Page 4 of Haunted Prey

She had a wide, split open smile. Not hers.

Not her.

“Don’t go.”

A wave overtook us. I was under, and she was gone. And there was nothing but awful, sick pain.

I gasped and woke up. The pain followed me out of the dream. I lay, staring at a bare white ceiling. Blinking, I took several slow breaths. There were only the sounds of voices outside the room. My ribs throbbed along with my upper back. I felt sluggish, dazed.

Drugged.

No, not this hell again, not the warehouse, not again. I’d kill anyone who touched me. I’d kill them.

I ripped off the IV and the oxygen tube, then lurched into a sitting position, ready to lunge off the bed.

A bell went off, drumming in my head. Faces flooded the room. They surrounded me. If I wasn’t drugged up, I would have smacked them away like flies, but I got dizzy. My stomach churned, sweat breaking out over my body.

They held me down on the bed. Stabbed the IV in me and pumped more of whatever drug they had me on. I wanted to cry and scream, to lash out as if I was that little boy all over again. Scared shitless.

My heart felt like it was going to explode as I slowly lost consciousness. Before the darkness took me, I saw the window on one side of the room, and a tag on one of the nurses that read Victory Hospital.

I went in and out of sleep. I dreamed of my girl. When I awoke, I caught her sitting beside me. Then I blinked and she was gone. My sister, merged now with the smiling woman who once haunted me, would take her place, giving me that trademark creepy-ass grin.

She whispered to me every so often. Just a few words to set me straight.

Dumbass.

Loser.

Degenerate.

I tried to ignore her, taking in the sounds outside instead. Nurses talking, soft footsteps, someone crying.

The lights were dimmed, keeping me in half darkness. Most of the time, I was alone, but every so often, someone came in to check on me.

Once or twice, others came into the room and spoke quietly. I pretended to be asleep while I listened.

“Still no idea,” one said. “Couple construction guys found him on the shoreline with no phone or ID. No tag on his clothes either. We’ll just have to wait.”

“Police might have something.”

“I have an officer coming in this evening, says she will take the statement and might be able to make a confirmation.”

“Good. Hopefully, he doesn’t have another episode before then…”

I opened my eyes, and they were gone. I looked down at myself—a thick strap was over my chest to keep me in place, but I wasn’t handcuffed.

They didn’t know who I was yet.

Lucky for them…and forme.

Too bad I was running out of time. As soon as that cop identified me, I was done for. Shipped off to prison.

I tried to sit up and the room spun even as I lifted my head. They really pumped me hard with whatever drug knocked me out and it was still working on me.

It made me want to vomit, but I took more deep breaths, forcing myself to calm. I needed to get out of here. I needed to find Eve.

I tried lifting myself again but the strap kept me down. I fumbled around to try and unlatch it, then figured I could probably rip it off if I tugged hard enough. I moved my arm across and gripped it tight, ready to break the latch.