They walked back to Shane's house. Just as Shane turned the key
in the lock of his front door, they heard sirens start to wail, at
least that's what they thought it was. The sharp shrieking sound started
getting louder and louder until it became unbearable. It was an agonizing
sound to have to listen to, and it sounded like whoever or whatever
was making it was also in agony. Fredy and Shane frowned at each other
as they covered their ears. The very next moment, there was complete
silence.
Shane and Fredy turned and walked down the porch stairs and onto
the path that led to the front gate. They had made it halfway to the
gate when they noticed that the souls of their shoes were sticking
to the footpath. They gave each other puzzling looks and kept on
walking, their rubber souls were starting to melt as they reached
the gate. Shane touched the latch on the gate and it burnt his hand,
but he felt no pain. They both heard what sounded like wind, only
it had more of a rumble to it. They saw a wave of heat coming off
the road, like you see on a steamy summers day, only it wasn't summer
and this wave was on the move. As the burning surge of air came racing
up the street towards them, they began to feel drowsy and their heads
started to feel as if they weighed five times their normal weight.
They felt themselves falling but not in real time, more in slow-motion.
A few seconds later they blacked-out and fell to the scorching ground.
Suddenly, hundreds of angels spiralled from the heavens, their
wings glowing with bright orange flames, unable to fly, they plunged
into the sea that now turned to blood. The charred bodies of the wingless
angels splashed frantically in agony as the sea of blood saturated
their blistering bodies. Puffs of steam rose out of the crimson sea
as more and more angels fell from the burning sky. When the last angel
splashed into the plasma sea and resurfaced to join the others, who
were now coughing and spluttering and crying out in pain, the great
red ocean suddenly turned to flames and the angels started to fall
again. This time they did not land on anything, for they completely
burned to ashes before they could reach the ground. The flames then
disappeared and the light of the day returned as a strange twilight
with a red glow. ( end of excerpt )
It held the back of Billy's head in a vice-like grip with its sinewy
yet powerful hands. The creature opened its giant mouth and drew Billy's
face closer to its own hideous face. A face that only a mother could
love. With its jaw thrust forward, like that of a shark, its long,
jagged, yellow teeth were fully revealed - they shined in the light
of the full moon with long, stringy, lengths of saliva dangling from
them. Billy was so scared he was unable to make a single sound. He
shook uncontrollably. His legs were warm and wet, courtesy of his
bladder.
The beast's teeth were now only a few centimetres away, then
they moved back suddenly, away from Billy's face. But before Billy
could breathe a sigh of relief they came back towards him rapidly,
plunging into the soft tissue under his eyes and chin. Fluid coursed
through the demon's veins as it sucked the insides out of Billy like
an industrial vacuum cleaner possessed by the devil. Billy's eyes
were pushed back inside their sockets then sucked out of his mouth
and into the hungry mouth of the savage beast, closely followed by
his brain.
The creature had a massively thick neck with an equally large
oesophagus. It didn't need to chew or swallow its prey, only to inhale
violently. The excitement that the creature received while feeding
on its prey caused it to thrash its arms around wildly. The result
of this behaviour was that its razor sharp claws would slice and dice
its victim, leaving a nasty mess behind when it had finished consuming
the inner organs. It was the inner organs that the beast craved. It
had no stomach for bones, skin or hair, only the juicy, succulent
innards. ( end of excerpt )
I feel confused but the pleasure overwhelms my thoughts and I feel
myself slip into ecstasy. My eyes roll back and the lids close over
them. Several minutes pass before my eyes reopen and when they do
I'm nailed to the wall, crucifixion style. She's smiling again, only
this time there's more blood on her face. She's standing in front
of me holding a bloodied leather whip. The whip has many strands -
possibly ten - maybe more. She closes her left fist tightly around
all of the strands and pulls the handle with her other hand. The strands
of leather slowly slide through her left hand gathering blood as they
go. As the ends of the strands pull through her fist and fall free,
blood spills over her thumb and index-finger then runs over her other
fingers and drips onto the floor. I feel a pain in the stomach. At
first I think it's an internal pain but as I look down I'm shocked
and sickened beyond belief by what I see. My body's protective coverings
of skin, fat and muscle have (in places) been stripped away, revealing
parts of my stomach, intestines and liver. Bits of flesh that had
once helped to house the organs of my abdominal cavity now lay bleeding
on the polished-wood floor. I feel cold, a result of losing heat through
being robbed of sections of my fat tissue which intermingle with the
other meat on the floor. Sickly, yellow pieces of fat are also stuck
to my legs but they slowly turn red as blood from my wounds run over
them. Still naked, she turns away from me and walks towards the door.
