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Call a dog and they come, call
a cat and they take a message
and get back to you later.
Oldwrench, chat 13th Apr


Firefox 3
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Chapter 1: Lost Within My Mind

‘I went to bed yesterday, like any other normal night. And when I woke up, everything seemed normal. Then I left my room and problems began. I was attacked by a zombie of sorts. At first I wanted to run, but my instinct made me attack it and kill it, it fell on the floor and incinerated’ I read the note over and over again, as if it will make what happens easier to grasp, easier to understand.

I must be losing my mind, zombies don't exist and this place is not my room. I look around the familiar walls, the familiar closet, the familiar desk next to it, the familiar junk everywhere, the familiar chair, the familiar bed, the familiar cabinet next to it. Everything is so familiar, yet it seems like something's off, as if it is not my room at all, but a duplicate.

I let myself fall backwards onto the bed and rest my head on the pillow. Now if I just close my eyes, I will fall asleep again and this dream will dissipate. The dream will shatter and I'll be back in reality. I close my eyes.

The sudden sound of my cellphone ringing startles me. I stare at the ringing monstrosity on my desk. It frightens me. No one is here, I checked my parent's room, it wasn't even there. I opened the door and there was nothing, a pit of nothingness, if you can speak of such a thing. The street was the same, it was ridden with corpses, faceless beings without a name or identity, shadows of what they once might have been.

My train of thoughts stops as I realise that I have walked over to the desk and I am now standing there, looking down at the ringing cell-phone. The number displayed is 0800-999666. This must be some kind of sick joke, such a number does not exist.

Unvoluntarily my hand reaches for the phone and picks it up, my thumb pressing the answer button out of it's own accord, my arm raises itself, as if controlled by someone else and brings the cellphone close to my ear.

"Hello" I manage to stutter, after just listening for a while, fearing what is on the other side of the line.

"Hello" a voice at the other side of the line stutters in response.

"Who is this?" I yell in return, slightly aggrevated by the response.

"Who is... " the voice replies, then stops.

"I am you, you are me. Welcome to my world, or should I say your world" another voice then continues, it sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.

"What do you mean? You're me."

"Click" the line is dead.

Baffled I take the phone and look at the display, batteries are dead.

Suddenly I realise that I am still in my PJ's and something inside me tells to get dressed. I open the closet and I am surprised at what I find, nothing of this is mine. Nothing of this is familiar.

The closet is filled with straight-jackets of sorts, most of them torn and smothered in bloodstains. I stare in amazement at the assortment of sizes and colours of the jackets, some are small enough to fit babies and some seem too large to be worn by a human. Reluctantly I take the one that seems my size and put it on, surprisingly it is neither torn, nor stained.

The straight-jacket seemed exactly my size and even the sleeves were prepared for uncommon use, there were no straps and there were holes to put your hands through. For some reason I felt I should take the cell-phone with me, which I realised when I stood at the door. Reluctantly I turned around again and walked towards the desk.

On it, on the same place I had put it down, was the cell-phone. The black monstrosity seemed to follow me around with virtual eyes, even though its batteries were dead. I slowly reach for the black thing on the desk and just as my hand touches the outline of the black plastic, it rings... again. I pull back my hand quickly.

"This is insane" I say to myself "the... the batteries were dead, I saw so with my own eyes."

Terrified I stare at the impossibly ringing monstrosity on the desk, as sweat seems to pour from me at every side.

"This isn't right, this isn't supposed to happen" I say again as I slowly shake my head, not taking my eyes of the phone.

Suddenly, the squeaking of a door opening behind me, suddenly the sound cuts through my every bone. I turn around as quick as I can, my head spinning from the tremendous force it is suddenly exposed to. In front of me, there it was, a small child. A small child dressed in a raggy, old nightgown, an old-fashioned, light-blue nightgown.

Again I shake my head: "this can't be... this is impossible. No one is here anymore, no one is supposed to be here."

