Watchers [SAMPLE]

Chapter One

I stopped seeing them when I was ten.

Paralysis grips me, that familiar dread coating the pit of my stomach until I can barely keep from vomiting. Seven years passed since the last time, but I remember. I remember too easily.

The hairs on my arms stand at attention and perspiration breaks out, a thin sheen on my skin. I bring a clammy, trembling hand to my mouth and watch as everything seems to slow like a movie reel running backwards.

Stopped on a busy sidewalk by the feeling, I look to both sides. All around me people stand, unmoving, inside and outside of the neatly lined shops. The flowers and trees in the well-manicured grass along the cement seem frozen too; there is no wind.

To my left, cars sit in the street as if stuck in a traffic jam. I spin; behind me the scene is the same. If people and animals and cars weren't visible, I would think I'm in a ghost town.

The silence is unnatural.

Without warning, a shock wave rocks the air, and for a moment it wavers, shimmering and moving in an almost beautiful way, like a rainbow. Then something breaks through and time becomes irrelevant. There is nothing on this street anymore but me and it.

The shape takes full form and the heat, the stench roll over me in one great wave before some of the glow diminishes. He stands appearing like every other person on the sidewalks. Deceiving, I know, only to trick me and make me believe no harm would follow. But I can see through to the ugly, nasty core.

Less of a blessing, more of a curse.

Make a move!

I shake out of my paralysis and bring my book up in front of me like a shield. Something so fragile won't help if he decides to attack, but I can't think of anything else.

"Mackenzie." The monster draws out my name like a delicacy on his tongue.

The sound is like nails on a chalkboard to me, and I shudder.

The creature smiles at me. Beyond the human facade, I can see flesh hanging from its face, a skeletal smile and eye sockets as dark as the night sky. My stomach rolls again and I pinch myself as a distraction.

"What do you want?" I sound braver than I feel.

Instead of answering, he matches a question for a question. "Haven't you missed us?"

"You should know I haven't. I made you go away once, I can do it again."

Expression indulgent, it laughs. I grind my teeth as the sound grates on my skin and poisons my ears.

"Little girl, we never left. You simply pulled the veil over your eyes. No more, however. We have allowed you your little game for long enough. You have a purpose to serve."

Fear crawls up my spine, and I try to push it away. Whatever I do, I can't show these things I'm scared. From experience, I know they feed on negative emotions and while there is nothing positive in this moment, I don't want to let any piece of myself belong to him.

"What purpose?" I demand, pulling myself up as straight as I can stand. I narrow my gaze on his face, forcing myself to stare through the revulsion churning inside me again.

"Now what fun would that be? I want to keep you guessing. It's much more exciting that way."

I take a step back. Anything this thing considers fun only means pain and agony for me. There is nothing that can convince me otherwise. The only place I want to be is home and in my bed. I want to be waking up to this being nothing more than a nightmare.