Siren

Chapter One

                                                                Chapter   One   

October 29-

Here I finally am; the place where i was conceived, the biggest tourist attraction in the West, the place where dreams come true, and/or crash out of the window. Vegas.

                                                                                                                                -Vegas Macmina

I close the laptop after I finish my blog entry. Next to me, Kiera is tossing and turning in her sleep.

'I knew I should have chosen to sleep next to Zaria', I think to myself.

Deciding that I wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight, I climbed out of bed and slipped on some house slippers before making my way out the door of our cheap Super 8 Motel room. I grab a cigarette from the pocket of my pajama pants and light it.

"That's not a very good habit, you know." Says a voice next to me. I jump. I hadn't realized that I wasn't alone. Next to me is a man who looks to be around 20-23 years of age. To say he is very attractive would be an understatement.  He has long, silky auburn colored hair and olive complexioned skin. He is about six foot five nd muscular. I can practically see his packs through the tight black vee neck tee he wore.

"Well, if it's such a bad habit then why are you doing it?" I ask, nodding pointedly at the half dispersed cigarette in his hand.

"It's a hard habit to break. I wish I'd never started." He says seriously. I hear a slight accent in his tone, Italian maybe? After taking one more long drag, he throws the cigarette over the edge of the motel balcony. I do the same, turn to face him, and stick out my hand.

"I'm Vegas." I say.

"Yes, we are in Las Vegas." He says in his accented tone.

"No, no, my name is Vegas." I correct him. He stares at me for a while before asking,

"You aren't a stripper are you?"

"No! Of course not! What would make u think that?!" I shriek.  I quickly look over myself. I'm wearing my spider-man pajama pants, pink poodle slippers, and a sky blue camisole. Sure, the cami shows a bit of cleavage, but not enough to make me look skanky!

"Well Vegas kind of sounds like a stripper name," he says bluntly.

"Vegas was my mother's name all have you know."

He gets a faraway look in his eyes before coming back to reality and asking, "Was your mother a stripper?"

"No! ...she preferred the term exotic dancer." I state sheepishly.

He bursts into laughter and I can't help but join in. "You're a funny little thing."

"I'm not little!" I exclaim, defending my five foot two, size three frame.

"Of course you aren't. My apologies, Vega."

"Vega?" I ask, curiously.

"Yes, my nickname for you. Do you like it?" he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

I say it softly to myself. Vega. Yes I do like it, I like it a lot.

"It's okay." I shrug, nonchalantly.

Just as he is about to reply, another man steps out of the motel room behind him. This guy looks to be around 20-23 as well. Only, his hair is electric black. His eyes are an icy blue color and he isn't nearly as tall as his friend. He's only about six foot two. He does however have the same olive complexioned skin, and muscular build.

"It's time to go." The new guy says to the hottie that gave me the nickname. This hottie whose name I now realize, I never received.

"Alright," he says to the man, "Vega." He nods in a farewell gesture before turning with the other man and beginning to walk away.

"Wait!" They both turn my way. "I never got your name." I say softly.

"Sage." And then he and the other man are gone leaving me standing there, mesmerized as I watch them walk down the staircase and to the lower level parking lot and drive away.

'Sage.'  I think to myself. I feel a chill on the back of my neck and hurry back inside my hotel room. I sleep, but not peacefully.

*

My nightmare started like this:

I was in a cold, dark place. I could hardly see anything at all; however I could sense that I was not alone.

"Whose there?" I asked nervously. No one responds to my question. But I could hear heavy breathing, letting me know that I was most definitely not alone. Finally, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see slightly better. There was a boy across the room sitting Indian style. He looked to be about my age, maybe a few years older. He was absolutely terrified. Tears stained his cheeks, leaving the smell of charred wood in a fire. It was almost as if his tears were burning him...

Out of nowhere, the full moon appeared from behind the clouds, radiating light into the small window. And allowed me to get a better look at him. He had long, thick mahogany colored hair that fell in gorgeous waves around his upper arms. His skin was perfectly unblemished and olive complexioned. I could tell from his broad jaw and other features that he was of Cherokee descent. Now that I could see him better, he looked strangely familiar.

"Go." He whispered, so softly that it's a wonder that I'd heard him at all.

"Why? What's wrong?" I asked, getting up and walking over to him.

"Go." He said, more loudly this time, before beginning to sob once again. I rest my hand on his shoulder to calm him, and all of a sudden the moon revolutionized to crimson. The man's eyes began to glow a dangerous red before blood began to pool out of them. More than startled, I took several steps back. Next, his body began to shake in an apoplectic way.

"Leave!" He roared. I took several more steps back before running. I sprinted across the moon-lit room and to the door. I tried to open it...but it was locked from the outside in. I kicked and pulled, trying desperately to open the door. But it was useless, I was locked in.

Slowly, I turned back to the man. Blood was still pouring from his eyes and his head is bent downwards, staring at his hands. I gasped. His hands were shaking badly and his fingernails were all horribly bitten and torn. Finally, he looked up at me and growled malevolently before saying, "I told you to leave," in a haunting tone.

"I..the door...its locked." I whimpered pathetically.  He stood up and began to saunter toward me. "P-please don't hurt me." I cried helplessly, clinging to the door.

"I told you to leave." He repeated, stopping when he was directly in front of me. The nails on his hands began to grow into sharp points.

"Please." I whispered.

He raised his hand as if to grab me around the neck and then:

I wake up to the sound of Kiera's snoring. Never in my life have I ever been happy to have a pedicured foot in my face.

Hope you liked it! I wanted to try something new. Please remember to LEAVE FEEEDBACK!!! VOTE, COMMENT,FOLLOW, AND ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND!

XOXO~ KALIOCENTRIC