From the heart of Darkness
Apr. 12th, 2017 01:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cosmictragedyThe force had been enough for the out of control vehicle to flip and slid, slamming harshly into the large cottonwood tree. The hissing had come from the air bag that had deployed from the driver's seat. There was a high pitched shriek that died abruptly as the creature pinned between the car and the tree went limp after clawing desperately trying to get free.
Maggie had to force her car door open before she could get out. Ignoring the gash on her forehead, she stumbled to get the door behind the driver's side open. With trembling hands she hurriedly unbuckled the young girl and pulled her out of the car. Lifting the child into her arms she limped away, looking to find a place to hide. She wouldn't have much time.
She chose the abandoned building to take cover. The door easily forced open as she made her way up the uneven steps. She didn't get far. She crossed into the room, barely any shadow hiding the growing cruel smile on the face she recognized. "I should have known it was you."
"Just give me the girl, Maggie." His voice sounded husky and irritated.
"You can't have her."
"I will have her. Even if I have to kill you to do it."
~~~~
The cold, moisture-laden air left her skin clammy and chilled her all the way to her bones. She supposed she was in shock.
So it must have been instinct rather than concern that prompted her to move, to pull herself forward despite the pain. The unevenness of the floor was both a help and a torture, proving finger holds even as it cruelly scraped her skin and gouged her body. She felt her fingernail tear but it didn't seem important. She just kept reaching out, one hand at a time. Hold onto something and pull forward no matter how much it hurts. It became automatic, mechanical. When her reaching fingers abruptly encountered thin air, it took her several minutes of fumbling exploration to realize she was atop of the stairs.
Just the thought of her aching body bumping down rough, probably uneven step after step made her shudder. She heard a thin sound of dread hardly louder than a whimper from her swollen lips. It was going to hurt like hell.
Somewhere near the bottom, her strength gave out, and she did slide down the last few steps in an agonizing rush that left her sprawled, limp and sobbing quietly, on the ancient tile floor that smelled like dirt, cooked cabbage, urine and blood. She might have slept for awhile or maybe lay unconscious, because her body refused to go on. But eventually the same instinct that had driven her this far insisted she begin moving again.
I have to. I have to.
Yes. You have to.
That was peculiar, that other, alien voice in her head. She thought about it, curling herself into a fetal position on her side even though the position was more painful. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
Listen to me, Kat. You have to keep moving. Someone will be passing by in just a few minutes. If you aren't outside by then, you won't be found until tomorrow. You have three broken ribs and a punctured lung. Tomorrow will be too late. Do you want to live?
Did she? She thought she did. Not that life would be the same as she'd had before. In fact, it probably wouldn't be much of a life at all. But dammit... she wanted it. She wanted to live long enough for something.
Kat turned painfully back onto her belly and began a methodical effort of inching forward once again. She thought she was making progress until she encountered a wall. Listening, she thought she could hear faint traffic sounds, a sign where the door might be.
Just a little further, Kat. There's the doorway. Feel it?
She felt the threshold under her sore fingers. Beyond it was broken concrete of a stoop or walkway. She prayed there weren't more steps.
Grimly she pulled herself across the threshold and out of the building. shivering as the full force of the cold wind cut into her. There was one more painful step down, then a walkway that seemed to be more rocks and gravel than concrete. It hurt like hell to pull herself across the jagged surface; the only saving grace was that it led her toward the street.
Before she could wonder who she was supposed to see her, she heard a male voice utter a shocked exclamation.
"Please... please help." Her own voice sounded different to her before another wave of unconsciousness took her as the man called for help. She didn't know he was startled to see the bright red smeared trail of blood that led back to the abandoned building.
The man remained on the phone, eventually cutting off the voice on the other side. "I don't know what happened. She's bruised and cut up. Bleeding-and naked. Maybe she was raped, I don't know. But something else also happened to her. She's -her eyes are gone. No, dammit, not injured. Gone. Somebody took her eyes."
Maggie had to force her car door open before she could get out. Ignoring the gash on her forehead, she stumbled to get the door behind the driver's side open. With trembling hands she hurriedly unbuckled the young girl and pulled her out of the car. Lifting the child into her arms she limped away, looking to find a place to hide. She wouldn't have much time.
She chose the abandoned building to take cover. The door easily forced open as she made her way up the uneven steps. She didn't get far. She crossed into the room, barely any shadow hiding the growing cruel smile on the face she recognized. "I should have known it was you."
"Just give me the girl, Maggie." His voice sounded husky and irritated.
"You can't have her."
"I will have her. Even if I have to kill you to do it."
~~~~
The cold, moisture-laden air left her skin clammy and chilled her all the way to her bones. She supposed she was in shock.
So it must have been instinct rather than concern that prompted her to move, to pull herself forward despite the pain. The unevenness of the floor was both a help and a torture, proving finger holds even as it cruelly scraped her skin and gouged her body. She felt her fingernail tear but it didn't seem important. She just kept reaching out, one hand at a time. Hold onto something and pull forward no matter how much it hurts. It became automatic, mechanical. When her reaching fingers abruptly encountered thin air, it took her several minutes of fumbling exploration to realize she was atop of the stairs.
Just the thought of her aching body bumping down rough, probably uneven step after step made her shudder. She heard a thin sound of dread hardly louder than a whimper from her swollen lips. It was going to hurt like hell.
Somewhere near the bottom, her strength gave out, and she did slide down the last few steps in an agonizing rush that left her sprawled, limp and sobbing quietly, on the ancient tile floor that smelled like dirt, cooked cabbage, urine and blood. She might have slept for awhile or maybe lay unconscious, because her body refused to go on. But eventually the same instinct that had driven her this far insisted she begin moving again.
I have to. I have to.
Yes. You have to.
That was peculiar, that other, alien voice in her head. She thought about it, curling herself into a fetal position on her side even though the position was more painful. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
Listen to me, Kat. You have to keep moving. Someone will be passing by in just a few minutes. If you aren't outside by then, you won't be found until tomorrow. You have three broken ribs and a punctured lung. Tomorrow will be too late. Do you want to live?
Did she? She thought she did. Not that life would be the same as she'd had before. In fact, it probably wouldn't be much of a life at all. But dammit... she wanted it. She wanted to live long enough for something.
Kat turned painfully back onto her belly and began a methodical effort of inching forward once again. She thought she was making progress until she encountered a wall. Listening, she thought she could hear faint traffic sounds, a sign where the door might be.
Just a little further, Kat. There's the doorway. Feel it?
She felt the threshold under her sore fingers. Beyond it was broken concrete of a stoop or walkway. She prayed there weren't more steps.
Grimly she pulled herself across the threshold and out of the building. shivering as the full force of the cold wind cut into her. There was one more painful step down, then a walkway that seemed to be more rocks and gravel than concrete. It hurt like hell to pull herself across the jagged surface; the only saving grace was that it led her toward the street.
Before she could wonder who she was supposed to see her, she heard a male voice utter a shocked exclamation.
"Please... please help." Her own voice sounded different to her before another wave of unconsciousness took her as the man called for help. She didn't know he was startled to see the bright red smeared trail of blood that led back to the abandoned building.
The man remained on the phone, eventually cutting off the voice on the other side. "I don't know what happened. She's bruised and cut up. Bleeding-and naked. Maybe she was raped, I don't know. But something else also happened to her. She's -her eyes are gone. No, dammit, not injured. Gone. Somebody took her eyes."
