The Wolf's Eye: A Series of Short Horror Stories

The Other Side

To tell you the truth, I did not mean to do any of the things I'm going to tell you. But I really am sorry. It may not sound sincere, considering I'm just writing it, but it's the honest-to-god truth. I seriously screwed up this time, and I'm honestly glad I'm still alive.

But she isn't.

My friend Yuri and I went to a bar for the first time last Friday. Oddly, it wasn't very crowded for a Friday night. We sat down, chatted for a while, and then the bartender approached us. He looked like he was about our age, and pretty damn handsome, too. He asked what we wanted, and, without hesitation, Yuri blurted out, "Your phone number."

I tried not to giggle like a little schoolgirl as she turned and looked at me with her "Look at me, I did it" smirk. She and I weren't exactly the girly type, so I wasn't really expecting her to start flirting like a high school girl. I was expecting the guy to walk off, but he just shook his head and grabbed a pen and napkin. He wrote down his name and number and handed it to her.

Elliott Cherri

586-403-2643

Call me sometime :)

Before she had the chance to say anything back, Elliott only winked at her and walked away. Yuri turned to me, cheered silently, and held up her hand for a high-five.

I just shook my head and sighed.

Just then, a news report came on on the television above us. Another prostitute had been found dead in a motel room. A sketch of the killer's face appeared on the screen along with a name: Allen Soluski. I started to feel my blood run cold when the reporter said that he was in our area.

I turned to Yuri, who was still staring at the screen. "Yuri," I said. "What do you think of all this?"

She looked over at me and shrugged. "I dunno," she said with a sigh. "Sounds like some kind of Jack the Ripper guy to me. Kinda unlikely that he'd come in some run-down trash can like this."

I nodded. I just dismissed the warning on the TV as they said for the young women to stay safe.

I really wish I hadn't.

I felt myself dozing off as I sat listening to the conversation taking place between Yuri and Elliott. At that moment, I felt someone touch my shoulder. When I turned around, a young man was standing behind me holding two drinks. He was actually pretty good looking; he had brown hair and brown eyes, and looked pretty well-dressed. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said with a kind voice. "Would you like a drink?"

I wanted to say no, but I didn't think it would be right to dismiss him without a thought. I nodded and took the drink from his hand, notioning for him to sit down. He did and we started talking.

God, I really wish we hadn't.

I just started up a normal conversation with him about the weather, my job, all that crap. Then he asked me if I wanted to dance with him. There had been a dance floor and music, and it looked fun, so I took him up on his offer.

God, I really wish I hadn't.

We had a slow dance to a song I honestly can't remember. I do remember, though, that he was holding me oddly close to him. He grasped one hand on mine and had the other tightly on my hips. It felt pretty strange to me, and he was being really touchy. I don't know why, but I didn't say anything.

It was after a while that I realized there was nobody in the bar except for me, this guy, Yuri, and Elliott. I was just dancing with some stranger to a slow song at an empty bar. Suddenly, it clicked in my head: I have no idea who this guy is. "Pardon me," I said, "I forgot to ask you. What is your name?"

He seemed to be thinking on it for a while. Then he finally answered me. "Stephen," he said. "My name is Stephen. What is yours?"

So I told him. I wish I hadn't.

As we danced silently, I overheard Yuri and Elliott talking. "There's something wierd about that guy your friend's dancing with," I heard Elliott say. "He looks to me like that picture they were showing on the news a little while ago."

"What makes you think that?" Yuri asked. "Why would some serial prostitute killer be at a bar dancing with my friend?"

"I don't know," he said. "Something seems off, here. And for the life of me, I can't figure out what."

I thought about what he said. Then it clicked. Stephen did look a bit familiar. I felt like he could tell that I'd overheard, because he was looking at me pretty grimly. I let go and started to walk away from him. "I'm sorry," I said, grabbing Yuri's arm and pulling her toward the door. "We need to leave."

After that, I couldn't stop thinking about "Stephen." Was that really his name?

Was it Allen Soluski?

I really wanted to forget about it, I really did. I tried, but I couldn't. But something on the news really made me fear for my life.

Another person was murdered. But it wasn't a prostitute.

It was Elliott.

When Elliott's face appeared on the screen, I almost threw up. How could this have happened? We'd just been talking to him the night before, and the next morning, they found his body in a dumpster behind the bar. The suspect was Allen Soluski. But why would he go after him?

I had a lot of questions I didn't know the answer to. But I was worried about Yuri. After I told her about Elliott, she said she wanted to be by herself and left our apartment. And after that, I never saw her again.

I was walking down the street, my mind running with questions. Where were "Stephen" and Yuri? Why was Elliott dead? What if Yuri was dead, too?

I knew the answer to all of it when I turned a corner and went down to the harbor. A group of police were investigating a crime scene. I approached an officer and asked what had happened. He only looked at me and shook his head with remorse. "This earth is a sickening place."

I didn't know what he was talking about until I saw exactly what he was looking at. And I wish I could unsee it.

Stephen was lying on the deck, his eyes wide open and his skin cold and blue. He had a bruise under his left eye, as if he had been punched. Next to him, Yuri was sprawled out, her fingers were bloody, her eyes closed, and chunks of her hair were torn out. I was sure she had been taken out of the lake, considering the fact that she was soaking wet. Just seeing this made me realize something. I realized that the other night was a lie. I didn't meet some kind, good-looking guy named Stephen.

I met a murderer named Allen Soluski.

I cursed myself from then on. There wasn't a day that I didn't think about Yuri.

Yuri, I'm so sorry.

I never meant for any of this to happen. I really didn't.

Yuri, we were the best of friends. We were roommates. There wasn't a goddamn day we weren't doing something together.

You and I, we were sisters.

And I am deemed to never forget that.