The small child hides its face behind long, golden-blond hairs. Suddenly it looks up at me, the hairs fall from it's face, only to reveal that it has no face at all.

Even more cold sweat pours from my body as I stumble backwards towards the desk. Maniacally laughing the child follows. I trip over the junk on my floor and fall onto the ground. The child catches up and sits on top of my chest. Even though she is just a small child, she seems to weigh a ton and I can hardly breath with her on top of me.

Fright gets a hold of me, as it brings its face close to mine and suddenly it splits in two vertically at the bottom. What it reveals is a horrifying array of teeth and a split tongue, slithering in and out.

Instinct takes a hold of me again and I grab the thing nearest to me. Which happens to be a pen. I stab at the thing mindlessly with the pen and hit it in the neck, it screams a high-pitched scream as blood gushes out of the wound.

The blood evaporates as soon as it hits my straight-jacket, leaving just enough time to stain it. The girl seems to crackle up and falls apart, like ashes blown away by wind. The pen falls to the ground, bouncing, blood still clinging to it. I breath heavily as I erect myself on my elbows, to look at the black dust that spread throughout my room... or what should be my room.

The phone kept ringing, still. It had been ringing all this time, most likely. Whoever was on the other end of the line, wasn't about to give up. I crambled up, wiping the black ash off my straight-jacket. Then I turned around and stared at the phone, such a bother it was, such a horror it was. I stared at the black monstrosity once again, not daring to pick it up.

After a few minutes, my arm seemed to move out of its own accord towards the phone. It picked it up, pressed the answer button and held it close to my ear. Static at the other end of the line. Suddenly the static vanished and I listened again, as more sweat poured from me.

"He... hello" I stuttered after some time.

"It's me again."

"Why do you keep calling me? Where am I? What was that?"

"I keep calling you, because you want me to. You are in my world, I already told you. And that, my friend, was not a what, but a who. Do you remember young Lisa?"

"Ye.. yes" I stutter as my mind searches for the young girl and tries to seek a connection between her and the thing that attacked.

"That was her. You killed her, you're a murderer… she only wanted to play, you know" the voice said, after which it laughed.

"N... no. That can't be."

"Click" the line was dead again.

In fright I stared at the display again, just in time to see it become vague and disappear, the sign that my batteries were dead.

I slowly shake my head and mutter: "no... this isn't real. I have to get out of here. I have to find a way out."

I throw the phone back on the desk and speed out of my room, down the flight of stairs, towards the door to the living room and open it. I almost fall into a stream of boiling hot lava as I do so. I manage to regain my balance and stumble back. The door as if it has a mind of its own, closes again and seems to laugh at me as it squeeks.

Again I shake my head, while sitting on the floor of the hall.

"What's going on? This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real" I repeat to myself, like a mantra, hoping it will make the dream dissipate and bring me back to reality.

I manage to gather all of my bravery and stand up, my knees seem to protest and become weak, like jello they quiver and I have difficulty standing up. I walk up to the door again, breath in deep, close my eyes, open it and...

And nothing really, the lava was gone and I was looking at our own familiar living room, but like my room, something seemed off.

"This is insane... I'm going mad" I mutter to myself, trying to find an explanation.

Night had settled around the house, the stars sent their cold light into the living room.

I walk around the living room as my stomach starts to growl. Or at least I think it does. I rub my belly and turn around to head into the kitchen, but instead of staring into the kitchen, I'm meeting the cold gaze of a growling, rotting dog.

In fright I back away, the dog following my every move as it continues to growl and spread it's foul stench of death. Suddenly a phone rings to the right of me.

I whip my head around and there lies the cell-phone again, my eyes widen. I had been certain that I threw it on the desk.

As if the dog had been waiting for such a sign, it leaped at me and just in time I whip my head around again, the dog jumping onto my chest, I fall backwards due to the impact and with an outstretched hand against the thing's throat I manage to keep its clapping jaws, but centimeters from my face.

