Mere Phantasy Page 3

  The Lost Boy, whether the officer or the cashier—it didn’t matter—stood right before me, where he hadn’t been moments before. I jumped to my feet, knocking over a bunch of meat packets stacked against the wall, and began banging my fists into the door behind me. “Help! Somebody!”

  When I dared to look over my shoulder, the boy started coming toward me. Wanting to cry, I pounded harder and harder. What was this? Some kind of twisted, terrifying circus performance?

  Screaming in alarm again, I kicked the door as hard as I could. The guy grinned as he put a hand on my arm, but I pulled away instantly, yelling, “Don’t you dare touch me, you psycho police officer cashier!” I punched out at him but missed.

  He took off his hat and was now just staring at me with his big blue eyes. I tried to shove him away, but he was rock solid and didn’t budge.

  “Lacey, chill out,” he said (it’s not punny when you’re about to die, okay). I flinched from his touch as he twisted some of my hair between his fingers, and it took all of my cool not to bite off his finger right then and there. “Your hair’s gotten longer.”

  Thoroughly creeped out now, I started to tremble.

  “How do you know my name?” I asked shakily.

  And he smiled. He smiled!

  “I know it because I’ve known you for years.” As he said it, he put his hands on his hips, his legs slightly apart.

  “I have no idea who you are,” I mumbled past the hoarseness in my throat, watching him carefully. If he made one advancing move, I needed to be ready to act. I could survive this—whatever this was.

  “Yeah, you do. You know exactly who I am… don’t you?” Now there was worry in his voice.

  “No, I don’t. I just know you trapped me in a freezer, and if you don’t let me out soon, I’ll kick you so hard in your soft spot you won’t ever have children.” It was all talk, of course. He could easily take me on, and I’d probably lose the fight if he tried.

  As I glared at him, he smirked, and as he went to walk toward me and say something else, the door behind me opened suddenly and I went stumbling back. Thankfully, I caught myself before my head smacked into a metal shelf.

  A very bewildered-looking grocery store employee stood with his arms full of defrosted packaged meats at the sight of the two of us coming out of the freezer, but I didn’t stop to talk to him and delay my momentary freedom he’d gifted me for a second.

  “Wait, come back!” Peter called, but I curled my lip in disgust and moved to get away as fast as I could. This guy was beyond weird, and I just wanted to go home and be grounded. Not here with a guy who’d just trapped me in a freezer. Was this another one of my dreams? Was I still seeing things?

  “Just hold on a second.” Fingers gripped my wrist softly, and I jerked to free myself. Peter’s eyes rolled as he said, “I get it; you’re still a fighter. But just let me talk—”

  “What are you talking about?” A thought came to mind, and I backed up a few steps after getting my wrist back. “Are you a stalker?”

  “No, of course not,” he said, seeing a bag of potatoes and running his hand over the orange plastic.

  Each step I took away from him, he took one closer.

  “Then what’s your name? Your real name. I know I saw you earlier, at the police station.” My gaze flicked down to his nametag that read Pete before I looked back to his chilling grin. “You had my necklace.”

  “Peter,” he said curtly, then pointed to my necklace. “Hey, you’re wearing it. Better not lose that again. It took me a long time to find it. Do you even know how it feels to swim for six hours?” He held up both his hands to reveal long, lanky fingers. “I got prune hands because of you.”

  I backed up in disbelief. “What? Why did you do that? I-I threw that in the river on purpose.”

  Peter looked ticked off now. “What? Why would you do that?” Opening my mouth to explain it to him, I was stopped by the sound of the warehouse door opening and another employee walking by us two aisles over. When they passed, Peter furrowed his brows. “That necklace is important, if you didn’t know.”

  I was at a loss for words, looking this kid over. He didn’t know the first thing about me, especially what I thought was important and what wasn’t, and I realized I should’ve just left the conversation long ago. Let the real police handle him.

  “Well, I’ve never met a Peter, and I know you’ve got the wrong Lacey,” I said and tried to step away, but he was suddenly in my face. I jerked back so he wasn’t so close.

