Hunted: Prologue

Good evening you guys!

Man I have missed creative writing Wednesday’s – for those of you who don’t live inside my head , that is what I have nick-named the day of the week that I choose to bore you with my creative writing shenanigans.

For the first couple months of the year I posted my book, Discovering Wonderland, and now that I have given you all time to absorb that I am posted another book I have written!

Remember to let me know if you like these works, share them, and comment below. I aspire to have a book published one day and the only way to grow it by constructive criticism, feedback, and getting my name out these.

Without further ado…

 

 

HUNTED

 

Prologue: 

I am having trouble breathing, like I am literally white knuckling my steering wheel at ten and two, and not breathing. I am holding air inside my lungs and inside my mouth so that my already round cheeks look like a puffed out blow fish. 

The semi-circles my wipers are making in my windshield does little, if anything, to make the snow ease off. So instead I am leaned forward as much as I can be, squinting out into the black snow-globe my headlights are creating. I am also going twenty miles under the speed limit, costing along, terrified. 

My radio starts to static and the whistle the wind is making dances inside my Oldsmobile. There is a hammering in my chest, a quick succession of beats that make my breathing even shallower. My head is pulsating, a dizzying headache because I am concentrating so hard. 

“Ugh…Len, I’m gonna be sick.” Juliet moans from where she is slouched in my passenger seat. She clenches her stomach and rolls her head back and forth on the headrest, eyes closed. 

My right blinker tics like a loud clock as I pull over to the side of the freeway. The wind picks up pace and Lil’ Ol’ Maybelle starts to rock back and forth. 

Juliet groans again and I pop up my hood as she stumbles out of the car and into the snow covered ground. I get out too and walk around the front of the car to help her. She is already vomiting so I kneel beside her and hold her hair out of the way. My knees are quickly burning with the cold. The headlights on Maybelle are shining brightly and we are lingering just outside of their perimeter. We both have a green hue but Juliet’s is much worse. A sickly pale with red rimmed eyes, she also reeks of alcohol. 

After she heaves out her insides, Juliet folds herself into my arms, I rub her back and tell her that it is going to be ok. 

“Three years,” She sobs, “Well…almost three years…how could he do this to me?” Her face is on my shoulder and I stroke her hair. 

Juliet and I have been best friends since I beat her at the statewide spelling bee. We were the last two, she spelled: S-P-A-G-E-T-T-I, I spelled: S-P-A-G-H-E-T-T-I, if I had known back then that that remembering the H in spaghetti would give me the life-long title of Lenny Bee I would have forgotten it too. Juliet has always been the clever one, being smart and clever is a dangerous combo. Me? I’m just smart. I made it to regionals and eventually took the title as the country’s best speller for my age group. Dad was thrilled, mom was embarrassed, and Juliet was relived. No one really wanted that title or to be stuck with it all throughout their school career. 

“It’ll be alright.” I whisper in her ear. “Come on, you can sleep in the backseat. We are only a half hour from home.” I walk her to Maybelle’s backseat and help her lay down on her side. This isn’t legal or safe but I felt it was necessary. If only to relieve my own guilt. I was the reason Jax broke up with her, I was the reason for her pain, I was the other girl he mentioned during The Talk. Juliet didn’t know yet, I told him I wanted to be the one to tell her. Now wasn’t the time, though.

Popping open my trunk I grab the blanket I keep in their for emergencies such as these. The sharp air is burning holes in my cheeks and constricting my chest. Not to the mention that I am shivering violently from the cold and I am soaked all way to my under garments. I walk back to the backseat and cover an already passed out Juliet with the blue plaid fleece. Rubbing my hands together I start to trek my way back to the drivers seat. 

Something smacks my face, hard. Drops of blood cover the snow and I bring my hand to my nose to catch the gush. What the hell? My eyes dart in every direction, up, left, right, behind me, and finally down to the ground. I bend over and pick up and small tree branch and the look up to find that I parked a couple feet away from a tree. 

“Figures.” I mumble, getting smacked by a tree branch in the middle of a snow storm has got to be my penance. Getting in my seat I lean over to grab some napkins out of the dashboard. 

I was holding a wad up to my noose with my head tilted back when a tap-tap-tap sounded my window. I wanted to scream but I was too shell-shocked. Who would be tapping on my window? In the middle of the night? During a snowstorm? On the side of a deserted freeway? 

I unroll the window, Maybelle is a 1959 so everything is manual. With the window open only two inches I say, “Yes?” 

“Ma’am are you alright? I was driving by and saw that you had your hazards on.” I peer up at him. It’s hard to distinguish his features in the dim glow my headlights and he is wearing a black beanie pulled very low and he has his hood on over it. The man looks bulky, either that or he is wearing a lot of layers. 

My lips press together in a fake polite smile, “I’m fine thanks.” The whistle of the wind howls through the crack in the window and Maybelle creaks violently. The static of the radio suddenly gets louder and I nearly jump out of my skin. 

