All my attention narrows to the strap of pain eating across my forehead, my eye, my nose.Ī seat belt. I’m more afraid now than I was surrounded by the dead, but the reason why floats out of my grasp. A rush of cold washes over me, and I don’t want to open my eyes. The pain in my back is fading, but my face hurts like something’s slicing into it. I hear him, but I feel too foggy to understand. I hang on it, twisting helplessly as the dead souls above claw through their dirt coffins and crawl down to claim me as their own. I raise my head and see it: a massive metal spike impaled through the middle of my body. They fill my senses until a blinding-sharp pain pierces my spine. I try to plug my ears, close my eyes, but I can’t block them out.
These are my dead, and they’re hungry for my company. Their susurrant voices call to me in a language I can’t understand, but the meaning is clear. I see their clawed fingers reaching out to me. The dirt walls of this pit are out of reach, but I can see them, see the twisted faces undulating just under their surface. I fall backward, flail my arms and legs, catch on nothing. The last thing I see is the head exploding into scarlet mist. The blank eyes lock on mine, and bloody tears start streaming down its cheeks. Its size is impossible-as tall as I am, white-pale skin stretching over bloodshot white-orb eyes and a mouth open so wide it could swallow me. I keep running.Ī face leaps out of the darkness, blocking my path. I know the voice, but I don’t want to know it. my God, when will it stop? It has to stop!Īnother scream. It’s awful, and it goes on and on and on. A little girl, tortured-her soul ripped apart. I don’t want to hear, either, but I can’t help it.
Agony spikes my legs with every step, but I can’t stop. I don’t even know how long I’ve been running.
I run so hard and fast, my breath scours my throat.
0 kommentar(er)
