Don't Trust Strangers

He sits there eyeing her from a distance and thinks to himself on how she’d be perfect for it. He sits there idly, waiting for the sacrifice. She lies there hoping that it’s alright. There was just a slight moan that quivered from her lips as the blade entered her side. Then, as a scream was beginning to emerge, her mouth was gagged closed.

The birds of hell are waiting, he thought, this her death desire.

There was no quarter held for those there, as each took samples of her blood and placed it into machines to get scanned. The beeping from them only rung loud in her ears, it was as if an atomic bomb was let loose there where that was the only focusing sound that she had. Alone she lay there. She did not know anymore if she was exposed or not.

Though she wasn’t the blood that oozed from her dagger wound only made her think so.

The birds of hell are awaiting, with wings of fire.

Is this really what she signed up for when the man in the grey suit appeared before her and told her that she was needed? She thought back on that morning’s event. He was at her car door when she opened it wide to get out. He held it for her as she bumped it like she does every morning. She saw him staring at her rear and at first paid it little attention, just like every other male, focused on one thing.

She thought about how she heard drums and birds chirping wildly as she thanked him. It sounded strange but thought that things were okay. He was cute, in a professor kind of way, but nothing that she’d be serious about.

“Hello Mrs. King, I have been waiting on you to arrive,” he spoke, his voice reminded her of the old Indiana Jones guy and she loved him, so, she listened more, “I have great need of you. Come with me.” Here she remembered his hand appeared from his pocket and seemed to be wanting her hand.

She took it without thinking.

He had a rugged look, as she stared longingly into his eyes, his face had a 5 o’clock shadow on it, under his grey hat, which looked like something from the 1930s, she noticed it was long, straight, and black with just the hint of grey. His eyes big and brown, she felt as though it was safe to look there and walking away from her car, she got into a limousine and he too followed her in.

In the back of the limo, she was offered whatever it was she desired if it was there in the back. The drive she could not recall, as she was drinking heavily and had no recollection of anymore memories.

She remembered waking, tied to a, something that felt like stone.

“How are you feeling Mrs. King?” said that Indiana voice.

“I feel like I am condemned to be in someone else’s Hell. And yet, it feels good.”

“Good, I knew you were the one.”

“One for what?”

The machine stopped and she heard the printer dispense paper. Her eyes did her best to look over, but sadly she was not able to see anything and she was worried.

“Sir,” said one voice that sounded male, “She’s it.”

“Good.”

She started crying, fearing for her life, fighting against whatever bound her but she was unable to escape.

“Easy there Mrs. King. You are special, and sacred. There are only two other people like you and we are going to bring you to them.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Now, don’t be silly. You are far more valuable to us alive then dead. You can bring back the future for mankind.”

Before she could ask anything, a white cloth appeared before her and she fell asleep.

This is the house of death, do not enter

Here, even angels die in arms of demons

Here they stopped in front of a building and she just awoke at that moment. Her hair, as she felt, was being brushed and clothes as she felt too were new and seemed to be being lint brushed. On her feet as she noticed were red shoes that matched the dress, neither were silky, but they felt great on her skin, incredibly soft. Her hair was flat ironed and straight. She felt incredible, gorgeous, and beautiful. She had not felt that way in she did not know how long.

“Who will I be meeting?”

“You’ll see Mrs. King. He is well to do and loves women like you. Please, enjoy his company.”

“Let’s make something clear, I am no whore or someone easy. I am married.”

“Nothing like that in the least young lady, he enjoys the company of the young than those from my generation. Enjoy your time."

She got out of the car and looked at the tall white building that gave the idea that he was into the 1800’s rather than today. It was tall, way too far up for her to see the top, white and looked old. It was with multiple columns outside and surround the place, a wooden porch ran around it in a circular fashion and seemed as though there was no break in it. Walking to the entrance, she shivered in fear, fear that he would not be what she expected, fear that he’d do something.

As she knocked, a young man answered, smiled, and allowed her in without speaking.

She walked in feeling all up in the damned but had nothing to offer the owner but herself and that was something she was not ready to do.

A thumping from the stairs took her attention away from her thoughts, the were loud, like he was stomping down. She prayed for something to save her. She was scared, but put forth a brave face. The door closed and she turned around to see that the man that let her in was not there anymore. A mild giggle and spinning around once more see saw no one, nothing.

Blood poured from the top of her head, touching it confirmed it to be hers, when she fell to the ground.

There was no one to help her.

This is the house of death, do not enter

Here, even angels die in arms of demons

FIN.