Off the Beaten Path: Eight Tales of the Paranormal by Sharon Sant, Angela Roquet, Jason T. Graves, Monica La Porta, Chip Putnam, D.R. Johnson, Kath Langdon Page B

through the silent halls of my apartment building to the garage below.  Although we didn’t speak, he held my hand in his and I felt safe.  It was as if his attempt to suffocate me a few hours ago never happened.
    Few people roamed the streets this early in the morning.  All the drunks had fallen into their stupors and most of the working world had yet to wake, all except a few over-achievers that were already making their way to their paying jobs.
    Although Nik still hadn’t spoken, I knew where we were going.  We were heading straight for Lankin.  At this early hour, only a few people would be there, and Matt would be one of them.  His habit of working late and arriving early was well known throughout the whole building. He wasn’t an over-achiever, though; he was simply posturing for appearances.  Upper management only cared about appearances.  I scoffed.
    My belly rumbled with hunger and anger.  Nik looked down at me and squeezed my hand.  I met his concerned look with a smile.  Things were starting to become clear in my mind as the confusion melted away.  He nodded, and we continued our walk.
    As we drew closer to the building, I caught sight of a bright, yellow Camaro in the parking lot.  That obnoxious car was Matt’s mid-life crisis.  The sight of it provoked my anger again and my belly rumbled with rage.
    Slipping into the building was easy enough, and we never even saw the security guard.  It’s possible he recognized us and saw us as no threat, letting us go on through.  As we stepped into the elevator, Nik finally spoke, “Are you ready?”
    “More than ready,” I answered quickly and confidently.  My answer was almost a snarl, which earned an approving nod from Nik.  We were silent the rest of the way up.
    On the fifth floor, the elevator dinged and Nik finally let go of my hand.  “I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered, as I slipped out into the darkness.  The main overhead lights hadn’t been turned on yet, and the only light on the floor was the one streaming from Matt’s office.  My footfalls were silent as I made my way through the maze of cubicles, straight for the light.
    I was a shadow standing just outside the doorway, watching the detestable man for many moments without him even knowing I was there.  He was intent on his computer screen and the sounds of a woman’s moans and rhythmic thumping coming from his speakers left no doubt about all the hard work the good Christian Matthew Valencia dedicated himself to every morning.
    The ache in my belly wound its way up into my throat.  The need for food began to morph into an almost unbearable thirst.  I stepped forward and still Matt was so far absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed me.
    I growled.
    Matt jumped back, finally becoming aware of my presence.  It was comical watching him rock back in his chair as I startled him and his ensuing fumbles to close whatever website he was on.
    “Laura,” he said, stuttering and finally spinning in his chair to face me directly.  “I see you’re here early.  Finally going to get some work finished on time?”
    It was a standard comment from him, but the jab lacked his usual bluster.  I didn’t respond.  His face flushed a deep shade of red, and I enjoyed watching him squirm in his discomfort.  Taking slow steps into his office, I found I could smell his nervousness as I closed the distance between us.
    Matt stared at me, seeming unable to form words, waiting for me to speak.  I was content with the silence.  His eyes flicked down to my attire, stalling on my breasts for a few heartbeats.  He tried to meet my gaze again but couldn’t seem to make his eyes behave.  It took him several moments to formulate his next thought.
    “Wasn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?”  At that, he stopped trying to look away.  It was as if the question gave him an excuse to ogle me, and his eyes were glued to my curves.  I squinted my eyes in anger, but he never