Iniquity: Book One

Chapter One

Chapter One

Everett, Washington 2027

Dreams are when fear can come to us at its strongest, when we have no way to combat it. It will do everything it possibly can to invade and control you. It will steal your sleep. Sometimes it may be successful. Who can say that nightmares and dreams aren't as real as the air we breathe? Not me. My life has been twisted by the my dreams and I can't have a moment of rest without them invading and attempting to take over. Now life, for me, is a chaotic blend of sleeplessness and dread. My nightmares are as attached to me as my shadow. I cannot escape them.

My name is Amber Black and when I was twenty-two years old I was a freelance photographer. That was the time everything happened. This is where my story begins. After going through the events I am about to share with you I feel as if I have aged a hundred years. My soul has been that weathered by my suffering. Fear can do that to you. It can age you from the inside out, twist you, and can even take away your want to live.

At five foot six, and skinny as sin with a head of long brown hair ending in the small of my back, I definitely would consider myself at least somewhat attractive. Although, it pains me to say that my slightly wavy hair is never without a plethora of split ends and suffering from the local humidity. I feel like I am pretty independant, however I feel like I am always exhausted. I work over forty hours a week doing photography and rarely have personal time. I’m also a b***h, and proud of it. If you cross me, I am liable to put some venom in your bloodstream. I have always been like that, even with my close friends, especially Tony.

Tony and I have been friends for years now. We met in high school, freshman year to be exact, when I was at a party getting sufficiently hammered. I definitely wasn’t up to par with my senses and not making very good decisions. I met Tony when I realized we both hooked up with the same guy there. I hooked up with him first, thankfully, and watched a few minutes later as the loser walked outside holding Tony’s hand. I saw Tony a little while later by the fridge getting a beer and I asked him about the guy he went outside with a little while earlier. Tony, being as flamboyantly gay as one could ever hope to be, explained to me that they had just went for a little “shag”. My brow raised and all I could bring myself to do was tell Tony I had just hooked up with the same guy an hour earlier. Tony’s brow raised and we just broke out in laughter and a high five. Years later we are still best friends and he has helped me through so much s**t. He was there when my sister was killed by a drunk driver a few years ago, holding my head in his lap, and he was here for me now, when my life was touched by darkness.

You could almost always find me in one of Everett’s many coffee shops, like the day this story began, or you could find me along the beach with my trusty camera snapping pictures. I am a total sucker for the Washington coast, always have, and always will be. The day things went bad for me happened to have been one of those amazingly overcast days that the Pacific Northwest is so famous for. This was April 21st to be exact. Hell, it is always overcast here. It’s great being a photographer here because the diffused overcast light always makes your skin appear so flawless in photos. In fact, I happened to have been talking about the weather with Tony, while we sat at our usual window seat at Starbucks, while enjoying some very good brew.

The weather seemed like a much safer topic than what I really wanted to talk to Tony about. I had been wanting to tell Tony about the spree of dreams that had been invading my brain lately, but I had been chicken. His sarcastic sense of humor was keeping me from divulging what was troubling me. I knew it was entirely possible he would use it in some sort of pun. Not wanting to tell him was out the window now, though, until today. Last night was the absolute last f*****g straw.

Tony could tell something was wrong though. He always could. He stared at me intently with those baby blues of his before speaking. “Something is bothering you, Amber,” he began, while leaning over the small table and providing me a stern and concerned look. “I know you hun. I can see it written all over your face.”

I shook my head. This was proving to be difficult. “Nothing..”

“Talk,” he commanded after sipping his coffee. “That’s an order.” He was a little impatient this morning.

I was trying my very best to conceal myself behind my venti latte to no avail. There was no hiding from my friend when he was on a mission for answers. I should have known better than to wear my problems on my sleeve like this. I could never conceal my emotions from him. This is why I could never, ever, play poker with him.

“Promise me you won’t laugh, Tony. Swear it.” I presented him with my very best “don’t f**k with me” look.

He raised his brow in shock, I guess realizing how serious this was to me. “Okay.. okay.. Jeez Amber, why so high strung?”

The tables around us were clearing out so I waited for a minute until a gaggle of little Asian girls left before moving on with emptying my thoughts to him.

I leveled my head and lowered my voice. “I’m having some dreams about a dog, Tony.”

“A dog..?”

I nodded. “At least that's what I think it is.” Maybe telling him wasn’t the best idea.

