"Ms. Brown." Stacey heard someone knock lightly on her door.
"Come in." She replied, absentmindedly, before looking up from her screen. She gently removed her gold rimmed glasses, placing them back into its case.
"Your dad requests your presence in the media room, Ma."
"Tell him, I will be there shortly." Stacey groaned, rubbing her tired eyes. Her eyes felt like they were on fire, her lids heavy with the weight of exhaustion. But she refused to surrender to sleep, knowing that Azrael lurked in the shadows of her dreams, waiting to pounce. She had been awake for 72 hours, and her desperate attempts to stay awake were becoming increasingly absurd.
The lady nodded and turned to leave, but Stacey interrupted her. "What of my mum?"
"She's already in her nursery. Do you want me to deliver a message to her?"
Susan kept a green house, where she tended to her little plants with tender precision. When she wasn't busy planning and volunteering for charity events, she was definitely engrossed with the plants.
"No, not at all. You can go now."
Stacey reluctantly got up from her bed, her legs feeling like lead, and made her way to the media room. It was their mini cinema, and usually a fun place to spend time together. But, Stacey was already tired of staring at a screen, and 'fun' was the last thing on her mind.
"Dad, you sent for me." She announced her presence, breaking James concentration from the documentary he was watching.
"Yeah, I did. Come sit." He gently tapped the leather seat, next to his', with a smile.
Stacey sank into the seat, relaxing her frame.
James paused the documentary, turning to face her. His forehead furrowed in concern. "Hey, kiddo. What's going on? You've barely left your room lately."
Stacey forced a smile, trying to reassure him. "Just busy, Dad. That's all."
James nodded, but his eyes lingered on her face, searching for signs of fatigue. "Okay, well, we've barely spent any time together with all that has been happening. I was hoping we could forget about it all and just unwind for a bit."
Stacey didn't believe him but flashed him a ghost of a smile. When last did that happen? He only ever talked about marriage to Fredrick. She decided to indulge him only to see how long it would take before he brought up the real reason why she was summoned.
"Okay dad… I guess. So, what are you watching?"
Stacey stayed with him for a couple of hours, talking and laughing, till when it was time for him to retire for the day.
"Make sure to rest well, I don't want to have to worry about your health. You look like you could use some sleep."
"I'm fine dad, I promise."
"Okay." He turned to leave but then remembered something. "Oh and, I need you to follow me somewhere tomorrow afternoon. So, plan your day around that."
"Where?" Stacey asked, skepticism lining her voice.
"We will find out when we get there." James replied, walking away "Goodnight."
"Good night."
Stacey returned to her room, determined to stay awake. She gulped down another energy drink, her heart racing with the caffeine surge. She began pacing around her room, counting in the roman numerals backward.
As the minutes ticked by, Stacey's attempts to stay awake became more and more ridiculous. She had already watched an entire season of her favorite TV show, sang along to her favorite songs at the top of her lungs, and even attempted to learn a new language - with disastrous results. All the while, her exhaustion grew, her body screaming for rest.
In a moment of desperation, she called Fredrick, hoping to keep herself awake with conversation. They talked for about thirty minutes, just throwing ideas around but not coming to any useful solution. Fredrick was fast worn out, and called it a night, leaving Stacey to her struggle.
She turned on her laptop to continue with her case files. Earlier, she reached out to her secretary, Amellia, who had been updating her from the office and requested for all pending case files to be sent to her mail. There was no better distraction than to immerse herself with work.
She opened another can of energy drink and took long gulps, but the urge to sleep was overpowering her. Stacey's eyelids drooped, her vision blurring like a watercolor painting in the rain. She shook her head furiously, opening her eyes wide.
"No, no, no!" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I won't let you win."
But it was no use. Her body betrayed her, her limbs heavy with the weight of sleep deprivation.
Her last thought was of Azrael, his menacing presence lurking in the shadows of her dreams.
As she slipped into unconsciousness, the world around her grew dim, like a candle flickering out. Her thoughts grew muddled, her mind a jumbled mess of fragmented images and disjointed thoughts. And then… nothing.
The darkness closed in.
Stacey found herself standing alone on a frozen quay, surrounded by a blizzard that seemed to stretch on forever. Icicles hung like swords of Damocles, their frozen tips glinting in the faint light. Her beautiful white silk gown billowed around her, its slit revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her thigh. It had filigree around the waist that formed a band and gave her dress a royal feel. But the beauty of her attire was lost on her, as fear gripped her heart.
