Sniper Part 8

Part...8 I think of Sniper. I am getting into it again. Haha I am excited for the next scene. Can't wait to finally resolve everything. There will probably be only a couple more parts to Sniper. Then I will have to find something else to write. I can honestly say that I haven't had this much fun writing in a long time. Thanks to all of you who keep coming back for more. You make this worth the work. I may never publish a book, and I may never meet any of you, but if no one ever sees these, I know that you guys have. One-Thousand, Two-Hundred people have seen my stories, and that's enough for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Enjoy.

Part 8, Sniper

“I can’t see anything.” Panic splashed through Anabelle’s words. “I can’t see anything!” She screamed.

Torment pulsated through her body, drawing her howls further into the void that was her prison.

When her eyes opened, she saw only a blood-drenched version of reality.

Blood. Blüd. He was here. He was here and he was hurting them. Everyone. The screams. The screams.

Over and over Anabelle cried out Alex’s name, hoping he had escaped so he could save her again. Guilt poured into her like a waterfall. He had already saved her several times over; by no means was he obligated to do it again.

He had no reason to.

“No one is coming for you, my dear.” as if reading her mind, Blüd spoke the words that she was too afraid to put to thought herself.

He kept coming back. She couldn’t shake his voice from her head. Her words quaked when she spoke. “Let me die.” she rasped. Even speaking sent showers of pain cascading over her body.

Blüd laughed that terrifying laugh again.

“Please,” she whispered, “Please let me die.”

“Never.” The syringe was dripping again, hovering inside her pale skin, trickling liquid into her bloodstream, slowly draining her of her life blood.

She knew the dreams would come soon. She could see them in the corners of her eyes, the breath that shallowly emerged from her rising chest. She heard them in the rasp of her voice and in the creak of the door as it opened and closed.

Despite the panicked thoughts that streaked through her mind, one kept materializing. She had to escape. She had to live. When her mother had died, her father had drowned in drink. He never really came back up. She had to survive. Her death would be the end of her father. She couldn't leave him like that. Memories zipped through her mind: her father stumbling into the house after a night of drinking, her mother lying pale and dead on the bed that had once been white-now covered in red blood. And Alex.

She had to help him. She had to find Alex.

Anabelle wrenched her arms up and winced as she felt the old leather bite into her already-raw wrists.

Pain erupted from her throat in a scream. With everything she had, she threw her arms up and dug her nails into the restraints. A crack snapped through her ears and the pain grew into something worse than she had ever felt. She stumbled from the bed.

The lock turned. she struggled behind the door, gripping the wall to steady herself. The door opened, concealing her, and as the figure entered, she slammed the door. The man cried out as the structure slammed into his unprotected temple. Cradling his punctured skull, he turned on her.

Anabelle quickly swiveled out the exit, shutting the man in. He yelled incomprehensibly and banged on the metal separating them.

She spun around. Three choices. Left. Right. Forward. Where did she go now?

+

The boat rumbled underneath Alex’s pained feet, causing him to shift uncomfortably from side to side. His heard thrummed in his chest. Anabelle was close and he knew exactly where she was. Blüd Enterprise. The old building where all this started.

James had wanted to come, but his legs were getting worse, and there was no way he could have come with them without slowing them down. No, this was something he had to do alone. Unaided.

Water splashed up into his face. Alex sighed with pleasure as the drops cooled his fevered face. The air that rushed into him blew his face back from his eyes, giving him a heroic look that he didn’t feel.

An hour later, he arrived. Stepping onto the land, he gazed up at the once-glorious construct. Gloomy boards covered the shattered glass windows, nails protruding from the ends. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the rescue. He went over his plan: Get Anabelle, get Simon, get out.

Then, a scream shot through the air. His eyes flew open, and he jumped into action.

Sniper Part 3

I can't believe this! You guys, I reached 1,000 views today! I am so happy! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I finished part 3 of Sniper! It's kind of shorter than the other two, but I still did it! Haha

Part 3-Sniper

When she entered the main room of the little house, she saw Alex throwing some spices into a pot and smelling it every now and then. She watched him for a few minutes until her gaze made him aware that she was there.

“What-” she cleared her throat, “What do you want with me?”

