Love From Death Book 1

Chapter 3 Love to Panic

Chapter 3

Love to Panic

Samantha didn’t pay attention to anything the teacher was saying in class, nothing through their lecture grasped her attention more than her first time talking to Jason. The memory acting upon like a drug she wanted more of. Hearing his voice over and over as if it were her favorite song. She would hope that maybe, in a few days, she could talk with him again in a better place.

Even if her thoughts of him were pure most of the time, never following him or tailing his calendar, she didn’t have one picture of him on her laptop or in her room. She never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable, at the same time, she wanted to be closer to him. Get to know who he was outside of school.

But her first moment with him, of all places and for anything to happen, was with an almost heated argument with Ashley, putting on a show to see who was better. Samantha couldn’t believe that her first conversation was over a fight with someone way prettier than her, yelling at her friends about them being who they are. She had to share a moment she had waited for so long with a violent outcome.

Samantha sighed in aggravation, keeping her head down on her desk, letting her laptop screen shield her from the teacher’s gaze. The sound of them writing across the board echoed out one ear through the other. She was sure that she needed to take notes, but her motivation for the time was her memory folding over and over on Jason’s face, his eyes shining to her, his lips prominent as he smiled at her, his long-toned arms setting naturally to his side, his body carved from the angels themselves.

Samantha blushed at the memory, letting her mind melt to nothing worth in the class, not noticing that the teacher had stopped writing and was now shouting her name over the entire class.

“Miss Athans, would you like to share with us what is so interesting with your desk?” Mrs. Lobar asked. Samantha’s head shot up, the color flushed from her face, paling her fear for all to see. The class turning their heads to see what she would say to the teacher.

Mrs. Lobar was a stern woman, pristine pale skin fetched in a business suit covering her body in a professional manner, classing it together with the stomping sound clacking of high heeled shoes. She was the empress of the school and Samantha just irritated the woman.

She was toast.

“Nothing, Mrs. Lobar. Nothing at all.” Samantha said, straightening herself up in her seat. The class kept their eyes on her for a while, letting the awkward tension grow.

“Then maybe you will find something more interesting on the board, Miss Athans?” Mrs. Lobar asked. Samantha nodded at her, letting her fingers flow across her keyboard, noting the words and definitions so that she could give them reference to, for later.

Glad that she was only given a warning and let everything go.

Samantha pushed any thoughts she had left for Jason to the back of her mind, letting the cold stab of being called out a good reminder to not slack off in Mrs. Lobar’s class. Pulsing her fingers through the rest of the class, she made sure her eyes only stayed to two different places.

Looking up to the board to read what Mrs. Lobar wrote and the other to quickly type down what was on the board.

Clinging to the small thought that once she was done with Mrs. Lobar’s class, she could hurry over to Set Design, let her thoughts play to what was needed for the backdrop for the play the Theatre class wanted to put on.

And Then There Were Fewer

One play she was sure that someone in the late-night class came up with the idea to do a play about people dying and hiding secrets till only the truth came out. The crew helping to build the set was more than happy to let the Set Design students do all the work.

Samantha never understood what went through the Theatre kids heads when the hardest thing in the world, was to give the best props and stage to something that was just so horrible in her opinion. All the lies and mistrust was something Samantha couldn’t stand, breaking a lot of her own silence when they were first approached for doing the play.

“People love the drama and the pull of what can come from someone’s death.” Nicholas told her when she tried to suggest a different play, but he wouldn’t budge on the subject. Saying it was out of his hands and that the entire department was on board with the idea.

Bring in more money for the department and break the new students in with the nerves and see which of their starring performers can break the moment they step onto the stage. Acting was never Samantha’s strong point but being so close to the performance on opening night was more than she could ask for.

Catching the sound of the bell cured her scared internal fight for wanting to run and breathed a sigh of relief as she quickly packed her things and headed for the door.

“Pay more attention, Miss Athans. It will serve you better in the future.” Mrs. Lobar said. Samantha stopped, turned to her teacher and nodded her head quickly before almost leaping out the door and towards the theatre.

