Page 5 of Deadmen's Captive

I felt my cheeks warm slightly under the praise. "Thanks, David. That means a lot."

David just continued looking at my easel, his expression thoughtful.

"I always feel like I'm seeing through your eyes when I look at your paintings," David said finally, breaking the silence.

I frowned, looking at my painting. I’d sketched out the forms and the placement, working out the perspective in the golden sienna, and I’d just started filling in the patch of blue sky, but other than that, there wasn’t exactly much on the canvas. It was a strange thing for him to say.

"Uh, thanks," I said, not sure how to answer that.

“Ok, I’ll stop interrupting your flow and go and check on the other students,” he said, finally stepping back. “See you later, Paige.”

His hand stroked down the small of my back in a goodbye gesture, and I stiffened slightly. I wasn’t used to physical touch. My mother certainly wasn’t the cuddly type and my father was barely at home enough to be a parent. Plus his touch had always made my skin crawl, and had mainly been limited to punishment when I’d upset my mother or when he came home drunk and in a foul mood. Sometimes he’d just needed someone to take it out on, and both me and my mother were fair targets. Friendships had been tricky with my mother’s snobby ways, and boyfriends had been strictly forbidden.

I put it out of my head, and turned my music back up. As the afternoon waned into evening, I lost myself in my painting once again. The strokes became more confident as I filled in the shapes with vibrant shades of colour. The abstract outline slowly formed into a garden scene - a wild one full of bright flowers and overflowing with life - like those you'd find in an old English manor. It was only when I realised I needed more turps, that I looked round to find the art room was empty and the sun was setting outside. I sighed, realising the light was gone and my time was up. At least I'd got the basic shapes and colours down. Tomorrow I could start adding the details and that was what took the time. I’d definitely need the natural light for that though, so I began to pack up, covering my palette, and washing out the brushes.

Once my supplies were tidied away, I unclipped my apron, hanging it neatly by my easel, and washed my hands, scrubbing away most of the oil paints that clung stubbornly to my skin. I looked down at my brown dungarees and rolled my eyes as I saw the tiny splatters of paint in various colours. Then I grinned. My mother would have a fit if she saw me wearing dungarees and the bohemian style top I’d snagged from the local charity shop, but I wasn’t going to get in trouble when she wasn’t even here to see it. She was miles away in London and the designer clothes she’d painstakingly picked out for me were hanging in my wardrobe unworn next to a few finds from charity shops in the town. I finally got to pick my own clothes for the first time in twenty one years, and I was loving it, though I wished I could figure out a way to earn some more money. I'd applied for a couple of bar jobs, but they'd already been snapped up.

My playlist timed out and the silence of the now-deserted art room enveloped me, a stark contrast to the cocoon of music and concentration I'd been wrapped up in all afternoon. I glanced around, noting the fading light, and realised I'd better hurry if I didn't want to walk back to my dorm in the dark. Blackvellyn wasn’t exactly an urban hub, but I was young and female, and although I had been sheltered through my teens, I was still well aware that attacks could happen anywhere.

I exited the building, hearing the beep as the electronic lock snicked behind me and set off across the university campus. The sun was very low now, casting long shadows and bathing the grounds in a soft, pink hue. Lectures had let out over an hour ago, so the grounds were fairly quiet, with just the odd few people milling around - that peaceful time in between the work day ending and the nightlife beginning. I was yet to actually go out in the evening. My new friend Kate, had invited me a couple of times, but I was enjoying my new chilled out life and getting to binge watch forbidden tv series and eat junk in my pyjamas, so I’d put her off so far. At some point though, I was going to go out, I promised myself.

I was nearing the edge of the campus where the university buildings stood closer together, forming darker alleyways, when a prickling sensation crept up my spine. I stopped, unease flooding over me. The campus was quieter than usual. The usual sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves were oddly muted. Silence hung in the air like a thick fog. I glanced around nervously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. I continued on my way with a shiver. It was nearly October and I really needed to remember my coat now as the winter season crept in. I rubbed my hands down my arms as I crossed a small square, nodding at a group of students sitting on a bench chatting who waved in my direction, then headed down another narrow street.

