For Nevermore Season 1

curled it around the bend of her ear and then down into and through her throat.
    Noella screamed.
    The shadow turned, as if he’d heard Noella, and met Noella’s eyes with his hollow ebony pits, a geyser of blood erupting behind him.
    He moved closer, opening his mouth impossibly wide, and a swarm of darkness swirled from his mouth, tendrils reaching out to seize Noella.

    **

    She woke gasping for breath, back in her bedroom, shaking and covered in sweat.
    Oh my God, that was so realistic!
    She muffled her terror, clasping her hands to her mouth, and breathing heavily into her fingered cup. Noella slowed her breath and stared across the street, hungry for the savior she could feel waiting for her on the other side of the dark gulf.
    Her heart sped up when she saw Dante standing in the window again, lit by the moon above.
    She jumped out of bed and ran to her window, waving, desperate to get his attention. She had to see him up close. She had to ask him what happened at the coffee shop. Had to know what he’d done, and what he was.
    No human can do that.
    She had a million questions, chief among them, whether he was real.
    He stepped back into the darkness of the room and vanished.
    Noella cried out, “No. Don’t go.”
    The darkness outside grew darker, and Noella felt something outside, watching her. But it wasn’t Dante. It was something else. Something deadly, smearing her air with the taint of a threat, made the hairs on her arm stand in a wave. She swallowed hard and yanked the curtains closed.
    Noella returned to bed, and sank deeper beneath the covers, shaking. She wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming, or if she was having another hallucination. Her heart pounded fast, and she felt that old familiar fear creeping over her. She had to get a handle on it before something bad happened.
    What’s happening to me?
    The clock read 3:11 a.m. She had to calm down and get back to sleep. She remembered Dr. Foster’s advice on calming down the attacks. She counted backwards from 100, waiting for sleep to claim her, and hoping no nightmares waited.

    **

    Saturday, October 27
    9:04 a.m.

    Noella woke to an eerie stillness, as the crust of her dreams continued to crumble.
    It felt like Randy was gone from the house, which on a Saturday morning meant something really bad had probably happened. Maybe he got called in to help on her case.
    Noella rubbed her eyes and massaged her temples. Her skin was damp and clammy. She pulled the covers over her head, turned toward the wall, and replayed the nightmares, real and imagined of the past 24 hours.
    Her head was throbbing. She reached to her nightstand, popped the cap off her pills and took one, praying it would work today.
    She forced herself to get out of bed, and do something, anything, to get her mind to stop thinking on everything. She brushed her teeth, showered, got dressed in a tee shirt and sweats, and headed downstairs to find Josie and see how she was.
    Josie was sitting in the living room, Kindle in her hand, but eyes on the TV news.
    Why is the news on this late on a Saturday?
    “Did you know this girl?” her aunt asked, eyes fixed on the TV. The news flashed a picture of Katie Blanchard with the words “AURORA FALLS SLASHER VICTIM 13?”
    The weekend anchorwoman, Colleen Shaw, stared gravely into the camera, asking the reporter on the scene, Shane Billings, to update the audience.

    “School officials are shocked at the discovery of Katie Blanchard’s body this morning in front of Aurora Falls High School. Groundskeepers found her body at 7 a.m., and immediately alerted the police. While Public Information Officer Timothy Bilson has not yet confirmed that Katie is a victim of the slasher, sources tell us that a note from the slasher was found on the girl’s body.”
    “Why aren’t they releasing more information?” Colleen asked.
    “The Sheriff’s Office is saying that they’ll release more details at a noon press conference.”
    “This is believed to be the first child victim of the Aurora Falls Slasher, right?” Colleen asked Shane.
    “Yes, the victim was 16. The Slasher’s youngest known victim prior to today was 35, so as you can guess, the Sheriff’s Office is very concerned, and wants to rule out that this could be a copycat type murder.”

    “Did you know her?” Josie asked again.
    Noella’s voice was a prisoner in her throat. She took a long horrible stride backward.
    No, it can’t be.
    No.
    Josie repeated, “Did you know