The Otherling Read online

  As she gazed down at her sleeping form, something to her left caught her eye. A furtive movement from the shadows revealed a large hulking figure that was quick and somehow sinister, peeling itself from the darkness and carrying within it the promise of unfathomable wickedness.

  Annaleah watched in terror as the monstrous form moved to hunch beside her. Curiously unable to look away, she took in the abhorrent shape that was darker than the blackest shadow she had ever seen. A strange mix of horror, wonder and confusion raged within her; never had she seen anything like this in all her years of exploring occultism. She had read of shadow people and evil creatures, but this was her first time seeing what she had for so long researched. It looked as if it were made from congealed oil, undulating within itself. Its head and shoulders were humanoid, but its arms were too long for its body, thin, spindly and insectile, terminating in barbs. These it waved over her, performing strange movements over her sleeping form. A chittering sound came from it, as if it were speaking a bizarre incantation in the language of some terrible, insect God.

  Annaleah tried to scream, but no sound came. Now instead of a wonderful, weightless feeling, she was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or cry out. As if hearing her unuttered wail, the creature turned its awful head and fixed its gaze on her where she floated against the ceiling. It scrutinized her with glowing scarlet eyes, which emitted a foul light enough for her to see the horror that was its mouth. Jutting out from each side of its open jaws were what appeared to be mandibles, each one spread out wide and wavering, the sickening sound of chittering coming out of it louder and stronger, building upon itself like some repugnant prayer to a God she couldn't even begin to contemplate. Terror pierced her, pinning her motionless to the spot in which she hovered.

  "Oh Goddess, please let me wake up!" Annaleah pleaded in her mind, unable to say the words aloud. Still the creature chittered, now ceasing its strange movements over her body. As the sound intensified it stood up, reaching a long arm upward. Its blood red eyes shone with ferocity, malice thickening the air between them.

  Annaleah was certain she was about to be skewered, panic now a super nova inside her. "WAKE UP!!" She pleaded with herself, "Oh please wake up!"

  Suddenly, she was falling. The sensation of weightlessness was over all at once as she plummeted back towards herself. To feel her soul re-enter her body was immediate and jarring. It stole the breath from her and made her heart gallop. Instantly she sat bolt upright in bed, winded, gasping for the breath her soul’s entry had stolen from her.

  She instantly looked to the spot where the creature had stood, and was only faintly relieved to see nothing there. She scanned the room for the presence, and even though she saw nothing, she could still feel it in the room with her. She was bathed in a sheen of sticky sweat, still too stunned to scream. Exhausted, she crumpled onto the bed, too spent to cry.

  She had an idea as to what the creature must be, something that clawed its way from the depths of Hell, be it a demon, a shadow person, or a malevolent thought form someone had conjured to terrify her. Why was it here, she wondered, and why now?

  Annaleah was a white witch, one who did no harm to others, believing in the law of three; what you send out into the world, weather it is good or bad, will return to you threefold. She had always done her best to be polite and to offend no one. What had she done to attract such a malicious creature to her? Whatever the reason it had visited her, she knew one thing. It had meant to harm her.

  Gathering whatever modicum of strength she had left, she lifted the pentacle which hung on a silver necklace against her chest. Squeezing it in her hand, she said, "Mother, Maiden and Crone, come to my side and bathe me in your light, protect me from that which seeks my harm and from all forms of darkness and negativity. Give me strength to repel that which is formed in shadows, and never leave my side. As I will it, so mote it be."

  ***

  From the darkness of the shadows, where the moonlight failed to fall, it hid, listening. It saw the astral light of protection fall upon Annaleah, and enraged, turned to go back to where it had come from.

  Through gnarled teeth and dripping mandibles it wailed, though Annaleah, now returned to her body and no longer in astral form, could no longer see nor hear it. So close, it had been, to ripping out the silver cord and being rid of her forever.

  Now the Light had come, and was ever growing around his prey. Should he dare to stay longer, it would grow bright enough to sear his etheric form, perhaps even wounding him permanently. This little human was powerfully protected.

  In one last act of hatred and defiance, it stretched over her praying form. Careful not to touch the light of protection surrounding her, it screamed and shook with the force and effort of its cry.

  Let her have tonight. They would come for her soon enough.

  Chapter Three

  The Meeting

  At nine-thirty the next morning, still bleary eyed and weary from her nightmare, Annaleah found herself outside the office of Chancellor Gladys Tanner. Her hand paused at the door, about to knock, when she heard voices coming from inside. Her heart began beating quickly in her chest, was she late? She turned, glanced at the clock behind her, and noted she was exactly on time. She was about to knock again, when she heard her name mentioned from behind the door. Curious, she let her hand drop and leaned closer to hear what was being said about her.

  "I understand your initial skepticism, Sebastian," she heard a woman say, "but Ms. Grace has an exceptional resume. She graduated at the top of her class in High School at only sixteen and sailed through her college courses. She has an uncanny grasp of world religions, which I think you might actually find refreshing. I know you’re used to teaching classes by yourself, but this is a move made by the faculty in an effort to revive a course we feel is gaining fewer and fewer students."

