Danika

Danika
by Timothy Alan
2008


    It was a beautiful evening in mid-August with just enough of a breeze off the ocean to keep the pleasant heat from turning into an unpleasant mugginess. The French Quarter was filled with a wonderfully eclectic mix of street musicians, tourists, students on summer holidays, and the diverse blend of locals that makes the Big Easy so unique. 
    A woman slowly wound her way through the crowd; smiling and enjoying the spectacle around her. She was much less a spectator than a part of it however; she blended into the crowd with ease. As striking as she was, she was noticed and then forgotten about in moments. Whether it was a native skill, a simple reality of New Orleans, or a little of both did not matter to her in the least. Whatever the cause, it suited her well.
    She loved New Orleans in the summer, but was especially fond of Bourbon St. There was a positive energy there that seemed to emanate from the paving stones themselves. Everything was music and dancing and costumes and celebration of being. This was a city that loved life so much that they even turned mourning into a party.
    A beautiful woman, she had thick red hair that fell in waves just past her shoulders, and deep green eyes that lit up when she smiled. They were eyes that were easy to get lost in, as no few men had (not to mention a few women). As she walked, her thin summer dress clung and shifted against her curves in precisely the right way, so that you were given just a hint of what lay underneath. 
    As she walked up the street she basked in the revelries around her. Smiling at a street performer, she won a grin and a wink in return. She stopped to admire a group of jazz musicians playing on a corner, and after a few moments, glanced at her watch.
7:15
    “Time to go”, she thought to herself, and started up the street again.

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    As she approached the Bourbon St Bar and Grill she looked up at the patio. Ryan was sitting at a small table overlooking the street, sipping what looked like a Caesar. As she watched, he stirred the drink with the celery stick, and then bit off the end absently, eyes far away as if he was lost in thought.
    “God he’s cute”, she thought to herself with a smile.
    She had been in town for a week, and had spent 4 days with him already. They had met at a bar much like this one, and he had pursued her with the single-mindedness of a predator ever since. Not that she minded. She was used to men being a little intimidated by her beauty and confidence, and found it refreshing to have someone take the lead and treat her like a prize for a change.
    As she approached the table he looked up and their eyes met.
“Danika”, he said, and the look in his eyes put butterflies in her stomach.
“Tonight is the night”, she thought to herself, and the butterflies fluttered even faster.

    After spending a relaxed evening having dinner and drinks, they found themselves walking; admiring the old houses and the stately ancient trees, but mostly each other. His hand slipped into hers, and she felt the butterflies stir again. As they strolled, content in each others company, she thought to herself that she couldn’t ever remember being so happy.
    She glanced at Ryan, and noticed that he was staring at her with a funny little smile.
“What?” she said with a little laugh, and returned the smile.
“You are beautiful” he said, and the look he gave her made her feel like a deer being stared down by a cougar – She loved it.
    Stepping into her, he looked down into her eyes; he was large, intimidating, and her legs quivered in response. He reached up with his left hand and turned her mouth up to his, gently and forcefully.