Blackvellyn was a beautiful town and university with its hills and dips, and stone buildings,cobbled streets and narrow alleyways, but right now, I'd have been happier with open spaces and bright modern street lamps coming on around me rather than these golden ones. I was halfway down the street when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I was alone, the path ahead shrouded in darkness. The street lamps lay a good twenty feet away and in between, there was nothing but an ominous void. I swallowed hard, clenching my fist as unease slithered up my spine. I quickened my pace, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. There was probably no one there. Just a figment of my imagination, fueled by the true crime documentaries Kate had made me watch with her.

I continued on, picking up my pace slightly. The dormitory was just a few buildings away now, its lighted windows promising safety and warmth. As I neared a narrow alleyway between two buildings, the sensation grew stronger. I paused, glancing over my shoulder and scanning the deserted path behind me. Nothing seemed out of place - the darkening shadows were still and silent. Yet, the feeling persisted, a chill creeping up my spine like icy fingers. I looked over my shoulder again, still expecting to see nothing but empty space again. However, this time there was someone there. A figure clad in black, stood there under the lamppost at the corner of the street, his face in shadow.

My heart pounded in my chest and my breath hitched in my throat. A gust of chilling wind blew past, ruffling my hair and dampening my spirits with the scent of approaching winter. It seemed to bring with it an omen of unease. I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth, and also in an attempt to quell the rising terror within me.

I turned back and quickened my pace, the echo of my steps mingling with the erratic beats of my heart. The lights from the dormitory were now tantalisingly close yet so agonisingly far away. An eerie quiet descended around me, broken only by the distant murmur of traffic and occasional bouts of laughter from students returning to their dorms. I glanced back, only to see that the figure had left the circle of light under the lamppost and was heading my way. His tall, broad figure was practically swallowed by the darkness that surrounded him and his face was hidden, adding to the mounting terror that gripped me. He moved steadily towards me, and as he crossed under another light, it lit up his face with a golden glow, revealing a grinning skull.

I swallowed my scream down as I realised it was simply a mask, eerily realistic, but just a mask.

“It's a bit early for Halloween isn’t it?” I called, hoping he didn’t notice the shakiness in my voice.

He said nothing, those dark eye sockets fixed on me as he walked towards me, and the streetlight glinted off something metallic in his hand. Was that a knife? Fear coursed through my veins. I instinctively took a step back, then another, never taking my eyes off him. He kept advancing, saying nothing, but his gaze followed me. Panic welled up in me, my heart pounding in my chest as adrenaline surged through my veins. I turned on my heels and I ran. The night air whipped past me as I bolted down the cobblestone street, all thoughts abandoned except the primal need to escape the danger. My footsteps echoed around the quiet buildings, each one amplifying my panic further.

I clutched my bag tighter as I sprinted, the art supplies inside jostling with my every movement. The dormitory in sight now was a beacon of safety, a sanctuary from this relentless dread. My breaths came out in short, harsh gasps, ragged and painful as the cold air stung my lungs, but I pushed on.

The sound of his footsteps echoed mine - he’d sped up and he was getting closer. My shaking hands fumbled with the ID card even before I reached the dormitory entrance.

As I neared the entrance, I dared to glance back over my shoulder. The masked figure was still there, closing in fast. Panic surged through me again and a scream lodged in my throat. Ahead, the automatic doors to the dormitory loomed large and inviting, but they seemed to be moving further away with each step I took.

Finally reaching the doors, I swiped my ID card across the panel with trembling hands. The doors slid open with a soft hiss and I tumbled into the warm, well lit lobby, gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The night watchman at his desk looked up at my sudden entrance.

“Everything ok, miss?”

“There was a guy… following me… outside..” I gasped.

He frowned, standing up and marching over to the doors. He disappeared through them and I leaned against his desk, trying to catch my breath. In a few minutes, the watchman returned, shaking his head.

“Couldn’t see anyone, miss. Can you tell me what he looked like?” He pulled out a notebook and started making a note.

“He was dressed in black,” I said. “He had a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, and he was wearing a skull mask.”

The watchman stopped writing and looked up at me. “A skull mask?”

I nodded.

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