FIRST FEW PAGES
Lance Stiller was dressed in his usual attire of a number twelve jersey; and blue jeans. He looked younger than his age of forty, with light brown eyes; short black hair. Lance lived in a town called Wolf Creek; just outside of Pennsylvania. A place he called home for the past four years as an established author; he loved the view of the mountains when he walked outside the back door.
Lance began his day one brisk cold Saturday, morning. He was looking through some old boxes; he began to sniffle as particles of dust had formed on top of the lids activating his allergies.
He opened an unmarked box with an unusual scent seeping into the cold damp room. A light from an oil lamp lit up the basement. The room was filled with antiques, comic books and just about any old rusted Lawn tool.
He ripped away the heavy tape, that kind you use to wrap electrical cords. There was a perfumed filled bottle giving off a strong jasmine scent; along with novels; and letters; he hated that sweet smell. There was a black book lying underneath the bottle which grabbed his attention.
No title on the cover; just a thick book full of pages. He read the first few lines; the look on his face you just knew he was interested. Lance slammed the book closed and left the open box on top of the table. He walked quickly up the stairs, towards the kitchen. He was surely having a caffeine craving.
The basement door was in the hallway, it shut behind him as he walked across the tan carpet, into the kitchen covering the wooden floor.
Lance put on a hot pot of coffee, sat down at the table; and began to indulge in his new hardcover book. Several minutes passed and the house reeked of fresh smelling java. He jumped up and grabbed a tall mug out of the kitchen cabinet filling it halfway. With the book still on the table, and his steamy cup of liquid in his hand the doorbell rang.
Lance placed his coffee on the table; he ambled to the door snatching the keys of the hook hanging on the wall in the hallway. “Hold your Horses.” Lance shouted. Elizabeth Weldon a tall normal size woman with short black hair stood outside. She wore grey pants and a white jacket. “Hey its cold out hear.” Elizabeth answered loudly.
He opened the door, “Don’t you ever work?” Lance said smartly. “We have a lunch date remember.” Elizabeth reminded him. “The way you knocked on the door; I thought it was the police.” Lance said jokingly.” Elizabeth an unemployed librarian; met Lance at the local library while he did research for a novel.
He went back inside switched off the coffee pot, and grabbed his book. It was just after the noon time hour; when the two backed out of the narrow driveway on thirteen Gale Drive. Lance bobbed his head after Elizabeth turned on the radio to the local country station. The sun had a bright afternoon glow; He happened to have his new dark shades sitting on his head. Elizabeth pulled into a gravel lot next to Abby’s diner on Glover’s Street; it was a small red brick building; sitting next to the corner market.
There were other busy shops across the street; Elizabeth spotted an antique shop with a bright flickering sign which read: open hanging in the window.
”Hey I’ll meet you inside.” Elizabeth said, grabbing her purse from the back seat. Lance went inside and sat in the rear of the diner. The rumbling sounds he heard came from the pit of his gut.
The smell of broiled hamburgers filled the joint; dishes rattled behind the steel doors, an old fashion juke box played soft jazz. A man sat a table over; he placed his yellow hard hat on the empty chair. “Well this might be my last day.” The man said; putting sugar in his coffee. “Are you retiring?” Lance said; with his hands clasped together on top of the table. “No the word out around the plant is that corporate; is starting layoffs off a hundred workers.” The man said; in a heavy voice.
A tall black haired waitress holding a writing pad approached Lance. She had an extinct northerner accent. “So what can I get you?” said the Waitress.
Lance scanned the front but no Elizabeth. “I’m just going to wait for my friend.” Lance said looking at the menu.
“Ok sugar I’ll be back.” The waitress said. Minutes later Elizabeth came waltzing in as if she had found ten bucks.
She had a smile that could light up the room. “What did they sell you a diamond?” Lance said. “Look at this, it was only a dollar.” Elizabeth boasted.
Lance reached over the table, into the plastic bag. “What is this?” Lance asked staring at the odd object. “It’s a ring dummy.” Elizabeth said.
Lance looked over the unusual piece of jewelry. “Great can we order now?” Lance mumbled, looking at the menu. After a short lunch, the two friends got into the car, and drove back home as they headed back; Lance pointed at the new library which was almost finished. “I’m tired of working inside; traveling is what I want to do.”
Elizabeth said; pressing cautiously on the breaks; waiting for the light to turn green.
As Elizabeth pulled into the driveway; Lance grabbed his book. Thanks for lunch.” Lance said. “Sure! Same time tomorrow.” Elizabeth asked. “I have too much work; so I’ll be tied up all day.” Lance said; holding the door open. Elizabeth acknowledged his answer and drove off. Lance remembered he was supposed to call his parents after letting himself into the house. At two o’clock pm. He grabbed the receiver on the wall phone in the kitchen, dialed the number and waited but no answer.
He left a message with the answering service; and hung up. Lance walked into the next room; his eye lids grew heavy; so he crashed on the sofa in the living room.
The evening air took on a chilly feel, with dark scary clouds taking shape. In town the people walked with urgency; as an unexpected storm threatened Wolf Creek. The birds formed a line, and started to fly southward; a steady cold wind picked up strength; blowing hats of the people coming out of the market.
There was a slender man, holding a package; walking out of the post office, “Looks like bad weather.” The man said, looking up at the black sky.
Meanwhile, Lance could not fall asleep; instead he got up; went downstairs turned on the television and got a soft drink from the fridge. He picked up the remote flipping through all the cable channels; nothing interested him; so he clicked off the television; and went into his office.
Lance started reading the book he found in the basement. There were hundreds of novels neatly lined on the black bookshelf. An old green recliner sat in the corner; trophies from writing contests rested on the mantle over the marbled fireplace.
