Status: Completed
The Gas Mask
Poison
Pens, knives, scissors, and screwdrivers; all soaring in the same direction, cutting through the air like a jet. They were all bound for one thing, for a common target. Zayden scurried along the unbalanced bridge and he made the mistake of looking back more than once. He would not scream because even though this was just a dream, his pride had tagged along with him. There was a river ahead, and thinking that the sharp objects were not resistant to water, he jumped in. However, he would soon find out he was severely wrong.
Zayden woke up from his unpleasant, reoccurring dream. Cold sweat lined his forehead, seeping onto his pillow. Surely, a glass of water will help. In the kitchen, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. His mother died not too long ago, an unknown person had murdered her. The case was closed due to lack of evidence and justice had been discarded. Zayden tried to expunge the image of his mother’s corpse that once lived in this very house. Pens, knives, scissors, and screwdrivers, all plunged into his mother’s back, impaled multiple times. That was the last time he ever saw his mother.
He had kept one eye open when he tried to sleep, keeping on the lookout for any intruder that could be in the house. His pillow had lost its firmness from the pressure Zayden had been recently putting on it.
Where can I go at two thirty in the morning? Zayden asked himself. After a few minutes of pondering, he decided to go to a local coffee shop that, thankfully, was open all night. Upon arriving, he ordered his usual mocha frappe chino and sat down a table. He tenderly took out his laptop and began to type a business letter he had been meaning to write for the past week. The coffee shop was painfully quiet and empty, save for another lone customer and a couple of employees.
Dear Mr. Sawyer,
I apologize for the inconvenience of my absence. A close family member recently passed away and I had taken a temporary leave for her burial.
It was excessively short, but he could think of nothing else to say. How could he explain the true motive for taking an extensive break from work without sounding cheesy? He closed his laptop, ending his attempt to type a business letter.
Zayden left twelve minutes later, after he finished his coffee and took some time to think about his predicament at hand. He got into his car and began to drive back to his home. Suddenly the car behind him bumped into his own. He immediately stopped, and stepped out of the car, only to be pushed down onto the side of his car as if he was being handcuffed. The unknown person forced Zayden into the passanger side his vehicle, and began to drive. The anonymous person put on a gas mask and sprayed a chemical maintained in an air freshener can. The trip was short, and when the mystery person made the vehicle came to a halt, he hurriedly got out of the car and around to the passenger side where Zayden had fell unconscious. In no time, the unidentified person had tied Zayden to a sturdy tree, his appendages tied to different branches so his body was vertical to the ground. He took a red duffle bag out of the trunk of his car and carried it a few feet in front of the tree.
“Time to play darts” he said, the only words he had uttered that entire night.
He opened the bag to see an array of sharp objects he had previously packed and held two in each hand. A smirk crept on his face; it would be fun to do this again, especially to the son of his previous victim. The masked person prepared to throw his first object at Zayden just as he began to gain consciousness. This made the murderer laugh and he threw the object in his hand on impulse.
He continued this until all on his utensils were covered in a crimson red, and one by one, he plucked them out of the still living Zayden. The man decided to snap a picture with an old-fashioned Polaroid camera, let it fall to the ground, and drove away in his automobile.
As the minutes and hours pass by, I hope that we will soon intertwine,
But all I may ask, is to please keep on your mask.
Death, is a midnight runner.
Zayden woke up from his unpleasant, reoccurring dream. Cold sweat lined his forehead, seeping onto his pillow. Surely, a glass of water will help. In the kitchen, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. His mother died not too long ago, an unknown person had murdered her. The case was closed due to lack of evidence and justice had been discarded. Zayden tried to expunge the image of his mother’s corpse that once lived in this very house. Pens, knives, scissors, and screwdrivers, all plunged into his mother’s back, impaled multiple times. That was the last time he ever saw his mother.
He had kept one eye open when he tried to sleep, keeping on the lookout for any intruder that could be in the house. His pillow had lost its firmness from the pressure Zayden had been recently putting on it.
Where can I go at two thirty in the morning? Zayden asked himself. After a few minutes of pondering, he decided to go to a local coffee shop that, thankfully, was open all night. Upon arriving, he ordered his usual mocha frappe chino and sat down a table. He tenderly took out his laptop and began to type a business letter he had been meaning to write for the past week. The coffee shop was painfully quiet and empty, save for another lone customer and a couple of employees.
Dear Mr. Sawyer,
I apologize for the inconvenience of my absence. A close family member recently passed away and I had taken a temporary leave for her burial.
It was excessively short, but he could think of nothing else to say. How could he explain the true motive for taking an extensive break from work without sounding cheesy? He closed his laptop, ending his attempt to type a business letter.
Zayden left twelve minutes later, after he finished his coffee and took some time to think about his predicament at hand. He got into his car and began to drive back to his home. Suddenly the car behind him bumped into his own. He immediately stopped, and stepped out of the car, only to be pushed down onto the side of his car as if he was being handcuffed. The unknown person forced Zayden into the passanger side his vehicle, and began to drive. The anonymous person put on a gas mask and sprayed a chemical maintained in an air freshener can. The trip was short, and when the mystery person made the vehicle came to a halt, he hurriedly got out of the car and around to the passenger side where Zayden had fell unconscious. In no time, the unidentified person had tied Zayden to a sturdy tree, his appendages tied to different branches so his body was vertical to the ground. He took a red duffle bag out of the trunk of his car and carried it a few feet in front of the tree.
“Time to play darts” he said, the only words he had uttered that entire night.
He opened the bag to see an array of sharp objects he had previously packed and held two in each hand. A smirk crept on his face; it would be fun to do this again, especially to the son of his previous victim. The masked person prepared to throw his first object at Zayden just as he began to gain consciousness. This made the murderer laugh and he threw the object in his hand on impulse.
He continued this until all on his utensils were covered in a crimson red, and one by one, he plucked them out of the still living Zayden. The man decided to snap a picture with an old-fashioned Polaroid camera, let it fall to the ground, and drove away in his automobile.
As the minutes and hours pass by, I hope that we will soon intertwine,
But all I may ask, is to please keep on your mask.
Death, is a midnight runner.
♠ ♠ ♠
Last line courtesey of the spoken word [hidden track] in the song "...But home is nowhere" by AFI.