Mortal Sin - Sin Book II

Chapter 16

Screaming.

Vomiting.

Blood.

Bone.

I was standing in the eye of a tornado. Dragged around in its whirlwind were what looked like body parts. I could see, I was sure, an eye, complete with optic nerve giving it the appearance of a vastly mutated sperm. Even though it was carried by the winds, it held my gaze until I was forced to look away.

It was staring me down. Accusing me.

An arm, fingers clenched in a fist and tendons flapping as if they, rather than the hand, were waving to me. The bone that would have happily joined with the shoulder was sticking out. A middle fingered salute to me.

Odd splatters danced across my face and, when I wiped them away, I could see the contents of someone's stomach were being spat at me.

The winds themselves, instead of being accompanied by a whooshing sound, were emitting something else entirely. It was as if the entire tornado was screaming at me. It was high pitched and piercing and constant. A voice that needed no breath to cry out.

I wanted to escape. I wanted to jump through. I couldn't. Looking down, hands had reached out through the dirt and were gripping my ankles so tightly I couldn't dislodge them, no matter how hard I pulled my legs.

And she was there. Beyond the typhoon. Her eyes were wide and fearful. She was shouting at me. No. To me.

I knew what it was she was saying. She was calling my name. She was trying to tell me who I was!

I strained to hear over the shrieking of the tornado, its volume increasing the harder I tried. It was stealing the words and shredding them, scattering the phrases before they could reach my ears, mixing them with the gore.

Something loomed behind her, huge and monstrous. I couldn't see, properly, what it was, but I could make out long teeth in its massive mouth. It was my turn to shout. My turn to gesture wildly. My turn for my calls to be stolen by the whirling winds.

I threw myself against the tornado, hoping the effort would take me through and shake off the hands that held my legs in place, unconcerned if it did the same to me as to whatever or whoever it had savaged. I was thrown back, bouncing, almost, against a solid wall. I tried again and again, with the same effect. Whatever I did was repelled. She continued to shout to me, oblivious to the beast and to my attempts.

The creature looked at me and I was sure it smiled. Finally, Jasmine realised something was behind her.

And the monster bent over.

And the monster bit down on her head.

And I heard the crunch of bones and the tearing of flesh and tendons and muscles.

The creature dissolved. Jasmine slumped down to her knees and fell forward. Then she disappeared too.

I looked down, thinking that there must be a way to prise open the hands that gripped me, but nothing held me in place.

The tornado began to speed up, the imprisoned body parts being shaken apart until they, also, were no more. The winds were wailing, perhaps at her demise but more likely at my own inadequacy. I'd let her die. I hadn't saved her. I'd just stood by instead of finding an escape and rescuing her.

The pitch of the shrieking changed, though the velocity of the winds continued to increase. It wasn't as sharp or as piercing. The howling eased to the point that I no longer felt I needed to cover my ears, something I had neglected to do up till that point. I could hear my own panting. It was ragged. Pained. Desperate.

I couldn't see the tornado anymore. It had accelerated so fast, my eyes barely saw the blur of its passing. I knew it was there, however. I could feel it preventing me going anywhere.

The sound's edge softened and then two things happened at once.

The winds ceased.

Their voice became a... voice.

Her voice.

"You need to know your name," she said, though she was nowhere to be seen. "You need to know who you are."

"Tell me!" I shouted.

I did need to know, though the knowledge terrified me.

"You are..."

I was sitting up in bed. Tears soaked both my cheeks and the front of my t-shirt. It was dark.

Someone was standing at the bedroom door and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the outline.

Barry.

He didn't say anything and simply stood watching me. I was too disoriented to ask him for help or to tell him to get out. Or get her. He nodded slowly, then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

I laid back and stared at the window, wishing sleep would take me away to lands where I had an identity and people knew, and like, who I was. Sleep had abandoned me that night, though. After an hour long five or ten minutes, I pushed back the duvet and stood.

I needed to get out. It was night. I'd stay close to the house. Not wander. I'd be fine. Others would be fine.

I crept down the stairs, not seeing but sure Barry was watching me go. I was surprised to find the front door unlocked and silently thanked either Barry or Jasmine for their neglect. It meant I didn't need to search for or jangle keys.

Outside, the air was fresh. It cleared my sinuses and head as if they'd been taken out and run under a tap before being slotted neatly back into place. I shivered a little in the lightly chilled air – more suited to a Shiraz, perhaps, than my bare arms – and looked out.

Beyond a medium, concreted front yard, populated at the edges by shrubs I had no hope of identifying in the dark or by daylight, was what looked to be a park.

Just what I needed.

I left the garden and crossed the road. Tall trees lined the edges of the park perimeter, with street lamps evenly spaced to illuminate both the road around and the pathways within. I could see a lake in the middle with swans drifting. I could see a children's play area with swings and a slide and an old fashioned roundabout.

I started to walk, keeping away from the better lit parts. There were enough trees to camouflage me should I need it. I didn't want to play. I wanted to walk. I wanted to lose myself to the light of the moon and ignore the man made lights.

And I did, for a time. I lost track of how long I'd been walking, but I'd passed the same tree at least three times. It was getting lighter. I needed to get back.

I looked around, suddenly aware I hadn't taken notice of the house's address or what it really looked like from the front. I berated my continuing stupidity. I sort of knew what the front garden looked like. As long as I didn't get caught for trespassing, I'd surely find it. Eventually.

I walked towards the nearest house, haste hurrying me along like a teacher at the end of playtime.

Then I tripped over something.

I sprawled out, face down, yelling. No-one answered, something for which I was relieved. I turned to look at the tree root or rubbish bin or whatever had caused me to fall.

I immediately wished I hadn't.

The body was slumped forwards, laying in what would have been a similar position to the one I had just found myself in.

Except, she didn't have her head.

I can't be sure, but I think I may have cried out.