A stranger in a dark street
1027 Words
***A year and seven months earlier***
"Wake up, Delilah. We're about to close," said the coffee shop owner, banging the table to get her attention. Startled, she awoke and rubbed her eyes, still feeling drowsy as she tried to regain her composure.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bignell. It's been a long day," Delilah yawned, attempting to shake off the sleep that still lingered in her eyes. She quickly grabbed her handbag and laptop, bidding farewell to the coffee shop before heading home.
The night enveloped her in silence, accompanied only by the moon and stars. The evening air was cool and crisp, teasing her nostrils with each inhalation. Despite her exhaustion, Delilah fought the temptation to succumb to sleep with every laborious step she took through the deserted streets. The stress and mental drain of exam preparation weighed heavily on her, but she remained determined to persevere. She estimated she had about ten minutes until she reached her apartment building, and thoughts of warm hot chocolate and pizza raced through her mind, urging her to quicken her pace.
Suddenly, Delilah froze as a dark figure emerged a few feet in front of her. Goosebumps prickled her skin, fear paralyzing her in place, while her breathing grew rapid. The figure was cloaked in dark clothing, and a hat obscured their face, making it difficult to discern their features due to the dimly lit street. Delilah strained her eyes, desperate for a better view. Each menacing step the figure took, closing the gap between them, tightened her windpipe, making it difficult to breathe. Sweat trickled down her brow, dripping down her face in nervous anticipation.
"He lifted his head to meet her gaze, revealing his face as he towered over her. This was it, she was certain. Of all the ways she imagined dying, meeting her untimely demise at the hands of a stranger on this creepy, dark street, and with an empty stomach, proved to be the least poetic. She couldn't help but ponder what the morning would bring or how long it would take for her body to be discovered.
"My beautiful Mortala, we meet again, although this face you wear is strange to me. I recognize your soul in any skin," the strange man said, causing her pupils to dilate and her bottom lip to quiver. Fear etched delicate contours on her ethereal face, making it difficult for her to string words together. Paralyzed by fear, she managed to stammer, "Who... who are you?"
"Has this lifetime erased me from your memory as well as your heart?" asked the strange man, removing his hat to reveal his face. A smile crept across his features.
He was tall, with a lovely dark beard and smooth, coffee-brown skin. His enchanting eyes, with their odd colors—one honey brown and the other an exceptionally brilliant green—were framed by long, thick lashes. Delilah had never seen anything like his eyes; they were hauntingly beautiful. His presence was as hypnotic as it was chilling and intimidating.
As he gently touched her face, his fingers sent a cold, chilling sensation through her. "I am not Mortala, my name is Delilah. You have the wrong person," she retorted, feeling insulted by the liberties he took, treating her as if they were familiar.
"Don't touch me," Delilah asserted firmly as she stepped back. The flickering street light above them added to the already eerie ambiance.
Terrified, yet brave enough to assert her boundaries, Delilah stood her ground with this total stranger. He chuckled, saying, "Forgive me, little dove, but you are exactly the person I have been searching for," with a smile.
"What do you want from me?" Delilah's throat tightened with fear.
"It took me a while to find you, beautiful Mortala."
"What do you want from me?" Delilah repeated, her voice stern and loud. "Why do you call me Mortala?"
"Soon all things will be revealed to you. I will see you again, but for now, forget you ever spoke to me."
And then, he vanished.
Perplexed, Delilah looked around, unable to remember why she was standing in the middle of the street. She dashed to her apartment, suddenly aware of the dangers of the night. Fear gripped her as she retrieved her keys from her bag, swiftly opening the door and shutting it behind her. A strange sense of unease hung over her, and the skin on her back began to sting and burn.
In the bathroom, she hastily removed her dress and discovered a faint glow on her skin. Strange symbols, in a language she had never seen before, were etched across her spine.
"What the hell?" Delilah screamed, standing in front of the wall-mounted mirror. The pain was unbearable, causing her to grow dizzy, her vision blurred, and she collapsed unconscious onto the floor.
***NEXT MORNING***
The sun's rays hit her face, jolting Delilah awake. She found herself lying naked on the bathroom floor, her mind blank and her head throbbing. Confused about how she had ended up unclothed in her bathroom, she quickly stood up and turned on the shower. As she glanced around her room in search of her phone, she noticed the time—5:47 a.m. With a sense of urgency, she hurried back into the bathroom, determined to shower and get ready for class.
Delilah was a driven junior in college, studying medicine with the ambition of becoming a doctor one day. Witnessing her grandfather's health problems had fueled her motivation. While getting dressed, she noticed the unfamiliar symbols etched onto her back and couldn't help but wonder how they got there. She attempted to recall what she had done the previous day, but her memory failed her. She knew she wasn't the type to get tattoos on a whim. All she could remember was working on her project at the coffee shop and walking back home after the owner woke her up. A gaping void filled her mind, leaving her with a profound sense of emptiness. The sound of her phone alarm broke her trance, snapping her back to reality. She dashed out of her apartment, clutching her handbag and phone tightly.
- Writer
