Sunday, December 15, 2013

New Scar

There's a scar on my arm.  I could swear it wasn't there a second ago.  My heart flutters.
Blinking lights?  No, there couldn't have been.  And what could've been making gurgling noises?
I look down at my feet and freeze.  The grass is scorched.  It was a brilliant green just a moment ago.
What is going on?
Another image burrows into my mind.  A tall, paper-thin figure, bearing only the faintest humanoid resemblance, looms over me.  Its chest is coated in what appears to be brain tissue.  Blood drips from a razor-like instrument in one of its four hands.
I scream, despite the peaceful meadow surrounding me.
The vision pans out inside my head.  It feels like a dream.  I know it’s a memory.
I’m in a shining white room.  A metal disk floats beside me, holding dozens of tools.  Black lines in haphazard patterns cover every wall.  The lighting is dimmer than expected for a surgery.  Or, more likely, an experiment.
I see my house at the top of the next hill.  My legs can hardly move fast enough.  As I arrive on my doorstep, huffing and puffing for air, an orange strobe light zooms away on the horizon.
My face is still cold from the monster’s frigid breath.

2 comments:

  1. Ooh, that was intriguing! Left me wanting to read on and find out more. Interesting stuff, Patrick :)

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