Keeping her pace to make it on time, she let herself relax as each person she passed either moved out of her way or was just standing against the wall, fading to nothing but a blur to her, her mind would flash to a moment with Jason. Shaking her head, she kept any of her thoughts concerning Jason be nothing but a small seed, waiting for its chance to grow with each passing day.

Glad that maybe one day she could talk with him on a regular basis, but for now she was just nobody to him. A fly on his wall, ready to be squashed from existence. She was not on his radar yet, but maybe she could be a small cloud one day. Smiling to herself, she was unaware of a set of eyes watching her from a far. Seeing where she was going, who she talked to, what she would do when she stopped to look at a board full of club activities.

Smiling smugly when her friends joined her, a young boy and a short girl. One he knew to stay away from and the other that was easy and perfect to take out at any chance. Licking their lips, the sensation of feeling their skin in their mouths cultivated a wave of saliva to cascade from them.

The taste alone of their blood would be enough to satisfy their master, another member of the family to give strength to. Their eyes bulging as they saw their sweet target walk away with them, taking a few steps within the walls, shielding themselves in the shaded areas gifted to them to move through the day.

Quickening their steps as they notice her and her friends start their way to the theatre, shoving their hands into their pockets provided by their tan cover coat, passing as a completely normal student.

Glimpsing at their laughter and joy before they disappeared behind the pristine white bricked walls containing the knowledge all to well from the outside world. Too intent on what was before them, never looking to see who bumped into them. Their smile wiped clean from their face, cleaving their desire in half before cleansing their hands of whatever was stopping them.

Hitting a wall like obstacle, they turned their eyes to an angry, tall, man. Grabbing the front of their collar, they were thrown into an empty room, crashing onto a few desks before the slam of the door reached their ears, the only easy exit for them to use. Looking to the figure blocking the exit, a clear sight of an intricate mark bore on their right arm gave away their identity.

A small weak chuckle escaped their blood tainted lips. The irony of running into the only thing stopping them from growing.

Their appearance was not like the others, the sight of one could be their last, but this one was different. They could tell that something was off.

“How many of you are here?” The man asked. Their sneer evident in their frustration, crimson red blurred their vision as the pull of the ever present beating of a heart thumping into their ears.

“Who’s to know, huh? Could be thousands of us.” They said, the devilish grin returning to their face. Their skin color paling in contrast to the white walls around them. A low rumble erupting from their stomach as they struggled to pick themselves back up.

“I ask the questions here, not you.” The man said, gripping tight to his left side as he took a few steps towards the dark creature.

“Oh? Do you now? You don’t even have your bars yet, boy. You command nothing.” They spat, their spit landing a few feet apart from them.

“I may not have them, but I can still kill you all the same. Either talk now or talk to Charon after I sever your head from your body.” The man said, pulling a small silver blade from his side. Tilting the hilt of the blade inward, letting his arm fall to his side.

“Kill? Me? You can try. Nothing can kill me, boy.” They spoke. The man glared at him.

“Last chance, how many of you are here?” The man demanded. The smile grew wider on their face.

“Shove it up your ass.” They said, their fangs breaching their lips, before the feeling of flying trickled to a few seconds of fear.

Seconds was all it took for the man to close the gap between them, slicing their head from their shoulders. Burns of the blade clotted the blood from spilling on to the floor, folding from the main source of its support, landing at his feet.

Sheathing his blade back to his side, vanishing from sight as he kneeled, collecting the head in his steeled hands. The sound of the outside world bustling around them, reaching a tight crescendo as all were wanting to return home. The man sighed, relieving his pent-up anger for only a moment was enough to keep his sanity of putting on a farce in check.

Holding the head in his hands, the man watched as the light slowly faded from their eyes, gleaming to the dimmed lights of the room around them.

“You should have talked.” The man said. Squatting down to the body laying before him, he spotted a small lump in the back pocket, taking shape of what looked like to be a wallet.

Reaching to grab it, his suspicions were confirmed, flipping through the contents, letting the cards in them alone. He stopped at one small torn piece of paper, the faint shades of scribble in the folds of the page seem to scream at him, ‘open me’.

The paper unfolded in his fingers; a small sentence scribbled on it brought his hands to freeze.

