Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Broken Dreams Chapter Thirty-Nine

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                        Though stark and cold, they do hold a beauty of their own. :)





 
 

 
 

 
~ Chapter Thirty-Nine ~


Arianna’s fear disappeared in an instant. She snapped, “I can.”

More laughter. The figure standing over her spit out, “You people kill me with your religious bull-crap.”

Arianna struggled to sit up, but the figure pushed her back to the dirty mattress with the toe of one cruddy work boot.

“You won’t be getting up right now, or ever, come to think of it.”  The figure raised an arm and Arianna shrunk back.

“Please, no.”

More of the insane laughter. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“I don’t see it your way; I just don’t want to die.” Arianna was finally able to scoot until her back touched the cold, concrete wall.

“Where’s Adam?” It was a desperate attempt to distract, but she had to try something.

The voice sneered, “Adam’s gone forever.”

Arianna screeched, “You killed him?”

The figure laughed once more. “He isn’t dead, just disabled.”

Arianna raised her chin in a false-sense of bravery. “I want to talk to him.”

The figure lowered down beside her, resting long arms on elbows. Cold, lifeless eyes stared into her own, the deep evil trying to suck her in.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re never talking to him again. It’s over. No more moony-eyed faces. No more puppy dog stares. It’s time you got what you deserved.

A hard slap connected with her jaw, slamming her head against the cold concrete wall. Waves of pain filled her mind and she tried to concentrate on seeing the person crouching over her so she wouldn’t pass out.

“Why— are you,” Her voice cracked and waves of nausea overcame her. She vomited, the stream spewing all over the person before sliding down the side of the mattress and into the floor.

She tried to move, to get away. The look on his face was so terrifying…but she was immobile. She moaned, began whimpering.

“You…stupid…hag!” He screamed.

Arianna shook her head. Confusion swarmed around her brain. It was a man standing above her, but the voice was that of a woman. The movement of her head sent shards of pain radiating throughout her body. Dear God. It’s the only thing she could think to think. She thought it again. Dear God. Terror was so thick and real at that moment she couldn’t form anything else. She repeated it again. Dear God. Those two simple words seemed to calm her so she continued repeating them.

She was suddenly aware of a calm blanketing her mind. It was so peaceful she smiled.

This infuriated the ‘thing’ standing over top her, fists raised.

“Why are you smiling, you idiot?” It screeched.

The words popped out without her being aware she’d even thought them. “God loves me.”

“Psssht. That is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Let me take that false sense of calm away from you, you little twit. You’re going to die here today.”

Arianna shrugged. “If its God’s will.”

The person standing above her looked down, curiosity masking the hatred. It tilted its head, the empty blackness of its eyes staring, trying to invade Arianna’s very soul. The voice changed from feminine to deep male. “You will shut up.”

Fear zinged across Arianna’s nerve endings. She’d never seen such evil, or heard its voice.

She shook her head, despite the fear. “No. I know God is with me.”

A hand came out and slammed into her so hard she was lifted from her spot on the floor.

Arianna watched what was happening, as if it were someone else. She felt the immense pain as she hit the wall and slid down to lay on the floor. Warm blood flowed into her eyes and she wanted to rub it away, but couldn’t move her arm.

It was over her. She screamed in her mind, but no sound came out except, “God is the Lord.”

“No! Shut your mouth!” She was flying through the air again, this time hitting the door. Wood dug into her back as she slid down its rough surface.

In her mind, she kept thinking, Dear God, help me. If I’m to die, please make it quick.

She lost count of how many times she was picked up and thrown around the room like a ragdoll. That didn’t terrify her as much as the eyes on the monster who tormented her. It was liking looking into the eyes of hell, and she needed to avoid it.

Consciousness started to slip, and she prayed for it; Please protect me, Dear Lord.

Sometime later, she came to enough to hear voices, but couldn’t get to the edge of wakefulness. Her eyes slid shut. Nothingness was bliss.