The hand on the dog's throat feels a collar, a really familiar collar, but I just can't place it. Suddenly the dog's shoulders begin to bubble, as if they're boiling and large spikes rip through the rotting flesh, spewing forth a cloud of foul stench as it does so. Its claws too, begin to bubble and spikes grow forth from it as well, shredding the straight-jacket and drawing blood from my skin.

I scream out in pain as the dog begins to scratch my arms and blood trickles down from every slash it makes. As a last resort I gather all my strength and throw the dog off of me. It yelps as it smashes onto the ground and slides into the wall, its spike breaking against the hard concrete.

Both me and the dog crawl back up and it shakes its head. After that it growls once again and directs its full attention to me again. Then it takes a sprint towards me and lunges itself into the air. Somehow I realise what I have to do and grab the nearest, large object, a chair and smash it into the side of the dog, sending splinters flying through the air, along with the dog. Which once again yelps and smashes into the wall. The spike it had lost before reunites with the dog, by piercing its chest and sending forth a fountain of blood, that, like that of the girl, evaporates as it hits the ground. The dog bubbles and sizzles as puffs of smoke arise and it explodes in a flurry of rotting flesh and stench. Now covered in both smoking remains of the rotting dog and my own blood I stand alone again in the living room.

I stand panting, holding the scratches on my arm. The phone still rang, it lay there on the table, ringing, calling me, luring me in. I gave in to it's call and picked it up. Then with the last bit of defiance left in me I threw it out the window, the shattered glass landed on the floor and the phone stopped ringing as it smashed onto the street outside.

Suddenly the TV turned itself on. It showed static, nothing more than static. The buzzing that accompanied grew louder every single moment the TV was on, until it become unbearable and made my ears pop.

Then... it stopped, the static blurred, started to swirl, becoming a spiral, a never-ending spiral. Suddenly it began to spin the other way and it changed colors. It unblurred again and a gameshow was on.

"Now lets see how long tonight's contestant can survive the Pit of Hellhounds" the presenter said as the camera turned to show a young girl, tied up, slowly being lowered on a chain. Lowered into a pit filled with dogs, much like the one that just attacked me.

The girl squirmed and screamed, even though she was gagged, frantically she tried to escape imminent death, but to no avail, as she was lowered out of sight of the camera. Her screams echoed through the room as the camera turned back to the presenter, untill they suddenly stopped as the sound of ripping clothes replaced it.

"5.6 seconds that is not at all bad" the presenter continued as if nothing was wrong "that deserves a round of applause, don't you think?"

The camera shifted to the audience as the sound of applause emerged. Clearly it had been recorded, seeing as the audience consisted of corpses, faceless, dead. There heads hanging in inhuman ways.

Then the image blurred again, reverted back to static and started to swirl once more. Then as I suddenly realised that I stood in front of it, as if my legs had lead me there, a hand reached out and grabbed my neck. In a desperate attempt to shake it off so as to not be strangled, I staggered back. The hand that came out, was attached to an arm that followed it, as I staggered further back I realised that I was dragging out a person from the TV. I staggered back further and further, untill the entire body had been dragged out.

The hand's grip weakened and it dropped from my throat, lifeless. As I stood there, trying to catch my breath again, I stared at the bloodied, lifeless body in front of me. It was dressed in torn clothes and missed pieces here and there. My eyes grew wide in both amazement and fear as I realised it was the girl that had been fed to the dogs.

In a desperate attempt to make all the pain and fear go away I turned around, ran up the flight of stairs and sat in my room, on my bed in the corner. My knees pulled up, my chin resting on them and my arms wrapped around them. Softly I cried, this couldn't be true, all of this had to be a dream... an illusion... but it was not real, it couldn't be.

My sense of time seemed to loosen, I couldn't remember how long I'd been in my room, but the stars were still out. My eyes were red from the tears and the stress. My hands were still trembling, but I knew I couldn't stay here. This place was unsafe.

