Ain't No Grave: Prologue, a short story by HarrySaintcrow. Date added: 2012-08-10. Times viewed: 404.
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His lungs continued to burn from the constant screaming. Blood rain in thick streams down his arms as the manacles continued to cut into his wrists. His back was alight with pain as the shocks continued. The steel in his feet continued to weigh him down even more while the hooks were pulled tighter and tighter. Then there was her blade; cutting and digging into his flesh. Blood ran thick in hot down the drain so quickly, he could catch the steam of it as it touched the cold stone floor. And all the while; there was the constant laughter and giggling. Every stroke accompanied by a giggle. Every scream accompanied by a laugh. Days blurred into weeks of the constant pain until finally he gave in to the encompassing darkness.
Tim opened his eyes slowly; letting in only a small amount of the blinding white light. It took a moment for Tim to realize that he was now standing in a completely white room. There were no visible windows or door anywhere that he could see; only the stark white of the walls and the floor. The ceiling was high enough that all he could see was light coming down from it. After another moment passed, his eyes became adjusted to the light. He looked down at himself to find he was dressed in simple white robes with bare feet. The robes smelled of freshly clean linen and another scent that was so familiar to him. Images of a dark haired woman flashed before his eyes for a moment before he brought his hands up to his face. They were callused but seemed more like smooth leather than anything else. More images flashed before his eyes; Guns, knives, a sword, chains and manacles. He pushed the thoughts away before they could assault him anymore.
“It is not easy to bury the past; even harder to bury the present.” A voice said from behind Tim.
“Perhaps I’m only sealing myself away from the present; you could almost say I’m taking myself out of the equation.” Tim said as he casually turned around. Leaning against the wall stood a man who was only five or six inches taller than Tim. He was dressed in a well tailored black suit with blood red velvet vest and matching tie. His skin was a stark contrast being very pale, almost to the point of translucence. His jet black hair was slicked back with a couple of loose strands framing his face with a neatly trimmed goatee. His eyes were what caught Tim’s attention first; black with red irises; just like his own.
“Not many people can do what you have done. Quite a remarkable talent if I do say so myself.” The man continued in a smooth cultured voice. He held a silver pocket watch on a chain clipped to his vest in his left hand and flicked the lid open then close every so often. “I have seen men four times your age that could not have done this.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tim said. The man came away from the wall with only the slightest of movement and began to casually walk around the room; As if admiring it on a Sunday stroll through the park.
“But you must know that your body is still out there taking the beatings. Those memories and experiences will not go away. This little box you have constructed will only protect you for so long.” The man said.
“It’ll last long enough.” Tim said. “Who are you?” the man gave a slight smile before stopping. He clicked the lid of his watch closed and placed the watch in his vest pocket.
“Oh, I have so many names, so many faces. Truthfully none of them are very important to me.” The man said.
“Then what should I call you?” Tim asked.
“Call me, Lahood; I have always had a fancy for that name.” he said. Tim continued to eye him suspiciously.
“Okay, then why are you here; inside my mind?” Tim asked. Lahood simply shrugged as he continued to circle Tim.
“There could be any number of reasons why I am here. I could be an infiltrator sent to break your mind while the vampire breaks your body out there; but then again your defenses would come into play if that were true.” Lahood said.
“Defenses?” Tim asked.
“Oh that’s right; you only have a small amount of your memories. Due to sealing yourself away in your own mind.” Lahood said.
“What are you talking about?” Tim asked.
“This little box your in is what some refer to as a safe room of the mind. Your main consciousness remains here free from the harmful input of whatever is ailing you outside. The drawback is that not all of your memories and experiences can come with you. Otherwise the box would become weakened. Eventually though they will come through and these walls will come tumbling down.” LaHood said.
“You’re saying I won’t remember anything while I’m here?” Tim asked.
“Oh it will all come back eventually. For now you’re here until your walls crash or your body ceases to be. Whichever comes first?” Lahood said.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” Tim said. Lahood simply smiled before stopping in front of Tim.
“I am as harmful a threat to you as a butterfly. I come here as a friend if that is what you desire. For the time being I am here to keep you company while the world continues to turn around you.” He said.
“I don’t have many friends.” Tim said.
“Oh, I assure you, you have more than anyone could ask for.” LaHood said. “Here, take this.” he said as he handed a black marker to Tim. Tim took it cautiously knowing something was not all together with this man.
“What do I do with this?” Tim asked.
“Think on it for a bit; it’ll come to you.” Lahood said and in the blink of an eye he was gone. No smoke, no sound, one moment there, the next gone. Tim looked around the room and then at the walls around him. Finally he looked at the marker still in his hand and a smile came across his face. Tim knew exactly what to do.
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