Midnight Visitor

POV: Echo

Slow, steady footsteps on the basement stairs jar me from my sleep. My bed, if you can call it that, is nothing more than a thin foam mattress on the damp basement floor. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I flip onto my back, focusing on slowing my racing heart.

There is no way it can be him, absolutely not possible. He is away for meetings in another pack and isn't due back for another couple of days.

My eyes dart to the long, narrow window above the laundry machines. The half-moon shining high in the sky tells me it is nowhere near morning yet. I turn my head and look toward the door; the steps still coming down.

I quickly glance around the basement, visualizing the industrial-sized washers and dryers, massive laundry folding table, multiple shelves, varying sorted dirty piles, and baskets of folded laundry.

Even though it's too dark to actually see anything, I spend so much time down here that I know exactly where everything is. I already know there is nowhere to hide down here. Unless I count my measly bathroom, which I don't.

However, I do seriously debate hiding in the galvanized steel trough that they call my bathtub. It's quickly vetoed when the panic of being held underwater until I pass out floods through me. That idea backfired horribly the last time I tried it.

I freeze when the person stops just outside the basement door. The sound of the door being unlocked, and the doorknob turning snap me back to the present.

Sucking in a deep breath, I force my body to remember how to breathe, desperately wishing I could just disappear.

'Please be someone looking for clean sheets… Please don't be him, please don't be him.' I mentally chant while listening to the door slowly swing open, as though whoever opened it was in no hurry to enter the room.

My body reacts first, trembling like a leaf the moment his scent drifts across the room. The scent of cedar mixed with vanilla fills me with a nauseating dread. He is back far too early for it to be for good reasons.

I listen as he steps into the room, now light on his feet. He firmly shuts the door, locking it with his personal key, one no one else has a copy of. No one will be interrupting whatever he has planned.

Straining my ears, I listen for his movements but hear nothing after he puts the key back in his pocket. This is what he enjoys, prowling in the dark while leaving me trembling in my bed, waiting for his wrath.

Not able to stand it anymore, I raise my head and look around the dark, silent basement. I shivered, still fully clothed, so tired I hadn't even pulled my thin blanket over myself before falling asleep.

Sitting up fully, I strained my eyes and ears, trying desperately to locate him in the dark. I scoot back on my mattress until my back presses against the cold wall, grounding me.

The only thing I can think about is getting to my flashlight. Being a werewolf, I shouldn't even need the help of a flashlight to see in the dark, but my heightened senses have been weak at best, and almost non-existent at worst.

Stretching my hand to the right, I reach for the shelf that holds everything I own in this world. A couple of faded t-shirts, and even more worn-out leggings. Socks with holes, stretched-out bras, and panties. Several ponytails, a hairbrush that's missing more bristles than it has, a toothbrush that's well past its prime.

Skimming across my belongings, I search for the spot where I tucked the forbidden object for safekeeping. I hesitate when I find it, knowing using it now will without a doubt cost me dearly.

Rippling across the room like a suffocating wave, his aura of unbridled rage slams into me. His meeting did not end well, and I must have been the first stop after returning.

Breathless and on the verge of complete and utter panic, I snatched the flashlight from the shelf and held it to my chest. I push the ON button and squint past the glaring light, trying to see the surrounding room.

Sweeping the light in a wide arc around the room to the left, I saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. If it wasn't for his scent burning my nostrils, I would truly believe I had dreamed of his arrival.

Continuing past the door, I sweep over the shelves full of clean sheets, and then I finally find him. Leaning against my bathroom doorframe, only a couple of feet away from me.

He grins menacingly as the scent of my terror permeates the air around us. It feels as though all of the air has been sucked from my lungs as the light bounces off his glaring blue eyes.

I stare at him, panic flowing through every part of my body, waiting for him to make the first move. The beam of light jumps violently in my shaking hands as I desperately try to think of a way out.

"You shouldn't have that, now, should you?" His voice is quiet, some would say charming even. But I know better, I can hear the untold threat of his words, I know what it means to have something in my possession that I'm not supposed to have.

Jerking my head side to side, I blink away my tears before they can fall. He's there instantly, jerking me into the air, feet dangling, struggling to breathe as he lifts me by the throat.

My flashlight shatters as it bounces across the floor, thrusting us into darkness. Unable to see or breathe, I grip his hand with both of mine and thrash around, trying to break free of his grip.

"Oh Echo, the scent of your fear is delicious!" he growls, pulling me closer. He moves forward, slamming me into the wall and pinning my body with his.

Loosening his grip on my throat, he runs his nose along my collarbone, stopping where my neck meets my shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he scents me, purring at the smell of my panic.

Gasping, I hold the hand around my throat tightly, my mind goes blank as I try to think about something else. I have a well-built safe place designed for nights like tonight.

His free hand skims its way under my shirt, icy chills sending shock waves of disgust throughout my body everywhere he touches. Sensing that I'm not mentally present, he drags a claw across my ribs, forcing me to be a part of this twisted game he likes to play.

Unable to hide in my safe place, my body reacts instinctively. My hands release the hand around my throat, one grabbing and halting the wandering hand under my shirt, and the other pulling back and slapping him.

My shocked apologies are cut off as he tightens his grip around my throat, drawing his hand from under my shirt, he wipes the tears from my eyes as bright white spots begin to dance across my sight.

"I am going to have some fun tonight." He breathes, running his nose along my jaw, nipping sharply at my ear. I shudder, a whimper caught in my throat as the lack of oxygen plunges me headfirst into nothingness.