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Running
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Literature Text
There was a sharp pinch as the bevel of the needle pierced Paul's flesh. He winced in pain as he watched the tiny scrap of metal slowly glide into his arm. Maybe it was the dim light that glinted off of it, maybe it was the fact that a foreign object was now embedded in his skin, or maybe it was the way Maya's hands moved with such deftness and skill: one thought permeated Paul's mind. And it was to run.
As Maya's thumb came down on the plunger Paul jerked his arm away, wrenching the syringe out or her hand. She sat back in alarm as he pulled the needle out and gripped his arm. "What the hell?" said the red-head as her eyes seemed to faze from their deep blue to black.
"Don't touch me." Paul's voice trembled.
"Excuse me?" she asked, rising. Her presence seemed to tower over him, and Paul felt a nervous feeling settle into his bones.
"I-I...No needles. I don't need the Proxitol."
She laughed and stepped forward as he took a step back. "You're delusional. The symptoms are progressing; I'm trying to help you get better."
That thought again: Run. It was like a tiny voice, clear and resounding, working its way through static. As each minute passed it seemed to get louder. Paul gripped his head.
"The effects of the Proxitol are waning," said Maya as she opened a small tackle box that say by the examiner's table that Paul had just inhabited. "You need another dose." She pulled out another syringe and plunged it into a small vial, drawing out the liquid within.
She primed the syringe and then looked pointedly at him. "Come back, and sit down." she commanded.
"Don't you hear that?"
"What?"
"T-that noise!" Paul yelled as he clutched his ears. The noise was so vast that it seemed to radiate through him and when he drew his hands away from his head he noticed that his fingertips were tinged with red.
"Side effects. It's taking root." Maya said as she stepped up to him.
A voice: Run!
Just as Maya raised her hand, the needle ready, Paul grabbed her and threw her to the ground. As she fell her head collided with the edges of the metal examiner's table. There was a faint splash, of iridescent colors. After a few moments, Maya got up.
Half the skin of her face was hanging off, and Paul watched as it curled and twitched until it had stitched itself back together.
Run.
As Maya's thumb came down on the plunger Paul jerked his arm away, wrenching the syringe out or her hand. She sat back in alarm as he pulled the needle out and gripped his arm. "What the hell?" said the red-head as her eyes seemed to faze from their deep blue to black.
"Don't touch me." Paul's voice trembled.
"Excuse me?" she asked, rising. Her presence seemed to tower over him, and Paul felt a nervous feeling settle into his bones.
"I-I...No needles. I don't need the Proxitol."
She laughed and stepped forward as he took a step back. "You're delusional. The symptoms are progressing; I'm trying to help you get better."
That thought again: Run. It was like a tiny voice, clear and resounding, working its way through static. As each minute passed it seemed to get louder. Paul gripped his head.
"The effects of the Proxitol are waning," said Maya as she opened a small tackle box that say by the examiner's table that Paul had just inhabited. "You need another dose." She pulled out another syringe and plunged it into a small vial, drawing out the liquid within.
She primed the syringe and then looked pointedly at him. "Come back, and sit down." she commanded.
"Don't you hear that?"
"What?"
"T-that noise!" Paul yelled as he clutched his ears. The noise was so vast that it seemed to radiate through him and when he drew his hands away from his head he noticed that his fingertips were tinged with red.
"Side effects. It's taking root." Maya said as she stepped up to him.
A voice: Run!
Just as Maya raised her hand, the needle ready, Paul grabbed her and threw her to the ground. As she fell her head collided with the edges of the metal examiner's table. There was a faint splash, of iridescent colors. After a few moments, Maya got up.
Half the skin of her face was hanging off, and Paul watched as it curled and twitched until it had stitched itself back together.
Run.
Odyssey II: Chapter Four Submission
© 2012 - 2024 DWPunk
Comments4
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It's good. It's really fun to read. Except nothing much happens through the whole chapter (which has been bothering me with all the chapters that have been picked so far, except chapter 2, so it may be a good sign). Also, I feel that more of Maya's motives could've been revealed. Since the biggest question right now is kind of: What the hell does she want? Is she just an altruist or what? These are my two cents.
By the way, you have a typo in "... she opened a small tackle box that *say* by the examiner's table ...". Should be "sat", I think. I suggest to fix it after the winner has been picked, so you don't get disqualified over the late edits.
By the way, you have a typo in "... she opened a small tackle box that *say* by the examiner's table ...". Should be "sat", I think. I suggest to fix it after the winner has been picked, so you don't get disqualified over the late edits.