He stands and the room spins. Gasping for air he holds onto the ball but he can, and stumbles forward into the hallway. He glances around the corner, head pounding, each step a hammer-blow to his brain. He hears a faint beeping, like a heart monitor, and heads towards it. He reaches the end of the hallway where the beeping is loudest and sees a window into another room. Siggno door, he cupped his hands on the glass to see in. He falls backward into the wall behind him almost instantaneously, having seen what can only be described as a beast, staring right back at him bloodshot eyes. Realizing he'd opened his mouth to yell, he shut it, then realized no sound had come out. He opened his mouth again and tried to yell, but only a whisper of air came. Panicking he launched himself down the hallway and ran straight into a girl. Her, his mind said. Where am I? He thought, then hevp realized his thoughts were loud. He retreated a few steps and stared at "her." She stared back. He felt a push against his consiousness and the hammers returned, full force, raining blows from every direction. Through the pain he felt "her" push through the hammers, making the pain subside. A new pain began, as he lay panting on the floor, a full stabbing as she thought to him. Hello. Wha- who... Hello. Uh, hi? Where do you come from? The room over there. He pointed toward the room he'd come from. Name? He blanked, and tried to retreat into himself, attempting to block out her thoughts. She frowned and began to push harder. Suddenly he fell, overcome by the images flashing through his brain. My memories! He realized. He cried out mentally and the images stopped, replaced by a gentle hum that began to lull him into nothingness. As he faded, the girl lifted him up and whispered, "He's ours."
YOU ARE READING
Mind Palace
DiversosThis isn't overall Sherlock related. This is my mind's creative content. These are my thoughts. Un-edited. Constructive Criticism is welcome.