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Dead Memories

Water seeped into my shoes as I squelched along. The narrow corridor between houses cast a dark shadow over my head. My footsteps echoed without a single other sound to interrupt the rhythmic pace I was walking at. I was making my last delivery for the day which put a bounce in my step. Mrs. Johnson had ordered a large bag of groceries so I couldn't climb the building to get it to her faster like I usually did with my customers. 

I hummed as I sauntered down my path, using my footsteps as a beat. The sky was a dark grey like someone had spilt watercolour over a white canvas and hadn't washed it off well enough. Despite the dull surroundings, I was in a good mood. Today was the day when I would receive my first paycheck. 

Heaving the paper bag over so it was supported by my right arm only, I freed my other arm . I counted on my fingers the things I could buy with the money I was going to get for being the most efficient worker. Maybe I could even buy a new cape, it would make me feel better whilst walking in these back streets.

Mother had always told me that the back streets of Crynanthia were dangerous and full of monsters. She described them like she had seen them before. Big snapping jaws. A horrid rotting smell. Deteriorating flesh. When I thought about the creature that could be lurking in the shadows, a shiver ran down my spine but the adrenaline that rushed around my body and crowed my head with curiousity was so worth the risk. 

The constant buzz of the market square had long droned out, leaving me with my bag of vegetables. A soft mist fell over the town and as I looked to the sky I saw why mother called the clouds lizards. Different fingers of mist intertwined and scurried about in the haze they were making.

Crack. Chink. Crack.

My head whipped round to see an empty alleyway. No evidence of life could be seen anywhere in the street yet the broken clock noises sounded so real. I shook my head and muttered profanities to myself.

"That's no way to speak." The scratchy voice had the same effect on me as nails on a chalkboard did. I scrunched up my face and wrapped my arms tightly around the paper bag. "My name is Jarieth, what's yours?" 

"Aviella Hawthorne. Where are you?" A faint laugh bounced off of the walls and reverberated in my ears. My breathing was loud and no doubt audible to the mysterious person. My ears tried to trick me but I was sure I heard the voice whisper 'perfect'. A chill ran through my veins but the happy adrenaline had turned to freezing fear.

A knife cut through the haze in front of me which had thickened whilst I was distracted. The knife tore through the bag in my arms and released the vegetables onto the dirty ground of the alleyway. A soft heat caused me to look down at my left wrist. Blood trickled out slowly from a small wound, obviously made by the bloodied knife lying on the ground next to several pieces of broccoli. 

Crack. Chink. Crack.

My legs made the decision before I did. I needed to hide, protect myself from the creatures that mother told me about.

"Come out, come out wherever you are. "