the death

Jacob Ellen fumbled around in his sleep. The covers were strewn in a disarray, and the young man’s face was clenched, as though in utter agony. The nightmare was taking a hold of his body, and the well toned muscles in his body spasmed discordantly, a writhing mass of muscle knotted itself densely in the man's side, a burning cramp. With a start, the man woke up. There was an electronic buzz on the tabletop beside Jacob, alerting him to the presence of the sms. He gingerly held his side, and worked the small cramp. Then, he noticed the phone screen buzzing, and picked it up.

 

  "Jacob Ellen... Jacob Ellen..." the voice was a woman's, the volume getting audibly softer, then a jarring lullaby filled the room, and then, all was silent. Blood slowly dripped from Jacob's nose, and his eyes were wide with terror.

 

  There was a thump of a body, as Jacob tumbled off the bed. It had felt so real. The scream seemed especially familiar, but he could not place his finger on it. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, the fight or flight response taking it's toll. He rubbed his forehead wearily. Recently, he had been having the dreams, occasions when he would wake up, and then find the voice screaming, pleading and searching, as though trying to probe his mind. To him, it was like the experience of a Tran orbital lobotomy. Pain was coursing through his head, like the hot wire of agony down the old surgery scar on his leg.

 

      The sky was not yet bright, and the English streets were deserted. The second room window afforded the best view of the city, and the street below was spick and span, a bright contrast to the grimy English streets elsewhere in London. Jacob shrugged, and threw back the two panadol pills that he kept on his bedside in case the headaches returned. Immediately, the headaches subsided. He sighed, and picked the cell phone off the table, and pulled on the trousers and working shirt, then slipped the cell phone into his pocket. The cell’s glowing display seemed to shine and twinkle maliciously at him…

 

 

      The sky was an ominous shade of violet when Jacob returned to the apartment. The furniture was seemingly tinted a blood red. The throbbing migraine that had been plaguing him since that morning had not gone away, in fact, the throbbing had gotten worse. Groaning, Jacob popped two panadol, and leaned back in the sofa, a chilled flute of bubbly in his hand. Must be the alcohol, he thought, downing the flute in a single gulp. Then, he loosened his tie, and closed his eyes. The warm glow behind his eyelids was soothing, the pain seeming to gradually ebb away. Then, the eels exploded behind his eyes. He sat forward, and gasped. The pain had come with such surprise, and with such physical force that it seemed as though someone had given him a well placed slugging in between his eyes. Grabbing his head, Jacob woozily got up and texted his beau Emily that he would not be turning up for the club party that night. Massaging his temples, Jacob turned the shower on, watching as the bathtub filled up with steaming warm water. The pain had ebbed somewhat by this time, and Jacob stripped, lifting the silk shirt over his well toned body. A dull ache pulsed through his head, and his shoulders ached, as though someone were riding on them. Slipping into the water, Jacob felt the ache subside somewhat, and then, his eyelids grew heavy. Slowly, Jacob Ellen’s eyelids closed, and a soft snore escaped his lips.

 

      “God, where am I?” he muttered, the psychedelic landscape around him disorienting and hurting his eyes. Squinting painfully against the glare, he checked the time on his wristwatch… strange, he could have sworn he changed the battery yesterday. Or was it yesterday? He couldn’t think straight. The pain behind his eyes scrambled the thoughts, causing him to end up with semi-coherent thoughts, and frustration seeped into his head like a tentacled creature, sticking its tentacles into the sensitive parts of his brain. He clutched his head, pain seeming to be in his very veins. Then, as suddenly as the vision appeared, it disappeared. He was floating, in a void as black as a starless night. The bathtub and other paraphernalia materialized around him, albeit with a sepia tinge, like an old photograph. A girl, a long haired girl, with hair obscuring her face, pulled the curtains apart, and suddenly, Jacob was aware of how naked he was. Then, the girl brushed her hair aside, and Jacob was hit with a shock of recognition. “Lara?” he exclaimed. Then, the girl opened her mouth.

 

      “Jacob Ellen… Jacob Ellen…” and Jacob knew with certain dread what was going to happen next. A jarring melody filled the air, and he looked on in horror, as the blood began to pour from his nose.

 

Hours later, police knocked down the door, and charged in. the blood had leaked from the toilet to the front door, and all they found, was a skeleton, mobile phone half immersed in the crimson bathwater, a lilting lullaby playing, and the expression of the corpse one of utter terror.

Reviews

[l'ange de mort]

GREAT story, although there are some parts tt u could have added parts tt would haf made the story much much nicer.