Sorry for the delay in posting. Have been sick for a little while but now I'm back. Also I had suffered from a little bit of writer's block but hopefully that is now solved.
xxx
SURVIVAL – CHAPTER 3
Music…
An intense, loud and horrible scratching noise assaulted her ears from all sides and had been doing so for an impossible long time.
Colors…
A multitude of bright, nauseous eyesore rainbows danced across the walls, floor and the ceiling. It was mocking her, taunting her, daring her to defy the existence of the torture she was going through.
And…
Above everything else there were the screams, whimpers and fearful cries of unseen women being played over and over again.
Curled up, eyes shut closed with hands pressed against her ears she tried to block out the colors and sounds but without much luck. She had given up a long time ago trying to be heard over the racket surrounding her. It did not even help to make an attempt at ignoring the torture since somehow it still found ways to invade her very being, to tear at her self-control and to make her feel like she was loosing her very sanity. It was now only a matter of survival to her.
What was even worse was the fact that she knew he was behind it all. The man that she was supposed to call her brother was solely responsible for her current suffering and whatever else might follow in the future. From his last spoken words she now knew beyond a doubt that he has some sick, twisted so-called destiny planned for her.
It was something that she did not even wanted to begin thinking about.
"Jarod," she suddenly whispered a name. She had no idea why she was calling out to him of all people but somehow just speaking his name gave her the hope and strength to hold on, at least for a little while longer.
xxx
He woke up drenched in sweat. His heart was pumping at a frenzied pace, the pupils of eyes was wide in shock and the vein at the side of his neck was beating to the rhythm of the fear in his soul.
For a couple of minutes he just laid quietly in his bed, his gaze staring into nothingness with deep lines of worry forming across his forehead.
He knew that he had just been dreaming about her.
He knew that she had been calling out to him.
He knew…he knew…
The last threads of the dream was slowing dissipating and no matter how hard he tried he just could not remember the rest of it, except maybe for the lingering feeling of utter certainty that she was in danger and in need of his help.
Wiping a hand across his damp forehead he shivered slightly before turning on his side, switching on his beside lamp and reaching for the cellphone that he always kept close at hand.
For a moment he hesitated, wondering as to whether he was not just giving in to a child's fear of a simple nightmare, but after a while he could no longer resist the intense need to know that she was safe.
He was just about to press the speed dial number for her when he stopped his finger a mere inch away from the button. After all what would he say to her? She was more than likely to laugh at him, followed by uttering something sarcastic before putting the phone down in his ear if he was to voice open concern for her.
Then there was also the fact that she had not answered any of his earlier calls, surely an clear sign that she did not wish to be reached…or could it maybe be an indication of something else?
Finally making up his mind he moved his finger slightly and pressed a button immediately next to the original one.
The phone just kept on ringing and after a while went over to voicemail.
Frowning he moved the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a while in confusion before trying the same number again.
Again it followed the same route than before.
"Come on Sydney…where are you?" he muttered under his breath before trying once again, this time tapping his fingers impatiently against the side of the phone.
He was just about to give up hope when suddenly, without warning, the phone was picked up on the other side but with none of the usual greeting that was expected.
"Sydney?" he queried after a couple of seconds, unable to fathom why the older man was not saying something, anything.
"Sydney?" he asked again, this time more concerned when something akin to a faint sob reached his ears.
"She's dead. Jarod, she's dead," the older man whispered and with that he gave confirmation to the fear that Jarod has been harboring in his soul ever since he had awakened from his nightmare.
xxx
He was siting at a lonely table in the corner of a lonely café with his head rested upon his arms.
He was so very tired due to having been deprived of peaceful sleep for the past few nights. His thoughts and dreams had been haunted by images and voices he could not even begin to understand and had been keeping him from a good night's rest for far to long.
He was still a young man, barely into his thirties, but already he had seen the best and worst that life could offer any person.
"Can I take your order?" a woman's voice pierced through the clouds of his semi-consciousness.
Lifting his head he stared at the waitress for a while in incomprehension. "Listen young fellow. You've been sitting here, half asleep, for far too long to my liking. Either you order now or –"
"Ethan."
"Excuse me?"
"Ethan. My name is Ethan," he whispered and just before putting his head back on his arms he added softly, "just coffee for me please."