Lost in Time

Volume 7 Part 2: The Girl and the Gallows

Volume 7 Part 2: The Girl and the Gallows

Cold tentacles crept up Nia's neck, like a sinister serpent leaving a horde of goose bumps in its wake as it wound itself around her still body. Her baby hairs stood on end as a sudden sense of foreboding engulfed her, soaking her in its chilling mist. She hugged her body, rubbing her upper arms to keep warm in the spontaneous blizzard. Her puffy eyes darted about the strange place as a gale of wind lapped at her hair in repeated strokes.

She was in a clearing of some sort. Beyond a couple of feet from her, a tapestry of darkness hung heavy and thick. She turned around and her eyes landed on something in the faint shimmer of light, a shiftless shape in the deep-space stir of darkness. Her feet led her in that direction, hesitant but making headway one shaky foot at a time.

As though materialized out of thin air-and the air here was pretty thin- she saw a girl, teensy, lying curled on the ground, writhing. Her hair, a simple coiffure of flaming red locks, fell all over her in a disheveled mess. Mewls of anguish escaped her in intermittent turns, alternating with the shallow breaths.

Nia knelt beside her, and turned her on her back.

"Oh...shaft!" A curse exploded from her as she swiftly fumbled to her feet, her heart tearing in two in sheer horror. Half of the girl's face was...zombiefied. Her left eye socket was hollow, the left half of her face in a horrid decay. Pale pieces of rotten flesh peeled off of her face like old paint on a tenement wall, dangling down in a disturbing display. The stench that hit Nia nearly knocked her off her feet. When she recovered, she heard a faint whisper, fickle in the ominous hiss of sudden wind.

She stepped closer, covering her face with the chicken-wing of her inner elbow.

"This..." zombie girl started in a barely audible whisper and Nia listened closer, "...is all...your fault." She finished and coughed, ooze as black as tar spurting out of her mouth. She then let out a horror-laden growl that sent Nia scampering away in a fear she had not known in a mighty long time.

Sitting up with a start, Nia felt a warm trickle of sweat connecting the vertical dimensions of her face. Her breaths were sharp, her heart racing against an invisible monster of fire and wind. She was in a bed, well the same bed she woke up in before. She was drowning in sweat, her skin slick and her shirt sticking to her like a tick. A faint throb in her head reminded her why she had passed out.

She was getting second tired of that.

She turned and gasped when she met Phil's face idling inches from her. He was sitting on the bed right next to her, ogling at her in a weird wide-eyed gaze.

"Argh!" She grimaced and edged away from him. "Why is yours the only face I see when I wake up?" She chided as she stood up. She peered down towards her legs and the length of her body was covered in something like a truncated pair of shorts. Granted they were denim jeans, they did little to conceal her shame, barely scratching the surface in doing the job clothes were meant to do.

Her scowl settled on not-funny Phil.

"This your idea of a joke?" Before Phil knew what was happening, Nia had closed the yard or two between them and whacked him against the wall. Well, she thought it was her neural interface that helped the first time, but it appeared the skinny boy was just a literal lightweight. Even as she squeezed the life out of him, she felt energy desert her arm. Damn, she didn't think it was real. But she had to face the fact that Noin was acting up. And whenever a neural interface misbehaves, it's never a good sign for the host.

"Not...my idea. But I dig it." Phil said with an annoying smile, a bit of spinach or whatever leaves the aggravating creature consumed for lunch was stuck between his upper incisor and canine. Skinny teeth. He was having a little problem breathing, but had no problem smiling.