This is my first collaboration post along with another amazing talented blogger parallax. I hope you guys have a good read.
He loved losing himself amidst the woods,
& that day he lost himself into one...”
Wyatt Grey, 23, was a student of psychology. Young and dynamic, he loved exploring things. He had recently moved to the city of Angelsville along with his parents. His father, an ex-army official and his mother was a nurse who had left her job to take care of Wyatt.
The house was huge and neat. Walls as white as ivory with abstract paintings hanging along them. There ran a huge staircase up to the terrace from where one could view the entire city. Outside their house was a mammoth forest and Wyatt loved spending time in the midst of it. As usual of his routine, Wyatt set out for trailing along the woods… silence surrounded him . They were his companions in distress who brought out his best. But then everything seemed vague, the walk into a different phase… nothing was usual as always. Suddenly the sky turned dark, as if the sun was gulped by the devil.. darker it turned than the moonless night. His eyes blinded by eerie stillness. It seemed to him as if he had shut his eyes tight.
“He was intrigued by the woods, the serene silence bought him peace, which resonated his soul.
He loved the bliss, a walk amidst the woods brought him peace.
But hardly did he know, a walk could change his life..”
But No… He was wide awake. Thick patch of dark ink surrounded him. He tried to search for an exit. But it was a void…brimming darkness. The woods he loved walking into had turned into a maze. Inside a trap he was laid, with his conscience still awake.
Moments passed, every second felt like eons. He started to perspire & breathe heavily. Droplets of sweat covered his forehead even during the cold winter night. Wyatt’s heart thumped loudly, it seemed to him as if any moment his heart would jump out of its cavity.
Still trying to decipher what was happening, suddenly his ears shrieked by a loud scream… “Help!!” He shuddered and turned around but nobody was to be seen. “Wyatt help us!” came the voice again. Had he heard his name? But how could anyone know him. He was new to this place, having shifted to the city just weeks ago.
Everything was turning obscure. His pace had slowed down and he struggled to lift his leg. An uncanny silence engulfed him, the only thing to be heard was his heart’s loud thumping.
“His ears turned clairaudience,
He could hear noises of the invisible.”
Nobody was around, except for him and the silence. But still he could feel the presence of life. Something oblivion was striding by.He kept moving til’ he saw a police station. A ray of hope lighted inside him and he stormed towards it. Barging inside the police station, the scene looked even more gothic. It was like a Déjà vu, as if he had come there before… but when? ‘Have I seen this all before somewhere?’ asked Wyatt to himself as he tried to recall. The place was now all strewn & destroyed as if it was struck by some grave catastrophe. He slowly strolled inside.
Doors cracked open,things were scattered across, spider webs dominated the place. No light except that of a small bulb that was hanging discreetly. He was new to the place, yet his legs moved as if they were familiar with it. Still trying to reminisce and figure it all out, he stumbled upon something and fell.
Suddenly he heard a yelp again but this time it was too loud, signalling that its origin was somewhere nearby. But nobody was to be seen. He looked down, by his fall he had landed up on a tape recorder & it played. A sound of a lady yearning with help. A similar voice unheard. “Police officers are missing.. Civilians are missing. Wyatt help… Something has overtaken the town… then there was *sound of static* *people screaming* ‘
Wyatt tried playing it again, his hand shivered, but it was dead. Hell terrified, he tried to get up & run but his legs were all heavy. It seemed as if somebody had gripped them tight. He cried in pain but his voice didn’t reach out. Tears had dried… but he cried.
What was it? Had he unnoticeably stumbled upon the tape or was it deliberately kept there? ‘How do they know my name? Who were they? Why do I have a strong feeling that I know this place? Why does it all seem rather familiar?’
Whilst many questions were hovering his mind, he heard a knock on the door. The noise came from inside a closet. He got up slowly, moved towards it. The knocks grew louder. His heart thumped further and his nerves wrecked. Unable to understand what was happening, he was about run away and then the doors suddenly slammed shut, trapping him inside the wretched domicile.
