Dark Realms (49 page)

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Authors: Kristen Middleton

Tags: #vampires, #vampire, #anthology, #occult, #paranormal romance, #zombies, #science fiction, #witches, #zombie, #witch, #monsters, #action and adventure, #undead, #series books, #dystopian

BOOK: Dark Realms
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“Oh…my…God!” I choked, backing away. Bile
rose in the back of my throat as the guy I once kissed assaulted
the dog again with that very same mouth.

I turned to run, stumbling over the garbage
bag I’d dropped, my ankle twisting in pain. I cried out and
struggled to stand when something grabbed my leg firmly. I looked
back and froze in shock; it was Scott, only it wasn’t him. His
green eyes were now black as death, cold and lifeless. His skin was
gray and riddled with bloody sores. His mouth, which still dripped
with Charlie’s blood, twisted into a grimace and he let out an
unearthly screech.

“Scott?!” I screamed as his teeth tore into
my skin.

~~~

 

I opened my eyes and drew
my comforter up to my chin. Reminding myself it was just a dream, I
released a shaky sigh and forced myself to
chill out
. Yes, it was
definitely
time to stop
watching horror flicks before bed. Forcing the last of the
disturbing images from my mind, I turned over and let out a real
bloodcurdling scream.

“Jed, what are you doing in my room!?” I
gasped. It was the third time this week he’d snuck up on me.
Apparently, it was now a special game.

Three-year-old Jed giggled with delight.
“Hi, Cassie,” he said, licking a thick layer of green slime from
his nose. Even in the dark I could tell the sleeves on his
Spiderman shirt were crusty from dried-up snot. “Hey, want to see
my new caw?” he said. Jed has a hard time pronouncing his R’s. He
removed something from his jeans and lifted it proudly into the
air; a small, blue convertible that had seen better days.

“Nice,” I mumbled, plumping up the pillow.
“Now…please, go find Kris. You need a tissue.”

Instead of leaving, however, he opened his
mouth and began coughing, hurling millions of invisible germs
towards me.

I backed away in horror
and yelled, “Mom!” Sure, he’s adorable with his big blue eyes and
dimpled cheeks, but I’ll be the first to admit; I have a major
phobia of germs. My room is off-limits and the daycare kids
are
forbidden
to
enter it; especially, the little “germy” ones.

My mother popped her head into my room and
cringed. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t know he snuck in. Come on,
Jed, time to clean you up.”

I snorted. “Clean him up? What about my
blankets? He just infested my whole bed with his nasty cold
germs.”

Jed‘s lower lip began to tremble and his
eyes welled up with tears. “Sowy, Cassie,” he whispered.

My heart melted immediately. I reached over
and ruffled his curly blond hair. “Hey, it’s okay, Jed. Just cover
your mouth when you cough.”

His face lit up. “Huggies?” he asked,
raising his crusty arms.

“Um, later, okay?” I replied as I beckoned
my mom with my eyes.

She grabbed him and placed him on her hip.
“Come on, Jedster. Let’s go wipe your boogies and get something to
eat.”

“Thanks. Make sure nobody else waltzes in
here.”

She motioned towards my
alarm clock. “Hey,
Wild
One
, it
is
time for you to get up for school. Start going to
bed earlier and you won‘t be so grumpy every morning.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not grumpy. And
quit calling me that.”

My last name is “Wild” and
my family thinks it’s amusing to call me
The Wild One
, because I was such a
handful as a kid.

My mother frowned but left my room without
another word. As she closed the door, I could hear the chaos taking
place in other areas of the house; kids were chasing each other,
someone was screaming about a lost toy, and a baby began to howl.
We live in Wolf Creek, a small town in Minnesota, and my mom runs a
daycare in our house. What was once a calm home, is now hectic zoo.
It was only Monday and I already yearned for the weekend.

I dragged myself out of
bed, grabbed my favorite white Henley T-shirt, and a pair of jean
shorts, then snuck into the bathroom to take a shower.
Unfortunately, I have to share it with the daycare kids, so I have
to be stealthy about it. If they realize it’s me in the bathroom,
they’ll do things to torture me, like wiggling their fingers under