Slowly I dragged myself to the edge of my bed and tried to stand. My knees seemed to be made of jello again and I fell on my hands and knees. I softly started panting and I sniffed one last time.

I sat on my knees and lifted one of my feet to get up, resting my right elbow on my right-knee and balancing myself against the wall I finally managed to get up. I held my head with my right hand, the fingers over my face, suddenly I feel the need to laugh. I still balance myself against the wall as I throw my head in my neck and start to laugh like a madman.

With effort I manage to stop, I finally found out. It was so deceptively simple, the straight-jacket confirms it. I'm going mad and if I'm not going mad then I am so already. I snicker and again start laughing, this time I bent forward, holding my stomach. The laughing is starting to hurt me.

Suddenly a shadow is cast over me as tears roll down my face again, this time of laughter. I look up, follow the faded, torn jeans and meet the gaze of someone staring down at me angrily.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" the person asks me.

"Going mad" I reply, after which I fall back into laughter.

"You're not going mad... you are mad" the man says and picks me up by my shoulder "now get back to your room."

He drags me along bright white hallways. Then he suddenly stops and opens a door. With some effort he throws me into the room, a padded room... Walls, floor, ceiling, everything completely covered in matrasses.

I roll over the floor, unable to move my arms anymore. So it was true, I was mad after all, nothing of it was real, all just a twisted dream, all just a sick illusion formed by a mad mind.

I rolled over the floor, the cushions on it denting with every movement of mine. The straight-jacket seems strangely suffocating and I find myself unable to breath. In a desperate attempt to free my throat I try to free my arms with erratic movements, tugging the sleeves, biting at them. Anything to get loose. Anything to breath again, suddenly the sleeves give way and I gasp for air, sucking it in loads at a time. The sweet smell fills my nostrils. Quickly followed by the stench of burning flesh, burning flesh and charcoaled bones.

The sudden change in smells makes me nauseos and I hurl. The bitter after-taste remains in my mouth and I get up. My throat feels like it's on fire, because I was on an empty stomach and suddenly I realise that I AM indeed rather hungry.

Suddenly the slide in the door opens, with the sound of metal scraping over metal. Someone throws in some bread and closes the slide again.

Like a wolf I jump onto my prey and greedily stuff all of it in my mouth, faster than I can chew or swallow. The bread is stale and hard as a rock, but it tastes like a king's meal.

After finishing it, I sit with my back against the wall and rest my head against it.

How did it get to this? I don't remember ever being here before... then again if I'm here I would have to be insane, thus it wouldn't be strange if I didn't remember. Hell I could be having this paranoid conversation with myself every single day for all that matters.

Suddenly a drop lands on my head, instinctively my hand reaches for the wet part and I look at the sticky solution that comes from it. It's red... crimson red and syrupy. Baffled I look at the ceiling and see how suddenly a crack appears in it, sending liters and liters of blood through it, slowly nibbling off more of the ceiling, until at some point there is a hole a meter in diameter.

The blood-level in the room rises as the matrasses stop absorbing most of the liquid, helplessly I bang my fists against the iron door constantly, my hands become bruised and slowly my skin tears apart, adding my own blood to the fluid in the room.

Desperately I scream for help, no one seems to hear me, or they just don't care.

The blood-level keeps on rising and it softly brushes my chin at this point, helplessly I float around in the syrupy, crimson-red liquid, hoping not to drown. Suddenly I bump the back of my head onto something hard and to my surprise I realise that by now I'm drifting closer to the ceiling than I want to be.

In one last desperate attempt I cry out for someone to help me, blood seaps into my mouth and slowly rises within my nostrils as well.

To my own astonishment I see another figure floating around in the red liquid and it swims towards me, the blackish blur on the reddish background moves closer and closer. I exhale unvoluntarily one last time and I cough, sending bubbles through the red liquid, slowly the world seems to go darker and darker and I realise that I'm passing out, just before I drift off into unconsciousness, I feel two arms pulling me away, upwards.


