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 Demonic Affection  (5 ratings)by Michael J. Irwin Page 2 of 7 I never got over Sam, even though we stayed good friends, I couldn’t help finding myself wanting her back. I felt as though my world was lost because I had lost her. It wasn’t until that night that I began to lose my mind. It wasn’t until the night of what would have been out sixth year anniversary that I began to have the nightmares. * * * After searching the apartment for anything alcoholic that I could find, and failing to do so, I crawled into bed. As usual I lied there wishing for Sam to be with me, wanting her back so much I could kill. For at least two hours I laid there, thinking of the good times, and of all my failed attempts to bring her back, when finally I managed to drift off. I was awakened by the familiar sounds of the slushy machine, and when I opened my eyes, there I stood behind the counter in the Oscars. I quickly gained my senses figuring I’d fallen asleep on the job. I looked about too see if anyone had been watching when I noticed Sam standing over by one of the shelves looking for something. Suddenly I heard the bell that sounded when someone opened the door and I looked over toward the pane glass door, which was still closed. I looked back at Sam and there was the oddest-looking man standing with her. He stood about six and a half feet tall and was dressed in a long flowing, black robe that hid his face. It appeared as if they were arguing about something, when without warning he looked up at me, though his face was shadowed I could see two glowing red eyes staring at me, as if piercing my soul and trying to consume me. Sam slammed a fist into the man chest and tried to run but he only grabbed a hold of her and threw her against the shelf. I yelled words of protest and began to hop the counter, when the cloaked figure drew a gun and shot Sam in the chest. I froze as he proceeded to shoot her twice more in the stomach, then finally once in the head. I felt my entire body shake as I tried my hardest to scream. There I sat on the counter looking and the bloody body of the woman I loved, and this monster stood above her not even flinching. He looked at me once more with those beady red eyes and gave the most sadistic laugh one could imagine. It was a laugh that fit perfectly with Chets sadistically cheery hangover look, but this was very far from being cheery. It was the laugh of a man who had lost control of his mind. How I wanted to storm up to him and throttle his neck, but I was unable to move, and just seconds later he faded into the darkness and was gone. As if heavy weights had been removed from my shoulders, I stumbled forward off the counter with all my previous efforts. I tumbled to my hands and knees as my right hand fell to rest upon the horrid river of blood flowing from Sam’s lifeless body. Almost as if the river was flowing through my eyes, my vision became tinted that horrific bloodstained color and every thing blurred away. I sprung up in a terrible sweat, sitting in my bed in my apartment. My immediate reaction was to call Sam, find out if she was ok. I leaped from the bed and rummaged quickly through a pile of cloths and papers to find my phone, but just as I was about to call I realized I had nothing to say. What was I going to do, tell her I had a scary dream and was afraid to go back to bed? I’d sound crazy non-the less. I set the phone down and climbed back into bed, where I laid for the rest of the night, unable to sleep, afraid the dream would return and the visions of Sam I couldn’t escape that dancing in my head. When morning came I dressed and headed for campus. After a good hour of searching I found Sam, and to my thankfulness, she was perfectly fine. I must have been awful shaky cause she kept asking what was wrong and if I had been drinking again. I quietly said no, and just then the tears began to fill my eyes, I quickly turned away and told Sam I had to go. I skipped my first class and waited most the morning in front of the lab for Chet to come around. When he finally did show I told him that I wanted to skip class cause I had to talk to him. Chet, not being one to argue about skipping class, agreed and we headed toward the campus Dunkin’ Donuts. I told him all about the dream and he began to laugh that painstaking sadistic laugh which now sparked the images in my head. Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Michael J. Irwin, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
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