Premonition

Death

She was paralyzed, numb with fear. Someone was out there waiting for her. Kyle came and grabbed her wrist.

For the past two years she would have given anything to be able to touch him. Instead, she railed against him. She heard his voice, a reedy whisper.

"Find a weapon."

Darcey's eyes searched the room. Two lamps, a book on the night stand, a half empty soda bottle. None of those would work. Kyle walked over to the bed and motioned toward Billy. Darcey walked over and turned Billy so he was lying on his back. The blunt handle stood out accusingly.

"Take it," Kyle whispered urgently.

Darcey cringed as she gripped the handle, still slick with coagulating blood. She pulled. The object barely budged. She pressed one hand against Billy's neck to better maneuver the thing. The feel of his cold, clammy flesh provoked nausea. With three hard yanks the object, a screwdriver, came free with a suckling noise.

Darcey followed Kyle to the door, then out into the hall. They crept silently. When they reached the side of her door frame, Kyle looked in. He turned to face her and shook his head.

Kyle motioned. She almost dropped the screwdriver as tremors passed through her. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. There was no one in the room.

Kyle stood before her closet and leaned forward, his head passed through the door. He pulled back, and shook his head. Darcey went over to grab the cordless from where she'd left it. It wasn't there. The only other phone was in the kitchen.

"We have to go downstairs," she whispered.

She was about to enter the hall when Kyle blocked the way. He faced her, put a finger to his lips, and shook his head. Darcey listened, but there was nothing. She stepped forward, passing through him. The hall was mostly shadow, no one standing in it except her.

Automatically her eyes followed the sliver of light from her room and stopped at the bathroom door, slightly ajar. Kyle tried to stop her. It was too late.

She saw the illuminated eye hidden in the recesses of darkness the light didn't penetrate. She also saw the gleam of a blade. She turned heel and bolted back in her room, slammed the door, and turned the lock.

Heavy footsteps raced toward her. The door shuddered with force, the frame splintering. The door slammed into the wall. Darcey flooded with relief.

"Daddy! Thank God-"

The look on his face was all wrong. His eyes were little more than slits, his jaw tensed, his mouth a hard line of fury.

"Daddy?"

He took a step forward, she a step back.

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking as tears stung her eyes.

"Why not?" he countered.

He advanced, passing right through Kyle. He raised his arm and brought it down swift as lightening. She expected pain. All she found was cold numbness. She watched his arm move several more times in rapid succession, watched as her blood painted him red. She fell, uncomprehending.

He turned the blade to himself and only flenched as he stabbed the side of his own neck.

"Now we call all sleep. Together in peace."

His eyes locked with hers as he maneuvered the blade one final time and slit his own throat.

Outside, the last of night was fading.