BARE HUNTER

When I got home, I checked the invisible tape on the front and back doors before entering. No one had messed with my apartment while I was gone. The first time in days I didn’t need to overload meds to fall asleep. I chugged a liter of OJ, brushed my teeth, and passed out, exhausted from the day.

At 3 AM, I woke up sweating and crying out in my sleep after a nightmare that was so real I could swear I heard the voices. One was all too familiar:

“What do you want?”

“We want you, piggy. Thank you for taking your clothes off for us. We prefer a naked chase. Now, we aren’t monsters, so if you do what you’re told, we’ll let you go,”

“No, you won’t. You’ll do what you want and then kill me. But you’ll have to scrape all your skin out of my fingernails because I’m taking your DNA with me when I go,”

“Oooh. Teddy, you picked a sassy one. I like her. Let’s keep her alive for a while,”

“Roll over on your hands and knees, bitch. Now, stick your ass into the air for us. That’s a good girl.”

I could hear crying and muffled screaming piercing the air around me as I swam in the darkness of someone else’s nightmare. Every time I tried to open my eyes or get out of bed to run to her aid, my limbs felt numb, and I couldn’t help her.

“Take it easy, little piggy. It’ll be easier if you relax and go along with it.”

I heard the chilling exchange, with Becca sobbing in the background and begging them to stop. In my head, I called out to her, “I’m coming, Becca, I’ll save you!” But my body refused to leave the comfort of my bed to rescue her, and I lolled back to a fitful sleep to the sounds of a sickening, crunching noise and a garbled squeal that faded away. I tossed and turned until my alarm rang in the morning.

-thursday-

God, what a terrible night’s sleep. It was so real that I almost called Becca, to make sure she was okay. But she would think I was stalking her, and I didn’t want to feel like a sentimental shmuck. I packed a few migraine meds and a Zoloft into my pants pocket before leaving for work. I was going to need them both today. I could feel it.

The traffic was heavy, and the thunderstorm wasn’t helping. My wipers were swishing as fast as they could and just barely cleared the windshield before it was covered again. Some jerk in an old, beat-up truck was tailgating, and when I stopped at a red light, his vehicle banged into my SUV with a jolt.

“Son of a bitch!” I cried out. Thankfully, my airbags hadn’t gone off. I pulled ahead after the light changed and found a place to stop at the side of the road.

The driver of the pickup truck followed me and approached my window, motioning me to roll it down. “Hey, man. I apologize. Totally my fault. It’s so damned hard to see in this fucking rain. Look, my insurance isn’t air-tight at the moment. Can I give you a couple hundred in cash to cover the damages? I got $700. Will that pay for it?”

I didn’t see the point in arguing with him, as he was getting drenched and seemed sincere. “Yeah, sure. That’s more than enough, probably. Can I get your information in case it’s more?” That’s when his friendly sincerity ended.

“Take it or leave it, pal,” he said coldly, pulling his wallet back out to put the money away.

“Jeez. Okay, then. Have a nice day,” I replied, pocketing the cash. What an asshole.

Something creepy about that exchange was floating around in my head. His attitude? His voice? Something.