Running

By Jamie Stafford
Tucson, Arizona

The nightmare had kept replaying through her mind's eye all day long, as if it were a warning of severe evil. That image of the little Hispanic girl, clothes and skin ablaze, blood spurting forth like a fountain, eyes ready to explode, screams silenced by her throat's rawness... yet she was still alive. And that deep, chilling, diabolical laugh which boomed so loudly that she thought she herself would go deaf, even once she had realized that she was awake and no longer dreaming...

That nightmare had scared her shitless. Almost immediately, acting purely on instinct, she had grabbed her backpack, thrown in a few belongings, put on clothes (people would just ask questions and alert the police if she left wearing her nightgown), and quietly left the house without even stopping to look in on her sleeping father. Near downtown, outside a bar, she had been able to hotwire an old car which had obviously seen better days, and then...

And then, she had run out of gas, miles from nowhere, stuck somewhere in Farmland USA. Fortunately, she had run out of gas at the crest of a steep hill. As the car had rolled downward, she had looked far enough ahead to notice a large clump of trees near the road, and the car had fortunately had just enough momentum to get her within that clump.

And now, she had been walking since nightfall. She had no idea of where she was, nor which direction she was going. All she knew was that several hundred miles behind her was home.

Nearing the edge of a small town, she noticed ahead a large black metal fence, typical of those seen enclosing cemeteries in horror movies. She was not surprised to peer inside the fence and see tombstones behind the small eroding chapel near the front gate. Assuming that no one would ever think to come here, whether in daylight or at night, she approached the gate to find it padlocked, yet it was cracked open just enough for her to squeeze her thin frame through without too much difficulty.

Once she was inside the cemetery, the sky began to fill with thick clouds. Sniffing the air, she thought that rain might soon come. Listening to her stomach, she knew she had to find something to eat before she slept. Looking at her watch, she realized that she had been awake and running for over twenty-five hours, which would explain her extreme fatigue. She had stopped at a convenience store for some food and a pack of cigarettes, so she still had a few small bags of chips and three drink boxes in her backpack.

As she sat on the back steps on the chapel, eating what little she dared to eat to ration her supplies, the sky thickened with clouds until the moon was completely hidden from view save for a few stray moonbeams to see by. The sense of evil which she had been fleeing from washed over her like a tidal wave, suffocating her mind and causing her to nearly panic. Thinking the chapel itself might be cursed, she grabbed her backpack and ran out among the graves.

When she finally dared to slow down and simply walk, she realized that these graves had also been sorely neglected for far too long. All the tombstones were in some form of erosion from wind and rain and snow, and many were even broken with large chucks of stone missing or lying on the ground. The few small trees and shrubs were unkempt, growing out wildly, limbs and branches growing out along the ground. There were no fresh flowers lying before the tombstones, no flags for war veterans, no wreaths laid with care.

And still the evil seemed to follow her.

"Rebecca..."

Rebecca spun around quickly, hands curled into fists, arm raised to strike, making a quick mental check to make sure her trusty knife was still hidden under her short shirt. But no one was there.

"Rebecca..."

The voice was the same as the diabolical laugh from her nightmare. The evil around her seemed to swell, and suddenly there were flames at a distance on all sides of her. Stepping back, Rebecca glanced up at the sky, seeing the clouds parting to reveal a dark-orange moon. Something canine - a wolf or a coyote - howled in the distance.

Another group of flames suddenly appeared, forming a new ring inside the first, much closer to her position. Fear and an instinct for self-preservation caused Rebecca to mindlessly reach under her skirt and rip the knife out of its holster, effectively ripping her skirt as well. Wielding the knife defensively, she spun around several times, whipping her head around to keep the long hair out of her eyes, eyes darting about to search for the source of the evil. If only Ania was here to assist with her knowledge - no matter how limited - of magic!!!

"Rebecca..."

She ran, away from where the voice seemed to have originated, only to trip over a chunk of broken gravestone and thud harshly on the cold, dewy ground. The knife fell out of her hand, and out of her reach. Her right leg and her breasts all hurt tremendously, likely bruised in the fall, yet Rebecca jumped back up to her feet, sliding the backpack off the left shoulder and slipping it quickly down to her right hand. "Show yourself," she challenged in a determined low voice.

"As you wish..."

Every tombstone suddenly erupted in flames, instantly making the air around Rebecca much too warm. Many canines howled in the distance, from all directions around her. Even though the sky was now completely cloudless, lightning struck several places near her.

Feeling intense pain from her right hand, Rebecca reflexively dropped the backpack to the ground. Looking down at it, she saw nothing but flames. Backing away quickly, she looked quickly around for something else to use as a weapons, finding nothing which was not already on fire. The heat standing among the gravestones was becoming unbearable, forcing her to run back the way she came, back toward the chapel and the main gate of the cemetery, yanking off her jacket and tearing at her t-shirt, screaming with terror. As she passed the little chapel, it burst into flames.

Arriving at the gate wearing just panties and shoes, tears pouring down her face, Rebecca tried to yank the gate open, only to find that it had been locked shut. Yelling obscenities at the padlock, she mindlessly tried to break the heavy chain with her bare hands, breaking several of her meticulously-sharpened black nails to the cuticles, yet she continued her efforts despite the pain.

Sudden surges of incredible voltage wracked her body, drowning her screams of terror and pain with the sound of unrestrained electricity. Rebecca's vision was all blinding silver and white resulting from the freely-flowing electrons, and some small part of her mind felt her long hair standing straight up into the air and her heart beating at an inhuman rate. It even seemed as if her own blood was boiling, both in her veins and down her forehead and cheeks.

Then everything was suddenly normal. Rebecca collapsed upon the dewy, cold ground, gasping for air and feeling herself to make sure everything was still in its correct place and unbroken. Once she had gathered herself in one mental piece again, she slowly climbed to her feet and checked the gate again, finding it still shut and padlocked. Looking around, the chapel and the tombstones were no longer ablaze, showing no signs of having ever been burned. The rings of fire in the distance had been extinguished, and the cloudless sky sported a soft-white moon and millions of sparkling stars.

Rebecca shivered, only then realizing that she wore only her shoes and her panties. Stumbling back toward the chapel due to the huge bruise to her thigh, she found her shredded black t-shirt on the ground. As she reached the first of the tombstones, she found her skirt, also torn beyond wear. Suddenly realizing that someone may be able to see her, she clasped her arms to her chest, wincing at the pain from the bruises received in her initial fall.

The slight breeze definitely did not make her feel better. Looking around for shelter from the wind, nothing but the chapel presented itself as a viable possibility. Dejected, weary, scared, paranoid, cold, and nearly naked, Rebecca returned to the eroding chapel. The only thing in her favor was that she no longer felt the evil which had apparently followed her here from her bedroom the night before. Fortunately, Rebecca could plainly see as she approached that the back door to the chapel was partly open. If only Ania could be here with her to

From a fiery pit suddenly appearing before her, hundreds of hands grabbed Rebecca everywhere. Her scream was lost in the canine howling all around her and the roar of the explosive flames which engulfed the small chapel. The pit slowly closed around her tiny feet, and despite her violent thrashing, the hands pulled her through the ground to her death far below.

Shortly after dawn, several young children ran through the partially-open gate to play in the open area next to the eroding chapel.