  Next she heard a man's voice, low and calm, but so deep, dark and smooth that she was instantly reminded of black velvet. "In that case, Chancellor Tanner," Annaleah heard him say, "it would be an honor to have her as an assistant. I am concerned, however, that being so young, the students will not take her seriously and while she may know some of the more recent developments in the subject, I find it difficult to believe she will be well versed in the more arcane areas."

  Something about his voice made Annaleah nervous, and strangely, a little excited. Perhaps it was the masked calm she perceived hidden in it or maybe it was the slight accent, which she couldn't place. In any case, hearing him speak caused a physical reaction, not entirely unpleasant, within her. She felt the blood coursing harder in her veins, heard it rushing in her ears as her heart beat faster. This time when she raised her fist to knock, her hand met with the door, and the three solid knocks were a bit harder and louder than she had intended.

  As she heard someone approaching to answer, Annaleah found herself hoping that it would be the Chancellor that opened the door. She was anxious to see her friendly eyes peering out from behind those colorful glasses. She had already been nervous, but hearing that voice had done something to pique her nerves. She needed a kind pair of eyes to reassure her. While it would only take a moment to gather herself together, it was a moment she was in great need of.

  "Ah, Ms. Grace, welcome, right on time I see," Chancellor Tanner said, smiling at her after opening the door. She stood a good head and shoulders taller than Annaleah, who was used to everyone being somewhat taller than her petite five-foot form.

  Relieved, Annaleah took a deep, fortifying breath and steadied herself. "Please, call me Annaleah. It is nice to see you again Chancellor Tanner." The taller, older woman held the door open, her face wearing a genuine expression of warmth.

  "Likewise, Annaleah. Please do come in. Professor Bainbridge and I were just enjoying a bit of coffee, would you like some?" She gestured to a dark wooden coffee table set with silver dishes. Annaleah's eyes fell on the antique style coffee urn and she smiled. She loved coffee. Her nerves begin to settle and she did her best to summon a
strong, confident attitude.

  A previously seated man rose from a crimson colored wingback chair, with such an effortless and fluid movement that at first Annaleah was not certain what she was seeing. He was dressed almost entirely in black, from the deep polish of his shoes, to his pitch black suit and shirt. He wore a red kerchief and tie, the same color as the chair he had risen from, but the splash of crimson only seemed to make his clothing even darker. He was tall and thin, but his clothes were well tailored and she could tell that he kept his physique in top form. His pale face was angular in a way that suggested aristocratic lineage, his cheekbones sharp and pronounced below smoldering brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. His nose was on the longish side, thin and slightly hooked at the end, but in such a way that it only added to his air of nobility. He wore his ebony hair long, straight and parted in the middle. It fell to just below his shoulders, where it seemed to lose itself in the fabric of his dark suit. When their eyes met, it affected Annaleah in such a way that she almost gasped audibly. He was incredibly handsome, to the point where it almost hurt to look at him. Not heeding her intuition to look away, Annaleah allowed herself a long moment to drink him in, ignoring the threat that sang to her, warning her that he might be dangerous.

  "Annaleah Grace, meet your fellow teacher of World Religions, the mystical arts and philosophy, Professor Sebastian Bainbridge." Chancellor Tanner’s voice had an amused, light lilt to it as she stood back and looked from one to the other.

  Professor Bainbridge was on his feet and extending his hand to her, before Annaleah was aware that he had moved. She took his hand in hers, and as her flesh met his, she felt as though, for a moment, time had slowed down. He had, without a doubt, the softest hand she had ever felt. His eyes seemed to stare straight into her, and where she wanted to find respect and acceptance as a fellow teacher, she found instead a spark of smoldering intensity, followed by a cold and deep calculation as if he were trying to taste her essence and know every secret of her soul. It felt as if things stood out of time as his deep black eyes met and searched hers. He stood wordlessly grasping her hand in his own for what could not have been more than a couple of seconds, but it felt as if when his hand met hers, something extraordinary had happened. It made the air charged with electricity almost too thick to draw into her lungs, and when he finally spoke, Annaleah let the air rush out of her in a heavy sigh.

  "It is my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Grace," Professor Bainbridge said in his exotic voice, his eyes still not leaving Annaleah's. Finally, he released her hand, and smiled what seemed a dangerous smile. She fought for composure, still not sure what had just happened, or what was still happening now.

  There had been many times in Annaleah's life that she had been cornered and bullied into feeling inferior to others. Her school years had not been kind to her. She was so academically advanced, many of her peers saw her as a quirky, strange anomaly. She was used to the jeers, the cruel comments and to being bullied, even by some of the teachers. It also hadn’t helped that she was an emotional person, prone to writing poetry and fantasizing. Her grade school years had been the most painful, she’d been innocent and wanted only to fit in and to play with the other children. She’d spent many days alone and many more in tears, either hiding in the girl's bathroom, in the library, or in the woods behind the school, certain she was different in only the worst of ways.

  She had always been a small person, but she had been much smaller than her peers when she was in elementary school. An especially cruel child by the name of Shandy had been her main tormentor. Shandy had been a big girl, hefty and robust for her age. None of the other children had wanted much to do with her either, but Annaleah had always been her main target. On the days she hadn’t been able to elude Shandy, she had often come home with small cuts and bruises from Shandy.

