CHAPTER ONE
In her world only two types of people existed. Prey and predator, and she had long ago abandoned the world of prey.
Timing was everything and organizing each detail had taken longer than she thought, but with patience she found her prey.
She watched him, as she had for the past nine months, hobble up the stairs to his room. He had chosen the room because of its convenience to the door which made carrying books and maneuvering crutches less difficult. His cerebral palsy only made things less troublesome.
After all, survival was for the fittest, the weak were here to serve the strong. It had taken all of her patience to find the right place, the right prey, and now was the right time.
The right place was Serenity, Alabama and it was proving to be the perfect hunting ground. There was a Mayberry feel to the town, and most of its residents did not bother locking their doors at night.
Everyone gathered at the local coffee shop to gossip about marriages, babies or the influx of new college kids. The small town for which the college was named had long since become accustomed to seeing words as well as hearing them.
The right prey was just another lost soul pretending to belong. At one time she could have felt a kinship with him, but now the thought of being one with his kind left her empty.
Her hunting skills honed in on his habits. She knew he left his door open so he could see other students as they passed by, inviting them in for a quick video game or movie. If his door was opened, all were welcome; if closed, and it would be tonight, no visitors allowed.
He was popular, and that made the quest more thrilling, people would miss this boy.
She would need to be quick with her kill, if someone passed by and heard…she laughed, no one here would hear anything and just as quickly as the smiled appeared it vanished.
Was this an oversight in her perfect plan? If after all she had failed to realize that no one in a school for the deaf would hear struggling in a dorm, could she have overlooked some other detail? Her meticulous mind began to repeat each precaution, each detail of the kill.
There were no flaws.
With little movement she slid down the side of the wall in the dormitory, and into his room.
At this hour most of the students had settled in for the night. She slipped in, unnoticed behind him and inserted the ice pick in his liver; stepping in front of him while he was still off balanced; she inserted it in his neck at the jugular, one last blow to his temple.
She positioned herself so she could remain in front of the closed door and watched as his blood continued to flow from his neck and other wounds.
He flopped around like a fish out of water.
The hands that so effortlessly cut through the air to communicate with the world now grasped the throat that pumped blood from between fingers desperately trying to keep the life-force in.
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Delia woke with the all too familiar feeling of her heart racing. The nightmare began the minute she drifted off to sleep.
She gently patted the black and tan head that whimpered softly at her beside. Her restlessness had awakened the big 180 pound Rottweiler from her spot at Delia’s bedside. She allowed her eyes to adjust to the rooms’ darkness and sat up.
Katie whimpered again.
“It’s okay girl.” Delia soothed her pet. “It was just another bad dream.” The sun was just beginning to change the darkness outside to the early morning gray of pre-dawn, and she had already began the day with a lie.
Katie placed a paw on the bed. She would never jump onto the bed unless invited. The huge animal was a loyal and gentle companion, but more importantly Katie was her family.
She reached for the bottled water by her bedside and took a big gulp. It was almost 5:00 a.m. and no need to try and return to sleep. She’d learned long ago to survive on as little sleep as possible. Sleep was not the restful repose for her that it was for most.
She headed for the kitchen, Katie falling in behind her; the tapping of her nails against the hardwood floor was comforting
She began to make coffee.
Her heart returning to a more normal rythmn. Delia made a mental note to check the medicine cabinet and her supply of Imitrex. The awful dream would leave its mark on her physically as well as torment her emotionally.
Delia didn’t wait for the entire pot to finish brewing. She poured a half a cup and made her way to the back of the house. Katie went on her usual morning patrol to sniff and find whatever creatures visited the property during the night, and left her to untangle her thoughts.
She gripped the hot cup tighter, trying to squeeze what warmth she could from it, hoping to ease the icy chill that had set up residence inside her.
The morning paper would no doubt carry the story, leaving out the details that only Delia and the police knew. She closed her eyes and saw the yellow and black tape across the door to the young man's room. She pushed through the tape and stood looking down at him.
His hands were bloody and wrapped around his throat; a pool of thick blood lay beneath his head.
