Bryan's POV
"You will obey ." The figure loomed over me like a dark shadow, twenty times larger than I.
"I won't," I reply, trying to hide the little shake in my voice. "Just one more month, and I'll be free!"
"Then I'll make sure that you DIE by then!" he roars, slashing a whip of fire across my face. "DIE, NEVER TO BE FREE!"
I feel the intense heat sting; I use all of my willpower not to collapse, not to succumb to the terrorizing agony on my cheek. A tear springs to my eye; I hurriedly blink it away.
"You waste of rubbish." He bends toward me, leering at me like a beast staring down its prey. "You foolish mortal. You will obey, or I shall demolish you, and everything else."
Another fierce slap of fire, and I see my family, my friends, and my town, crumble away into ashes before my eyes.
I start awake, sweating from head to toe and panting. I put a quivering hand to my cheeks. They are inflamed, as if they were slashed with whips of fire.
I reach for my scalpel.
* * * * *
Ricki's POV
I yawned widely and obviously.
History has got to be THE most boring subject in the world. All we ever did was learn about bloodshed and dead people.
Speaking of bloodshed and dead people...
I glanced over at Bryan. He seemed troubled. What could it be? A girl? His mother? His friends?
Or was it another nightmare?
I drummed my fingers on the desk restlessly, willing the minutes to turn faster.
Ring! Ring!
Yes! The bell!
"Bryan!" I called across the room at his retreating back. "Hey, Bryan!"
I caught him in the hallway and grabbed his wrist. He yanked it away as though burned.
"Oh... Hey, Ricki," he muttered, not meeting my eyes.
I reached up to rumple his dark hair. "What's up? Is everyth--"
"Everything's great, yeah, um, I'm in a rush, gotta get to, uhh, second period early, er--retake a test on the, uhh, algebraic formulas... yeah, that." Seeing from my expression that I wasn't buying it, he finished with a quick "okayseeyoulaterthen" and rushed off.
I stared after him. Since when did P.E. require knowledge of algebraic formulas?
A glitter on the floor caught my eye. I bent down to pick it up.
The tip of his scalpel was red with recently dried blood.
