Story 23

Posted: November 23, 2015 in Uncategorized

This was a fun one. It takes place during book 3.

Nightmare

 

The darkness was what got Spencer’s attention, first and foremost. The darkness, accompanied by an uncomfortably damp feeling in the air. He could feel concrete beneath himself, but had no clue where he was. He’d been spending time with his brother in law, last he knew. And then they wound up here. Wherever “here” was, at any rate.

 

“Travis?” he called.

 

Silence.

 

That on its own made him uncomfortable.

 

“Trav?! You here?!”

 

He got no answer. Instead, he caught the smell of something in the air. A smell of rotting meat and death. And he was sure there was blood, as well. Large amounts of it, and it was relatively fresh.

 

Spencer rose shakily to his feet, his legs feeling as if they’d been unused for quite a while. Once standing upright, however, the room seemed to jerk violently. And what he knew to be the floor was now the ceiling and vice versa. Gravity slammed him to the new floor, but he felt surprisingly little pain.

 

But what in the hell was that?

 

Unsure if standing up would once again cause the room to turn upside down, he began to crawl along the floor to see if he could find some indication as to where he was, what was going on, and what had happened to his best friend.

 

The smell grew worse as he crawled, and he could hear a hissing noise. It grew steadily louder as he crawled along. Another thing he noticed as he crawled was that the floor seemed to be on a downward incline. It was a subtle one, but still noticeable.

 

He paused upon seeing a pair of golden eyes staring right at him. They’d come out of nowhere. And that hissing noise was with them. Something warm and damp slapped against Spencer’s neck.

 

“So delicate…” a voice whispered, seemingly from all directions.

 

The warm damp sensation was replaced with the unmistakable feeling of cold fingers with what felt like claws. The fingers squeezed at his neck (but still didn’t quite hurt).

 

“The hell…?” he asked, unsure how to take this whole thing.

 

The fingers tightened around his throat, making it harder to breathe. He reached up to pry them off of his neck, only to discover that his hands did not want to move for any reason. He tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

 

And then the feeling just…

 

Stopped.

 

The eyes disappeared.

 

But the temperature rose.

 

Spencer tried to continue crawling, relieved that he could pick his arms up now.

 

And then he felt the room spin, turning him in rapid circles, upside down, backwards…all directions.

 

He was flung onto his back, when he felt something clamp onto his leg. It was only his left leg, from the knee down. The more he tried to move it, the more the unknown force gripping his leg held.

 

Spencer pulled at it, or at least tried to see what was holding him. The best view he got was that of a skeletal hand. No, wait…there was some tissue still attached to it. And the hand was tiny, like that of a child.

 

“Why…?” asked a plaintive little voice. “Why did you let us die?”

 

That voice sent a shiver down his spine. He recognized it all too well… It was one of the two Knox children he’d encountered at Visions Studios. And what he saw of the skin and tissue attached to the skeletal hand seemed to have been burned. But it looked different than one caused by fire. Nothing charred, just red and open. A deep chemical burn.

 

“Y-you…you…you did this…” a faint female voice, accompanied by the roar of a fire.

 

It seemed to come from nearby, causing Spencer to look around. His eyes widened at the sight of a woman’s body. A woman’s body enveloped in flames, with little bits of dirty blonde hair still attached to the scalp.

 

“This…is your fault…”

 

Upon further inspection, he could see marks drawn on her body. They were at the neck, along the breast area, thighs, rump… It reminded Spencer of a chart a butcher might have around. The burning woman reached for him. He could nearly feel the flames against his skin, as he tried to dodge the hand.

 

A couple more voices chimed in.

 

“You could have done more, doctor… You could have done more!”

 

Another young girl, a boy, and an all too familiar woman.

 

Or as he was able to see them, illuminated by the glow of the flames from the burning woman: a pale corpse with a hole where the heart should be, more chemical burns, and the severely broken frame of a woman. Nothing was at the right angle on her, and there were obvious fractures in the arms and legs. The jaw was dislocated, as well.

 

And that smell of rotting meat, the smell of death, was with them all.

