Queen J'írksna

18 5 25

[ji'ir̻kZn̪æ]

What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams

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What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.

Werner Herzog
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A strangled scream escaped from his partially opened mouth. The muscles on his jaw strained to keep his mouth open, but it was forcefully snapped shut. Teeth collided with each other, producing a loud clinking that vibrated within his temples.

Benjamin ...

Her voice rang softly in his mind. She wrapped an arm snuggly around his legs and firmly clasped a hand on his knee. The stress on his legs quickly dissipated. His lower half was secured, but his upper body was beginning to whip at an alarming rate.

Reach down and grab onto my hair.

"I can't!" He mumbled through clenched teeth.

YES. YOU. CAN.

His arms trembled as they grappled against the upwards pull. Pain shot from his back, shoulders and up through his biceps. Shoulder bones creaked and popped as their bones settled back into place, but were immediately yanked off their positions when he lost control.

"I can't do it! I can't!" He repeatedly mumbled.

Listen very carefully. If you don't, your pelvis can dislocate as you allow the rest of your body to be pulled away. You're starting to thrash. Soon you'll gain momentum and spin out of control, bashing the sides and back of your head on the walls. Your stomach will crash into the back of my head. Then you'll ballistically shoot away against the wall. You won't have time to react. GRAB ONTO MY HAIR NOW!

With all his strength, he attempted to lower his arms. Pain swelled in his abdomen, making him nauseous. Momentum was rapidly kicking in faster and faster. His hands inched downwards. Sweat droplets built on his face and hurled upwards. A circular motion was starting to take hold.

He noticed himself starting to go in a small concentric circles that were subtly expanding as he fought to lower his arms. The tips of her hairs swiped rapidly under his hands, almost within reach. One last burst of energy allowed him to go three inches further. His fingers vigorously gripped at her hair.

Each strand engaged its own battle against the force as they wrapped themselves around him. Once they latched on and over the gun, his hands were guided down to her shoulders. His fingers clawed at her jacket, twisting knots for him to cling to, while her hair tried to maintain him in place.

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