She tried to scream, but her voice was trapped in her throat. The only sound was the creaking of ice and the soft lapping of water against the quay. She felt Azrael's presence, his aura wrapping around her like a shroud. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs were frozen in place.
"Azrael," she braced herself and screamed at the top of her lungs "show yourself, coward!"
Azrael bellowed menacingly, his voice like the sound of many waters. "Coward, you say? I find that rather insulting, but I will let it slide this once. I won't be this lenient next time."
She couldn't see him, but the glint of anger in his voice was palpable, making Stacey shudder, as she kept looking around.
"I dare you," she spat, her defiance a thin veneer over her fear.
Azrael's chuckle was like a cold wind, sending shivers down her spine. "You amuse me, Stacey. But your insolence will only get you in trouble."
With a flick of his hand, Stacey felt herself lifted off the ground, her body suspended in mid-air. She kicked and flailed, but Azrael's grip was unyielding.
She was not going to give him the satisfaction of begging. "Put me down, this second," she snarled.
Azrael's response was a cruel laugh, "Why Mon Cherie? The show just began."
Before Stacey could ask what show he spoke of, she felt her white dress torn from her body. The entire length of the dress from her waist, ripped apart, exposing wickedly long, sexy legs.
"Please…" She cried, "Put me down."
"Not until you beg for mercy." He insisted, enjoying the show.
In a split second, the part of the dress that covered her trunk was torn apart too – leaving her in only a white lace bra that barely covered her breast, and a thong that bared her butt.
Stacey realizing that the only way out, was actually to plead with him, did so amidst tears. "Please, I'm sorry." It was more of a guttural sound, than a plea.
"Louder!" Azrael ordered, his voice echoing through the entire space.
"Please, I'm sorry."
"That's more like it." He guffawed, and let her down with a thud.
She groped around for the pieces of her clothes, in a bid to cover up herself. But his voice stopped her. "Stand, now!"
She rose as instructed, scared of what he might do next if she defied his order. But she kept her hands folded across her chest, trying to shield herself.
"Let down your hands!" Azrael bellowed, "I want to see you."
There was an entitled amusement to his tone that irked her and made her angry again.
She let her hands down and resumed chewing him out. "What do you want from me? Why are you haunting my sleep? It's freaking exhausting!"
"That's the only way to get your undivided attention."
Stacey sniggered "Why? And why choose to hide behind the shadows? If you claim to be all powerful, show your bloody self and stop cowering in the dark, like a kitten. It's sickening." She yelled.
"Patience, Mon Cherie. In the fullness of time, I will come for you."
Stacey huffed exasperatedly, flitting around, as she mimicked his words - fullness of time indeed. "Leave me the hell alone. I have no business with you."
"That's where you have it all wrong, Mon Cherie. You and I share a special bond."
Stacey squirmed at his words. Not on her life.
"What do you want from me, Azrael? Why make my life a living nightmare? Why are you playing god with my sanity?" She sobbed.
"I want what's mine!" He thundered, sending fresh chills all over her. "Nothing more and nothing less."
What's his?
Stacey's fear gave way to desperation. "You are speaking in parables. What do you mean by, 'what's yours? I will return it to you. Just tell me what it is and allow me breathe. Do you need a lawyer to plead your case? Is that why you are bugging me?"
Azrael roared in laughter, "Your cluelessness is endearing. You'll find out soon enough, Stacey. But for now, let's just say...it's a pity that such a beautiful body has to go to waste."
Stacey's anger flared, her voice rising. "You're disgusting! You're not even human!"
Azrael's expression turned cold, his voice dripping with menace. "I'm more than human, Stacey. And soon, you'll see the true extent of my power."
"I refuse to believe you are real. This is just a twisted figment of my imagination. It's just not possible."
"Stretch your hand and see." Azrael instructed, tired of the banter.
Stacey was about to confront him further, but her vision began to blur. She felt herself being yanked back to reality. She jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, her heart racing. The alarm clock was still blaring, and she slammed it silent with a frustrated grunt.
"Another nightmare," she muttered.
As she stumbled towards the bathroom, her bathrobe slipped open, revealing the glowing mark on her arm. It pulsed with an otherworldly energy, like it did the last time after her dream.
She needed to freshen up.
She splashed water on her face, trying to shake off the lingering fear.
"What does he want? He can't possibly want me dead. He would have done that in a heartbeat." She thought out loud.
She dismissed the idea and went back to bed; she was done running from him.
Let the worst happen!