A psychological horror about a young man and a demon that plague his thoughts and reality. |
WHITE AS SNOW Prologue "I feel it. You're watching me aren't you?" I can feel him...he's always there. No...NO! You don't understand, you couldn't understand. No one understands any more. I feel him. Aheh...heh...hehehe...I can...tell. I see the blood on the walls, dark red streaks running down the walls. It calls me, says my name. "Stop calling ME! I'm here!" What happened you ask me. But I don't tell you. Because you know. You know what he is, don't you?! Yes, you do. But you call me a FREAK! You lie and burn, so it tells me to kill you. And now you're dead. Aheh...heh..hehe...... Chapter 1 - Part 1 "Mom!" I call to her, trying to get her attention. The birds chirp in the trees, the sweet autumn breeze flowing across my body as I run past the field of cool grass. "What, Damion?" She's calls back. "I finished all of my homework!" I shouted, relieved for so little. She says good, and she is happy too. We are a poor family, and my mother works at a bookstore as a cashier. Fretton doesn't have very many people living in the city, and not many people buy books, but we manage. She manages to operate a small gardening business on the side, and sells home-grown vegetables and herbs from our house for as much money as we can. Ever since Father passed away, we've had a hard time. My younger brother Joley helps mother to weed and work the garden when she's busy. I am 14, a man, THE man of the household. My mother is very proud of me. She says I am turning into my father more every day. I swell with pride, as my father was a very strong man. Every day is a new day, a struggle, but a good one. The struggle of life makes one feel alive, you know? "Mom, I'll go pull the weeds, and water the plants!" I say over my shoulder as I run to the garden patch, pulling my garden shears from a pocket. I walk to the garden and begin pulling weeds with my trowel, dark dirt crumbling in my fingers. I do love the garden, and the smell of dirt. I breathe in deeply, savoring the musty smell of the earth. Looking down at the weed I pulled, I see a small pebble in the plant's roots. "Hey, mister pebble, you got stuck." I say with a grin on my face. Grabbing the pebble with my gloved fingers, I yank it off of the root. 'Funny shaped pebble,' I think to myself, carefully dusting some crusted dirt off of it. But wait, it isn't a pebble at all! It's a tooth! How neat is that. An animal's tooth, wrapped in roots. 'I wonder how long that tooth has been sitting there, all alone.' I think to myself. 'Hey, if there's one tooth, I bet there's more!' I think excitedly. Interesting finds like these don't happen very often. I dig around in the soil, carefully feeling for anything hard that might be a tooth. I find several small pebbles, and a rock shaped like a face, but no more teeth. Ah well. I continue my weeding, and, after finishing, I cross over to the family well for some water for the dog. The well is an old brick well with a little thatch roof on it. My great-grandfather dug it more than 100 years ago, my mother says. The water is cool and clean, and has a refreshing tang of things dissolved in the water from the ground. I lower the old wooden bucket in, tieing a rope on it to ensure it doesn't fall down the 50 foot deep well. I lower until I hear the faint splash that says it has found water, and begin pulling it up. Or, trying too, anyway. It won't move... The bucket won't come up. I heave on the old winch, angry that the stupid bucket got caught on a rock. "Errr...NNGGG!!" I heave, but it won't budge. 'Fine,' thinks I, 'I'll lower it to get it un-stuck, and then pull it up.' I lower it a few feet, but nothing happens. It still won't come up. Suddenly, the winch is ripped violently from my hands and starts spinning rapidly. "Wha...what the..." I say to myself, incredulously. THIS has never happened before. I am not afraid, just a little dumbstruck. Being the man I am, and not afraid of a seemingly possessed winch...haha...the thought of a possessed winch makes me chuckle a little, I lean over and look into the well. Nothing. Total darkness. I listen, straining for some faint sound of an animal that might be pulling my winch and my rope. No sound at all. Not even splashing. The winch runs out of rope...all...200 feet of it. I hesitate, maybe a little frightened. The rope came off the winch and fell...well, it looked like it was pulled straight down, right into the well. I listen for the splash. Nothing. Chapter 1 - Part 2 I hesitate for a moment, then begin jogging. Running. Sprinting. "Mother! Mother!" I yell, trying to get her attention. She is at her vegetable garden, trimming away the dead leaves from a tomato plant. She hears me and looks up, afraid I might be hurt. "Damion! What's the matter?" she calls to me as I sprint faster towards her. Now that the whole event has happened, the memories begin to scare me a bit. