The Crow (Part 9)

Chapter 9

i

“Where am I?” I asked.

“We’re in your mind,” the plagued doctor replied.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you know, yet? Didn’t the KhanaiKlan tell you?” The plague doctor looked into my eyes, and I saw . . . nothing. There was absolutely nothing in his goggled gaze. “Do you want to know?”

ii

I woke up, gasping. I was in my mothers house, and the first thing I noticed was my mothers face staring at me.

Her face was blank. Literally, there was not a thing on it; no nose, no mouth, no eyes.

Nothing.

“Don’t you want to know?” it said.

“Stop.”

“I can show you.”

“Stop!”

“I can tell you. I can—”

“Stop!”

“—show you my true self.”

“Leave me alone!”

But it continued. “And when I’m done, you can finally join the rest.”

iii

I woke up, gasping.

Kelly was staring at me.

Her face was blank.

“I can show you all of it.” The walls of my mothers house were red

(like a red carpet)

with blood, the pictures smashed to pieces on the floor. Bodies were littered with the pieces of glass, and I—

Oh God, I thought. I saw my mother along the tangle of bodies. And I saw my dad.

I saw Rachel.

“GET OUT OF MY MIND!” I yelled on and on. “GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OU—”

iv

“—T GET OUT!”

I woke up gasping. “Stop messing with my fucking head!”

“Get used to it.”

I looked around. I was in a cell on a bunk bed, and the plague doctor was standing outside of the bars.

“Who are you?” I asked.

It’s masked face titled but said nothing.

“Who are you?” I repeated.

Nothing.

“What do you want with me?”

Nothing.

I charged the iron bars, arms stretched out to strangle the motherfucker.

But it wasn’t there.

(he’s here)

(no he’s here)

(behind you)

(over here)

(i’m dead)

(you’re dead)

“Stop messing with ME!” I roared. I slammed a fist into the wall, over, and over, and over, oblivious to the knuckles that broke. Blood smeared on the wall. A red haze clouded my vision.

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop

v

fucking messing with me!”

I woke up at the sound of my own voice. I was on the floor, my hands bloody, and a tad bit out of shape.

But I felt no pain.

All I could think about was Kelly.

vi

Kelly was crying, sheltering in an abandoned vehicle for the night. She was hungry, cold, and scared.

Ryan was right behind her.

He said he was!

And now, who knows where he was? She had tried to get back and find him, but there were too many soldiers there. They were searching for her.

“Fuck!” she cried, slamming her balled-up fists on the ground (not knowing that it was similar to what Ryan was doing in his fit of rage). “Fuck fuck fuck!”

She put her head on her knees, her arms wrapped around her shins, and cried.

vii

I looked around. Same cell. Same bunk.

Same everything.

Yet nothing felt real.

Nothing at all.

I looked around once more, and my heart took a sledgehammer to my chest and hopped in my throat.

The cell door was open. I thought it might be some kind of trick, so I didn’t move.

A second went by. Then a minute.

Curiosity was burning me alive, but I tried to quench it, making myself believe I could get out of this and try to save Kelly by not falling for that motherfuckers tricks. But, like all things, the curiosity was too much to bear.

I got up, walked to the cell door, and peeked out. The white, bland walls, cracked with dilapidation, stretched on endlessly in a straight line of a hall. For as far as I could see, there were no other cells.

I walked out of the cell, and into the hall. I was scared shitless (though I would never admit that to anybody), but I forced myself to go on. I walked.

And walked.

And walked.

It seemed like I was walking forever, and when I looked back, the vast hall continued behind me. It was almost as if I stepped out of a portal.

I lost sense of direction, and I felt like I was losing my sanity with every ragged step. Claustrophobia, my long distant friend, wrapped its fingers around my head, first caressing, then squeezing.

I kept walking.

(who am i)

The walls stretched on, and even if the world crumbled to a speck in the dust, I’d still be trapped in this psychological prison, and the walls would still be staring at me with something like grief

(welcome to forever)

and my mind would still be playing tricks with me. I would still be walking this endless path, losing sanity and sense of direction and even if I died I’d still live and walk this prison, I’d still be walking and walking and

(run)

walking and

(run)

walking and there would be nothing I could do. This is a place to lose all hope, to lose all sanity, and no one could save me

(run)

and I’d die, but I’d still be alive, which is far much worse.

(run)

Something made my legs kick into gear, and I started to run. Run from death. Run from life.

Run from sanity.

I ran as fast as I could, and instead of walking forever, I ran forever. I ran

(hurry)

and ran forever.