Tony’s eyes widened considerably before, you guessed it, a mammoth sized fit of laughter spewed forth from his lips. “Did you take it on a walk?” He ran his hands through his wheat colored hair in exasperation.

“f**k you!” I retorted angrily.

“Or.. did this dream involve a jar of peanut butter?” He was laughing uncontrollably now, much to my annoyance.

Oh God.

What a certified asshat. I still loved him though, even if a shred of him wasn’t being serious at this point.

“I’m being serious, Tony! It wasn’t a good dream.” I paused to collect myself and let out a heavy sigh before proceeding on. “I am having nightmares.” I gave him “The Look” again. He knew better than to mess with me now. I was in b***h mode.

He knew The Look. “Ohh,” he started after stopping his laughing spree, then adding, “You’re doing it.”

“Damn right.”

“I am all ears,” he said after a thoughtful sip from his cup. He knew better.

Starbucks wasn’t crowded anymore and we were somewhat alone. I glanced around for a moment. There was only a young couple of about our age in the other corner. Nevertheless, I leaned closer to him and decided to continue. Just thinking about these stupid ass dreams was sending ice cold shivers up and down my spine. I didn’t need prying ears listening to this.

“They won’t go away, Tony.” I said through my teeth. I started shaking slightly, but stopped myself and took a deep breath. This was hard. “I have tried drinking myself to sleep, natural remedies, yoga, f**k, I have even tried warm milk. I even tried those damn sleeping pills you gave me months ago when I broke my wrist. Nothing works.”

“Dang,” was all he could reply. He was listening to me vent and I could tell he was troubled now by what I was going through.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I will talk lower.” The grandma, now at the register ordering a drink, was still giving me the evil eye.

Tony laughed. “Ignore the insane grandma and get on with it.” Then he spoke more under his breath. “Tell me more about Cujo.”

I gave him a dirty look. “Cujo. Really?”

Today was pretty chilly, yet talking about my dream made ne feel even colder. I gently placed my coffee cup down in front of me. I didn’t realize that I had been holding it so tightly. I rubbed my hands on the sleeves of my black long sleeved thermal top. Even paired with the skinny jeans I was wearing I still wasn’t warm. I wished I would have grabbed a jacket on my way out this morning.

Tony, however, was dressed in his usual attire of jeans and tshirt with white hoodie on top. He didn’t look the slightest bit cold. I was envious. His azure eyes looked at me expectantly.

“I haven't seen it up close. Sometimes in.. the dreams.. I am sitting in my living room and I can hear the.. Breathing. I can smell it.”

His eyes widened. “Okay..”

“Okay. Or I will be walking in the rain outside and it’s like a shadow behind me.” I adjusted the rim of my pink glasses. “That’s all I can remember. It happens a lot Tony. It happens every damn night.” My trembling hands struggled to pick up my coffee to warm myself up, but I did.

Still cold.

Trembling.

Tony noticed my shaking too and reached out to help. Cue nervous breakdown. “Chill Amber,” he said while rubbing his hands over mine, and then adding in compassionate voice, “Take a deep breath. This has been happening for how long?”

He sounded genuinely concerned. He could definitely see how this was affecting me. My talk earlier must have really gotten to him.

“I told you. It has been happening for a few weeks now. Tony, it scares the hell out of me.”

“I can understand. After I saw Chucky for the first time, when I was..”

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I have not had a single good night’s sleep Tony.” Just thinking about sleep, precious sleep, made me groan in misery.

His face suddenly lit up like he had an epiphany, which was good, because I definitely needed some help. His grip on my hands released and he quickly began rummaging in his brown leather messenger bag, or “man-purse” as I so lovingly called it. Within seconds he produced the object of his desire in his clenched fist. His face showed satisfaction and mine confusion.

Listen,” he started, while thrusting out his clenched fist toward me across the table. He unfurled it, palm up. Two tiny pills sat there in his palm. “Take one of these. Tonight. They are good. Much stronger than the last ones. You will sleep like a baby and wake up in the morning.”

“What are they?” I asked. I plucked them from his hand and gave them my own eye of scrutiny. “They look a little different than the previous ones.”

He gave me a sagelike look. “They work better than the last ones.”

I nodded. I would do whatever it took to get a good night’s sleep.

