Electra Rose
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A Girl Has To Eat Part 3
🕑 Added 2021-09-30 10:41:54 +0000 UTC3
Vanna didn’t get 20 miles before she had to stop to put gas in. She stopped her car as close to the building as possible and paused. She had a sick feeling in her stomach. She clenched her jaw.
‘Just go. Hesitating won’t help. Yeah, they’re probably following me. They might be watching me now. But they might be behind, too. I have to keep moving and keep around people.’
She filled her tank all the way and then paid inside, grabbing bottles of water and a cold sandwich. By reflex she reached to drop the receipt in the garbage inside, and then paused. She took the receipt with her when she left, and crumpled it in her hand.
As she left the store, Vanna felt a flash of rebellion. She sneered into the night, at whoever was taunting her. ‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she thought. And then she repeated it out loud. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Defiant, she dropped the receipt onto the ground. She instantly felt guilty because that was littering, but she kept her stride and got into her car. As she started it, she heard guttural laughter.
Vanna gritted her teeth. She didn’t look towards the sound, because she was sure she’d see nothing. She lifted her left hand in a middle finger salute and left the parking lot.
“It’s just some asshole,” she told herself over the sound of the engine. “Fuck that. Fuck them! I’m not going to be stupid but I’m not going to let them hunt me. God.”
She plugged her phone in with one hand and scrolled through her music, selecting something loud and raucous. Vanna sang until her throat was sore. She would have driven all 10 hours home like that except that it suddenly occurred to her that it was 2 in the morning and her parents would think she was an intruder.
With a sigh, she turned off the music and searched up hotels. She didn’t bother to pull over, because whoever was following her would probably stand around and throw her old receipts at her from a tree, or maybe howl ominously, like the total lunatic that they were. The first hotel that she called had no one at reception. The second phone was answered by a male voice, which was a little reassuring in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge. Creepy men were more deterred by other men.
She made a reservation and set her GPS. After about 15 minutes, she parked out front of her hotel. Even at night it was well- lit and she could see they had cameras. She hefted her backpack and went in.
No one was within sight, so she rang the little bell. After a moment, the same voice she’d heard on the phone called out. A middle aged man in a slightly wrinkled white shirt bustled out, still putting his phone in his pants pocket.
“Good evening. How can I help you?” He settled behind the counter.
“Hi, I have a reservation.”
The man behind the counter clacked on the keyboard for a moment. “Vanna Bo-“
“Yes, that’s me,” she cut him off. “Is cash okay, or should I pay by card?”
He eyed her a little strangely. “Card would be best.”
She mentally sighed. Her debit was empty and she hated using the credit card. She’d just gotten that paid off. Still, she dug it out and handed it over.
“I would like a room on a higher floor,” Vanna said, suddenly remembering.
The night auditor hummed in acknowledgement. “Just a moment, I will see what we have available.” Keys clacked rapidly. “I have a room on the 6th floor.”
“That’s great, thank you.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
“Alright. Here you are, the number is on your keycard.” He handed over her room key and the regular spiel about their continental breakfast and gym hours. She took her card back and thanked him before lugging herself to the room, 115 dollars poorer. Vanna looked at the elevator as she passed. Normally she would take the elevator up 5 flights of stairs, but it seemed like a trap right now. She forced herself up the stairs with aching legs.
As soon as she got in, she checked around the room. She closed the curtains, checked all the locks to the windows and double locked the food, and then had a nice hot bath. Try as she might, she did not feel relaxed. She changed in the bathroom, as if she thought someone might be waiting for her in the hotel room. There was no one, of course.
Her body was tired enough that she wanted to sleep. But honestly?
“I’m not gonna sleep,” she muttered to herself. She flopped down on the bed and turned on the TV.
This late at night, options were limited. She dismissed the channel selling weird products out of hand. There were things worse than fear. There was a nature documentary about ants, which she passed. Then there was a docuseries about women who were violently murdered, so she went back a channel to learn about ants.
“The queen can live up to 30 years,” said a curly-haired scientist or something.
Vanna sat up straight, frowning. “An ant lives 30 years?” she asked the T.V. “That does not sound right. Do all queen ants?”
The T.V. went on, but didn’t address that specific question. She scowled and learned about ants.
She didn’t remember falling asleep. But she knew that she was waking up groggily. Vanna blinked. The T.V. was showing a tropical bird that she couldn’t identify. She squinted at it. It quickly changed scenes to show a few people in a wooden paneled room. They began talking about someone whose name she didn’t recognize.
Tap, tap-tap.
Vanna jolted. She had to purposefully relax her right leg because she had tensed it to the point of hurting in the socket. Her heart pounded.
Tap tap.
She didn’t breathe. She didn’t move.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Slowly, she turned her head. “No way,” she said, barely a whisper. “No fucking way.”
She was on the 6th floor.
‘Was there a balcony that I didn’t notice? No, it’s just a window, not a door. Is there a fire escape outside or something?’
Vanna did not want to look. She did not want to believe it.
The tap came again. It was quieter this time. Gentle. Insistent.
Vanna gritted her teeth and she stood. She strode the few feet across the room to fling open the curtains and scowl at the weirdo who had been toying with her.
