Celeste laid still, her chest barely rising as her eyes darted beneath the lids. She slowly pried open her eyes, trying to make sense of the jumbled thoughts racing through her mind. Girl, demon─ what was it? She winced as pain shot throughout her skull. Celeste struggled as she pushed her way up and stared at the unfamiliar surroundings. It didn't take long to realize where she was. A hospital. A heartbeat later she jolted upright as a knowing feeling washed over her. She leaped off the bed, gripping her mouth tight as she fled to the bathroom. She dry heaved for several moments. Sweat was cascading down her forehead and into her brow. She hadn’t felt this sick in quite some time.

Shaking it off, she walked over to the sink and drank from the faucet. I must be coming down with something, she thought. Celeste’s throat felt like the surface of the Mojave Desert. No matter how much water she guzzled, she couldn’t quench the thirst. Finally, after what felt like downing an entire gallon, her body felt satiated. She returned to bed, sat down, and stared at the wall in front of her. How did I─ her mind instantly flashed to John. He must have brought me here. Her thoughts were cut short as Celeste recognized the sound of John’s voice followed by a stranger’s.

"How long do you think?" John asked. His voice sounded tense, something wasn’t right.

"Not too far along. We could suppress it, if she’s willing." Celeste strained to hear more. The doctor sounded like her therapist, Dr. Heisman. There was a long pause, and then a sigh. "Thank you for all of your help." John finally whispered.

Soft footsteps padded into the room and she quickly squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to steady her breath as she felt him beside her. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.

"You can stop pretending, I heard you sick in the bathroom." Sheepishly, she opened one eye and looked up at him. "Am I that bad at acting?" She asked, giggling as she stared into John’s soft blues. He brushed back her hair, laughing and caressed her cheek. John leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, breathing heavily into her narrow shoulders. Celeste knew that sigh, it was always the one he did before he had to talk about something he didn’t want to. Now she really was worried.

"We need to talk, don't we?" She asked. Celeste gently pushed him away and gazed into his eyes. You really could tell a lot about a person from their eyes. Her mother hated eye contact, it was considered rude and brash in their culture. But that was the old view─ she had been to Tokyo several times and usually was met with a smile and direct eye contact. Celeste was mostly raised here so it didn’t faze her. In fact, she didn’t like it when someone avoided eye contact. To her it was as good as lying.

Then it dawned on her. Oh crap, the show, all of their plans, “John, the tickets, I’m so sorry, I─” she trailed off, looking at his face. John was silent for a several seconds stroking her hair like he always did when he was thinking of what to say. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, “don’t worry about all of that, it’s just money. For now, let’s try not to think about it,” then added softly, “We’ll talk about it later."

* * *

Celeste sighed in content as she lay in bed. She looked at the delicate silver ring on her finger and grinned. It was a simple, narrow band with a centered red garnet─ her birthstone. Just like the one in your dream, she thought. She closed her eyes, pressing the cold, smooth surface to her lips. John had asked her that very morning they returned from the hospital. He even made her favorite lingonberry crepes. Down on one knee beside the bed, John had promised her the world and she accepted.

That morning he had waited on her hand and foot. She felt so guilty for questioning him. He must have just been nervous about asking her to marry him. Married. She giggled like a little girl, savoring the warm thoughts that ran through. Her and John, moving in together─ traveling the world. It was all so wonderful. Finally, some normality was added to her chaotic life. She was such a dweeb, and she knew it. But damn, it felt good.

John had stayed with her that day as long as he could, but now he was getting ready for work. She admired his physique as he slipped into a light-blue collared shirt, and dark-grey slacks. Her father had given her time off from helping out with translations. The University also granted her leave, and though Celeste felt bad, she was very thankful to both Daddy and the school. It had been nearly three years since she had taken a proper vacation. Even that had been a business trip to Germany. There were talks of Daddy’s company expanding there, but he decided against it. It was quite pricey to build in Germany, especially in Dusseldorf where they would have been located. Maybe this had all been a blessing in disguise. Maybe she needed this. But it was so hard to just shut down, and relax. How did other people do it?