He read late into the midnight hour. The winds howled rain drops pelted the roof; while Lance finally drifted off; sitting in the chair. He jumped up because there was a knock at the door. Thump! Thump! The loud pounding sound continued. “Who could that be at this time of night. “This better be important.” Lance shouted, trying to focus as he got up. He opened the door, no one was outside. He mumbled to himself, “Who could this be?” he only noticed the black dog after he came out from behind the car in the driveway. “Get out of here.” He shouted waving his hand in the air. The animal stood there for a minute and disappeared behind the house across the road. He knew that the animal did not knocked; he thought it was some kid playing a joke. After Lance had shut the door a crazy looking man dressed in black clothes appeared out of the darkness near the neighbor’s car under the porch. The odd looking man; smiled showed off two long sharp teeth; protruding out of his mouth. At two a.m. and when the world resembles a ghost town; where the streets are completely bare nothing seems to stir except grave yard shift workers. Three more corpses had been discovered within the last few hours. It was a nightmare for emergency workers in town; keeping them on a high alert. Police could only cover so much of Wolf Creek; with limited officers.
Soon they would call for outside help. Lance tossed and turned with his pillow drenched with sweat; he was having his usual nightmare.
Two days had passed, and Lance had written two whole chapters it was a cold Tuesday; October morning. After eating breakfast, he sat down at the kitchen table, looking through the morning paper.
He was about to turn the page when he heard a knock at the door. It was Mr. Louis a retired policeman; who had joined Lance’s reading group a few months ago. He was dressed in black slacks; and a brown sweater. He had a long white beard and chubby cheeks; he was just a little on the heavy side; but he liked Lance as if he was his own son.
“Hello My boy.” Mr. Louis said; after Lance opened the door. “Hi Mr. Louis, come in.” Lance said holding the door open. “Did you finish your book?” Mr. Louis asked.
“No I hit a wall.” Lance replied walking into the kitchen. “Even the best authors hit a snag.” Mr. Louis said; sitting across from Lance; at the table. Mr. Louis had brought some horrible news about one of the students from the reading group. “Cindy was found this morning.” Mr. Louis said; in a low sad voice.
“What do you mean; has she been missing.” Lance asked, getting up to put on a pot of coffee. “No my Boy; she was murdered outside her home near the garage.” Mr. Louis said; picking up the newspaper of the table.
“No!” Lance said shockingly; sitting back down. “Read this.” Mr. Louis said; turning to a small article on the second page. “It says that they arrested her boyfriend.” Lance said; angrily. “It’s a shame to see young couples feuding.” Mr. Louis commented; Lance got up and offered him a cup of coffee. The two men talked until, the sun briefly peeked from behind the grey clouds. It became a sad visit; than a happy one; but Mr. Louis promised he would be back; that he was going through some marital problems. Mr. Louis soon left Lance took the time to go to the market. He switched off the coffee pot, grabbed his keys; and got into his car. Lance backed out of his narrow drive way, Mrs. Curry, next door was standing outside, she was an old woman, always wearing that ugly brown straw hat, and flowered dress.
She waved as Lance started to drive away. He was in such a hurry that he did not see Mrs. Curry waving at him. Lance drove into town to the farmers market; it was an old brick building. With bananas, and apples; juicy peaches sitting outside in a straw basket and other fresh fruit.
Lance pulled over near the curb in front of the market. He got out of the car, a tall black haired man stood on the corner he was dressed in blue working pants with a matching shirt; black steel toe shoes. He had a thin face; and smelled of gasoline; oil all mixed into one scent.
“Dear sir can I offer you some advice?” The strange man asked with quite a proper accent “Advice?” Lance answered; walking slowly away from the man. “Your friend bought a ring, did she not?”
The stranger said. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Lance replied; pausing near the front door picking up a few apples; and placing them inside a plastic bag.
“Sir that ring is evil.” The stranger insisted standing next to Lance while his gaze was directly towards the oranges. Lance turned, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about; please leave me alone.” Lance said, angrily opening the door. “Watch for the signs of strange happenings” The man said, as he walked away.
Later that evening back inside of Lance’s home, he picked up his cell phone off the kitchen table; he called Elizabeth; leaving numerous messages. It wasn’t like her not to be home at this time; are not even answer her cell phone.
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Just before three a.m. there was a light knock at the door. Pete jumped; up on all fours; he made a loud deafening growl. “What is it boy.” Munson said standing up. The dog ran to the front door; barking as if someone was trying to break in. “Lance put his cell phone in his pocket.
Walking at a fast pace; he could not wait to tell Mr. Louis about the new discovery. He opened the door without hesitation. Pete was growling like a mad dog. “Can you please calm that beast?” Lance said; stepping outside into deep wet snow. Lance saw something so horrible. It was a pale young lady; she had long silver hair; and ruby red lips. Her feet barely touched the top of the snow. She also wore a long white see-through gown; the woman just stood at the end of the driveway.
Lance called out to her. “Are you ok?” lance yelled; standing by the door. Munson snatched lance by the arm. “Get in here; that’s the same woman from the news.” Munson explained; slamming the door shut; he ran to the back securing the back entrance; while switching on every light in the house. “Did she do something wrong.” Lance asked looking through the window in the living room. “No stupid; she’s a vampire.’ Munson tried to explain in simple words. Lance couldn’t believe it; he watched the woman just standing there in the freezing cold half necked. He closed the white blinds; “why is she here?” Munson said; turning toward Munson as he flicked on the lamp sitting on the table, near the television.
‘I believe it knows we are trying to stop old Van Hume.” Munson said. Lance took another quick glance outside. “She’s gone.” Lance told Munson; who took a look at his watch. “Sunrise; they can’t survive during the day.” Munson said.
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