He frowned confusedly at her, and tilted his head a little to the right.

She threw her arms open. “Well, I’ve been here for almost five days, you obviously want something. Why else would I still be here? I’m just using up your food and water.”

“Sit.” he said. She pulled a chair from the table behind her, and sat in it, crossing her arms over her chest. “Cut these.” he laid a cutting board in front of her with a knife, and a bundle of herbs.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but did as she was told. She began slicing them into thick pieces, and was about to put them into the pot when he stopped her.

“No, no, no, no, no! You have to cut them smaller!” He put his arms around her and grabbed her wrists, displaying how to cut them smaller. “You slice them closer together, so that they dissolve better when I boil them.”

She took the knife back, and began to cut them again, smaller this time. He observed her for a time, and then nodded, satisfied, and then went back to his own work. When she had finished, she slid them into the pot, and sat on the stool, looking around with nothing now to do.

“Is that our dinner?” she asked, her stomach rumbling a little.

“No. Poison. You just mix this…” He poured some purple liquid in, “And this, and then you sprinkle this in, and you have poison.” he said, so casually that she wondered if maybe he did have it for dinner.

She nodded once, and pursed her lips. A thought struck her. He wasn’t tying her up, or sedating her anymore. If she could find the door, she could leave if she wanted to. A crease formed on her forehead, and she got up.

Anabelle walked through the halls, finding her way into a bedroom, a study, and the shower that she had made use of earlier that day. Finally, she found a little room with a pair of boots, and a long coat, and a brown hat. When she walked the rest of the way through, she found a door. A screen door. She glanced through it and shoved open the door, hoping that her sight was deceiving her.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she turned back to find Alex, leaving the vast expanse of water behind her.

She was on an island.

+

“Ah, there you are. I was wondering where you got off to.” Alex said. He stood, hands stained purple, in the middle of the kitchen.

“Yeah, I was…” she paused, “just...clearing my head. I think I’m going to rest for a while. I...have a headache.”

Alex frowned and took her upper arm. “Come.” he led her to her bed, and helped her lay down. He made sure she was comfortable, and then returned to his work.

She smothered her sobs with the woolen blanket, and soon was asleep.

+

Anabelle ran from...something. She didn’t know what, but she knew there was something behind her. She looked behind her at the black tunnel and tripped. Her knees stung as they struck the floor, and something wet and warm sprayed onto her face. She lifted her hands to her face and her eyes widened. Blood.

A sharp pain roared up her spine, and she arched her back. Screams echoed in her ears. Her hands found her mouth, and she found that her own vocal cords released the sound.

“It’s okay, Anabelle, it’s okay,” a voice whispered, “I have you, it’s okay.”

+

Anabelle awoke, screaming with sweat dripping down her face, and arms. Alex stood next to her bed, holding her tightly against his chest. “It’s okay, Anabelle. It’s okay. Shhhh. It’s okay.” She gasped her sobs away, gripping the edge of the bed as she tried to erase the memory of her dream.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all know how much your support means to me! Thanks tons. :)

Have a blessed weekend. :)

Sniper Part 2

Hey, everyone!

So I got a bit more work done on the story last night when I decided to be a loner and go to dinner along. :) I find that I work better when there is a little noise in the background, and when I can write it all on paper-or, in this case, a napkin. I wrote a ton! I completely filled the napkin. That was the only reason I stopped.

On another topic, I have seen some new activity on the blog!!! Welcome one and all! Thanks so much for reading! Ask any other viewers. I love my followers. ;)

So here's the next part of the story! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!!! (Which was a ton, by the way) ;)

Part 2, Sniper

Anabelle awoke, the ringing pain again enveloping her, threatening to drag her back down into the recesses of its warm blackness. She did not attempt to sit up, remembering the results of the previous morning.

“Who are you?” She could see the man walking around the room and look up when she addressed him.

“You can call me Alex.”

She noted his soft purr of a voice and hated it instantly. Her eyes darted back to the ceiling and closed.

“What’s yours?”

They shot back open. She bit her lower lip. “Anabelle. Why did you take me here? Where are we?”