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    An hour later they found themselves in front of Ryan’s apartment building. As he pulled out his key, he looked at Danika, as if for confirmation to keep going. She reached up around his neck with both hands and pulled his mouth down to hers. The butterflies stirred again, this time with urgency. When she pulled back she looked up into his eyes.
“Let’s go up” she said softly and with more than a little exigency.
    Ryan nodded, and she could see both the shared urgency in his eyes, and something else that almost gave her pause. Abruptly the feeling was gone, and there were just the butterflies, calling to her with their need. He held the door open for her, and guided her in, hand at the small of her exquisitely shaped back.
    As they walked up the stairs to his apartment, the butterflies in her stomach were incessant, as if they had a life of their own. Something did not seem right, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Troubled, she mulled it over in her mind as they approached his door, and came to the conclusion that she was just apprehensive about someone else being in control for once. She laughed at herself inwardly, and slipped her arm around his waist, letting him guide her.
    This was a whole new experience for her; he was strong - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was being conquered. Despite her unease, Danika was truly enjoying the experience.
    He opened his door, and as he started to lead her through the butterflies redoubled their frenzy. Despite their forceful pull, she had a deep sense of foreboding that could not be explained. Something was terribly wrong. The door closed behind her and she looked around, feeling danger, but not understanding the source. Ryan turned to her, and leaned in to kiss her again. Danika started to pull back in fear, and then stopped herself. She felt nothing from him but passion and need, and she silently reprimanded herself for being nervous and foolish. She returned his kiss, matching his passion and then some. They slowly made their way towards the bedroom, kissing and groping and undressing along the way. They reached the bedroom and he slowly removed her dress, running his hands over her curves. She shivered in pleasure and anticipation, and the butterflies roared, but seemingly in tandem now with her needs. He pulled her close, and as her hands ran across his bare chest, he looked down into her eyes; greedily, hungrily.
    Slowly and forcefully he moved her backwards onto the bed, until she was pinned on her back, arms held down by his strong hands. She squirmed, but could not move. He smiled down at her with a glint in his eyes.
“You’re mine now”
    The butterflies exploded, and Danika’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen.
“no...” she whimpered.
    She could feel the “butterflies” for what they really were now. A curious pulling sensation grew inside her, and she felt herself begin to slip out of our space-time. Ryan appeared to slow down, then almost stop, and she felt that she was viewing the world through a filter. Abruptly the pulling stopped, and became something closer to a channeling. The world rushed back into clear focus, and she could feel the portal open inside her, and within the portal – It.
    Ryan stopped and looked at her in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” he started to ask, the concern evident on his face. His voice faltered as a black film danced across her eyes.
“Danika?” he said, uncertainly.
    A mist began to coalesce around her head; black and translucent, like a halo born of darkness. Ryan began to shake, and found that he couldn’t move.
“Danika?” he said again; quiet, small, frightened.
    Coils of the mist reached out toward him. Thick and greasy and yet seemingly ephemeral, the tentacles stretched for him, and he tensed and twisted in the face of its advance. The mist encircled him, tendrils wrapping about him almost tenderly, stroking him like a lover. He rolled onto his back, and Danika scrambled off the bed, hurriedly picking up her discarded clothing. As she dressed she backed into a corner by the door, watching in horror.
    He writhed on the bed, a scream on his lips but unable to escape. Completely encased in a translucent, black cocoon, the dark tentacles visibly caressed his body underneath. She could hear It in her head, starting to feed, and was repulsed. Her flesh crawled, and she had to suppress the urge to vomit. Finally his screams broke free, as he thrashed and kicked on the bed in agony. She knew that the screams didn’t matter; he wasn’t in his apartment anymore. She had felt the shift within herself, and was hearing both his screaming and It’s greedy slurping in her head as much as with her ears.
    As she watched him slowly die (bitterly, impassively), she wondered when it would be her turn. She knew it would happen eventually. One day she would be the meal and her intended victim would become the new slave, just as had happened with her so long ago. As It fed it sighed it’s pleasure in her head, confirming her thoughts without words.
    Eventually his screams turned to frantic and despairing whimpers, as Ryan began to realize that it was not just his body that was being consumed. Danika sensed that she was separated enough to leave, and she ripped open the door and fled the apartment, his piteous cries echoing in her mind, her own cries pouring from her throat.

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    She raced through the hallway and down the staircase, until she found a cool, dark corner underneath. She huddled on the floor, back into the corner, and sobbed. Death did not bother her much; she would welcome simple death. It was the loss of her soul that terrified her. She would feed victim after victim to her dark master (her horrible, vengeful, evil master), to prevent that. Maybe, just maybe, if she was a good hunter for It, It would let her die and keep her soul when it was her time. Even the thought of going to Hell for her role was an afterthought. She would rather continue existing in Hell then be consumed body and soul by that putrid, hateful thing.
    She sat in the gloom for what seemed an eternity, listening to Ryan’s slow, agonizing death and staring blankly at the grimy basement wall. Her initial sobbing petered out and left her feeling empty and drained. Tears still trickled down her blank, expressionless face as she waited, until eventually even they stopped, leaving just a light track mark through the small amount of makeup that Danika used.
    An hour later she was recovered enough to leave the building. As Danika walked up the street a smile slowly crept onto her face. It was a tentative, uncertain smile, but a smile nonetheless. She started out shakily, but slowly steadied as she walked.
Gradually, the sun began to shine brighter, and she noticed the sounds of the city around her with renewed clarity. She breathed deeply, and savored the myriad smells surrounding her. The scent of flowers carried on the breeze from the park up the block, the mouth-watering smells wafting from the corner food stands. She was alive, and she immersed herself in every instant of it.
    She could still feel it feeding, but it’s savage, ravenous grunts had faded to a contented moaning in the back of her mind. Abruptly it reached out and stroked her, and Danika shivered violently. Its presence was a horrible thing; an alien, metallic intelligence that made her skin crawl with it’s very being. It was the essence of rotting flesh, of maggots and slime and the taste of sulphur, somehow come alive. It was not a physical being, but neither was it entirely spiritual. With the help of the connection with It’s human host, It existed both within and outside of this reality; an ephemeral form with the strongest physical manifestation. It stroked her mind with its presence, as if to gently remind her; I am still here, and you belong to me.
    With an act of will that had become second nature (and was in no small part aided by her dark master), she pushed her awareness of it to the farthest recesses of her consciousness; not entirely out of mind, but close enough that she could pretend. It was an exercise born of desperation, a biological and psychological imperative. Danika quite literally lived life as if each moment was her last.
    As the presence faded from her mind, she began to feel herself again. Her walk was infused with energy, and her smile lit up her face. In just a few short moments, all memories of her master were hidden from her consciousness, and she was just a beautiful young woman strolling through a marvelous town on a warm summer evening.

Word count: 2184