Have Mercy: Prologue & Ch. 1

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Anissa is plagued by strange visions.
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mayeliza
mayeliza
9 Followers

The silence seeped in slowly. It crawled inside, completely invading, until she was filled with it. A silence so complete that nothing, no one could get past. She never knew how it started or why. It just was. And in this silence, she saw. She saw the face of death, of terror. Images that seared themselves into her brain, images that screamed but were never heard. The silence came and she could not control it. She could no sooner will the frightening images out of her mind, than she could will them in. At odd moments, the silence would come and with it fear.

She remembered the first time the silence took over her. She had been ten, in her room with white walls and pink ruffles. A pampered little girl's room. A myriad of stuffed bears and animals were placed carefully on shelves and the cherished few carelessly on the floor. It was after midnight, the bear that started off wrapped tight in her arms now lay on the floor with it's friends. She was lying on the bed staring silently at the white ceiling. The carousal lamp casting a light orange glow on her face. She didn't remember why she woke up that night. She remembered the white ceiling and the images playing out inside her head. Silent images. She could not hear the ticking of the Bugs Bunny clock on the night stand, she could not hear the wheel of her hamster turning, she could not hear her own heavy breathing, and she could not hear the man screaming.

The image was tinged in red. Everything was covered in the color. The man's hands, his face, his clothes, the inside of his mouth. And the other one. The one that stood above him was in red as well. His blonde hair had a red halo around it, the leather jacket looked like it was dripping blood. She saw his teeth, much like a vampire's after a feast, when he opened his mouth in a silent laugh. The only other color visible in the image was silver. The silver of the blade of the knife as it sliced down towards the already silent man, over and over again. With wide unblinking gray eyes, she counted one, two, three...., as the knife rose and fell endlessly. The blonde man's mouth opened wide in laughter enjoying his work, for he did it well. And then those blue eyes, tinged in that red haze, turned and looked at her. She knew he saw her. The smile that spread across his face told her he did as well as any spoken word would have. He looked at her and winked.

"Our secret," he mouthed the words. She didn't know how but she understood him. Not what he had done, but the pleasure he took in it. Controlling someone else's life or death gave him power, intoxicating him. He smiled at her, looked straight at her, although she was completely alone in her room, and he had known that she could do nothing, because she, unlike him, was powerless. It was this sense that tore her mouth open, and she heard the first sound in over an hour. Her own scream.

CHAPTER ONE

Sixteen years later...

Anissa Alfaro sat behind a large counter on a very throne-like wooden chair with red velvet cushions, cradling a phone between her ear and her shoulder. A beautiful woman by any standards, she had almost flawless fair skin, straight black hair that fell right below her shoulders, and a body that made most people turn around for a second or a third look. Of all her attributes the one that drew the most attention were her eyes. They were gray, pale when she was relaxed and content, but they turned dark slate gray when she was angry, excited, or aroused. At the moment, her eyes were the pale gray, as she fought the urge to roll them at the person on the other end of the phone.

"Yes, Mr. Stevens, I do have an original copy of that title," resisting the urge to sigh, Anissa spoke calmly into the phone. "Yes, sir, it is very rare. I'm glad I could be of assistance, if you'll let me transfer you to the shipping department they'll take down all your information and make sure the book is delivered to you as quickly as possible."

She listened to the phone as Mr. Stevens spoke about his worries involved in shipping such an expensive and rare book. "Don't worry, sir. We'll take all the precautions necessary so that nothing happens to the merchandise during shipping, and if by some unfortunate accident something were to happen, we would gladly give you credit back on your card."

Having waylaid some of Mr. Stevens' fears, Anissa transferred the call to the shipping department. Which was nothing more than her best friend, George, a credit card machine, and a personal computer hooked up to the Internet, in a small cramped office that also served as a storage room. While George dealt with the rest of Mr. Steven's fears, Anissa put her head down, closed her eyes, and tried to remember what else she had to finish up today before she closed the store.

She had to make sure to change the display on the window, since it was one of those books which she needed to ship to Mr. Stevens. She also needed to remember to unplug the coffee maker because she couldn't afford another fire. And of course, she and George needed to sit down and figure out if this bookstore was actually making any money.

Raising her head and looking around Raven's Rare and Used Books, she smiled and looked up at the stuffed raven perched on the fake tree branch and felt good about it. She really liked this place, and wanted to keep it. Anissa decided she'd let George know that even if it wasn't being profitable at the moment, she wanted to keep the store.

