I clutched the cold metal of the playground gate as it swung, supernaturally in the frigid wind. Restlessly, a bloodcurdling howl echoed through the roundabout; the scream of a tormented spirit cackled over the hopscotch leaving a trail of fine mist behind it. Jerking my hand from the entrance, I screeched upon realising that my hand was dripping..........with blood. The odour scrambled into my parched throat like a playful child clambering over a climbing frame and onto my tongue - now writhing in agony - as I could taste the essence of a lost life kiss my lips. Gently, the cold metallic taste of blood touched my senses, overwhelmingly, it slithered down my throat, entwining its evil around my soul and pulling it down to hell, where it would fester for eternity. Fear consumed me whole.
Stepping forward, I could sense screams in the air - cries of tormented children - though the playground was empty. I suspected that its previous meal had been particularly appeasing. Vigorously, a cloak of mist incarcerated me, enfolding me into its blankets. The fog was a spider and I was its prey. As it encased me I could smell entrails in the air. I had not been the mists first victim. The wind thrashed the trees around me, as they rustled through the bewitched screams of tormented children. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting shadows onto the slide, smothered in blood. Contorted, abhorrent and rebarbative shapes - writhing between the mist, they were visions of the near future. They were insights into what I would become.
The fog intensified, leaving only a narrow corridor between me and the roundabout. It was a witch, circling her cauldron, cackling as she hexed her prey. Where was I to turn? Crouching on the tarmac floor I was resolute. I would die. Petulantly, the wind roared at my fingers, threatening to rip them from my very flesh. I felt despondent; there was no way out. My heart sunk as the mist engulfed me, my morose at this heightened, as the wind chilled my spine and the blood red moon reflected my tears onto the droplets of blood beneath me. Tirelessly, I clasped the air, but I felt the fog enclose me and more I grew weaker still. 'Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!' I cried in an empty, shrill screech. Preparing to close my eyes, I heard a pop on the roundabout, and there I saw it - the jack-in-the-box, glaring at me with those eyes that blink only to observe the terror that it creates. Grimacing at me he licks his lips, foretasting the meal to come...........
I am standing now, in the playground. Circled by children, all of them walking towards me in unison, screaming, as they throw themselves around me. Something was different though; where there was once a playground full of toys and slides, there is a burning world of pain, anguish and distress..............