Suddenly I feel hands pressing onto my chest heavily and repeatedly, I cough up blood, judging from my wet cheeks it is not the first stream of the reddish fluid that comes out of my mouth and I slowly open my eyes, I squint to the bright light and close them again.

Then I feel a mouth pressed onto mine, blowing in more air, in a desperate attempt to shake off whoever is trying to blow me up I push my upper-body off the ground, with my elbows.

Someone yelps and as I open my eyes, I see the figure of a person, its head lying on my lap, its legs next to me.

I shake some of the wet, red hair out of my face and send red drops flying throughout the concrete room, the empty concrete room, except for the door and the chair in the corner. I look down and see the face of a youg girl, her blonde hair, slightly red-coloured due to the liquid and some red drops on her pale cheek. She looks at me rather shocked.

I realise I must've made a real bad impression, drifting there helpless in the blood and now sitting there, dripping wet.

Silently I wipe my face with one of the sleeves of the straight-jacket and find to my surprise that my sleeves are gone.

"I took them off" she says as she sits up and wipes some hair out of her face with her hand. She's a rather pretty girl actually and not the kind that you'd expect in such a place.

"Ex... Excuse me?" I say as her remark fails to penetrate my brain.

"Your sleeves" she says, pointing at my bare arms "I took them off, they got caught behind debris, so I ripped them off."

"Bad stitching job they did then" I reply dryly.

"Uhm have you seen anyone else alive in this place?" I continue.

"No, I was actually rather surprised finding you here... alive. Everyone else I found was either dead or mutated" she replied, she sighed. Her eyes seemed to fill up with tears.

I embrace her and force her against me, like a small child she clings to the straight-jacket as she begins to cry.

"It's okay, it's okay, we'll find a way out of here" I say comforting her and stroking her hair with my hand, a hand full of small cuts and bruises, my blood mixing with the fine layer of blood upon her hair.

"It's okay... it's okay. I'll promise you we'll get out of here" I tell the girl in a reassuring voice, trying to comfort here. With a last sob she looks up at me, with teary eyes.

"Now tell me... what's your name?" I ask her with a smile, looking down at her.

"Galina" she replies, her voice trembles.

"Galina, huh? That's a pretty name."

"So... so what's yours?"

"Michael... my name's Michael."

Suddenly loud thumps resound through the room, as if something is trying to bash in the iron door from the other side. Cracks and bumps appear as the door budges in.

Galina scowers off to the corner furthest away from the door.

"They're coming... they're coming for me... I've been bad and they've come to punish me" she mumbles, shielding her head with her arms, expecting a blow any time.

I can't let her get hurt, she saved my life I'm gonna have to save hers then.

I raise to my feet and take a battle stance, it's been a long time since I’ve put my karate to any use, so this is as good a time as any to brush up my skills.

With a loud crash the door budges one last time and slams onto the ground, spewing a cloud of dust my way.

But to my surprise... nothing follows in the path of the dust-cloud, in fact there is nothing behind the pitch-black hole where the door used to be. Carefully I shuffle towards the darkness, when suddenly a sound behind me alarms me. I spin myself around, just in time to see Galina rise, just as surprised as me.

I shuffle towards the darkness further, a large block seems to blocking my throat and it's hard to swallow.

"Be careful" Galina says, sending me into the air.

"Damn man.. take it easy, she's just talking to you, nothing bad... she's just talking" I mutter under my breath as I try to catch it again.

Meanwhile I've arrived at the hole. I pop my head inside it and my knees seem to be knocked from under me.

This can't be true... there's... there's nothing there. In fact this is our kitchen. This isn't right, this can't be right, something's wrong. There has to be something here, what else could have destroyed a massive steel door?

On my knees I catch my breath and try to calm myself, my hand raises itself to my face and I place my hand over it. Take it easy, breath in... breath out. Nothing wrong after all, what happened here is insane, unreal, illogical. It could very well have been that nothing at all destroyed the door, but it collapsed due to the weight of the walls... yeah that's it the floor above must've come down and the weight of that was too much for the door and it buckled and got wrecked, that's it. It must be.

