Chapter 2
Agony.
I can’t move.
Why can’t I move?
I think I see blood. It’s everywhere.
The world is fading in and out. It’s a struggle to keep the picture steady. Before my eyes are dusty gray cobblestones, lines and cracks, sharp against the blue sky and old maroon brick buildings. They’re painted with bright red liquid. It’s bright and sunny, and every clear stone, gray circular dip and tiny bump along the surface of the cobblestones is all I can see, sharp details among a sea of pain.
A boot.
A leather boot, embossed, wrinkled and brown and old, wading in the red pool. Leather boot on cobblestone, all I can see. Person. Human. Help. Help. Help! HELP! HELP!
What is he doing?
No.
No.
He’s whispering to me and touching my face. It’s soft. I can’t hear what he’s saying. I can’t. Someone. Someone. Please.
The world is fading.
Agony.
There are knees in front of me in blue wrinkled denims. Him. Her. They cast shadows on the old cobblestones. There is minute dirt in some of the cracks. I can’t see if anyone is behind him. Her. The world is screaming. I can’t move. I can’t move. Why. Why isn’t anybody-
A glove, brown leather, floats, in sharp relief against the sun and shadows. It’s holding something…what is it-
The agony lifts and disappates into the air.
All I can feel is numbness.
I can’t move.
I can’t speak.
I see a face.
It’s so pale, and it looks so familiar. It’s painted with makeup.
A perfect, symmetrical face.
Something’s odd about it.
…Porcelain?
YOU ARE READING
*Porcelain Face. (PG-13, not actually R)
Mystery / ThrillerA Murder, a Mystery. All over town there are mysterious disappearances. And curiously realistic dolls of the missing people delivered to doorsteps.... Who is Doll? Who is the person watching Doll? What are those weird creepy life-sized dolls appe...