  “Stop, okay? You’re in danger, Lacey. We’re both in danger. You have to trust me.” He grabbed my hand, and I wrenched it away, shocked by the way he was acting.

  “You’re crazy.” I laughed mockingly, pushing past him and hurrying my pace. I felt a warm hand on my wrist again and was forced to slow down.

  “It’s a matter of life or death.”

  I didn’t look at him when I stopped walking, too confused by everything he was saying.

  “Even if I was ‘in danger,’” I quoted, “why would you be the one to help me? I can take care of myself.” I crossed my arms over my chest. The raging pulse in the back of my mind was reminding me I should be running away from him at the moment, but my heart was tugging with curiosity.

  “Not if you don’t remember who you are. And what I taught you so you could defend yourself. You’d have to remember all those things in order to take care of yourself. But I doubt you can, since you don’t even remember me.”

  Now he was the one to cross his arms over his chest.

  I just rolled my eyes, but my heart was pounding a mile a minute. “What are you even talking about? We’ve never met before.”

  He leaned closer to me then, his piercing eyes freezing my soul. “Are you sure about that, Lacey?”

  Baffled, I shook my head, hoping that might clear it, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “This… this is insane.” I turned to leave. “I’m going now.” My skin was itching with the willies. The Lost Boy, right out of my paintings, telling me we’d met before. But how was that possible?

  It wasn’t.

  As I moved to rush away, he grabbed my sweatshirt. “No, wait!” He stepped closer in an attempt to show his frustration. “You have no idea what’s been going on, do you? You’re so caught up in the mortal world; it’s like you don’t believe anymore.” He watched me through his shaggy bangs, and I looked at him weirdly.

  “I’m in a mortal world? I think you’re too caught up in the fantasy world. You should talk to someone about this… someone who can help you, okay? Like a doctor. Drugs are very, very bad, and I promise; the real world is so much better. Now, I hope we never meet again.”

  With a wave and a spin, eggs or no eggs, I ran out of the warehouse at full speed. No matter how curious I was, this guy wasn’t in his right state of mind, and I shouldn’t have stayed to talk to him so long. He’d unnerved me; I was shaking as I ran, and all I wanted was to be home. Safe, grounded, and away from the strange Lost Boy from my mosaics, who knew my name and somehow retrieved my mom’s locket from the bottom of the river.

  When I looked back at him over my shoulder, I saw him grinning.

  Three

  THE REFRIGERATED SECTION WAS A WELCOMING sight, and I finally stopped for a break, knowing he hadn’t followed me. Should I tell a manager one of their employees was drugging their customers with hallucinogenics? That they themselves were probably on drugs?

  No, too much involvement and interaction I didn’t need or want.

  Smoothing down my shirt, I started walking toward the front door. I had to get out of here, just in case the boy decided to come after me. Dad would understand why I didn’t get the stupid groceries.

  But… I thought I should at least get the Advil, because he did get bad migraines.

  With a sigh, I turned and quickly grabbed a bottle of the pain reliever next to the register, pulling out a five-dollar bill. I handed it to the clerk, and she rang it up agonizingly slow. Glancing around apprehensive
ly, I gave the money, waiting for my change. I didn’t know where the guy went, but I didn’t want to find out any more about him or what he’d rambled on about.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I felt someone watching me, and I turned, expecting Peter to be there. Instead, it was yet another boy my age, with bright-red hair and dark, squinty eyes. He stood two lines over, at register four, and was grunting so loud I could hear him from where I stood. My heart started to race. Were all the druggies after me now?

  Getting my change back, I hurried from the register, only to see the red-haired boy was also checked out and heading toward the exit at the same time—at this pace, we’d meet at the door. Starting to think both of them were in on this scheme to come after me, I turned and ducked into a nearby aisle, quickly zipping past the breads to get away and hide. Then I slowed. What was I doing? Was I so paranoid that I was running from every male I saw? What was going on with me? One bad egg didn’t mean the rest of the dozen were, too.

  I stopped to shake my head. I was being ridiculous. There was nothing wrong; it was all in my head. Peter was nowhere to be seen; no one was following me. I was just paranoid from the day’s events, that’s all. The lack of sleep was getting to me, and I knew I just needed a second to calm myself down.

