Sweet Nightmares (The Damned Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  (Untitled)

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  Epilogue

  Sweet Nightmares

  Published by Zombie Cupcake Press

  83 Ducie Street, Manchester, M1 2JQ

  First edition: April 2017

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  © Copyright by Zizi Cole 2017

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, nor be circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover design © Zombie Cupcake Press

  Editing by Emily Cargile

  Prologue

  I looked down at my hands. In my grief-stricken mind, I could still see the blood covering them and my arms. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to be able to get through this. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle everything but I had to get through it. There was no getting out of or avoiding it. I opened my eyes and checked to make sure my hands were clean. I looked around the crowded funeral parlor. There were flowers everywhere and the crowd was a sea of black. If they only knew that a monster was sitting among them. A monster that was responsible for everything.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the minister beginning the service. His words, that were supposed to be soothing, did not make any sense. All I heard was the sound of his voice. What he was saying sounded foreign to me. Nothing had made sense after that night. The last week had been a blur of making decisions I thought I would never have to make. These were the consequences of my actions. I just had to make it through the day. A couple more hours. Then I could go home and try to forget that horrible night.

  The minister interrupted my thoughts for a second time. “Now, Alexandrea will say a few words about the dearly departed.”

  I walked up to the podium and took a deep breath. I was never any good at public speaking. I scanned the crowd. I recognized most of the people there. Get it together. Just read what you wrote and you will be done.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming.” I began lamely. “What can I say about my parents? They were amazing people. I don’t know how I’m going to survive without them . . .”

  As I read my speech, my knees started to shake. I glanced up to see every face in the crowd on me. I felt like they were staring into my soul. I just hoped they couldn’t see the monster that was inside me.

  1

  I crept to the door and entered the room quietly. I stalked my prey. She was lying so quietly and unsuspectingly in her bed. She would never see me coming. A part of me wanted her to see me, to know who I was and what I was about to do. I stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at her sleeping form. I didn’t have the pleasure to listen to her scream. I couldn’t alert my other prey. I had to take them down quickly before the real fun could begin.

  I looked down at the face that was so familiar to me, so similar to my own. I had to kill her. I ran a finger down her cheek. My head was screaming to stop, but I knew I couldn’t. I grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back, exposing the vulnerable length of her neck.

  Her eyes shot open and she stared at me wide-eyed and afraid. Her blue eyes the same shade as my own, pleaded with me not to hurt her. I had to hurt her. I put the knife to her throat with a shaking hand. I pressed hard and started to slit her throat. Blood sprayed from the wound mid-stroke, and I jumped, slightly surprised. I knew about arterial spray but I had never experienced it first-hand. I finished cutting her throat as quickly as possible. I watched the life drain out of her eyes. Her mouth worked like she was trying to speak as she died. I did it. I killed my own mother.

  I woke up with a scream ripping out of my throat. I was covered in sweat. I looked around the room and for a moment I was teleported back to that night. I didn’t see the room, instead I saw another room, covered in blood splatter. My hands had blood all over them. I looked down and my clothes were covered in blood. I closed my eyes and counted down from ten. When I got to one, I opened my eyes and was back in my bedroom. I looked at the clock. I slept for a whole two hours. Great. I knew I was going to have a hell of a time functioning today. Good thing I had plenty of coffee downstairs.

  I got out of bed. I knew that there was no way I would ever go back to sleep before I had to be up for the day. I went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I looked in the mirror and studied my reflection. My blue eyes were haunted, my cheeks looked hollowed out, and my skin was a pale color. My long, blonde hair hung listlessly. I sighed. Maybe if I could get more sleep at night without the nightmares plaguing me, I could convince people I was alright. To hell with people, I wanted to convince myself.

  I turned the shower on, making the water as hot as I could stand. I stripped down and stepped into the shower. I leaned my head against the wall and let the water beat down onto my back. How could I continue living like this? I wasn’t eating. I definitely wasn’t sleeping. I was full of guilt about what I had done to my parents last month. I couldn’t even close my eyes without seeing the scene. I knew I had to get myself together. I stood under the shower until the water ran cold.

  I got dressed and went downstairs to start my first pot of coffee. I sat at the island and stared out of the window. Maybe I would sit outside and watch the sun rise while I drank some coffee later. I always loved watching the colors that painted across the sky as the sun came up. Of course, before everything happened, I wasn’t generally up early enough to watch the sunrise. Now when I watched the pink, orange, and blue dance across the sky, I could forget for a little bit about the horrors that had happened in my life.