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and it frightens me. I finally run over to her and stop, the exertion of running several thousand feet making me breathe quite hard. "Mother! I was pulling up water from the well...*pant*...and the bucket...*wheeze*...got stuck...and it wouldn't move! *pant*" I try to get out, the words slightly obscured by my harsh, heavy breathing. "Well, that's happened before." she says with a chuckle and a smile. My mother's smiles are always beautiful, her brilliant white teeth always make me feel better. "just let more rope out, and then pull it up." she finishes. "I tried! It got stuck at the lower rope level too!" I said. That was very unusual. If you let more rope out, it should get unstuck. "Then, the rope started being...I don't know...almost like it was being pulled down! The winch ripped out of my hands and started spinning really, really fast! The winch kept on going and going until it ran out of rope, and then the rope fell off the winch and got pulled in! But there wasn't any splash!" After I finished the story, I realized I had been babbling. "Whoa there, son, breathe." she said with another chuckle. "I'll tell you what. Let's go over to the well and see what the problem is. Ok?" "Ok." I said, relieved that she believed me when I said that there was a problem. We walked through the knee high grass, the breeze making the grass wave in graceful patterns across the field. One of our neighbors' bull steers lowed in a far away pasture. We'd used to own steers as well, when Father was still alive, but after he passed away from luekemia, we couldn't afford to keep them. I began to feel better. Mother always had a calming effect on me. Nothing bad could happen when she was around. She was leading as we walked to the well, with me around 10 feet behind her, trailing her steps. She got up to the old brick well, and turned around to face me. I was still trailing, and I caught up to her. "Now what is the problem, Damion?" she asked, not nearly so bright and smiling as she had been. "I don't appreciate you bringing me all the way to the well as a prank, son." Having NO idea what she was talking about, I asked her what she meant. She pointed to the well and said, "I thought you said the bucket and rope were pulled into the well, and they got stuck, right?" I replied, "Yes, the winch just started spinning!" She moved out of the way and pointed at the well. "So I suppose it goes the other way too then?" she stated, obviously getting a bit angry. Still not comprehending what she meant, I passed her and walked over to the well. What I saw terrified me. A bucket with a rope attached to the winch sat on the ground next to the well, filled with cool, clean well water. Chapter 1 - Part 3 I was dumbstruck. I couldn't talk. My mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. I was speechless from terror. I SAW that bucket fall in. You HAVE to believe me. It fell in...I know it! I...I...didn't know what to say to my mother, who was standing a few feet from the well, tapping her foot. "But..it..I SAW it...fall...." I said feebly, trying to convince her unsuccessfully. She stop tapping her foot. "Well, I don't know what you saw, but it's obvious it was a childish prank. The bucket is right there!" she sighed, obviously disappointed in me. "Next time, just get the water WITHOUT trying to waste my time..." She walked off back to the vegetable patch, muttering a few random sayings under her breath. I was terrified. 'Am I going crazy?' I wondered to myself. I walked over and looked inside the well. Still nothing but darkness. I bent over, untied the rope from the handle, and picked up the bucket of water, and began walking over to the heifer's pasture a small distance away from the well. As I walked, I tried to think of possible explanations for the incident with the well, but nothing fit. NOTHING I could think of would make any sense. I reflected that it felt colder...and the breeze was a bit stronger. 