It was difficult for people to understand how accomplished she had become at twenty-four. She had graduated high school at the age of fifteen, and received her Master’s Degree at Julliard by the end of her twentieth year. At twenty-one years old, she was offered a job at the local university and translated for her father. He would often ask her to close deals and speak with his business partners and clients in Japan.

Many people at the consulting firm thought she got the job because of her father, but she worked hard to prove them wrong. Once they realized it, they were a little more forgiving. It was a double edged sword being the daughter of a wealthy man. Especially when they owned the company that you worked for. She tried not to think about what the other employees thought about her. Instead, she just worked hard earning her place. She suspected that her father secretly prided her on it. He would jokingly tell her to take vacations, but always spoke highly of her to the other workers. She wished he wouldn’t. Drawing attention to it only made matters worse with her co-workers. More than once she had walked into the break room and it had gone completely silent.

Luci, his personal administrator, was a close family friend and had been for years. She would always talk loudly about how late she’d caught Celeste working in front of others─ winking as she walked by. Bless that woman. Celeste was fairly convinced that her dad would get little accomplished without her. She, also, didn’t tolerate anyone’s shit. If hell had a badass division, she was pretty sure Luci was in charge of it. Not to mention, the woman had no life. She honestly couldn’t have. Anytime Celeste walked in, no matter what time of day, Luci was there working on one project or another. She smiled to herself, I’m going to miss that sassy bitch this week.

She frowned at the 26 missed calls since yesterday on her phone, all from either her father’s phone or the office. She couldn’t understand why both her Father and John were acting like the world was coming to an end. She suspected it had something to do with what the doctor told John. No matter how hard Celeste pried, all he would tell her to do was to 'take her medication and go to evening therapy sessions.' He got cross any time she pushed it.

Doctor Heisman would ask Celeste tiresome questions she didn’t want to answer about her past. How many times could she tell the man that she could hardly remember a thing from Tokyo? Yet still, he pushed her once a week to do so. At times, Celeste felt like she needed to be locked up. She hadn’t had an episode since the last one, but the thought kept her on edge. Every time she fought to remember the finer details, she would shut down. She knew that it had something to do with the supernatural realm, and that a demon girl had appeared to her, but it's all she could remember. I just want to get back to normal, Celeste thought.

She looked down at her cell phone again and sighed. He’d sent three texts in the last half hour.

Dad: Where are you?

Call me the second you see this.

Woman, don’t make me kick down your door. I’ll do it.

She knew he wasn’t joking. She sent a quick, I’m fine. I’ll call in just a Sec. His response was instant and she ground her jaw. She really couldn’t get a second alone. Celeste set the phone down and made it a point to not look. She’d call him in a few minutes. He had argued that someone should be hired to stay with her yesterday, but Celeste was stubborn and insisted she would be fine. Her father always sent too much and Celeste didn’t want to worry him more than she had. She turned to John and kissed him as he stood up to leave for work. Smiling down at her he pulled at his suit. Celeste giggled at his stiff attire. He must have to meet a client today. He winked and spun around once.

“Having fun at my expense?” He asked, tsking at her. She laughed heartily, wiggling her eyebrows. “Yep, it just doesn’t suit you.” John groaned at the pun and ruffled her hair. “Dad jokes aside, if this piece sells I get a cool fifty grand and we can have an awesome wedding.” Celeste smiled at him tenderly. “You know Daddy will pay for everything, I don’t know why you insist on covering it.”

“Because sometimes a man has to have a little pride,” he said, straightening his tie, then added, “and your father buys everything.” John leaned down, brushed a stray hair off of her face, and cupped her cheek. “Just give me this one thing─ I want to give you the kind of wedding that girls will turn nine shades of green over.” He gave his suit one last tug and strode toward the doorway. He paused and turned back to her. “Then I can prove that being an artist is a real job and your dad will finally get off my case.” He blew her a kiss and left the room.

