Haunted Soul

The smell of death lingered in the air, but one woman stood, unaware of what was coming, unaware of the harsh fate she had been dealt. It was cold, and the bitter wind whipped her porcelain-like skin. She stood on the sand, engrossed by the beauty of the ocean; the way the moon’s reflection illuminated the calm ocean, the feeling of each individual grain of sand, and the harmonious melody of the crashing waves. 

It was the sound of a scream, the kind that was so blood-curdling, so real, that broke her out of the trance. The woman’s breathing hitched in her throat, panic set in as chill snaked its way down her spine. She began to walk back up the beach, clumsy in her fear. The sounds she thought were so tranquil a moment ago, had become frightening. She told herself it was just her imagination - isn’t that what they all say? Her eyes darting, searching, yet in reality, hoping to find nothing.  

Over the sound of the crashing waves, she heard another scream, this one louder, closer, more desperate. She ran, her car came into view, she felt relief, but it was short lived. The wind blew stronger, harsher, and her brown hair swirled into her face, covering her eyes. She reached with her hand, and placed it behind her ears. She turned left, and a small figure stumbled out of the pine trees that lined the beach. 

It was a child, blood smothered his pale skin, his eyes bloodshot and drained. He slowed, as a trail of blood moved down his leg. He cried for help, his voice quivering and desperate. But the woman ran, her shaking hand fumbled in her pocket, reaching for the keys, desperately trying to open the door. Music pumped through the speakers and the engine shuddered to life as the keys turned in the ignition. 

She turned the music off, but it felt as though base was still ringing in her ears. The sound was not that of the base, but the sound of her own pulse in her ears. She accelerated and the car lurched forward with a jolt. Glancing in the rear view mirror, the woman fought the urge to scream, as the child she left just a few seconds ago was dragged back into the tree-line by a man, disappearing as though he was never there. 

It was dark, and cold outside of the car. Fog began to creep over the windows. She knew the road well and turned the corner while wiping the windscreen with her jumper sleeve. Her body jerked when she saw a man standing in the middle of the road. She recognised him. It was the man who dragged the boy into the trees. He stood motionless, his dark hair glinted in the moonlight, and a scar ran from his right eye to mouth. But his eyes. His eyes were so dark, so piercing, so hard to forget.

She was several metres away from the man, her mind in a haze. Pressing the accelerator, she closed her eyes and prepared for impact. The man didn't move - the car did. The heavy steel, moulded around the man and the glass shattered as the woman met the windscreen. She hit the road, rolling in the gravel for several metres. Her hand reached out involuntarily, although she didn’t know what for; help, hope, forgiveness, a second chance. 

Her lips parted in surprise as the man stepped closer, bending his knees to reach out to her. He met her eyes, and she stared. Stared at his haunting black eyes and couldn’t look away. His eyes were like the dark depths of a black-hole, captivating and dangerous. The man’s hand reached out quickly, too fast for her to comprehend. She looked at his hand, and her eyes widened. In it was a heart - her heart.