  Turning, I moved toward the front of the aisle and the exit, only to stop dead as the same redhead stepped right in front of me.

  If this were Russian roulette, maybe things would’ve been different. I loved movies like that. But no, this time no one was armed and we were just in the front of a Shop N’ Go, people watching us as they passed. I so wished I’d listened to Dad a few months ago when he’d said I should get a can of pepper spray to carry with me. But now I was practically defenseless if this dude made a scene.

  He wore overalls and a red plaid shirt ripped in a few spots. His hair sprang out in curls all around his head, and he cracked his neck to the side, glaring down at me.

  “May I help you?” I asked, trying to sound confident, when really, I was shaking inside.

  “Lacey Rose, you must come with me.”

  To my shock, his voice wasn’t what I expected. It sounded like a grown man’s. I took a step back… right into a body. Looking back, I saw Peter, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, making my heart drop instantaneously. Oh no, no, no, no.

  My gaze bounced between the two of them. So they weren’t working together? Or was this all some big show to distract me?

  “Lacey, when I tell you,” Peter said quietly through the corner of his mouth, “run.”

  “Why should I?” I snapped back at him in a whisper. Yeah right, I was about to listen to a man under the influence.

  “Just do it.” He was stern, and I was almost tempted to actually listen to him. Sure, he seemed sane in the physical. But I had to remind myself that just a few minutes ago, he’d locket me in a freezer.

  “Miss Rose must come with me,” the redhead repeated, and Peter just laughed.

  Did everyone and their mother know my name?

  “You can’t have her. We both know you don’t want her.” Peter glared.

  “’Captain ordered it. Hand her over now, or you will be destroyed.” The kid had definitely took on puberty full force. His eyes lit up with fire.

  “You’ll have to go through me, ya big brute,” Peter quipped. He was grinning now, making my nerves stand on end.

  The boy shuddered. “You’ll be destroyed.” His voice became even lower with every word he spoke, and suddenly, his body jerked forward and he convulsed.

  Peter grabbed my wrist and yanked me backward in one quick movement.

  “Ow!” I cursed and glared at him, rubbing my wrist when he let go. His face was serious as he pulled something small out of his pocket, but I couldn’t tell what it was. The ground below us began to shake, and when I tore my gaze back to the boy, I let out a small scream of panic.

  The boy was forming into some kind of monster, easily at least eight feet tall.

  Crying out again, I glanced over to Peter, who was now holding a sword. A sword. What was this? Lord of the Rings?

  My head turned back to the monster guy, and my stomach dropped to the floor. He was forming horns and scales—no, more like scaly armor on his upper body. His shirt ripped, and shreds of it flew out near our feet.

  Nobody was around except Peter, me, and a really tall monster, I realized as I looked over what was now looming before us. His form seemed almost… animal-like. Claws, like a crab’s, grew in place of feet and arms, a smile of fangs formed where his freckled face had been, his eyes beady and black. The slithering form of a tail shot out, up, and over his head, the pointed tip painted poisonous black and aimed directly at me.

  Drugs are very, very bad, I thought to myself. Because as the beast grew to completion and bellowed all around us, I realized I recognized it.

  I’d painted it in one of my mosaics before.

  As the light faded from around him and the huge boy-monster roared again, shattering some of the lights hanging from the ceiling, broken bulbs raining down, I couldn’t get myself to move. My ears throbbed as I gaped up at it, absolutely terrified, glass sprinkling into my hair from above.

  While I was dead frozen in panic, the beast looked down and out came a slithering snake of a tongue, the taste buds on its forked ending gliding up my face. As soon as I refocused, I started scooting on my backside, trying to get away, letting out a few panicked squeals.

  Somehow, someway, I’d dreamed of this monster’s exact form. He resembled a… scorpion. But his long torso was that of the boy’s before he’d… transformed, and my painting of him hadn’t been as precise as the real thing.

  Nonetheless, one of my nightmares was right here, in the flesh, staring at me like I his next meal, and the scorpion man was attacking us in the middle of aisle seven, home to canned foods of all varieties.

