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The Rushing

By LisaEPotter All Rights Reserved ©

Horror / Mystery

Darke

There is something. There is something under the floor.

The boy's palm rested flat on the ground. He could feel something rushing below the smooth wood, something that burrowed in deep soil.

It must be big, the boy thought, for he could feel its vibrations so far up on the surface.

He was breathing heavily, pushing both his hands against the boards as though to silence the beast that lurked beneath. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and splashed on top of his hands. He froze. In the fraction of the second when the sweat droplet was airborne, the sound changed. Screeching of metal against metal erupted. It grew louder and louder as the seconds ticked by. The boy has just enough time to realise the thing was making its way for the surface before the wooden floor smashed. Darkness seemed out of the hole and engulfed the room. The darkness was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was pitch black, like an empty void of nothingness.

He was crawling around, desperately searching for the door, but there was no door. He did not collide with the bed which had been inches away from him either. He seemed to be in a completely different place, a place unbound by walls - and yet, the boy felt suffocated. His eyes and chest burned.

Who was he? Why was he there?

He did not know.

He screwed his eyes shut to resist the dark force, but the pain persisted. His eyes were on fire; the flame passing down to his lungs, scorching them. He coughed - or at least tried to. He could feel the vibrations, but neither sound nor phlegm rose up his throat. The darkness seemed to consume that, too.

Darke.

Yes, that was his name. Darke. He was sure of it.

He blinked.

A rush raced past his ears. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end. He was in an unfamiliar room, now. There was a bed just a few inches from him.

The door flew open. A stranger stood at the doorway.

"Now, why haven't you come down for breakfast, yet?" she demanded crossly, her hands resting on her hips. "I've been calling you for the past half hour!"

He goggled at her. Confusion outlined his face.

"Who are you?" he asked slowly.

The woman's scowl grew deeper. She scoffed. "What do you mean who am I? You dare show cheek when you're already in trouble. Oh, I don't see - "

"Who are you?" the boy repeated.

"Who are you?" the woman mimicked him in a mock-baby tone.

"I'm Darke," he said as darkness fell again.

The woman screamed. Where once bright grey eyes had gleamed, there now lay two black voids.

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