Samantha Athans. Bring her to me.

The simple sentence alone brought rage to his eyes, shoving the note into his front pocket. The sheer will it took for him to move the body close to the window was enough to filter his rage, watching the skin on its bones burn to a crisp, blackened charcoal, till the shining suns rays made it disappear.

He looked at the head, sitting in the palm of his right hand. Not needing to see the look of shock anymore, he tossed it into the sunlight, smoldering to nothing but smoke before his very eyes. Taking a quick look around him, he straightened each desk and chair knocked over in his ‘fight’ with them, keeping them in line as if nothing had ever entered the room.

Taking one last look around him, satisfied that nothing would be left of what happened, he opened the door and closed it behind him, entering the halls in contempt that he needed to keep a closer eye on Samantha.

A voice shouting down the hall caught his attention, his nature temper taking place as he turned to the group of people calling for him.

“Jason, come on. Kyle wants to start early.” One of the boys said. Shoving his present like aside, a fake smile played on his face.

“Sure. I’m coming.” Jason said, leaving nothing but an empty room behind him. Leaving behind his true self as if he never existed. All the while thinking in the back of his mind if Samantha was safe with her friends for the time being.

Samantha pulled her head back, the tickle in her throat made her nose irritated, sneezing into her elbow. Wondering what brought on the sneeze, while the rest of the students worked on the set around her. Happy that Cameron and Jenna came with her when they did. Taking a seat in the front row, reading over their books or looking something up on one of their computers.

She had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her, the feeling of the man that morning came crawling back into play, creasing her calm demeanor into complete chaos when she stopped to read what the Theatre club posted about the play, her anxiety reaching another level as the thought of someone like that man was around her somewhere.

Those feelings disappearing when she saw Cameron and Jenna walk up to her, asking her how her last class was, slyly bringing up how sweet Jason looked coming to her rescue earlier in the day. Asking her if they could come with her and hang out with her while she did the set in the theatre.

Relief was instant when they insisted on coming with her when she told them they didn’t have to. She was sure they could feel her being uneasy as well. Samantha looked down at the few materials in her hands, curling a few nails secured in her palm and a screwdriver wrenched tightly between two of her fingers.

Samantha inhaled softly, walking over to one of the backdrops placed neatly on the stage, a small cut out of the living room chandelier hanging over a few old-fashioned chairs as if this room were more important than any other than the imaginary building itself.

Samantha kneeled before it, placing the nails and the screwdriver down next to her, tracing her other hand across the painted work. The somewhat smooth sensation of the dried paint carving small traces of itself over her fingertips, desperately coming to life before her. She wondered if she was placed in the same situation as the characters in the play.

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, after being invited to an old friend’s place to celebrate in their efforts through out life, one after another being killed until the murderer was caught by a twisted sense of revenge.

Would she hide her life’s events from the people around her? Could she be able to deal with the multiple murders occurring one after the other? Could she accept the reasons for the deaths?

She was never going to be unsure about one thing. She hated being lied to. The way someone can cover up something, to deceive others and themselves was something she could never understand. Like being in a messed-up play, being someone else, acting, talking, and feeling like they would instead of just being yourself in the play.

Samantha made sure not to push to hard on the board as she leaned back and reached over to grab one of the nails. Seeing the hammer, she had put close to it from before, she reached over and grabbed it, freezing when she looked back down at the picture.

What was empty chairs plastered on the board, with a light show of color and shadows giving depth to a beautiful show for a backdrop. Was now holding a slender, caramel figure sitting lady like in one of the chairs. Their eyes a coral blue almost complimented the curled pinched back long silver hair draped over their shoulders. The maroon dress looks almost like the shine from real silk, fitting to the form of her hips, splitting the of the dress at their knees.

Samantha tried shaking her head, thinking maybe lack of sleep was bringing on another episode, but when she dared to look back at the figure, they were still, now staring right at her. Cold sweat breaking down her face, trying for all she had not to turn and ask one of her fellow classmates to look at it and see if she was seeing things.

