Some of y’all might remember a little short story I wrote a couple of months ago entitled, My Dark.  It was just a little quickie thing that popped into my head one night about a stalker and a young woman in a parking garage.  That story got some good reviews and people really seemed to like it.  I was very pleased.

One of my faithful readers mentioned that I should enter it into a contest being sponsored by one of those POD online publishers.  I looked over the web site and figured, why not?  Nothing to lose.  So I entered the story and sat back to wait and see if people would vote for it.

The winning author got $250 for his efforts, a man named Dale Moses.  I read his story and rather liked it, and so did more than 200 other people, according to his final vote tally.  Another writer received over a hundred votes for his, so he was deemed runner-up.  Wonder of all wonders, my little story garnered enough votes for a very solid third place in the contest.  Again I was pleased, and the book is now for sale and available at the site of the company.

All of the top ten finalists received (supposedly) a free copy of the book.  Being a finalist, I eagerly awaited some word from the company about how to obtain mine.  Seeing your work in print is a thrill, and I was excited about getting it.  I never heard a word from the company.

This is where the whole thing went south.  Suddenly, and without warning, my log-in and password no longer work on the site.  Any time I try to log in, I’m greeted with a message saying I need to validate my account.  Weird, but whatever.  I click the message and a few seconds later I get an e-mail with a little clickie to do the validation.  The page then pops up with a message congratulating me and stating that my account is now valid.  However, attempting to log in at that point takes me full-circle back to the message stating I need to validate my account.  In short, I’ve been locked out and can’t get in.

There’s a helpful e-mail address for the company at the bottom in the “contact us” link, so I clicked that and typed out a very thoughtful and polite message stating my issue and asking how I might receive my free book.  A few minutes after sending that, Outlook spits it right back to me and informs me that this company has a bogus e-mail address.  So in other words, I’m out of luck.

I suppose it’s not a big deal.  I don’t care all that much about the book.  I just like being able to see my work in print.  So far, I’m 0 for 2 in having my stuff published by anyone other than myself, and it’s a little frustrating.  One of these days I’ll break out though.  You’ll see.  But I’m getting a little tired of these scams.

Update:  I must give credit to the webmaster for this site.  He notified me yesterday of the problem and what caused it, and promptly fixed my account.  Not only that, but he apologized and told me I can contact him with any problems I might have.

I take back what I said about this company being a scam.  It’s not.  I jumped the gun in my remarks, and for that, I apologize.

Dark night, still a little wet from the rain earlier this afternoon.  Muggy too, though not so bad.  Still, pretty dark ’cause of the lingering clouds, highlighted a little by the lights of the city at night.  My time, my element.  My dark.

Waiting like I usually do, mostly bored but always alert.  Smoked one after another, crush them out and light another one.  Bad habit, I know.  Still waiting.

Finally got one later on.  About 2AM probably.  Bars closing down, this one no doubt stumblin’ home after a night out.  Alone too, just as they should be.  I could hear the click, clicking of her heels on the sidewalk, the rhythm just slightly off.  Probably half-drunk, I thought.  Makes them easier sometimes.  Sometimes not though.  I placed the sound, timed it right, followed her into my dark.

I could see her pretty clear.  Walking quickly but a little unsteady, placing her steps.  Going toward the garage at the end of the block.  Not a good place for someone alone, but they never learn do they?  Makes it good for someone like me.  Easy prey.  I’ll never understand why they walk alone.  Almost like they’re asking for it, you know?  Get some friends.  Get someone to walk you out.  pick somebody up… why else you at a bar at 2AM?  On second thought, don’t.  Makes it easier for someone like me.  There will always be someone like me.  Always there is prey and there is predator.

Perfect this time.  No one else around, garage almost empty.  I could hear her heels click, clicking along, echoing off the walls.  I pulled in a little closer, confidence building.  You know, perfect this time.  Usually, there’s one or two other people about.  People stumbling home themselves, or lost their cars on the wrong level.  Sometimes teenagers sneaking a quickie in the dark.  Very dangerous.  Don’t they know there’s unsavory sorts around?  Ha!  I chuckle to myself.  Not this time; no one else around.  My instincts are pretty good.  No one else but me and her.  Just the two of us in my dark.

She must be drunk, or lost.  She’s stopped, looking around, can’t find her car.  Betcha she’s on the wrong level.  She senses something too… just a hint.  She looks around, but I’m behind the pillar.  She won’t see me, not yet at least.  She’ll feel me before she sees me.  I can almost taste it already.  She’s still scanning, looking nervous.  Can’t see her face though, but it don’t matter.  Now she makes a decision, turns back and makes her way around.  She glances over her shoulder, glances the other way, picks up her pace toward the stairs.  Up towards the darker part, up near the top.  Funny that.  Now she’s got it… a hint maybe, but I smell it.  There’s fear in the air, and it’s on.

I’m following now, not being as cautious.  She knows I’m here, even if she hasn’t seen me.  It’s my second-favorite part, the hunt.  I like it when they sense me, like it when they fear.  Her pace is still quick, but steadier now.  Surprising how fear can sober you up.  Her fear, my delight.  She’s up the stairs, and I’m near the bottom now myself.  The click, clicking has stopped.