  I shrieked again as contents of nearby shelves began to fall around me. I dodged canned peas, carrots, and apricots. A few hit my head as the shelf shuddered from one of the gigantic scorpion’s shoulders hitting it, and though I’d never liked those vegetables or fruits, I’d never thought they’d actually come back to haunt me, now pummeling me from above. I held up my arms to deflect them, feeling them bruise my forearms.

  Like out of a movie, Peter moved quickly and slashed his sword at the lizard creature, laughing at him. “Try and catch me, snake!” The monster snorted in anger, trying to sweep Peter out with his claws, letting out an ear-rattling wail. While he tossed his scaled head around and stared at Peter with furious eyes, Peter just chuckled again. “You can do better than that, really, Aqrabuamelu.”

  Great, now we were speaking Spanish or something.

  The scorpion lunged at him, but Peter dodged smoothly, the beast clumsily charging until his striking tail hit a wall of shelves. Cans and boxes burst into the air and showered down on the monster, who tried to free the venomous barb that was stuck in the metal wedges of the shelves now. When he finally yanked it free, he wrenched around and screeched loudly, causing bile to rise in my throat from the terror that came after. This scorpion was ready to kill—ready to kill a certain, very marvelous young girl who had so, so much to live for and a very stupid, stupid young boy named Peter.

  Peter smiled again, dodging another swipe of the scorpion’s long tail, crouching low to the ground. “That should leave a mark,” he taunted, and the fiend snorted, storming again at his target at full speed.

  Then Peter yowled, jumping into the air. Skillfully, his sword submerged into the beast’s head, which jerked back, forcing Peter to fly off, leaving his sword imbedded in the skull.

  I was definitely going to be sick.

  The insect on steroids bellowed in pain, and the same bright light from before ruptured from its head wound. Howling in agony, he began to rise into the air like a star. A terrifying, disgusting, anything-but-beautiful star.

  The light grew blinding for a moment, making me squint, and then it exploded, sending a burst of hot
air smacking into my face and forcing me back onto my butt.

  As I blinked in shock, I found nothing was left of the redheaded boy or the scary beast. Not even a dismembered scale. Poof… it… he was gone.

  I stared motionless at the spot where it disappeared as Peter picked up his sword and sheathed it. A few moments passed, and I noticed I was still on the ground, sore from my fall. Glass and canned goods littered the floor around us; the shelving units, which had once been fully stocked, were battered and empty. I bet the employees here would be just ecstatic about this one.

  Clean up on aisle… everywhere.

  My father had always told me bad things happened so you knew they were bad and you could try and fix them, prevent things like them in the future. So I guessed I had learned my lesson: No talking to strangers because they may be a scorpion-man.

  This was insane, impossible. That did not just happen.

  As I was looking over all the damage, I heard sirens begin to blare from outside, and my heart jumped to my throat. I could not get sent back to the slammer for something I hadn’t even done.

  When Peter rushed over to help me up, I forcefully shoved him away, wiping the dirt from my butt.

  “W-why did that th-thing…?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Did it try to kill us?” I stuttered, breathless. It hurt to breathe.

  “He’s on his side. I should’ve known they’d be coming into the mortal world to find you.” He was pacing now, stepping on the spilled contents of boxes of rice and pastas.

  I watched him, mouth open, my arms wrapped around me tightly.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, fed up with his crazy act. People around us were now screaming, coming out of their hiding places and running toward the exits of the building and away from us. How badly I wanted to go with them, but Peter blocked my only exit, and behind me was a grocery store massacre acting as an unwanted barrier to the other exits.

  “I told you. You aren’t safe,” Peter explained, wiping some crackled Cheez-Its from his shoulder. “They’re coming for you, and they won’t stop until they’ve finally got you. They think if they have you, they’ll have me, too.” He stopped pacing when he noticed I was staring at him in shock. “That was Aqrabuamelu, the scorpion-man from the Neverdeserts of the far islands. He must’ve been recruited, forced to come find you. That devil.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, pacing over crushed boxes of crackers and cookies, stepping over the cans so he wouldn’t slip.