Mist

Chapter 1: violent eyes and sunset flowers

                      1420 words
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       The explosion, there it was again. White hot and just so there. Then came the screams, and the smell of flesh rotting off of bones. Of skin turning to ash. All surrounded in a suffocating blanket of black fog.
      The sharp feeling of cold, bone-like fingers grappling at my to-hot skin. Looking down into the sightless, empty eyes of what was once my handler. Now reduced to a skellitall, boney, rotting cadaver.
       That's right around when the screaming usually began. Short, hot bursts of sharpend air forcing its way past my vocal cords, burning my throat on their violent quest to be heard. Not that there was ever anybody there to hear them, of which I'm okey saying I'm happy about. It would be even more embarrassing to night terror with people around, not to mention dangerous. I've awoken countless times surrounded in thick blankets of black fog, or the suffocating yet invisible pressure of anxious mist.
         The cold air stung my sweaty skin as I rolled to a sitting position on the bed and dropped my feet to the ground, rellishing in the almost painful feeling of the freezing cobbled floor against my bare feet. I dropped my head into my hands.
        It wasn't like that, the explosion. There was no screaming, no rotting flesh, no sightless handler stairing up at me. It was painless. Or at least that's what I told myself. It was painless. Yes, it had to be. No one ever called out in pain, of course none of them ever had the time to.
        I balled my fists against my eyes, clenching my jaw to prevent any new screams from forcing their way past my cold lips. I glanced up at my alarm clock on the bedside table. 4:38am it read.
     
        "Just one night. That's all I ask, just one solid night of sleep." I half mumbled to no one in particular. "Time to start the day. Yay."

        I get up and automatically set back down. The floor was really cold, so cold it sent violent shivers up my spine. Collecting right between my sholder blades and making me have to shudder to relieve the pressure. 'One more time Wolfi' I think to myself and force myself to my feet once more, hobbling towards the sweat pants layed accross the back of the old looking chair in the corner. Slipping them on before hobbling back towards the little draw that held all the clothing that I owned.
        Now let's skip a few hours, until after the shower and what measly breakfast I could fix up for myself.

  "Looks like a trip to the cornucopia is writen in the stars for the agenda today," I joke, directed towards the other girl in the room. Makie, the astrailian shepherd. "Ya wanna watch the house for me today? Or do ya wanna go see the big scary butcherman with me?" Automatically she dropped to the ground in defeat. I  chuckled at her reluctance "I'll take that as a no?" I chuckled again as I mentally prepaired myself for the monthly trip into the little town of Lone Rock. 
        "Look at that, I used to be one of the brightest minds in the scientific comunity. And now I'm talking to a dog."
     I headed towards the door, towards the pain of society.
     Let's skip another few hours now. I've already forced my way through the door, down the steps and into the old ford truck that waits for me in the car park infront of the small cottage that was my home. Headed down the drive and started down the highway, all the while listening to my favorite classical rock, smooth jazz, and whatever genra Sebastian Bach is supposed to be.
        Singing along with the music, I didn't notice the slightly ominous air craft fly above me, towards my home. I didn't notice the shift in air pressure as it touched down in the field near the cottage. I also did not notice the circular emblem on the bottom of the craft, the bird~like shape on its under caraige. I just simply sang along to Yesterday and drove. Completely oblivious.
        The drive into town was uneventful as usual. Still the same trees, the same flowers, the same birds. If I had known that that would be one of the last times I ever saw that place, I would have paid more attention to it. I would have aknowledged its beauty and not taken it for granted as I had. But I hadn't known, so I simply drove through, and, oh how I would come to regret that.
         When I reached the bordering sign, 'welcome to Lone Rock' I stopped driving. Anxiety was already threatening to work its way out of the cage I put it in.
           'Hush Wolf, just breath, you dont want to harm anyone again do you? No. That's what I thought. Nobody wants to see that Wolfi.'
          I had an odd way of talking to myself like I was somebody else at times. Like it was an actual other person trying to comfort another. I suppose that sort if thing comes with being without human contact for so long. It is proof of my slowly deteriorating mental state, I was beggining to reach the point where if I didn't actually talk for a long period of time with another person I might actually lose my mind. Splendid.
          Once re-caging the anxiety monster I stepped again on the excelerater and drove once more into the town.
          I had been free from the horrors of the place I was in before for 414 days, that's a year, one month, and ninteen days. In the beggining I was too terrified to leave the territory around the cottage. Surviving on what little edible plants I could find, but after the winter months began to roll around, I knew that if I didn't go into town soon, I was going to starve to death.         
          So I pulled on my big girl pants and hesitantly drove into the town. I was afraid I would lose control again and hurt somebody, I was afraid someone would find out about my power and report me to the FBI or something. Terrified that *they* might find me again. So I tried to keep my visits to a minimum, once a month I'd travel into town for the things I need. Not talking to anyone, not looking at anyone, just keeping my head down and doing my buisness.
          Today was no different really. I got all the things I couldn't grow in my greenhouse garden and hopped back into the truck, pulling back towards the imagined safety of home.  What was different however was an even more vibrant feeling of eyes on me then usual. People always have tended to give me those odd sideways glances of suspission. I've narrowed it down to three possibilities. I emit some form of pheremone that naturally tells people that I am a danger to them, I make my body language that of someone who doesn't want to be bothered, or, the more disturbing thought, I have an extra mist that I haven't known about that I emit when I don't want to be bothered that tells people to stay back.
        Today just seemed to be worse though. The eyes seemed much more violent. But I've always been a bit paranoid so I just pushed it off  on over exaggerated nerves.
         I drove home to the sweet sound  of the Eagles, not knowing at all of what would conspire within the next hour. How I wish I had played more attention to the flowers. My last day at this home was almost done.
          The half hour drive back home went oh so quickly. I pulled into the sunset-lit car park and sat for a moment. Just soaking in the sun, before getting up, grabbing my stuff, and moving towards the worst and the best day of my life. Suddenly that feeling of violent eyes did not feel so imagined.

Those violent eyes.

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Whadaya think? Should I at least try and keep this one going? I'm gonna just post this one for now and draft the rest so that I can drop em' all on ya at the same time. Anywho, as always, please  tell me about any grammar mistakes so I can fix them, and comment if I should keep this one going. See ya in the next chapter!       

         Anywhoo,
                     Toodaloo,
                                ~ZM