Probably took off those shoes, I’m thinking.  Uncomfortable probably, or maybe she’s thinking of running.  Smart one, she is.  Gotta watch the smart ones.  Sometimes they have those little cans of pepper spray and think that will protect them.  Not too effective, those cans.  I was in the forces back before, and they taught us how to handle that stuff.  Still stings like a bitch, but if you make yourself ready for them, you can take it.  Anyway, not too effective, those cans.  I won’t worry.  I’m up the stairs now too, and I can see her walking.  She’s nervous, no doubt.  She knows.  Doesn’t matter, there’s no one else around and it’s dark.  It’s dark, and it’s lonely.  I fall in behind and match her pace.  She’s still scanning; she’s fretting, looking for her car.  Betcha it’s not on this level either.  Betcha she’s not gonna find it, here in my dark.

Wonder why she’s not calling.  Making a call, I mean.  Everyone’s got a phone these days.  Not that it would matter, cause no one would get here.  No one is coming.  Still clutching that little purse, but hasn’t opened it.  Not that I’ve seen.  Got that purse in one hand and those shoes in the other.  No more click, clicking, but it doesn’t matter either.  Little purse too, not a practical one.  Little purse, the kind they take with just the essentials.  The kind they take just for show.  That’s good, means she don’t have a gun.  Probably no pepper spray either.  Not very effective anyway, those little cans.  Maybe a knife, but that don’t matter either.

She’s nervous… anxious, looking around now every couple of steps.  Can’t see me though.  Shouldn’t, anyway.  Doesn’t matter… she can feel it.  I can smell it.  The fear, I mean.  She’s looking around every couple of steps, quickening her pace.  Can’t see her face, but that don’t matter.  I match her, step for step.  Match her pace, following and smelling.  Ever the predator.  I’m on the scent, and she feels the fear.  This is good.  This is right.  Just like I like it.  There is prey and there is predator.

Little one, she is.  Betcha she’s a fighter too.  Probably took one of them self-defense courses for women.  Probably knows some holds and blocks and stuff.  I was in the forces back before, and they taught us stuff too.  I’m not worried.  It don’t matter, ’cause those classes are shit anyway.  They teach you some holds and some blocks, and they teach you to scream “fire” real loud, but they don’t prepare you for the moment.  They don’t prepare you for the fear.  You can’t get that in a classroom, no way.  Can’t get that in no gym.  She’s a little one, probably not real strong, and it don’t matter anyway.  Maybe she’s got a knife, or a little can of spray, but it don’t matter.  This is my element, and it’s my dark.

I’m closing now.  She could see me if she turned, a shadow in the dark.  She’s not looking now though, not now.  She’s walking fast, but not fast enough.  She’s got the fear, and I smell it in the air.  Her car’s not on this level either, I betcha it’s not.  She’s lost now, and she’s gonna panic.  They always do, no matter what.  They always panic and sometimes they run.  They never fight, not never.  This one is still walking, but she feels me behind her.  Just a shadow.  Closing behind her.  She won’t look, they usually don’t.  It’s the fear.  You don’t wanna see it, do you?  She won’t look, but she won’t stop.  She’s going around now, back toward the stairs.  She won’t make it.

The light is out here.  Flickers a bit.  Little light in the garage that hangs over the cars.  Florescent light, but it’s out except it flickers a little.  Darker here, lots of shadows.  Lost her for a second, but see her again now.  She stopped.  They never stop, they usually run.  They never fight.  Got her back to me too, but she’s not walking… not running.  Just standing in the shadow, sometimes the flicker.  Does she have a gun?  Maybe a knife or a little can of spray?  It don’t matter, she’s just a little one.  This one is different, but it don’t matter.  She’s stopped with her back to me, not far from the stairs, in the shadow where the light is burned out but sometimes flickers.  Just stopped, not moving.  What is this?

Got my knife out now.  Made it myself, real effective.  I was in the forces back before, and they taught us stuff.  Made this knife, and it’s a good one.  Got it out now and I’m walking, still some ways away, but I’m closer.  Getting closer and she’s still standing there, back to me and not moving.  Musta scared her shitless.  She must be frozen in fear.  It don’t matter, I got my knife out now, and it’s a good one.  She’s little, and she’s not going nowhere now.  She’s not moving still, but it don’t matter.  She won’t make it even if she runs.  I got her now, I got her here in my dark.

I’m in the shadow now, and I can see her real clear in the sometimes flicker.  She’s not shaking, not moving, not callin’ for help.  She’s not doing anything but standing, not moving at all.  I’m walking up slowly; got my knife out.  She must be scared stiff, I can smell the fear.  Is it fear?  I can smell… is it blood?  Smells like blood.  I can hear the thump, thumping of a heartbeat real loud.

Now she turns.  I can see her face now.  Looks right at me, right at me with those red eyes.  And that smile.  She’s smiling, that evil smile with those sharp teeth in the corners.  Red eyes and those sharp white teeth, and that evil smile here in the shadow.  Why is she smiling?  What is this?  I can smell the fear, but now it’s my fear.  I can smell the blood, but now it’s my blood.  I can hear the thump, thumping of a heartbeat real loud.   And still she smiles.  I got my knife out, but it don’t matter.  She dropped those shoes and that purse and she’s walking toward me real slow, smiling that smile.  There is prey and there is predator.

I think I screamed.