Death's Bitter Embrace (#Wattys2015)

Chapter V: What Goes Around, Comes Around

I wake up surrounded by blackness, "am I dead? Is this what help looks like?" I ask myself in my mind, through the black I can just make out tiny little specifics of the room, I sit up and realise the room looks creepily familiar, "is this my room? Was it a dream?" I think to myself-but was so happy I almost screamed my thoughts aloud.

After I switch on the light-which did take me a while to find-I examine the room and soon come to a conclusion: it was my room. "Holy shit, it was a dream" my clothes are soaked with sweat much like I have been out in the rain for hours on end whilst running.

"That wasn't a dream, notice your right arm is still gone, and I, I am certainly not a dream, this also isn't your room, it's my fantasy-but also.. Your hell." The figure's voice plays in my head, I look down and see my right arm-well what's left of it anyway-I look around the room for the source of the figure's voice but it was nowhere to be found.

I hear a loud thump on the window, so I turn my head and what do I find, the figure standing out there, in the storm, smiling. I go to grab Raven but realise that she is in the Jeep, that's nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck, does this thing ever give up" I yell in my mind, searching for anything that could give me a chance.

"Did ya miss me Toby, well, did ya?" It asks in an unloving demonic tone breaking my level of concentration with ease. The figure produces a deafening, high pitch shrill in my ear-as if that was its battle cry-as it erupts from the floor-probably from hell-it lifts its hand to strike, yet again it starts to aprreciate its nails as if to show them off. Then, with a quick flick of her wrist appears five deep thick gashes now craven into my chest, not including the gash in my stomach the figure has opened up thrice now.

I cannot breath properly it must've punctured a lung-and if it did it's currently filling up with blood-but that's the least of my worries tight now. My skin is stained blood and gore, I reach to my left to grasp the 47. Magnum that sits on my left bed side table "oh thank god it's on the left, left is my weak arm but it will have to do" I think whilst blankly staring into the figure's burning white eyes. I normally use my Raven, whenever I get the chance, almost always dripping in blood and her fragrance-the stench of Death reeks on her, and I like it that way. Never the less the 47. Magnum is still there.

I bombard the figure with bullets, it both morphs around them and turns them to dust by touching them. "Fuck that didn't work at all" I complain to no one in particular.

"What goes around comes around Toby, you killed thousands, thousands and now, I am going to put and end to their suffering in silence, as for you, your pain won't be over until the fat lady sings." The figure roars like a devasting hurricane, its voice more distorted then ever before. More figures start to stalk out of the darkness, they look different-they still have their body and hair, normal texture, but they all have burning white eyes like the ringleader of them.

"I tended to your wound, Toby, I made you suffer and endure pain like the people you killed, you destroyed their lives and the lives of others around them." The lead figure said.

"Well have a good sleep tonight knowing that Toby's rain of terror is over" its voice echo's and cooees to all the other figures and their reaction-depressingly priceless, the the figures' sadistically cheer.

The leader of them, the original, begins to bring its nails-that were as sharp as knives and as thick as thieves-down into my stomach over and over again for countless minutes, sending wave after wave of agony coursing through my body. I start to convulse in pain-the figures' all laughing hysterically like a pack of hyenas. My vision starts to blur and go hazy, as I fall unconscious from the severe blood loss I think-"it was right, what goes around does come around."