Slave To A Monster...|1|...Cruel Beginnings...|1|

When the Sun Sleeps - Underoath


The icy wind rips through your jacket, exposing your skin to the cold touch of winter. You shiver, trotting down the slick sidewalk. Dark rain clouds cover the sun, casting the world into darkness. Loud music blares from one of the apartments in your complex. A gunshot sounds from a distant place, but not distant enough. You jog a little faster, hoping to make it home before anyone sees you. You had forgotten to buy enough groceries this week and you've run out of money from your job, but finding a couple dollars in an old jacket of yours encouraged you to head to a close by convenience store for some food. The now empty chip bag is crumpled and lying in the middle of the street. A police man standing nearby didn't even care. He's more worried about gangs and shootings than littering.

At last your apartment building looms in front of you, the moldy brick seeming more inviting than usual. You let out a small sigh at making it in safety. You hear footsteps behind you. Hopefully it's not one of the gang that calls your apartment building their 'territory.' You duck your head, thankful your fiery red hair is hidden under a hat and you might be able to pass off as a teenage boy from the back. The steps quicken and you sense someone watching you. With a nervous intake of breath, you start off running for the door. Grabbing the cold handle, you fumble with the key around your neck and at last break the string holding it and unlock the door with shaking fingers. The push it open and burst inside, quickly slamming it shut behind you. After turning all the locks, you lean against the door and let out a long breath, your heart racing. That's the third time this week it's sounded like someone was following you. For a brief second you glance around the musty apartment, as if assuring yourself everything is safe. You move over to the worn and sagging green couch and sit down, flipping on the small TV. Your one escape in the place you call your home. The inner city is where you've lived what seems like your whole twenty years, and where you'll probably end up living the rest unless something happens to drastically change it.

The news comes on, but you're too lazy to even change the channel. The plastic-looking newscaster is talking about something; a picture of the city buildings appears behind her. You turn the volume up, blinking sluggishly. "...and in other news the crime rate has soared in the past few weeks. More murders and raping have taken place than ever seen before in our city. Local officials are doing what they can, but they have not been able to track down the perpetrators. Officials advise locking doors and windows and keeping inside your home unless need requires otherwise..." You flip the channel, curling your lip in disgust. You're sick of the same news. You don't want to hear about that stuff, especially after what just happened. You rethink what happened, replaying the details in your mind and trying to find an excuse to believe that no one was following you. The sound of afternoon cartoons blares in your ears. You can't find one.

The phone rings and you nearly jump out of your seat. You turn down the volume and pick up the receiver, cradling it to your ear. "Hello?" None of your friends are home this week, it being Spring Break, and you have no family, so you can't possibly figure out who it could be. Maybe your work is calling to ask you why you didn't show up today.

"Hello, Angela?" An unfamiliar female voice questions.

"Yeah." You answer, wrinkling your brow as you try to figure out who it is.

"This is...a friend." The voice falters, and then shushes someone in the background.

"And my friend's name would be..." You ask slowly, suspicious suddenly.

"It doesn't matter. Listen to me very closely. You'll get a phone call soon inviting you to a party. Do not go.  Please trust me." She's suddenly very quiet. "I have to go. Listen to me. Don't even answer the phone!" You hear a click in your ear, then the steady beep of a disconnected line.

You frown. Nutcase. What was that all about? Her words carried an eerie tone, though. You shake your head. Probably your best friend, Alissa, playing a practical joke. That's all. You turn the volume up on the TV again and allow yourself to succumb to the mind numbing of children's television.

Only a few minutes later the phone rings and you nearly jump a foot off the couch. You eye it distrustfully, remembering the stranger's words. Suddenly, you laugh. You're so gullible. Of course. The voice sounded like Alissa. It had to be her. You pick up the phone, casually greeting the caller. "Yello."

"Hello Angela." A silky voice greets you, almost seductive.

"Hello...Who is this?" You get a strange chill.

"I'm one of...Alissa's friends. She's over at my house. We're having a party tonight. She wanted me to invite you." Something about his voice makes you want to believe him.

"Well...wait, why doesn't she ask me herself?" You narrow your eyes at the phone. This is too much like the prank call from earlier. Maybe this is still part of the joke. You don't like it.

"She's getting ready for the party, and she forgot to tell you, so she asked me to call you while she's busy." He's quick with an answer.

"Well, I got a call earlier telling me not to go to the party. What do you think about that?" You say saucily, testing the water.

He laughs. "That was Alissa. She was trying to play a joke."

You think about it. All that he's said would make sense. "Where's the party? And what's your name?"

He gives you directions, then pauses. "My name is...Jace((Rhymes with Chase)). So, I'll see you at the party?" His voice takes on a hopeful tone.

You smile, trusting him for some reason. He knew your name, Alissa's name, and how Alissa was. It had to be one of her many guy friends. "Sure, Jace. See ya later." You hang up the phone, slightly excited. You haven't been to a party in forever. Somewhere deep inside you, though, a little piece of doubt niggles at you.

