06-10-2015, 04:13 PM
Fitfully Lucas' head twitched, the images in his mind a nightmare he struggled to wake from. It was as if his own memories had been charged with energy, strengthened, modified. Made more potent, if that were possible. Where before he remembered huddling up against a heat vent, the sounds of passersby always keeping him only half asleep, now he was hunted, hiding in a garbage bin, eyes peering through the cracks, seeing the slow deliberate movement of those who sought him out.
Fear threatened to strangle him and his heart pounded in his chest and though he could see the men through the slot directly in front of him, he could also feel them behind him, breath on his neck, ready to grab and squeeze....and then he felt hands around his neck- his own memory- and he couldn't breath, tried to kick behind him, to free the grasp with his hands but nothing was there. It was as if a ghost had closed his throat in its grip and he couldn't break free.
He tried to vomit but the bile in his stomach got stuck and burned his throat and his head pulsated with agony in time to his thunderous heartbeat. He clawed at his throat, trying to tear a hole free, to feel the sweet air enter his lungs, but nothing. His feet drummed and he became crazy with the need, the need for air, for oxygen, for that sweet breath of life that every cell in his body craved until his head clouded and mercifully it seemed he passed out and....
awakened to the old man prodding at him, malevolence in his eyes. Fear bounded inside him and he struggled to get ahold of himself. But those eyes...
Fear threatened to strangle him and his heart pounded in his chest and though he could see the men through the slot directly in front of him, he could also feel them behind him, breath on his neck, ready to grab and squeeze....and then he felt hands around his neck- his own memory- and he couldn't breath, tried to kick behind him, to free the grasp with his hands but nothing was there. It was as if a ghost had closed his throat in its grip and he couldn't break free.
He tried to vomit but the bile in his stomach got stuck and burned his throat and his head pulsated with agony in time to his thunderous heartbeat. He clawed at his throat, trying to tear a hole free, to feel the sweet air enter his lungs, but nothing. His feet drummed and he became crazy with the need, the need for air, for oxygen, for that sweet breath of life that every cell in his body craved until his head clouded and mercifully it seemed he passed out and....
awakened to the old man prodding at him, malevolence in his eyes. Fear bounded inside him and he struggled to get ahold of himself. But those eyes...