Tales of the Blood Moon

The One That Got Away

Natalie Martinattempts to console the blonde-haired, nearly hysterical nurse's aidein her office.

"I was justtalking to him," the blonde says through loud sobs. "Maybe ifI'd -"

"Don't,"Natalie interrupts. "Don't put yourself through that. There wasnothing you could have done." She hands a tissue to the blonde. "Do you want to go home?"

The blonde acceptsthe tissue and shakes her head. "No, but I don't want to stay hereeither."

"Leave,"Natalie tells her, giving the blonde a gentle hug. "Go take careof yourself. Okay?"

"Thanks," theblonde says, smiling weakly and hurrying from Natalie's office.

Natalie takes astep toward her window and looks at the setting sun. The boyfriendof the nurse's aide has just been killed by his own father. Thepolice shot the father when he, after killing his son, wife and evenhis own mother, pulled a gun on them. "Suicide by cop," shebelieves it's called. It's definitely a tragedy, but Natalie hasmore pressing issues on her mind.

Natalie woke uptwo nights ago, covered in sweat and completely panicked. She didn'tknow what had gotten her so unnerved, so she tried to forget about itand go back to sleep. Every time she nearly drifted off, she wouldshoot straight up in her bed, scared out of her mind. Unable to geta decent night of sleep, and assuming she might simply be stressedfrom work, she decided to take a day off and spent all of yesterdayat home.

The day shouldhave been uneventful, but around 4:30 pm, Natalie suddenly feltovercome with fear. A knock at her front door scared her witless fora moment, but she recovered enough to head for her front door. Eachstep seemed like torture and, when she finally reached her door andplaced her hand on the knob, she found she could not turn it. Shebore down on the knob, mustering all her strength. Just as anotherset of rapping echoed through her foyer, Natalie felt the doorknobturn ice-cold. Snatching back her hand and staring at the doorknob,Natalie decided to beat a hasty retreat. Dashing through her houseand throwing open her back door, she was confronted by a black-hairedwoman with steel-gray eyes. The woman, who made no threateninggestures, calmly stated she was familiar with Natalie's life and thatNatalie should reconsider how she's been living. The woman leftbefore Natalie could ask any questions or make any reply whatsoever.

Natalie turns fromthe window and sits at her desk. Her gaze falls across a picture ofher crossing the finish line at a charity marathon in which sherecently participated. She didn't finish anywhere near first place,but she was happy to be able to compete at all. Just over a yearago, she couldn't even walk.

Natalie had beenconfined to a wheelchair ever since she'd gotten into a car accidentwhen she was sixteen, but she never allowed herself to play thevictim. Natalie made a point of rising to meet challenges throughouther life with as much confidence and good cheer as she could muster. During her remaining years of high school and throughout college, shewas greeted by plenty of people who seemed willing to look past hersituation and accept her on her own merits. After college, when shegot a job at this hospital, she found the real world considerablydifferent from college. Nobody ever said anything to her face, butshe was conspicuously left out of social functions and, moreimportantly, promotions. In the beginning, Natalie thought she wassimply succumbing to self-pity and endeavored to work harder. Despite her best efforts, nothing changed. Thirteen months ago,alone at home (as usual) and completely frustrated with her life, shedrank a bit more than she was used to and shouted out that she'd doanything to be able to walk again.

The followingmorning, Natalie crawled out of her bed and into her chair. Her headwas pounding and her whole body itched. She parked herself in frontof her bathroom mirror and flipped on the bathroom light. The lightblinded her, making her headache so much worse that she immediatelyshut it off. The itching had gotten so bad that she began to scratchher legs, chest, back and head. The abrupt realization that her legsitched, and that she could feel herself scratching, stunnedher into complete stillness. Wiggling her toes, she realized it wasno accident. Natalie was so ecstatic that, for several minutes, shelaughed out loud, banged on the arms of her chair and cried tears ofjoy. Natalie considered rushing to work and telling everyone, butsomething seemed to be advising her against that idea. She wasn'tsure why she shouldn't shout the news from the rooftops, but she keptquiet.