The store felt right. She belonged here, Anissa thought as she started toward the display. As she stood there looking at the books already on display and wondering what books would replace those, it came to her. Staggering her, she reached to grab the back of the closest chair and leaned against it. It came in a vicious wave of incoherent images until only one image became clear.

Everything around her became silent. She put her hands up to her face, trying to get the vision to clear, or maybe to leave her alone. She stood there leaning heavily against the chair as she saw a black blur, a vehicle hit a man as he crossed the street. The man's body seemed to fly through the air, as Anissa closed her eyes tight, her breathing becoming shallow.

Slowly the vision subsided, and Anissa sat down on the chair and tried to calm herself. She noticed how her hands trembled when she brought them up to wipe the tears that had run down her cheeks. She took a few deep breathes, staring straight ahead, willing her breathing and her heart rate to become normal. After several minutes, she managed to stand once more.

Sixteen years of being plagued with images, they still left her shaken and scared. She saw no rhyme or reason to them. They came and went without her being able to control them. They had no pattern. She wasn't even sure it they were real or not. For all she knew they were just an outlet for her overactive imagination. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that they meant nothing except that she watched too much television, she always failed miserably. She knew that the images were real. That the events she saw in them actually happened. What she didn't know was whether she saw images of the past, the present, or the future.

She was finishing the display when George Raynes finally emerged from the back room. George and Anissa had been best friends since they were both six years old and deserted by their parents at day camp together. He had a surfer's tan, blonde hair, and blue eyes, and at first glance people assumed that he was just that -- a bored rich boy playing with daddy's money until something better popped up. It took only a minute to look beyond the good looks and see the sharp and cunning mind that lurked behind the dreamy blue eyes and the dimpled smile.

Looking at the books she had put on the window, he picked up a particularly large tome and moved it left by a couple of centimeters. Anissa looked at him, saying nothing until he had put the book back down, and then with a smile she moved the book back a couple of centimeters.

"We've got an agreement, Georgie," she said pushing at him as she walked by, "I handle the window and the actual books, and you deal with the money, the computer, and the rest of the business aspect."

George nodded, then moved the book back to where he had originally put it. "So, Anissa, tell me the truth," he said, looking around the store with it's dark corners and aisles of books, "what do you think?"

Anissa also looked around taking in the dark paneling, the layer of dust that always seemed to cling to everything no matter how much she dusted. She looked at the dark cherry wood circular tables placed around the store, the wooden thrones with red velvet padding that adorned a couple of dark corners, and finally back at the stuffed raven perched as though ready for flight.

"I like it," she said simply.

Once again George nodded, "Good, me too."

Anissa went over to where he stood by the display and threw her arms around him, feeling comforted and safe at once. "So, we're keeping it, right?" she whispered against his ear.

"Yeah, we're keeping it," he murmured.

Stepping back Anissa smiled up at him, nodded, reached down and moved the book once more. "Ready to close up for the day?" she asked heading toward the back room to get her purse.

"Yeah," George replied, heading for the book.

"You touch that book again, Georgie and I'll skin you alive and feed you to Cat."

George quickly put his hands up and moved away from the window, "I wouldn't think of moving the book again," he said waiting for her by the door. "You did remember to turn off the coffee pot, right Anissa?"

"Ha, ha funny, of course I remembered to turn off the coffee pot," Anissa stated as she walked into the other room. After collecting her purse, she walked over to the table where the coffee pot was and checked the switch "Of course it's off," she whispered to herself.

"Anissa did you say something?" George asked from the other room.

"No, why? Are you hearing things now," came the sarcastic response from Anissa.

"No, I just swear I heard you tell yourself that you had turned off the coffee pot," George was unable to control his laughter as he stated the fact to her.

"Oh shut up!" was her response as she headed towards the door. Before walking out the door, she checked to make sure the book was exactly where she had left it.

George walked Anissa to her car, a new dark purple Dodge Viper, which she had bought herself for her last birthday. The only thing she had every splurged on. And damn, thought George, she sure looked good driving the thing. Watching her climb into her car, George noticed that her eyes weren't as clear or happy as they usually were when she got inside the car.

"You had another one, didn't you?" George whispered the question, but Anissa heard it anyway.

