about $50 in different bills, and a Virginia license belonging to Delilah Rodgers. The girl in the picture has auburn hair, dark blue eyes, freckles, and a smile. That has to be me! I’m Delilah! The girl in the picture looks so happy, nothing like the girl I saw in the mirror. But I have to be Delilah, why else would I have this ID?

The license has an address on it and I decide to go there to get answers about what happened to me. I leave $10 on top of the bill and rush out of the diner. It takes a while before a cab drives by, but I manage to wave him down and give him the address on the license.

“Ok, that’s about 10 minutes away.”

“Thanks.” I sit back, hoping that soon the darkness will be cleared up. The driver doesn’t say and word and neither do I. I’m trying to remember anything and I still can’t. I know I’m Delilah Rodgers and where I live but that’s it.

Nothing else comes to mind.

As I’m starting out the window I notice we’ve turned onto South Street, which is where I apparently live so I get ready to get out of the car. But the driver doesn’t stop.

We go right past the house marked 9552.

“Hey, my house was back there.”

“We’re not going to your house.”

Every muscle tenses up but I try to act calm. “Take me to my house, please.”

I see his snaggletooth smile in the rearview mirror.

“No,” He laughs, “We’re going somewhere else.”

The fear filling my body quickly turned into rage. I want to strangle him but I can’t reach him because of the fiberglass divider in-between us. He stopped at the end of the street where the streetlight was out, laughing as he let himself out of the car. As soon as he opened the door I kicked him in the groin. He doubled over in pain but it didn’t stop him. I started kicking, but he swatted my legs away. His calloused hand reach out and grabbed my throat and it hurt but I could still breath. I reach around on the floor of the cab looking for anything that can help me.

I find a flashlight, and with all my might I start bashing him over and over again on the side of the side. I can hear cracking and soon the flashlight is covered in dark red blood. I didn’t stop until he collapsed on top of me. I pushed him off of me and looked to see if he was alive or not.

The blood gushing from his head made my stomach ache with longing. My hand went out and touched the warm blood coming from his wound.

Without realizing it, my hand drifted up towards my mouth and the bloody fingers landed on my tongue. The blood spread across my tongue and I felt a sharp pain in my mouth. My canine teeth were protruding out of my mouth, cutting through my gums as they elongated. The pain only lasted an instant.

To my surprise his blood was delicious.

I wanted more.

Coming to my senses, I realized I had probably just killed a man and was now thinking about drinking his blood.

Something is terribly wrong with me. I jumped out of the cab, and tried to slam the door behind me but the driver’s legs were sticking out.

Quickly I scanned to see if anyone else was around to witness as I shoved his body further into the cab and shut the door. I ran as fast as I could into the house marked 9552.

The door was locked, so I took out the keys in the jacket pocket and tried the first one in the door. It slid in, and when I twisted it to the right the door opened. The house was completely dark but I could see just fine. I shut the door behind me and locked it. “Hello?” I called out but no one answered. I flipped the lights on so the house wouldn’t feel as creepy.

I was in the living room. There was a TV mounted to the wall, and surrounding it was a small black sofa and a matching big recliner chair. To my left were stairs and if I walked straight I would be in the dining room, because I saw a small wooden kitchen table. I chose the stairs, and they creaked with every step I took.

Upstairs there was the option to go left into one room or right into another. Something was pulling me into the room on the right, so I cautiously headed over. When I opened the door it was dark inside. There was a bed, a vanity, and pictures topping a dresser in the corner. This must be my room. I was about to flip on the light when I heard a voice order, “Don’t do that.”

The voice made me jump but I did as I was told.

That voice, I have heard that voice before.

Before the darkness, I can remember hearing that charming voice.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Delilah.”

Suddenly a bag was shoved over my head, and as I struggled to free myself from the bag something hit the top of my head. I could feel my own blood trickling down my forehead before the darkness took over again.