  I grabbed my coffee and phone and went to sit on my porch. I stopped at the couch and grabbed a throw in case it was chilly outside. I sat on the oversized swing and pulled my legs up onto it. The sun started to rise, and I felt the pressure of the night lift off my chest.

  I must have dozed off because suddenly I jerked my head up and looked around. The sun had completely risen now and it had warmed up to the point where I probably didn’t need to be covered up anymore. I wasn’t sure what woke me up. I looked around and didn’t see anything, but the distant rumble of an engine caught my attention. I wondered who could be coming this way. The only reason I would hear the rumble of an engine was if there was someone coming to the house. The road that led to our house was a dead end that curved off into our driveway. The driveway to the house was over a mile long and was lined with trees on both sides. I watched the drive closely. Who in the world would come out here to see me? No one had been by the house since after the funeral.

  A beat up 1976 Chevy pick-up truck that looked painfully familiar came into view. It couldn’t be, could it? I hadn’t seen him si
nce we graduated high school ten years ago and I took off to find a bigger and better life outside of this small town. I couldn’t imagine why he would come out here. I gently shook my head. It couldn’t be him. After what I did to him, he would never come see me.

  The truck rolled to a stop and the driver turned it off. I couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat because the figure was just a shadow. My heartrate picked up and I broke out in cold sweat. The truck door opened and the driver got out of the truck.

  The driver was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a beat up leather jacket. The jacket looked like it had seen better days. He was wearing tennis shoes and a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes so I couldn’t see his face clearly. He had enough scruff on his face that it looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. His light brown hair went past his ears and was in obvious need of a trim.

  He shut the door with a resounding thud and walked slowly up to the porch. I kept my hands in my lap as I watched him walk up because they were shaking and I still didn’t have my heartrate under control. I managed to steady my breathing so that maybe this visitor wouldn’t know that I was so shaken up by the idea of having company, especially someone I didn’t know. He stopped at top of the steps to the porch and turned my direction. I could feel his eyes on me even though I couldn’t see them. He finally spoke.

  “Hey, Lex. Sorry I didn’t stop by sooner. I would have gone to the funeral, but I was out of town and wasn’t able to make it back in time.” His voice was a deep timbre. “I’m really sorry about your folks.”

  I sat there stunned. It was him! I couldn’t believe he was here. I had so many questions and memories flying through my head that I just stared at him. He took his hat off and I saw his deep brown eyes, the shade of delicious milk chocolate. I used to sit and dream of those eyes while in class and then I would stare into them for hours after school. Those eyes were very expressive. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling, I just had to look into his eyes.

  He hadn’t changed in the past ten years. He was a little more muscular, but other than that he was the same. He was six-foot-tall, broad shouldered, and had a great body. He was lean and didn’t have an extra ounce of fat on him. I studied his face. He had a strong square jaw with a small scar on his chin where he busted it open in football practice sophomore year. His lips were full and kissable. His nose was slightly crooked, again, from a football injury.

  He grinned. “I’ve never known you not to talk, Lex. Cat got your tongue?”

  I smiled, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you. Thank you, Jake. I appreciate it.”

  Jake stood there looking at me for a long moment. “You look like hell, Lex. Do you take care of yourself anymore?”

  I glared at him. “Really? I’m dealing with the death of my parents. Both of them. I think I’m entitled to look like shit.” Mentally I added, I’m dealing with what I did.

  He sat down on the swing beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. I was tense at first but I gradually relaxed into his arm and side. He smelled the same and felt the same as he did ten years ago. He looked at me and said, “Tell me what happened. I heard stories, but I want to know what you saw.”

  I shook my head and my eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t know him anymore. I wouldn’t be able to tell him what happened and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the story I told the police. I didn’t want him to know that I was a monster. He could not find out what I did.

  “Okay, it’s alright, Lex. You don’t have to tell me anything right now, darlin’.”

  I inwardly grinned at the pet name. He used to call me that all the time. The only time he didn’t call me darlin’ was when he was mad at me. It felt like no time had passed even though we hadn’t seen each other in ten years.

  “What brought you back from California, Jake?” I asked once I composed myself. I needed to change the subject before I fell apart and told him everything. I never could keep things from him.

  “Well, I went to UCLA on a football scholarship, which I’m sure your mama told you. During the last game of the season, I blew my knee and wasn’t able to play anymore. Then dad needed help on the farm, so I moved back,” Jake explained. While he was talking about his injury, I noticed that he was rubbing his left knee like it still ached. Then he looked at me and studied my face for a moment. “Why did you come back, Lex? When we graduated, you told me you were never comin’ back to this hellhole again. What changed your mind?”

