Fainter

Tears race down your cheeks. Your body is a blood spattered canvas. Sobs escape your lips. Wails occupy the damp, dismal air. You are unaware that these wails are you own. Your hands hover over the lifeless body, unsure of what to do.

“Please, oh dear god, please,” you whimper, “just...breathe.”

You are completely alone. Alone, in the abandoned derelict house.In the house that no one dares to enter. They say it’s cursed. You never believed them. Until now. You fall to the floor, and begin rocking, a sail boat in stormy weather. You mind begins to close down, protecting itself from the horrors around you.

You are deaf to your whimpers ricocheting of the rotting, wood paneled walls. You are blind to the furious red and blue flashes, inching nearer and nearer. Unwanted memories from the past hour are the only thing you are aware of. The sliver blur slicing through the air, obliterating anything in its path. Screams. Screams of terror and torment. Blood, creeping along the floor. But most of all, you remember the eyes. Cold. Dead. Un-remorseful.

Your brain refuses to acknowledge the sound of rubber squealing on the gravel. Or the heavy clomp of boots, crackling the leaves as they go. The front door, once a protective barrier, now in pieces on the floor. Muffled yells and forceful footsteps make their way towards you. Rough calloused hands on your back, urging you to return to reality. These hands shake you about, as if you were an unopened present on Christmas day. Your eyelids flutter. Your head pounds. Reality welcomes you back with a cold, merciless face staring back at you, staring deep into your soul, murmuring something incomprehensible. You scamper back in fright, immersing yourself in a pool of blood as you do so. The red liquid is slick and slippery between your fingers. The mere sight of it makes you stomach churn. Breathing becomes harder. Each breath becomes a struggle and you find yourself hyperventilating.

Another set of hands falls upon your back and you scream a piercing scream. You hastily turn to see a woman, with a kind face and pitying eyes. This is when it clicks. These people aren’t trying to hurt you. They’re the police. You throw yourself onto the womans shoulders, your hands leaving red trails on her shirt. Your pleading eyes find hers, begging them to understand.

“I couldn’t, I, I, I couldn’t. There wasn’t, nothing. C-couldn’t do anything. Please, you have t-to help me,” you wail, sliding down to the floor. Blackness edges in on your vision, a curtain, hesitantly falling down around you, until you lose awareness of everything.

“Boss!” a distant echo calls, “we’ve got another fainter!”