Alone in the Dark

A series I started on my blog, but the posts have become a little erratic to follow and find, so I wanted to put them together. Let me know what you think! Title is a work in progress :D

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2. The Blood of Infants

You’re standing at the back of a long line of people. You’re sweating. The bulk of the bundle of joy in your arms jumps and wails excitedly as you edge closer to the water-side, the weight of your belongings on your back ache your neck and shoulders. You’re sweating. It’s a hot day – the heat of the sun beating down on you from above, while the breath and perspiration of the crowd around you only adds to that heat.

 

“Mummy!” cries your child, “Mummy, are we going to be next?”

 

You smile at your baby. You shake your head and softly tell her to be patient. The child huffs, but smiles with the mischief that comes with such a young age. You look up at the sky – the cerulean blue mottled by fluffs of wandering clouds, while the sun shines upon that celestial throne of noon right above your head. There's a warmth inside you, a peace you never thought you'd find. When you close your eyes, your mind is still and silent – like the echoes of the inside of a seashell.

 

“We’re getting closer,” your child says to you, “It’s nearly our turn!”

 

You edge closer as more and more people disappear down the slide and into the depths of a covered swimming pool below. There’s a man there, next to the very top of the slide and he’s waiting for you – for everyone in line. You don’t know why – but you shudder at the sight of him. There’s nothing about him that is so extremely out of the ordinary. He was wearing his work clothes – faded blue denims and shirt, under a waterproof poncho – but something about him made you want to step out of line, to leave the water-slide be. The smile he wore maybe… he had entirely too many teeth for that smile. And those eyes… those beady little eyes filled with an abnormal amount of eager delight.

 

The young mother in front of you plops down the slide with her child like the others and suddenly – it’s your turn. You clutch you baby tighter, some innate calling within you: warning you. The man with too many teeth tilts his head at you, his beady eyes losing their glimmer of delight. His lips become upturned, and those teeth - all those teeth - look all the more menacing.

"Well?" the man says, "Are you going to get your money's worth or no?"

You narrow your eyes at him, and shake your head firmly.

The man stiffens, "There are no refunds."

"That's quite alright," you say, "I've changed my mind about this slide, I don't want to participate."

Your child turns her head to look at you, her bulbous infant eyes beginning to water already, "But, mum..."

The man grins once more, "Your daughter begs to differ," he chuckles.

 

Without warning or hesitation, he rips the child from your grasp. You scream for him to stop, but the crowd hold you back as she's placed onto the slide. Your child calls for you, babbling and mumbling - not truly knowing what was going on. She slides down, down, down - you watched as distance makes her appear smaller and smaller until she's disappeared into the hidden swimming pool below.

You're thrown aside by the crown, tumbling down the side of the hill. Rolling and falling, being hit by the ground again and again, assaulted by the harsh dust and sharp rocks. The pain means nothing to you - you can't feel it. You don't attempt to stop the momentum. All you can here, all you can see - everything that remains of your senses - is the loud buzzing saw at the end of the slide that tore your beloved baby girl to pieces: ensuring that you would never see her again. Even as you stop tumbling; a broken, misshapen heap of a human being - you have no feelings for yourself. Only sight and smell and feel of your baby's blood.

 

_______________________________________

The dreams continue here.

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