Phantom

Haunted | N°3

I scream a loud and long cry, trying to shake the thing above me off.

But then my hands are brutally grabbed and tied together on my back with a rough rope. The rope - which is made of tree bark - cuts into my skin and probably lets some wounds on my wrists behind. At least that is what it feels like.

And I know that I'm right because only two seconds later, I feel a warm fluid running down my wrist, lumping together in my palms.

The blood keeps flowing, it flows through my fingers and drops into the mud. I can't see what is happening, I can just feel it. And it certainly isn't feeling comfortable.

My feet are kicking around, trying to get rid of the creature above me, but I don't succeed. It is too heavy. I hear the others scream; obviously destiny has prepared the same massacre for them.

But it emphasizes that the so called creature isn't a creature. It is a human.

The hair is greasy, black and standing away from the head; the skin is dark and dirty and the top of the body is naked. A bone is pierced through it's nose and red colour adorns the cheeks in form of three streaks. The red colour looks like blood and as I look closer I see that for each streak a bloody shred of skin is hanging down. The "colour" is blood. The wounds look as if someone would have shaved the skin away with a razor or something sharp.

Something heavy - maybe clay or even metal - is also inside of it's lips, perhaps it's pierced through them, because they are hanging downward. And because they look like that, white and sharp teeth get uncovered from which the incisors are missing. Its mouth is permanently open and I see white and disgusting foam slowly running out the corner of it, flowing down on the chin and partially also dropping onto the ground.

The man just looks in need of development. He looks like an animal. Like a wild werewolf. I sarcastically wonder were the fur is.

But apart from that, I know what he is: he is a cannibal. My heart cramps. Oh my god. And cannibals - I swallow - cannibals drink blood, just like vampires, though blood is the only matter that the human body can't digest, because when you drink it, it gets lumpy. Or at least it gets lumpy when your blood isn't compatible with the one you drink. Well, that's what we learned in our biology class and I can't say if it's true or not, because I never felt the need to test the theorie.

However they also eat rough meat.
But what does a cannibal got in Bridgewood, England, to do? Don't they usually live in tropical forests?
I forget all my questions as I see his eyes again.

The eyes - they are are wide open, because of madness and the pupils invisible. The eyes persist just of a frightening white colour, because the pupils are rolled back "inside the head". And they are glaring intensely at me.

I try to turn myself round and want to push the person with my helpless hands away, but that would mean to cover my face completely it mud and it has already mud and blood sprinkles, in which the latter doesn't belong to me, so I don't do it.

I dodge away as other veins in the white eyes burst and more blood runs out of the eye corners and tends to fall on my face.

Still a blood drop somehow manages to drop on my lower lip. It is warm and feels very uncomfortable. Honestly now - who would voluntarily put blood from a foreigner on their lips? It is just disgusting!

I scream: "Help!", though my throat is already hurting, not to mention the combustion on my back, which is now - while the person is lying on me - exposed to more weight.

The human raises a dirty and with sludge covered hand and presses it on mouth, with the target to prevent me from screaming.

But I don't stop, I still hope that someone will somehow rescue us. My screams now sound hollow and empty against the palm. The sludge tastes salty and earthy as it tries to enter my mouth and because I don't want to eat mud, I am forced to stop shouting and close my mouth.