“You know I have insomnia. These put me right out, even better than the last pills. Just give them a good twenty minutes to work their magic.” His look grew more serious. “Don’t drive on them. You take one tonight, and one tomorrow night and I will get you more, kay?

“Okay,” I replied sheepishly. I held onto these pills like a life preserver. Thankfully no one was watching because they would have probably thought this was some kind of drug deal going down.

After placing the magical pills in my pocket I decided to say goodbye to Tony. I slipped my feet back into my dressy black pumps and left. Tony was usually pretty good and I felt confident that his pills would help. Also, I didn’t have time to dwell on my dreams and lack of sleep. I had to be at a bridal shoot with my camera in about an hour. I was dressed to kill in my sexy heels, and I had my camera bag with my gear.

I didn’t even think of my photography as work. I enjoyed getting dressed up and getting paid to do something I love, something I didn’t feel pushed to do. I could really care less about the money. It, to me, was really about the art. The true payoff wasn’t the money. The payoff came in the form of the happy faces from my clients and the way they cried when they saw my finished work. That made it worth it and gave me a sense of accomplishment. I had been doing photography since I was small and now since I was doing freelancing, and it paid the bills, I felt accomplished in life.

*

If you have ever owned a Porsche then you know just how thrilling it can be to be behind the wheel of one. When my photography really started taking off, and I started shooting more weddings and pin up shoots, I was able to purchase one for myself. I paid in cash. That was an amazing feeling, as was the feeling I had today being behind the wheel of this fine example of Italian engineering. I swiftly ran through the gears of my little black 911, dancing through the mid morning Seattle traffic. Within minutes I found my exit and I was zipping toward the coast.

The shoot with the bride went amazing, as expected. We did it right smack dab on the beach in Edmonds amidst some super tall evergreens. The smell was heavenly. The beautiful vista was glorious. Indeed, I felt that fierce sense of longing that every girl has etched into their genes, that one special feeling that makes you yearn to be a bride when you are among those in love. It’s a given. The fire inside grows and you want to be her, to feel what she is feeling. Being alone sucks. Stacy, the bride-to-be looked positively divine in all the poses I had her do. Several times during the shoot I had to wipe my eyes to stop from tearing up. She looked that immaculate. The salty air of the Pacific was heavy with the crispness that spring brings to the Northwest. The breeze that filtered between the trees was small, but just enough to bring added romanticism to the shoot. Time passed efficiently and swiftly, and by the time I finished the bridal shoot it was about four in the afternoon.

“Thank’s Stacy. I honestly can’t wait to do your wedding tomorrow. You are gonna love your pics. These ones from today rocked!” I said with a jubilant smile. We were walking back to our cars and my dslr camera was hanging around my neck with a full memory card. “Give me about a day or two to get your disc ready from today’s shoot and tomorrow’s ceremony. I need a little time to edit these pics.”

“You are the best,” she replied while we walked side by side through the trees toward the road that ran along the coast. “I can’t wait to post some online.”

“I will get you some teasers out to your email tonight.”

Her smile was infectious and she looked so exquisite in her modern style white dress. It had a deep, plunging, decolletage paired with a low cut back. Paired with her illustrious golden ringlets of hair, she took my breath away, especially with the smile she shot back when I told her that she would have teasers possibly tonight. That always gets them.

“Thank you so much!” she sounded bubbly. You are the very best Amber.” She hugged me close and whispered in my ear, “I can’t believe you are single. You are amazing.”

She had a point.

Why was I single?

She stood by her small red car, hugging me close, while I couldn’t escape the longing to be with someone. Her words drilled deep into my soul. I was lonely. All I really had was Tony, and that wasn’t nearly enough.

*

When I finished putting my equipment away on the passenger side seat of my car, where I always todd my camera bag after a shoot, I went to the driver’s side, opened my door, sat down, took my black flats off, and put my pumps back on before closing the door. It was a ritual. I did this every time I did an outdoor shoot. I love shooting outdoors, especially while living here in the Seattle area, but heels are not so great for traversing the Pacific Northwest’s ample woodlands.

“Santeria” by Sublime, one of my most favorite songs the nineties, was playing on my car stereo and doing quite the job of taking me back to my youth. Today had been such a great day so far. I didn’t feel like anything could ruin it. It couldn’t get much better. Maybe I wouldn’t have any of those dreams again. Maybe. That was my last thought before shifting gears and heading onto the highway. The coast was left behind me in my rearview mirror.

