Trapped by Truth

Hunter Colby rode inside elevator three in Bellevue Hospital. He used the collar of his coat to try and shield his face from the only other passenger.


“You look familiar.” A nun leaned to the side, staring at Hunter.


He feigned a cough. “I have one of those faces.”


“And a beautiful face it is. Hey, I know you.” She snapped her fingers. “I remember! You’re Hunter Colby. I taught you sixth grade.”


He hated when his past caught up with him. He wondered if denial would work but he saw the old woman had a sharp mind. He nodded, “Hello Sister Helen.”


Her smile changed to concern when the elevator jolted to a stop. The lights dimmed. She pushed every button, but it didn’t move. “We’re stuck.”


The last thing Hunter wanted was to face the scrutiny of his favorite nun. She stretched her arms, leaving him little choice but to hug her. He grimaced, making sure to avoid solid contact.


She looked at his face and said, “Boy, you really need to see the sun more.”


“I work nights.”


She squinted, scanning him from top to bottom.


Hunter felt uneasy, “Is something wrong?”


Sister Helen stepped back, fiddling with her rosary.


Hunter moved away from her and toward the door. He needed to get out. He placed his hands on the door and grunted. “Perhaps there’s a mechanism I could release to slide the door open.”


“Forget about the door, Hunter.” She rested her back in the opposite corner.


“What’s happened to you? Last I heard you worked for the FBI.”


Hunter did his best not to meet her stare. He glanced at the ceiling and saw what looked like a trapped door. It was closed.


“Young man, let’s play a game.”


His gaze moved from the top of the elevator to the nun. Her red face seemed to lose its color. “What kind of game?”


“Let’s play Truth or Dare.” She grinned. Though her lips curled, her blue eyes were wide as if she studied a fascinating creature under a microscope. She lowered her voice. “Go ahead, ask me first.”


Hunter gazed at the ceiling again. If he wanted out of the contraption, nothing could stop him.


“Alright Sister Helen, I’ll play your game. Tell me a truth.”


The grin that looked pasted on her face faded. “I can see auras. I remember yours because most days it was orange. You were adventurous to a fault.”


Hunter kept his body still. Once again he glanced at the closed square lid.


She barely let out enough breath, but said, “Truth.”


He opened his arms as if they were wings. “I’m no longer an FBI agent.”


She rubbed her crucifix and managed to yell out, “Dare!”


He smiled. “I thought it was my turn.” He lowered his arms. “What do you want, Sister?”


She had a wild look in her eyes. “I dare you to tell me why you no longer have an aura and to let me live.”


He raised a pair of fingers, “That’s two more things. I’ve only gone once.” He extended his hands perpendicular to his hips. His body hovered a foot off the ground. “My adventures led me to my death.”


The frightened sister did the sign of the cross and prayed.


“Where was God when my maker ended my human existence?” Anger festered inside him like boiling water. He flashed his fangs at Sister Helen.


“No!” She lifted her crucifix as if to keep him away. “You must wait for the rising sun and pray God forgives you while you meet your end.”


Hunter glided closer to her, careful not to let her touch him. “You want me to commit suicide? That’s a sin!”


“In your case it’s a sacrifice. Hunter, have you taken human lives?”


He saw how his favorite nun transformed from a woman in total fear of him to complete disgust. Hunter should have listened to his maker and fed before leaving the secret lair, hidden in the subway tunnels. The hunger got stronger. Her rapid heartbeat called to him. He dared glide closer until they were face to face.


“Feed off me if you must.” Sister Helen sounded tired. She took off the crucifix and pocketed it.


Surprised at the woman’s change of heart, Hunter leaned closer until his lips caressed her neck. He bit hard. His fangs pierced her soft skin. Images of their time together in sixth grade bombarded his mind. Their interlude revealed secrets of lust never realized. She longed to be touched, to be taken by a man.


Hunter let go. He sliced his wrist open with a fingernail and allowed his blood to cover and instantly seal her wound. At her age, she would lose consciousness, but not her life.


“Thanks for the drink Sister.” He flew through the trapdoor, tearing it off, landing on the top of the elevator. He pulled down on a cable and the elevator went up until it drew even with the floor. He heard the door slide open. He jumped back inside and carried the good nun out to safety.


Hunter placed Sister Helen on an empty gurney that was in the hall. He wished the old myth about vampires not having a reflection was true. He made his way into the security room and flashed his FBI credentials to a security guard. “I need to see the video for elevator three.”


“You’ve got a warrant?”


Using his powers of persuasion, Hunter got the young man to erase the footage and forget about it ever happening.


As he exited the hospital, another voice from his past called out to him. “Hunter?”


When he turned in the direction of the deep voice, he remained stoic.


“It is you.” His ex-partner looked baffled. “Where have you been?”


Before he could answer, a woman’s scream pierced through the night air. Agent Miles reached for his gun, “Let’s go take a look, Hunter.” He sprinted in the direction of an alley. Again a woman screamed.


Hunter didn’t use his powers. He followed his old friend and watched as two thugs approached the elder agent with knives. He spotted a third man, pointing a gun, hiding behind a dumpster. The heathen aimed his weapon. In a flash, Hunter stopped the man from firing his gun, squeezing tight, crunching the would-be-cop-killer’s hand. Shielded by the dumpster, he drained the evil man of his blood.


Afterward, he saw Agent Miles had the other two men in custody and the woman was safe. He vanished before his old friend could realize what he had become.


As Hunter traveled back to his lair, he hoped his maker did not punish him for visiting his old neighborhood. His thoughts returned to Sister Helen. The amazing woman knew what he had become. She managed to trap him with the truth. He suspected that sooner or later, his master would know about his ill advised journey to see his mother as she passed on to a more peaceful existence. He realized that his mom was lucky to die. He whispered, “I’ll miss you, mom.”




- 1, 184 words 

© Copyright 2010 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.