'Maybe a storm's coming,' I thought to myself. Normally I liked storms, but this prospect did not cheer me. I got to the pasture and filled my dog Theo's small water trough with the bucket. The water began turning an odd color, a sort of murky brown. It got more vivid the more water I poured in, until it turned a bright crimson. It looked just like blood. Blink. The water was clear. That abrupt of a shift in color in the space of my single blink was enough to make me blink again. Blink. Red. Blink. Clear. I dumped the rest of the water in, and quickly turned around. I didn't want to stay by that trough any longer than I needed. The bucket felt slimey, and the inside was coated in black. I hastily dropped it. As I turned to start running back, I saw something in the corner of my vision. I quickly turned, but nothing was there. I figured it was a bird, but it had seemed larger...like a man. But no man moves that quickly, so I wasn't frightened. I was still a bit pre-occupied by the color changing water as well. It wasn't until I sprinted back to Mother that I realized that birds are not white... And the figure in the corner of my eye was a brilliant white...white as snow. Chapter 1 - Part 4 bu-bump The deep rumble echoes. Off of what, I do not know. I see nothing but total darkness. I try to stand up, and suddenly I can see. I find myself on the ceiling of my room. My bed that I sleep on is above me, along with the rug, and everything else I own. bu-bump I decide that I am actually on the floor, and all my belongings are attached to the ceiling. A coarse grey light pervades the room, taking away nearly all color, rendering the world I usually live in a dark, drab nightmare without brightness. bu-bump Blink. The room I stand in is not my own any longer. I am on the ceiling of a room, tiled with green and yellow, but they all look grey. The chandeliers extend up from the ceiling, even though I stand on it as well. I look at my hands. I still have color, but it is twisted, like I am covered in oil that distorts me. bu-bump I see a door to my left, a stout wooden door made from thick planks. bu-bump I walk to the door, and begin extending my hand to grasp the thick bronze doorknob. bu-bump The sound continues to echo throughout the room, off of the nice chandeliers, and the wallpaper. bu-bump It comes from behind the door I think. bu-Bump I grab the handle. bu-BUMP The sound gets louder. Bu-BUMP I pull. Bu-BUMP The BU-BUMP hinges squeek BU-BUMP as the door BU-BUMP opens. Silence. Nothing is on the other side. The door opens to nothing but a grayish brick wall. After the resounding thuds of the echo, the silence feels deafening. I turn. The room is gone. Nothing but darkness...filled with the grey light, which illuminates nothing. I see gold. Bright gold. Two golden eyes peer at me from the darkness. BU-BUMP The sound is deafening. A high pitched whine fills my ears, until my head feels ready to explode. The eyes turn red, a dark scarlet the color of blood. They get closer and closer until I see nothing but a dark red glow. BU-BUMP I can feel them by now. The eyes, they feel of nothing but malice and hate, all enveloped inside the eyes. I am drawn, the darkness swirling around me at incredible speeds. I can feel them. They feel me. I know. They tell me. How? I don't know, like they speak in my head. BU-BUMP A deafening roar of wind in my ears tells me to open my eyes, as up until now they have been closed. Or have they? I do not know. I open my eyes. Silence once more. A man in white stands before me. His robes are white as snow. BU-BUMP! Suddenly, the beating returns, louder than the most deafening thunder, the whine permeating into my very soul. I feel Bu-BUMP I feel Bu-BUMP I Bu-BUMP BU-BUMP BU-BUMP ..... I hear a voice that sounds of the world screaming in agonizing pain call me. "DAMION..." Darkness consumes me. Chapter 1 - Part 5 "DAMION...DAMIon...DAmion...Damion...damion..." the deep agonizing shriek of the voice echoes to stillness. I come too in the grip of some wet black entity, that muffles my screams and prevents me from moving. I feel hands gripping me. "DAMION!" a voice calls from nearly beside my head. The damp grip weakens, the voice gets louder. "DAMION!" I thrash and flail, wildly