Rated: R or M

Genre: Horror/Suspense

Summary: A family is being stalked by a dangerous predator of the night with his eyes set on the daughter. Warning: Contains strong language, mature content, and rape.

A/N: Finally! After three years in the making, I have finally finished this story! It all started with a dream I had and ever since I knew this would be an excellent story. I hope you all like and please leave a review!

Pearl

By: Heather Grey

Pearl, Michigan

May 11, 2008

11:45 pm

The low drumming roar of Lake Superior crashed against the cliff; dark, bubbly foam sprayed over the rocks, the cool breeze carrying the lake's kisses across the land. The sky was black with tiny twinkling lights dancing above and the silvery moon shone its brilliance. The world was silent, saved the rushing waves that met earth and retreated back in shame for its abuse.

It was beautiful.

I sat near the edge, my bare legs dangling over the cliff where my home sat not too far off. The wind went straight through me, sending chills throughout my body. For a second, I regretted coming out in my pajamas and light jacket, but it lasted only a second.

This was the only time I could feel at peace. This was the only time when the lake, the stars, the moon, the night belonged to me.

I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and took in the sounds around me: a distant hoot of an owl, the chirping chorus of the crickets.

I leaned back on my arms, soaking in the stimulation of the senses. My mouth slightly opened, my tongue sticking out to taste the damp air. This was my heaven, my haven from my chaotic life. I am able to forget I'm the middle child—different and imperfect. The Disappointment I like to call myself. Of course, my parents will deny this; never admit that I fell below their expectations. That I wasn't Samantha.

But I know and it doesn't bother me.

I thrive on my difference. I rebel conformity and rules. Lydia, the dark one; Samantha, the light one.

Don't get me wrong, I love my older sister. I have nothing against her. If anything, she was jealous of me. One night she confided in me that she wished she had my spark, my defiance towards authority. She wished she could speak her mind without a care about the consequences. She wished that she failed rather exceed the expectations. She wished she wasn't going to medical school to become a doctor. It wasn't her fault that our parents assumed this of her. She excelled in math and science, particularly in anatomy. She was fascinated by the human body, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to heal people for the rest of her life.

She could have said no. She could have changed her mind and followed her dream to become an actress. Instead, she obeyed like the good daughter that she was and applied to a very good medical school. Being a doctor was practical, she rationalized. Stable. Constant. An actress was not guaranteed that stability.

That was her logic and that was her path.

Although, I can tell inside she was miserable. Behind her smiles, she was crying a river. She would rather quote from Shakespeare, instead of memorizing the difficult pronunciation of the correct medical terms.

Coagulopathy. Whatever the fuck that means.

Despite my love for her, I hate her.

I hate her sobs in the middle of the night, her decisions she made, and her wish that things were different. Countless times I've told her to tell Mom and Dad the Truth. Tell them what you really want.

Countless times she replied she can't. She doesn't want to crush their hopes for her. She doesn't want to waste their money. She doesn't want to be a Disappointment.

So I tell her to quit her crying and live with the misery. And she'll continue crying until she falls asleep.

My parents were not bad when they wanted to be. I believe they would understand if Sam changed her mind. Yet, Sam believes she shouldn't change her mind. That she should be happy because they're happy.

She took the burden, I flung it far away. I'm happy being the Disappointment. At least I'm free to do what I want. And I don't have to live up to expectations.

Sam will be coming home soon for the summer. She was on her way. She would have been here earlier, but she had some car trouble. No one's worried. Neither was I until I came out here.

The air became heavy; the waves pounded the earth hard.

Something was going to happen.

11:48 pm

The rain came unexpected.

Samantha let out a tiny curse, and then apologized to the empty vehicle. She hated cursing.

