balanced herself, she steadily rose and found she could stand again, holding her arms out for balance against those gusts of wind that kept trying to push her back into the searing sand. She couldn’t stay here. She would most certainly die if she stayed in this spot. Her only hope was to walk and pray she could find shelter and water.
Her steps dragged through the sinking sand and she kept the wind to her back. It would occasionally push her forward and she would stagger but refused to fall again. Her hands still bore the burns from the last time they touched the sand. She tried to blink the grit from her eyes but there were no tears, just dry scratches whenever her eyelids moved. She couldn’t spit the sand from her mouth because the saliva had disappeared. Her mouth was as desiccated as the desert around her.
Anna trudged through the infinite roasting desert, crossing dunes and trying not to slide down the opposite side as the sand avalanched beneath her feet, but it stretched on in endless miles. And the sun never changed its position in the sky above her, but continued to beat down on her in its merciless cruelty. She could feel her skin bubbling in agonizing blisters from the burns caused by the rays of the midday sun, but she could do nothing to prevent them. There was no shelter here. There was no water. She had no salvation.
Anna lost count of her steps, and the golden sand world around her began spinning. She was losing consciousness. She knew she was going to pass out and die here, with the blazing sun still shining brutally down on her burned and blistered body. Anna collapsed and felt the searing stinging pain of the sand as it touched her already wounded body, but she could no longer move. This was her death march. And it had come to an end.
The overpowering cold of the empty room surrounded her and reminded her where she was. There was no desert. She was not dying. But she was not in London, or with Colin either. Dreams. They had only been dreams.
She could still hear Colin’s cries, his tortured pleas, the way he called for her. Why couldn’t they die already? When would this end? She wanted to dream of him again. He had been so healthy and beautiful and perfect. A sudden shout of pain made her squeeze her eyes harder as the tears hit the vinyl beneath her.
The door opened. Anna only knew it had opened because she heard it and the sounds of the man’s footsteps as he walked into her room. She kept her face buried and hidden.
He knelt by her for the third time. She could feel the chilliness radiating off of his body, that sensation of something being slightly off about him that unnerved her in such an unusual way. “Anna, I gave you a chance to stop this.”
She refused to acknowledge him.
“Do you want it to stop now, Anna? Do you want his pain to stop?”
She swallowed the thick saliva in her mouth, but kept her face buried in her arms. “I want you to go away.”
“How long are you going to let this happen to him?”
Anna kept her eyes closed, and she started to pray again.
Chapter 12
Colin spun around again, shining the beam of his flashlight as he arced the forest around him. He couldn’t feel this thing so he had to rely on normal human senses to find it. Maybe his senses were the only ones that were … broken. “Dylan,” he whispered, “do you feel it?”
“Nothing, man. Are you sure it’s out here?”
Colin still felt the familiar stinging pain in his hand. Yes, he was sure. “It’s a lesser demon of some sort. Maybe one of Haborym’s. They leave a wound of fire.”
Dylan took a step closer to him. “A wound of fire ?” His voice registered the panic anyone would have when learning something was near that could leave wounds of fire.
“It’s metaphorical. Mostly.” Colin was too busy trying to find the damn thing to engage in a demonological lesson at the moment.
“Mostly?” Jeremy persisted. If anyone was going to have a literal wound of fire, Colin
Her steps dragged through the sinking sand and she kept the wind to her back. It would occasionally push her forward and she would stagger but refused to fall again. Her hands still bore the burns from the last time they touched the sand. She tried to blink the grit from her eyes but there were no tears, just dry scratches whenever her eyelids moved. She couldn’t spit the sand from her mouth because the saliva had disappeared. Her mouth was as desiccated as the desert around her.
Anna trudged through the infinite roasting desert, crossing dunes and trying not to slide down the opposite side as the sand avalanched beneath her feet, but it stretched on in endless miles. And the sun never changed its position in the sky above her, but continued to beat down on her in its merciless cruelty. She could feel her skin bubbling in agonizing blisters from the burns caused by the rays of the midday sun, but she could do nothing to prevent them. There was no shelter here. There was no water. She had no salvation.
Anna lost count of her steps, and the golden sand world around her began spinning. She was losing consciousness. She knew she was going to pass out and die here, with the blazing sun still shining brutally down on her burned and blistered body. Anna collapsed and felt the searing stinging pain of the sand as it touched her already wounded body, but she could no longer move. This was her death march. And it had come to an end.
The overpowering cold of the empty room surrounded her and reminded her where she was. There was no desert. She was not dying. But she was not in London, or with Colin either. Dreams. They had only been dreams.
She could still hear Colin’s cries, his tortured pleas, the way he called for her. Why couldn’t they die already? When would this end? She wanted to dream of him again. He had been so healthy and beautiful and perfect. A sudden shout of pain made her squeeze her eyes harder as the tears hit the vinyl beneath her.
The door opened. Anna only knew it had opened because she heard it and the sounds of the man’s footsteps as he walked into her room. She kept her face buried and hidden.
He knelt by her for the third time. She could feel the chilliness radiating off of his body, that sensation of something being slightly off about him that unnerved her in such an unusual way. “Anna, I gave you a chance to stop this.”
She refused to acknowledge him.
“Do you want it to stop now, Anna? Do you want his pain to stop?”
She swallowed the thick saliva in her mouth, but kept her face buried in her arms. “I want you to go away.”
“How long are you going to let this happen to him?”
Anna kept her eyes closed, and she started to pray again.
Chapter 12
Colin spun around again, shining the beam of his flashlight as he arced the forest around him. He couldn’t feel this thing so he had to rely on normal human senses to find it. Maybe his senses were the only ones that were … broken. “Dylan,” he whispered, “do you feel it?”
“Nothing, man. Are you sure it’s out here?”
Colin still felt the familiar stinging pain in his hand. Yes, he was sure. “It’s a lesser demon of some sort. Maybe one of Haborym’s. They leave a wound of fire.”
Dylan took a step closer to him. “A wound of fire ?” His voice registered the panic anyone would have when learning something was near that could leave wounds of fire.
“It’s metaphorical. Mostly.” Colin was too busy trying to find the damn thing to engage in a demonological lesson at the moment.
“Mostly?” Jeremy persisted. If anyone was going to have a literal wound of fire, Colin
Similar Books