Thankfully, I had barely eluded the five-o-clock traffic. Traffic can be quite the misery around Seattle if you get stuck in it. I pulled into the driveway of my little single story house on Colby Avenue, still humming the tunes from my car as I got out. Before going in I checked my mail at the mailbox which is at the end of my driveway. The little red flag was standing up like a bright red erection. That thought actually made me laugh out loud a little as I opened the mailbox door. Who thinks up s**t like that? This girl.

“Just junk,” I muttered. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I walked to my door while flipping through countless advertisements about mattresses, beer, and DirectTV.

After opening the front door I tossed the junk mail in the trash can on the inside and kicked my heels off after shutting the door. One of the major liberties of living alone is the ability to toss your s**t just where the f**k you want to. I’m definitely not a neat girl, I thought to myself with a wry grin. My stomach gave a low rumble announcing its opinion that it was pretty damn agitated with me for choosing to skip lunch today. I chose work. I just wanted to get the shoot done and while I should have stayed a few extra minutes at Starbucks to buy something to munch on, I didn’t. Now my tummy was pissed.

“Popcorn?” I asked myself, or my stomach if you want to get technical. I received another rumble in response. I needed something fast and popcorn, while not dinner or filling, was something, and that something took only a minute and a half to make.

Since I happened to be effectively single (It’s a long story there, suffice to say he was a dirt back and I left him) I could do what I wanted. Eating popcorn as a pre dinner snack was something I didn’t have to ask permission for. Neither was leaving my heels by the front door. I skipped to the stainless steel fridge and snatched the box of popcorn I had stowed on top. I stretched with all my might to get at the box that had been pushed back. It sucks being short.

“Shoulda’ kept my heels on,” I grumbled to myself under my breath.

When I was done making a fool of myself (Thankfully no one was watching) trying to grab my popcorn, I finally got the little damn blue box of buttery goodness. Then my cat, Andrew, decided to make his presence known. I was assaulted by a frantic series of desperate sounding mews, whines, and of course, being pushed by his fluffiness. Such is the life of living with a fat kitty. He was probably hungry. I glanced at the metal bowl on the floor. Empty. Bingo.

I gave him a sad face.

“Aww, mommy’s little kitty is hungry?” I said with a giggle, causing him to mew even louder this time. I set the box of popcorn down and went to the cupboard. “You better appreciate this, little fella.”

Thankfully, I didn’t have to stand on my tiptoes to get the damn cat food. I retrieved it and dumped a heaping amount into his bowl.

Not even a single mew of thanks.

Figures. Typical male.

The plan for tonight was a little popcorn and then some beer and pizza. I ate the popcorn first because I have this unfortunate tendency to eat everything in sight, so I do a bit of pre-eating. It’s all fun and games until your jeans don’t fit anymore.

With a self satisfied smile I took up my usual spot on the couch. I had the same brown couch since I moved out when I was eighteen. It was ugly as sin, but it was mine. It was also my first adult possession and was a gift from my mom and dad who live a bit farther south than I in Tacoma. I settled into the nook created by years of sitting in the same spot, and proceeded to search for something to watch on television. There wasn’t jack s**t on television tonight. I decided to grab a beer now.

Oh well, I thought to myself with a heavy sigh. No better time than now than to check my more than likely overflowing email inbox. As a photographer, and part time writer, my inbox was constantly assaulted by emails. I fetched my tablet from the top of the glass coffee table in front of me and loaded my social networking sites to proceed to tell the Internet how satisfied I was with today’s shoot, my popcorn, my beer, and the pizza I would soon order. The inbox had all the usual bullshit money scams and pharmaceutical nonsense that my spam filter thankfully took care of, and a few messages from prospective clients. Looks like this would be a busy spring.

As soon as I pulled my profile up one my main social site, I was greeted by a message from a cute looking guy. Now this is something not unexpected. This girl does get her share of likes, unwanted friend requests, and of course the dreaded d**k pics, but this truly was a cute guy. He was also “real” because he was Tony’s friend as well. I had seriously been crushing on this guy for a hot minute now and to finally get an email from him definitely raised the temperature in the room a few degrees.

“Well, hello gorgeous.” My voice was low and throaty. I almost purred like a cat as I read his message aloud. “Amber, this is Tony’s friend Steven. Remember me?”

You bet your ass I do.

“I was going to ask you if I could possibly book you for some headshots? Maybe I can buy you some coffee first?”

