tagNonHumanYou're Not Alone

You're Not Alone

byChicklet©

Erin woke with a start. Her eyes opened wide, staring at the dark ceiling above her head. Had she heard a sound?

A bump came from downstairs, and she sat straight up, clutching the blanket to her breast. She lived alone, with no pets or feasible causes of bumps in the night. Her imagination turned to intruders.

Her mind raced as she tried to come up with some sort of plan. She didn’t own a gun, she didn’t believe in them, and in her wildest dreams she had never imagined a scenario in which she might need one. There was some mace in her purse, but her purse was downstairs. The nearest telephone was in the living room, also on the first floor.

Slipping out of the bed, she tiptoed to the door. She eased it open, wincing as its hinges creaked, and made her way cautiously down the upstairs hallway.

She felt her way along the wall, eyes straining in the dark for anything at all. She had never realized how little light filled the inside of her house.

A peek down the stairway told her that the coast was clear, at least at the moment, and she started down the stairs. Her whole body was tense as she took one step after another. One of the stairs usually creaked when she stepped on it, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember which one.

With great relief she reached the first floor. Erin peeked her head around the doorway to the living room, but saw nothing. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark for her to feel confident that she was alone, and she nearly ran to the telephone. She dialed 911, and proceeded to give her name and address to the operator on the other end.

Her purse was next to the phone, and while she talked into the receiver she searched for her mace. Once armed with it, she crouched there, in the corner, and waited for the police to arrive.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the officer told her. He had arrived an hour before, and searched the house and the surrounding yard for any sign of an intruder. “I don’t see anything.”

“I swear to god, someone was here,” Erin insisted, glancing around her home nervously.

“That may be so, ma’am,” the officer said somewhat impatiently, “But he is gone now. I don’t see any trace of him. Perhaps you ought to check and see if anything is missing.”

Erin thanked the officer and showed him the door, thinking to herself how stupid and childish she had been. Of course no one had broken in to her house. There wasn’t any reason someone would do such a thing. She had probably just had a bad dream and not shaken it off before waking up. She turned the lights off again and went upstairs.

**

The next day Erin went about business as usual. Her routine involved getting up early to make a full breakfast, followed by a shower, and finally plopping down in front of her computer to work on her novel. It had been four years since her first publications, and she had come up with three ‘New York Times Bestsellers’ since then. It was an early start to a career, but Erin was thankful.

Her books were mostly based on her life, growing up as an orphan with relatives that passed her from family to family until she had turned old enough to move out on her own. Four years of school, a somewhat worthless journalism degree, and she was out in the real world. She had written her first novel about her mother, the stories she had collected from her relatives, and it was an instant success. The profit from the book gave her the chance to quit her job as a waitress and buy this house, and kept her comfortable while she wrote the next book. Since she had no close relatives, living alone was almost a dream come true. The shy 26 year old rarely ventured outside her home, preferring the company of her computer.

After a couple hours of typing out notes, the phone rang.

“Hello?” answered Erin.

Nothing. Silence was the only response she got, and she repeated herself. She heard a click, and then a dial tone. Erin shrugged and put the receiver back on the cradle, turning again towards the computer.

She lost track of time as she wrote her story, becoming involved with the characters and buried with their dialog. By the time she looked at the clock, it was already five o’clock, and Erin realized that she was hungry again.

Looking guiltily at the computer screen, sorry to leave the scene unfinished, she got out of her chair and went towards the kitchen. It would be no good to starve herself for her work, she thought. It was much better to take care of the author than the story. It would work itself out anyway.

Boxes of easy-to-prepare food lined the cupboards. Erin had selected pasta-roni and begun to prepare the food when the phone rang again.

Keeping an eye on the stove, she went back to her phone and picked it up.

“Hello?” she said.

The almost eerie silence responded to her for the second time that day.

“Who is there?” Erin demanded, her voice rising.

Again, nothing. Before the stranger on the other end could hang up, Erin slammed the phone down.

She felt angry, and violated, that someone would be calling her and hanging up. A first time, if they got a wrong number, that was excusable. She practically stormed back in to the kitchen to stir her pasta.

The food was done, and Erin sat alone at her kitchen table eating it. Her eyes wandered to the phone, and she wondered if it would ring again.

She told herself to stop being silly, and think about her latest chapter instead. She hadn’t been too happy with one of the descriptions, and wondered how she could change it.

The phone rang again.

Erin’s hand shook as she picked it up. This time she didn’t say anything, instead just stood there with the receiver to her ear.

“Erin?” the voice on the other end questioned.

“Oh, Ellen, hi.” Erin breathed a sigh of relief to hear her aunt on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay, honey?” asked Ellen. “Why didn’t you say hello?”

“I’ve gotten a couple calls today that, well, sort of scared me,” Erin told her aunt about the two silent calls.

“Maybe you should call the police, dear,” her aunt said, concerned.

