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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1538715-THE-DREAM
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Rated: E · Book · Horror/Scary · #1538715
A FROLIC INTO THE BITTER UNKNOWN...
CHAPTER ONE:
So
mewhere between lost consciousness and reality, she stirred. Coldness swallowed her like an empty grave as she became aware of the heaviness in her aching limbs. Her eyelids fluttered towards an awakening and the low methodical humming beneath her resonated it's wake-up call. She breathed in through her nostrils a long life-giving breath into her lungs. The regenerative air supply suddenly paralyzed itself . She realized that she couldn't open her mouth. Her attempted screams and shrieks were muffled behind the ebony electrical tape and it silenced her sounds like a sealed tomb. Panic and terror accelerated her heart rate and she felt the maniacal beating in her temples like some savage cannibalistic dance. Silence. A droplet of sweat cascaded down her brow stinging and burning her flesh and detoured down the side of her nose. "ok, ok...slowww down...get control. ssshhhhhh" , she told herself.... "Think, think, THINK!"
The exhaled air from her nose came out in pulsating tremors as she forced her senses to become aware and alert. She began writhing her wrists free from the force that bound them and it cut into her flesh liked barbed wire . The pain seared through her like a glowing branding iron.
Suddenly, without warning her entire body was violently caromed upwards. She landed down with a sickening thud, like a dead fish being slapped down on the wet concrete at a loading dock. It was at that moment she realized that she was in the trunk of a moving vehicle. She could still feel and hear the heavy strangulated whirs of the engine beneath her body and she was actually relieved by only one small truth: The car was still moving. Time was now a factor and the countdown began.
She forced her tongue upwards to lubricate and kill the sticky adherant . Repeatedly , she pulsed against the binding tape, licking over and over to free her mouth. Brackish sweat shrouded her entire body like erosive lime and trickled down her back . The palms of her hands were soaked and drowning in their own salty alkaline and her entire body stung as if it were being dipped in battery acid... yet, she brightened. She felt a loosening; a cresting as the hold of the tape on her wrists began to give way to the moisture. Frantically now, she agitated her wrists and thrashed to regain the power of her mobility. She struggled and finally she felt the break.
Her hands were free!
She clawed and savagely tore at the sticky tape that held her mouth , releasing it from her like the sound of tearing cotton fabric. Exhilaration. She drew in the air, desperately gulping it in. The hot humid stench felt like she was ingesting a trauma victim's last flat-lined exhalation. She immediately groped around for something, anything that could be used as a possible weapon along the fiberglass felt of the 1996 Mazda's interior. Her probing fingertips landed upon the icy coldness of grainy steel. She drew in a relieved breath. It was a tire iron. She then began feeling along the seams for an opening, exhibiting a gleam of hopefulness like a blind person touching braille for the first time. Ripping back the carpet, her hands explored around for loose wires or cables . Rabidly, she seized them and began ripping and severing and gnashing until she felt the cables give way to her frenzy. The chill from the tire iron was as unforgiving as a metal operating table, but it was her ticket and her passage to the outside world. With all of her might and with an adrenalated rush she began busting out in the direction of the tail light weilding the old rusted tire iron like a medieval knight against a glowing red- eyed dragon. She blinked away the salty sweat from her stinging eyes and continued yet began to succumb to her fragile state. The screaming of her body warned her of it's ebbing blood supply . Bright little dancing sparkles sparked before her and her right ear rang like the tone from a flat line.
"not NOW!!!! NO!!!" ,she spewed through clentched teeth. Her body reeled and the last thing she could recall was the connection of the tire iron; the jarring of steel against steel. She remembered the chips and flecks of paint and debris spraying into her eyeball like shards of glass impaling itself into a freshly cut incision...
She relinquished her consciousness and she floated into the billowy clouds of nothingness...
CHAPTER TWO:
Her shrieks impaled the early morning mist and echoed from the 7th story apartment building on Windsor Circle. The nearby crows lit into the sky like black fireworks , as the screams pierced the tombstone colored sky. She sat straight up with gasping heaves. A dream...Oh my God, it was just a...dream. It was then that she noticed her bloody wrists.


© Copyright 2019 Windsor g. Kennedy (UN: windsorkennedy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Windsor g. Kennedy has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1538715-THE-DREAM