She looked up at him, put the key in the ignition, nodded, "Don't worry about me, I can handle them. Besides, this one wasn't that bad." Shrugging it off, she closed the door, waved at George and sped away.

George watched the car speed off, shook his head, wondering whether she was telling the truth or trying to be brave. As the Viper turned the corner, George walked towards his own car, a black Lexus, and wondered if he would be able to help her when she stopped shrugging them off.

Anissa arrived at her apartment, opened the door, and stepped out of her black shoes before turning around to close it. She sighed in contentment, having freed her feet from the annoying shoes. Barefoot, she walked into the kitchen opened both the refrigerator and freezer doors to look inside to see if she had anything to eat. She didn't. The only thing she had in her fridge was a box of baking soda, an open can of Coke, and two Zimas, and in her freezer there were two empty ice trays and half a bottle of vodka.

Weighing her options, she decided that a Zima had more nutritional value than either the vodka or flat Coke, and it wouldn't get her drunk. Taking the drink from the fridge, she sat down at her kitchen table. The kitchen was decorated in black and white, was very contemporary, and virtually unused. Anissa looked around her kitchen, found a pen and pad and wrote in big, bold letters "BUY FOOD. SOON." Writing the same message in four different pieces of paper, she stood up, stuck one to the freezer door, one to the microwave, she walked back into her living room and stuck one to the front door, and stuck the last one to the outside of her purse. Satisfied that now she probably wouldn't forget to buy food, she walked back into the kitchen, sat back down on the chair and began her dinner of a Zima.

Sitting there alone drinking her dinner, her mind wandered back at the vision she had that afternoon. An accident of some sort, she thought. She hadn't seen any street signs or stores that were familiar to her. She felt something rubbing against her bare feet, jumping out of her daydreams, she looked down, saw Cat and picked her up. Cat was big, huge actually, she had black fur, black eyes, and was invisible in the dark. Along with her dark looks, Cat also had a dark personality. She was known to scratch people she didn't particularly like, and George swore that she bit him once. Anissa, completely infatuated with the demon, hadn't believed him because to her Cat had the sunniest disposition.

Anissa held Cat close, stroking her fur, listening to her contented purr.

"You must be hungry, sweetheart," Anissa murmured to her cherished pet. "Don't worry, darling. I didn't forget to buy you food."

Anissa walked over to the pantry, Cat still held firmly in her arms, and opened the doors. The pantry shelves were lined with row after row of cat food.

"So, Cat, what will it be today?" Anissa asked, then paused as though to give the cat time to answer. "Do you want lamb, or chicken, or tuna? Ah, you want some of that new salmon dinner, don't you, baby?"

Anissa gently set Cat down, like she was putting down a sleeping baby, took down one of the five cans of salmon dinners and fed the demon.

Having made sure that Cat was properly fed, Anissa walked into the living room to see if there were any messages on her machine. Her living room, unlike her kitchen, looked lived in. Like the book store, the room tended to be dark, since it had no overhead lighting, the only lighting came from the small lamps scattered throughout. Also scattered throughout was Anissa's collection of fantastical beings. A silver unicorn adorned one of the side tables, dragons with ruby and emerald eyes served as book ends on the shelf, and wizards with arms outstretched calling lightening forth stood guard at the table next to the entrance. Her sofa and chairs were covered in black leather, and the sofa was almost as comfortable as her bed.

She sat down on the chair next to the phone and pushed the play button on her machine. The first two messages were hang-ups, the wrong number, she decided, shrugging. The third message was from her mother.

"Anissa, darling, when are you coming home? We really miss you. You've proven that you can make it on your own, but this is too much. Sell that stupid little store, come home, and marry that nice doctor I introduced to you at the Richard's wedding last month. He's been asking for you. So, he isn't too handsome, who cares, he has more money than God, that has to count for something. Call me, sweetie, just let me know and I'll send the jet for you to that godforsaken little hell-hole. Seriously Anissa, Mercy, Texas? Who the..."

Luckily the machine had cut her mother off before she had the chance to finish the thought, but Anissa already knew it. It was the same thing every time her mother called or she called home. When are you going to finish proving that you can succeed and come home? When are you going to settle down with a rich doctor or lawyer or CEO? Her mother could never understand that Mercy had become her home. That she actually liked this little hell-hole.

mayeliza
mayeliza
9 Followers
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