Summer Reading List

PROLOGUE

"The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed... The world had moved on. Reality is like thin ice, and beneath it lies an abyss full of creatures that have no names, but plenty of teeth." 

— Stephen King, The Gunslinger

Starting a story? It's like trying to pick up scattered teeth with broken fingers.

Liam lay on the floor, drenched in blood. He looked up at me, dazed, trying to crawl away. I had lost all feeling in my limbs. My legs had turned into concrete pillars driven into the dirt, and my arms... it felt as if they'd been torn off. My tongue rolled an old copper coin around my mouth—a heavy, viscous taste that turned my saliva into glue. I collapsed onto my knees, exhausted, trying to smother the fire in my lungs. This wasn't even the worst thing that could have happened to me at twenty-four.

At twenty-four, your "fear quota" is usually filled by mundane things. Like the possibility of my ex finally finding me to finish what he started. Or my loving parents finally filing the paperwork to lock me in the psych ward so I'd stop ruining the family reputation.

I look down at my hands—cheap prosthetics covered in peeling paint. The blood had set firm, conquering every millimeter of skin right down to the nails.

I watched my fingers; they felt like heavy lead sinkers. It was as if my hands were still fighting. An attempt to clench my fist was met with a dry crack: the crimson crust split at the knuckles, exposing white strips of living skin.

The gym smelled of ozone and scorched flesh. In front of me sat a student who, just a few minutes ago, was turning into... what? That hairy monster from those B-movie teen flicks?

It's a mask, right? Exactly. Halloween is coming up. This whole town is just a sick prank. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them, I'd see orderlies. Seriously. Let it be the asylum. Because the reality where this is actually happening scares me a hell of a lot more than a lobotomy.