cnwood

October 26, 2011

Sketch – The Nightmare

Filed under: Sketches — cnwood @ 10:09 am
Tags: , ,

The high pitched screams stabbed against the cold darkness. She ran from her hiding place in the shadows, breath bellowing loudly from aching lungs, her bare legs covered in blood and fighting to keep upright and running. If she fell again there would be no strength left to get up.

Pain radiated from the burning wounds about her body in hot, tormenting waves that pounded into her brain like the shrill screams that pierced her throbbing ears, over and over. Yet pain was the only thing keeping her conscious.

Alone with the terror that hunted her, she screamed again, tears blinding her eyes, the sweat soaked hair plastering about her face like thick ropes. The blistering blue energy swelled painfully from the center of hands gone numb, her feet tripping and stumbling in her rush to turn this way and that, willing the power inside her body to kill.

Torrents of scorching blue light cut through the darkness, the air heavy with the retching smell of burnt skin and hair.

Evil howled in agony, its roar shattering her eardrums and violently shaking the ground.

Her legs buckled, the breath driven from her lungs, her body seeming to take forever to reach the ground. The bolt of energy smashed into her chest, exploding her ribcage and heart in seconds. Blood gushed from every gaping wound and orifice, covering her in a shroud of dark, thick red.

“Dada,” she whimpered weakly . . .

“Ahhh,” Debra roared, lunging up from beneath the bedcovers, still clawing her way out of the nightmare. Heavy breaths stuttered loudly in the quiet bedroom as her body viciously trembled from shock and cold. Like a terrified child she rocked back and forth as hands clutched at the agony that burned in her chest. Autonomic healing was useless against the pain of dreams.

Rivulets of sweat glistened on pale, cold skin, her T-shirt and panties soaked through. Tears flowed unheeded from eyes squeezed tightly shut against anything more cognizant than the reassuring sound of her beating heart. Debra groaned as the intensity of the familiar nightmare eased.

Why now, goddammit, her mind raged. “What else can go wrong,” she mumbled, trying to push free of the soggy linen sheet and swing heavy legs over the side of the bed.

With the pain finally subsided, her breathing slowed and her mind cleared. Always about the killing power, she lamented, struggling to pull up memories of the handful of other times the nightmare has assaulted her senses. Eyes stared, watching the past roll through her mind, instinctively sensing the answer was right in front of her.

But she was too drained to concentrate and piece it all together. An omen, maybe. A warning that the killing power was evil and would end up destroying her and everyone she cared about.

Sighing loudly, Debra accepted there would be no more sleep this night, and stiffly padded off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

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