Peripheral Vision: A Supernatural Thriller(26)



A few seconds later, Sarah walked downstairs with an arm-full of warm blankets and a pillow. She was greeted by Nick’s warm smile. He really is handsome, she thought.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep in my aunt’s room, Nick?”

“I think I’m gonna pass on that one.”

“I don’t blame you.”

She started opening up the blankets. Nick got up and helped her make the bed on the sofa. Suddenly, Nick stopped.

“Wait... where did you get these?”

“From the hall closet, why? Are you scared??” Sarah giggled.

“What? No, I’m not scared. I was just kidding around.”

They laughed, both a little ashamed of joking about Elizabeth, then stood in silence and shared another long, awkward moment. Sarah finally broke the silence. It was becoming her thing.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Sarah. Sweet dreams.”

“Here’s hoping.” Sarah replied with a smile and started up the stairs. It was a joke, but it was also unfortunately, her current reality.

Nick watched her as she walked up the stairs. He had already laid down on his makeshift bed. He sleepily put his arms behind his head and smiled.

Sarah also smiled as she walked up the stairs. It had been a good night, but when she got to the top, her eyes were drawn across the hall to the closed door of her aunt’s room. Her smile faded. Something wasn’t right. Just a silly feeling, she forcefully convinced herself and quickly walked into the guest room. My room, her mind corrected her.

Sarah entered the room with purpose. She headed right for her luggage and began searching through it until she found the small prescription bottle with her sleeping pills.

“Here’s hoping.”

She took two pills without water and placed the bottle on the night stand for easy access. She unzipped her other suitcase and pulled out some comfy, albeit sexy, pink pajamas in case she happened to bump into Nick in the morning. The thought made her blush. She quickly slipped out of her clothes, slipped into the pink pajamas, and slipped into bed. No sooner did she close her eyes, than the dreams started.

Sarah found herself walking once again through the dark basement. Someone called her name in the distance. “Sarah!?” It was the soft voice of a young girl. Sarah turned toward the voice, but instead of finding a young girl she saw the old woman with the long, black hair. The woman moved through a doorway and out of view. Sarah followed the woman through the doorway and down an unlit staircase to a small cellar. The woman stood in the corner- busy putting glass canning jars on a wooden shelf that seemed to be haphazardly attached to the stone wall. Sarah couldn’t see the woman’s face and the woman didn’t seem to notice her.

Sarah got closer to have a better look. She watched the woman place the jars carefully on the shelf, but suddenly one fell from her grasp and hit the dusty concrete floor. The jar shattered, but instead of marbles, a crimson liquid spattered from the broken jar. A woman screamed from somewhere off to the left. Sarah knew that she should turn around and go back up the stairs, but she was compelled to keep watching. Sarah’s feet shuffled backwards, however, trying to put some space between her and the woman. And then she tripped, landing hard on her backside. When she looked up she saw that she was lying in front of a small wooden door that was oddly placed in the middle of the stone wall.

Sarah stood up, grabbed the door handle and tried to open it- but she couldn’t. Suddenly, she was aware that someone was now standing behind her. The breath felt strange against her neck, but it didn’t frighten her. She turned slowly around and saw that it was the tall shadowy figure. He was wearing what seemed to be an old, WWI gas mask and breathing in strange short breaths. The man’s right arm was behind his back, but his left was holding a hammer. He raised the hammer high above his head. Sarah now felt the flood of fear overcome her and she was frozen there watching, her feet wouldn’t move-waiting for what would happen next. The hammer came down and Sarah screamed…

Sarah sat up in bed screaming. The screams broke through the dream wall and followed her back into her bedroom. Somehow, thankfully, Nick was already by her side, with his hands on her shoulders trying to wake her.

“Sarah, wake up!” He shouted.

Sarah opened her eyes but she couldn’t stop screaming. When she realized that Nick was there, she began to calm down, and her screams faded, but her body kept shaking.

“Nick?” Sarah was disoriented. She looked around the room searching for the masked figure from her dream.

“You were having a bad dream-a really bad one. You were screaming.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sarah was truly embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry. He gently stroked her face. It’s okay now.”

“There were jars of... blood.... I think it was blood… and someone was screaming. And a man with a hammer…” Sarah tried to recall the details of the dream, but the effects of the sleeping pill clouded her memory.

“I think we should take you back to the motel.” Nick looked concerned.

“No, Nick. Something is wrong. Something is going on here, and I have to figure out what it is.”

“What do you mean?”

Sarah paused for a moment. Almost like she was listening for something and then she took in a deep breath and let it out. “Maybe my aunt is trying to tell me something... You have to help me.” She looked at Nick with pleading eyes.

Timothy Hammer, Cour's Books