Broken Nightmares

Broken Nightmares Part 13

The dark corridor grew quiet as Jack crawled out of the hallway – the soft rain could be heard softly patting the windows. Kri's body layed lifeless although he still lived. The occasional breeze flowed through the air around me, brushing my hair softly. I almost forgot about Shanna next to me, she seemed scared, “Mummy?”. A pale ghost-like figure appeared at the very end of the hall in front of me. I didn't know why, but I felt urged to follow her as she paced zombified down a horizontal corridor. I carefully passed the Dream Weaver as well as the bloodied body beside him, I walked at least 50 meters behind the ethereal woman before she turned to pace up a flight of stairs. Shanna had now disappeared, deserting me to follow the woman alone as she trudged in her white glow.

It wasn't long before I came to the puddle that had I awoken in just less than half an hour ago, the liquified mess still stained the floor only now, trickled down the steps onto the floor below. I carefully stepped around the puddle, although my feet were already soaked and made my way up the rest of the stairs to the highest floor. A long empty corridor is all that stood between me and the ajarred door at the end, although another door stood at the top of the stairs it seemed to lead outside.

I decided to carry on walking, walking towards the mysterious door at the end of the desolate passage. My heart began to ache, and my wounds burned – the closer I got to the door only exaggerated the pain further. I exerted a small amount of force onto the door using my left hand, wavering it open to reveal a sort of bedsit, and the faint smell of death. There was a huge mainframe just like the machines back at the testing facility where I spent over 2 years of my life, the machine glowed red and a huge desk filled with books and papers sat beside. A bed sat to the right of the door, with small bed-side tables creating a half bedroom, half control room.

I noticed Lynne sat in the corner of the room clutching her knees to her chest, whimpering – although she never noted my existence up until now. An old photo sat by her feet and I moved over to look at it. It was a picture of a woman and 2 young girls laying on the grass with the camera glancing down on their happy faces. The woman seemed familiar to me, she had blonde hair with bright emerald green eyes that were full of life, she looked young for her obvious age. Then the two girls are what caused my heart to almost leap out of its cage – there were 2 girls, one with black hair complimented by her dark blue eyes, and one with white hair – she had bright green eyes, just like the woman. I had a feeling... that the girl in the photo was me, and the black haired girl looked just like...

I now sat at the desk, sorting through many papers and books, they were mostly filled diaries and story books. I checked out a few papers, huge chunks have been torn out although much of the story still remained.

“Chris Handler reports, Three children of an adolescent age seem to have disappeared overnight. After their trip back from the city of Hull, the children – as claimed by the mother of a girl, 14 years of age. 'They seemed to be in a sort of trance, one of her friends ran straight to the toilet sick the second they got in. I never heard from them all night until the morning when I came to check on their sleep over, the beds were empty with little traces of blood...' the mother then broke down in tears. There's still absolutely no leads to what happened to them but, one thing can be sure – we need to learn of what happened when the children were out.” the text became too faded after this, although many of the other papers were also too torn or soggied that the ink smudged.

I began to look at the diaries, there were quite a few and so I picked the earliest dated one.

I pulled open the dated book as a little dust poofed out, causing me to cough out my lungs – I could read the first page though, it only had a name: Ellen Harflower. The first page was accompanied by a little flower doodle, probably drawn by the writer when bored. The second I turned the page, a bright light blinded me, my eyes began to sting as my body felt like it was being ripped to shreds before I blacked out.