The Stalker (Elvis Presley Story)

Chapter 18

"Melissa?" A voice murmured. Then more loudly, "Melissa!"

"Look at all that blood!" Another voice said."

"Is she okay?"

"Melissa?" The first voice said again. "Melissa."

Melissa's head pounded like a jackhammer. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a groan.

"Come on, Melissa, open your eyes." A third voice. Urgent. Worried.

Elvis's voice.

Melissa forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry. And her head! What happened to her her? It hurt so much she felt like throwing up.

Melissa blinked, and Elvis's face came into focus. She groaned again and let her eyes shut. Heard shuffling. A flurry of whispers. Felt something soft press down above her right eye.

The pain was incredible. She cried out.

"Sorry, but you've got a nasty cut," a voice she finally identified as Vic's told her. "Gotta press the gauze on there to stop the bleeding."

The bleeding. Blood. Look at all the blood, someone had said. Panicked, Melissa tried to get up. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she began to fall again. Hands steadied her. Gray's. Vic's. Elvis's.

"Take it easy, Melissa," Gray said as they helped her to sit. He took her hand and pressed it over the gauze. "Hold that in place and rest a few minutes."

Almost immediately, the blood seeped through the gauze and onto Melissa's fingers. She shuddered. Vic took the sopping cloth from her and gave her another piece.

"I think it's slowing down," vic said. "Give it another minute. Good thing the set missed your eye."

"The set?" Melissa glanced around. The entire back wall of the burger palace was down. Canvas torn. Plastic ripped. Wood frames broken and splintered.

"What happened?" Melissa asked. "It was up before. I was dancing and...." She paused, remembering.

The footsteps. The shadow.

Had she imagined them or had they really been there?

Melissa glanced at Elvis.

"You were dancing and what?" Vic asked.

"And it fell, Melissa said slowly, still looking at Elvis.

Elvis's face tightened. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "We worked on it half the night. I thought it was secure. I'm really sorry, Melissa."

"The bleeding's just about stopped," vic said, relieved. He cleaned the cut and put a bandage on it. "But you ought to see a doctor."

"No!" Melissa cried out. "I don't want that. You said the bleeding's stopped.  I just need to rest awhile."

Vic frowned, but didn't argue. "Okay, then somebody will drive you back to your motel."

"I will," Elvis said quickly.

Melissa shook her head. The throbbing got worse.

"I need you here, Elvis," vic told him. "We've got a major repair job on our hands. Jake will take her."

Vic and Gray helped Melissa to her feet. Her knees wobbled, but she managed to stay up. She had to stay up. She had to dance tonight!

She started to walk. Her head banged with each step. "Not so fast," Gray said, putting his arm around her waist. "Listen, Melissa, you've got the rest of the day off, and I'm taking you out of the show tonight."

"No!" Melissa protested.

"Look at you," he told her. "You've got a bad cut and you can hardly walk. You're in no shape to dance."

"Not now, maybe, but I will be later."

Gray shook his head. "Don't argue," he said, as Melissa started to protest again. "I should send you to the hospital for x rays. "

"I don't want to go to the hospital!" Melissa said.

"Fine, but you're still not dancing tonight," Gray told her. "That's an order."

"But I'll be back onstage tomorrow, right?" Melissa said.

Gray frowned. "We'll see."

As jake took her arm and started to help her offstage, she turned back to Gray. "Who'll take my place tonight?"

"Steph Thompson," he told her.

Melissa head began to throbbing worse than before.

Steph took Elvis.

And now she'd taken Melissa's dance.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as Melissa stuck her key in the motel room door. Clouds covered the sky and the air was thick. Dropping her bag, Melissa shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a deep breath.

Her head throbbing.  She ached all over. Aspirin. Aspirin and maybe a hot shower. Walking unsteadily, Melissa went into the bathroom and found the bottle of Aspirin. As she swallowed two pills, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Pale. blood matted with dirt in her tangled hair.

And fear in her eyes.

What if she hadn't imagined the footsteps?

If she hadn't, then somebody had pushed the entire set down on her.

I'm closer than you think.

Melissa finished the glass of water, then went back into the main room. She was too tired to shower. All she wanted to do was put her head down and sleep away the ache and the fear.

The room was icy. She turned the air conditioner down a notch. She pulled off the filthy bodysuit and pulled jeans and a dark-red sweatshirt on against the chill.

Pictures flashed behind her closed eyes as she lay on her back across one of the beds. The shadow backstage. The set, falling as if in slow motion. The circle of worried faces looking down at her when she came to.

Melissa rolled on her side. Soon she felt herself sink deeper into the mattress. Felt the banging in her head start to ease. The pictures stopped flashing, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Melissa jerked awake, her heart pounding. She felt sweat pouring off her face. Heard the steady drone of the air conditioner.

A nightmare. She'd had a horrible nightmare. Part of it was still with her. The ringing. The ringing in her head. No not in her head. It was the telephone. Groggy and dizzy, Melissa glanced at the clock as she reached for the phone. She'd been asleep for more than six hours.

"Hello," She murmured.

"Melissa."

Just one word, breathed like a sign.

"Yes?" Melissa's hand tightened around the phone. "Who is this?"

"You know."

The voice was muffled. Soft. Was it the same voice that called her before? Melissa started to speak, but the caller interrupted her.

"Did you have a good nap, Melissa? I hope so. Because you're going to need your strength." The voice changed. Still soft, but cold. So cold. "By the way, blood-red's the perfect colour for you. Someday soon, you're going to be covered in the real thing."

Melissa's heart seemed to stop. But her mind began racing.

The sweatshirt. The dark red sweatshirt she'd put on before she fell asleep. No one else knew she had it on. No one but her caller.

No one but her caller knew she'd been asleep.

He can see me, Melissa thought. He's looking at me, right now!

Slowly she turned her head towards the window.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks so much for reading! xoxo