Marked for Vengeance by S.J. Pierce Page A

*
    Midnight came
swiftly, and as the next ‘flip your house for profit’ show came on, Alyx fought
against her heavy eyelids to keep them open. She clicked the power button on
the remote and slipped into her crisp, white sheets.
    She drifted into
the darkness, and the dream from the night before replayed through her mind. The
elegant, Eighteenth-Century couple descended down the stairs and made their way
to the horse drawn carriage below. With the looking glass held to her eye, she
focused on the bearded man’s left hand that gripped his cane. A chunky gold
ring with a unique engraving of an eagle flying in front of a bare tree encircled
his ring finger.
    She lowered the
looking glass and watched as he hobbled over the cobblestone walkway, extending
his hand to assist his date into the carriage. The dream faded into a quiet
slumber, and she didn’t wake until seven thirty the next morning.
    *
* *
    Sometime within
the darkest depths of night, a blood curdling scream rolled from Micah’s loft
upstairs. Isaac startled awake and was halfway up the metal staircase before he
realized it. By the time he reached the top, Micah lay flat against the wall,
staring wide-eyed into the center of the room.
    Isaac ran to his
side. “It’s ok, buddy,” he said as he pulled him close, “what’s wrong?”
    Micah clinched
his teeth to fight back a wail.
    “Tell me what
happened. Did you have one of your dreams again?” Please God , when
will he grow out of these?
    His hands
covered his face, and the cry finally broke through.
    “It’s alright. You’re
goin’ to be fine, down the stairs with you now.”
    They walked side
by side down the staircase, and Isaac flipped the living room lights on. “Go
sit over there on my bed,” he said as he hurried toward the kitchen. “I’ll get
you a glass of water.”
    Micah sat on the
edge of the sofa bed, wiping the tears from his face. Isaac placed a glass
under the running water. “You can sleep in my bed tonight if you want to,” he
said as he waited for the glass to fill. The sofa bed was actually too small
for them to share now because Micah had grown considerably within the past
year, but he didn’t mind being uncomfortable if it meant his son felt safe.
    “I’m ok. I just…
I was really scared. It looked so real this time,” he sniffled. 
    He turned the
faucet off and hustled carefully back to his son so not to spill. “Tis enough
of the cryin’,” he said and sat on the bed beside him while handing him the
drink. “I know it was scary.”
    His son’s
unsteady hand shook the water in the glass as he brought it to his lips, his
troubled face admitting what his words would not – he wasn’t ok .   “What
did you see?” Isaac asked, concerned over what would frighten him so badly.
    Micah swallowed
and sat the glass on his leg. “The same things I’d been seeing since I was
little. He was like a shadow man, but this one was a different. He was bigger
and angrier.”
    “You know it was
just a dream, right?”
    “I guess so,” he
replied and took another small sip. “But this one seemed a little different.
Usually, I’ll dream that I wake up, and they’re staring at me, like they expect
me to see them. This one was wandering the house. I followed him with my eyes
for what felt like forever when he made his way to my room, and when he did I
told him to get out, that he needed to go away.
    The terror Micah
relived as he recalled his nightmare chilled Isaac to his bones. He hadn’t seen
him this frightened in a long time.
    “When I
whispered for him to leave, he spun around and darted toward me,” he said, his
eyes widening again, “he swatted at me, like he was trying to hurt me. But he
couldn’t get to me, and that’s when I screamed!”
    Isaac stared at
the floor to let it all sink in. Even in a dream, that would be terrifying. Weird dreams definitely run in the family. “At what point did you jump out
of the bed?” he asked, looking back at his son.
    Micah