Stranger in my Attic

“Better late than never!” I shrugged heading into my attic, dreading the chore. “I always get stuck cleaning the damn attic.”  Grumbling to myself, a cobweb interrupted my deep thought.  Shuddering, my hands frantically dusted my red plaid dress off.  Little invisible fingers tickled at my skin, almost feeling as if spiders danced across my skin.  The light switch clicked, a weak yellow light barely lighting the room.  Apparently the other light bulb decided to die.  

“Excuse me.” A soft voice whispered behind me, my body nearly jumping out of it’s skin. “I need help.”  Spinning around, a ragged looking man limped towards me.  A loud crack echoed around me, his nose breaking.  Blood dripped onto the floor, my copper eyes spotting the open window.  Sighing, the window squealed shut while being closed.  The man collapsed into a heap, grasping onto his nose like it was his lifeline.  His wild brown hair hung around his shoulder, chocolate brown eyes screaming in fear.  Come to think of it, his clothes were too clean for him to have been up here for a while.

“First off, who the heck are you?” I queried, reaching for a paper towel. “Are you in trouble or something?”  Taking the paper towel from me, he struggled to stand.  Concern washed over my face, the white paper turning red.  Rolling his eyes, he ran his hand through his hair. 

“I am Stephan Millet, and I was running from an attacker.” He huffed, grabbing another paper towel. “Your window was open, so I used it to escape him.”  Disbelief befell my painted lips, a soft blush forming on my cheeks.  The gentle vulnerability of his fear made my heart skip a beat, his face falling flat.  Clearing my throat, he nervously glanced into the dark night.  

“If I were to believe you, why were you being chased?” I questioned, unease filling my eyes. “You aren’t a criminal are you?”  Daggers just about shot from his eyes, anger boiling in his veins.  

“No, I am just in a stranger's attic for the fun of it!” He shouted sarcastically, waving his hands around. His arms crossed, a quiet groan tumbling from his lips.  Before I could open my mouth to protest, loud bumps and bangs erupted downstairs.  Bam! The attic door burst open, loud boots stomping up the stairs.  Panic erupted in my mind, his arm tugging me to the recently closed window.  His fingers desperately pulled the window open, disappearing out of my house.  A tall man dressed in black popped around the stairs, stopping in his tracks.  Silver glinted in the dim attic light, his wrist flicking incessantly.  Fright widened my eyes, the strange guy pulling me onto the slate roof.  Sharp edges cut into my bare feet, icy coolness nipping the bottom of my feet.  

“Who is that?” I questioned breathlessly, climbing down gingerly.  Putting his finger to his lips, he guided me to the slick wet grass.  Clouds gathered above us, tiny sprinkles of water dripping onto my pale skin.  Thunder boomed, a flash of lightning striking inches near us.  My heart was pounding out of my chest, my fingers trembling.  

“Let’s go!” He ordered impatiently pulling me into my gray plastic shed. “Keep quiet.” We crawled into a nearby kitchen cabinet.  His face was just inches from mine, dry blood on his skin.  Still his eyes gazed into mine longingly, the horrid situation not existing almost.  Heavy raindrops pounded against the brown plastic roof.  Sweet music erupted around us, lulling me to sleep.

“We can’t hide in here forever.” I whispered, gauging his reaction. “I do have weapons somewhere in here.”  Taking a deep breath, the cabinet door squealed open.  Relief washed over me, seeing no one around.  Hot whiskey breath bathed the back of my neck, my hair standing up on its end.  Fright paralyzed my body, a cold metallic blade poked into my back.   

“Don’t turn around!” A gruff voice spat, an evil grin probably curling on his lips. “Unless you want to die.”  Gulping, Stephan stayed in his hiding spot.  Rope creaked, the rough rope cutting into my skin with each wrapping.  My long brown wavy hair clung to my face, wet heavy drops soaking me to my bones.  Silently, only trudging boots splashing their way into my house.  With a thud, he tossed me onto the kitchen floor.  Green eyes shimmered with excitement, his gray hair was just so.  Pulling off his black leather gloves, he tossed them to the side.