trying to free myself. Suddenly, I see a figure, totally black, like the dead of midnight. The grip lets go, and I scream loudly. "DAMION, wake up!" I quit thrashing. I recognize that the figure in total black is my mother, in a dark brown nightgown, made black from the night. The evil creature restraining me were my twisted bedsheets, soaked through with my cold sweat from my nightmare. My mother is calling me, rather frantic. "Damion, what's gotten into you!" she commands more than questions. "You woke me up from a dead sleep, yelling and screaming about the color white! Honestly, you would just NOT wake up for anything! I shook you and shook you, but you just stayed out. Honestly, it was like something wouldn't LET you wake up," she said, chuckling slightly. I failed to see the humor. I was drenched in sweat, but I was shivering cold. The night seemed foul and evil, and my mother was an alien to it, like she didn't belong here. Though not confined to the realms of nightmares any more, I still felt terrified. I let her fuss over me, her motherly instincts not letting a child of hers be afraid of the dark. I could see Joley's bright eyes shining in the dark, obviously very frightened as well. "Now I'll get you a nice cup of milk, and you go back to sleep. We have a very full day tomorrow, and you need rest. "All right Mother." I said, exhausted from my trip into the realm of fear. She returned after a moment with a glass filled with fresh milk, and I finished it quickly. My mouth was dry as a bone, and I felt awful all over. I sank into my messy bed sleepily, but sleep eluded me that night. I couldn't get over the dream. It felt so real. I awoke from a light doze, in which I tossed and turned constantly, and, still exhausted, began to prepare for the new day. I told myself today was a new day, and everything would get better. I hoped I was right. Chapter 1 - Part 6 I groggily rose from my sweat-soaked sheets with the singing of the birds, signifying the approach of dawn. Sleep had not visited me again after the nightmare, and the heavy thumping of the beating heart still haunted me. For a dream, it had seemed incredibly vivid. I rarely remembered my dreams, and even the ones I did remember never stayed with me like that one. I thought back to the man in white...and shuddered. Even though I couldn't see his face, or features of him, I knew...I KNEW in my soul, my very heart that he was pure evil. Anyone knows that animals are more attuned to the land of the supernatural than we, more attuned to the very earth itself. When it will storm, the animals pace and whine, nervously pawing the ground. Somehow, they know. When they meet someone bad, they get the same way; they get anxious and nervous, pawing the ground and struggling against a leash or collar to get away. The man...if he WAS a man...felt like that for me. I just had a instinct. My intuition or something told me...well, maybe not told, maybe more like beat me upside the head with the knowledge that he was not someone who was friendly. The eyes...Ugh. I dressed, throwing on a black hoodie sweatshirt with AC-DC's lightning bolt logo on the front, proclaiming how they'd salute those about to rock, and then a pair of slightly torn blue jeans and old blue and white tennies. I slogged sleepily to the kitchen, stepping over a still-sleeping Theo, and half-heartedly ate my breakfast of cold cereal. My mother walked over and asked me a bit worriedly if I was all right. I attempted a faint shadow of a smile, and told her I'd be fine. She said, "Good, honey. Sometimes I worry about you." and walked away. I went out and, avoiding the well, did my obligatory few morning chores. Then, it hit me. Today was the day we'd go into town! This prospect cheered me greatly. I loved going into town. The big city smells, and tastes, and sights...oh, it was grand. We'd get extra money for selling our vegetables and stuff, oh yes. Today would be a better day. I smiled, and walked back inside the house. "All right Mother, what do you need help with?" I called, and she directed me to go bring the minivan to the shed. I walked outside and made a beeline to where we kept the ancient wood paneled Chrysler minivan, right under a tree a few yards from the house. I stepped lively, nearly jogging with anticipation at the prospect of going into Gotheridge. I hummed quietly to myself, random tuneless snatches from here and there being whisked away on the early morning chill. I got to the van tree as I called it, and stopped. It was an enormous 80 foot plus tall red oak tree, and it was just beginning to just a rustic brown for the fall. I had thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but I might have been mistaken. It was up high on a thick branch of the large, ancient oak, but there wasn't anything there. 