Her greasy hair is stuck to her forehead as if in an attempt to protect her head from the outside world. She stands there, with black straight hair reaching her waist, and her perfectly sketched numb eyes with a garland of dark lashes. She is wearing a white frock, the hem of which is touching her knees everytime the breeze passed by. And she is staring shallowly at Dr. Roy. She looks like a damsel in distress who has been harassed for so long but never her knight did come.
Suddenly, her fair, golden skin moves as if it will crawl out of her body any moment. The white pigments shake with vibration and slowly pitch black pigments take their place causing the girl to look like a beautiful damned angel- a magical miracle of science and fantasy. Her hair is now dark brown and it waves down to her shoulders, illuminating the broad visible collerbones. Dr. Roy's attention fall on her eyes which lay bare on her face, evoking nothing. Her skinny hands and legs stand there unmoved like a painting. Every stroke of the painter compliemnts the bones she has in her body.
With the breath in his chest, clogged inside, Dr. Roy asks her name. He cannot breathe, so he clasps the first thing his hand reaches. It is soft and wet; he looks at the dead body with a distorted face. Now the girl lifts her lips into a faint villainy smile. One can see the gloom residing at the corner of her lips. Dr. Roy can feel her body shaking violently and she is mouthing irresolvable tangles of letters and words.
Dr. Roy wants to move his hand away in disgust but the more he wants, the more his fingers dive into the rotten flesh. He can smell death and bacteria. He look up again to disentangle the silent, chained words the girl is shooting him with.
He finds the words: "Let me out"
Then the girls screams out painfully and shows a rusty key dripping with gory blood. His finger clutched the flesh deeply, and he produces a cry of shock.
The girl is gone. Only the key is lying shining on the floor coverred with darkness. Dr. Roy wants to pick it up and examine it, but he cannot. His hands and legs are paralyzed. He demands to scream but his voice quivers and makes no noise in the physical world.
All things go blur, and a deep sense of asthma choke him hard.
****
A/N:
Well, lol, here I am.
Everytime I think of taking a break from this story, I end up writing it again with more intensity. Am I seriously insane?
A few hours ago I was like "sorry readers, I won't be able to write now" and see here I am.
I need medical help 😂😂😂
So, when I am already here, why not tell me how is the chapter? Should I publish more frequently? And what do you think is happening in here?
One thing, I want to thank you readers for rwading my story. It has gained 248 reads which is totally a shock to me. Please continue enjoying this story. I hope you love the characters.
Don't forget to vote and comment.
:) Bye!
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