literature

Forgetful Angel - Chapter 3 - The Bloody Dreams

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“Like men we’ll face the murderous cowardly pack,

Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!”

-If We Must Die: Claude McKay

 

Running. That’s all I could do – run.

            The sharp jagged rocks and old gnarly roots dug into my bare feet like barbs, which were probably bleeding right now, no doubt. The low hanging branches and sharp twigs caught on my hospital like gown and blood red hair; cutting into any exposed skin like razor blades. I didn’t care, I just kept running. Running through the pain, running till I could taste sweet freedom upon my tongue, running to where they couldn’t find me…running…

            A bloodcurdling howl from somewhere over my left shoulder left my blood frozen in my veins I fought the urge to look back and urged my sore legs to run faster. The sounds of blood thirsty hounds filled my ears. I didn’t dare look back for the fear of seeing them. The thick tree trunks began to gradually grow farther and farther apart. I saw a light filter through the sporadically placed trees. I was almost there, almost free, just a little more…

I never made it. I never even came close.

            A furry something landed on my back from nowhere. I stumbled, losing my balance and tumbled to the ground. With the wind knocked out of my burning lungs and head spinning from hitting the ground a little too hard, I fought. My left arm locked beneath the hounds jaw and my right hand keeping its putrid breath out of my face. Sharp caws dug into my shoulders and abdomen. I fought. That’s all I could do – fight.

            With my strength failing, I gave one last desperate kick to the mutt’s abdomen, it did nothing. My arm fortress finally collapsed and the hound’s sharp canines and putrid breath descended on me.

            I woke with a start. I felt something foreign ooze down my back, neck and stomach.  I touched the sticky substance, memorized at how beautifully it glistened in the soft moonlight slowly sneaking in through the window.

            “Angie? Are you all right?” I heard the question from under a mound of blankets on the bed across the room. I didn’t answer either because I thought I was still dreaming or I was still entranced by the metallic substance in the soft moonlight. The latter seems more likely.

            I heard the rustling of covers and the click of a light. As light flooded the room, I realized what the substance really was – blood. My own blood and I was covered in it. The simple beige comforter was splattered red, to the point that it looked like a mound of human flesh. My pale blue pajamas were ragged and torn, exposing my bleeding skin. Many of the cuts were deep enough to see bone, while some were barely there. “Angelliea! Oh my - what happened to you?” As the man came closer, I lashed out, most likely from instinct.

            I jumped out from under my fleshy covers and sent a hard right palm strike straight for the poor guy’s nose. He moved fast, blocking my attack with his forearm. His block suddenly turned into a grab, I tried to pull my arm out of his block. When I was finally successful, I was rewarded by losing my balance. I stumbled and fell, the back of my skull hitting one of the bed posts on the way down, sending me to a lovely, unwanted trip into darkness.

Hey y'all, sorry for not uploading! Have been really busy lately, hope y'all understand Sweating a little... 
Anyway, I hope you like the third installment of Forgetful Angel! I tried a little different style than I normally do. I would love some feedback! See y'all next story! :D (Big Grin) 
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