Gushing Blood
Fresh Meat
Jamie, after walking through the door, immediately finds himself surrounded by a pool of darkness, but he continues to walk forwards, his arms stretched in front of him his back hunched forward, his feet shuffling along the floor, staying attached, Melody, pulls a powerful long, silver torch from her bag, and presses the button. The first section the light hits is a small fireplace, it is made of stone, pieces put together to create it's shape, each piece varying colours from light blues, to light purples, there are logs set in the fire as if they were to be lit. Upon the light brown wooden mantelpiece rests a small rectangular silver clock, it has a small handle on the top, it has four short legs, each leg is made of a swirl of the metal. The clock face is written in Roman numerals, the glass covering it is dusty, leaving only the tip of both hands barely visible, pointing to the 12. Above the clock Melody notices a fancy golden frame and sees a portrait of a strange man.
“I know that man, I saw him outside” said Jamie, surprised.
“What do you mean you saw him outside?” questions Melody.
“Well, I had a vision... a sort of flashback and saw this man and a woman. THIS is the man from the vision.” Replied Jamie eagerly. To the right of the fireplace is a door, it is barely hanging on its hinges. There is a hole in the bottom left of the door, it is clearly from where somebody had kicked the door. In the centre of the room lies a table, one of it's legs snapped off, scraps of splintered wood lay nearby. It is rested upon a large oval carpet which is a deep red, embroidered onto it is a golden lion. Placed neatly around the room are large white sheets covering large objects, undeniably these are sofa's and one, an armchair. Jamie starts to experience a feeling of sickness in his stomach, his eyes begin to twitch, his vision blurring, and swirling, things in the room begin to move. He collapses to the floor, Melody and Aaron attempt to run to him, but they too are now feeling the same, neither of them knowing what is happening. The swirling, and blurring stops, and feeling of sickness quickly fades. The room is full of colour, the fireplace roaring with fire, the clock ticking, the door handle begins to turn, the 3 friends turn their heads towards the door as it opens slowly, a hand reaching through to a light switch next to the door, and flicks it on. A couple, walk through the door arm in arm, they both put their coats on the tall black hat stand and he places his hat upon it too. The man, walks through Jamie and up to the clock on the mantelpiece, picking it up and opening the back, producing a small golden key, he makes his way over to the door to the right of the fireplace. The woman, who all this time has been staring at the man, moves into the kitchen. Melody runs to Aaron and hugs him, and both of them give Jamie a worried look. Just as Melody is about to speak, the woman reappears carrying a silver tray. It is a posh tray, holding a large glass decanter, wide at its base with a long thin neck, a dark red substance fills the decanter. Either side stands two tumblers, crystal, hey have engraved lines running up the sides of the glasses, making a pattern as the lines weave in and out of each other. The lady's head snaps to Jamie, and lays upon her face a smile of discontent. It's the sort of smile you would give to somebody whom you do not like, but must humour their presence. She walks over to the small coffee table laying down her tray. All the while with the same look on her face. She knows. Somehow, our two worlds are interlacing. The smile soon changes as she lifts the decanter, removing the lid, and begins to pour gently into the crystal glasses. The red liquid pours slowly, it is thick, a deep colour, immediately a smell fills the room. It is not the smell of wine, but it is not the smell of blood either, it is the smell of burning. The liquid pours into the glass, and into the crevices of the lines engraved into the glasses, following them around as if it were one of those bendy straws. She repeats the pouring with the second glass. Jamie, Aaron and Melody are stood completely still watching the lady's every move. She bends around to the fire and begins to light it. She strikes a match, small sparks fly off as her attempt fails, she tries again this time with more success. The fire erupts into furious flames of golden yellows flickering, reflections thrown from the table, mirrors and the mantelpiece. Footsteps are heard coming from behind the wooden door and a quiet creak where the feet stop. The door handle turns, the door flings open, revealing the man, in a white apron, stained with red, holding a butchers knife in one hand, a chunk of flesh in the other. His head turns to us, “Are we having guests for dinner dear?” he asks. He smirks, as though something horrible was going to happen, and it was his idea. But he lets go of the smile and faces his wife. “I don't think so. They'll be leaving soon.” She quivers, wearing a worried look. Her throat moves as if she had just gulped. “Good” he snarls. He then places the knife at her throat. Her eyes slam shut, he leans his head to her ear, a quiet whisper is heard, a tear runs from her eye over her cheek. She picks up her dress and runs out of the room wiping the tear from her face. The man paces towards where the three friends are. Flipping the knife in his hand, it flips around, he catches it. Continuously doing so as he walks towards them, he lifts the knife over the shoulder, flings his arm, forward releasing the knife. The glade glistening, flames are reflected on the silver blade, it flies straight through Aaron's head. The flashback quickly fades. Aaron collapses to the floor, petrified, he can't speak, he can't move, his teeth chattering, tears stream from his face. Jamie glances at the wall, a butchers knife is wedged into the wall, smeared with dry blood.
