KRUPTION

My heart is pumping in my chest, my lungs are burning making it impossible to breathe, my legs peddle harder, riding, riding up the hill away from the man in the black coat, the man who looked like he’d just died but yet was still alive. Those white eyes and thin lips made me feel as if I’d die and never see my friends and family again. Okay, this was self-inflicted, my friends told me that I shouldn’t do the job selling heroin, but I badly needed the money to go to the Jackmons Concert next June. This was just one of my deliveries and the most frightening one yet, the only one that the consumer actually followed me from his house.
I thought that I lost him so I stopped. I can’t breathe and I feel faint, I collapse onto the ground. I feel a presence looming on me and suddenly a hanky covers my mouth, for a moment I just feel drowsy, my eyes willing themselves to stay open but the erg to go to sleep is much greater, I slowly close my eyes and all feeling goes from my body…
***
My vision is blurry but I can still tell that this is not a good place to be. I try to sit up but my hands and legs are tied down but metal bars. I hear a voice somewhere to my left, a deep hoarse voice belonging to a man. “Don’t worry dearie, I’ll let you out eventually, but for now it’ll be the element of surprise”. As my eyes control focus I can see that I’m in a room full of glass flasks with dark red liquids in them. The man walks closer until he is standing by my side, I feel a slight stab in the side of my arm and I look over. Blood is slowly seeping out of my arm, into another glass flask sitting on a little wooden stool quite close to my table. After almost five minutes the man clearly thinks he has emptied enough of my blood to pull out the needle. I feel the need for an explanation. “What are you doing to me?” It may sound a bit dumb but it feels like the most appropriate question. “I have a profession young lady, it’s to paint and do heroin. The heroin makes me drowsy then gives me a rush, which helps me make my paint.” Still unknowing I ask another question. “How do you make your paint?” The man let out a deep laugh and put his head close to mine. “The blood my dear, I take a child home, fresher blood with a child, and I drain them until I have enough to make a beautiful portrait of my victim. But I don’t see it as a bad thing, this is art, many unwilling people die in the course of art.” A great feeling of dread fills my body, this man was going to kill me, slowly and painfully until the last drop of blood has left my body. I was scared, okay, boys aren’t meant to be scared but I was, beyond that, I was terrified. I really can’t picture this; I’ve never thought a person could be so cruel; I need to know his name. “ What is your name?” Geese, I sounded like an idiot. “Kruption Matthews, and yours young paint?” Oh gosh, should I lie or should I tell him the truth, well the truth can’t hurt. “Jack Seenan” Kruption turned with a strange look plastered onto his face. “Is your dad named Alexander?” I thought this was strange, did Kruption, this Kruption know my dad? “Yes, why though?” Kruption paced up and down the room pondering his answer. “He was my best friend in high school and uni, I thought he was dead, I thought he died in a car accident, I was driving, I fled the scene because” Kruption broke down on the floor. “Because I was scared”. The word repeated itself in my head, scared, scared, scared…
***
I woke with a jolt, Kruption, the blood filled flasks, and it was all a dream, a dream. It had seemed so real! I just knew I had to ask dad if he knew a Kruption, I just had to. “Dad” I yelled as I ran through the house. “Dad!” I found him lying on the couch reading the newspaper, typical! “Dad, did you ever know a man named Kruption?” This was embarrassing! What sort of a name was Kruption? “Yes, I wonder what happened to him, he was my best friend in high school and uni, he was a kind and decent man.” I knew something was going on here. I needed to find out what and fast!
TO BE CONTINUED!!!