A Vipers Bite

1. Emma

It was all a dream that night. It never happened and yet I can recall every encounter like it was still happening. Was this what it felt like to die?

"Emma."

I could faintly hear someone calling my name. It was ghostly.

"EMMA!"

There it was again. I'd heard that voice before but I couldn't stop. I had to run. Run. Get as far away as I can! I had to or I'd die.

"EMMA!!"

But what was I running from?

I wrestled in my sleep, fighting off a dream that had tormented me.

My consciousness knew who that voice belonged to, but I had too much fear and hate to admit they still haunted my dreams. That they still unknowingly controlled me.

I finally woke with an eerie silence, even the usual tick to the clock strung up on a nail head fell silent. I looked towards the only window in my room, the curtains hadn't been drawn back, but small slivers of golden light poked through.

"Morning already, huh?"

I was never a morning person, I hated early days with everything in my being. I had much rather sleep till my heart's content but thrashing around and choking on the fear that each dream creates, I'd rather suffer a long morning than wish such a thing upon myself more than necessary.

Several minutes came and went but still I couldn't bring myself to want to leave. As horrendous as the thought sounds, I wanted to sleep just a bit longer, only to put a face to that voice.

"What a pain. That's just too much work."

Finally, I brought myself to stand up and do something productive today. Dragging my dead weight body to my wardrobe. I picked out a form fitting band shirt and my signature ripped jeans paired with what Davey called my army boots.

Brushing my hair and putting it up into a half up ponytail, I lined my water line with black eyeliner, drew a wing from each eyelid, and lined my lips with deep blush pink lipstick.

I pulled my phone from the charger and swiped my keys from the small island table in my apartment. Leaving my apartment in a chipper mood, I slide down the railing, jumping off just before the end of the rail. I pushed open the door to the little Café I lived above, waving at today's barista and the manager.

"Morning, Emma." He spoke

"Morning Mr. Schnyder." I smiled

* * *

The sand and gravel crunched under my feet as I stepped out from my car; a classic 72 Nova. I slammed the door shut and locked it before walking into the Bar I worked at, Pete's pit.

"Well afternoon sunshine, ready for some fun?" Davey laughed, a crooked grin stretched on his face, "I reckon you get to use 'Roxy' before 10 tonight."

'Roxy' or my trusty bat I had kept at work so often after my first week working the joint and I had an unfortunate run in with someone who couldn't take 'no' for an answer. Luckily though, Davey was still cleaning the kitchen when he heard my struggle.

Granted I don't really need it now because people have come to learn the consequences when you fuck with me, I just use 'Roxy' to break up nasty fights or as a scare tactic when a customer is being a dick now.

"Ha, okay old man, I seriously doubt it'll be necessary, although I bet 50 bucks I'll have to use it after 10." I laughed, "Should I open up or-"

"Ah let the bastards come in, it's already 4."