Chapter 209: Real Shadows
- RORY -
I wake up, twisted in my sheets and clutching the pillow that still holds Luciano’s scent. It’s dark now. The sun has set, and I shiver against the cold that shouldn’t exist. Because it was humid when I went to bed. It shouldn’t be cold.
The terror from my nightmare ripples back through me, because I’m alone now. And I want to bawl my eyes out for the effect that dream had on me. It felt so real. It didn’t happen, and yet somehow... somehow it feels like it did.
The chill in the dark room isn’t helping dispel the fantasy. It only makes it seem more real. I was there. Luciano was there.
A noise from the next room makes every hair I have stand on end, and for a terrifying moment, I’m frozen—unable to move. This is what it means to be paralyzed by fear. It’s a real thing. I could literally lay here and let the most horrifying thing creep up on me—getting close enough to strike—instead of running or fighting back and giving myself a chance to get away. I know, because I’ve made that mistake before.
I locked my door earlier—when we left this morning. I know I locked my door. I’m not an idiot. And I locked it again after Luciano left.
I consider sliding under the bed to hide. Burying myself in the sheets. Pulling out the knife and jabbing at the darkness.
Instead, I slowly and quietly untangle myself, listening intently for any more sounds. There aren’t any. Maybe it was just a monkey banging against the window or something. Or some other exotic creature that comes out at night.
Once I’m on my feet, I find the knife at my bedside and unsheathe it—hands shaking with the possibility of actually needing to use it. My fingers grip it so tightly they start to ache, and I tiptoe toward the bedroom door that I left open. It looks like a gaping mouth letting the darkness in.
Where did I leave my phone? I glance back at the darkness of the bedroom, seeing only the tangle of the light colored sheets. It’s in there somewhere. It would typically be buried in my pocket, but I put on a dress before bed. A fucking dress.
I’m not about to trap myself back in that room searching for my phone. I’m already in sight of the door that leads out to the bridge. I can see the faint outline of Luciano’s cabina from here.
Nothing moves in the kitchen or out on the deck. Nothing makes any sound at all. It’s too quiet.
The memory of the shadows from my nightmare and the way they grew, elongating into giant demons that invaded Luciano assaults my mind. At that same moment, as if the timing is synced to my thoughts, a shadow in the kitchen grows and elongates into the form of man rising from where he was crouched, and I make a run for the door. No hesitation. No time.
The latch is undone, and I’m out on the bridge in an instant—heart hammering away in my chest so loudly that I imagine it giving up on my slow body and just going alone... erupting from my chest. A terrified, bleeding heart not realizing that it has no chance but to die without me.
I realize at once that I’m barefoot—not having gone to bed with the intention of needing a quick escape—and I trip on the way, scraping my knees against the rugged wood in my haste. But that is nothing against the searing pain of the blade that slices through my left hand. I only feel it for a moment though, because a heavy weight rocks the bridge behind me. Someone has joined me on the suspension bridge, and the realization has me scurrying up despite the pain.
Without looking back to see who it is, I grab for the knife and sprint the rest of the way—not feeling the ground. Not feeling the air in my lungs. Not feeling my body as it attempts to take flight away from the danger that may only be imagined but that is real enough to the fears lurking in my mind.
Luci’s door is locked. There aren’t any lights on. I pound on the doors and walls anyway as I run around the exterior, the flat of my uninjured palm smacking against the glass. But he’s not here. I know he’s not here.
It’s too late to go back the other way to try Raya and Dex’s cabin, so I take off across the next bridge. It leads to a firmer elevated walkway with two options. Left to the beach or right to the main building.
I turn right, not slowing my speed. Several yards later, the glow of warm artificial light and soft chatter greets me. The outdoor dining patio is just up ahead, and the first sliver of insecurity slices through me.
I have to calm down. Am I imagining this? Is it the dreams making me panic or is it reality?
I’m going to look crazy running through a crowd of people while I’m bleeding and holding a knife if the bad guy vanishes. If I’m pointing a finger at shadows.
They might actually lock me up or something. They might think I’m a danger, and I am... aren’t I? Isn’t that exactly what I am?
I look behind me at the empty walkway. No one is there now that I’ve reached the light. There’s only darkness and the the even darker shadows of trees feathering down across the wood.
"Shit," I mumble, fighting angry tears and tremors.
Did I really just imagine all of that? I can’t let Raya know this happened. I can’t... I can’t ruin this vacation and wedding for her. I would never forgive myself.
I look down at my shaking hands and force the knife blade back into its place. It’s slippery and red with my blood now, but there’s nothing I can do about that.
I don’t have a pocket, so I clip it under my arm—fumbling with the sleeveless fabric there, hoping the dark blue dress doesn’t show how awful of a bloody mess I am but desperate to conceal the one weapon I have despite that.
Then I wipe my hand on the skirt, wincing at the pain that sears through me with the pressure. That’s going to need stitches, and there’s nothing I can do to hide the fact that it’s bleeding.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forced with a decision. I can’t go back. Even if it’s not true that someone was in my cabin—even if I imagined that dark shadow slowly emerging from the floor in the shape of a very obvious person—I can’t do it. Hopefully Raya and Dex are still in their cabin and they won’t see me in this condition. And hopefully Luci is here somewhere, easy to find.
So I’m going to walk out into that soft, safe light and potentially face a bunch of strangers dining happily on their exotic meals looking like I emerged from a horror film. But it’s better than walking back into the darkness alone and letting it swallow me.
If there’s any chance that Luciano is out there in that light, I can take the scrutiny. If I can find him, I know I’ll be okay. He won’t think I’m crazy. He’s probably the only person I know who is more paranoid than I am.
