By Don Mureness III
I walk into the room wondering
how I arrived there. . Everything
felt so surreal yet completely real at the same time.
The darkness was almost blinding except for a small spec of light in the
center. There the light fell upon
something pure white. I could smell
it even before I approached the light, a bittersweet smell of rose and blood.
As I approached I could hear my
footsteps echoing off the walls and they sounded as if I was walking on wet
stone, but I dared not look down to see what exactly what the wetness was.
The room was cold and damp against my skin as I leaned down and picked up
the item under the light. As I did I felt a thorn puncture my finger causing me
to let out a small yelp of pain. Even
that small sound seemed loud in the silent room, making me feel even more
frightened.
The blood smell seemed to get
even stronger as my finger bled lightly. I
sucked on the wound and found myself enjoying the taste. A taste so sweet my
head started to spin. This scared me
to the point that I quickly pulled my finger out and once again reached down for
the small flower. Being careful not
to repeat my earlier mistake and gently lifting it.
As I brought it closer to my
face I could smell its sweet scent even more, its soft petals gently brushing
the tops of my fingers, and its bright white of it making my eyes sting in the
darkness. No sooner do I lose myself
in these strong senses do I hear a scraping sound along the outer rim of the
room. For some reason the sound
reminded me of claws scraping stone.
The flower then started to feel
different for some reason. As I looked back I noticed its petals started turning
black and were withering. It turned
in on itself and started to turn to ash in my hands.
Fear rose as it vanished, as if never there, by turning to ash.
I heard growling behind me deep
in the throat of…something. I
couldn’t tell what the beast was but I spun around and found myself staring
into to eye glowing red. The menacing glare from this beast took away any sound
I thought of making from the terror. They eyes were moving closer and closer to
me, their fiery gaze paralyzing me. I
could barely make out the pure size of the beast, its vast size poised, ready to
strike.
I awoke in a cold sweat, my breathing labored and a feeling of pain in my chest. I walked into the bathroom to wash my face and catch my breath, but as I turned on the light I realized my shirt was soaked. I put my hand to my chest and realized it was blood, blood caused by three very distinct claw marks on both shoulders.