  I looked down at the ground and tried to figure out what to tell him. Admitting to failure was not something that came easily to me. I sighed. “Things just didn’t work out, Jake. When I finished college, I couldn’t find a job and I just floundered in the city. Then I was in a relationship that ended very badly, so I called momma and daddy, and they helped me move home.”

  He hugged me with the one arm around my shoulders. “I’m glad you’re back, darlin’. I’ll be honest, I thought about you a lot over the years. I missed you. Of course, your mama told me about that bastard you were livin’ with. He’d better hope he never runs into me in a dark alley. He shouldn’t treat a lady like that.”

  He had talked to my mother a lot apparently, so I had a feeling that he knew more than what he was letting on. I didn’t think my mother would ever tell him about the whole situation with Michael because she knew how he would react and she knew it would embarrass me. I shrugged. I knew I shouldn’t have come back. I knew it was a mistake even before the incident. If I hadn’t come back, my parents would still be alive. I wouldn’t have done it.

  Jake changed the subject and we reminisced about high school and the times we had for a while. It was a pleasant visit. I hadn’t had a nice conversation with anyone since my parents had died. I had been completely isolated for the past month except when I had to get out and go into town. It hadn’t occurred to me how much I missed human interactions until Jake came to visit.

  After visiting for a while, Jake stood up and looked down at me. “I’m sorry, darlin’, but I gotta get goin’. I’m supposed to help Pops in the fields. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.”

  “It was really nice seeing you, Jake. Thank you so much for coming.”

  “I will see you soon,” Jake promised with a smile.

  I watched Jake get into his truck and back out of the driveway. I stood up and took my stuff back inside the house. I put the blanket away then headed into the kitchen. I set the coffee cup in the sink and headed to the stairway.

  My arms erupted in goosebumps. I looked around the room. I didn’t see anyone. I walked to the window and looked outside. There was nothing there. Yet somehow, I knew that something was watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed hard.

  I walked away from the window, rubbing my arms. I headed upstairs to my room. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched even though I knew it was crazy. I couldn’t think of anyone that would be interested in me.

  As I went into my bedroom, I had the distinct impression I wasn’t alone.

  2

  I stood at my closet and stared at the clothes that were hanging there. The feeling that I was being watched had finally passed, but it still felt like I wasn’t alone. I glanced around the room and didn’t see anyone. I looked back into my closet. I needed to hurry up and get dressed. I had things that needed to be done. I had an appointment with the therapist that the doctor had recommended I see after the incident. I picked out a pink flowing shirt. It was my mother’s favorite shirt of mine. She would constantly tell me she wanted me to wear it more. I smiled at the memories as I put the shirt on.

  Once I was dressed, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. I was surprised by my appearance. I realized with enough make-up on, it was hard to tell that I wasn’t sleeping and losing weight rapidly. I brushed out my hair and then pulled it up into a messy bun. I didn’t want to have to deal with it getting in my face. A
fter putting on my final touches, I turned to head out of the room.

  As I was walking to the door, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman standing by the side of my bed. I turned quickly towards the bed, but no one was there. I rushed over and looked under the bed. Nothing. I opened the closet. There wasn’t anything there either. I checked the window, which was closed and latched. I frowned as I glanced around the room.

  I turned towards the mirror as I headed to my door again. In the mirror, I saw the woman standing by the bed again. I turned back, but no one was there. I shook my head and rushed out of the room. I pulled the door closed firmly behind me.

  ***

  I was sitting in the office of the therapist that the hospital had mandated I see in order to deal with the trauma of my parents’ deaths. I was mindlessly flipping through a magazine that had been sitting on the table while I was waiting. I wasn’t seeing the pages of the magazine, however. I was thinking about what I had seen as I was leaving my room.

  I could swear that I had seen a woman standing by my bed. That woman looked a lot like my mother. In fact, for a heartbeat, I had thought that my mother was standing there looking at me. My heart had hurt when I realized that no one was there. I decided I wasn’t going to mention the little episode to the therapist or anyone else for that matter. They already thought I was traumatized from what I had experienced, they did not need to think I was crazy on top of it.

  I was starting to think I was crazy. It had to be my imagination. There was obviously no one else was in the room when I turned around. The room was empty. Hell, the house had been empty except for me since the incident.

  After my third time flipping through the magazine, the door to the therapist’s office opened and an older, stout man walked out. He was balding, he had a prominent nose, and his eyes were a dull grey. He was ordinary. In my mind, I figured that he would make a good assassin since he was so non-descript. No one would notice him in the usual comings and goings of any neighborhood. He was wearing brown loafers, loose fitting khaki pants, and a white button-up shirt underneath a green sweater vest. He smiled at me and said, “Ms Cooper if you would come with me.”