Page 27 of Claimed by the Fallen
I continue to examine my surroundings. I convince myself the reason I dreamed of the disgusting smell is because I’ve smelled it before. Dreams and nightmares are extensions of conscious experience. Hence, it would make sense that the smell existed in my neighborhood. I bet it is someone’s rotten garbage that our local waste management company forgot to pickup.
The setting sun casts Mrs. Hall’s yard in warm hues and cool shadows. Seeing nothing of note, I turn back to finish jogging to her frontdoor.
A stick snaps behind me. Ifreeze.
An eerie chill travels the length of my spine. Goosebumps pucker over my bare legs and arms. Slowly, I turn around again. This time, I’m not greeted by a sereneyard.
Across the street, slinking towards me, are five ominous shadows. I blink, but the sight remains. I’m not hallucinating. This isreal.
The shadows draw near, but they are still far enough away where I can’t distinguish anything other than the fact they aretall.
Andlean.
And nerve-rackinglyfamiliar.
The disgusting stench is almost unbearable now. I pinch my nose. As my hand swings towards my face, I hear one of the shadows unleash a gutturalgrowl.
I swear my heart stops beating. Both of my hands fall to hang limply at mysides.
I know that sound—it’s the same noise the creature who attacked Joey’s car made when I punchedit.
The creature growls again. I’m unable to deny the similarity between the sound and mynightmare.
Crap.
I need to move. I should back away and seekshelter.
But I stand there. Like a sitting duck, watching as my predator draws near, I am unable to do more thanbreathe.
The shadows step into the lingering light of the setting sun. My cry of terror is barely more than a pathetic whimper. I recognize the red eyes and the short of horns embedded in the monsters’skulls.
I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyesclose.
Wake up. Wake up. Wakeup.
I inhale through my nose and exhale one, short breath before I repeat the process. I try to pull forth my bravery, but the thread unravels in my fingers like a ball of loose yarn. I’m beyond terrified, and I don’t know what I shoulddo.
Knowing I will be forced to face what comes next, I part my eyelids and lookforward.
The creatures aren’t insight.
My muscles tense. Slowly, I rotate my neck. I look toward my house, then Mrs. Hall’s neighbor’s yard. Still, I seenothing.
I exhale, and my shoulders roll forward. I lift a shaky hand and wipe away the beads of sweat on mybrow.
Are hallucinations a symptom of my unusual illness? Or am I experiencing a mentalbreak?
I shake my head, trying to dispel my lingering worries. I plan to confess the hallucinations to my dad the moment he is home. After the three brawling men are taken care of, ofcourse.
Without warning, black, scaly fingers fly towards me. I barely manage to duck and avoid being scratched by the creature’s raggednails.
I stumble but manage to stay upright. Movement to my left draws my attention. Another creature approaches. Swinging my head to the right, I see two more closing in. I’msurrounded.
I’m nothallucinating.
“HELP! Someone, please help me!” I back towards Mrs. Hall’s home, hoping to trigger her security lights and draw attention to my predicament. But the lights are timed, and it isn’t yet late enough for them to turnon.
My legs brush against the shrubs bordering her front patio. “Stay back,” my voicewobbles.
