The Stranger: Only the Beginning

Bustling down the busy city street, I bump into a tall man. "Sorry!" I call out. I turn to face him and I am met by a man with dark hair and soulless eyes. A flash or red and then nothing. He growls loudly and turns before stalking away. Confused, I stare for a moment. "Crap!" I shout, having been sidetracked. I quickly resume my quick pace down the sidewalk. I arrive at the tall office building ten minutes later. I walk into the building. Five minutes early for my interview. Good. I need to make the right first impression.

"Ms. O'Hare?" a young receptionist calls out. I quickly stand up and walk over. "Mr. Lucas will see you now," the young woman says, a large smile splayed across her face. I quickly walk in the direction in which she pointed and realize rapid footsteps behind me. A man brushes past me. A man with dark hair and dark eyes. The same soulless eyes of the man I had met earlier.

"Excuse me? Hey!" I shout. I begin to follow him but he rounds a corner. When I do the same, he's gone. I sigh heavily and walk to the office of Barnum Lucas, one of the biggest publishers in the country. An old-timey name maybe, but he's good nonetheless. I quickly find his office and rap on the wooden door sharply with my knuckles. "Enter." He calls out, frustration in his voice.

He stands up when he sees me. "Ms. O'Hare. Finally. I have met with almost ten talentless people today. Sorry but writing is a harsh world." he says with an indifferent shrug. I smile faintly, trying to hide my hands shaking and the nervousness hiding just behind the facade of a confident author. "Now, Ms. O'Hare, let's see what we've got here," Mr. Lucas says, holding his hand out expectantly. I quickly hand him the Manila folder with a 549-page draft of a book I wrote.

"Wow. You seem to like writing rather lengthy novels. Tell me, how long did you work on this?" Mr. Lucas asks. "Off and on for seven months. In between writing other novels and such." I say, brushing my hair behind my ear. It's a nervous habit. I sigh and sit down as he gestures for me to do so. Mr. Lucas continues to flip through the pages, reading snippets every now and then before fast-forwarding several pages. He tosses the thick draft onto the table. "Absolutely amazing. Ms. O'Hare, you have real talent. I think we could definitely use you here." Mr. Lucas says. I smile and say "Really?" Mr. Lucas smiles in reply. "Absolutely. Without a doubt. I will call you with details tomorrow." he says. I smile and thank him before rushing out of the office and down the hall excitedly. I pull my cell phone from my pocket before dialing my father's number. "Hello?" he asks. "Dad! I got the job!" I say. "Oh my God, Sarah, that's amazing!" my father replies enthusiastically. I smile and he says "Celebration tonight at the house. Cake and booze. Sound good?" I laugh and say "Yeah, Dad, sounds great. Be home in a bit." I hang up the phone and begin to rush home. I notice, however, the man walking three feet to my left. I quickly shove him into an alley and withdraw my Tazer from my handbag. I hold it to him. "Okay, who are you?!" I shout in a frustrated voice. The man's eyes glow red and his fist hits me in the face

My vision goes dark and I do not awaken for a while. And when I do, it is not a good sight. The man is standing over me, a shark's grin on his face. It's cold and menacing. I look at the man, studying him closer now. Everything about him is methodical, meticulous, planned. His hair is dark and gelled-over, not a single strand out of place. His handkerchief in his left breast-pocket is folded perfectly and his goatee is a quarter-inch on the dot. Yet there's something so... familiar, so... familial about him. "Damnit, Sare, why'd you have to make me do it so soon?" the man asks. "Sare? That was Josh's name for me." I say. The man's smile widens. My blood runs even colder. "No. No, Josh has been dead for four years!" I scream. "No, I was missing. Though my name isn't Josh anymore." the man corrects.

"Prove it." I say. "Excuse me?" he asks. "Prove it." I repeat in a defiant voice. "Okay. How?" he asks. "Tell me the one thing we did when we were nineteen that we weren't supposed to." I say. "You mean the orgy party? Or the other orgy party? Or the other orgy party?" the man asks, confused. "No. The other thing." I reply. Suddenly, a look of realization dawns on his face. "You mean when we beat Thomas Ivory to death with a baseball bat." he says. I feel a lump form in my throat. Only Josh and I knew about that. "Joshie?" I ask. He growls and slams his fists down on the table. "That's not my name!" he screams. He suddenly regains composure and smiles widely. The man stands there and runs his fingertips along my cheek. "Do you remember why we killed Thomas?" he asks. "Because he raped me." I spit. "Because he raped you." Josh repeats. "I should have let him kill you. It could've saved me a lot of time and energy." he says. The words are painful and cut deep. I open my mouth to speak, but I'm interrupted. He picks up a pair of large silver pliers and runs his fingers over them. There's a small bit of blood on them. I sigh sadly and ask "What happened to you?" There's an evil smile as Josh turns to look at me. His eyes glow red and he says "I made a deal with the devil."

He grabs a scalpel and uses the blade to make an incision in my carotid artery. The blood begins to drain. "Goodbye, Sister." he says. The blood drains and the darkness sets in. Once the light fades, though... It doesn't come back.