Nightmares Alive

Darla

It all made sense.

I think.

I had the image come up with the tied up person. That was me. In it was something metal in the kidnapper's hand. A pistol. Or a FIFMD, whatever it was. It all happened!

But wait.

What about the image with the war scene?

Wounded women and children brought to safety.

Men and police firing at supposed military aircraft.

Bombings.

"It's starting to click, isn't it Sarah?"

I didn't realize I was holding my breath as I let out a gasp of air and started to hyperventilate, unsteady breathing.

"What's wrong? Boss asked.

Before I had the chance to answer, the same door that he had went through was stormed open by a woman I didn't recognize, probably in her early 20's. She carried a pistol and did not look happy.

Boss spun around to see the woman and was in shock. "Darla?"

Darla's expression changed when she smiled at him. She pulled the gun up, aimed, and pulled the trigger. She aimed perfectly, right at his heart. Boss's body when limp and he collapsed on the tile floor.

She then ran over to me and I tried to get away. I had gone through too much and was not about to die.

Darla laughed when she saw the fear on my face and attached the pistol to her belt. "Haha, I'm not going to hurt you, sweetie. Come on, let's get you out of here." She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and started to work on picking the locks on my wrists.

I sat up in shock at her, and then glanced at the man she had just shot. He laid on his back, blood oozing out from the hole in his shirt and soaking it red. It pooled around him and started to stain the floor red. His eyes were open but rolled into the back of his head.

She couldn't have just killed him, could she?

"Who are you?" I asked as she freed my right wrist, making her way to my left now.

"I'm Darla. But that doesn't matter. Not at the moment. Right now, we need to get you out of her and to an sort of safety."

"And how do I know that I can trust you to take me to 'safety'?" I asked.

"Well," she said smiling, unlocking my last wrist from the bed. "Who else is there to trust?"