Chapter 2: Warehouse
I awake to a screaming headache and slight weakness. My stomach churns at the smell of blood.
"Waa-Huh?" I open my eyes; many questions come to mind. Where am I? Where is Jake? How long have I been asleep? I search the area around me. This is not my home. What is going on!? I soon realize that a rusted, old warehouse of some sort has taken the place of my house, where I should be peacefully sleeping. I can't hear a thing. Have i lost my sense of hearing all together? Screaming seems like the only way to test it, even with a headache from hell. Letting out a terrifying shriek, I wince in pain. Excruciating pain. Pain that makes me want to scream even more. That's honestly the least of my worries though. Either way, it was an idiotic idea, but it did insure I could hear. It's just quiet, too quiet. Not that I was complaining, but when you're alone, in the dark...there's room to complain. And not once during this time did I ever think of jsut leaving. Until now, of course. It was as easy as can be. I mean, there was the door. Right there, just a few feet away. It was inviting, but there was something more that kept me here. Something I could not explain no matter how hard I wanted to. Not even if I tried. Beginning to put two and two together, I started to shiver violently.
. . .
Two years ago, a group of kids who went to my high school were murdered in this exact building. I didn't know any of the kids, nor did I recognize them, but I believed the story. I remember the building though, from photographs. So intriguing as it stood tall and mighty in an old field by itself. But where had I seen the photos? Either way, a week after the kids dissapearance, police started to investigate. Someone nearby recalled seeing the kids being led to this building by a mysterious man he hadn't seen from around town. And it was a small town where everyone knew each other. The next day, that man and over five police officers were found dead. Since then, no one has dare entered because each time someone does, they never return. I'd be the first. Whatever or whoever patrols this building is a killing machine, that's for sure. And yet, I was determined to shut it down, even if I died trying. Now of course, there was no real killing machine, but instead a serial killer perhaps.
Once again I had drifted off into a deep sleep.
Sometime later, much later, after awakening I realized something I hadn't before. Nobody had ever been killed in this building, let alone ever been inside this place. There were no kids, or mysterious men, or photos. No police, no feild, no nothing. To the ouside world, the warehouse did not exist. Only in my dreams had I seen this place. Along with everything and everyone who was involved. So what--was I hallucinating? Or just dreaming?
**Chapter 3: Remembering will be posted tomorrow (Friday, July 21, 2011) or the following week. Thank you for reading. Please comment/like/subscribe. --JasperSkye
Thanks to Anthony James H. for giving me the support and strength I needed. I love you.........
