Horror

Zains murder part 2

The pain was unimaginable, I felt as I was being crushed by a truck and then, boom, one unlucky blow for the bastard and I was out, bleeding from my head, everything became muffled and I could hear this loud beeping sound before everything faded to black.

I woke up around a day later at the local hospital, my whole body bandaged up, not remembering a shit of what happened. Turns out that even with a chance to lose the use of my arms I was the lucky one. Zain was dead. Me suffering partial amnesia, I was informed that the gang had found me and Zain lying in a pulp on the side of the road next to the field we were at. Officially, even today, over a decade after the incident, it is assumed that we were the victims of a Hit-and-Run accident.

I felt like shit when I woke up, from all of my injuries, and the idea that I might have a useless limb, but when I heard my best friend had died, I completely lost my shit. It’s like a part of me dying in that instant. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t, nothing came out. Like a part of my soul had died. I was depressed for a while and a few weeks after the incident we moved to Houston so I could get better medical attention.

Made a full recovery, my doctors deemed me a miracle, my arm was obliterated and the wound in my head did not seem to cause much internal damage, if at all, unlike what was expected. Today I practice Kickboxing and Judo and I even considered joining the military, but eventually I gave up the idea due to my psychological trauma. You see, I kept suffering from these nightmare in which I would get beaten shitless by a group of shadows in this huge gray grass field, it felt so real, so painful, apparently my PTSD kicked in kind of late. Hence, the reason I even took up martial arts in my mid teens in the first place – to channel my newfound aggression somewhere positive.

Fast forward to a few days ago and I made a trip to Eureka to meet old faces and see old places, I needed this, I guess, or maybe it was by an act of fate or whatever, not that I believe in this stuff anymore. Here’s to the many magical properties of modern medicine! So, I come here and the first person I meet is this girl, Darcy, who used to go to school with me, and wow, this girl, she had blossomed into a one heck of a woman, after some catching up she offered me to stay at her place for the duration of my visit. I immediately agreed, I am just a man after all, and if you could see her, I promise you’d fall in love too. She’s freaking gorgeous now!

I digress though, me and Miss Castiliagno had a nice afternoon together and then she said she had to leave for work, telling me to feel at home at her place, and I did, for a couple of hours. Being the fucked up, restless guy I am, I quickly got bored and went out for a stroll in town.

Just as I left her apartment, I saw a crow land on the cable line a few feet ahead of me, it looked at me, called and flew further before stopping once more and staring at me again. No idea why, but I felt like it tried to make me follow it’s trail of flight.

This thing continued until I reached the town’s bar; the crow would fly a bit, look at me and wait for me to catch up then fly again some more, stop again, look, and repeat the cycle. The crow ended up landing on the roof of the bar building, it set down and stared. I stared back at it for a moment and then I was snapped back to reality by a familiar voice, it was Red’s, it hadn’t changed a bit, still hoarse and half broken after all those years.

I heard him say something along the lines of, “I can’t handle this anymore… It’s torturing me!”

And then another voice said, “Come on, it’s not that bad, we could suffer an eternity in Hell, you know”

More religious mambo-jambo, these guys hadn’t changed at all, I guess.

“Dude, it’s been like twelve years since we’ve fucked up this guy” a third voice said