Though the street was sparsely populated at eleven pm, Clare Matteson felt a strange sensation crawl up her neck and arms. Like she was being watched. Or maybe followed.
She'd felt 'the stare' before in Pensacola and Key West, cities she lived in for approximately six months each before he found her. She swiped her phone and sent a text to the only person who knew her history and would understand.
Aunty. I feel it again. I think he's here. Please help me.
Clare quickened her pace, heart racing, to where her Fiat 500 was parked, in front of a closed store. Her phone pinged. She swiped the screen to see:
Again? Something must be tethering him to you. Pack a bag and fly down. Tonight.
She nodded as if her aunt could see her. She fumbled a little with the keys before opening the driver's door. She jumped in and pressed down the central lock.
Taking several deep breaths to calm down, she stared at her trembling hands and clenched them, her knuckles turned white. A tremor crawled along her spine as the hairs on her neck and hands stood erect. She gasped, turned to look back when two large hands gripped and squeezed her neck tight.
Those familiar hands!
* * * * *
An elderly man quietly walking his German shepherd dog past the store chanced a look at the Fiat 500 parked beside the sidewalk. His aged, watery eyes widened at the sight of a young lady flailing her hands and banging on the closed driver's window.
His dog paused and began to growl at the car. Then it started to bark. The man froze for a moment at the scene before him.
The lady appeared to be in her late thirties, pale with shoulder-length chestnut hair. Her dark grey-green eyes bulged like they would pop out of the sockets. She gripped at her bare neck, trying to claw something away.
This lady was clearly frightened. And maybe delusional. What's she doing? The old man wondered.
He slowly drew close to the car, just as Clare stared at him, mouthing, "Help me". His dog reared up and placed its paws on the car, barking at Clare.
"Hush, Coddy!" The old man said, confused but the dog barked louder. He gazed through the glass at the back seat and saw nothing, except two fashion magazines on the seat. He turned to look at Clare. She was still clawing at her neck, her eyes bulging and red, tears streaming down her face.
The old man tried to open the door and discovered it was locked. He wriggled the handle again and again.
He glanced at Clare. Her mouth opened in a loud gasp like she was suddenly free of whatever held her neck. She coughed, inhaling deeply before laying her head on the steering wheel.
"Miss? Are you okay?" The old man knocked on the glass window while Coddy continued barking. Clare unlocked the door and fell out to the ground, breathing harshly.
"Miss?" The man gently touched her shoulder. "You need me to call for help?"
Clare mumbled. "I'm…I'm okay. Thank you. Sorry about that."
"What happened in there?"
Clare stood up, dusted herself and fixed her hair. "It's nothing. I…It's nothing," she muttered distractedly, got back in the car, wound down the glass window and drove away. Coddy pursued after her.
“Coddy! Get back here.” The old man stood and watched in amazement.
[To be continued….]
Something or someone lurks in the shadows and is after Clare. Who is after her and why? I hope you enjoyed reading the first part of this short serial fiction. Stay tuned for the continuing parts.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image created by AI in Nightcafe Studio