“Let me go!” I yelled, trying to get the rope off of my wrist. “What did I do to you?”  Shrugging, his head tilted to the side.  A wide grin danced across his face, white teeth smiling back at me.  Horror quaked my body, my mind racing what to do.  Where the hell is that guy to come help me?   

“Nothing.  You are bait.” He explained, playing with his knife. “He has a serious hero complex, that is the very reason he was in your attic.  I am actually here to get you as well.  You see for the past few nights, my eyes have watched you do everything.  How can I put this?  You are a beautiful, amazing creature.”  Vomit threatened to fly from my throat at this statement, disgusting was the only word to describe him.

“You are a pig.” I spat, banging my head on the worn oak cabinets behind me. “You won’t get away with this.”  Chuckling to himself, his fingers stroked his chin.  My eyebrows furrowed in fury, a scowl forming on my lips.  

“I like them feisty.” He mused, licking his lips. “The feistier the better.”  My wrists screamed as the ropes fell behind me in a small pile.  A dirty knife handle sat on the edge of the sink, offering an opportunity to escape.  Humming noises died down, the lights flickered out.  Leaping to my feet, my trembling fingers wrapped around the slick black handle of my chef’s knife.  Pain quaked my thigh, a knife sliding into my leg.  Biting my tongue, I limped to the bathroom.  Icy cold tile felt slick beneath my bare feet.  Shakily the lock clicked shut, providing me a moment to think and gather myself.  Slowing my breath, my worn black cell phone vibrated against the blue marble.  An unknown number flashed across my screen, dismay splashed across my face for a red battery flashed.  Shit, I swore under my breath as the screen went black.  Shouts and screams erupted behind the old wooden door, the black handle jiggling aggressively.  A shot rang out in the still house, the bullet flying  through the door.  Thumps and bumps crashed behind the door, two men grunting and groaning.  

“Let me in.” The voice of Stephan begged, wiggling the door handle.  Limping to the door, it squealed open.  He slithered in and slammed the door shut, the door handle dancing away.  The lock clicked behind him, the crazy guy outside banging on the door again.  

“I was waiting to try and protect you.” He explained apologetically, sitting me down in the tub. “You need to leave that in, or you will bleed out.”  I bit my tongue, fighting my urge to insult him sarcastically.  Hot blood was soaking my dress, making it cling to my leg.  My leg quivered with stress, and agony.

“I know that!” I growled through gritted teeth. “Did you call the cops or something?”  Before he could answer, the door smashed down, dust snowing down around us.  His hand wrapped around this guy’s neck, his breath growing shorter and shorter.  Leaping up the best I could, my knife slammed into his  neck.  My new friend fell to the floor with a sharp flood, his lungs gasping for air.  Grumbling to himself, he pulled the knife out of his neck.  Blood poured from his wound, his body falling to the floor like a floor board.  The lights flickered back on, revealing a pool of blood dying his hair red.  Red and blue lights flashed, blinding me.  Two officers rushed in, the shorter one noting the long knife in my leg.  They ushered us out of the house into the waiting ambulance.  

“Is he your husband?” The nice blonde EMT questioned, eyeing him suspiciously.  Nodding, we all sat there.  A pregnant pause hung between us, awkward gazes passing to each other.  My mouth felt dry as we pulled up to the local hospital.  He plopped me down into a wheelchair, and sat me in the waiting room.  A small smile crept across his face, the beaten clipboard sitting in his palm.  

“So I get to find out who you are?” He teased playfully, handing me the board. “So tell me your name.”  Chuckling to myself, the pen clicked against the clipboard, sounding like Morse code.  His gentle warm eyes looked into mine, reading my blank expression.  

“I am Charlie Swanzey, your fellow survivor.” I answered, setting the board aside upside down. “I don’t usually do this, but how about we get something to eat after this.”  Shaking his head, his finger lifted my chin to his face.  His lips pressed against mine passionately, the beeping and moaning fading away around us.  A sharp throat clearing jerked us apart, an annoyed tall older nurse stood there tapping her toes.  

“This is the ER, not a hotel room.” She said sourly. “Let’s get you stitched up.”  Rolling my eyes, she wheeled me away to fix the elephant sticking in my leg.  Stephan winked at me, a long sigh pouring from my lips.  At least I got a date to look forward to after this, and it was not with my attic.