A Night to Remember

Lightning flashed overhead, snapping a photo of the scene below the heavy clouds. Sam wiped the sweat from her forehead and rested against the cool earth behind her. Rains coming, she thought to herself as she glanced first at the dark ceiling above her, and then to her watch, which indicated Desmond was late, again. 

Rolling her eyes to herself, she began digging again, the rich scent of soil overwhelming her sense of smell, causing her to cough sporadically as she dug ever deeper.

How deep did they bury this asshole? She thought angrily. She was pissed to be doing this at all, and with Dez being a prick and showing up late all the time, it was no wonder that the Boss had put them on graveyard duty, literally. 

Distractedly fuming about all the shit that had went wrong, Sam was surprised, and relieved, when the tip of her shovel finally made contact with something solid. 

She hurriedly removed the rest of the soil from the top of the coffin lid and chucked her shovel up onto the ground above.

The lightning overhead gave another crack, illuminating the casket before her, where something metallic had caught her eye.

What was that? She reached forward and felt around the top of the casket lid. 

Shit, she thought. Why would there be chains?

She thought for a moment, trying in vain to remember if she still had the pair of bolt cutters in the car, when the ground below her gave an almost imperceptible shake. 

Sam froze, waiting to see if it happened again. Was it just her imagination, or maybe it was the rumble from the thunder? 

She shook her head at herself. It was nothing, she told herself, even though the hair on her neck stayed prickled as she turned her attention back to the coffin.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and turned on the flashlight. Sam drew in sharply. 

The casket was carved with odd symbols she had never seen before, and several large chains were wrapped tightly around it, with a large, silver padlock clasped in the middle. The goosebumps on her body intensified, and she quickly climbed from the grave.

She glanced around, drinking in the cool night air, a most welcome reprieve from the dankness of the earth.

Sam could see the dull, yellow lights emitting from the keepers building, but no movement. 

Where the hell was Desmond?

Lightning flashed again, and a light drizzle dusted the top of Sam’s head.

“Great”, she muttered under her breath. 

After deciding that she couldn’t wait any longer, she began the short and shadowy walk back to her car. The trees placed at strategic points along the path protected her from the rain, which was now starting to pick up slightly. The wind blew harshly, rustling the deafening leaves overhead, signaling fall’s arrival. 

Sam picked up the pace, eager to finish this job and get the hell outta here. 

She popped the trunk of her car and rummaged through the various contents until she found it.

“Aha!” She said, snapping the cutters open and closed.

She shut the trunk gently, and began walking back to the grave site. 

The rain was steadier now, but still wasn’t pouring, and for that she was thankful. 

She thought idly of Dez, and even though was angry, she was also worried. 116 jobs together, and though he was often late, he was never absent. The boss had assured her that this job would be the standard grab, but Sam had felt something was off. Maybe it was the unusually large payout offered, or the fact that the Boss, who was normally a very intimidating and bitchy person, had been adamant that they were the team for the job; either way, Sam wanted no part of it. Dez however, desperately needed the money, and Sam knew that he had never been wrong before.

Begrudgingly, she had finally agreed, and the day, or rather night, had been set.

Sam sighed as she came upon the grave site and did a double take towards the keepers quarters. The lights were off. 

Huh, thought Sam, must’ve went to bed early. 

Though she tried to shrug it off, the goosebumps were back, and somehow the air had changed. The rain had subsided, which wasn’t odd in and of itself, but there wasn’t a single sound. No rustling of leaves, no critters in the night. It was as if someone had powered down the world around her. 

She took her phone out, relieved to see that it was still working, and turned on the flashlight to climb back into the grave. 

Sam’s eyes widened. The coffin that had once been painstakingly bound and locked, was wide open, empty except for the small pillow that once held its inhabitant’s head. 

Sam glanced around the cemetery, sure that Dez was playing a prank on her. She knew in her gut, however, that this was not the case. 

“Dez?” She called our feebly into the still night, her voice seemingly amplified by the  silence surrounding her. 

She swallowed hard, telling herself to remain calm and rational. 

There had to be an explanation, there had to be someone here who had opened it and emptied its contents, possibly the groundskeeper.

Yeah! That was it, she thought, chuckling nervously to herself. He had gone to his rounds, and noticed and he probably had the key to the lock.