'The birds are out too!' I thought cheerfully to myself, and stopped untying the wagon to listen to their melodic trills. Except for one thing. Aside from the wind, the forest surrounding my house and farm was silent. No birds sang. No insects chirruped. Nothing at all. The wind gusted, and, feeling a bit chillier, I pulled my fleece jacket higher around my shoulders and continued untying the wagon, whistling now. I wasn't frightened, as I wasn't thinking about how attuned animals are to the other world. Chapter 1 - Part 7 I continued whistling my tuneless melody, untying the rather complicated knot that was all that stood between the van and a theft. Blink. I heard an odd noise. I stopped untying the rope, listening for the sound again. In the total and absolute silence, it wasn't hard to hear. EEEeeee...A sort of a creak...A sudden breeze blew for a moment. EEEEeee...I looked around for the source of the sound, but could see nothing. Blink. The sound didn't return. I started untying the rope again, and, finally loosening the complex knot, began pulling the dor open. The slightly rusty door hinges on the van protested loudly after so long being un-moved and un-oiled. Blink. EEEeeee...I KNOW I heard it that time... A little frightened, I scanned the surroundings for something that could be creaking. I knew it wasn't the van, because the door hadn't been moving the first time I heard the noise. I began walking back towards the house, to let Mom know that the car was ready. A breeze...EEEeee...I was a little distance from the huge oak tree by now, and I could tell that the source of the creak was coming from the tree itself. I chuckled to myself, a bit embarrassed that a branch creaking in the wind has scared me. EEEeeeee...I turned, trying to discern which branches were rubbing and producing the sound. EEEeeee.... Something amongst the branches of the tree caught my eye. EEEeeee... I looked up, and, shading my eyes against the sun, decided that the object in the tree was what was producing the sound. I gasped, quickly drawing in a breath. I saw what the object truly was. EEEeeee....swaying from side to side, on an old mouldering rope, hung a body. The body of a man. EEEeeee...a breeze swung the body around, giving me a horrifying view of the face. It was MY face...horribly distorted, the rope dug into the skin of MY neck... The body was the hideous pale white of a cadaver. The throat and face was black and bulging, the eyes bugged out like an insect. I opened my mouth to scream from terror, but no sound came. Blink. The body was gone. Chapter 1 - Part 8 My mouth opened, then closed. Opened; closed. Like a choking, gasping fish; dying. I finally managed to produce a hoarse gurgle; a foul imitation of speech. Fear had its hold on me, and wasn't letting go. "EhhhaaahhHHH!!!" I screamed hoarsely, a piercing scream finally ripping itself out of the depths of my throat. Blink. EEEEeeee..... I screamed again. "God help mee!!!" I yelled as I ran. I tore across the field, yelling as though Lucifer himself were chasing me. Actually, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was. I don't remember anything until I ran into my mother, babling hysterically, more frightened than I have ever been in my life. "What's wrong?! Damion, what's gotten into you?!" Mother frantically called, trying to calm me down. In between guttaral chokes and coughs, shaking from terror, I tried to relate my tale, saying,"I went...to the *pant* oak tree and...