A strangled, uncontrollable screech involuntarily escapes me. I hear my friends call my name as I get dragged away.
I close my eyes and grit my teeth against the pain. How come my hair isn't just tearing out already? It felt like my scalp was bleeding, like it was on fire.
I feel my body getting slammed into a wall, making my eyes shoot wide open.
"Ow! Stop!" I scream, scared. It was weird. I tried to move. I tried to fight back. But I was frozen. I didn't even register the fact that I was speaking. It was like I was in a bubble, and the world around me was a haze.
There it is. The odd cackly laugh that makes my skin crawl. A sound that some would call a laugh. A sound that I call agony.
"I'll never stop Vallerie. Never."
I try to back away, the odd grin on his face terrifying, and growing bigger by the second.
"You can't get away. No one can get away."
"What do you want from me?" I whisper hoarsely. My throat already hurt from the screaming, and I was shaking. It was all I could do not to cry.
The look on his face and the next words said made my entire body go instantaneously cold.
"You're going to help me. Help me kill them. Find them. Kill them."
The way he phrased his sentences could make anyone's skin crawl and heart pound, cliché as it is.
"No I'm not..." I say, flinching at the thought of how he might respond.
"Yes you are!" His voice became ten times louder and deeper, his facial expression impossible to describe. It was pure fury. And pure crazy. Just imagine it.
I involuntarily start to shake harder.
"So are you going to help me?" The worker asks, in a sickly sweet voice. So much different than ten seconds before. The attitude change made him seem so much scarier. It was like dealing with a lion. Any second, they could snap. And then, what would I be?
I'm about to say no. I'd rather have myself die than to help him hurt my best friends.
I open my mouth to speak, when I feel something, as if it was controlling me. As if I was being possessed.
Before I could assess the situation and figure out what was happening, I hear my own voice saying "Yes," about three octaves lower than normal.
I mentally smack myself, and try to gain control, but it's as if I'm stuck inside someone else's body. And I can't get out.
The look on his face says it all. He was somehow controlling me. How the hell did this happen?
'I never should've came here. I should've gone to the museum with a bunch of losers,' I think to myself, before wanting to smack myself for stereotyping them as "losers."
An amused grin lights up the workers face, as if he knows exactly what's going through my mind...which now that the thought has occurred to me is quite predictable.
I keep trying to say I won't. I won't help him. But I can't.
Then completely against my will and without know what I'm doing, I am standing up.
I try to get my feet to move, so I can run. But it's like how people say they have dreams they're being chased, and they are frozen. That's the closest I can get to explaining it, even though I guess it really isn't all that alike.
"So, Vallerie. Here's what you're going to do."
Internally I'm arguing that the only thing I'm doing is getting the hell out of here, but he's somehow controlling me still. I could barely think for myself. And I was starting to get so tired.
"I don't want to have to spend the night chasing them. I could, but it'll be most fun at the end when we get to kill them. So you're going to lure them here. And if you do it willingly, I'll let you leave. This control thing is exhausting me."
Halfway through his 'speech' his voice changes again, this time to one of a child. It was starting to freak me out. It was like he was a shapeshifter, like in those science fiction novels I used to read, except only his voice was changing.
Then I collapse to the ground. Common sense told me that he released his mental grip on me.
I stand back up and back away, with a major headache. I felt like there was a little man inside my head, banging with a shovel to get it.
"I can't! I won't!" The worker guy...thing...obviously caught on to that I wouldn't help him get my friends.