Chagall's Daydream *EDITING

Dream

The man's boots make a dull booming sound as they collapse onto the dirty stone floor beneath. His footsteps and the sound of crackling flames, they're sounding as though they're getting closer and closer to my hiding spot. I can feel my anxiety spike, and my breathing grow much heavier than I'd like. It's so loud; my disgustingly strong wheeze is clearly audible over the heavy thumping just outside.

'Shhhh, calm down...'

'Just breathe, oh my god, just breathe'

'Please...'

The muted squeaking from my windpipe seemingly grows louder and louder as the silence outside grows more and more deafening. He's most likely noticed by now. Oh my god... I can't go now! The poor man, he's watching me! He can't look, it'll be too much. Will this be more painful for me, or him?

Hold on...

...

...

...

Where did he go? 

...

As if on cue, the sweltering steel fire locker door whips open in an obnoxiously thick cloud of smoke and sparks, laced with some putrid smelling substance. I back away, shielding my eyes from the overwhelming sight of my... my assailant, and a pale figure writhing around in fury behind a barred, Plexiglas window.

"I found you, Doctor!" 

The hideous creature rears up before me, and giggles in a revolting psychotic delight, licking his lips as if he's a hungry wolf, and I'm a plump, wounded deer. Forked tongues of flame lick at his shoulders, scorching unrelentingly at his skin, but causing no pain.

His voice sounds quite odd to me. It's sort of playful with a sinister edge; it's quite sadistic in my opinion. He grabs me by the wrist and drags me across the melting, plastic lined floor to the center of the room. There's no light coming from outside - I guess the windows were blocked off to cut down the oxygen levels - and the sight of my broken machine looms menacingly before me.

 A sharp squeal of fear escapes from between my burnt and bleeding lips. His husky frame drops down onto his knees and extends an enormous, scarred hand out at my head. The ghastly thing grabs me by the mess of hair on top of my head, and thrusts it into the flames.

Though he lets go, I'm unable to move out of harm's way. I catch a glimpse of the damned man running off out of the lab, most likely to safety. He'll proclaim the horrors that he'd witnessed inside of the lab, and tell of the clumsy technician who fell into his own destruction.

The flames consume my body, and only now does the pain truly set in.

I scream out at the sudden, horribly agonising pain and the shock that this was finally happening. This nearly unimaginable, distant thing that we've all heard of but could never truly wrap our minds around was becoming a harsh, stone cold reality right before my eyes.

I'm about to die.

I don't want to die.

I'm not ready!

My eyes, though beginning to burn and ooze their contents from the sheer heat and bits of shrapnel shooting out from the exploding equipment around me, gaze upon the now-empty observation chamber where our CEO had been watching just a few minutes earlier.

I hope he's okay...

Oh, what a shame that he had to watch this...

Is this even real?