Haunted

Chapter Fourteen

I made a mistake.

I can feel it the moment I'm withing touching distance of Ian.

I don't know what it is, but there's just this weird feeling going across my skin, and the smell --- I've smelled it before, and it's incredibly unpleasant. I stop right before I reach the shadows, my eyes widening as I see Ian.

Only, it's not Ian at all.

Fuck, why did I keep messing up with this!?

Screwing up and letting Jason realize I could see him was one thing, he turned out to be harmless and just needy.

But this --- shit!

I can tell it instantly, it's like my instincts scream at me to move. I take a step back, trying to get out of the darkness, but it's too late, I've gone too far. I look down in horror as something wraps around my arm, and my shriek of alarm is cut off before it ever really starts.

Click, click, click.

~~~~~~

I have the worst headache.

I stir a little, feeling my head pound, a constant tempo against my skull. I groan, rolling over onto my back, my hand rising to my head.

I touch my bruised skin, and I wince at the pain. I bring my fingers back, my vision waning back and forth. Red stains my fingers, which I find a little weird --- when did I hit my head exactly?

Wait, where am I?

I blink, and sit up quickly --- only to immediately regret the decision!

Nausea rolls over me so sharply I can't stop it, and the contents of my stomach spill from my lips. My arm curls around my waist in pain, and I shudder, chills suddenly racing along my spine.

Shit!

Why do I feel so weak all of a sudden?

I squeeze my eyes shut for several seconds, feeling some of my hair fall into my eyes.

I give it a moment, trying to let my stomach settle. Okay, well, that's not so bad now. I raise my head a little, but it's so dark, I can barely see anything.

I lean back carefully, wiping at my lips with the back of my hand. My face is hot, my head is burning, so I think I must have bumped and cut it somewhere. 

Okay, remember your steps.

Where are you? Establish a place.

I used to wake up screaming when I was a kid, waking myself from sleep with panic attacks. I'd been given medication, but the advice my doctor gave me was better then any drugs.

Steps.

Step one, find out where you are.

Step two, establish how you got there.

Step three, take back control.

I need to do the first one.

I look around, but I know I've never been here before. Oddly, it looks familiar though. I rise to my feet unsteadily, using the wall to support my weight. It's so cold here, I'm shivering, and I quickly wipe my arms around myself. 

Okay, it's super dusty. I make markings in the wall where I touch, and there's a window --- totally mucky, missing some glass. It's letting cold air in, but all I can see out of it are trees, I hear an owl.

Not helping.

Oh!

Fuck, I have a phone!

My hand goes to my pocket, and the relief I feel at realizing it's still in my pocket is immeasurable. I fumble a moment, but I can't seem to get it out, my fingers are so heavy and thick.