Deborah paid the driver and bolted out of the cab, almost tripping over her own feet. As she raced up the steps to her three story town home, she dropped the keys. She noticed the cab had driven off, and the street was deserted and silent.
Dim lighting was a major concern for her at this point in time. The silver moon, which now resided high in the starlit sky was veiled behind a band of billowy clouds. Deborah's stomach twisted into knots. She wished with every fiber of her being the sun would rise, but much to her dismay, that was five hours away.
Cursing beneath her breath, she bent down and snatched the keys from the ground. As she continued up three more steps, an eerie feeling made the hairs on her body stand on end. It felt like someone was right on her heels. Frantically, she fumbled for the house key. The presence made itself known, and the force beckoned her once more. She gasped as thick fog, possessing a life all its own filled the street.
"Oh God, please help me!" She shouted out. After finding the key, Deborah proceeded to unlock the front door with clumsy, fumbling hands. She turned again, gasping at how the fog had thickened. She experienced a small shred of comfort as she crossed the threshold to her expensive home.
Before closing the door behind her, she made the horrible mistake of viewing the street again. There, in the mist stood an unmoving figure in black. Her chest tightened, and the palms of her hands became sweaty as she discovered fog and the figure were the only things she could see. Manevolent laughter infiltrated her mind, sending a chill down her spine.
"Leave me alone!" Deborah screamed at the top of her lungs, fearing for her life and sanity. Tears brimmed in her eyes and splashed on her cheeks as she felt the darkness invade her aura.
With shaky hands, she slammed the door shut and latched the dead bolt lock. Clutching her chest, she bumped into the ottoman as she searched for the light switch; as though it would make a difference in calming her fears.
She stood, scanning over the plush living room to ease her fragile eggshell mind. Her entire body shuddered, and her limbs were heavy as she trudged over to the sliding glass doors to ensure they were locked. She cursed herself, and loathed the feeling at the lack of control over her shivering body. She was not used to this feeling of helplessness.
A thud on the outside of her home startled Deborah, forcing her to check all three levels of her home. The home where she no longer possessed peace of mind. She bit her lip in utter frustration as she fled down the stairs. To her relief, the basement was secure, as were the rooms on the third level. Tired, she craved the comfort of her bed, and sleep, but at this point, that was not possible.
Deborah flopped on her bed and flicked on the television. The night's events replayed themselves in her mind, and drifted to the one who sought to drive her insane. She cringed, because now the erotic experience at the party made itself known. It was as though someone allowed her access to that part of her mind which had been shut down earlier.
The man with sandy blond hair flashed in her mind. She closed her eyes, fighting against the urge to masturbate. He was the one who offered her such exquisite torture, there in the presence of the entire office. This person was the one who stalked her, now taking up residence outside her very home. He was no mortal man, she knew. Her gut twisted as she pondered what he was.
There would be no peaceful sleep tonight. Succumbing her tired body to it could mean her demise. One 'o clock, she murmured to herself. She rubbed her arms, to ward off the chill she was experiencing, and turned as she spied something move out the corner of her eye.
"Hello!" There was no way in hell he could have gotten in the house, but then again, this phantom creature hid in the wake of an unnatural fog. It was quite possible he could do anything. She called out again.
"Look, I'm going to call the police!" Unfortunately, that brought her no comfort. Deborah whisked out her BlackBerry and screamed at the lack of bars it displayed. Try as she may, 9-1-1 was not accessible to her. She screamed as she heard footsteps in the hallway. They were heavy, slow, and menacing, striking fear down the center of her psyche.
"What do you want?" Deborah slid off the bed as tears streamed down her face. On all fours, she retreated to her large walk in closet and quietly closed the doors.
"You." A voice called through the locked door. The voice was accompanied by a scratching sound, like claws. She squeezed her eyes shut and inched her way into a corner in the closet. She picked up one of her stiletto heels. She'd have no problem taking this thing's eye out.
"Who the hell are you?" Deborah swallowed hard as she realized this was possibly her last moment on earth. The image of the phantom she encountered in the street embedded itself in her mind, and a chill sliced through her; turning the blood in her veins to ice water. The scratching sound started again, this time louder. He was intentionally stoking fear in her.
"I am your salvation, and your damnation." His voice grew louder, he was now in the room. "I am the one you betrayed, long ago. I am the one who will reap the rewards of laying your soul to waste!"
The voice was deep, and erotic, dulling her senses. It was demonic and angelic at the same time. Unable to move, like at the party, Deborah released a whimper from her lips. Heart pounding so hard, it hurt, throat so dry, it ached; she screamed aloud as the presence flung the closet doors open.
Through the fabric of her clothes, she spied haunting blue, glowing eyes. The thing, this demon, or whatever he was inhaled. She could hear his breathing, and smell the slight stench of death. How could she have known what death smelled like?
"I hear the pounding of your heart. It calls to me, my beauty, my sweetest Josephine." The creature inhaled again, "Ah, the blood coursing through your veins, sounds like waves of the ocean, hitting the sandy shores of a small island."
Deborah screamed as hands of ice tightened around her ankles, and an unseen force pulled her from the the closet. Something made her drop the shoe, and she whimpered. She couldn't move now, and prayed for freedom, far from the demon seeking possession over her. In all this chaos, she observed the bedroom door, which somehow was still closed.
Something pushed her flat on her back, and held her there. She looked up at the figure as light from the television caressed his pale features. Sweat beaded her brow, and her hands were clammier than before. The presence was strong, and penetrated her mind again. Her body froze and a scream died in her throat. She could barely speak as her mind clouded over once again.
"Wh--what do you want from me?" Those words were all Deborah could manage. The creature knelt next to her. She struggled to move away, and cursed when she could not.
