Have you ever had a situation in your life frustrate you so much that you secretly wish evil on the people responsible? It is not really a good feeling, and the lack of control you have about it just seems to add to the problem. I must confess, it has affected myself and my family deeply.
Although I believe in Karma, and that you should never wish harm on anyone else, it has brought me to a place where I may have always known that I might arrive. Judge for yourself as I divulge the briefest part on my psyche on this, and a brief look into something that I know will envelope into the darkest part of what I wasn't sure I could write...Horror writing.
The Post
By : Dennis Stein
The fog in his mind
began to clear slowly as he shook himself awake, trying to regain the memory of
what was happening. He could not move very well, and the flat of the concrete
floor was cold against his dress shirt. As the rush of information flooded his
brain, he struggled against the plastic tie wraps which secured his wrists and
ankles. He hurt. A thin line of blood on the concrete below his face came into
his blurred view, his glasses missing. He tried to focus on the floor. He hadn’t
bled too much, but his head was swimming with the pain of a brutal assault. As
the haze lifted from his memory, he realized that he was in his own garage.
Only a few feet away, his BMW sat silently, a quiet spectator to his pain. The fluorescent
lights above gave a barely audible hum, their light reflecting off the pale
grey of the concrete floor.
The dust made him
cough suddenly, the light cloud rising from the floor, as he spat out fresh
stripes of dark red blood. His ribs hurt bad. It was from the kicking. Disembodied
thoughts floated in his mind as he attempted to roll on his side, despite the
pain. His vision continued to play tricks on him as he fought to move, knowing
that he was injured badly. He squinted his eyes, trying to focus on his
surroundings, wondering where she was. It was a ‘she’. He was positive about
that. His cheek stung as he laid his face on the floor, another injury she had
inflicted on him. As his memory came back, he thrashed about, sure that she was still in the garage somewhere. The pain stopped him, and he suddenly went limp, the dark cloud of his pain overwhelming him. He laid on his side, concentrating on his breathing. That was what the psychologist had told him again and again. Focus on something pleasant, and pay attention to some deep, cleansing breaths...He couldn't get past the coppery taste of the blood in his mouth and throat, it was more than a smell, more like an essence behind his swelled face.
A shadow fell over him suddenly, blocking the bright white light of the fluorescent tubes above, shocking his eyes into focus on what hovered above him. It was her. He sucked in a breath as she leaned down over his inert body, looking at him with predator's eyes. Black eyes filled with something he could not understand. He felt the goose flesh rise on his arms and the muscles tense in the back of his neck as he watched her lean in toward his face, her eyes filling his blurred vision. His heart pounded blood, and his ears beat with the flow. Every fibre in his body tensed as she leaned in closer, examining him. He heard something. the sound of metal. He craned his head sideways toward the sound, looking for its source. He squinted again, bringing the edge of the blade dragging along the dusty concrete into his view. It was an axe...
