She came first for Ellie. I will never forget that phone call, the sound of complete anguish in her brother’s voice. I had been friends with Ellie since high school, but we had only been seeing each other for about a year after graduation. Tears ran down my face during the interrogation down at the police station. Just when I thought I had finally found love…the one person I cared about the most had been violently taken from me. They wouldn’t tell me how she had died; But, once it was obvious that I had had nothing to do with my girlfriend’s murder, I was allowed to leave. I was so stricken with torment that I did not even attend her funeral.
Losing Ellie messed me up. I didn’t want to see anyone else after that but, God forgive me, I did. I started talking to Brenda when I was 21. I met her after bumping into her at a cafe and spilling her coffee; I insisted on buying her another drink and we hit it off from there. Poor, poor Brenda. If I had known then what I was condemning her to, I would have just turned and ran as fast as I could from the coffee shop, never looking back. Though it was hard initially to let her in, Brenda and I hit it off; I found that familiar feeling creeping up, the L word, and I planned on telling her exactly how I felt. I had never had a chance to do so with Ellie; I swore I’d never make that mistake again.
I cooked a nice steak and shrimp dinner for the two of us, bought a huge bottle of red wine and lit candles at my apartment for the evening. Brenda was absolutely glowing when she arrived, wearing a beautiful black dress, her dark hair hanging in ringlets around her face. I had only stepped into the kitchen for a second; I was pouring up two glasses of wine when, suddenly, the apartment got incredibly hot and stuffy out of nowhere. I heard the footsteps, slow and labored, just before Brenda screamed; A horrible, soul-inflicted scream.
I ran out of the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks; Something heinous was approaching my girlfriend. She was about six feet tall, draped in a disgusting, stained cloak that may have once been white. Though the hood was up, and she was turned slightly away from me, I could see horrid, lank gray hair hanging out, making me wonder at first if some sort of old, homeless woman had broken into my apartment. A terrible stench had invaded the room, much like the heat, and I fought back the sudden urge to throw up, forcibly swallowing my vomit back down. The woman’s arm was outstretched, her haggard, gray hand reaching for Brenda, who was hunched up in terror on the couch.
I wish I could say that I acted; I wish I could say that I was a hero, and had tackled the woman; But something deep within me knew that this thing was not human, or, if it ever had been, it wasn’t anymore. I stood transfixed and watched in pure horror as the woman flexed her fingers and Brenda levitated into the air, as though she were a marionette doll. She kicked and screamed, shaking her head as tears rolled down her face. Still, the creature did not falter; I wish that it would have been quicker, or that I had closed my eyes. But she was slow, taking her time as she dug her way through Brenda’s chest. My mouth hung open as I watched the woman rip out my lover’s heart; I swear I will never forget the sound of it still beating, echoing throughout the now silent room. Brenda, in shock, only stared at the woman before her eyes shifted to me. Then her head lolled, and her body fell back onto the couch. She did not so much as look in my direction before, taking Brenda’s heart with her, she began padding towards the wall. She walked right through it, and the smell, heat, and now my beautiful Brenda, were gone. There was no fighting the vomit now. I fell to my knees, hurling, and though I don’t remember doing so, I eventually called the cops.
One dead girlfriend is tragic; Two dead girlfriends is a pattern. I was handcuffed and booked at the police station; I had to endure yet another intense interrogation, though this one was much worse, given the fact that I had been at home with Brenda. They grilled me over and over, asking the same questions, accusing me of killing her and asking me why I had done it. I don’t know how many hours I spent there, but I won’t lie to you, I felt a sort of comfort locked up all night with them; I was terrified of being alone.
Of course, none of my fingerprints could be found on Brenda, and no murder weapon matched the ferocity of the wound. I know they didn’t believe my story about her, but I didn’t care. I spent many nights lying awake, now a social outcast, wondering what she was and why she had come for the last two women I had allowed myself to get close to. I had many nightmares about Ellie and Brenda, the two of them glaring at me across a desolate graveyard, massive holes in their chests. I could feel them judging me, and my shame brought me to my knees. But she was the one who lurked in my head the most, and I often imagined her floating outside my window, her gray hair flowing in the wind as she peered inside at me.
I obviously didn’t pursue any other relationships after this. I actively avoided talking to women if I could, and eventually left town. I went to work and came home, becoming a complete recluse. I never turned to alcohol, though now I find that I wish I had. Because despite all my care, all my years spent alone, I accidentally did it again. I began playing online games with a person I initially thought was a guy; We were a great duo and played together often. It was only after a week or two of us chatting that I discovered that my new friend was a girl; I was hesitant at first, for obvious reasons, but I eventually allowed myself to have some joy in my life. Who the hell falls in love through a computer screen, right?
It took less than a year. We chatted often, and, eventually, began to have zoom calls with each other. She told me her name was Stephanie; we would talk for hours and hours on end, and, I confess, it felt good to feel good. My nightmares were far less frequent now and I began to wonder if I had ever really seen her at all. Maybe a crazy old woman really had just broken into my place that night. My mind had just been unable to comprehend the fact that I had just watched my girlfriend get senselessly murdered; Ghosts or spirits or walking dead people didn’t exist. It felt great to finally get a grip on myself. I hope God has mercy on my soul.
I was up late one night, having one my usual video calls with Stephanie. She was sitting at her computer desk, and I could see her Hello Kitty-themed room and all that entailed behind her; I was sitting in my livingroom, trying to tape up my glasses for the millionth time.
“Oh come on, I think you look just fine without them,” Stephanie said, but I shook my head, staring down at the ancient spectacles.
“I don’t know why I haven’t just gotten new ones by this point, procrastination is going to be the death of me I swear.”
When I looked back at the screen I saw her. Though it had been years, the specter was unmistakable; long, ragged cloak, flowing gray hair. Stephanie’s room was dark so I was still unable to see her face; But she was simply standing several feet behind Stephanie, over by her bedroom door, watching silently. My heart dropped and my tongue turned to mush in my mouth; Stephanie was still smiling, completely unaware of the thing that did not belong, which had begun to walk towards her.
“Sheesh, Rocky must have farted again!” she said, referring to her dog. “I don’t know what he’s gotten into-“
I couldn’t let it happen again. It took every muscle in my body to force my mouth to work, but I did it.
“She’s right behind you!”
Stephanie turned around just as she was nearly upon her. She had time to scream just once before the woman, without laying a finger on her, tossed her out of view of the computer screen.
“Noooo! No you bitch you leave her alone, you leave her alone!”
The woman remained standing in view of the camera, though all I could see was the lower part of her torso. She reached down for the screen and all I could hear was Stephanie’s screams as, suddenly, my own computer screen cracked and went black, gray, foul-smelling smoke rising into the air.