#Embrace the Darkness

Walking home in winter always unsettles me. In the cold dark brought on by shortened days, with the moon staring down from a caliginous sky, my mind plays tricks. Every set of footsteps behind me is a stalker. Every breeze is breath on the back of my neck. Every shadow hides danger.

My eyes flick back and forth as I hurry along the quiet street, counting off the doors until mine. Though I hold my keys firmly, jutting out between my knuckles, I don't bother to use them, instead knocking in rhythm to my racing pulse.

The door swings open, bathing me in golden light and the warmth of John's smile. With a sigh of relief, I stumble inside, straight into his embrace, letting the tension melt away and the keys drop back into my pocket.

His hand brushes past me as he closes the door, and I hear the reassuring click as it locks into place.

Inside the sacred security of these walls — these arms — my foolish fears fade, warmth chasing the chill from my bones.

"Love you," I whisper into John's ear as I tuck my chin into his shoulder.

His only reply is to squeeze tighter.

"So, how was your day?" I ask, pulling back slightly.

Only John doesn't seem ready for the hug to end.

Giggling, I nuzzle into him. "Someone's in an affectionate mood."

But he says nothing.

I twist my head, awkwardly smushing my cheek into his chest as I try to look at him. "John?"

Silence. Not just quiet. Not just the absence of words. The only thing I can hear is my shallow breathing, growing ever faster. But no such sounds emanate from him.

The chill returns to my bones, running down my spine and setting every hair standing on end.

I try to pull back again, my attempts growing ever more forceful. "John?" I shout as I struggle to breach his grip. "Let me go, John! You're scaring me."

My heart thumps against my ribs, as desperate to break free as I am.

His grip loosens.

I stumble back. Off balance. Plummet to the floor, landing hard.

But the pain barely registers. I'm transfixed by the face staring down at me. It's John's, in the sense that it's the same shape. The same jawline. The same forehead. But that expression. Those cold, dead eyes. That smirk. They're so alien; it makes him look like a completely different person — a different being.

It tilts its head as I scrabble away, every instinct screaming at me to flee. But I can't look away. "What gave me away?" it asks, in a voice that sounds like a frozen, jagged version of John's.

My back hits the door.

The thing steps toward me, and I choke back a sob.

Without turning I grope for the handle. Hope surges through me as my trembling fingers close around it — but it remains steadfastly still. Locked.

"Trying to leave without answering my question?" it says, crouching over me, a knee on each side pinning my arms to the ground. "Now that's just rude."

"Please!" My voice catches in my throat, so tight I can barely breathe.

I flinch as it grabs the back of my neck, hissing, "Answer me!"

"I-I don't know! It was... everything. Everything about you isn't him."

"Huh." It almost looks amused. "Well, you might have seen through me. But I saw through you too. Your paranoia. Your pathetic need for protection. Every night on your walk home, I watched from the shadows. Saw the fear. Saw the weakness." The grip on my neck tightens, forcing me closer to those dark, dead eyes. "Oh yes," it purred. "I knew you'd make the perfect victim. If only I could get rid of him..."

A jolt of fury burns through me. "What did you do with him?" I snarl.

"What I'm about to do with you. Only for him, it was quick."

The fire in my veins ignites something in me, and I am no longer frozen by fear. Wrenching myself from his grip, I smash my head forward into his, barely registering the impact.

Before he can react, I haul my arms out from under his knees, ignoring the screaming in my joints, scratching and clawing at any flesh I can find.

In the struggle, a jingling reaches my ears. My keys! I dig into my pocket as a hand closes around my throat.

"You'll regret that," it growls.

But I don't. It got me what I need. I bring the key up in a wide arc, plunging into its neck.

In the right situation, we're all capable of the most terrible crimes. As scarlet spurts from the wound, I watch the life drain from my lover's face.

I smile as its blood pours onto me.

WC: 800

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