the door, jiggling the knob, or repeating “
Wild
” over and over, annoying the
heck out of me. Today was no exception.

“Enough,” I warned, combing through my
thick, dark hair. I pulled it into a ponytail and looked closely at
my reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes, pug nose, and extremely
dry lips. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found some of
my sister’s “plumping” lip gloss. I applied it gingerly to my lips
and then frowned. Now they looked swollen, like I‘d been punched. I
tried wiping it off, but it didn’t help. My eyes widened in shock
as they continued to puff out.

Seriously
, I thought,
why would anyone intentionally do this to their
lips?
It was embarrassing and my lips were
starting to sting.

I threw my hands up in defeat and stomped
into the kitchen. To my dismay, I noticed three other kids, sick
with colds. They all smiled at me, matching snot dripping from
their noses.

“You have
got to be kidding. What is it with everyone
dropping off their kids here when they’re sick? Shouldn’t
they
be home taking care
of them?”

“I know, nothing I can do
about it, unless they have fevers,” mom replied wearily as she
grabbed several tissues and began wiping noses. “Everyone seems to
be getting sick with this horrible cold. Some parents even dropped
off their kids just so
they
could go back home and rest.”

“Figures,” I mumbled.

I pulled out my cell phone to check my
messages when, Daniel, a five-year-old boy who pretends he’s my
shadow, sneezed all over it. I turned to my mom in horror, who
winced and quickly handed me an antibacterial wipe.

“Daniel, why don’t you go and draw Cassie a
nice picture?” she said, guiding him away from me.

Frantic to escape, I grabbed a cereal bar
and my truck keys. “I’ll eat this at school. I‘ve got a karate
class tonight.”

My mom nodded and then wrinkled her nose.
“Megan? Do you have a poopy diaper?”

I turned and fled the
kitchen before I could smell the answer. Just then my dad shuffled
by in his robe on the way to his
“Man
Cave”
in the lower level of our home. He
calls it his sanctuary from “
Daycare
Hell.”
Right now he looked like he’d just
stepped out of Hell himself, with the dark circles under his eyes
and hair that stuck up in every direction.


Hi, dad,” I said. “Let me
guess, you were up late again blasting zombies?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Heh. I actually
finished the game.”

My dad is addicted to
video games. Before I was born, he once spent thirty-six hours
straight, playing
Everguild,
a very addictive Internet game, surviving only on
caffeine and buttery pretzels. When my mom became pregnant, she
lost her patience with his
harmless
addiction and brought a group of his friends
together for an “
Everguild
Intervention.
” Now he’s only allowed to
play games on his Wii or PlayStation, which he has only a slightly
better handle on.

“Do you have to work today?” I asked him. My
dad sells cars for a living, which isn’t particularly his dream
job. Unfortunately it’s something he’s really good at, so although
he grumbles about it endlessly, he never changes it.

“Not until this afternoon. You ready to try
out my new Beretta?” he asked, his face lighting up. His other
addiction has to do with guns. Almost every Saturday since I turned
sixteen, has been spent at the gun range with my father and
grandfather. Both avid collectors, they own about thirty different
guns between the two of them. When I began showing an interest last
year, they were both delighted and started teaching me everything
they could about guns. Now my aim is almost as good as my
dad’s.

“Sorry, dad, I can’t make it to the gun
range for the next couple of weeks. I have to study for final
exams,” I answered. “Plus, prom’s coming up. I’m just too
busy.”

Folding his arms, he gave me a stern look.
“That’s right. You’re going with that Scott kid, aren’t you?” he
asked. “Remember, no pre-prom parties, no hotels, and definitely no
alcohol.”

I snorted. “Hello? Does that really sound
like me? And you do realize that Scott and I are just friends? I‘ve
told you this so many times.”

His eyes softened. “Good, keep it that
way.”

“Well, I’m just lucky he’s going with me. I
didn’t go last year and probably would have skipped the senior prom
as well if he hadn‘t volunteered to take me.”

