Page 2 of Dead By Dusk

“X” Marks the spot.

Let’s keep this our little secret, love. -> X

I allow myself one second of hesitation before pushing down on where the ‘X’ is carved and watch as the right side of the board dips down, revealing a small but beautiful dagger with an all black, steel, slightly serrated blade, sitting atop a small sheath. The handle is wrapped tightly in black rope that knots at the bottom.

Curiosity is a living thing that blooms within me as I hold it, thinking about just how familiar it feels in my grip–significant, even. I shove it into my right side pocket just as I hear murmuring coming from the living room.

Placing the rug back, I ensure the carving is concealed before standing and heading toward the living room. It’s then that I see the man on the couch looking around the room with a dazed look in his eyes. He startles when he sees me, rushing to sit up asfar as he can. His eyes quickly become curious and inquisitive, filling me with unease.

Maybe it’s just the situation, though, because I can feel myself giving him the same look.

“Who are you?” he asks me, voice deep and gravelly with disuse.

I soak in his appearance for a while longer before answering. His face is covered in freckles, giving his pale skin more color. Dark brown eyes are framed by blonde—almost white—eyelashes and stay locked on me, but every now and again he lets them flick to other parts of the room before returning to where I hover in the middle of the room.

“Silene,” I answer, before clearing my throat, realizing this is also the first thing I’ve said since I woke. “And you are?” I prompt. I’m starting to feel unsettled with the way he’s sizing me up like I’m some sort of obstacle before he rapidly blinks a few times, and sits upright, feet planted on the hard floor. Taking a moment to scan the room, his gaze catches on the other woman a few feet away and doesn’t stray when he finally answers.

“Nathaniel. But if you can tell me where we’re at and how we got here, then you can call me Nate,” he says before leveling his gaze back to me. “All my friends call me Nate. At least, I think they do. I honestly don’t remember much other than my name.”

That’s when I realize I’ve been so focused on finding a weapon that I haven’t really considered how I got to this strange, unknown house.

What the hell happened?

What day is it?

The fact that I even remember my name is honestly a surprise to me. Maybe I let all of these thoughts show on my face at once, because Nathaniel just pushes out a deep sigh. He tries to stand, but a small grunt escapes his lips as he falls back onto the couch instead.

“If it’s dizziness or nausea, it’ll pass soon. That happened to me too,” I say as I head back into the kitchen. Grabbing two cups from one of the cabinets, I fill them halfway with tap water and bring one back to him, cradling the other in my grasp. “I don’t know how we got here or how many of us there even are. I woke up a few minutes ago. If even that. I think there’s someone in that room. I heard footsteps and saw a shadow under the door before it walked away. I didn’t check it out yet though. Didn’t know what would be waiting for me on the other side.” I gesture to the door that’s no more than ten feet away.

We both look at each other and then toward the door slowly, him seeming just as nervous to find out what’s possibly waiting on the other side as he pops every knuckle on both hands. The sound, loud and sharp, sends an uncomfortable chill down my spine. Yet, the sound is much less unnerving than how familiar the tell of his emotions feel.

I don’t tell him that, while he was asleep, I was loudly searching for a weapon and that whoever was in that room undoubtedly heard me rummaging around.

Theymusthave heard me, yet made no move to come and investigate.Why?

Arethey also nervous about a possible ambush? Are they hurt? Do they know why we are all here? Didtheybring us here?

There are too many questions stacking up. I don’t remember much about myself, but some part of me feels tremendously uneasy with the number of unanswered ones. Which, in case no one else is keeping track, is all of them. There are zero answers to many questions and I’m not sure that any information I could be given wouldn’t result in the addition of—you guessed it—more questions to our already overflowing plate. So, I take the step toward the door that hasn’t opened yet.

The one where with something waiting on the other side.

I look at Nathaniel as he stands, taking a few steps closer to me and nodding me on. Turning back toward the door, I force myself to move forward, one step after the other. A slight tremble courses through me, only noticeable when I reach my hand toward the doorknob and take a breath, trying to steady my emotions. Admittedly, it doesn’t help the pounding in my chest, but it does ease the shaking in my hands.

The deep inhale quiets every question I’ve been asking myself over and over like a broken record. It almost feels like I was used to this. Silencing my inner turmoil and calming myself in stressful situations. Putting my mind at ease when everything inside me is screaming “DANGER.” This realization has me pausing for just a second before one more question flashes in my mind.

Who am I, really?

Closing my eyes, I take a few more steps, slowly approaching the door. Nathaniel’s presence behind me is like a shadow, something I can’t feel but I know exists, ready to move as soon as I do.That thought gives me little comfort. I wrap my small, calloused hand around the cool metal, but as soon as I begin to turn the knob, I’m yanked forward with the door. I yelp before I hear the crashing sound of glass shattering against the wall behind me, only confusing me further as I stumble into the chest of another man.

One that seems to have quite a bit more muscle on him than the one behind me, but I don’t let my thoughts drift much further than that before quickly regaining my balance and back away from him. Away from him and closer to the lanky ginger who definitely could not take him in a fight, but I at least know his name. I make it back to the other side of the door, and a shattered lamp on the floor catches my eye. Turning, I quirk an eyebrow up at Nathaniel whose face turns just about as red as his hair. I turn back to Muscle Man in front of me.

I give him a good once over, the same as I’ve done for the others, and the slightest of nods as I finish and straighten myself up.

He’s taller than me, but not by much. My guess is he stands at about five foot ten, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for in size. The man looks like he’s never missed gym day in his life with biceps and thighs bigger than my head. I hope I never have to fight him, because that might just be a losing battle.

Though, the jeans he’s wearing wouldn’t be great for mobility. That might give me a leg up considering I’m in a pair of well-fitting black cargo pants that seem tailored for maximum efficiency and comfort.

His hazelnut and honey hair is cropped close to his head. His olive complexion is similar to mine, and his hazel eyes haven’t strayed from me for more than a second, presumably also sizing me up. His perusal ends with a small, confident lift of his lips, giving away his lack of concern.

---