Night of the Tiger

Chapter One

Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating the entire bedroom for one brief second. A crash of thunder quickly followed, rattling the windows. The long, white curtains billowed in the breeze like some ghostly visitor as the wind pushed through the screen, bringing the damp air with it.

Aimee Horner shifted restlessly in her bed, rolling from her side to her back. The covers bunched around her waist, a silent testament to her growing agitation. Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and she shivered as the chill in the night air hit her bare flesh.

But she didn’t wake. The dream was upon her.

Lightning flashed behind her eyelids, revealing a trio of skeletal remains casually leaning against a rock wall, their skin rotted and ripped away from their bodies. Large black ravens swooped around them, pecking what little flesh remained on their bones. Maggots swarmed around their decomposing internal organs and through empty eye sockets.

Aimee swallowed back the scream of terror that threatened to erupt from her throat. It would do no good. There was no one to help her. No way out.

As always, she was alone.

The trio straightened and bowed at their waists as she passed. Their actions were unexpectedly graceful and formal. Like some terrible hosts from a horror movie, they invited her closer.

They held out their bony fingers, beckoning her forward. Their shiny teeth and smooth jaws were locked in a permanent smile, offering a macabre greeting as she entered the darkness beyond. She didn’t want to go any farther, wanted desperately to wake up. But her feet shuffled forward as if propelled by some unseen force.

It was always this way.

Her heart pounded so hard it felt as though it would erupt from her chest at any moment. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, rolled down her cheek and slipped off the edge of her jaw. Clad in only the thin cotton shift she slept in, her feet bare, Aimee inched into the darkness. Evil laughter, mixed with tortured screams, mocked her. Taunted her. Drew her onward.

The air was damp and moldy, a product of centuries of decay and rot. She tried to breathe through her mouth, not her nose, but the stench surrounded her, clinging to her and permeating her skin. She could taste the despair, the rising fear, on her tongue and not all of it was her own. Sweat dotted her forehead, plastering her hair to her skull.

Aimee tried to discern the ground beneath her feet, desperate to see where she was stepping, but it was almost impossible to catch even a glimpse. The darkness seemed intent on swallowing her whole.

Goose bumps rose on her skin as a blast of chilly air swept over her. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A shiver crept down her spine. Someone was behind her.

The urge to glance over her shoulder was overwhelming, like an itch she didn’t dare scratch. She didn’t look back. Couldn’t look back.

She ignored the urge to scream, the increasing pressure swelling in her throat, and pretended she didn’t see the multitude of red eyes observing her every move, stalking her silently from the darkness.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating her surroundings as though it were midday. For a brief second, she saw everything. Grotesque creatures of every conceivable shape, color and size surrounded her. Watching. Waiting.

For what, she didn’t know. Wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Some of them had skin like leather, tough and scaly. Several had horns in place of ears and hooves where their feet should be. One or two had wings of a sort, spread wide, making them appear even larger. There were several no bigger than a dog, while others were at least seven feet tall. Most fell somewhere in-between.

A few of the creatures appeared almost human, until you looked into their eyes. There was nothing human about them then. Aimee closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Those red, soulless, pitiless eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. Somehow, the human-looking creatures were more frightening than the ones that truly looked like monsters.

She was in some sort of underground cave, her steps leading her downward when what she most wanted to do was turn around and bolt back to where she’d come from. She longed to feel the sunlight on her face and smell the fresh air filling her lungs. Still, she could not go back. Not until she’d done what she was supposed to do.

A sense of knowing came from somewhere inside her. If she didn’t do this now, it would be even worse for her the next time. If she showed any reluctance, the demons would fall on her like a pack of rabid dogs on a chunk of prime meat. She didn’t question her instincts, but went with them, taking a cautious step forward.

The air grew thicker and hotter with each step, harder to breathe. The stench of rotted flesh and death grew more stifling with each passing second. A crash of thunder shook the walls, sending a shower of rocks tumbling to the dirt path in front of her.