He sits nervously in the cafe booth, staring into the now, cold cup of coffee, the door swings open and the bell attached rings. He spins quickly around, his eyes wide, frantic, they lock with hers and she smiles, faintly, he leaps from his seat and clutches her close, and leads her back to the booth.
“Thank god you came,” he says, his voice raspy, dry.
“I came as quick as I could, my god Sam, what the hell is going on? You found her didn’t you?”
“Oh god Nancy, if we had time, if I, had time, I’d tell you, but,” he says, staring down at the table, he feels the tears well up in his eyes. “But, I just don’t, just tell you brought it?” He asks, looking back up at her.
She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a yellow folder and places it on the table, before looking back up at him, her eyes show the disappointment she feels, as well as the fear, “Don’t do this Sam, don’t lock me out,” she says, as she reaches out towards him.
“Don’t Nancy, it has to be this way, things, things have happened, and, I have to leave, I have to get far away from here, from….” his words stop in their tracks, as the bell rings again, he spins his head towards the door, as the world seemingly becomes enveloped in darkness, a light, a mist, and then, she stands there, in the doorway, and, for what seems like forever, stays that way.
He feels his heart skip, his mouth becomes dryer than ever before, and, as he swallows, he feels a million or more razor blades rip into his throat, its then that she moves forward, towards him, like a puppet on strings, a staggering, jittery mess of arms, legs, and a torso, all moving separately, but together, and then, her head reveals itself, seeming to leap onto her shoulders from out of the darkness, her mouth open wide, her eyes red raw, dilated, moving frantically around in their sockets, she sways, staggers and stumbles her way to him, until she comes to a stop a few feet from the table.
He feels the sweat run down his brow, his shirt collar tighten around his throat, like hands, and his lungs scream for air, then, she smiles, a jittery, frenzied smile, before reaching out with an arm, as her head falls to rest on her shoulder, an insane smile on her face, as a finger reaches out towards the frozen Sam, and touches his chest lightly.
Nancy sits across from him as he crashes lifelessly to the table, she screams frantically for someone to call an ambulance as she rushes to his side, but she know it’s too late, and like the rest, like everyone else she’s claimed, his face is now marked with her sign, an insane smile.