07-15-2014, 06:29 AM
The wind that I guess broke the window pours in through the empty holes where the glass once was, with enough force to scatter the shards across the carpet floor. Dazed, I lift my head up off the floor and try to sit up, only to find myself completely and utterly discombobulated; my head moves almost on its own, drooping back downward. To remedy that, I shake my head to knock loose some of the cobwebs the sudden bump to the back of my skull put in place but still feel my head naturally wanting to fall back onto the ground. I haven't closed my eyes since sitting up, not even to blink. All it could take is me closing my eyes for a second and like that, I'm out. No, not today. Not when the combined forces of what I'd guess to be Hell frozen over if I was religious are using my home as a portal to invade. Wait a second, when I put it that way it just sounds silly. Really silly.
Shakily, I press my hands against the floor and push myself up to my feet and consequently into the raging blast of the frozen paroxysm. Colder than the first gust and much more powerful; without even thinking I grab onto the cushion of the couch for dear life as the wind tries to make me into a stupid little ragdoll that it can just push about with ease. I grit my teeth and stare determinedly into the oncoming tempest, and can make out small pellucid pellets within it. Chunks of ice they had to be. Great. A horizontal hailstorm. With a deep breath I clutch onto the cushion harder, not caring that the rustling of my band-aids was irritating the cuts in my palm. Tiny specks of the hail pelt me in the face before falling to the ground like the shards of glass that still sit hidden in the carpet, ready to slice up my bare feet.
The howling wind battens down on and begins to dry out my eyes, forcing me to look away from the source and close them for a few brief moments to regain myself. As soon as I do, I feel my knees grow weak and wobbly, causing me to sway back and forth from where I stand. On instinct alone my hand tightens its grip even more on the cushion and after a few seconds of paranoid fearing for the worst I start to steady out. Not to say I'm completely fine because at any second I could get blown through the wall by a whirlwind strong enough to topple the Empire State Building but better than I was a few seconds ago when the possibility of being shoved across the room again was on the verge of happening.
I open my eyes and look back, no longer feeling any wind at all on me. Out in the distance; at the furthest part of the Icy nightmare that's waiting outside my window I see a figure dressed in all black walking towards me. Not some kind of alien or anything no, it looks human.
"Kara?" I call out, remembering that she was here with me before the window exploded. I hear a slight rustling from behind the wall that blocked off the square end of the mini hallway that houses our bathroom; the sound of feet shuffling across the carpet. Or more accurately, the sound of her being scared out of her mind and whimpering as she shuffles across the carpet.
"What the fuck?"
Yeah, that was the question of the moment, wasn't it?
The figure continues its approach; coming for us at an alarming speed. Within the few moments it took for me to focus on my cowering roommate it had already completed at least half of its journey. Now, I could see it more clearly and still it looked to be a human man; though his/its abdomen was a severely shocking sight to say the least.
A giant, gaping hole made up a lot of is stomach; almost like a bullet or something that never quite healed all the way or at all. Blood didn't appear to be dripping but with all the red that was already staining the man's stomach I wouldn't be able to tell what's new or old if my life depended on it. Thick, prominent purple veins ran all through his midsection; gnarled, twisted, and piled up on each other like the rotting roots of a forest of dead trees. Another major feature about this thing's veins were that it appeared that the veins were poking out of the skin, and all of them seemed to be going to one destination: the gaping stomach wound. And as it drew nearer I started to notice that it was walking with a limp.
"What the hell is that thing?" Kara asks, poking her head out from behind the corner and immediately going back to safe place upon seeing just what was out there.
"I don't know."
Nothing. No response from her, not even a slightly frustrated quip about how much she doesn't like being told that as if her disapproval would somehow give me the information necessary to answer her question correctly. Something's definitely wrong here.
As the man/thing comes closer and closer, I start to hear its footsteps trudging through the snow outside. His head is pointed down at the snowy valley above his feet and I start to relax. I don't know why; for some reason this man with the monstrous body defect is putting me at ease. With a breath I climb onto the couch and take a seat before urging Kara to come over and sit beside me.
"Are you nuts?"
No profanity. Something's very wrong here.
It isn't until the man/thing makes to my window that he finally looks up and at me, revealing his identity and in the process succeeding where the winds had failed; making my blood run cold.
Daniel. The man who I believed shot me in the stomach; a wound I found out later never existed.
"Oh sweetheart. You can't say I didn't warn you."
That's Daniel talking. At least, his mouth is moving but the words that came out aren't his at all. No, they're the words of the thing that was also my shrink; the same triumphant baritone that resonates painfully in my head as I try to register what it could possibly want or better yet; what it is. Daniel smiles, grabs the still standing wooden support of the window and shoves it forward, splintering the wood into pieces and breaking most of it off. He pulls it closer to his face for a quick inspection before tossing it aside, into the snow.
He climbs in through the empty hole in the wall that was previously a window and makes his way to me. The same limp in his step gives me a few moments to retreat, literally hopping off the couch and technically nearer him for a second as I take off in a sprint into my bedroom. As I guessed I would prior, I do step right on the glass and some of it stabs me right in both feet but isn't enough to stop me as I drag my cut up, bleeding feet across the carpet and collapse upon crossing the threshold into my room. As I try to catch my breath, I take the door by the corner and push shut, locking it as before dragging myself over to my bed, panting.
Right where I see Kara laying, flipping disinterestedly through a magazine. Dumbfounded, I put my hands on the edge of my bed and push myself up onto it; an action that draws her attention right away as she shoots me a confused glance and asks:
"Are you sleepwalking again?"
I don't respond. I can't respond. I don't even know how to respond to a question like that, in a time like this. She rolls her eyes and grumbles, just loud enough so I can barely hear and make out what she says:
"Right. You are sleepwalking which means you're asleep and can't hear me. Why do I even bother?"
As I, dumbfounded, still try to think of some response to this, I look down at the palms of my hands.
Nothing. No band-aids. Just raw, bloody wounds.
"I really need to get you some help."