I remove my hand from my face, still not sure what the hell I'm talking about myself.

Something black catches my gaze, something in the corner of my eye speeding away, to my right. My eyes trace the path it must've taken, but there's nothing there.

"Shit... there's something here after all" I say to myself through my teeth.

"What did you say?" Galina suddenly says as she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"There's something here... something bad, get out of here" I yell at her while whipping my head around.

Something black appears in my line of sight behind and above her. The same black thing, a black blur. I get up and push her away, the thing crashes into the ground and scowers off, too fast for me to trace.

"Shit... this isn't good" I say again through my teeth.

"What... what was that?" Galina asked scared.

"I don't care... but it's hostile."

Suddenly I get an idea... if this is our kitchen then there are bound to be knives, knives can be used as weaponry. I open the drawer that should have the knives and stagger back, resting myself on the wall on the other side. In the drawer was the cell phone, staring at me in all of it's black grandure. Suddenly the thing began ringing.

Galina walked towards this, I tried to stop her, but it was too late she answered it.

"It's for you" she says, while handing me the phone.

I take it and hold it to my ear.


Ater some time the familiar voice at the other end replies: "I didn't do anything, you probably walked onto it's path. But if I were you I'd look behind me right now."

I whip my head around, but there's nothing there, just the wall. In all my rage I slam my fist into the wall, as the voice at the other end starts laughing wildly.

"Hahaha... Gotcha... Hahaha" the voice says as he tries to speak.

In anger I throw the phone into the wall, smashing it.

"Who... who was that?" Galina asks, frightened by my outburst.

"I don't care... he's some asshole that got me here."

I return to the drawer and pick the single knife in there, it's rather big. A big chef's knife. I grasp it into my hand tightly, looking for the black blur again.

Nowhere... the black blur was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere, every corner of the kitchen seemed desolate as my eyes scanned it for anything out of the ordinary. Galina was still behind me, still standing there, she was safe there... or so I thought, until I heard her scream.

A big black blob sat on her face, in a desperate attempt to get rid of it, she grabbed what seemed to be legs and threw the thing off. It scowered off into a dark corner, leaving behind a small trail of smoking blood.

"Are you okay?" I ask concerned.

"My eyes... they're burning..." Galina said as she feverishly rubbed her eyes, her cheek had two small wounds, well too small to be called wounds really, more like the wound left behind by a needle.

Slowly her hands turned red and along her cheek ran a crimson tear.

"It burns... it hurts... MAKE IT STOP" she screamed as she started clawing at her eyes. In an attempt to make her stop I grabbed her wrists, but the damage had been done, large scratches ran across her eyelids and in the vicinity of her eyes.

Suddenly she coughed and spat some blood on my clothes.

"No... this can't be true... what the hell did that thing do to you?" I ask, as tears swell up in my eyes.

She coughed some more and suddenly she collapsed, she lay there, remains of the crimson tears still on her cheeks, shimmering in the faint light. Her blond hair, still covered with the blood, lay under her head, as if it was trying to flee away from her... no more like she shone, a reddish-golden shine.

It took me some time to realise that she was dead, lifeless, a corpse...

Anger got a hold of me and I tracked the trail of small drops of blood to the corner, there huddled in the furthest reaches of the corner sat a spider, as big as Galina's head had been, her head with her pretty face, her sea-blue eyes.

I grabbed the spider by it's abdomen and held it in front of my face, it hissed at me and tried to sink it fangs anywhere it could reach. With a swift movement of the blade I cut them off and threw the blade away.

The creature send out a screech of pain and torment and a grin crept on my face. I let my head hang slightly and my eyesockets and hair shadowed my eyes.