“You don’t seem fine.” He says. 

Something doesn’t seem right, my gut is pinwheeling, while my heart is rattling inside its cage. I don’t say anything, instead I reach for my phone in my purse and press 911, just in case. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” I say dismissively and start to roll up my window. 

The man grabs my window with his fingers and pulls down, causing a nail-on-chalkboard   sound. “I was only trying to be polite. Help you, no need to get hasty.”

His voice is a low growl, and he is wearing the kind of gloves that don’t have fingers. He didn’t have any of his fingernails, as if he continued to rip them off, in place of his nails was battered wrinkled flesh. Somehow this creeped me out even more. The thud of my heart was growing louder in my ears. 

“Sorry, sir, but I best be on my way.” I smile again and start to press on my gas, when the car dies. I try to start it again but no such luck. 

The hell?

“Looks like you need help after all, sweetie.” He leans his face into the crack in my window, the crack that was made bigger by his meaty fingers. 

I swallowed, fear enveloping me. I reach in my purse and press the green button that sends out a call. I already dialed 911. 

“911 wants your emergency?” The operator says. 

“Umm…I would like…” My voice cuts short when I see the barrel of a gun poking through my window. 

“I would hang up if I were you, sweet girl.” The man says as he peers through the window. I still couldn’t make out the details of his face but I could see he was missing a couple teeth and had eyes that looked blacker then the night. 

I dropped the phone inside my purse with a shaky hand. 

“Open the door.” He demands. When I don’t move to unlock the door and let him in he shoots the gun through the window, spraying me with shards of glass. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs now, more scared then I ever have been before. 

“What’s going on?” Juliet asks sitting up, still drunk and dazed. However, despite her inebriated state of mind, it only takes her seconds to process what is happening. 

The man grins as he sees her, reaches his hand in through my window and unlocks the doors. “You sure are pretty, prettier then your friend over here.” He says opening the door to the back seat. Juliet scrambles as far away from him as she possibly can, all while screaming. The man, now inside the car, grabs her by her ankles and forces her to lay down on her back. She starts kicking, thrashing, and say “no” over and over again. The man presses his gun to her forehead. “I’ll be good to you I promise, I’ll make it good for you, sweetie.” Then his mouth is on top of hers, she tries to turn away but he holds her face still with his free hand. 

I am frantic. Completely confused and horrified. How is this happening?

My shock wears off when I hear the sound of Juliet’s tights rip and the sobs escaping her throat. Nononononononono!!!! I don’t know what to do but there is no way I am going to let him…I can’t even think it…NO! God, no this isn’t happening!

I find my purse and dig around for the pocket knife my dad makes me carry. 

“What do you think you are doing?” The man hisses. I look up and find the man pointing his gun at me. He is already out of pants, erect. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to make this nightmare go away. My hand finds the knife and I flip it open inside my purse. Without thinking I hurl the knife at him as quickly as I can. It lands in his forearm. Without flinching the man rips the knife out of his arm and says, “I wouldn’t have done that.” Then he shoots, it goes through my shoulder and into the dash. The pain is blinding, throbbing and relentless. Their are spots in my vision and it takes me a minute to blink away the discomfort. 

Once my eyes have focused I see that the man is already inside of Juliet, whose head is held straight by his firm grip. Tears are streaming down her face as she bobs back and forth with his movements. He is groaning, as if this is the most erotic night of his life. I look down and see the bloodied knife on the seat. The knife he tossed to the side when he ripped it out of his arm. This time when I grab it and take aim, I go for his neck. He sees me coming at him and turns his head, the knife then goes directly through his cheek. He grabs my wrist and roars. 

He aims the gun at me again and I lower my eyes to Juliet who is sobbing uncontrollably. I am sure I am too but my mind and body are in altered state of being, and I am unable to fully process what is happening. 

“I love…” I start to say to Juliet but then the world turns into a kaleidoscope. I see reds twisting into blues, greens circling with yellows, then back to red, before the chaos of  the colors darkens to black.    

 

**************************

Please note that this has been published as short by Z Publishing House. I wrote under the name LaBrie James and if you are interested in reading more shorts click here.

Also IF you want me to post chapter one next week PLEASE comment below.

Thank you so much =D

15 thoughts on “Hunted: Prologue

  1. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter One | Barebone Revival

  2. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Two | Barebone Revival

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  4. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Four | Barebone Revival

  5. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Five | Barebone Revival

  6. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Six | Barebone Revival

  7. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Seven | Barebone Revival

  8. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Eight | Barebone Revival

  9. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Nine | Barebone Revival

  10. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter 10 | Barebone Revival

  11. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Eleven | Barebone Revival

  12. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Twelve | Barebone Revival

  13. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter Thirteen | Barebone Revival

  14. Pingback: HUNTED: Chapter 14 | Barebone Revival

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