But today was a day of cursing. It was nothing but string of bad luck. For example, the trip home, which should have took one day if she limited any stops, ended up going on day three. Bad enough that the drive from East Lansing to Pearl was over four hundred miles, but for it to extend like this? It all started with her last final. She needed an extra ten minutes. She never took an extra anything for a class. She always finished on time. Then somebody poured coffee on her favorite blouse as she was rushing out of the building to get to her car. Then on top of that, her car broke down after she made the change from US 127 to I-75 northbound to the bridge.

The tow truck took three hours to find her, and then a half hour for them to find the nearest auto center—which was getting ready to close—only to find out that the radiator hose split and the brand that was needed to fix it had to wait until the next day. So Sam stayed in a questionable motel room until she could go back. Once the car was repaired, she was back on her way, but trouble once again struck when traffic was stopped by a six car pile up and that became day number two. Finally, the only obstacle standing in her way from home was typical traffic moving at a slow rate, but no accidents thank God.

Just when the drive was picking up and it was actually looking pretty bright for Sam, then the rain began to fall.

It was the icing on the cake.

Sighing, Sam gripped the steering wheel and maneuvered her way through the slick roads. Finally, she made the last turn, heading west, which would take her home. She hated driving at night, especially driving through the woods. Even though Sam spent her whole life surrounded by the forest, it was creepy in the evenings. All those twisted, dark branches and gigantic trunks that extended up into the sky and blocking the daylight freaked her out. Lydia loved them, although she was a peculiar thing and enjoyed anything that Sam didn't.

Fifteen minutes. That's all I have left and I'll be home.

The thought comforted her, easing her mind from the uneasiness the night brought. It was a fear that she had ever since she was a child, something she couldn't shake until she went to college. Somehow, living in the city didn't make her afraid of the darkness. But living in the Upper Peninsula, in Pearl, a person was isolated from civilization. The closest city was Marquette, but even that was thirty miles. Home was in a secluded area within the forest and their next door neighbor was really a couple miles away. The only pro when it came to the location was the lovely view of Lake Superior and on clear days you could see the coastline of Canada.

Sam missed the lake. She counted down the days when she could lie on the beach and feel the fingers of the water reach out and touch her.

Her daydream was suddenly interrupted when she spotted a dark figure standing in the middle of the road. Slamming on the brakes, she grounded her teeth as the wheels locked and skidded across the slick pavement. The squealing halted and Sam's back collided back in her seat. Pushing her blonde strands from her face, she looked behind to see what it was.

A shadow stood, unmoving. Most likely stunned by what happened.

Sam went into doctor mode. Ignoring the pelting drops, she got out of her car and jogged over to the person.

"Are you all right? I'm a med student. Is there anything wrong-?" Her voice trailed off.

A pale cheek stared at her, the only contrast to the entire black ensemble. A hood covered most of the face, the head dipped down to the chest. He (Sam was assuming it was a he for his lean built) was several inches taller than her and all she could hear was a slight wheeze in his breathing.

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't see you. Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you. You know, I would probably prefer if I did to make sure everything was all right."

The wheezing became harsher, his body quivering with each intake of air. And that cheek… So white…

"Sir?" Sam said. "Hello? Is there anything I can do?"

He stepped forward, the hood falling back. In a low, snarling voice, he whispered, "Yes. As a matter of fact there is…" And lunged.

Her neck snapped effortlessly, not a sound was made. Yet, if there was, no one would have heard. Blood spilled down her creamy white throat, sharp teeth and tongue ravaged the tangy juices.

Hunger continued to rage on. Sharp nails clawed its way, tearing the wet jacket and shirt, exposing the torso. Bright jagged red lines streaked across the chest, dripping onto the pavement, mixed with the rain. Burbling, gurgling. Teeth gnashing as taut arms held the body close. Savoring… Delicious.

The body dropped, her arm sprawled across the road. Short, curly blonde locks stuck to the forehead and cheek, pink mouth opened, and terror-stricken blue eyes gazing off in the distance of home sweet home and Lake Superior's waves.

TBC...