Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Broken Dreams ~ Chapter Thirty-Eight

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http://diamondsinfiction.blogspot.com/2014/12/welcome-angela-strong-to-mine.html?spref=fb








 
 
~ Chapter Thirty-Eight ~


Fear for his wife filled him. The madman had her again. Dear Lord, please help me get her away from him, and for good.

He was being wheeled down a long, white hallway now. He asked several different policemen about Arianna’s whereabouts, but none responded.

Everything was passing by in a blur and his frustration built. Where was she?

A flurry of nurses surrounded him as he was wheeled into the exam room, and before he could protest, he had an IV with a morphine drip.

 

Adam sat on the overturned crate, arms wrapped around his waist. He rocked back and forth, the furious motion causing his head to spin.

She didn’t look good. Her skin was white as paper, and blood seeped from the corners of her mouth and one nostril.

“Take her to the hospital, idiot.”

Adam sat straight up, looking in every direction. No one was there. His heart thundered against sore ribs.

“Who said that?”

Laughter.

“You know, Adam.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Where are you?”

He got up and checked every nook and cranny of the bare room. It was only he and Arianna.

He flopped back to the crate and resumed rocking, this time grabbing both sides of his head by the hair. “Can’t think. Can’t think.”

Feminine laughter.

He raised his head to see if Arianna had awakened, but she was still out, lying crumpled on the edge of the filthy mattress.

He was aware of a loud wailing noise, but didn’t know where it was coming from until that feminine voice said, “Stop whining like a sissy, Adam. You’re supposed to be the strong one.”

His mouth clamped shut, and sure enough, the noise stopped.

“Who’s there?” He jumped up, overturning the crate, which he kicked so hard the plastic cracked as it smacked the wall.

“You know me, Adam. I’m the one.”

He shook his head in denial. No! It couldn’t be her. He wouldn’t allow it. No one ruled over him. Why, he’d…

“Adam.”

“No.”

“Oh yes, my boy.”

“No. I refuse. You can’t make me hurt her.”

Her words became angry now. “That’s the reason you took over, remember? You’re the heartless one.”

He shook his head again, sliding to the floor beside the very pale Arianna. He whispered, “Not when it comes to her.”

She snorted, “Hmmph.”

Something was happening inside him, and he was helpless to stop it. His fingers came up and stroked the bloody hair at Arianna’s temple. He tsked, rubbed it away from her face.

“I won’t hurt her and you can’t make me.”

Suddenly, he was pushed away from the unconscious young woman. “Then I’ll do it myself. I don’t know what your problem is, she’s just a girl. You’ve done away with countless others.”

Adam’s head snapped back from the force of the slap dealt him.

He dropped his arm between his legs and stared at his hand.

“I’m really messed up.”

There was wetness on his face and he brought that same hand up to wipe at it. He was crying. Anger seared through him.

“What have you done to me you callous hag?” He screamed.

At his words, Arianna groaned and began moving around.

He dropped to his knees beside her. “Ari?”

But nothing. She was still unconscious.

She was moving toward him again, her intent to slap him once more.

He reached up with one arm, grabbing the other. “No! You will not hit me again.”

A shouting match ensued.

 

Arianna groaned, opened her eyes.

The horror show she saw playing out before her was enough to make her eyelids drop once more, then pop back open.

She was there. Just like last time.

White hot terror immobilized her as those cold, dead eyes latched onto her own.

The figure stood over her, pure hatred emanating from every pore of the body. “Time to die, Missy.”

“No!” She held her hands above her head and began praying out loud.

“Dear Father, save me if it be Your will. If it’s not, give those who love me peace.”

Maniacal laughter filled the room.

“You little idiot. Who could love a God like that?”

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