The Kitchen

Blank. Reset.

I look around. My hand is black; it hurts. My other… is fine. The aching of my skull pulses, perpetuating my confusion. Wet. I’m in something wet: a puddle. Blood. I push up with shaky elbows. A light flickers. The kitchen light. There was something wrong with the electricity and I…

Sitting up I grip my head tightly, a lone soldier fighting the army that causes migraines. The light burns my eyes, and I must grip my eyelids like the blind seeking redemption.

Hhhhhsssssssss…

There it was. Again. I recognize that sound.

Twisting I shot my gaze around, switching between which eye was open to avoid the blinding brightness of the swinging kitchen light.

It was here. That thing. And Sam…

I could see something in the shadows of the living room. A hulking silhouette, not too unfamiliar from a bear or some type of gorilla. It heaved heavily with each assumed breath.

I looked away quickly, best it doesn’t know I saw it. Fear told me not to let it know I was aware of it. Never let it know. No… my Sam…

I could feel the memory return, and with it the encroaching repulsive sadness, the one that overwhelms and grips you tightly, causing you to lose all inhibition. I wailed in sorrow at the image of her gore splashing across the yard.

THUMP went the beast. The monster of my design. I felt pain. It hungered for a more delicate delight. THUMP.

Again, I could hear her crying for me. For my aid. As I cower below the kitchen table. The fool I was. The pathetic little fool.

THUMP.

It felt my mind. My soul. Soon it would have me. And I would join those darkened shadows. I could do not but scream as the nothingness shattered my very soul across the kitchen sink.

The only sound that remained was the dripping of the faucet. Drip… drip… drip…