She was already known as a little different in the class, pushing for a more constructive idea for bringing to life what was on a page, having such uptight morals in their craft. She didn’t need to have the label of the weird silent kid. She needed to get herself together.

You won’t last, Samantha.

Samantha heard a voice whisper close to her. She looked over her shoulder, seeing a few students starting to put the scene together one piece at a time. The Theatre students were off to the side, running loud routines of enunciating and trick word phrases to help in running lines. No one was close enough to whisper to her like she heard. She kept looking still, hoping maybe someone was just pulling a prank on her.

You’re going to choke, Samantha.

In horror, Samantha looked down at the board she was working on, the figure smiling slyly at her. Seeing the movement of her dress were small, but it was as if wind had picked up the painting and caressed her dress within.

Why fight the inevitable, Samantha?

It was the figure. They were talking to her. She had to be hallucinating, her mind was tricking her into seeing things again. This wasn’t real.

She closed her eyes shut, wishing to herself that all of it was to just go away and to leave her alone. That when she opened them back up, the figure would be gone and that it was over. She prayed for a single moment before slowly opening her eyes once again.

The figure was gone. Samantha sighed deeply in relief, sitting back on bottom as she let her arms fall to the side of her. It was all just a hallucination. She was okay and nothing was going to happen. Samantha took a few breathes, letting her anxiety relax before grabbing hold of one of the nails, being stopped by a thick black heel stomping on it.

She looked up and saw the figure was before her, real and was seething red. Her skin burning like fire before their form erupted in fire and smoke, engulfing her sight in darkness. Their voice haunting her ears more, the shrill of it echoing off the walls made the words grow louder and louder.

YOU WILL DIE! YOU ARE OURS! YOUR LIFE BELONGS TO US!

Nothing was stopping them. The creeping of her sanity almost gone, only to see one of the stage crew come into to view, trying to keep on of the props from falling, not seeing a stray weight bag snapping from its support, falling towards him. Her heart jumping to her throat, pumping to the speed of a crashing bullet. The panic racing through her blood wanted to make her scream out, but she didn’t.

The crash of the bag close to impact, inches from his head, Samantha closed her eyes to not see, telling herself it wasn’t real. None of it was real.

The touch of someone’s hand landing on her shoulder shocked her to open her eyes, seeing Cameron staring at her. Samantha remained silent for a moment, seeing that the Set Design student were putting away the set and were getting ready to home. Samantha looked over to where she saw one of the stage crew working,

He was fine and alive, looking up into the roof holding the alleged sandbag was still up and secured in the rafters above. Samantha breathed a silent sigh of relief before finally registering what Cameron was telling.

“Sam, they’re about to lock up the theatre for the day. We gotta go.” Cameron said. Samantha nodded her head quickly, silently feeling her heartbeat falls back to normal.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I’ll go get my things and get going.” Samantha said, pushing back on the ball of her heels, rising quickly away from Cameron before he could see anything else. Samantha could see the look of concern on Jenna’s face, holding her things in her arms, looking over at the other students starting head for the door.

Samantha felt a small cry erupt from within her mind. She was scared and worried about what was happening to her. The lack of sleep was not helping the hallucination, but they were getting worse as the day went on.

She only needed to do her shift today at work, then she would head home and crash on her bed for the night. She kept repeating to herself that she only needed to keep her mind straight for next few hours then she could sleep when she got home.

“Sam,” Samantha stopped for a moment, turning around to face him. “You okay? You were staring at that thing for like ever.” Cameron said. Samantha nodded her head again, cracking a small smile to try and keep his worries down for her.

“Yeah. Like I said, I’m just tired. I’ll get some sleep after I get off work.” Samantha said, still taking a few steps away from him. She just needed to make the day to speed by faster.

“Okay. Want me and Jenna to walk with you to work?” Cameron asked. Samantha shook her, grabbing her bag and coat before thinking about her answer to him.

“No. I should be fine. You guys go on. I’ll message you guys later, okay?” Samantha asked, breezing by both a confused Cameron and a somewhat silent Jenna.

“Sam, we can walk with you. Besides, you know I have to pass your work to get home. Cameron is coming over to my house this evening to help me study.” Jenna said, looping her arm around Samantha’s arm, seeing her smile over at Cameron.