He turned back to his tasks without a reply. He came to her bedside moments later, with a syringe. She struggled to move away, but the pain roared back into her skull and she gave up. He pressed it gently into the bend of her arm, and she heard his now-distant voice whisper,

“This will help you sleep. Goodnight...Anabelle.”

+

“You have got to stop doing that to me!” Anabelle said outrageously when she awoke the next morning.

“It was necessary for you to rest. Now that you are awake, would you like something to eat?”

Anabelle frowned and sat up a little, the pain having mellowed to a throb. “What time is it?”

“Eleven AM. The shooting was four days ago.” Alex set a plate in her lap. She glanced down at it with a sigh. Bread and...bread…

“Really? This is what you call breakfast?”

“No,” he said, turning, “That’s your breakfast. Anything more than that and your body will reject it.”

She glared at him. “What do you know about my body?”

“Plenty!” he retorted. Then blushed and looked at the floor. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“That’s crap.” She said. She looked away and felt the plate lift from her lap. Momentarily, another took its place. A heavenly smell wafted into her nose.

Bacon, eggs and a slice of hot bread smothered in melted butter with a glass of warm milk.

A bite went down. Two. Four.

“Be careful. Don’t eat too fast.”

Anabelle looked up to see him observing her while eating his own breakfast. She scooped more in. After a couple more bites, her stomach protested. Her now-repulsive-looking breakfast spilled over her front. Alex was at her side in moments, collecting it in a bucket, one hand on her back, the other bracing the bucket. Once her spasms had resolved, her eyelids fell shut and she looked up into his face.

“You can say ‘I told you so’ now.”

He looked back at her as he wiped her forehead with a warm cloth. “I don’t believe in unnecessary spite.”

She rolled her eyes. He moved away and washed his hands. She cringed. They would both smell like puke now, she thought with remorse. He caught her eyes on him and nodded his head at her.

She breathed heavily once and lifted her eyebrows. “Any chance I could get a shower? Maybe I could wash my dress, too. I’d rather not smell like throw-up for however long I’m here.”

Alex helped her off the cot and let her to a room with wooden panels on the floor and a wooden spout gushing water that flowed from the wall.

Throw your clothes out when you are in. I’ll wash them while you are busy. Soap is on the ledge on the wall.” He left.

Anabelle let loose a deep breath and combed her fingers through her scraggly hair. She lifted her dress up and over her head and once unclothed, tossed her garments out the door, and stepped under the spout. A steaming torrent of hot water burned over her body, causing her to smile with pleasure, then gasped when it washed the dried blood from her wounds, turning the water to a clear red. She glanced down at her side. Ten neat stitches lined her hip. Crusted red still stuck, so she rubbed her fingers with soap and, biting her tongue, dug her fingers into the wound, scrubbing it thoroughly with soap. She cried out, and her eyes smarted, but finally it was done. She sat down on the wooden panels, letting the water flow over her skin and wash away the grime and sweat.

+

An hour later, she emerged, the room full of steam. She wiped the vapor from a shard of broken mirror. Her hair was tangled, and her face was pale. Red scratches lined her arms and legs. Tears began to fall down her face. A sob emerged. She jumped when someone knocked on the door.

“Anabelle? Are you alright?”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m washed. Where are my clothes?”

A pause. “They aren’t quite dry. I’m putting some clothes through the door.”

Anabelle stepped back behind the door while he laid them on the counter, then shut the door behind him. She looked through the clothes. A man’s shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans. So he had girls jeans (why-ever that may be) but he didn’t have a shirt? She sighed again. She seemed to have been doing that a lot lately. It was a long time before she put the clothes on and walked out.



Thanks so much for reading! I had a great time writing this, so I hope you all liked it!!!

Now that that's done, I haven't gotten any emails about the challenge I issued a bit ago!! What's up with that??? Haha I hope none of you *gasp* forgot to do it! Oh dear. Haha well, if you have not seen my post about the challenge, I posted it on October 25, and I wanted all of you to walk up to strangers on the sidewalk on your way to school, work etc. and start a conversation. Please email, comment, chat me! I would love to hear from you.

Now, sadly I have to end the post here. My cat is pleading for attention. :)

Have a great week! I hope to add more tomorrow, maybe. :)

Blessings.