Tethered

Chapter Eleven

1

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Sarah remembered his face from her nightmare, and how he'd died in the road. She remembered how the other him had beaten him. She recalled the whole scene. Gooseflesh covered her bare arms, and a few droplets of rain dotted her face. A flash of lightning flashed, followed by a low rumble of thunder but no rain came.

"Do I know you?" The young man asked.

Sarah opened her mouth to say something but something else trapped her attention. Outside the gate, stood someone peering inside—looking straight at them. The young man followed her eyes, then, he murmured something under his breath.

Before Sarah could react, the young man sprinted toward the person outside the gate. He was fast.

"Sarah!" Cynthia yelled, appearing at the doors. She, John and Gary started coming toward her. But she wanted to see what the boy had in mind. She wanted to know why he went after the person. She ran after him.

"Hey!" The young man yelled. The person turned and started running, too. The young man jumped the short white wooden gate, and dashed after the person.

Sarah opened the gate, and followed in hot pursuit after the boy. She could hear rapid footsteps behind her and knew Cynthia, and Gary were following. The young man in front of her was dangerously fast. He caught up with the person, and pushed him to the ground. Without hesitation, the young man started punching the person in the face.

Sarah stopped beside them, gasping for breath. "Hey!" She yelled, taking in a long breath, and yelled again. "Hey, stop it!"

He did. And as soon as he stopped, the man beneath him started laughing maniacally—his nose bleeding. Sarah saw his face. It was bruised, and looked like he'd had multiple deep injuries that left remarkable scars on his face. He was lean, nearly skin and bones, with his arms covered in colorful tattoos. His wrists appeared to have slash marks like he had tried to commit suicide. The thought made Sarah's stomach twist and thought about her own wrists. The man was perhaps in his mid-twenties or early thirties, Sarah couldn't place that correctly.

2

"Why are you following me?" The young man lifted the man's upper body by the collar, and yelled in his face. "I know you've been following me for a week now. What do you want?"

"It's working", the man laughed, blood spewing out of his mouth. "It's fucking working. They did this to me. I saw you and I wanted to tell you, too. I didn't do it but they made me believe I did. Fucking bastards, I got them." He barked a laugh.

The young man frowned, sparing Sarah a glare. He was confused and so was Sarah. What was the tattooed man talking about? Behind them, Gary, Cynthia and John came running.

"What are you talking about?" The young man asked, his voice somehow regulated.

The man laughed, staring at Sarah. "I've names", he said, showing them a curled piece of paper. Sarah took it immediately but she did not open it. The young man stood up but the man remained lying on the cold ground.

"What's going on here?" Gary asked, his eyes wide and frightened. Cynthia grabbed Sarah's arm.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Philip", John said, referring to the young man. "What did you do?"

3

The man on the ground laughed. "I don't think they're human", he said. "I don't think they are." He laughed again, then like a dam bursting, he erupted into a painful screech. He held his head in his hands, and started twisting and writhing like a snake, all the while, screaming.

The four teenagers stared, mesmerized and unable to do anything. The man screamed in agony, digging his fingers at his temples.

"Call an ambulance", Cynthia shouted, searching her purse. Then, something unexpected happened. The screaming man's ears, nose, mouth and eyes started drawing out blood. He screamed in excruciating pain. More blood flowed out. And then, as instantly as it has begun, he stopped and dropped dead.

A moment of silence waved by, but was cut short by Cynthia's shrieks. John held her. Sarah felt dizzy. She couldn't think clearly anymore. The alcohol she'd taken earlier, and the thing that Cynthia had given her, all seemed to conspire against her, wanting to cripple her. She fisted the piece of paper tightly in her hand. Her vision was blurring, and her head throbbed painfully.

She didn't want to faint. She wanted to stay awake. The nightmares. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she swayed, trying to maintain balance.

"Sarah", Gary said, searching her eyes. "Sarah."

"I—I—don't want to..." She didn't finish, her legs gave out. She felt herself falling but Gary caught her, scooping her in his arms.

"What's wrong with her?" Cynthia's voice was full of panic. "What happened? Sarah, come on, open your eyes."

She wanted too but she couldn't. A soft hand touched her fisted hand, and slowly unfastened her hand and took the curled paper. She felt Cynthia's hand stroking her hair. The wailing of sirens reached her ears.

I don't want to sleep, she thought. Don't let me go to sleep, please. She couldn't keep herself from falling into oblivion. She was weak, and slowly drifting into unconsciousness. The sirens were closer now, and she could hear more noises around her.

And then she heard nothing.

It's a new mystery, I know and If you like it, stick around, and you'll see why and how and what??

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Thank you.