A month later shewas fully mobile and confident she'd never need her chair again. Sheno longer had the feeling she needed to hide her ability to walk and,after buying a gorgeous (yet business appropriate) black dress, shestrolled into work, turning heads everywhere. Doctors wereflabbergasted and clamored to discover how she managed such amiraculous recovery. She claimed she treated herself and doors beganopening for her, both literally and figuratively. Both her careerand social life took off. She began to dedicate much of her sparetime contributing to charitable causes and she was declared aninspiration to others. Natalie could not remember a time when shewas happier.

Her happiness wassoon tempered by odd occurrences. She would occasionally wake up inthe morning to inexplicable circumstances. Sometimes her hair wouldbe wet, indicating that she'd showered not long before, yet she'dgone to bed several hours earlier. There were times when she wouldfind articles of clothing among her dirty laundry she couldn'tremember buying while, simultaneously, pieces of clothing she'd hadfor years suddenly went missing. Every now and again, she would wakeup stiff and sore, although she couldn't remember doing anythingstrenuous. Convinced she was not alone inside her own body, Natalietoyed briefly with the idea of researching some means of getting ridof whatever shared her body. She got serious about the idea when sheawoke one morning to find her forearms covered in small scratches,like the kind one might receive from a small, struggling animal - orchild.

Horrified by herdiscovery, Natalie ran to her computer, opened her web browser andbegan looking for someone who might perform an exorcism. However, nosooner than the search results flashed across her screen, Natalie wasovercome by an extreme thirst. Unable to ignore her suddenly parchedthroat, Natalie attempted to rise from her chair and found she wasnumb from the waist down. Being a bright lady and a quick study,Natalie calmly closed her browser window and again attempted tostand. She rose to her feet effortlessly. Natalie was then fullyaware of the price of resistance and decided to accept the oddoccurrences as part of the deal for her mobility. However, thepanic-stricken nights and her recent meeting with the black-haired,gray-eyed woman was causing Natalie to reconsider.

When Natalie wokeup this morning, she found a travel brochure for London (she hasalways wanted to go) as well as copies of travel and hotelreservations from her home printer. She couldn't remember making anyof those reservations, but after the past two nights and the visitfrom the black-haired stranger, she was willing to go along with it. She had some loose ends she needed to tie up at the hospital, so shepushed back her reservations several hours, which sent her anxietysoaring. Carol, one of her favorite custodians, gave her notice thattoday would be her last day so, once Natalie has finished thepaperwork authorizing a replacement, she's out the door and headed tothe airport. Strangely, she thought her anxiety would subside atthis point, but it's worse now than it's ever been.

Natalie exits thehospital and makes her way through the parking garage with notrouble, but the second her fingers brush the handle of her car door,her entire body is thrown violently against the side of the car. Sheslides down the car, unhurt but confused. Natalie rolls onto herback and stares down at her chest. Blood pours from a hole in hershirt. She looks over to see a man approaching her. In one hand hehas a smoking pistol while, in the other, he has a small, glass vial.

"Shoulda kickedthat thing out when Chloe gave you the chance," he says, kneelingbeside her and shaking his head. "As for the thing hidin' insideyou," he says, jiggling the vial a bit, "it's gonna have a newhome in here for awhile till we can figure out how to get it gone forgood."

Natalie isn't inany pain, but she's angry. She's angry that she wound up in awheelchair and that, despite working so hard, she couldn't get asquare deal until she let something into her body that eventually gother killed. Spitefully, she resists the urge to go peacefully andclaws herself loose of her corpse, charging out of her body as thething that hid inside her clings desperately to her dying form. Amoment later, when Natalie finds herself trapped inside the vial, sheunderstands why the thing refused to leave her dead body. As the manrises and walks off, Natalie looks back at her corpse and watches asa murky figure rises from her dead body and slowly disappears. Natalie once felt trapped in her wheelchair, but now wishes she hadthat much freedom again.