fragment(s)
by
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CHAPTER 11
"Is it myself, or something inside me I’m seeing?
I hated what I was; now I hate what it is I’m being.”
John rose up from the bed, and walked down the hallway from his bedroom. Stumbling to the bathroom, he felt as if someone was walking directly behind him, so close in fact that John could feel the coldness of their breath on the very back of his neck. He stopped short of the bathroom doorway and heard a strange sound, almost that of an exaggerated “sigh” being slowly breathed out. The hairs on his neck started to arise, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. Turning quickly, but found nothing behind him, John breathed a sigh himself – one of relief.
Continuing on to the bathroom, his attention was captured by the strange light that shined through the window to the right of his front door. “Must have left the porch-light on”, he mumbled while walking to the toilet to do his business--his full bladder made it be known that this will not wait till the morning.
John moved closer to the door, and pressed his right eye up to the peephole. The fishbowl view showed the front porch bathed in the pale-yellow of the porch-light, but something just beyond the light, in the blackness beyond his front steps seemed to grow. Something was slowly moving up towards the steps. John felt goose bumps rising up both arms, as he felt the hairs on his arms rise, the sensation traveling to the back of his neck and up to the back of his head.
The figure emerged from the darkness, seeming to do large jumping steps one foot at a time. John barely could make out the face of the figure, looked as if it were an expression-less white mask with black holes for eyes, and a totally maroon red jumpsuit--the kind a prisoner would wear.
Terrified, but finding that he could not move away, John watched as the figure jump-stepped up to the door. The figure paused only to press its eye up against the very same peephole John was peering through, filling the view with the blackness of the mask’s eyehole. As John’s heartbeat increased, he again felt coldness on the back of his neck. The same scenario as before in the hallway, he again heard the exaggerated “sigh” being slowly breathed out. John closed his eyes tightly. He felt the presence behind him, as it seemed to reach out and touch his right shoulder and pull him around.
“Wake up” is all he heard as he opened his eyes, seeing Kate’s face as she was lying beside him.
“I had the strangest dream,” he replied.
“It must have been one crazy dream you were having, you kept making a weird sighing noise, actually kinda creepy, is everything ok?” Kate had no idea just how not ok everything was to become, and neither understood the meaning behind the dream.
CHAPTER 19
Formats Book Details A love story (of sorts)… The novel, fragment(s), focuses on a few months in the lives of three individuals that have been drawn together in a series of events. The main characters, John and Kate, are in a relationship which seems to have taken a downturn recently. Kate’s coworker Brian plays the role of the concerned friend—be it concern for her well being, or for his own personal agenda. Communication breakdowns, betrayals, and horrific nightmares/visions plague the two through their final days. In the end, consider his position; what would you have done under the circumstances? This is a dark ride… W.P. Angleton has lived in the mid-southern region of
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