“Yeah. We can walk with you to work, Sam. Come on.” Cameron said. Samantha nearly spoke up to tell them she was okay, but Jenna didn’t give her the chance, pulling her towards the stage steps and out the door they went, Cameron in toe with them.

Samantha didn’t want to make their day about her, but deep down, she was glad they were around. Cameron put her at ease and Jenna was more than just being a good friend. She cared about both Cameron and her friendship. She never tried to intervene with the time they spent together.

Jenna never once tried to hog Cameron from her or try to pull him away from her if they were going to hang out. She would join in their fun, making the time better and the want to do it again. She never knew that Cameron’s girlfriend, would also become a friend she could depend on the most. Samantha smiled to herself, letting that happy thought keep her hopes up for the rest of the day.

It surprised her to no end, even as they made their way through the school’s campus, the jokes she would make and how Cameron would tell her about a small story about why Samantha would do something so small, thinking no one else would catch it, but he did.

Samantha would try to shrug it off, claiming it was just something she does, before hearing a roar of laughter come from both Jenna and Cameron before she joined them. They just clicked and Samantha felt safe when she was with her friends. Talking back and forth about how school would better if the rooms didn’t smell like burnt bleach or if maybe they had lighter books to carry.

Samantha felt her heart hurt as they arrived at her work, giving them both a quick hug goodbye, slipping around the back of the grocery store, entering the employee only door and getting herself ready for the work she needed to do. Her sight hitting the staff lounge door hanging to her right, seeing the board of new hires and tips for a better shift and store for those that would need it or just to ignore it.

Samantha braced herself as made it to her locker, putting her backpack tight on the side, grabbing her bright red work vest on over her clothes, checking to see if her small plastic badge still clipped in place over her heart before placing her coat over her backpack.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her locker door, locking back in place and made her way to the floor, hearing the noise of buggies and products moving around the small aisles, the lights keeping the beige wall lite for the customers and bringing to life the little store had to offer.

Samantha reported to her supervisor, hearing them list off a few things still needing to be done and she sighed inwardly. She expected this when she came in. Product still not on the shelves and it had been there since the early morning. She only nodded her head and got to work.

She grabbed a long cart, placing the many cardboard boxes on top of the other, breaking through some of the pile she needed to get through. Grumbling to herself as she made her way through each aisle, placing the cans, bags, containers, bottles and cases of food or drinks in the proper place. Hear a light voice a few aisles over talking to themselves about where the hell the powdered mash had gone. Samantha put on her customer service smile, making her way to them and helping them as best she could.

Making her way to where the voice came from, Samantha spotted a middle-aged woman holding a small piece of paper in her hand, the basket in the other arm, moving boxes of rice and dry noodles about, trying to find something that was obviously not there. She was wearing a simple shirt and a pair of khaki tan pants, picking up the attire with worn down sandals. Samantha braced herself once again, dread sinking into her stomach when she approached the woman.

“How may I help you?” Samantha asked them. She noticed the lady was reading off what little scribble that was there for some eggs, mash potatoes, and a cream of some soup she needed.

“Where is the mash potatoes? Why do you people always change things in this store?” The woman said, grumbling more to Samantha, but she lost interest the minute her demeaning tone hit her ears.

“Right this way. The mashed potatoes are in aisle five, right next to instant macaroni section.” Samantha answered, leading the woman to the correct aisle, letting her waddle down to the end, watching her find what brand she needed and toss it into her basket.

Samantha sighed and returned to her aisle, hearing the ringing of the front automatic door open, bringing in another ‘happy’ customer for her to help. She had hoped that maybe they would leave her be and let her return to her work.

“Excuse me. Can I get your help?” A man asked. Samantha sighed, plastering the fake customer service smile on once again as she left the safety of her aisle and went to greet the customer.

“What can I help you wit-” Samantha stopped, seeing the one person she didn’t think she would see come in on her shift, her heart stopping for a moment at the sight of him.

“Hey, Samantha.” Jason said. Giving a new meaning to having the best first impression when meeting someone you like.

She should have gone straight home today.