She felt it before a rational thought could form around it, the taunting of the evil voice in her head. You killed him, it reminded her.
She shook her head; Michael would be calling, but not right away. The police would want to evaluate the evidence they had, first.
Evidence to put you away, it taunted. Again she silenced the unpleasant voice and focused on Michael.
Delia saw Michael. There was someone with him, someone strong and a presence that filled her with apprehension.
Michael was bent over the young man. The strong presence was talking to him. He made some notes in a small notepad. Delia tried to follow him but his image faded as he began to move about the room.
She smiled as she thought of Michael. They had been classmates growing up in the small town of Serenity. For Delia classmates were as close as she was allowed to having friends. Alyson Andrews would never allow anything normal in their home.
She had learned to adapt anyway. While other girls her age were playing make believe with dolls, she pretended that her life was normal. It was second nature now, and although her life had somehow emulated the life she wanted, Delia knew normal was something she could never have.
It wasn’t until college that she had actually been brave enough to reach out to someone and that someone was Michael. They met while out running and the two had immediately become friends. He had been so easy-going and relaxed, but it was more than his laid-back, casual attitude that attracted her.
Michael was the heartthrob of every female student at the University. His tall, athletic body looked as if it had been chiseled in stone first, and his deep green eye’s and brown curly hair gave him an angelic look that melted every woman’s heart the minute they met him. Even his female professor’s had a hard time saying no to Michael Teel.
It had taken several months, but eventually she allowed herself the luxury of a friend. For four wonderful years she and Michael discussed races and gear and what classes to take and which professors to avoid.
For Delia it had been like all her daydreams as a child coming true. Michael had brought out a happier side to her normally withdrawn personality.
Her hands were warm now. Delia blew a kiss on the wind that had found its way up from the small pond on the backside of her property. In her mind she wished it to the small room and Michael.
Michael had graduated with a degree in criminal justice, instead of the law degree his father had wanted.
She had decided so long ago that she couldn’t remember when but she definitely wanted to work with children. She needed to show them all the love that she had never received.
Delia had been at a race in Mobile and was gathering her belongings while absently listening to the loudspeaker give the results.
“Coming in third, Michael Teel.”
It hadn’t taken long for her to find him. Michael Teel never came in third in his life. Delia knew something was wrong.
When she found him, she knew. He looked as if he had not had enough sleep, or enough protein and his electrolytes were low.
“Michael?” She sat down beside him.
“Hey, Dee. Guess you heard?” He nodded in the direction of the MC.
“You look awful.” She replied.
“Thanks.”
Delia knew he hadn’t taken it as an insult. “What’s wrong?”
“You know I can’t talk about a case, even with you.” He had answered.
Delia nodded.
For awhile neither of them spoke. The race had been near the beach and they both just sat and enjoyed the surf against the sand for a moment.
In her entire life, Delia had never reached for the evil that was inside her. She had always just accepted it.
That day had been different. She didn’t know exactly what made it so different, but it was.
She reached inside, and touched it.
“Michael, there were two. One who took her and one who killed her.”
Michael stared at her with such force, Delia knew he would never be her friend again.
“What?”
“I don’t quite know how to explain it. Two weeks ago when Hanna went missing I had a dream. I saw her Michael.”
Michael had stood then. He began a fast, short pace in front of her.
“What do you mean you had a dream and saw her? Delia, what do you know about this?”
“I’ve always had these dreams, Michael. Alyson said they were evil and from the devil. I’ve never told a living soul about them. They don’t happen all the time, just once in awhile.
“When the little girl went missing I dreamed about her. She had a heart condition and that made it easier for...”
Michael had pulled her away from the crowd of well wishers and racers. They were in his truck.
“For what, Dee?”
She had relaxed then. Michael was the only person she’d ever known to care about her enough to give her a nickname.
“I don’t know. It’s jumbled and confusing.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He had answered.
Somehow Delia had explained what she had seen that awful night and the miracle of it all was that Michael believed her.
It was Michael that explained her disease.
“Dee, I think you might be psychic.”