Celeste blushed anytime he mentioned that. Her father was a bit of an elitist and it embarrassed her to no end. The day she started dating John, Father had flat out told her no─ while John was still in the room. John laughed it off later and said that her dad just needed some time to warm up to him. She was amazed at that man’s confidence. No one, except Luci, had ever stood up to daddy. Especially anyone that she dated. That might have had something to do with his extremely large gun collection─ that he made a point of showing off anytime some poor sap came over. A true Southern dad. She chuckled, shaking her head.

She sat up, and positioned her legs over the edge of the bed. That was enough sitting in bed for the day, she had things she wanted to do. Even if she was supposed to relax. Her legs dropped down and then the shot up instantly. Celeste gasped─ the floor had been absolutely freezing. She tested the frigid surface with a toe. The temperature was still what she imagined the surface of Antarctica felt like. She glanced over to the hall and then finally braved the arctic, managing to tiptoe over to the thermostat. It was agonizing. So cold that even that short walk had sent pins and needles across her foot. Maybe John turned it down, she thought. Celeste gripped her sides and her teeth chattered. She finally reached it and peered at the little box in front of her. Weird, it says it's 75 degrees in here, she thought. Maybe I'm cold because I just woke up.

She stretched her arms and legs as she walked out to the living room. The further she walked from her room, the warmer it became. By the time she reached the living room, the temperature felt slightly warm and humid. She frowned, walking from the hallway to the living room, going back and forth. The temperature difference was incredibly significant─ like a wall of heat and cool. Maybe she should have her AC checked out, or the duct work. She decided that must have been what was going on and that she would have a guy check into it tomorrow.

It felt like ages since she had done anything on her own, and she was so ready. She shook off the cold, walking at a brisk pace to the kitchen. She reached over and used Chrome-cast from her phone, turning on her YouTube Live News broadcast. It always made her feel more connected to the outside world when she was home alone. The weather man droned on about the forecast, and then finally switched over to their prediction on Halloween this year. She hoped that it would be another lovely year for the neighbor kids─ she really enjoyed getting to see their costumes. Celeste frowned at the images of carved pumpkins on the screen. It was Anna’s favorite holiday, and by extension, she had grown to love everything about it. Especially giving the children a spook and reading scary stories. But she hadn’t seen or spoken to her best friend in nearly two years. She sighed, listening as the broadcast switched from the weather to the news anchor’s top story.

In an unfortunate turn of events─ police have confirmed that Krista McKenna, age twenty-two, missing since last Wednesday, is the seventh victim of the serial murders in the downtown Richardson area. She was last seen walking to the parking lot and getting into her vehicle Wednesday night from the store’s surveillance equipment. Her roommate, Ava Johnson, also age twenty-two, claims this was the last time she saw her. Local authorities are asking young girls, between the ages of eighteen to twenty-five with long black hair and petite with moderate builds to use extreme caution when walking in secluded areas. Avoid them if at all possible and keep friends nearby. It could save your life.

She froze, unable to tear her eyes away from the caution tape and interviews with the Richardson Police Chief. She had just been shopping in that area a few days ago. It was right across the street from her health food grocer. That could have been her, if she had just waited a few more days. When were they going to catch this monster? The news took on a happier note and switched to sports. She turned off the Chromecast from her phone. That was enough news for the day. She almost hated turning the news on anymore─ it was all doom and gloom. What was she expecting? An uplifting story? Snorting, she scoffed at her own ignorance─ they covered those stories for a reason. Everyone knew that. Why couldn’t people be interested in state funding for local schools or supporting local charities or city projects? She giggled, trying to lighten her mood. Okay, old lady, she thought.

Celeste reached up to the cupboard for tea. Her favorite flavors in the winter were jasmine with milk and honey. Especially matcha, A loose-leaf green tea that was good, and strong. This should warm me up, she thought, reaching into the cabinet for the kettle. Normally she preferred loose leaf varieties, but she needed to run by the Asian mart and grab some. Or order it online, one of the two. She let out a long sigh, ah the sacrifices she made. Celeste laughed out loud at her silliness and poured the hot water into the pot before carefully tying the packet to the handle. It was a trick she learned the last time she went to her favorite Chinese restaurant in Chinatown.

