When You Say Kill...

Chapter 8: Apparition?

Chapter 8: Apparition?

When Nicole woke up, she heard two voices in the kitchen. Sam’s and another guy’s. She sprung up on the chair, wincing at the muscle she just pulled in her neck. A night on the couch will do that to you.  Both of them carried on as if she wasn’t there. Blondy had his back to her on the stool, wearing what she’d last seen him in: no top and hot pink boxer shorts. Sam almost looked like Nicole did last night, whizzing around the kitchen, and it was strange. She looked almost frantic. And for the stranger part, Blondy was watching Sam, eyes following everywhere she moved all while cautiously sipping a cup of tea.

Nicole cleared her throat, not to get attention, but because there was seriously something in it—or at least it felt like there was. She began coughing, rhythmically at first, and then more violently.

“Guys—“ she choked, slamming her hand on her chest a few times. “Help!” she choked again, this time unable to hold herself up any longer. She collapsed onto the floor and rolled onto her back. They couldn’t hear her so she tried more shouting, but it only brought on more coughs.

Don’t panic. It’ll pass. Something you swallowed just went down the wrong tube. You’ll cough it out in a minute.

But as more minutes of brutal coughing went by, she panicked. Her knees started to tremble and sweat dampened almost every part of her body. What was going on? Was it something she ate?

Her coughs had elevated now, and muscles around her stomach and back started to throb. She couldn’t even sit up...

Then.

Nothing.

It all stopped.

A silhouette emerged into her sight out of nowhere. In the day time? He was standing over her with a hand behind his back.

“Blake, good, you’re here. Could you help me up?”

He didn’t. He didn’t move, just watched her lying there. In his other hand was a sharp kitchen knife, the same one she’d hidden in her belt a few days back. The same one she’d planned to kill him with.

“Blake, what are you doing with that?”

He flicked the knife into a spin and let it drop point first and it landed right beside her head, only a slice of air between it and her flesh. He leaned over her, so close to her face. “I’m not Blake.” he'd whispered straight into her ear; she could feel the callousness lacing his tone. He’d picked up the knife again. This time it would land in her chest. He spun it once more, and let it drop...

“Blake! Blake! No!”

She flew out of the chair, almost tearing the house down with that scream. Sam appeared first, trampling down the stairs, almost tripping over.

“What! What’s wrong? What happened?” she swung her head left and right in a panic. “Whoa, Head rush.” Sam looked how Nicole felt, groggy, eyes droopy, hair sticking out all over the place, robe half on, one slipper covering her foot.

Nicole took a while to collect herself. That was a dream? But...it seemed so real. She looked around the floor for the knife, but couldn’t see it anywhere. And Blake wasn’t around. She sighed. “Nothing. It was a dream.”

“Jeez!” Sam sighed frustratingly, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it? Six a.m. I can’t go back to bed now. Thanks a lot.” she turned back around, took a step, and then paused. “Why were you sleeping on the couch?”

“Well, you two didn’t give me much of a choice.”

She twisted around. “Two of us?” Sam was bemused. “What—what are you talking about?” she questioned again, this time squinting.