*sniff* heard some creaks and I *sob* looked up and THERE WAS A BODY IN THE TREE!" I dissolved into helpless tears again, completely at a loss at what I had seen. Now, you may be thinking a 14 year old shouldn't be sobbing helplessly. If you had seen the things I'd seen, and lived the sheltered, home-grown life I'd led, you'd be sobbing too. Don't EVER call me weak....I'll KILL YOU! Hehh...hee..eh... Anyway, my mother decided to put an end to this "nonsense", as she referred to it, once and for all. We walked (meaning she walked, and I was dragged) out to the tree, and she looked all over for a body. She even climbed up in the tree's first branch, to get a better view up higher. "See? There isn't anything here. It's all just in your imagination honey." she calmly reassured me, climbing down out of the tree. She snagged her dress, and untangled herself, saying, "You need to stop fretting. You'll worry yourself sick over all this nonsense." she said with a small smile. She unwound the rope, and began walking back to the house. She turned, and repeated over her shoulder to me, "All in your imagination." I turned, glancing at where I'd seen myself hanging. Shaking my head, I wondered if maybe it really WAS all in my imagination...I hoped not, merely because I didn't want to be insane. I entertained the notion I was sane back then. Turning, I began striding back to the house. A flicker of light caught my eye as I turned, and I did a fast double-take back to the tree, whipping my head around in startlement. A lone figure stood next to the tree, a cold smirk on his face, revealing long, white fangs. A figure in robes... white as snow. Blink. He was gone. Chapter 1 - Part 9 Rattle...bump..ka-BUMP.... The gravelly road to Gotheridge was a rather unkempt one, filled with potholes and ruts from vans and trucks long passed. As we rattled towards Gotheridge on our old woody van, my demeanor lifted a bit. We were away from my house, which I was beginning to think was haunted, and into a great city, full of life and vibrant activity. We passed by the great stone walls and gates of the South Entrance to Gotheridge. A policeman clab in the dark blues of his station held up his hand and flagged us to a stop. We slowly and noisily braked, a piercing screech from the ancient brakes drawing annoyed glances from the foot traffic. "Papers and identifiction please." he said, rote memorization clear in his speaking style. It was clear he said this a lot. Digging out a slip of paper, we handed it over to him. Momentarily glancing at the paper, he handed it back to us. "All right; go on through." he said, holding his hand up to the next wagon coming in. We passed the second gate and headed in to the marketplace, change and bills jingling in our pockets just waiting to be spent. "Ok honey, I'll head to the market to buy supplies and food, you go to the hardware store and buy us a new hammer and spade." Mother said, doleing out five dollars for me to use. "And you've done your chores well, so here." She handed me two dollars. "Buy something for yourself, ok?" she said with a warm smile. Smiling as well, I pocketed the money, and headed off to the hardware store. Crossing under the stony gaze of the statue in the square, I entered the door to the old hardware store. Tools lined the walls, as well as other knick-knacks customers had sold to the store. "Can I help you sir?" an older man said with a smile, his young, good-looking assistant wiping dust off of a clay pot. "Yes, I need a new spade and a hammer please." I stated simply. The man walked over to one of the tool lined walls and pulled off a spade and a hammer, shiny metal ready to be used. "That will be four ninety-five, sir." I handed him my money, and he handed me the tools. I also bought an apple and a piece of cheese with my two bucks Mother gave me, and walked out to the center of the square. Sitting down upon a wooden bench under the gaze of the statue, I munched contentedly upon my food, the journey having made me rather hungry. People bustled here and there, running around on various errands between the huge buildings and the enormous Civic center, right in the middle of the town. The bright sunshine alleviated the chilly breeze well, and made the day absolutely gorgeous. Blink. The sky was cold and grey, a frigid autumn gust springing from nowhere. Dark grey clouds signaling rain had appeared in the space of my blink and the city, normally full of life, was completely, totally and utterly silent. No people bustled about on errands; no people ran to and fro under the sun's warm rays. In fact, I couldn't see a single... living... soul. Anywhere. I whipped my head back and forth, trying fervently to see someone, ANYONE, who could tell me what was going on. Bloodshot white rimmed the entirety of my eyes as I stood abruptly and called out, "Hello?! Where is everyone! Where did you all GOOOO!?" I