“I know that man, I saw him outside” said Jamie, surprised.
“What do you mean you saw him outside?” questions Melody.
“Well, I had a vision... a sort of flashback and saw this man and a woman. THIS is the man from the vision.” Replied Jamie eagerly. To the right of the fireplace is a door, it is barely hanging on its hinges. There is a hole in the bottom left of the door, it is clearly from where somebody had kicked the door. In the centre of the room lies a table, one of it's legs snapped off, scraps of splintered wood lay nearby. It is rested upon a large oval carpet which is a deep red, embroidered onto it is a golden lion. Placed neatly around the room are large white sheets covering large objects, undeniably these are sofa's and one, an armchair. Jamie starts to experience a feeling of sickness in his stomach, his eyes begin to twitch, his vision blurring, and swirling, things in the room begin to move. He collapses to the floor, Melody and Aaron attempt to run to him, but they too are now feeling the same, neither of them knowing what is happening. The swirling, and blurring stops, and feeling of sickness quickly fades. The room is full of colour, the fireplace roaring with fire, the clock ticking, the door handle begins to turn, the 3 friends turn their heads towards the door as it opens slowly, a hand reaching through to a light switch next to the door, and flicks it on. A couple, walk through the door arm in arm, they both put their coats on the tall black hat stand and he places his hat upon it too. The man, walks through Jamie and up to the clock on the mantelpiece, picking it up and opening the back, producing a small golden key, he makes his way over to the door to the right of the fireplace. The woman, who all this time has been staring at the man, moves into the kitchen. Melody runs to Aaron and hugs him, and both of them give Jamie a worried look. Just as Melody is about to speak, the woman reappears carrying a silver tray. It is a posh tray, holding a large glass decanter, wide at its base with a long thin neck, a dark red substance fills the decanter. Either side stands two tumblers, crystal, hey have engraved lines running up the sides of the glasses, making a pattern as the lines weave in and out of each other. The lady's head snaps to Jamie, and lays upon her face a smile of discontent. It's the sort of smile you would give to somebody whom you do not like, but must humour their presence. She walks over to the small coffee table laying down her tray. All the while with the same look on her face. She knows. Somehow, our two worlds are interlacing. The smile soon changes as she lifts the decanter, removing the lid, and begins to pour gently into the crystal glasses. The red liquid pours slowly, it is thick, a deep colour, immediately a smell fills the room. It is not the smell of wine, but it is not the smell of blood either, it is the smell of burning. The liquid pours into the glass, and into the crevices of the lines engraved into the glasses, following them around as if it were one of those bendy straws. She repeats the pouring with the second glass. Jamie, Aaron and Melody are stood completely still watching the lady's every move. She bends around to the fire and begins to light it. She strikes a match, small sparks fly off as her attempt fails, she tries again this time with more success. The fire erupts into furious flames of golden yellows flickering, reflections thrown from the table, mirrors and the mantelpiece. Footsteps are heard coming from behind the wooden door and a quiet creak where the feet stop. The door handle turns, the door flings open, revealing the man, in a white apron, stained with red, holding a butchers knife in one hand, a chunk of flesh in the other. His head turns to us, “Are we having guests for dinner dear?” he asks. He smirks, as though something horrible was going to happen, and it was his idea. But he lets go of the smile and faces his wife. “I don't think so. They'll be leaving soon.” She quivers, wearing a worried look. Her throat moves as if she had just gulped. “Good” he snarls. He then places the knife at her throat. Her eyes slam shut, he leans his head to her ear, a quiet whisper is heard, a tear runs from her eye over her cheek. She picks up her dress and runs out of the room wiping the tear from her face. The man paces towards where the three friends are. Flipping the knife in his hand, it flips around, he catches it. Continuously doing so as he walks towards them, he lifts the knife over the shoulder, flings his arm, forward releasing the knife. The glade glistening, flames are reflected on the silver blade, it flies straight through Aaron's head. The flashback quickly fades. Aaron collapses to the floor, petrified, he can't speak, he can't move, his teeth chattering, tears stream from his face. Jamie glances at the wall, a butchers knife is wedged into the wall, smeared with dry blood.