Are You Scared Now?

Are You Scared Now? By Jess Costa

Lying in bed never felt so sweet. Sheets are gnarled around ankles that twist into four legs. Sweat trails down her temple, charcoal hair sticks to her unmoving face. The room burns red as the sun dips below the hills. The summer crickets screech. Next to her, the man’s eyes are glazed over. Uncontracting from the light that pierces through the window. Unblinking even with time. 

Drip, drip, drip. 

Blood carves its way down his ghostly skin like a river paving toward an unknown abyss. A tongue licks up the trail until she reaches pale lips. She gives him a crimson kiss. His blood paints her smile. Her nail scrapes down his chest, forming the head of an arrow. 

Her gaze falls over the woman lying next to him. A face mirroring her own. She smiles wickedly. She caresses her sleeping face, “Wake up.” The sleeping woman doesn’t move, almost intentionally. A prey playing dead I see. 

With blood still on her lips, she leans over to the man with a final scratch of her finger. He gasps to life. He shakes his date’s arm, “Ren, I- I need-” He starts to choke. Ren darts up to help him. He grips her shoulder. “Talk to me, what-” His fingers dig into her shoulder causing pain to fill her face. She flings him off of her like a cat swatting an insect. He flies back on the bed, reaching for his throat as it closes up. On his bare chest, “Are you scared now?” is seared into his skin. The flesh is already scarred over. 

Ren scrambles back on the bed, gripping the sheet. Her hands are covered in blood, reminders of her night. A maniacal chuckle comes from across the room. She whips her head around. The mirror slowly cracks. Ren rushes to look at her reflection. There isn’t a bed behind her. Only a charred, forsaken room. She turns back and sees a man lying in a pristine bed. Her hands are clean, even though the feeling of his blood stains her fingertips. Her phone vibrates. 

Jared: Are you scared now? 

Her hands begin to shake. Her vision starts to blur. The letters scrabble. 

Jared: Are you still good for 11? 

She texts back: Works for me! 

Ren pulls up her jeans while the man in bed remains still. She sneaks out the front door. Her rusty Subaru passes the window. He slingshots up in bed. Healed scratches stripe his chest. He begins to cough. He chugs water and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. Blood is smeared across it, but he’s looking at his broken mirror. 

Ren speeds down the treelined road where rubble is tossed and turned in her wake. “Mira pickup, pickup…” The monotonous ringing morphs into a lullaby. Her head droops. “Ren? Ren!?” A horn wails. Headlights blind her. Ren swerves her steering wheel. The oncoming driver flips her off as they pass. She flips it back to them. 

“Mira?”

“What the hell was that?”

“Asshole driver, came out of nowhere.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“I’m fine, but I- I need you.”

Ren’s jaw tightens as she admits this. How many times can your sister make things better? She doesn’t need rescuing… Yes, she does. 

“What’s the address?” 

“I can drive. I need your help again.”

“Let yourself in the back, I’ll get started with-”

“I have work.”

“Okay, after work.”

“I can’t, but tomorrow first thing-”

“No.” 

“Mira, I-”

“Leave him alone.”

Ren picks up her water dripping with condensation and presses it to her face. Her mind flashes to blood trickling down that man’s chest. 

“Mira, that’s not fair.” 

“To him or you?”

“Don’t be crazy.”

“Renny, this is too scary to chance.”

Ren pulls in front of a dive bar off the highway into an “Employee’s Only” spot. The green neon reading, “Grubs” washes a sickly glow over her face. “Just one more time.”

“Only if you come tonight or you’re on your own, Ren.”

Her thumb taps against the steering wheel. A sticky slap hits every time she touches the leather. She rubs her fingers to find a mapley string stretched between them. She quickly wipes her hand on her pants. “I’ll be there.” 

“Are you working a single or a double?”

“Double…”

“Of course.”

She grabs crumpled paper napkins from her console and scrubs the wheel.  

“I’ll see if I can get out early?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll probably be up with Dylan anyway.”

“Always the caretaker.”

“Someone has to.” Crying erupts on the phone. “I’ll see you later, love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Straight here.” 

“Yep, straight there.” 

She rushes through the front door while she throws her hair up. Fresh scratches are marked behind her ear. Ren pushes her way through the bar. Kitsune pours a line of shots and swigs the last one. “You’re late.”

“And you weren’t, Kit?”

“I, at least, got here before Ricky.” Kitsune taps her head. “You’re on onion duty.”

“Lucky me.” 

“Wait, wait! Whatever happened to..?”

Zeek slides over to join the gossip circle. “He still thinks you’re freaky?”

