FICTION : Remember Her Name

FICTION : Remember Her Name


So I woke up in a strange room, in a strange bed, next to a strange girl. I check my watch but it seems to have stopped, can’t find my phone, think to look out the window to get my bearings but there isn’t one.
I slowly slide out of the bed so as not to wake her, find my clothes on the nightstand and nod back to her and open the door. A rattle and then a hurricane noise as thousands of plastic baby heads roll out and crash onto the floor. Okay, I think, maybe she is an artist and works with these things, it is not that strange, right? I concentrate on finding the right door. Two to choose from, fifty fifty, I suddenly imagine them having those damn crafty knockers like in fantasy movies. “Which door would your friend here tell me to take?” I laugh quietly, we are in the real world now, Skywalker! Choose the left door. I turn it slowly, it opens onto nothing. No, I don’t mean it is empty or a dead end, I mean it is nothing. Like someone has painted over life’s lens with a black brush, I’m not getting out this way, which only leaves one way.
I look back at the sleeping girl, dyed black hair and the palest of skins. I certainly did well, even if I now have no idea where I am. Still got it, chump.
Blow her a kiss from the doorway and open the door to leave. I feel the first knife go in instantly, then it is followed by the quick one-two sting of another pair of weapons. By the time the twentieth slides through my skin like a butter knife, I feel the life begin to drain from me. I look back helplessly and notice that she is not asleep anymore. She slithers towards me, seductively, turns my face towards hers and whispers with a touch of venom. “You will remember my name…It is DEATH.”
Last thing I heard before everything went black one final time.


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