Wyatt started to bang the door with his fist, desperately trying to get out, when he heard the sound of a door opening. He turned, a disfigured man walked towards him. Calling out his name he stumbled and fell. He neck broke off of his throat and his last words mouthed “WYATT HELL….”
A silent scream passed out of Wyatt’s mouth. He was perplexed.
While all this was going on, he heard a sound ,as of a bell coming from the jail cell. His legs were drawn towards the sound. A prisoner in burned rugged clothes was striking the metal with his nails, with his back facing towards Wyatt.
Sensing Wyatt’s footsteps, the man turned around and smirked.”Welcome to Angelsville. NOW IT’S YOU….” asserted the man in a sarcastic tone.
Wyatt turned pale, scared to tell, shuddering and shivers racing up & down his spine, he ran out of the police station… not knowing where his legs took him. He must have run for long when at last he stopped to catch his breath. Looking up, he realized that he was outside the same police station. Wyatt turned around to find himself surrounded by thousands of faces, all expressionless with severed limbs and faces.
‘Are they zombies?’ he thought to himself while taking a closer look. No, they weren’t, they were something else, resembling half-burned corpses… walking.
Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. The same sarcastic tone… “NOW IT’S YOU..” he froze. It was the same man from the cell right behind him. Before he could do anything, he felt a shooting pain on his head and everything around him darkened.
Wyatt found himself being carried away into a room resembling an operation theater when he came back to his senses. He remembered himself to be hit by an urn & he was knocked out.
Wyatt tried to get up & run but his struggle was of no use. Right beside him laid a man being mauled by a zombie-like figure wearing a lab coat. The face of the man was not visible but Wyatt could hear his screams… the screams so terrifying that could even scare the devil. Wyatt tried to look through just to find himself being operated by the figure. His eyes bulged out of his sockets. ‘How is that possible?’ said Wyatt. He saw himself in front of his eyes screaming for help. Terrified, he grabbed the knife on the tray laying beside & stabbed the nurse right between the eyes.
She did not budge. The knife bore no mark of blood on it. Panic stricken, he ran outside & found a staircase ahead of him. He ran up the staircase which seemed unending. Along the walls he found paintings, quotations about evil & death hanging. He stopped abruptly. Little by little the pieces of puzzle were falling into place. ‘I’ve seen these paintings.’ He turned to look around.
It was his house, the place where he lived. The paintings, the same he had loved watching. The walls were no more white as ivory but the paint had all piled off and a stench of blood blanketed the air.
At last finding a door he slammed it open. He reached the terrace, the same place from where he used to watch the vast forest, where he often went trailing. He looked down, there were millions of vile creatures. He heard some foot steps. The man in the cell was now marching towards him along with his army of creatures.
He knew now there was no escape. It was a checkmate. He looked at the knife in his hand, which had a beautiful rose engraved on it and the words ‘Angelsville – 1967‘ written in bold . ‘I guess this is it.’ he said to himself as he closed his eyes, leaped off the edge & stabbed himself in the gut.
Wyatt’s entire life flashed in front of his eyes. His mind rewinding all the happenings, trailing back in time. He died before even hitting the ground.
There was a loud thud. He jerked open his eyes, only to find himself wide awake on his bed… alive. He had woken up from a dream. Hallucinating & still panting, he looked around and heaved a sigh of relief to find himself in his bedroom. Still his heart beating aloud, he got off his bed, but felt heavy & went towards the washroom. Running the tap open, he splashed water on his face & sighed, ” It was just a nightmare.”
Just then he felt an excruciating pain in his stomach, something hurting him. Lifting his T-shirt, he found a wound with a tattoo beside it. Looking closely he perceived of it being of the same design as on the knife he stabbed himself with. “The Rose of Angelsville.”
Terrorized, he ran leaving the tap open out into his house. And nothing seemed the same. It was his house but no more it looked similar. ‘Mom! Dad! Where are you?!’ he howled, but the only response he got was of his own voice echoing. His parents were missing. Wyatt barged into all the rooms to find them. They was no one except him, isolated in the house. Struggling he ran down the stairs screaming aloud for help. When suddenly something caught his attention…a calendar hanging on the wall.
His heart skipped a beat. On it was inscribed the date – 21st December 1967.