(Continues from Scent of Trouble)
My brain flashed back to the dagger and the dread coiling in my guts sinking me to the rocking floor. It was the only object I could interact with in a physical manner. And I’d chased the creeps looking for it. Could it destroy me?
My cell dropped interrupting my thoughts. Slamming into the ground, it rolled. I bounced around until remembered I was a ghost. I could float, so I did. No harm done though. Cracks tracked up the walls.
Hello daylight my old friend,
I’ve come to talk to you again.
I looked through a crack at the end,
stared at a pile of silent shells.
Matte black to absorb the sound,
with shiny insides to confound.
On them my unlife did depend,
and fates forfend that a friend–
should happen by at the end.
Silence cups my cell,
broken by the knell,
and the crackling of a spell.
Before I could seep through the crack, laughter crawled in and my illusory skin tried to crawl up my backbone. Something foul reached in but I dodged its clawed hand. Steel-tipped fingers gripped a chunk of concrete and ripped it out. Chanting mixed with the shrieks of seagulls and the distant chiming of slot machines. I breathed in the salt air and shook my head. I’d been abducted and dropped on the shores of Atlantic City. What a place to end my unlife.
For OctPoWRiMo, 31 poems in 31 days–all part of one story. Watch me do it.
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