Excerpts from Part I —
Clare Matteson felt a strange sensation crawl up her neck and arms. Like she was being watched. Getting into her car, the bizarre happened as familiar, invisible hands gripped and tried to snuff the life out of her…until an elderly man intervened….
Tires screeching, Clare drove wildly and parked her car into the driveway, grabbed her handbag and slammed the door shut.
Her suburban neighbourhood was deadly quiet. It was almost midnight. Her shoes clacked on the paved ground as she hurried inside her three-bedroom detached house. She clicked into the five locks, closed the curtains of the windows downstairs and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom.
Her bedroom was dimly lit, an amber glow from a Victorian vintage lamp on a small table dispersed the darkness by her bedside. Then her peripheral vision caught a stir from the armchair by the wardrobe. She was not alone.
She gasped. Her stomach dropped and her heart pounded. A man turned on the main light from the switch behind the chair.
It was Frank Fletcher, her ex-boyfriend.
Tall and sturdy, he stood with his hands in his pockets, giving Clare a lopsided smile. His amber eyes sparkled with a dark intensity, reminding her of their intimate past. His jet-black hair was tousled like he'd combed his hands through while waiting for her. Nothing had changed about his handsome features—clean-shaven, smooth skin, high cheekbones, strong jawline and thin, wide lips.
"That took you long enough," he whispered.
Tears began to stream down Clare's face. The sight of him always did that to her. Frank smiled knowingly.
She fumed and clenched her hands into tight fists. "I'm calling the p-police right now!" She said, backing towards the door while her hand searched for the knob.
"And tell them what? That your partner can't visit you?"
"We broke up a long time ago."
Frank slowly inched closer. "No, we never did.” He placed a finger on his lips, his head angled to a side as though he was in deep thoughts. “If I remember correctly, you ran away…because you are scared…you can't get rid of me that easily," he said as his amber eyes glowed and turned red.
Oh no! Not this again!
Clare screamed, turned and pulled the doorknob. Instantly, it morphed into a gel-like substance. She took off her hands and the knob snapped back to its original shape.
She was going to try again when he laid his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. "You should know by now that you can't run away from me."
Her phone inside the back pocket of her jeans began to ring. Frank's eyes glowed darker at the intrusion. She dared not pull out the phone. He smiled and reached out to touch her hair, but before he could, she raised her knees and hit him in the groin.
Frank gave a loud gasp and doubled over, groaning. She pulled the door open and raced down the stairs, heavy footsteps pounding behind her. She ran into the kitchen and hid behind the counter.
She pulled out her phone. It was her aunt. She was going to answer it when it flung out of her hands and clattered to the marble floor. Frank stood by the door, very angry.
"You should know you can't escape me," he whispered between each step he took towards her.
"We are done, Frank! Move on," she screamed, rose and turned on the gas cooker.
She was tired of running. Her only mistake was loving a man who possessed an otherworldly aura and features beyond his mortal form. That was a mystery she did not expect nor understand.
Frank grinned in an unsettling way, sending shivers down her spine. She picked up a lighter.
"I just want to be free of you…," she whispered in tears.
"You promised, ‘I'll always love you'. Remember? I'm holding onto that, sweet Clare," he muttered and reached out to grab her and in an instant, Clare bent low, flicked on the lighter and hurled it onto the cooker.
The explosion was loud and flung Clare towards the door as the cooker burst into flames. She scrambled up and crawled out of the kitchen.
She turned and shockingly saw the kitchen was engulfed as Frank strode out of the flames unscathed. He grinned, his eyes glowing red like the roaring flames.
The blaring sound of the smoke detector spurred Clare into action. The fire was spreading fast to the living room. She aimed for the main entrance door but Frank appeared like an apparition in front of her and was no longer grinning.
Clare screamed and fell backwards on her behind. A sharp pain pierced through her spine to her head. Then she saw the change on Frank's face. His eyes were no longer red. He appeared confused, glancing around the living room until he spotted the painting on the wall in disbelief.
She gazed up too and saw the wallpapers curling up as the fire devoured them. The fire had spread towards the paintings on the wall. Her eyes became affixed to the painting Frank made for her on their first anniversary. A desert landscape with an oasis in the middle of it, a man with red, glowy eyes drank from its spring water.
The fire began to eat away at the painting.
Frank screamed like a banshee, his hands gripping his head. The sound was deafening. Clare yelled, tightly covering her ears.
He gripped his chest and fell to the floor, groaning and gritting his teeth in pain. Clare couldn't believe her eyes. As the painting burned up, his body was immersed and burning in the flames. Next, he stretched out clawed hands and screamed her name.
Clare had an epiphany.
After their separation, she destroyed everything he ever gave her except for the landscape painting. Somehow, the memory of it eluded her and she lugged it with her everywhere she went.
Suddenly the entrance door burst open as firefighters wearing breathing gears rushed to help her.
Clare glanced back at Frank but instead saw a small pool of black goo on the rug. She slumped in a firefighter's arms as he placed a breathing mask on her face and carried her out of the smoky building.
The End
Image created by AI in Nightcafe Studio