Very slowly I gripped one of the things eight legs and turned it around slowly, ever so slowly, the thing kept screeching in pain, untill at long last the furry, black, soft flesh gave way and the leg dropped to the floor. Blood dripped from the fresh wound and began to evaporate alongside the leg that lay on the floor. The leg smoked... seemed to be boiling and turned into a puff of smoke.

My hand searched and found another heavily squirming leg and repeated the actions, twist, rip, drop... twist, rip, drop... twist, rip, drop.

After all the legs had been removed the creature was weak of bloodloss and I threw it in the sink.

This kitchen was bound to have matches... I would give this foul creature a cleansing it would never forget. I'd wash it with flames and burn away all of its sins, because it was incapable of doing so itself.

This amused me so, that I started laughing. I placed the tips of my bloodied fingers on my forehead and rest the rest of my hand on the tip of my nose.

"Pitiful... the spider... Galina... the dog... PITIFUL... they are weak, succumbing to something even weaker than them... succumbing to Death. I shall be Death's executive and cleanse this world of the weak... of ALL the weak" I said in between the laughing.

I forgot about the matches and picked up the knife again. I gently ran the tip of the knife along the spider's abdomen, until it reached the center. Slowly I applied pressure, slowly cracking the shell... slowly, ever so slowly. It would have to suffer before giving in to Death.

At long last the blade drew blood as it penetrated the soft flesh underneath the carapace and with a single thrust I pinned the squirming spider on the blade.

Then I tilted the blade so that it cut to the back of the abdomen, clouds of smoke slowly rose up from the creature as more blood was drawn from it. The abdomen was now cut in half and I grabbed a half in each hand. Slowly I spread the parts... slowly ever so slowly, until the creature was torn in two... until the creature gave in to Death.

I threw away the two smoking halves and got ready to leave, leaving the blade behind. The kitchen had the door to the backyard... there was nothing that needed cleansing here anymore.

I laughed at the prospects of being able to finally cleanse this world. No... not this world... the voice had told me... it was MY world... yes... my world. I could hear him clearly now, he spoke to me, I didn't need that Cell Phone anymore... he was with me... always.


Puffs of smoke rose up on the camera, rose up from the blood stains all around the kitchen. From the spider's corpse, to Galina's body.

"Hmm... it seems we have reached the threshold" a voice commented, the owner's face was hidden in the shadows, except for the tv-screens reflecting on his glasses.

"Send in the men... I want him... alive" he said coldly," prefferably", he added after a moment.


Three men, rigurously dressed to conceal any part of their body, to add protection to their oh so fragile flesh, rushed through the concrete corridors, their steps resounding throughout the hallways.

"I hate this part... they're never the same... and whatever they did to do those things down there, they can also do to us..." Henry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" the squadron leader demanded.

"Nothing sir, nothing."

They stopped abruptly as they came across an intersection and turned to face a control panel, with a series of bleeps the steel security door accepted the code and opened up with a hiss and a rattle.

From the familiar steam and dust that arose when the secured area was opened suddenly a shadow lunged itself forward, landing on the guard that had just entered the code.

Relentlessly the back of his head was bashed onto the floor untill it lay in a puddle of blood, the helmet cracked and torn, much like the man's skull.

Slowly Henry backed away.

"What... what is that thing?" he screamed in horror, pointing at the man sitting on top of his fellow-guard... his former friend.

"Don't just stand there... attack, take him out" the squadron leader shouted as he was about to open fire.

A hand reached out and a clip was emptied into the ceiling, sending an avalanche of debris and dust downward, covering the fresh blood of the two dead guards and turning their blood-puddles into red mud.

Henry turned around abruptly and was about to run off, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around abruptly.

A maniacal face looked at him, covered in blood.

"I shall cleanse you... I shall cleanse you of your sins" he declared to Henry.

Then the man raised a fist and as Henry was about to mutter a suppressed ‘no’ and tears started to roll down his face, the fist came down, shattered the eyeshield of his helmet and first blood was drawn... first and last blood.

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