  Being picked on for being little was only the beginning of her misery. For as long as she could remember, she had worn a small silver pentacle that had once belonged to her mother around her neck. The pendant provided her with a source of comfort and protection.

  “What is this piece of junk?” Shandy had asked her one day, grabbing the sacred piece of jewelry tightly enough for Annaleah to fear she would break it.

  “It’s nothing, just a necklace,” Annaleah had answered, hoping to escape without damage to her pentacle.

  “Looks like one of those Hoodoo necklaces to me. Is that what you are, some kind of devil worshiping Hoodoo girl?”

  A small group had gathered, knowing that if Shandy was involved, there was a good chance a fight would ensue.

  “No, it’s not like that. I know there is evil in the world, but in my religion I don’t think of it as a devil like most people do.”

  Shandy had let her necklace go, and even though she had pushed Annaleah after releasing it, Annaleah let out a huge sigh of relief that her pentacle had made it out of the skirmish intact.

  “So you don’t believe in the devil, what, you think you’re above believing in him? Do you think he can’t hurt you if you wear that crap around your neck?” Shandy had puffed herself up, towering over her, flexing her arms as if she was about to throw a punch.

  Annaleah had said nothing, breaking eye contact to lower her head, hoping nothing more would come of the confrontation.

  “Answer me devil girl!”

  When Annaleah still remained silent, Shandy began the taunt that would follow her throughout grade school, middle school, High School and even into college.

  “Devil girl. Devil girl!” Shandy called out, waving her arms, playing to the crowd. The response was immediate, and the children who stood around began to close in, chanting in a sing-song manner.

  “Devil girl, devil girl, devil girl!!”

  “Stop it! Please, stop it!” Annaleah cried.

  “What are you going to do about it devil girl?” Shandy asked, a wild look in her eyes.

  “It’s not like you’re going to throw a punch at me. You aren’t going to do anything, because all you are is a scaredy cat devil girl.”

  The chants got louder, the sneers on the faces of the other children now seemed to press in harder against Annaleah, making them appear as if they were swaying before her.

  Unable to stand any more, Annaleah had turned and run, dropping her books in her haste to be away from the jeers of the other children.

  “Run devil girl, run!” Shandy had yelled after her.

  “Go home and have Mommy kiss you and make you feel better. Little cry baby devil girl!”

  High School had been no better, the jeers and taunts had graduated into deeper cruelties, and harsher words. One time someone had put a dead crow hanging by a noose in her locker, with a note tied to the rope saying, “Cursed and killed by the devil girl.”

  It wasn’t the act of someone trying to torment her that had disturbed her the most. It was the fact that someone had murdered an innocent animal just to make some kind of hideous point. She had untied the bird from the noose, trying her best not to cry lest the one who had committed the heinous act see her and know that what they had done had crushed her.

  She had wrapped the bird up in a scarf and placed it in her backpack, intending to give it a proper burial when she got home. Someone had seen her though, and rumors had spread that she had taken the bird home to try to bring it back to life. Annaleah was accustomed to these things by now, and though they still hurt her, she did her best to keep to herself and not show others what effect it had on her.

  She had found her strength though, with the help of her best friend, Seth, whom she had met in the fifth grade after one particularly bad run in with Shandy. This time it had come to physical blows, and Annaleah had sat on the front steps of the school hugging herself and crying, letting the blood from her cut eye flow freely down her face, to mingle with her tears.

  Handing her a tissue to stop the blood flow, Seth had sat next to her and said the first of his many kind words to her.

  “You know she’s picking on you because
she’s jealous of you. You’re smart and kind and she wishes she could be too, but she doesn’t know how.”

  Not used to such kindness, Annaleah’s tears had flowed even stronger. Moved that someone had finally showed her a modicum of compassion, she had thrown her arms around him and wept against him as he held her, as if he had always been her best friend.

  As the years passed, he had taught her about self-respect, the gift of being unique, and the importance of being true to one's self no matter what others might think. She summoned Seth's gentle, blue eyed face in her mind for some much needed support, drawing strength in knowing he was sending positive energies her way for this meeting. Chancellor Tanner had thoughtfully told her prior to this meeting that Professor Bainbridge was not the most amiable of people, and would not take kindly to her being his assistant.

  "He won't bite you by any stretch," she had said, "but he might do his best to make you feel uncomfortable. He has been set in his routine for quite a few years, and though we, the staff of this University, feel it is in everyone's best interest to have you on board with us, I doubt Professor Bainbridge will see it that way."

  She had been warned. Going to her center for a brief second, Annaleah straightened up and tilted her chin upwards, purposely looking Sebastian in the eye. She smiled, doing her best to mirror the intense look he had bestowed upon her just moments ago. She might have been intimidated, but to Hell with letting him know that.

  "The pleasure of our meeting is mine, Professor Bainbridge, and please, call me Annaleah," she said, her normally light voice a bit sturdier for emphasis. She saw the corner of his mouth lift ever so slightly, and his eyes twinkled for just a moment, as if he was amused.