Dream Haunter
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adam turns from the wildly inappropriate painting to see a silver Honda shoot out of the parking lot, its wheels squealing as it turns onto the main road.
He scans the crowd for Melody as he pushes past people to the back of the store. He storms into the women’s bathroom.
“Melody! Melody?” Adam shouts.
He pushes the stall doors open; they slam against the inside of the stall and echo against the tiled walls. He reaches the last stall, throwing his fist into the cracked tile wall, he realizing she’s gone.
He bursts out of the bathroom, pushing over clothing stands as he runs to the nearest officer.
“Who took her?” Adam shouts.
The officer scratches his head, a thin, strawberry haired woman sits at the booth where the officer has been nibbling on a piece of cake. “Please, sir, calm down. What makes you think someone would take your girlfriend?” the officer asks.
“My girlfriend went to the bathroom a half hour ago and is now nowhere to be found. What would be the first thought in your head when you can’t find your girlfriend at this hippie garage sale?” Adam fumes.
The officer rolls his eyes, pulling a pen and paper out of his pocket. “What’s her name?” he asks as he lets out a huff of air.
“Melody Vernon. I also believe I may know the person that did this.”
The officer sighs. “And who’s that, sir?”
Adam clinches his fists at his side. “Samuel Winters.”
The man nods, brushing the white and yellow frosting from the corner of his mouth as he scribbles Sam’s name on his notebook. “I’ll send word of a suspected ‘kidnapping’.”
Adam stares at the officer for a while before turning around and storming back to his black Toyota.
“Why do they want to hurt me so badly? If they would just do what I say I wouldn't have to injure Melody or Sam,” he thinks to himself as he speeds down the road to Melody’s apartment.
………………………………
Adam struts down the hall, rifling through his pocket for the pick and tension wrench attached to his keychain. He shoves them into the keyhole, jiggling just a little before it makes a clicking noise and opens. He smiles to himself. He’s been picking locks for as long as he can remember; he could do it with his eyes closed if he wanted to.
He slips into her apartment, flicking the lights on as he makes his way through her living room.
“Melooodddyyyy, you better not be hiding from me,” he calls out as he peeks in her room. “You should know better than that.”
Enraged, He flips her vanity over. Perfume, lipstick, and hair ties scatter the brown and purple woven rug, the pink wood of the vanity crushing each item.
Adam cracks his knuckles, calming himself down, as he walks through her living room, flipping the arm chair over before making his way back out to the street curb.
……………………………….
“GAHHHH!!!” Adam screams as he throws himself into the red painted wall in the hallway next to his bedroom. He stares at the white mark where his head rammed into the wall, his temple throbbing as he turns around, pressing his back against the wall before sliding down the wall on his back.
“I'm so confused…” he whimpers.
He holds his face in his hands, biting the inside of his palm, sending a quick jolt of pain to block out his murderous thoughts. “Why do they choose to hurt me like this?”
A chilling, yet comforting, feeling falls upon Jet like a heavy blanket. Cold, slinky, hands slide across his shoulders.
“What are you going to do about it, Adam?” the voice breathes.
Adam looks at his side. A beautiful woman slinks her hand around his neck, running the back of her nails across his skin. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“H-how’d you get in here? And why are you calling me ‘Adam’? I-I'm Jet…” Jet stutters, trying to fight free of Adam.
She pulls herself into his lap, running a polished red nail down his cheek. “You let me in, Adam.”
Jet fights the urge to throw her from his lap, but her flesh is just too tempting
“I don’t remember opening the door… but…”
She kisses him, draping her arms down the back of his shirt, her nails cutting through his gray shirt as she drags them up his spine.
Icy shivers shoot up and down his nervous system, coolness flows through his veins as a sudden hardening feeling hit his heart. Suddenly he doesn’t feel incapable; he can do anything.
He opens his eyes, a wicked smirk spreading across his lips. He cracks his neck, pushing the smooth, slinky legs off his lap before swaggering out of his apartment.
He slips the key in the ignition of his black Honda S2000, revving the engine a few times before speeding down the interstate. Destination: Wherever Sam and Melody go.