Glen

Chapter 14

I vaguely remember, I think, waking in my hospital bed. The world around me seemed like it was in slow motion, vapor trails following all its inhabitants. I remember, perhaps, writing my dream down, my thoughts.

I felt like I was suspended on a cloud, a weightless aberration drifting like a feather in some illusion of reality. Someone spoke to me; I'm unsure who. They were familiar, yet, a total stranger, all at one.

Strange sound buzzed my ears and made my head ache. The world outside my immediate field of vision were blurs of beige, white, and seafoam. Weird shapes babbled incoherently on the TV.

Someone else spoke to me and I felt warm and safe. I replied but couldn't tell you what was said. I caught myself wondering which part was a dream and which was reality? Or were they both? I laughed, softly, and drifted away, again.

When I opened my eyes again, I was laying on my back in a stagnant bog. The frosty air bit at my nakedness. I lay in the slop and shivered, erupting weakly into tears.

Something slithered in the swamp off to my left and snapped me back to focus. I lay perfectly still, listening for the sound, again. The sound came, again, but from behind me. I dared not move, at least not too quickly.

I tried to roll over, cautiously, but the mud clung on my back, locking me in place. It would take more effort, energy, and speed than I wanted to us. I tilted my head back, looking for the origin of the noise, and found yet another pair of eyes watching me.

These were different than the first and glowed only as much as a cat's might reflecting a flashlight. It had been inching closer but froze when I looked at it. I was almost starting to miss the other denizens of this shithole. That were in my face about it, at least.

The eyes canted with the tilting motion of the unseen head. This one seemed more curious than violent, but this place was deceptive. I did my absolute best to roll fluidly onto my stomach, so I never lost sight of my mysterious sentinel. I did not do well.

By the time I had rolled over, it was close enough to make out a shape in the darkness. It was a large, hulking mass, shaped similarly to a tiger or a massive Comodo dragon. It may have been even larger, pressed into the bog, hiding its true magnitude.

I inched backwards, always watching it, the muck sucked at my stomach, threatening to swallow mw whole. Still I waded, being tugged and devoured, pleading with God that I would make it to some firm ground. Muck and who knows what else rushed up my nose.

The creature pursued, keeping safely away. I couldn't help but wonder why they kept their distance if I was looking at them. A mystery for another time.

At last, my legs hit terra firma. I scrambled backwards on to the bank. I crawled backwards as quickly as I could, digging ruts into the ground until the creature was out of sight.

When I got my bearings, I realized I was back on the road. I turned myself and started crawling as fast as my arms could pull me, in continuous fear that the swamp creature may be following. I was positive I heard a slithering sound, but I refused to look back.

On and on, I dragged my body, as useless as a corpse, down the filthy road, still soak through by the gore storm. I was so covered with filth, I wasn't even sure if I was clothed, anymore.

The wind ripped at my back and the road ripped at my belly. The dull burn of my sore, chapped skin was almost too much to handle. I was sure I heard the slithering, now.

Can't stop.

I cried out.

Can't stop.

I dug deeper into the mush, pleading to the sky for speed. It was getting closer.

Can't stop.

Was it laughing at me?

Can't stop.

God, just let this end!

Please stop!

Something hard and heavy landed on my back, pushing all that was left of the air from my lungs. Sickening popping sounds rose from my spine. Flowers of pain bloomed before my eyes.

Enormous claws wrapped around my skull, yanking at my fragile neck, determined to separate them. The skin at my shoulders screamed with white-hot fury as it stretched. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water.

The claws pulled harder and my flesh separated, slowly. It was like a light-bulb over unhatched eggs going out. Everything around me was dark and cold. I was cognizant just long enough to feel my skull crunch under large, serrated teeth.

I opened my eyes and I was back in the hospital, the sensation of floating had vanished. I lay like a brick of lead under the complaining halogen lights. A hissing oxygen tank hovered over me.

If you had told me it was possible to be numb and be in excruciating agony, I would have called you a liar and yet, here I was. Nothing felt real, but the hurting and I was so tired of hurting. Jack Kevorkian was a saint.

Dr. Cody sat nearby, reading. I really needed to write in my journal, but didn't have the strength, myself.

"Doc," I rasped.

He jolted to attention. "Glen! You're awake! How are you feeling?"

"Let fresh, warmed-over death, Doc," my lips were so dry. "Can you write what I tell you in my journal, please?"

Cody picked up the dream journal and documented my dictation. As he wrote, he was pale and his lips were pursed. The clarity of my nightmare seemed to be an issue for him, as a psychologist and overall sceptic. When I finished, he stared at me, wall-eyed.

"This...is what you've been dreaming?"

"I hope I'm just dreaming."

"Me, too," I heard him mumble. "Anyway, Glen. You really need to rest."

"I can't," I whispered. My voice broke and trembled like a frightened child.

Something broke in him. "I, uh...I'm going to go get some coffee."

He bumped into Dr. Vaidya on his way out of the room. Both doctors looked grave. I was no genius, in my opinion, but it didn't take one to tell I was a dead man.

I pondered the situation and all I had experienced both here and in the other reality. I had come to terms with the fact that the other world was the fate that awaited me when I finally died. I wondered if everything I had experienced and would experience there was reminiscent of what all of my victims felt.

I looked out the doorway and the world had taken on its psychedelic blur trails. Everything had slowed down, again. I could feel the end coming and it kinda sucked.

Dr. Cody came back in, looking concerned. I smiled, weakly.

"I think if I slip away, now, I ain't coming back, Doc."

"Don't say that!" He cried.

His voice warbled like I was hearing him under water. Fish bowl.

"It's true," I said, hushed, "I need to tell you..."

My vision blurred and my words trailed away.

"Glen? Glen?! Stay with me!"

"You sound...so far...away," I muttered. "I need to tell..."

"C'mon, Glen! Stay with me, please! Tell me what? Where you buried Scotty?"

He sounded frantic from the other side of the cosmos. He was speaking total nonsense. When his gibberish finally reached me, the words processed in my molasses brain and I scrunched up my face with the amount of effort it took to formulate thought.

"Doc...Who said anything about 'buried'?"