It was happening again. The darkness that had fogged her mind for so long had returned.
She wanted to believe that everything that was happening was just a nightmare from which she would open her eyes from to escape, but it was holding onto these bright images that was doing her the most damage.
Her forehead ached with the effort it was taking to hold her eyes shut for so long, the tears that had cascaded down her face were now dried and caked over her pale cheeks. Her calves were burning from the crouching position she had forced herself to adopt, and her arms were beginning to complain about being wrapped around her cold stiff torso for so long. Still she forced her body to stay locked in this uncomfortable position, for any foul move would be the end for her.
She could hear their boots squelching over the rain soaked ground as they paced in what she guessed to be agitated circles. Their low infrequent muttering did nothing for her nerves, though she couldn't pick up a single word they had uttered in the estimated hours since they had found her.
Occasionally one of them would trudge over to her, his ragged breathing setting him apart from the rest. He would grab a fistful of her hair and force her to face him, commanding her to open her eyes. Her refusal proved to be an annoyance and she had received several scalding slaps for her trouble.
The urge to move her now screaming limbs was becoming harder and harder to resist, but still she did. Moving wouldn't do her much good, for she was too stiff to run and they would shoot her instantly if she did. She couldn't help Annie if she was dead.
Her eyes had been closed for too long, she could not longer tell what time of day it was or even if it was indeed still light. She was sure that days hadn't gone by, but not sure enough to wager any kind of bet on it.
She could hear someone trudging over, but the absence of ragged breathing told her that it wasn't who she expected. The trudging stopped mere inches from her position, close enough for her to hear the stranger's heavy breathing.
A hand found purchase on her chin and lifted her face gently upwards, caressing her cheek as he did so. Sam immediately jerked away, causing him to make a disgruntled snort and grab her hair. She yelped loudly, and a smatter of laughter rang around the otherwise deserted space she found herself in.
She could feel it, the fear bubbling up in her stomach at the sound of her foe's laughter. It was eating away at her resolve as the urge to open her eyes and relieve her forehead of the pain that was emanating from it suddenly rushed to the forefront of her mind.
In a brief moment of madness she wondered if she would be able to see anything at all, maybe she had burst every blood vessel in her eye through the force she was using to keep her eyelids shut, and would release the pressure only to see the darkness that would shape the rest of her life.
The moment had passed as quickly as it came, for a distraction got in the way of her creating a whole new realm of hell to embroil her mind in. The distraction was the man currently dragging her across the floor by her hair.
The blinding pain as her hair was ripped from its roots didn't even come close to the pit of fear and despair that was threatening to erupt from her stomach, her mind now disobeying her and sending jerky pulses of energy to her eyes in a vain attempt to pry them open.
The skin on her arms was being scraped off by the rough ground, the pain form this travelling right over her chest and making it difficult to breathe. She was being dragged on one side more than the other, so thankfully when she came to a stop she was able to assess the damage to her now injured arm with her good one, ignoring the cramp emanating from her elbow as she did this.
Still refusing to open her eyes, she blocked out the snickering and jeering long enough to feel along the deep cuts embedded in a graze which ran the length of her arm, the pain making her eyes sting. Luckily very little or none of her hair felt as though it had been pulled out, but her scalp was now tender.
The men that she assumed must be nearby appeared to have spent the last couple of minutes watching her eyes move, for there were now hoots of laughter and one stamped his feet. Sam felt her face reddening, and tried to resume her previous position for it felt as though it was the closest thing that resembled normality in her current predicament.
She didn't get the chance. One slap led her to lose balance and fall to the ground, the other yet another stinging pain across her face. At this she let out a small whimper and tried to curl into a ball, but these attempts were also thwarted.
They had a vice-like grip around her ankles and wrists that made her think twice about struggling. It wouldn't matter if she did; she was too weak to put up any kind of resistance.
Suddenly a voice cut across the shouts of laughter, a voice which almost forced Sam's eyes open.
"Face me, Dr Nicholls." Said a man with a deep voice and a Californian accent.
Sam was tempted to do as he said, but at the same time she was terrified to. She knew that voice, and he knew she knew. If her fate wasn't sealed all those hours ago, it certainly was now. After a brief pause he spoke once again.
"I said open your eyes!" He snarled, placing his thumbs on her eyebrows and his forefingers just below her eyelids, prying her eyes open.
Sam was startled at first at how menacing he looked, the man she had once considered at the very least a friend. He smiled down at her the same way he always did, but this time she picked up on what she had always seemed to miss, the anger and hostility behind the smile.
She also looked around and finally figured out where she was as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was twilight in the middle of the car park where this whole nightmare had started. It appeared her soon to be killer had some taste for poetic justice… or lack thereof.
No words were exchanged. Everyone, including Sam, knew what was about to happen.
Sam spared one last look of pleading for the man staring down her at her, begging him to reconsider. He merely shook his head and maintained that dangerous smile of his before pointing the gun she had been unaware of up until now at her head.
A shot fired.
…
So I figured that putting the 'end' before the start was a tradition for this story….And of course having Sam possibly dying to boot.
Welcome to the sequel of Haunted. It's going to involve a lot of my own characters but you'll see some old favourites later on.
I won't be posting regularly for a while yet, but I wanted to give you guys a taste of what is to come… If you have any questions feel free to PM me.