Jul 18, 2009

Creative . . . uh . . . Saturday

It's not that I forgot to post yesterday, it's just that I started working on my post and the story I was going to offer up, and then I got distracted by a migraine, which was triggered by my sinuses, which were triggered by the weather. Yes, it's a vicious cycle.

This morning the phone woke me up at a God-awful early hour and as I was trying to get back to sleep I started thinking about the story and the next thing I know I'm cursing under my breath as I'm headed down stairs to work on it before I forgot the pearls of wisdom that popped into my head.

I spent the next couple of hours working on the story but I could feel my sinuses and head gearing up to cause trouble, so when I came to a spot where I could stop I took the last of my sinus medication and a couple of macaroons and went back to bed for a couple of hours. Macaroons work far better than aspirin. :-)

This is another horror story, and I'll warn you right now it's a work in progress. The asterisks in middle are to mark where I may be adding to this story in the future . . . or not, like I said, it's a work in progress.

* * * * * * * * * *

She awoke in silent darkness, unable to see, unable to hear, unable to move.

Where was she? How did she get here?

She couldn’t remember.

Sensation returned slowly. Her tongue felt too thick for her dry mouth. Her arms and legs tingled as feeling began to return to them. She was aware that her chest rose and fell as she breathed, but she could see nothing, hear nothing. She could feel, but she couldn’t move.

It was like being in a sensory deprivation tank. Wait . . . how did she know that? What else did she know?

She could tell she was lying on her back, in the dark and the silence. There was a feeling of space around her. A warehouse? A cave? Beneath her was . . . earth. Packed earth. A cave then, or some place underground. But she still had no idea how she got here, unable to move, unable to see, unable to hear.

Holly. Her name . . . her name was Holly. Her memory was staring to return. Her name was Holly and she was a reporter. She’d gone to the park to investigate the strange disappearances.

There’d been no witnesses to the disappearances. Police were baffled. The hookers and drug dealers faded into the background, unwilling to get involved. No one else was talking.

Mostly she’d interviewed street people. Their stories ranged from government conspiracies to vampires and werewolves. All except that last man, the wino, only he’d been stone cold sober when he told her that what was taking those people was far worse than any government, more ancient than any vampire or werewolf. Then he’d warned her to stay away from the birch grove in the park and she’d laughed . . . until his eyes began to glow.

She shivered in the dark. The old man had done something to her, pulled her in with his eyes. The world around her had spun, faster and faster until her only anchor had been the light of his eyes.

* * * * *

Cool air kissed her skin causing goose flesh to rise, making her aware again. She was naked. Naked and alone in the dark and the silence. Was she alone?

She could feel another presence nearby, maybe she wasn’t alone. Or maybe it was just her imagination, running in circles.

No, there it was again. The heat of another body, moving, circling her. She could feel the faint vibration of its steps. Did it know she was here? Was it able to see her? She might have whimpered, but she couldn’t be sure.

Her body jerked involuntarily as a tongue rasped across her skin, hot and moist. Human? Animal? She had no way of knowing, could only quiver in fear. Tears leaked from her eyes as the tongue rasped again, this time across her breasts, then again, lower.

Two tongues now, touching her, tasting her fear. No, wait. The second one was dry and scaly, like a reptile. It moved across her skin sinuously, like a snake or a . . . tail.

Panic set in. She could feel her heart race. Her mouth opened and the scream ripped through her, but there was no sound. Just implacable, utter, silence.

Why is this happening to me?

It was her last coherent thought before the pain boiled through her and carried her away.


Jamie D. said...

That...was incredible. Seriously - one of the best pieces of writing I've read here yet (not that they aren't normally good, but this one was exceptional). I could totally feel her confusion, her fear, and the horror of the situation. Excellent job - thank you! :-)

C R Ward said...

Thank you Jamie! I actually wrote this for the July horror prompt over on AW. The challenge was to use only one of the senses and it couldn't be sight. Unfortunately, they're asking for a minimum of 1500 words, so it looks like it isn't done yet!

Benjamin Solah said...

Sorry I took so long to comment. I really really liked this and would love to read more but I reckon you should finish it, NOT post anymore to your blog and submit it.

I'd happily be a beta reader if you sent it to my email or whatever.