Though as she told herself this story, she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Why would he have opened it? And why wouldn’t he be waiting here to see who had desecrated the grave? 

Sam’s breath hitched slightly, and she knew she was about to have a panic attack. Normally, Desmond would have been here to talk to her, keep her calm, and help her through it, but now she was alone, and terrified.

She had to get out of here. 

She left her cutters and shovel laying in the ground and moved hastily back towards the car. 

She concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out, repeating the words to herself. She was focusing so hard on her breathing, she didn’t notice the figure behind her, gaining on her with every step. 

“Ahhhhh!!” she screamed as a hand shot out and clutched her shoulder, spinning her around, and she was slammed into darkness.

When Sam awoke she was surrounded by blackness. She blinked, but not a speck of light penetrated this deep darkness. 

She tried to reach her hand up to her face, to make sure she had eyes, and hit something hard above her. She felt below her fingers tips and felt hard, splintery wood, and swallowed hard. Though she couldn’t see, she could tell she was lying flat on her back. 

She squeezed her eyes shut. I’m dreaming, she told herself, I’m going to wake up any second. But when she reopened her eyes, the same threatening darkness surrounded her. She was trapped. 

Sam began pounding against the lid above her, screaming. A little voice in her head was screaming too, telling her to calm down and think, but her actual voice drowned it out. 

Her panic intensified, reaching a fever pitch and her breathing stopped. 

A sudden sense of calm suddenly washed over her. It was euphoric, the feeling. It spread to her finger tips, and her body relaxed. She had never felt so at peace. She drifted dreamily through the darkness, in a state of nothingness and everything, all at once. Instead of feeling trapped, she felt free, more free than she ever had, and the events of the night drifted away from her, evaporating from her mind, as her body evaporated from this plain of existence. 

Light flashed behind her closed eyes, and awoken her senses. Her finger tips felt grass beneath them, and a light mist fell over her face. She blinked. 

She was back in the cemetery, next to the grave she had unearthed. She could smell the richness of the earth even from up here. Her vision felt sharper, magnified even, as she took in the clouded sky above her.

She sat up and looked around, saw her tools right where left them, and the groundskeepers shelter, lights on as before. 

Sam reached up and felt her head. Taking in the scene around her, she deduced she had passed out after her panic attack and hit her head on the gravestone; it would  certainly account for the changes in vision and smell.

She stood wearily, using the gravestone as a support. She eyed the large hole in the ground and was instantly relieved to find the coffin locked up tight. She had dreamed the whole thing.

She smiled to herself as she bent to pick up the tools. 

Sam stopped as she heard a rustling in the bushes behind her. She turned sharply and dove into the grave, landing lightly on top of the coffin below, surprised at her ability to do so. It wasn’t that Sam was a complete klutz, but she wasn’t exactly agile either.

“Sam?” She heard whispered.

Dez.

Sam climbed from the grave easily, dusting her earthy hands on her jeans. She noticed how textured her jeans felt against her hands, each thread showing itself to her one by one. 

“Sam I’m so sorry…” Dez started, moving towards her.

Sam stuck out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.She felt dizzy, nauseated to the point of sickness. 

“What is that smell?” Sam asked, breathing in deeply, attempting to remain standing.

“Huh?” Dez looked at her quizzically. “What smell?”

“I don’t know”, she said, moving slowly towards the smell, in the direction of Dez. “It smells metallic, and… good.”

Her eyes fell on Desmond who looked confused, rain soaking the top of his rain jacket. 

He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know what you’re smelling but-“

And she was upon him in an instant, teeth sunk into his neck, draining him of his thick, delicious blood. At first he fought, much like a gazelle against a cheetah, but the loss of blood was weakening him by the second. His body twitched feebly against hers, and though she wanted to finish him off, wanted to tear him limb from limb, something in her pulled her away.

Sam sat back, drawing in air, though suddenly she knew it was mechanical, and not biologically necessary. She looked down at her hands; they looked the same, but she could feel every nerve ending, just as she could feel Desmonds blood satisfying the deep hunger inside of her.

Sam watched as Desmond choked and sputtered, blood oozing from between his lips. She bent and licked it away, sending a tremble through her body. 

He would change soon, she somehow knew that, and she would be here, waiting. Funny, she thought to herself, taking in the night around her, leave it to Desmond to always keep her waiting.