“Are you kidding
me?
He’s
the
lucky one!”

I bit back a smile. My
dad’s having a difficult time with the idea of me dating,
anyone
, which he
shouldn’t; my love life is as dead as the zombies in his games.
Scott and I
are
only friends, but it always seems to slip his mind. The last
time I went out with Scott, my dad had insisted on chatting with
him before we left for the movie theater; all the while cleaning
three of his guns. My dad found it amusing; I was horrified. But
Scott thought my dad’s guns were “
awesome
” and missed the entire
point.

“Wait, Cassie!” hollered my mom from the top
of the stairs. My stomach clenched when I saw she was holding a
dirty diaper. I swear there was steam radiating from the putrid
bundle.

“What?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong with
your lips?”

I released a deep sigh. “Allie’s plumping
lip gloss.”

She bit the side of her lip. “Oh. Well
they’ll probably shrink down soon. Anyway, could you please pick up
Allie from her dance class tonight?”

I groaned.

“Please? You‘re going to karate anyway, just
swing by on your way home.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Thank you, honey.”

I nodded then sprinted out
the front door before she tried to volunteer me for anything else.
Allie’s my twelve-year-old sister, and since my parents pitched in
to help me purchase my truck last year, I’m her personal chauffeur.
I didn’t mind at first, but since she’s started middle school, her
social life is busier than mine. Sometimes I have to fit my plans
into
her
schedule.

Glancing across the cul-de-sac, I noticed
Charlie following Mr. Hendrickson to his mailbox. We waved at each
other and Charlie stared at me instead of blasting me with his
usual obnoxious barking.

I hopped into my truck, a red ‘98 Chevy S10,
which has seen much better days, and prayed silently that it
wouldn’t give me problems; it’s been finicky about starting
recently and I really don’t have time to get it checked out;
especially with prom coming up. When it turned over right away, I
sighed with relief and drove over to my friend Paige’s house.

“Hi. You’re early. Oh…my…God…what happened
to your lips!?” Paige cried, covering her mouth.

“It looks that bad?”

“It just looks…painful.”

Paige, as always, looked perfect. With her
long, blond hair and startling green eyes, half the guys at school
are in awe of her. Some people at school call her Skipper, Barbie’s
younger sister, because of her sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones,
and carefree spirit.

“My lips were dry, so I
tried using one of Allie’s lip gloss tubes.
Bad choice.”

“I guess,” she replied, trying to hide a
smile. “Do they hurt?”

I pursed my lips and nodded. “They burn a
little.”

“Just use Vaseline next time. That’s all I
use.”

“Oh.”

She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Did
you watch the news this morning?”

“Are you kidding? In my
house you won’t find anything but
Dora
or
Elmo‘s World
on the
television
.”

“Well, the media is all
over this flu virus. It’s amazing how fast it‘s spreading. Many
people are actually getting so sick they’re being quarantined in
different countries. It’s like the
Black
Plague
.”

“Most of the little kids in my house are
sick. If this keeps up, I swear I’m moving out.”

“Hah, you wish. Anyway,
it’s getting so bad, that in Europe, they’ve closed down a ton of
schools. Wouldn’t it be awesome if ours was shut down? We could
hang out at the mall and check out
hot
guys all day long.”

I laughed. “Yeah, fat chance of that
happening. They won’t even close when we have ten feet of
snow.”

“Well
I,
for one, am sick of school; sick
of all the uptight bitches, juvenile jocks, and dumb-ass tests.
Seriously, I wouldn’t mind if school shut down for the rest of the
year!”

I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. Having a rough
week?”

She shrugged and stared out the passenger
window.

"Ok, spill it. What’s wrong, Paige?”

She looked at me, her eyes moist. “Eva King.
She’s such a lying, two-faced bitch. You know, she pretended to be
my friend just so she could get closer to Kyle.”

Kyle used to be Paige’s boyfriend until he
broke it off with her last month. I thought she’d gotten over it
already since she seemed to have a crush on someone new every
week.

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