Emily's Protectors Prologue
Two Years Ago
Walking home from work late at night was not one of Emily Baxter’s finest ideas, but her car had broken down the week before and she really didn’t have much choice. Working as a graphic artist gave her a pretty flexible schedule and made it easy to work from home. But every once in a while, her boss would call a staff meeting and everyone had to attend. Why he insisted on having them in the evenings, she would never understand. It was as though he thought that because he was a workaholic, everyone should be, too.
While her social calendar wasn’t screaming with dates every night of the week, she didn’t like having to go out after dark, either. Especially when she was minus a car and it was approaching eleven pm, which meant the bus that could have taken her directly home was no longer running.
Hearing a sound behind her, she turned, only to find the street empty. Shaking off the feeling of being watched she continued on her walk. Since she was only a block and a half away from her small ranch-style house, Emily picked up her pace, only wanting to get home.
Striding as quickly as her short five-foot frame would take her, she was startled when a cat hissed at her as it jumped out from behind a bush before darting across the street. Putting her hand to her chest to try and calm her nerves, Emily stopped and took a couple of deep breaths before picking up the pace and finally breaking into a sprint the rest of the way home.
Dashing to her front door, she missed the warning signs in her haste to be inside. She knew better and to always make sure the door was closed as well as locked, but being in a panic had her frazzled, and she missed the telltale click when unlocking the door. Slamming the heavy wood shut behind her and flipping the locks after she made it inside, it finally dawned on her that she hadn’t heard the deadbolt slide home when she unlocked it.
Tensing, she turned around slowly, preparing for the worst but hoping for the best, that maybe she did forget to lock up when she left or that her mom had come over earlier and forgot to tell her. Knowing it was false hope on her part, Emily pulled her cell phone from her purse prepared to dial 911 and slowly made her way deeper into the house.
Not seeing anything out of place in the living room, she made her way to the kitchen. Everything seemed in order there so she moved down the hall to where the bedrooms and bathroom were.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened the door to her office. Cringing at the squeaky hinges, she took a quick look inside before moving on to the bathroom. Darting her gaze around the room and still seeing nothing wrong, she relaxed even more thinking that it was her mind playing tricks on her about the locks. She finally made it to her room at the end of the hall. Opening the door with a false sense of security and flicking on the light was the biggest mistake she would ever make.
Glancing up and into her room, she froze at the gruesome scene before her. With her panties and bras ripped up and strewn across her bed, blood covering nearly every surface, and nude pictures of her with her eyes scratched out and photoshopped to look like she was bound with chains, Emily lost the fight to stay conscious.
Falling to the ground she noticed a figure lurking in the corner, coming closer to where she was lying motionless and shooting some kind of liquid all over her face and chest before her brain completely shut down in horror.