Page 29 of Monsters of Desire and Nightmares of Passion

“There now, honey. Relax for a second. Sit and drink your Earl Gray. I even put the right amount of sugar in it. We’ll call the police and get everything fixed.

The scent of freshly brewed tea slips into my nose. I grab the cup, holding on to it for dear life, trying to escape the cold that fear and fighting for my own life pushed into my body. My teeth still chatter as Pegg touches my hand.

I try to recall the rules. Find something you can feel.

I feel the cup in my hands. It’s ceramic. It’s hard and hot. I enjoy the heat sipping though my fingers.

My eyes dart around and inspect the familiar setting. The nurses’ station, the locked drugs cabinet, the computers and chairs, the plant standing stood on top of the file cabinet. I still have no idea what type of plant it is.

Slowly, bit by bit. my anxiety drains away, like mud sinking to the bottom of a lake. It’s all going to be okay. I imagined the monster. It was a protective mechanism. I’ll probably need stronger meds and will lose my job. I’ll become a patient again..

It’s all good.

All good.

Pegg presses her chubby hands on top of mine. “Have some tea, honey. It’ll pass. You’ll feel better.”

I drink a huge gulp of tea. Everything is the same. I try to speak but my mouth won’t cooperate. I can’t find the strength to turn my thoughts into words. I take another sip, looking at Pegg. Her hands are stained with blood and fresh blood covers her scrubs. Not that I care. Everything is like a dream, feeling very surreal and far from my grasp. As I watch her watch me, with a glimmer of joy in her eyes, I finally manage to recall what I wanted to ask. Yes, that was it. The Police. Something had happened and I asked Pegg to call the police, but my addled brain refused to recall what exactly had gone on that made such a call necessary. Still, I ask, slowly, my speech slurred as if I’m drunk or had a stroke.

“Pegg, why aren’t you calling the Police?”

“Oh, honey. Drink more tea.”

My mind is fuzzy, and the colors everywhere are off. It’s like a water painting with too much water, making the edges blurry. My head is spinning. The smile on Pegg’s face tells me loud and clear my mental state has nothing to do with a concussion. Something is off. Very off. My fight or flight reaction is triggered. If only I could move my legs.

“What did you put in my tea?” I can hear my own speech becoming more slurred, as if I struggled to pronounce each word.

“You really think the entire world revolves around you, Princess?”

“What?” My brain is wrapped in cotton. It’s difficult to understand what’s going on. Recap. There’s blood. And my tea is freaking off. Pegg pets my head, the way you would pet a cat. Slowly. Deliberately. Her tongue makes a clicking noise.

“I poisoned you. All I have to do now is wait for the poison to fill your system and make your little heart stop. A blood sacrifice isn’t as bloody as people think. The important part is that the sacrifice dies.” Pegg chuckles at the end of the sentence.

My mind boggles at what Pegg said about a sacrifice, about me thinking that the world revolves around me. All that shit. I’m an average woman living a fully normal life. I don’t do or say anything out of the ordinary. Why is she so upset with me? I’m her colleague, her friend for years. What makes her hate me so much?

“Love, believe me. I seriously considered inviting you to become a part of The Church of Light. Then I found out about you and your tainted blood, and I had to decide. I wish I could say I’m sorry I ended you, but I’m not. Not in the least.”

My body is numb. I want to move, but it’s impossible. My limbs are heavy, like they weigh a ton. My body hurts and burns, as if the poison is creating a map of destruction inside me. I sense a claw pressing deeply in my throat.

Hurting.

Killing me, slowly, drop by drop.

Pegg sits on her chair, watching me with a coolness I couldn’t explain. Pegg was my friend, and the second friend who tried to kill me in one evening. Images of Dr. Martin attempting to rape and kill me resurface. It’s so hard to hold on to them and make sense of what’s going on. I don’t know what’s happening. Everything is confusing. My mind feels as if someone is using it as a punching ball.

Everything I believed to be right is somehow broken, wrong, and flawed. I see Pegg’s ugly face, the rage and hatred she hides behind her sweet smile. I can’t remember exactly when, but I stop seeing Pegg. I can’t say I’m sorry about that. The last thing I want to see is Pegg’s face. Rage fills me. I wish I had the energy to jump to my feet and make her swallow that cocky smile.

My eyes close and I’m gone.

5

Ivy

I find myself inside a huge hall. It can’t be real. It’s foreign yet still familiar in some way. There are seven doors, and I have the urge to open one of them. One looks shinier than the others. I walk over and touch it. The wood feels alive under my flattened palm. I have an urge to push it open. Is this a psychotic episode? Hell, yeah. Still. I’m curious about what my subconscious is trying to show me.

The door screeches as I push it open and pass through. I don’t enter a room. I’m standing on the shore of a lake, the moon shining bright. A young girl, maybe twelve, is running, laughing, and spreading pure joy. I want to see who’s chasing her. I walk closer and called out to her. She doesn’t see me. This… whatever this is… continues. Instead of trying to do or say anything, I observe in silence, leaning against a willow with a knotted old trunk that offers me the perfect hiding space. Even though she doesn’t see me, I feel like I must hide and make sure I don’t disturb her game.

First, there’s a noise. As I look toward the darkness, it appears. A creature with the lower body shaped like a scorpion. It follows the little girl, covering the space so much faster than she can. She looks back and laughs. Her dark hair fans around her shoulders.

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