yelled again and again, panicked hysteria rapidly building within my already stressed and tortured mind. Blink. Birds chirped happily within the multicolored leaves as the warm sunshine fell down upon me. Hot tears of anxiety poured from my eyes; I was sick of this. I wanted to know what was happening and WHY. And I wanted to know THEN. Chapter 1 - Part 10 "HO THERE YOUNG MAN, WHAT AILS YE!?" a rotund man called, striding over. He had the look of a gourmand...not one who enjoys cooking, but one who enjoys stuffing himself with it. His multicolored shirt had probably once been a sparkling white, due to the racks of clean white shirts in the window of the clothing store nearby. His stained and dirty clothing was covered with bits of today's lunch, and probably the day before, and probably the day before, and probably the day before's. His booming voice startled me after so long sitting here trying not to blink. "I'm...*sniff* fine, sir. Don't bother with me." I said, voice pathetically cracking. "NONSENSE!" He practically yelled. A flock of black starlings took flight as if to punctuate his bass rumble of a voice. As he began speaking again, many a passerby gave him an odd look, and it was clear to me sitting there that they, like me, had never encountered a man quite like this. "NOTHING A SPOT OF FOOD CAN'T FIX!" he veritably shouted, pink jowls quivering with the force of exerting his voice. His pink face got redder as he heaved his bulk off of the bench next to me and began striding downtown more. Small deep set eyes glittered jovially as he beckoned with a sausage-sized finger, "WELL, COME ON THEN!" "Really, sir. I'm waiting for my mother to return." I said, unsure of whether to follow. I was getting my head a bit more under control. "MOTHER, EH? WHY'S A MOTHER NOT FEEDING HER CHILD PROPERLY!" he said, not really questioning at all. "LOOK AT YOU! YOU'RE JUST SKIN AND BONES!" he finished with a deep belly laugh. And there was a LOT of belly fueling that laugh. "WHY DON'T YOU COME WITH ME TO GET A BITE TO EAT, EH?!" Blink. The gray clouds completely hid the sun, reducing the glaring sunlight to a drab gray not unlike my dream. A dry skeleton lay partially obscured within the fountain, and the fountain itself was completely dry. I looked up, not so completely startled as I was the first time. I figured, 'If I'm gonna go insane, I might as well figure out why, and what the difference between this world and the normal one is...' I stood up and began yelling. "ANYONE!? HELLO!? IS ANYONE THERE!? I WANT ANSWEEEERS! I'LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE!" I sat down, breathing a bit harshly and throat aching a tad from my shouts. Nothing. I glanced around, then sat down on the bench again. A very quiet, very soft voice from directly beside my ear suddenly spoke, startling me incredibly badly. I jumped almost out of my skin after the deafening silence of this world. "You desire answers?" the soft, almost silky voice continued. It was a voice of manipulation, one so soft that if you weren't listening just right, it might be mistaken as one's own thought. "I have the power to give...all...things..." the voice continued slightly huskily and ended in a whisper. The voice, though soft, obviously held power, and my skin tingled from its sound. The hair on my neck stood straight up, and my skin began to crawl. I whipped my head back and forth to see the source of the voice. Nothing. Blink. "WELL, AREN'T YOU COMING?!" flecks of spittle flew from the huge man's mouth as he grabbed my arm. I pulled my arm away, and pointed off into a random crowd of people that was meandering through the sunny streets, saying, "Oh, there's my mother! Thanks for keeping me company!" As I moved away into the crowd fairly rapidly, I heard his deep booming voice shouting, rather menacingly, "Oh, you can try to get away from Him, but in the end, We will find you..." the voice of the man took on an eerie quality towards the end, as if more than one person was speaking at once. I glanced around to see if anyone noticed, but they all were oblivious to me and my plight, continually running to and fro performing their errands. I turned briefly to look back at the huge man before the crowd swept me away. All I saw between the busily moving townsfolk was a small figure...in gleaming white, with eyes of a golden yellow. Looking right at me. Blink. He was gone. |