Emily's Heart

Chapter 5: Apocalyptic World

5  Isabella 

The Apocalyptic World 

Isabella ran swiftly. Her long, sandy brown hair swung from side to side as she gained distance from it. She was surefooted, not a wobble in her step. She’d make it to her house and safety. A hundred more yards to go. The shadow that followed her was quick, but she had been quicker. Today, anyway.

Fifty yards from the door. Her mother waited on the other side of that door, ready to embrace her, smooth her hair and tell her, “It’ll be okay, baby.” Fifty yards to go.

Her choice to run had been pure instinct. A cold, clammy feeling overcame her. The shadow seen out of the corner of her eye. A small but powerful voice inside beckoned her to run.

But less than fifty yards from safety, Isabella’s curiosity made her turn her head. She had to see. Her mind had to understand. A casual look behind her to see what could create such a long, wide shadow.

In an instant as fleeting as one flap of a hummingbird’s wings, she saw it. The shadow, darker than any she’d ever seen. A shadow that was not just a product of the light from without but something that came from within. And the shadow was connected to a man.

The moment Isabella glanced behind her, her eyes met his. She had wanted to see, and she saw. The man’s eyes were completely black and devoid of light. His thin lips were pulled back in a terrible smile that revealed perfectly even, white teeth.

In that moment, Isabella knew. She knew that she had looked into the face of a devil. Maybe not the devil, but into a face as evil as any human has ever seen. Into the face of the demons that she had worried might lurk under her bed at night. Isabella looked into the face of the bogeyman and into the face of death.

She knew she would never reach the door. She knew that she’d never see her mother or father or her dog, Smarty, again. She knew that she’d never again kiss her baby brother’s soft, downy head.

Before Isabella could scream, cry or utter a single protest, the shadow was all around her. It enveloped her. She felt as if the air had been forced from her lungs, her screams unable to take flight in the airless void. She heard her backpack fall to the ground, but it was muffled, as if in a dream. She knew her eyes were open, but she saw nothing but darkness. She was smothered by a black so complete that she was suddenly unsure whether she was standing up, lying down, or floating in a dark cloud.

Her skin prickled as she felt the shadow caress her. She knew a person couldn’t feel a shadow. Her brain told her it was a dream. Shadows don’t kill people. But as she thought this, the squeezing of her lungs increased. The soft caress of the dark shadow gave way as it pinched and pulled and slapped at her.

Dread spread throughout her tiny body like a supersonic cancer. The fear cut through her like icy knives. As her terror grew, so the shadow’s grip tightened. It was in her ears, her nose, her eyes and her mouth. She swallowed the shadow like a pill, and it dug deep, deep, deep into her.

The shadow filled her. She was so cold, bereft of warmth.

The shadow will kill me, she thought. As the cold spread and took over every cell of her body, she prayed for death. She prayed to God to let her join her grandpa in heaven.

Her small body could take no more. The shadow had used her energy. Her prayers were answered. All was done. Her tiny, cold corpse littered the ground as the shadow swept down the sidewalk in search of another filled with light.