An orphaned girl is haunted by a strange man...an Incubus that wants nothing more than to see her suffer and beg him for mercy.Lemons. You know me.
That winter seemed to be the coldest one yet. I hadn't felt so cold, so alone in years. The memories of my family were still evident in my mind, their bright and happy faces forever etched into my very DNA. I often had flashbacks of my blissful life, the good and the bad times easily better than the run down orphanage I lived in.
That is, until he showed up.
That was the winter that I almost went mad.
I shivered quietly, my checkerboard notebook balanced against my knees as I sat crouched on the front stoop of the Kelvin Orphanage. I scribbled down some random vines, the thin black lines weaving in and out of the books spine. I brushed my obsidian bangs from my eyes, the shock of the light only fading away when I let them fall over my eyes again. The temperature felt like it was beginning to drop so, after looking out over the frozen hills, almost gazing into the icicles that dangled from the brittle branches, I stuffed my notebook into my thick jacket turned to walk back into the building.
It was then that an almost chilling sensation pricked at the nape of my neck, something odd and unfamiliar in my wake. I merely shrugged this off, used to feeling edgy and scared in the short time I'd been at the Orphanage. My fear faded into my subconscious as I became on with the shadows in the poorly lit hallway.
'You'd think that they could afford lightbulbs.', I inwardly snorted, pulling my dark hood closer around my face while my boots thudded against the linoleum floor.
It was these little moments, these little things such as the silent thudding of my boots on the floor or the comforting embrace of my skinny jeans against my legs. I almost felt myself smile, the tiny bit of joy in my heart snuffed out when I remembered where I was, why I was here, and what I should be feeling-emptiness and grief.
How could I possibly be thinking about my freaking jeans when my family is dead?
So, for a moment, I allowed a few tears to stain my tawny face. I let a portion of my negative emotions escape me in the solitude of barely lit hallway. And in the swallowing depression, as I usually did, I realized that it would do no good to me or anyone else to stand there and cry in the hallway.
Instead, I wiped my tear streaked face and marched down the hall to the room that I shared with two other teens; Aaron and Selina. We were the eldest out of all of the kids was seventeen and Selina was sixteen like me. They seemed to be the only people here that I could truly talk to and relate to. Sometimes, they were the only ones that kept me from breaking down.
I walked over to my bed, stripping off my jacket and striped scarf. I swiftly slid my notebook beneath my pillow just before those two walked in, Aaron's coat suspiciously bulging.
"What'cha got there, Aaron?", I inquired, going over to his bed and sitting with him and Selina.
"Nothing much. Just decided to bring us some real food so we don't have to choke down that boiled shit they call a meal.", he sneered, unzipping his light blue jacket and spilling its contents onto his beige sheets.
"Oh my gosh!", Selina marveled, her strawberry blonde hair swinging freely at her lower back.
My mouth began to water at the sight of the various fruits, breads, crackers, dried meats, candies and a liter of Dr. Pepper. I just about cried at the sight real food!
Before any of us could even utter a thank you, we had grabbed anything we could fit into our mouths and were scarfing it down like fresh air. We all chewed happily, the sensations and textures of non-gruel in our mouths nearly orgasmic.
And somehow, through this new happiness, I felt someone watching me. Someone who I should not know.