 

And just as suddenly as they’d all appeared, the dead vanished. And Spencer was alone again.

 

But the smell of death still lingered.

 

All was once again silent.

 

He began to crawl again, but had difficulty moving. His left leg wasn’t quite right. Like half of it was missing.

 

Spencer felt around his leg, not finding anything below the knee. Nothing save for a thick, viscous, slightly-sticky liquid. He brought his fingers to his nose to see if it was what he thought it would be.

 

Blood.

 

Before he could move much further, he heard that one sound that never failed to make his blood run cold.

 

Click.

 

Click.

 

Click.

 

“Hello there, 42. Having fun yet?”

 

“Jesse…please, leave me alone…” is what he would have said.

 

What he would have said had he not felt a few tiny pricks just above and below his lips. He tried to open his mouth to tell her off, but it wouldn’t cooperate. Reaching up to his face, he found that it had been stitched shut.

 

A bright light shone, nearly blinding him. And Jesse’s form was enveloped in the light. A hand on her hip, she held a knife in her other hand. A butterfly knife.

 

Probably Travis’ butterfly knife.

 

Spencer shook, trying to back away from her. But once again, he couldn’t move.

 

Jesse got down on one knee, gripping him by the hair. Her lips twisted into a smirk.

 

“You’re not trying to leave, are you?” she asked him. “There’s someone here that wants to see you…”

 

She reached into a pouch on her belt and fished out an eye.

 

Spencer stared at the green eye. He knew that particular shade of emerald. His breaths quickened, and he struggled against the invisible force holding him down.

 

“You let me die, Spencer…”

 

This time it was Travis’ voice.

 

“I thought you cared about me. And you let me die.”

 

Spencer whimpered softly. ‘I’m sorry…’ he thought.

 

“Fuck you, Spencer.”

 

Other parts of Travis’ body were revealed in the ever-growing light around Jesse. An arm here, legs scattered… His disembodied head was right there in front of him.

 

“I hate you…” the head told him, eyes (or what used to be eyes) narrowed.

 

Another whimper, which began to escalate to a full-blown scream.

 

“Spencer…”

 

He heard a soft voice, then. A soft, calming voice that he hoped was the Angel of Death, come to take him to the other side.

 

“Spencer, wake up…”

 

The whole scene shifted, and all he saw was darkness. The smell of death had disappeared entirely, and he still felt some sort of warmth, but this time it was…comforting.

 

He opened his eyes to see a concerned Gemmy crouching beside him.

 

“Is everything okay, Spence?” she asked. “I heard you scream…”

 

He hugged her tightly, breathing heavily.

 

“I-I’m fine,” he lied.

 

“Why do I doubt that?” his wife sighed. “Was it another nightmare about Jes- Her?”

 

A nod.

 

“Why don’t you come back to bed with me? Daniel’s finally asleep…”

 

“I’ll be okay here…”

 

He had been sleeping on the couch tonight, as he had for the past few nights. It was the same couch where Travis used to sleep night after night, before he was taken from them by Jesse. He had been missing for a month, and there were still no leads. No indication as to if he was even still alive, or if that bitch had managed to bypass his regenerative abilities.

 

It wasn’t the thought that he might be dead that got to Spencer. It was the sheer uncertainty of the whole thing.

 

Spencer sat up on the couch, reaching up to wipe away a few tears.

 

“…Is it my fault he’s gone?” he asked.

 

Gemmy sat beside him, putting a hand on his thigh.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I shouldn’t have let him go out alone that night. If I’d asked Beast to go with him, he might still be here.”

 

She hugged him again. rubbing his back.

 

“This isn’t your fault, Spencer. From what I’ve heard, she might have tried to hurt him, anyway. She doesn’t seem to have any limits as to who she harms. But please, don’t blame yourself. It would only make you sick, and Travis wouldn’t want that for you. I definitely don’t…”

 

He rested his head on her shoulder. “Think he’s going to be okay?”

 

“I think so, even if it takes years for him to come home, and even longer to re-acclimate to home. He’ll be okay, and we’ll be here for him.”
He managed a smile, right before moving to kiss her.

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