A wide grin spread across my face (As I imagined my legs would do for this guy if ever given the chance. Sorry, my mom didn’t raise me to be so vulgar, but it’s my story and I will tell it how I please). This was amazing.

“Mister Steven,” I responded to myself. “I have definitely been waiting for you.” I began to write something after a long pull of my beer.

This was a definite criteria for a first date. He asked me to coffee first! I was thrilled to be able to go out with him. At least it wasn’t another lame pickup attempt. Coffee was harmless, right?

Well, maybe it was a pickup attempt.

I didn’t give a s**t though. I wanted him.

I typed out my reply: “Okay, Steven, or Steve? I remember you from Tony’s parties. Sounds good to me! Is Friday good? That is my only free day for the next two weeks.” Today being Wednesday should give me ample time to prepare for his shoot after the wedding shoot I had booked tomorrow.

“Please say yes,” I whispered hopefully while tapping the send button.

Please.

My love life, and s*x for that matter, was virtually nonexistent and was pretty much limited to the occasional trashy erotica I indulged in. My s*x life was the words I read, the smut I watched, and the drawer full of battery operated friends I had. At least I am being honest, right? I could definitely use some excitement. I mean I did have a nice home, popcorn, and Andrew, but mommy does need to get laid.

After doing everything I needed to on the Internet I decided to return to the television surfing. It took a while until I finally managed to find something worthwhile to watch. I ended up settling for one of those reality shows. This one was about tattooing. I thought a bit about my own tattoo, my only one in fact, a single silhouette of a small girl floating into the sky holding on to a big purple balloon. It was on my right shoulder. I watched a gorgeous blonde on the show get a floral piece done up on her chest. It made me envious. I wanted more ink done, but with my schedule I never had enough time. I crunched away on my popcorn and thought about adding some birds above the balloon and having them go up toward my neck. I also thought about getting two little doves on the backs of my upper thighs. That was when Andrew, patron cat saint of annoyance, decided in his little kitty brain it was time to jump into my lap.

“Off, Andrew,” I ordered sternly, while pulling him off me, despite mews of protest.

After about an hour of killing brain cells with beer and the Kardashian’s help, I recalled that I had to get up and paint my nails before turning in. I had to get to sleep early tonight. Tomorrow was Sunday and it would be here all too quick. So, I shut the television off, tossed my empty beer into the trash can in the kitchen and walked into my bedroom to set about painting my nails. I sat down in front of my old cherrywood vanity, the one my grandmother gave to me before passing, and selected a shade of red that I particularly loved. My fingers were soon crowned by crimson jewels. Stacy’s wedding was tomorrow and I needed to look good. I had selected a short but simple looking red dress that I deemed classy enough to attend a wedding in. The dress matched my shade of polish so that was a plus as well. When I finished getting my outfit together, I glanced longingly at my dark wooden four-poster and thick white down comforter. I wanted to be in there so bad.

Sigh.

Then I recalled something of vital importance.

The two little blue pills.

They were my insurance against anything bad happening to me in my dreams, insurance to keep this great day I was having transform into a great night of sleep. I looked at the clock on my bedside table. Nine thirty. I had to be in bed soon if I was to be worth a damn tomorrow. I hurried to my fridge, almost tripping over Andrew in the hall who was on the way into the bedroom, and grabbed a Diet Coke. With light spilling out from the stainless steel fridge, I took one of the little blue pills and tossed it into my mouth, washing it down with a generous gulp of soda.

Done.

My soda was left on the black granite countertop while I turned on some rock music, courtesy of the bluetooth speaker connected to my cell phone. I started drawing the bath and threw a pink bath bomb, which started fizzing immediately and field the bathroom with a glorious floral bouquet. I also squeezed in a bit of cucumber melon bubble bath and watched the bubbled quantify exponentially. I saw Andrew trying to squirm his way into the bathroom so I went and shut the door prior to peeling my skinny jeans and panties off and settling in to the aromatic kiss of the heavenly scented water.

It was sheer bliss, I decided with a small moan of pleasure that escaped my lips while I slid into the sudsy comforting water. Ecstasy. Now this truly was the life of a single girl. I had my soda next to me, which I had moved to the tile floor, and I took a small sip. Goosebumps prickled up and down my flesh. I revelled in the water’s warm embrace, while leaning back to relax, my skin slick with the velvety softness.