Running From Death

4: The Worst of Dreams

Two days have passed and almost all the boxes have been emptied and the main rooms have been set up. In the past two days I have not seen Lazarus. My mind is still confused on why he blamed bee's, or even why my father believed me. I'm not even sure if I believe me, and I saw it! Maybe it was bee's. The creature from Hell that I saw couldn't have been real.

The black ooze is still haunting my dreams. The crisp fall air dares the leaves to dance on the ground. Looking at the leaves brought some type of comfort to me, maybe it was the sound. Maybe it was the way that all they had to do was dance with the wind. I hum a lullaby when the wind picks up. The leaves dance on the sidewalk and I am mesmerised. When a dark liquid wet the red and orange leaves, I look up. The tall slender creature had hung itself upside down and was staring into my eyes. The pitch black orbs, lifeless. I dont think my body has ever been this numb. The horror infront of me sounded like it was purring. Not like a kitten, though. My legs numb as I stumble into a standing position, not taking my eyes off of the demon. I don't even realize I'm running until an ungodly screech rings through the air. My heavy footsteps crunching the dead leaves as I run, but that's not the only thing I hear. Something I can only describe as large spider crawling has clung itself into my sense of hearing. Jumping over obstacles that has not been there before caused me to trip and fall many times, causing blood to drip down my shins. There is no time to pitty myself without the hell-creature attacking me; I sprint on. I run until a fifty foot wall blocks my path.

Im becoming desperate to leave. I try to climb the vertical wall of stone. With no luck. My fingers start to bleed from trying so hard. When I realize that I'm doomed breathing has become difficult for me. Every breath I take is shallow and painful. Death was the only option left, I start to turn to my pursuer. Instead of a oozy nightmare I saw a boy.

"Lazarus?" I heaved. His eyes looked diffrent. Not hostile, not sad. More of determined.

Without words he steps forward and wraps his arms around my feminine frame. I am still frozen from the chase that has only ended a minute ago. Lazarus starts to whisper things like "you're fine" and other calming things. His arms tighten, it felt more comforting. He tightens again, this is more tight than I would prefer. Even tighter yet, I can't breathe.

"Laza-"

"Shh, you don't think you lost the monster that quick do you?"

As he said this, he grew a sinister smile. Then all of a sudden slime from earlier had started pouring out of every pore possible.

I remember waking up in a cold sweat and a sore throat.

When I finish unpacking our dishes I start my way to my room. The lightly lit house had made me stopped, the word safe was an understatement for the feeling.
The warm light of sunset bounces off the light colored furniture and dark wood floors. Out of all the housed we moved to, this one had the most personality. I felt connected to it. My past, my fears, my worries seemed to dissipate when the sun shines through the windows of the old house.

As I climbed the creaky stairs I realized that each step had a story. Each sound in the step was a moment of a previous owner. I had nothing to back this up but I could feel something telling me I was correct. I listened closely to each creak. The fifth one had the smallest noise, my guess is that this family lived a small, quiet life. The eighth was the loudest, contrasting the quietest. As I reached the last step there was no noise. Was this my story? Could the thirteenth step possibly represent me? Okay, no. I'm just creating things in my head again.

Each step I took towards my room felt misgiven. Something was off. I slow my walk and lighten my step to see if I could hear anything. Nothing. A strong feeling of premonition has overcome my body. Each step that feeling is growing.

It's not until I reach my door when I hear faint whispering, like a prayer. When I listen closer I hear it's not English. I peek around the frame and see Lazarus sitting with is legs folded and arms spread. After a few moments, he gets louder and sounds more hostile. Almost like a chant. He lowers his arms and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Swiss blade and opens the knife. Time seemed to slow down dramatically.

As he brought the blade to his arm I lunged forward. The sound of his chanting grew into screams as he drew blood and held his arm over a bowl. I run around so we are face to face. "Lazarus! Knock out of it!" I scream in his face. No response. When he finally opens his eyes they are milky white. I curse under my breath and slap him as hard as I could muster. I stare at him as his eyes transform back to reality. All it took was one look at his arm to make him freak.

"What the hell have they done to me?"