She puts a piece of paper down on the small table by the door then flicks the light-switch. I hear the door close. I'm now in total darkness,
crucified, flogged, and cold. I start to feel myself slipping away
from the wall. I feel the nails pass through the holes in my wrists.
I feel myself falling forward. I put my hands out to protect my face
but it's too late, my head hits the floor and so do my punctured wrists,
sending shots of agonising pain up through my arms. My ankles are
still fastened to the wall by the large nails. I take a deep breath
and writhe my legs away from the wall, they come free and I scream
in agony. It's too painful to put any pressure on my ankles, so it's
impossible to stand. I roll over three times towards the bedside table,
it hits my shoulder. I reach out and try to clutch onto the table
leg to pull myself up but the pain in my wrists makes it impossible.
I nudge my shoulder against the bed and manage to struggle to my knees.
I succeed in turning on the bedside lamp. My eyes dart around the
room searching for her, but she's gone. All that remains is her smell,
the smell of a goddess. As I turn and start to shuffle along on my
knees, my eyes fix on the nails still protruding from the wall. Red
nails ... ( end of excerpt )
On my way through the park I noticed a man sitting on one of
the benches, his back to me, reading a paper. As I drew closer I realised
that it was Thomas Lee. He was well dressed, as usual, in an expensive
looking suit. I had never spoken to him and hadn't the nerve on this
day either. He was not an approachable kind of guy. He was just one
of those mysterious people that others have a hard time figuring out.
I was so curious about him. Wanted to know what he was all about.
I was now only a few metres away. Standing behind a large willow
tree, I spied on him. He was reading a horse racing guide and listening
to the race on a miniature radio. The race caller announced that, A
Murder of Crows was the winner by a nose. Mr Lee was not impressed.
He turned the radio off, screwed the paper up and threw it on the
ground. Then he did something that I'd never seen him do before -
he coughed. It wasn't a natural cough. It wasn't a smokers cough.
It was a forced cough. A purposeful cough. But what happened next
was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. A large flame shot out of his
mouth. A well directed flame - right onto the race guide. He was obviously
pissed off that the horse he bet on didn't win. Then he got up and
walked away.
I stayed behind the tree until he was out of sight. Then I walked
over and stared at the ground in front of the park bench. I could
still smell the smoke diffusing in the still air as I looked down
at the news paper ashes. I looked at my watch, still thinking about
what had just happened, not registering what the time actually was,
just staring at the digital display. After about a five second delayed
reaction I snapped back to reality, it was 9:15, damn, I was late
for class. ( end of excerpt )
I used to
be in control when he slept. Now I don't even have that. I only control
his dream world. But I always know what he's thinking, as boring as
that is, and the next time he sleepwalks - because I know he'll have
to sleepwalk sooner or later, every habitual sleepwalker does, even
if he has declared himself cured, and when he does, I'll know what
to do.
Sleep is usually regarded as a condition of complete relaxation
and inactivity. But contrary to popular belief, sleep is actually
a complex and by no means inactive state. When vivid dreams occur
in REM sleep (rapid eye movement sleep) I'm in a state of arousal.
The thing that prevents my neural arousal from being translated into
physical movement is the body I'm in. Unfortunately, the human body
is in a state of paralysis while it sleeps. But thanks to him reading
all about sleep disorders and the brain recently, I have learnt a
few things that will come in quite handy when the time is right. ( end of excerpt )
It was gaining on him, drawing closer and closer with his every
step. He ran through streets, back alleys, up and down stairs and
ramps, through loading docks, shopping centre car parks, finally making
it to the outskirts of town. All of the time it was never more than
ten or so metres away. Gavin's heart was pounding so hard, he thought
it would explode at any minute. He ran for his life, lungs expanding
to their limits to take in all the oxygen they could hold. His muscles
were so exhausted, only his brain could motivate him to carry on.
