PureVolume

Short story

Short story


I was short of breath as I ran down the long narrow street. My surroundings were blurry but I could tell that the Alley way was some how alive. Where am I? I could hear the rapid footsteps behind me, but there was something else with it. Something was being dragged across the jagged street, somethings flesh was being torn as it screamed in agony. I ran for my life. Then there was a door, I opened it with the hope that someone inside would be able to help me. I stepped in a room that was decorated with Christmas ornaments and ribbons everywhere. There was a fire in the fire place and a tree near the window..Right under the tree was a little boy playing with the fingers of his dead father. The boy looked up at me with such a calm insincere face. How could this child just sit here as his father lied dead?
I quickly turned around and headed towards the door, and as I opened it I found myself stepping into another room. "Did I take the wrong door?" I thought, but then I turned around to find that the door I just exited was locked, so I looked around.

Apparently I had stepped into a hospital of some sort, but I didn't see any patients or doctors. I began to walk around and ventured into the hallway to find what seemed like a doctor sitting in a wheelchair. Then out of no where patients busted out of rooms and began to tear away at his flesh as he just sat and laughed in delight. I screamed in horror and turned to find another exit. I lunged through a door and found a snow covered street. There were kids on this street, and they were playing cheerfully. It was a sight I welcomed with warm tears. Until the kids each turned to me. Suddenly they weren't just kids, but their faces were mutated and their bodies were distorted. They walked towards me and howled as if I were causing them pain. So I ran pass them with invigorating fear for my life, and for my sanity. I busted down a door to another person's house to find my father.... My father was holding his head in his lap as the skin on his arms began to slowly burn and regrow and burn again. At first I started to scream, then vomit from the horrible smell of melt skin, but then he called to me. "Wait son...I have some news for you." "Where am I?!" I screamed wanting answers. "Your dead son, and this is the path to hell."

"No..... it can't be" I whispered... "Oh but it is..but it is... see being in our family business isn't exactly morally safe. We were dealers. The little boy you saw playing with his fathers dead hand, that was his personal hell, that you helped create. You sold his father the drugs and you sold him the gun. His father beat him, and molested him in his intoxicated stupor, and he went looking for a way to protect himself. You sold him the gun, and shot his dead then shot himself." He said. "THATS NOT MY FAULT" I screamed. "No but it could have been prevented.. Then there is the doctor, oh you remember him" he said. Then I began to remember my prime business partner, he found patients that couldn't afford the medicine they needed, or prescribed ones who didn't need medicine, and then when they couldn't afford it he sent them to me and we split the profits. As if my dad was reading my mind he answered "Exactly....he made his life's fortune feeding off of sick people, and now he is spending his eternity with sick people feeding off of him." "Then there are those children who chased you here, they are called ash children. They are the embodiment of possibility that died with every stillborn or aborted baby from crack heads you supplied." he told me this all as his skin seared and regrew. "Then there is me, oh don't worry my son. My being here isn't you fault, but your being here is mine. I am going to suffer with this burning for all eternity and now with the sight of you going to your hell too."

Then as if the words he spoke were just a cue four large hands grabbed hold of me and began to drag me across the jagged street, tearing my flesh as I screamed in agony, watching myself run for my life....

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