It was odd to call it that here─ she had been to the real Chinatown in New York as a girl. She really missed the Chinese New Year there. The colors and lanterns after the New Year ended, the high spirits, and the family gatherings were something to really look forward to─ especially when she spent it with Anna’s family during the New Year’s Dinner. They would enjoy dumplings and stay up all night just talking with one another. Every year, her father’s friend and partner, Mr. Liu as she called him, would bring her a small red envelope with money. Mr. Liu would always tell her to keep them close. Celeste had felt a strong feeling of relief each year that she got them. She was never sure of why, but somehow the red packages made her feel at ease.

She jumped as a loud sound startled her. It sounded like it had come from the living room. Celeste was unsure of what the sound was─ it sounded like someone had cracked a whip. It was electric in nature, like a jolt and filled the room with its energy. Should I go look? She debated with herself for several seconds. What if it was just outside? She glanced out of the patio door. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She resolved to go look─ maybe one of the power sockets had shorted. Stranger things have happened, after all. She sighed and walked toward the entryway to the dining room. The kitchen was designed to be isolated in the far corner of the house near the patio doors. It had a divider that went between the staircase leading downstairs and her den. She would have to walk past the wall that separated the two before the living area was visible.

A blast of cold completely took her breath away as she passed over the threshold. She jumped back, clutching her chest. What the hell was that? She wondered. She braced herself, closed her eyes and pushed forward, preparing for a possible second wave. Surprised to find none, she opened her eyes and glanced into the living room. The instant she spotted it, she fled back to the kitchen, cursing. A hooded person sat to the right on her couch. They were barely ten feet away. Clutching at the sides of their hood, they were rocking back and forth. Celeste could hear their deep breathing. Her mind was racing, and she feared the worst─ maybe it was the serial killer from the news. The creep had already killed seven women. She would be damned if she would be the eighth─ assuming this was the psycho, and they were in her living room. Celeste did fit the profile of the girls that were murdered─ long dark hair, fit, and petite. She had problems with stalkers before in college, but most of them had been harmless.

A violation of this magnitude angered her, and she wanted to make sure it was the last. She scanned the kitchen. Her eyes met the knife block at the back on the counter and Celeste tiptoed across, careful to not make a sound. Every creak, every breath felt amplified, like she was giving her own personal concert─ Guest appearance Captain Clumsy, she thought. Celeste rolled her eyes at her idiotic sense of humor at a time like this, and steadily made her way past the island. Her leg raked the side something─ something sharp. She bit down on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to scream out in pain. The knives wavered in her sight. They felt miles from her grasp. They must not have seen me. They would have come over by now, she thought. That, or they were playing some kind of sick cat-and-mouse game. She tried not to think about it as her hand finally found the handle and she ripped the knife from its holder. It felt sturdy, and a bit of her confidence returned. Celeste had never wanted to hurt anyone, but if it came down to it─ she would come out winning, or die trying.

She silently flew back across the kitchen, pressing her back against the wall at the entrance. Celeste crept to the edge and dropped down to her knees to peer around the corner. It was a trick she hoped would work. Maybe he would be expecting her more at eye-level and she could gain some type of advantage. What, slowing the process of him killing you? She thought. Stop thinking like that, she scolded, you're going to get through this. Ever-so-slowly, Celeste stuck her head out and looked up at her intruder.

* * *

Her jaw dropped and heat rushed to her face. She instantly was angry. The word angry didn't even justify what she felt right then─ she was livid. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” She yelled. Celeste lost it. How could he do this after everything she had been through lately? What the hell was he thinking? Despite her anger, John hadn't moved from the couch. The upper half of his body was folded over his legs and he traced circles along the floor with his hand. He pretended as if she weren't even there. The hood had fallen back to reveal his face while she was in the kitchen panicking earlier. He must have moved it, or it had fallen when he put his head down. She half expected his lame grin to flash across his face in a few seconds, but he still hadn't acknowledged her presence. She shot up and slammed the knife down on the counter. She would give him something to trace? the bottom of her shoe while it smacked into his thick skull.

“Why do you have to be such a child?” She spat.

