The Darkness Beneath

3

Lori let out another deep and silent breath, then lowered her hands. As the beast squirmed and pulled at the branch sticking from its neck, Lori had been caught with her retreat blocked. With no choice she had opened the bedroom and fled inside. She shut the door gently, hoping the distracted beast would not notice nor hear, then propped a desk chair beneath the handle. She considered pushing her dresser over and barricading herself in, but was fairly sure the thing would have heard the commotion and rushed in, defeating the point.

Moments later, afraid to test her temporary security, Lori had fled into the closet, while Beverly hid far back under the bed. It was best that way. If her dog could see her, if they were hiding together, Lori doubted she would have stayed silent.

Of course, once more Lori found herself motionless and hiding. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat drenched her clothes, and her side ached more than ever. Another stabbing pain coursed over her and Lori wondered how long she could go without seeing a doctor. How long could she last without treatment?

She didn't even notice she had risen to her feet until she snapped from her daze and came to while staring out her window. Her apartment was nine floors up, looking out onto downtown Los Angeles. She didn't have a balcony off from her bedroom but a ledge about six inches wide ran the perimeter of the building, just a foot below the windows. One bend around the building corner, and another ten feet and she'd be at the living room balcony. It would be a short dash from the living room to the front door, but if that thing was still waiting outside her bedroom, then it just might be possible. Fifteen feet total stood between her and escape.

Of course, she had to be certain. She scanned a nearby nightstand, grabbed an empty tic-tac container, and threw it at the door. A great clawing lashed at the door and it shook upon its hinges, but the chair beneath the handle did not budge. Yes, It was still out there.

***

Thirty minutes passed with Lori staring out the window, considering her options. She didn't open it. She knew once she did she'd have to be prepared for anything. If It heard the window being forced open she might not have much time to react. So instead, she stared out through the dirty panes of glass into the grey of the Los Angeles night. Lights blinked to life in the nearby buildings and cars sped by below, but she had seen no one close enough for her to ask for help without being heard by that thing in the hallway.

As she stared, hoping for some answer to miraculously appear, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass. A ghastly  welt rose just below her hairline, scrapes and minor cuts covered her arms, and bruises loomed everywhere. Every inch of her ached, her side and the fractured rib most of all.

She hugged herself tight, that beast right outside her door, and let herself slip away.

***

The Badgers were down by one in the bottom of the seventh to the Coyotes. They already had two outs and, as she stepped to the plate, Lori was very aware that any chance at staying in the game rested on her turn at bat. Ready, her bat raised and her eye on the pitcher, Lori prayed she didn't screw this up. The other girls on the team weren't fond of her. She didn't buy into their shit, and hadn't bothered to try to endear herself to them. If the loss fell on her, though, she'd never hear the end of it. Lori glanced to Joy Stevens. The barbie doll blonde danced on third base. One decent hit from Lori and the Badgers could at the least tie up the match.

Whack!

The pitch came in hard and fast, right as Lori glanced to Joy, but it was off. Lori felt the pain burst in her eye as the ball connected right in her face. Her head whipped back and she winced, fairy lights dotting the black that clouded her vision. She could hear Coach Edwards telling her not to move. She could feel his calloused hands on her neck and cheek as he examined her face.

At the same time, she could feel the blood from her busted brow dripping down. She could taste it as the blood trickled from her nose and back down her throat. She opened her good eye and she could see the pitcher smirk. That jerk had meant to hit her. She'd done it on purpose.

"Lori, how many fingers?"

The coach waved his hand stupidly in front of her, but she didn't have time for this shit. She could feel a rage building up inside her and before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet, pushing past her coach and through her teammates. They had crowded to see the blood, surely, because not a one gave two craps what happened to her.

"Lori!" Coach Edwards again. He said something else after, but Lori was already two thirds of the way to the pitcher's mound and didn't have time for his nonsense.

"Hey, that looks like it hurt." The Coyotes' pitcher stood a good six inches taller than Lori and absolutely confident in her upper hand. "Maybe you should go put some ice on that."

Lori had thought about saying something witty – all the cool action stars did – but she was pretty certain she'd just screw it up. Best just to let her actions speak for her.

She feinted for the pitcher's face then sucker-punched her gut. As the pitcher doubled over Lori kneed her in the face.

***

Lori smiled at the memory of it. She'd been kicked off the team for that stunt, but she'd never liked those girls anyway. Now, looking at her battered reflection, she realized she hadn't had a broken bone since that ball fractured her eye-socket. It had hurt like nothing had since, not even the fracture in her rib, and she had stood her ground. She could do so again.

Outside the door she could hear the gurgled breathing of that man-thing. In her final flight into the room it had been obvious that it was almost human, like a walking corpse covered in third degree burns or even worse. She could remember its skin, so crisp beneath the wet of that outer layer, like aloe spread over a blackened char. 

And now there it was right outside that door. She could hear its breath continuing slow and steady and wet. It was waiting.

***