Later that evening you look in the mirror at yourself. You hope the only party clothes you own are good enough for this place. Your black and dark pink mid-thigh skirt is loose around your legs, cut at a bias (Sewing term. Means cut diagonally instead of straight) A matching pink halter top clings to you tightly and accentuates your ample cleavage without making you look like a slut. A pair of simple black heels adorns your feet. You pause in your study and stare at your face, softly touching the mirror. To you, your light freckles stand out horribly on your face and that's all you can focus on. But someone else might notice your mid-back length red hair that falls in soft ringlets, your mischievous gray eyes, or your creamy ivory skin. Your freckles only accentuate your features, but you can't see that. You sigh softly and step away from the mirror, putting on the last few touches of your makeup before swinging your purse over your shoulder and moving to the door. You swallow and close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that no one will bother you. At last you give up and put on a calf length black jacket, hoping that no passing stranger will notice your figure and decide to take advantage.

You tuck the loose edges of the jacket around yourself and step outside, trying not to step in the puddles surrounding your apartment. The streetlight illuminates the street and you try to stick to the well-lit areas. You spot a taxi. Calling for it, it pulls up next to the curb. You get in and sigh. "2654 Heather Field." You ask, glancing at the driver. He nods and drives, after a little while dropping you on the curb of the huge house. Loud music sounds from inside and the place is well-lit. Obviously there really is a party. A small smile crosses your face and you move forward quickly, anxious to be inside. Knocking on the front door, you hear someone yell to get the door. It opens at last, showing you a humongous and gorgeous house filled with a bunch of people your age or older dancing and drinking. A petite girl with a nervous smile welcomes you inside. "Hi. You a friend of Jace?" She asks, unable to meet your eyes for some reason.

"Well, he invited me." You say, giving her a strange look and taking off your coat. She's sure acting weird. You think, giving her a half smile. "Is my friend Alissa around?" You ask, glancing across the sea of people.

"I don't know. Check the kitchen." She says, looking away at a guy who stands impatiently, obviously waiting for her. You shiver. He doesn't look very nice. You turn away. It's her decision who she hangs out with. You don't even know her.

You push through the crowd, heading for where the alcohol seems to be coming from. At last you make it to the kitchen and try to avoid the drunk teenagers spilling beer all over. You glance around. You don't see Alissa. A nervous tingle races down your spine. She's got to be around her somewhere.  You think, pushing back out of the spacious kitchen. When you're in the middle of the living room you stop, the music blaring in your ears and gyrating bodies around you. You're getting a headache and you can't find Alissa. Maybe you should leave. A hand taps your shoulder.

You turn around and find yourself staring up into the most beautiful face you've ever seen, framed by slightly curly, shaggy black hair. You blink, entranced by the male's intense blue eyes. He says something and you shake yourself out of your reverie. "What?" You ask, pointing to your ears. "I can't hear over the music."

He leans over and speaks into your ear, his breath tickling your neck. "I said, are you Angela?" His voice sounds oddly familiar.

You nod, furrowing your brow. He speaks into your ear again. "Come with me. You're looking for Alissa, right?" You repeat the nod and follow him through the crowd, anxious to find Alissa.

You can't help staring at the stranger's back. He has broad shoulders and you can see the taut muscles through his tight black button up shirt. He wears a pair of loose black pants and a pair of black Dickies on his feet. Maybe he just likes black a lot. You think, a smirk crossing your face. You suddenly realize he's stopped. You're outside. You must have been too lost in staring at him to notice when you left the house. The yard is dimly lit by the light coming from the house, but you realize you're in the back yard, alone.

"Umm...where's Alissa?" You ask, glancing around.

He turns. "She had to leave, I guess. Sorry." He glances at you, raising one brow. "Does this mean you're going to leave too?"

You hesitate. "I think so. I only came because she...invited..." You falter, suddenly realizing why his voice is familiar. He was the one on the phone. "Jace?" You suddenly ask, deciding to be blunt.

"Yeah. Recognized my voice?" He smiles, but it suddenly seems menacing.

You back up slightly. "Yes. I-I'd better be going." You wish your shoes weren't on, because then it would be easier to bolt out of the yard.

He takes your shoulder in a strong grip. "No, I don't think so." You struggle, trying to jerk away from him. It's as if his hand is made out of steel.

"Let me go!" You demand, digging your heels in and pulling with all your might. You're suddenly released and you fall to the ground, wincing as your tail bone hits the hard ground. "Ow." You groan, trying to get up. Suddenly, Jace is on top of you, pinning your arms to the ground with his knees. You fall back down, staring up at him fearfully.

"Let me go...or...or...I'll scream!" You say, your voice shaking. You should have listened to that stranger and never had come.

He grins. "Go ahead."

You let out an ear piercing scream, but no one inside can hear over the music. You scream again and again, but no one comes. "Now, my turn." He leans forward and covers your mouth. You scream again, but it can hardly be heard. You give way to whimpers as he takes something out of his pocket and shakes it. It's a hypodermic needle. "Now, lie still or this will hurt...what the h*ll, it'll hurt anyway."

You kick up, trying to get him off of you in desperation. It does no good. He smiles again and holds your head steady. Your eyes widen and you let out more whimpers. He slowly presses the needle to your neck, apparently delighting in your fear. Your heart races and you twist, trying to get away from the sharp point. At last he plunges it into your neck, laughing softly as you writhe and scream through his hand. It feels as if an icy fire has entered your veins. At last your pain fades into blackness and the last thing you remember is Jace running his finger along your lips and saying, "Soon..."