Celeste stomped across the room and found her way to the bathroom in the hall. Why was he even here? He had just left a few minutes ago. Damn his sense of humor, she thought as she put her leg up on the counter. She peeled back her shorts and looked down. It wasn’t too bad, just a few scratches across her left thigh. Must have been the grill brush or the tongs, she realized. She would have to be wearing her favorite shorts. Great, now they were ruined.

Celeste reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out the first-aid kit. With any luck, it wouldn’t leave a scar. She finished doctoring her leg and turned back toward the hall. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw John standing there. He was hunched over, his face obscured by the tangles of black. His breath gently stirred his hair─ it was rhythmic as it drew in toward his mouth, and then was blown slightly out like a pendulum. Celeste paused before his bent form, and for a moment? she watched him. This was completely out of character, even for him. Something wasn't right. Without thinking, her arm reached out and she gently brushed the tangle from his face. Two pools of liquid sapphire appeared, staring blankly. His breathing calmed, but his face was flushed an angry shade of red. His hand lashed out and clamped around her neck. She clawed at his vice-like grip, helpless against his strength. He shoved her hard into the door, the empty expression still remaining on his face. It was as if he wasn't really there, attacking something in his sleep. His sleep. Sleepwalking, of course. She'd read somewhere that most sleepwalkers were harmless, but he could sometimes become violent. She managed to choke out, “John”, before his grip finally loosened and his hand fell to the side. She backpedaled and shoved herself onto the bathroom sink, gasping for breath.

After gulping in mass amounts of air, Celeste froze. Her eyes wandered from John’s vacant stare, then down to his neck and chest. Sweat poured from every surface the button-up shirt was torn to bits. Fragments of it remained around his arms and collar, the rest was nowhere to be found. Angry, purple bruises covered his chest and stomach. He seemed to barely be able and stand. Celeste snapped out of her fear and moved beneath his shoulder to support his weight. She eased herself under his arm, so he wouldn’t mistakenly attack her again. His dream states could be very scary and he had been diagnosed with PTSD some years ago. He would never open up and tell her what had happened, but he continually had seizures and flashbacks.

"John, my God─ what happened?" Celeste stuttered. Her unease grew with every second of silence. She looked up and caught his far away gaze. His breath was labored. Not now, not now, she chanted silently. His eyes turned skyward. “No, no, John don’t you do this,” She called to him frantically, “come on baby, keep those eyes open for me,” but he wasn’t listening. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor, taking Celeste with him. She struggled against his death grip as his body convulsed on the floor. Celeste clawed at John’s arm pinning her, and finally managed to rip herself away. She cursed, tripping over the piano bench as she ran into the living room. Finally, she reached her purse and found what she was looking for. Her wallet in hand, she ran to him and shoved it into his mouth. She sat on top of him, pinning his body to the floor until the convulsions subsided. When Celeste was sure that no more would come, she gently removed the wallet. She laid it on the floor and lifted John’s head into her lap. Her hand found its mark along his neck. Good. She sighed in relief at the strong pulse that beat beneath her fingers.

"I won’t do it,” his voice startled her. It was feverish─ as if he were in a half-drunken state. She caressed his cheek, softly murmuring words of comfort to him. John must have been talking in his post seizure state. He sometimes did after one of his episodes. “I’ve worked too hard for this and you’re not going to ruin it,” He continued, “not you, not anyone." His low voice chilled her. It came out clear and calculated. Celeste swallowed thickly before asking, “Not going to ruin what, John?” Ignoring her, he continued to chant softly to himself. "I won't─ I won't." His eyes shot open and he shoved her off of him. He was on his feet in seconds, his chest rising and falling as if he had just finished a marathon. She blinked and stared after him dumbly from the ground. John was already ten feet away. How had he gotten there so fast? John stumbled a few times and looked around before recognition reached his eyes.

“Jo─”

He was down the hall in seconds. Celeste jumped to her feet and failed to match his step. By the time she was at the top of the stairs, he was out the front door. Celeste charged outside and heard the car door slam. She screamed at him as he peeled away, the Infinity GI’s tires spinning from the accelerator hitting the floor. Celeste stared mutely from the sidewalk at the tail end of the car as it disappeared from sight.

* * *