Mr. X and I

11- The Baying of The Hounds

We took a brisk walk to the edge of the boat barn and stopped at the door. Sam faces me quickly, smiles, then grabs either side of my face.

"No matter what happens, I just want you to know, I really do love you, a lot. I want to be with you forever and wake up to your beautiful face always." He pulls me in and kisses me. A wet, electric kiss, that would forevermore be encaptured in my memory. When he finally pulled away, we mustered the courage to enter the barn.

I didn't feel afraid, as much as I felt pain. I wasn't afraid to die, but it hurt me to have to do this. Which I wouldn't. We followed the wooden walkway towards the center of the barn. I heard a boat swoosh against the dock, and the boards creak. This was the true definition of terror. I spun around weary of my surroundings and felt Sam snatched from my hand.

"Sam?" I asked. "Sam, where are you?!" I was literally spinning in circles, frantically searching for Sam.

Suddenly I felt a hand grasp my throat and slam me backwards into the wooden floor. My eyes started to blur and my ears started ringing. The air was just being sucked from my lungs every time I tried to swallow more. I was literally choking on air. Out of fear I touched the back of my head where it had started getting warm. Before I could pull my hand away, I felt the warm sticky blood.

Through the haze of my conciseness, I heard Sam thrusting himself at another figure. I could only assume that it was George. I tried to sit up, but fell back in pain. I couldnt do anything to help. I watched helplessly as Sam and George wrestled each other for control. George used his murdering tactics and Sam used is weight to throw him around like a doll.

I tried to find something in the area that I could use to help Sam, but failed at it, because my hazy vision prevented me from doing so. I lay in pain, on my ear avoiding contact with the back of my head. George takes a lethal shot at Sam's abdomen, but missed, striking his rub cage. I heard Sam fall under his weight and I knew at that moment atleast 6 or 7 ribs were broken or fractured. Sam tried to stand holding onto his ribs in excruciating pain. I could feel his pain in short bursts, just from imagination, along with my own pain.

So I tried again to sit up, this time barely succeeding. I rested on the ball of my hand trying to clear my eyes from this haze, which felt permenant. I propped ny self up one last time before gradually sliding my knee out from underneath of my leg. Suddenly I heard another loud grunt, and a few cracks. I turned ny head slowly to see.

This time, George is in the pain chair. Sam had mustered enough stregnth to snap George's forearm. Through his long sleeve, black turtleneck, you could clearly see the bones poking through the skin, and potruding the sleeve. Sam was standing, guarding his ribs from further damage. I started to add two and two together and knew there was something in this boat barn that could help us. Boats. It was simple, fish pokers, anchors, anything would work.

I slid my other knee out from under myself, and started to rise, slowly. I could feel the blood rushing downward and out of my skull. I felt like vomiting. I tried to gain my balance before climbing aboard a boat, which are never steady. When I felt balanced enough to move, I took it a step at a time. There was no way that I'd make it to a boat fast enough. I looked up and noticed a giant shark tooth hanging from the rafters. Perfect. I stretched upward to grab the tooth, but I got dizzy and had to stop. Across from me Sam kept shooting out at George, but would still sheild his ribs.

I fought myself to grab that tooth. Even if it was the last thing I did. I stretched out one last time and my fingers grazed the top of the rope it was attached to, I yanked it down.

"Sam!" I yelled. He looked at me for a split second, and I tossee the tooth at him. He backed up quickly, then charged George again. He missed, as george knocked the tooth out if his hand. I quickly went to pick it up. Georged turned his attention to me. The bone in his arm grinding with the other bone as it moved in godawful directions. My level of sickness was quickly rising. He raced towards me and outstretched his hand. I stood still, just like in the dream. He continued to come at me ready to slam me on the ground again. But as he got close to my face, I raised my hand as fast as I could, and cut his cheek. He laughed, muttered the words 'That's sweet' under his breath, and charged me. My fear escaped its box, and I closed my eyes, expecting the worst. I shot my arms out and felt the warm, sticky liquid that ran down my arms.

I opened my eyes.
Then screamed.

Before I knew it, Sam came rushing over to comfort me. His hands held my face, but the back of my head hurt so bad, his gentle touch felt like 40mm needles. I pushed his hands away.

The world too.