My Nightmare in Shining Armor

And the psycho makes his appearence

I pulled up in front of the excessively large mansion. Honestly that house could have put Paris Hilton's to shame. Alright so I might be exaggerating but A. I had nothing to compare it to, and B. it was huge, H.U.G.E huge. C. did I mention the size? It was an old, Victorian style house (if you could even call it that). There appeared to be about two-three acres in the yard alone. I didn't see the back, but I heard about the epic pool parties occasionally thrown when Mr. and Mrs. Millings were out of town. I assumed that's where the pool was located. The five car garage was separate and was identical to the house, only smaller.

I pulled my car into the driveway after Harker told me I wasn't blocking his spot, since he didn't have his car and couldn't drive it anyways. "I'll help you into the house," I stated while shutting off the engine and opening my door. One foot was out when he started objecting.

"No it's fine you don't have to." He looked so miserable at having someone help him but I wasn't going to let him get hurt worse when I could prevent it.

"Harker, it's not a bad thing to let people help you. You're hurt and I'm not gonna let it get worse when I can help you. Please put your ego aside and just let me get you into the house." I was tired and by now you could hear it in my voice, I was past the point of pleading but somehow I found it in myself to pull out the puppy dog eyes.

He sighed and gave a slight nod which I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't looking closely. I got out of the car and walked around to the other side. I helped him out and let him lean on my shoulder while he hobbled up to the house. He pulled a key out of his pocket (well he tried, which was a difficult task on crutches and after the fourth time of him dropping them back in his pocket I grabbed them). My face turned fifty shades of red at the embarrassment of being so close to him.

I went to get his car and left him alone in the house after I turned on the TV and he reassured me ten times he would be okay. He told me to take his bike and his father would haul it back home later. It took me about three tries to get the cursed hell hound with wheels started and approximately nine or more for me to get it moving after I found my way onto the damn thing. I'll tell you right now that from the first second that thing was out to kill me.

After traveling at three mph below the speed limit, and having cars honk repeatedly I finally reached the castle like prison I called a school. I pulled the bike into a spot, got off, and pulled out the kickstand without any troubles. "Well Mr. Leprechaun looks like someone stopped being a little bitch." I ran from the bike after saying that because my miniature, red-headed version of karma happened to be incredibly spiteful. Surprisingly I wasn't struck by lightning when the storm clouds overhead began rumbling, though the day was still young.

I walked to Harker's car and luckily the keys were in it. Unluckily the damn thing was locked. I had to pick the lock with a bobby pin to open it. I'm sure I looked shadier than a fifty year old man with a pedo-stache walking through a park with bag of candy. After twenty minutes and two random spurts of rain, I was cold, drenched and had finally picked the lock. You'll be pleased to know I later found out the passenger side door was unlocked.

The leprechaun was trying to either kill me or get me locked up and he was coming very close to both happening at once. I banged my head against the steering wheel then started the car after I gave myself a stern lecturing about quitting my whining and being a baby. I can confirm that lecture did nothing to help me later but it's the thought that counts.

I pulled up to the house( scratch that) mansion and tried parking the car in the garage. This probably would've worked if I had the security code or at very least could operate the remote to open the garage door. I didn't know any of this information so I just left the car out and hoped someone would get to it later. The doors were unlocked as Harker couldn't move and I didn't lock them, probably a good thing when the fact I couldn't even get in the garage was considered.

I slowly opened the large, unsurprisingly heavy, door. I hadn't even shut it before I heard glass shattering. My feet were there before my brain and breath could catch up with me. I saw a broken glass on the floor, the pieces scattered throughout, and Harker had slammed his fist against the marble counter, I honestly thought he'd crack it with as much force as he used. "Harker what the hell happened in here? I thought I left you on the couch." I cried out while searching the kitchen for a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess.

"I was thirsty; I just wanted a glass of water." He spat out through clenched teeth, his fist still clenched on the counter.

I could feel the anger radiating off him in waves. You would think this would send off the warning bells in my head to shut the heck up, but apparently mine were broken. I continued to speak.

"Will you calm the bloody hell down?" occasionally British slang would make its way into my words thanks to all the British shows I happened to watch. "Getting worked up like this isn't helping anyone." I mentally heard something 'snap' and suddenly the warning bells in my head were screaming at me to run as fast as I could. The only problem was that my feet were solely rooted to the floor. I guess only certain parts of my body are allowed to work at certain times instead of all of them working in unison like they should.

Harker was taking long, brisk steps towards me, this was surprising considering his ankle. I found my feet moving backwards every time he moved close. There was something inside of me screaming to turn and run, not move backwards, but I could hardly heard it over my thundering heart.

I stopped moving when I hit a wall. The damned thing trapped me, and now I was at the hands of a so called murderer. I saw something glitter in the light as he moved it from behind his back. He had a frigging steak knife. When the cold metal was pressed against my neck I saw my life flash before my eyes. From my first childhood memory to that morning when I said goodbye to my father as I left it was all there reminding me of everything I would lose.

The demon pressed the knife a centimeter closer to my skin and I felt myself suck in an involuntary, shaky breath. He moved his face close to my ear and my heart was a jackhammer trying to break through my chest. "Next time you want to tell me what to do..." he stopped and took a deep breath, "don't." He stayed there a few more seconds before he grabbed my hair, turning my head and forcing me to look at him. I knew at that moment he could kill me and would if he wanted to, his nonexistent soul reflected in his eyes.