Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Monday, February 21, 2011

Flashback Entry 165: Pact With The Devil -Andrew-

"Have you had enough?" This voice was not the hooded man's and yet it was still familiar. I looked up into a face I hadn't seen for a long time. Patrick's.

"What? Why are you here?", I thought I was hallucinating again. The constant torture left my mind shattered, showing pieces of my past that I'd lost a long time ago.

"I'm here to give you a choice." He stood and walked to where the hooded man was standing, "I want you to work for me. If you do, then I can get rid of your pain. I can make you forget all that you've done."

My mind flashed with an image of my daughter, looking up at me with wide eyes, full of curiosity. I shook my head to rid myself of the image. Pain filled my heart, because I knew what I'd done.

"Stop. Please, stop.", I begged Patrick.

"No. You need to know what you did. It's an irreversible sin."

Another flash, of Vincent's family, sleeping peacefully; unaware that I was nearby. Tears came, flooding past the mental barrier I'd put within myself.

"No, it wasn't me. I wouldn't . . ."

"You did. You took your hands," as he spoke the images flooded into my head, "put them around your daughter's neck while she asked you what was wrong. You remember, don't you?!"

"NO! Stop!"

"Her voice broke as you squeezed. You kept squeezing till you'd heard a snap. You killed your daughter, Andrew. Then you killed your friends," Patrick smiled as he leaned down to me, "And you loved it. Even now you can feel the craving for more in you."

He knelt down in front of me, "I can end all this, the torture, the pain; everything. All you have to do is . . . work for me. If you do, then all this will be gone. You can't live like this, Andrew. Let me help you."

I went limp as I remembered all that I'd done. I remembered the feeling of bones breaking, of blood running down my arms. I remembered the look of fear and hatred in their eyes, the confusion. I remembered loving it. I hated myself for that feeling. It haunted my nights, laughing as the whip broke my skin endlessly.

"Okay, I'll work for you."

The pain faded away as my cuts and bruises healed. I could still remember what I'd done but I no longer felt sad about it. It'd given me a high I'd never felt before. I glanced at Patrick as he smiled and released me from my binds. I pulled myself to my feet and felt that irresistible craving again.

The craving for blood.

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