“No, Ellen, it’ll be okay. I’m sure it was probably just a couple of wrong numbers. Just a coincidence that they happened on the same day, that’s all.”

“Alright, Erin. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

Erin assured her aunt that she was taking care of herself. Eating regularly, sleeping regularly, not slaving away at the computer. Ellen seemed like the only person that really cared at all how Erin was doing. Unfortunately, Ellen hadn’t been around much when Erin was younger, or Erin might have turned out a little more confident of herself.

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetie,” her aunt said, yawning into the phone. “I’m going to go off to bed now. But I want you to call more often, do you hear? I haven’t heard from you in over two weeks, and I start to worry.”

“I promise, Ellen,” Erin smiled. They said their good-byes and Erin hung up the phone.

As soon as the phone was back in the cradle, it rang again. Erin picked it up, assuming Ellen had remembered something to tell her.

“Hi,” she said casually.

Nothing. The silence was back.

Shivers ran up Erin’s spine and she dropped the receiver, looking around her nervously. Her house seemed unusually empty and large, totally devoid of life. It scared her.

Reaching down, she picked the receiver back up and placed it back on the cradle, walking away from it. She went to the front door and locked it, turning the lock on the knob, the deadbolt, and putting the security chain in place. She looked nervously around at the windows. Perhaps she ought to get bars on them.

Ellen had suggested calling the police, and Erin seriously considered it. But it had been so recently that they had been called to her house for a false alarm that she decided against it, feeling foolish. She might be scared, but there was probably some stupid simple explanation. There always was. She put her plate in the sink and went back upstairs to finish her chapter.

Darkness filled the house as the sun went down. Erin walked through the rooms, turning on all the lights. She was ashamed of herself for being so childish, but right now she was almost afraid of the dark. She imagined that she could hear movement all around her, and on the complete opposite of the spectrum it was way too quiet. It was as if she was eight again and the monster under the bed was waiting to grab her as she walked across the floor. Finally, deciding that she was too nervous to type anymore, she went to bed.

Buried under the blankets in her large soft bed, Erin felt more secure. She shut her eyes and tried to imagine beautiful settings that her characters could visit. Sleep came in no time at all.

The phone ringing woke her up, dragging out of a pleasant fantasy. She sat straight up in bed and wrapped the blankets around her. A glance at the nightstand clock told her that it was 3 AM and she wondered who would be calling her at this time of night. No one, she thought. Just the silent caller who had rung earlier in the day, calling back to scare her again. Erin pulled the blankets over her head, curling in to the fetal position. Why wouldn’t they just give up?

The ringing continued, and she finally got out of bed, ran downstairs quickly and yanked the phone cord out of the wall. She hurried back to her room, feeling that something was right on her tail, and leapt back in to the bed.

“Stop being such a baby,” she chided herself softly.

She lay back down, but sleep didn’t come so easily this time. Tomorrow, she thought, she’d call the police.

Erin stared at the ceiling for most of the night, but dozed off eventually, tossing fitfully with nightmares that didn’t seem to stop. **

The nightmares were unkind.

“They cannot see me, for I am not here,” the demon whispered. “I am here only for you, Erin.”

“What do you want from me?” Erin whispered.

“Everything,” the demon chuckled. It approached the bed. Sleepily, Erin watched it, unfortunately very aware of how it floated rather than walked. It had legs and feet, but seemed not to need them.

“Leave me alone,” she pleaded.

“But you are alone. That is why I am here.”

“I want to be alone. Just go away and leave me alone.”

“You’ll be begging me to stay soon enough.” The demon was upon her now, it’s ghoulish form above the bed, looking down on her. Its legs were spread, standing over her, and yet the bed didn’t move like it should with such apparent weight.

The demon wore no clothing. It’s body was humanlike in appearance, but Erin could tell that it was not a natural form. The face was handsome, but cold, and the emotions that Erin felt could be seen in the glassy eyes.

“I’ll have you now,” it chuckled as it lowered itself onto Erin’s petrified form.

Erin gasped as the cold skin touched her own, and struggled to push it away. Despite its apparent weightlessness, it was heavy, and Erin could not budge it. The serpent between its legs came to life, poking at Erin’s inner thighs.

“No!” Erin said, pushing the demon away.

“Oh, yes,” the demon smiled, and without any effort at all, it’s thick staff was buried inside of Erin.

The dream only got worse, but strangely wonderful. The demon thrust into Erin, and Erin protested, but no protest would stop the rock hard figure of the demon. It kept coming, kept thrusting, kept pushing, until Erin’s body began to feel pleasure. The staff buried inside her was large and cool, like the dildo that she used on occasion. Closing her eyes, she could ignore the creature, and concentrate on the warm feelings the cool phantom was placing in her.

It was a surprised Erin that climaxed under the creature, and with wide eyes she watched it dissipate. It was gone. She was alone again.

She did not wake until morning, when the house was silent. There were new ideas in her head, boiling over, ready to be put on paper.

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