The star that burned so bright

The surface beneath me was cold as ice, as grey as ash and as hard as rock. Actually, it was rock, concrete. Paralysis through fear was what I was experiencing, horror and adrenaline mixing together in my mind to create a cocktail strong enough to render me motionless. My mind was almost as frozen as my body but the thoughts prevailed and I was stuck in not only a grey prison but the prison of my mind. I was back, again, in my world of terror and imagination. Would neither world show me mercy? Surly this demonic being had to end soon, no force on heaven or earth could keep me from escaping this.

My surroundings were bleak, clay coloured walls, hard, angular, uninviting. Vision was my only working sense so far. Scanning the location I saw no door, no windows, nothing; Just an abyss which was slowly making its way closer to me. Suffocating me in my own mind. Pulling at my nerves and filling me with fear, terror. The cold began to seep through into my skin and was becoming beyond uncomfortable with the inability to move that I was experiencing. My limbs hanging heavy though my knees were bent so I was kneeling on them. The floor burned me, cold enough to harness the same power as a hot iron. That is when the true pain struck; I was hit with uncontrollable spasms of red hot agony. I looked around me, then finally down to my hands at my sides.

The image that met my pupils when I looked at my right hand was astounding; a large thick metal ring was laced all the way through the base of my palm to the back, holding me in place to the floor. There was an adjoining chain which was linked to a bigger metal loop bolted into the floor. My hand was a mess of puss and congealed blood, mixed with the still seeping wound. All of my fingers were obviously immobile, probably permanently, in this world at least. The bloody mess had left an unattractive scarlet pool of liquid at my knees, turning them black and brown with dry blood.

I wanted to scream and cry. My mouth however would not open, it was stinging. I tried again and again to scream with no avail. With my hands rendered worthless I used the only instrument I had left to investigate my mouth. My tongue. I could soon taste blood and rust and metal. Gently I pressed the tip of my tongue to the insides of my lips, there was something sharp. I was in hell. Had they been injected so I couldn’t move them? Looking back down to the floor in defeat I noticed the reflection of the celling in the ruby puddle at my knees. Growing weaker with pain my vision became like static on a television screen. Little particles of white, grey and black darted in and out of sight.

Pushing my consciousness back into my body I leaned over the liquid. My mouth was a mess of black and blue. It was pulsing with splinters of atrocious nagging pain. I blinked, over and over until I felt stable. There was a thick black line zigzagged across my lips. In ways I resembles a living scarecrow, never moving, never talking. The strong black wire ran from outside to in, lacing my mouth in a pattern. Horror struck me as I realised that this was the first time that I had ever played the victim in my nightmares. My usual position was as a bystander. What did it mean?

Laughter erupted from one side of the hollow room. Fear, confusion, apprehension, anger. I felt it rush through me, the anger. I pulled my lips, past the pain and into a new level. I heard them tear open and I tasted the river of blood that was cascading down my chin and onto my chest and stomach. Struggling, I finally managed to conjure a word.

“Why?”

“You know too much, my love” A gravelly voice echoed at me “And that is dangerous, for you, for Jack, for everyone. My nightmares never usually had consistency. Jack? He was the man from last night. The master of Andrew. Two blue irises met my own. Andrew was here, inches in front of me.

“I am very sorry” he smiled at me “but I’m the one who has the task of ending your life”

My heart stopped

Notes