Note: All that you recognize is not mine. It belonges to J.M. Barrie. But you dont know that yet, because nobody is really reall mentioned in this chapter. Onward.
Flashes, that's all they are. Glimpses of childhood dreams and nightmares. They appear every night now, looming in the place between the conscious and unconscious. And these flashes never really leave. He's always there, waiting, watching. But it's that face that haunts the most. You can feel it as it seeks to destroy any hope that maybe this will all end in the morning.
Still, when darkness comes, he will always be there. That dark, looming figure with eyes that see through you, that can find you, that can obliterate you. These cold, cruel eyes can only be his, for no other has such horrid thoughts and intentions. When your eyes lock with his, your blood feels as though it has turned to ice, and your only thought is to run, to escape. However, his gaze freezes you. There is no hope. His lips then form into a senile smile meant for only you, only for your destruction. His eyes turn a fiery, flaming red, burning you now, and penetrating your skin with menacing, abnormal valor.
And then comes that strange, painful feeling in your abdomen. At first it's piercing, and then grows more dull as your nervous system goes into a mode of panic. You touch your stomach to make sure everything's all right, when you feel a warm, flowing substance, pumping through your sliced stomach. And there, in front of you, is his hook, gleaming with fresh, dark, crimson blood, your blood. His sinister lips mold into a vicious smile as he gases at your fear-stricken face. He laughs, he howls at his glory, and that laugh will carry forever in your mind. He looks down at you with his foreboding eyes and says, with the voice that freezes even the most courageous of hearts, "There's none to save you now, missy!" And you know then, that you are alone, and you are done for. There is no hope.
Questions? Comments? Editorial Remarks?
Flashes, that's all they are. Glimpses of childhood dreams and nightmares. They appear every night now, looming in the place between the conscious and unconscious. And these flashes never really leave. He's always there, waiting, watching. But it's that face that haunts the most. You can feel it as it seeks to destroy any hope that maybe this will all end in the morning.
Still, when darkness comes, he will always be there. That dark, looming figure with eyes that see through you, that can find you, that can obliterate you. These cold, cruel eyes can only be his, for no other has such horrid thoughts and intentions. When your eyes lock with his, your blood feels as though it has turned to ice, and your only thought is to run, to escape. However, his gaze freezes you. There is no hope. His lips then form into a senile smile meant for only you, only for your destruction. His eyes turn a fiery, flaming red, burning you now, and penetrating your skin with menacing, abnormal valor.
And then comes that strange, painful feeling in your abdomen. At first it's piercing, and then grows more dull as your nervous system goes into a mode of panic. You touch your stomach to make sure everything's all right, when you feel a warm, flowing substance, pumping through your sliced stomach. And there, in front of you, is his hook, gleaming with fresh, dark, crimson blood, your blood. His sinister lips mold into a vicious smile as he gases at your fear-stricken face. He laughs, he howls at his glory, and that laugh will carry forever in your mind. He looks down at you with his foreboding eyes and says, with the voice that freezes even the most courageous of hearts, "There's none to save you now, missy!" And you know then, that you are alone, and you are done for. There is no hope.
Questions? Comments? Editorial Remarks?