Just when Gavin thought he could no longer go on, he came to
a big metal bridge. He dived underneath it, crawled up the bank and
nudged himself between two metal girders. It was 2 o' clock in the
afternoon on a dull spring day, visibility was clear yet his pursuer
stopped. It seemed confused. Its tracking devices had lost the signal.
It stayed completely still for five minutes then it began to move
again. It ascended the bank, as always making no sound as it went,
travelled over the bridge then descended down the opposite bank. Here
it stayed, again for exactly five minutes. When it started to move
again, it did so in various patterns - search patterns. Gavin watched
it from his hiding place. He noticed that every so often it would
traverse about a hundred metres across the field, thus a hundred metres
away from the bridge also. Gavin figured that when it was at this distance, he would have a good chance of being able to make a run
for it. He waited for his pursuer to initiate the same search pattern.
The entity's search sequence ran its course. When it repeated
its hundred metre sweep, Gavin sprinted in the opposite direction.
As soon as he did, the tracking signal was picked up and the entity
was hot on Gavin's trail once more.
He eventually made it to an old deserted mine. Inside there were
bodies everywhere, all with massive head wounds. No time to look at
the dead, he thought, time to run and live instead. It made its way
in, searching for Gavin. It felt no emotions for the dead bodies around
it. It didn't care how or why they died. It wasn't interested in them
at all, only in Gavin. It had come for Gavin and it wasn't about to
leave without him. ( end of excerpt )
After packing his equipment back into his back-pack, Danny came down
from the tree. As he drove home he got a very wicked idea. He thought
to himself, that's going a little too far, so he put the idea out
of his mind and turned on the car radio. The song on the radio was
by some heavy metal band. The lyrics were all about revenge. This
didn't help Danny get the evil idea out of his mind. He tuned-in to
another station, techno. He hated techno music. After channel surfing
through almost every radio station available and not finding anything
he liked, he turned the radio off.
The lyrics from the first song he heard on the radio came back
into his head. They'll make you obsolete - and when you live in the
street - they'll kick you in the teeth - so it's time to get revenge
- it's time to cut and grab and pull and stab. That's all he had heard
of the song, but the lyrics were stuck in his head like a bad TV commercial.
Danny pulled into his driveway.
He took his stuff out of the car, walked to his front door, unlocked
it and went in. He sat on the couch with a nice cold beer and watched
TV for about half-an-hour. Then he got up, walked through the kitchen,
put the empty bottle on the kitchen counter and unlocked the back
door. Danny walked down the steps, crossed the back-yard and entered
the garden shed.
In the shed he found the jar he was looking for. It was about
the size of a soft-drink can. It had a screw-on lid and was made of
dark tinted glass. Danny unscrewed the lid to see if the contents
of the jar still existed. It had been a long time since he looked
into that jar. He wanted to make sure the contents hadn't dried up
or evaporated. He smiled when he looked into the jar. Happy with the
condition of what the jar held, he screwed the lid back on.
Danny found it hard to sleep that night. Many thoughts ran through
his mind. Eventually he decided to take a drive. When he returned,
he went back to bed and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit
the pillow.
The next night Danny was at the Gym as usual. He went to the
Gym canteen to buy a drink and as he did he saw the cheating duo come
out of the mens room together. About fifteen minutes later Danny went
to his locker to get a towel to dry himself off. He was making his
way back to the weight room when he saw the cheating duo come out
of the mens room again. Two words cross Danny's mind, steroid cheats.
Danny enters the weight room again and is currently working on
his arms, doing dumb-bell curls. He sees the cheating duo enter the room and looks away in disgust.
They both start to work-out. One is doing arm curls the other is on
a machine for working-out the legs. After doing one set each, they
both sat down with their backs leaning against the wall.
They both had a look of concern on their faces. Suddenly they
both started to drink their water. Nothing strange about that. But
it was the way they were drinking their water that was a little weird.
There was a sense of urgency. The water was being consumed at a very
rapid rate. Some of it wasn't even making it into their mouths, it
was trickling down their throats and onto their shirts instead. Then
they seemed to go red in the face. In the next instance they were
coughing. Then it looked as if they were trying to say something but
no sound would come, just gurgling noises. ( end of excerpt )
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