Cannibal Creek by Jon Athan

Author:Jon Athan [Athan, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Welcome to the Family

Jasmine opened her eyes. She vacantly stared at the wooden ceiling, shocked. It wasn't the ceiling of the RV bedroom. She rested on a mattress, but it was rougher than the bed in the camper. Warm sunshine poured into the room from the window to her right. She could hear birds chirping outside, too. It sounded like a tranquil morning. Under the ominous circumstances, however, her awakening was mysterious and horrifying.

The teenager took a deep breath, then she sat up in bed. She didn't recognize the bedroom. Like the ceiling, the wooden floors and walls were dark, dusty, and cracked—dilapidated. There were shelves on the walls, above the old dressers. Moldering novels sat on the shelves. As far as she could tell, none of the novels were published after 1993.

Filmy glass jars sat at the end of the shelves, acting as makeshift book-stops. The jars appeared to be filled with a thick, translucent liquid. Human teeth, long black hair, and several mysterious organs floated in the jars.

Picture frames—some intact, others broken—also clung to the walls. Polaroid photographs were shoved into the frames. The photos depicted young men and women in the woods. Although she wasn't one to label others, she would consider them as 'hillbillies.' She didn't recognize any of them, though.

Jasmine held her hands over her mouth as she glanced around the room, awed. The expression on her face read: where the hell am I? She glanced down at herself. She was relieved to see she was still wearing her pajamas. She hopped off of the bed and lurched towards the window. The glass rattled as she tugged on the window. She couldn't get a decent grip on it. She started panicking, wheezing and weeping.

What if someone kidnapped me? What if I can't get out?–she thought. She was defeated by her wild thoughts. Tears dripped from her eyes as she remembered about the fire. She tugged on the window with all of her might, releasing her frustration. The window screeched as it moved up an inch. She nervously laughed as she shoved her fingers into the gap.

Before she could tug on the window again, Jasmine was struck on the side of the head with a hard object. She fell to the floor, knocked unconscious with a single blow.

Yet again, Jasmine opened her eyes. She blinked erratically, trying her best to clear her blurred vision. She grimaced upon feeling the stinging pain on the side of her head. She wasn't bleeding, but there was a bump under her hair. She indistinctly muttered to herself, slurring her words as drool dripped from her bottom lip like a gooey waterfall.

She stared down at herself, baffled. She sat on a wooden chair. Her arms were tied to the armrests, her shins were tied to the front legs, her thighs were tied to the seat, and her torso was tied to the backrest. The rope was secured, thick and tight. She couldn't stand. She could move her elbows, but she could barely move her legs.

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