Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Sniper part 7

Alrighty!!! So after a really long reprise, here is the next part of Sniper!!! I finally finished it. Not the whole story, just the next part.
Thanks tons for bearing with me!!! I need a break sometimes. I will try and get some more up in the coming week. Hopefully soon I can end it, and move on to other things.
Here you go. You guys deserve it. :)

Anabelle’s dreams surged through her mind, sending her body into spasms.
She sat in the dark, warm blackness washing over her, and then cold. As though she had been sleeping on a winter day, and someone had suddenly pulled the blankets off. She pulled her knees to her chest, and then spread her arms and legs realizing that she was flying. She crashed into the steel floor of a hospital.
A child’s laugh echoed off the walls, plunging Anabelle into shivers. Her blue-tinged view of the place blurred the edges of her vision, causing her to use the wall as a hand-hold. When she felt something wet slip over her feet, she jumped and her eyes flew to her feet.
“Barefoot,” she said, “Why am I barefoot?” Blood oozed out from between her toes, and she picked up her foot, watching it drip to the floor. Movement in her peripheral vision pulled her head up again.
The laughter.
Anabelle saw a little girl poke her head around the corner, looking at her, giggle, and then duck back.
“Come back!” she yelled. Anabelle rushed down the hall, pressing her hand against the wall. As she rounded the corner, the little girl’s back was turned to Anabelle. Anabelle stepped slowly closer, and when she saw something drip from the girl’s fingers, Anabelle grabbed her hand and held it in front of her face. Blood. The girl flickered and suddenly was facing Anabelle.
“Drown.” she said, and Anabelle did. Water was at her feet all at once, and it swiftly rose, so that soon it was at her ankles. She turned to run, but the opening behind her had disappeared and now she stood in a room devoid of windows or doors. The girl in front of her was swept away and soon disappeared, her obsidian hair the last thing of her to go. Anabelle ducked under the water to find the source of the flow, and after moments of looking around, spotted a covered drain that seemed to be detaining the water. She swam deeper and deeper, never seeming to get any closer, and then finally when she reached it, she pulled the plug. It seemed for a miniscule amount of time that the water level was going down, but then, when she looked again at the drain, a black cloud emerged. She put her face closer and found that it was not black, but deep read. Bloodred. It seemed to follow her no matter where she was.
The water and the room vanished and was replaced again by darkness. She looked down at the platform that held her feet, and saw her reflection in the black glass, then it shattered, and she was falling again.
Anabelle’s head shot up, bringing momentum to the rest of her body toward the ceiling, wrenched short of their destination when her restraints objected.
“Good morning, Anabelle!”
Anabelle’s tears blurred her vision, but the voice was unmistakable. Blüd. As her sight cleared, she bit her lip in terror as he looked down at her, a cruel smile on his broken face, pushing his scar up higher on his face so that it twisted grotesquely, making her wince.
He ran a thumb down her jaw bone. She swallowed a shriek that rose inside her.
“So, here’s what’s happening, Anabelle. This-” he held up a syringe filled with a bright purple liquid. “Is my creation. It took me quite a while to make, you know.” he paced to the other side of her, looking intently into the glass. “Do you know what it does?”
Anabelle glared at him, and he continued his monologue.
“It’s a formula puts the human brain into a dream state that shows them all of their fears at once. Only, there’s another thing. We can see them, too. Right here, on this screen.” he tapped a computer terminal with his palm, letting it slide down the side of the screen.
Anabelle’s eyes grew wide as she realized what was going to happen.
Blüd grabbed her wrist, flipping it over painfully, and lowering the syringe toward her popping veins. She struggled, and Blüd backhanded her across the face. Anabelle licked her lip, and tasted iron. Blood. Marcus slammed her arm back down onto the examiner’s table, and drove the needle into her arm. She barely had enough time to scream before the dreams came.
Anabelle stood on the edge of a skyscraper, a fierce wind blasting strands of her hair into a whip that cut her face. She whimpered and backed up against a pillar that stood behind her. When she turned to look behind her, she was gripping Blüd’s jacket as a cruel snicker made it’s way from his parted lips.
Screaming, Anabelle backed away from him, tipping precariously over the edge. As she zoomed through the air, her locks of hair rushing above her, all she could see was Blüd’s smiling face, taunting her. When she hit the bottom, she expected to be crushed to death. No such luck.
Searing pain pressed itself into Ana’s skin. She screeched as it rushed into her skull. When she managed to open her eyes, a red fluid finding her eyes, She took in the scene in front of her.
Alex lay defenseless on a table, his arms and legs and head held down, rendering him exposed. Thick red blood collected on the dips of his skin. To Ana’s great shame and horror, she herself was holding the whip. A hand settled on her shoulder, and moments later, another.
She wheeled around to face them.
On her left, Blüd. Grinning wide enough for Christmas. On her right, A tall, handsome man with jet black hair to match her own. Cruel, scared blue eyes stared back at her when she turned to him.
The frown dropped from her face as she realized who was looking back at her.

His lips smiled down into her eyes. “Hello, daughter.”
Alex rushed across the beach. Where had James put the damn boat?!
Earlier, when he had heard Anabelle screaming, he had shot up from his seat, causing pain to flood to his wound and he fell to the ground. He heard a moan and pushed through the pain to get to the top of the ladder. When he finally escaped the dark hole, the scene hit him. A bowl lay shattered on the kitchen floor, a dagger on the ground in the hallway, so close to the door. If she had only run a bit further perhaps she would have escaped.
Alex brushed his fingers over the blade, hoping that somehow this blatantly obvious reality was just a rabid nightmare.
“James!” he remembered. He rushed down the hallways and through doors, finally collapsing in despair when he heard yet another groan, followed by a choked cough.
“James?! Speak to me! I don’t-” he winced at the sudden pain in his leg. “I don’t know where you are!”
“Alex?” a dim voice droned, “You there? I’m-” cough, cough, “In the north room. I can’t-” he yelled through his teeth, “I can’t move! They shot me below my kneecaps!”
Alex stumbled to the indicated location and let out a relieved breath when he saw his friend yet breathing. He knelt to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, and then opened them again to look at James.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. My legs are a little useless, but nothing a good swig of beer and some crutches wouldn’t fix.”
Alex nodded slowly, pondering their next move.
He slid his arm underneath James’ and helped him limp to a chair nearby. He handed James his case, and with a pat on the back, and the retrieval of several sanitary supplies, Alex began to walk out the door, grabbing a knife on the way out.
“Where are you going?”
Alex came back to stand in front of his friend. “I have to save her, James. I can’t say why, I just do.”
“Be safe, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Alex smiled and turned out of the door with a wave.
“I’m coming, Anabelle. Don’t worry. I’m coming.”