Kitsune smirks, “Oh he thinks she’s freaky alright.” 

Ren rolls her eyes, “Scary. He thought I was scary, but he’s long gone. I don’t want them to be afraid of me.” 

Kitsune gives her a wink, “Only sometimes.” Zeek bumps her arm, “Is it because you did the thing with your legs where you…” He puts his arms above his head to twist at the wrists, just like her ankles were gnarled in sheets hours ago. 

“I have onions calling my name.” Ren pushes into the back of this 1980s white pressboard kitchen to a mountain of onions. She draws the biggest knife from the block and stabs into the first one. 

Kitsune barely pops her head through the door. “We need you out here.” She starts to turn before catching the door with a slam against the wall. The counters are covered in a massacre of onions. Ren turns toward Kitsune. “Not a single tear, I don’t know how…” Ren looks at Kit with a blank expression as her head cranes to the side. “Wooh, wooh, wooh. You need to sit.” Kitsune guides Ren to a stool. Kit rushes to the back closets. “Do you know where the extra towels are?” Ren moves on autopilot and goes back to the knife. Chop, chop, chop. She slices closer and closer to her fingers. “No, you’re done.” Kitsune grips Ren’s wrist, “Ren, can you hear me?” Kitsune shakes Ren’s arm, but she doesn’t move.

Ricky slams the door open, “I need you two behind the bar not-” Ren jumps to her feet causing Kitsune to stagger back. “Stop.” Ren’s voice booms through the room. Ricky is frozen in place in the doorway. The door swings closed with his fingers in the gap. Only his eyes dart around while Ren grabs her bag and walks by his figure. She yanks the door closed as she walks out. 

Ren walks up to her car as guttural screams cry from inside the bar. She throws her blood-splattered tote in the passenger seat and her car roars out of there. 

She sits on a lawn chair in total darkness. The crescent moon slyly smiles down at her. Rocks kick up as a black van crawls towards her. She walks over to the window as it rolls down. The dark figure reaches out to grab her chin. “Get in.” She shakes her head. Her sinister smile from before rears its ugly head. She opens the door and pulls his hand. Her reflection is distorted in his opal ring. Jared gets out of the car, but pulls her to him. Their lips crash into each other. Ren grabs his jacket to push him off of her, even though her eyes are screaming for an encore. 

Ren backs him towards a blanket on the grass. She looks deep into his eyes, “Lie down.” He kneels in front of her with a smile, never breaking eye contact. He sits back and rests on his forearms. The sky envelops her as she releases her hair. Her inky mane blows behind her as she climbs on top of him. She runs her nail down his chest as she unzips his jacket. He wraps his arms around her waist. She unwraps his arms and shoves him back. His head snaps to the ground. He doesn’t move. 

The darkness leaves her eyes. “Jared!? Are you okay?” She leans down to hold his face. 

He squints one eye open. “My fierce, scary lady.” He rubs the back of his head. Ren lets herself fall to the side and crawls into her skin as she pulls her knees to her chest. 

“Ren? It’s okay, you’re not-”

“You don’t know.” 

He leans his chin on her side, “I think I would-”

She scrunches away from him with so much pain in her eyes. “No, and I don’t ever want you to see me that way.” She rubs her arms quickly, repeatedly, like a nervous tick. Bumps like bugs crawling under her skin, running up and down her arms. She keeps rubbing them while Jared puts his jacket over her. 

“Just stop it.” Ren rips off the jacket. Jared reaches for her arm. She pulls it away. “I should’ve known better, I should’ve, I-”

“Ren, listen it’s okay, we don’t need to-”

She lunges for him with his jacket pressed against his neck. He claws at her hands, but he can’t fight her off. Her eyes glow a sickly yellow, her mouth stretches into rows of monstrous teeth. He puts his hand over hers as she presses into his esophagus. Her mouth grows wider, blackness swallows everything around them. 

Ren is curled up in a ball with her head down, “Are you scared now?” comes out as the tiniest whisper. 

“No.” 

Ren looks up, she is only 8 years old, but her green eyes shine brightly against her cry-ridden face. Jared takes her hand. She begins to sob, “I don’t want to be scary…” Jared smooths back the hair from her face, “It’s a good thing you’re not. I see you, all of you.” 

The stars watch Ren curled up on her blanket as tears stream down her face. 

Fingers intertwine. She rolls over and looks at Jared. He wipes her tear-stained cheek and kisses its place. “I’m here to stay.” Ren rubs her fingers together and feels the smooth texture of her fingertips. She cups the side of his face and kisses him. “I guess I am, too.”