ACADEMY FOR THE DAMNED

Chapter One

Academy for the Damned

Chapter One

I was eight again. Was I dreaming? I was lying in my bed and I sensed I was not alone. Something lay beside me something that I knew in my immature mind was wicked and deadly. I was vaguely aware of closing my eyes tight and pressing my hands over my ears. The thing was talking to me and I did not want to know what it was saying. The monster showed me things, visions no child should ever see. The creature wanted something from me, a service!

I was running in the dark but the further I ran the closer the creature came to me. It had me and would not let me go. I was struggling, fighting, screaming.

My eyes opened wide and the dream and memories from another time melted away suddenly. I am Dillon Kincaide and I am seventeen years old, not eight. I just had a nightmare of my younger self having a nightmare. I had relived a horrible memory I had once pushed deep, deep into my mind and forgotten an age ago. The dream had gone and all I could recall was the terror it had inspired. I tried to raise my head but it felt like a lump of stone and I lowered it back onto the pillow. My tongue was a huge piece of rubber and my mouth felt numb. I closed my eyes again and felt fluid spring from them and tears trickled down the sides of my head.

The pillow felt so comfortable and the bed was like a cushion of air. I did not want to rise up out of it. Why did I feel so groggy? The memory and feelings associated with the nightmare faded fast. Finally my eyelids parted and I looked at the ceiling. With a supreme effort I managed to sit up. The room wheeled about me and I felt I was on a spinning carousel. I blinked my eyes several times and violently shook my head.

A nagging thought wormed its way into my head. I could not lie here all day. I had to get up and go to college. The spinning came to a stop and I managed to swing my legs out of bed onto the floor which was cold against the soles of my feet. I stood up and promptly collapsed as my legs gave way under me. I tumbled to the floor. I felt as if I had been drinking all night and woken with the mother of all hangovers. Something was very wrong. Was I ill?

I was sprawled on the floor but managed to struggle upright. Using the side of the bed as a crutch I got to my feet and remained standing for several seconds before launching myself into the en- suite bathroom. Clutching the sink I peered at myself in the mirror observing my pupils were pin points. I stuck out my tongue and there was greyish fur over it. I had to be coming down with something. I can't remember ever feeling this bad. Did I want to return to bed and spend the day sleeping and drinking bowls of soup?

Turning on the cold tap I splashed water onto my face. Next I brushed my teeth and then I filled a glass with water and drank the entire contents. My tongue started to feel less alien.

I felt so much better. The mugginess in my head was starting to pass. I shook it again. I downed another glass of water and decided to shower. My legs no longer felt like rubber and I knew I would not tumble again so I let go the sink and stepped over to the shower cubicle. I turned the shower lever towards the red and water exploded out the shower head and I put in tentative fingers to feel the temperature of the water droplets. I stepped into the cubicle.

The room rapidly filled with steam and the hot droplets hitting my skin felt good. Raising my face to the ceiling I allowed the water to stream deliciously over my face. Taking a bar of soap from the dish at the side I started lathering my chest. While washing I noticed there was a red mark on my lower left arm and a large bruise on my thigh. The one on my thigh was very tender and hurt when I poked it. It bled slightly. Where did these marks come from? I couldn't remember hurting himself. Then I had a strange intrusive thought. I had already gone to the college that day and that I wasn't really here in my bedroom. I was at college.