The face that she saw was familiar. The light inside of the eyes was not.
In the pit of her stomach, Vanna somehow knew that she had made a horrible miscalculation. She wasn’t dealing with a stalker.
The body that had once belonged to Andrea Whittman smiled at her. The thing inside tilted her head to the side to an angle that looked uncomfortable. As she watched, all 10 fingers gently lifted in a coordinated tap.
Vanna shut the curtains violently. She stood frozen for a moment, immobile. She didn’t know what this thing was. She didn’t know how to survive it.
“It can break that glass. I could break that glass. Move!’
She grabbed her backpack and burst out the door, struggling with the chain lock for a moment before making it into the hallway. Her intuition still said that the elevator was a death trap so she barreled down the stairs, hoping she didn’t fall and break her own neck. She cleared the final flight with a near stumble and ran out into the hall, toward the front desk.
The man wasn’t by the desk. She hit the bell and spun in a circle immediately, wildly scanning the lobby. She saw a shadow that made her scream. Belatedly she realized it was a chair. “Come on, come on,” she said, eyes darting back to the door behind the counter where the man had come before.
He didn’t call out. If there was a light on in the office, she couldn’t see it.
“Fuck,” she said, looking behind her and then to the parking lot.
‘It was on the back side of the building… My car is just out front. I can get there.’
She made a run for it, lungs aching with exertion. She leapt over the pavement divider and nearly fell. Her heart stopped in her chest.
“What?” She said, quietly to herself. Her hand reached back to the pocket on the top of her backpack unconsciously. Her key should have been in there.
But it couldn’t have been. Because if it was, her car would be waiting where she had left it. The parking lot wasn’t empty, by any means, but her car was definitely not there.
‘It planned for me to go here. Move!’
She jolted back towards the hotel and then remembered that the desk worker was gone. The only lights she saw were two street lamps between her and a well-lit gas station.
Vanna sprinted, arms pumping. She steered out of the middle of the parking lot, afraid of that thing jumping out at her from behind a car. A building attached to the hotel loomed out at her in the darkness. She didn’t alter course, breezing right past it.
At least, that was the plan.
Something hit her from the side with a force that knocked her air out. She didn’t have time to care about that, because she hit the side of the building with a white hot crack.
She was on the ground. Vanna blinked. She put her hands on the ground to steady herself and to get up and she screamed in surprised agony when her right arm gave out. She collapsed face-first onto the pavement. It was dark, but she could see…
“Something is wrong with my arm,” Vanna said, quiet, horrified. “What’s wrong with my arm?”
“It’s broken.”
She twisted to see that Andrea’s body was seated next to her, cross legged. The thing was resting Andrea’s chin on her soft little hands and leaning forward with interest.
‘That wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be,’ it said conversationally. ‘I was going to drag it out longer. I was going to start leaving you messages on your phone. I got a burner phone for this and I didn’t even get to use it.” The tone turned disappointed at the end.
“I’m sorry?” Vanna gasped out, reflexively polite and deeply preoccupied with the unprecedented pain she was in.
‘How did this happen?’
The thing snorted. “It’s not your fault.” It sighed gustily. “You’re just boring.” It reached up and patted something metal. Vanna realized that it was the side of a dumpster. “This is convenient, though. I don’t think I want your body. You’re not very fast.”
“My car?” She said, disoriented and upset. “How’d you get my keys?”
“Keys?” It repeated quietly.
“Yes, my keys,” Vanna insisted. “When did you take my keys?”
“Oh,” it said, in a tone of dawning realization. “I could have done that. No, no,” it corrected. “I picked up your car.”
“You stole my car,” Vanna said, because it seemed important. She felt scandalized. It wasn’t fair. “How was I supposed to be able to stop that?”
“...I think that you may not understand the point of this exercise,” the monster said. It honestly sounded pretty disappointed. “I didn’t strain my back for the sake of fairness. I’m going to have to go to a chiropractor because of you.”
“And you broke me,” Vanna said, a little indignant.
“Why not? You weren’t even moving fast before that,” it dismissed. “I don’t think your heart was really into this.”
“You sound like my gym teacher,” Vanna said, feeling that this conversation couldn’t possibly be happening. This wasn’t real.
“It’s real,” the thing said, sharpening in on her. “Don’t float away. I want your fear.”
“You’re crazy,” Vanna sobbed out, feeling that she was actually the crazy one. She must have said that aloud.
“No, no,” it said gently. It reached out to her. “I’m just hungry.”
She fought. Of course she did. She felt teeth that couldn’t possibly belong to Andrea pierce the side of her face.
And then she went away. She went sideways. She was in deep water, up to her shins. She took a step forward and it was to her knees.
She didn’t remember where she was. She didn’t remember what was happening.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered a caution. She remembered she’d gone to a flood preparedness center. She remembered that water up to your shins was enough to take you away. Moving water was stronger than any person.
She took a step back into shallower water. And then another and then she burst back into her body with strength that she shouldn’t have and she threw the thing on top of her. It hit the cement with a wet crack.
For a moment, Vanna thought, ‘I might survive this.’
“Oh,” the thing said. “That’s interesting.” It sat up.
