Stone In Love

Chapter 10

I guessed the time to be four forty-five a.m. when I found myself standing next to my bed. I was an excellent judge of time, which Mom believed was a gift, but I figured she was just reassuring herself she didn't have a freak for a daughter.  I reached for my phone to check the time. Four forty-two. I was slipping. 

I knew I had been sleepwalking, but for how long? I couldn't be sure until I checked the apartment. Hopefully, I hadn't done something stupid, like raid the refrigerator or unfold all the towels. After a quick walk-through, I found nothing out of place, which probably meant I hadn't left the bedroom. I took the opportunity to use the toilet, and it was when I headed back to bed that I heard the growling. 

It didn't come from any of my neighbors. Pets weren't allowed in the building. It originated from outside. And the fact that I lived three floors up didn't matter. I had the hearing of a dog, which was probably why I could tune into their shenanigans whenever they decided to have a row under my window. 

The thing was, dogs rarely turned-up in the alley. It was used exclusively for the trash bin, which stayed behind a locked gate. This thought crossed my mind as I walked to my bedroom window and pulled back the curtain, fully prepared to whistle them away if need be. I had a pretty shrill whistle. Only what I saw in the alley was no dog fight. It was a man fight, but they were battling it out like dogs; rolling on the ground, clawing, biting. And, yes, growling. 

The more I watched, the more I realized there was something unusual about them. Both where cloaked in black. In fact, someone passing by might not notice them if they weren't making such a racket. And each one had the stature of a giant, with large objects resting on their shoulders like backpacks. Or, wings. 

My muscles tensed as I watched them tear each other apart like animals out for blood. One man lifted his opponent over his head and threw him against the trash bin. It had to hurt like hell, but the guy got up, appearing completely unharmed and angrier than before. He rushed his attacker and dragged him to the ground, his mouth opening wide to expose sharp teeth as he dove for the man's throat. Jesus. What kind of underworld shit was this?

I glanced at my phone across the room, contemplating calling the cops. What would I tell them? They probably got calls about alley fights all the time. Would the fight be over by the time they arrived? When I looked back, one of the men had the other in a headlock, and with a violent snap, the subdued man's head jerked then fell limp in his assailant's arms. A scream escaped my throat, and I slapped my hand over my mouth as I stumbled away from the window.

Holy shit.

I stood immobile in the middle of the room, not wanting to believe what I'd seen. Did I just witness a murder? Had anyone else seen it? Was it time to call 911? With a trembling hand, I retrieved my phone and walked back to the window, dreading the scene that awaited me. I damned sure didn't want to be seen by the murderer. What if he was scanning the building for faces?

I swallowed hard as I stealthily peeked through the curtain, and my eyes met with an empty alley. There was no sign of either man. I opened the curtain further to get a better look at the surrounding area. Still nothing. Where the hell did they go? No one could have escaped over the gate in that amount of time, especially if they were carrying a dead body. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Did I even witness a murder? 

Shaking and nauseous, I crawled back into bed, grabbing my spare pillow and wrapping my limbs around it. It was times like these that I really missed Sylvie. We shared a bed for nearly a year, and she had become a great spooning partner. When I moved in with Heath, he and I rarely slept together because he worked nights. Of course, after things went to hell, I was grateful for his absence.