Leader Of The Pack by Renny Abbas

Author:Renny Abbas [Abbas, Renny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-06T22:00:00+00:00

The End

Special Bonus Story

Violet Rose

Chapter 1

Rough, gunmetal smoke clung to his nose and mouth. He choked and spluttered on it, trying to draw breath. His ears rang with loud, piercing echoes. He couldn’t hear his own coughing. His head was swimming wildly but as he looked around, the world began to right itself. He was on the ground, on his side. His cheek flush against the hot earth and his body spread like shattered glass. As he blinked and attempted to shake the strong ringing sound, he became intensely aware of a burning sensation across his chest, stomach, left arm and thigh. And the more he noticed, the more it burned. Hot, red blood seeped through his now tattered clothes. They’d been ripped and torn by something. And looking down, he saw at the base of his ribs, under his heart, a piece of blackened metal jutting out of his side.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. There was only heat and pain and the ringing. The smoke consumed him and the pain burned him. He felt himself scream. Throat raw, lungs on fire, and mouth open wide. He bellowed out for the pain to stop. For the flames to recede. But he heard nothing. Nothing but the constant ringing. It was too much. The fire. The smoke. He couldn’t take it. He wanted to run but he couldn’t move. His body was littered with white hot flames. All he could do was scream without hearing. Without knowing if anyone was screaming back. He screamed and screamed. And he burned and burned. The flames consumed him finally and darkness took him.

Charlie Atwood bolted upright in bed. Breathing hard, scream dying in his throat. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his bed sheets were tangled around his legs. The images of his dream began to fade, slowly, but the ringing remained, fainter now but still as persistent. He shook his head and ran his hands over his face. He sighed. It had been a while since he’d last had the bad dreams. He hadn’t missed them.

He untangled himself and swung his legs out of bed. Standing, he walked out of his room and into the bathroom. He knew there was no use trying to sleep again now. All that waited for him there was more pain and screaming and he had no desire to go back to that. Instead he turned on his shower radio, then the shower itself, then removed his underwear and stepped under the steady stream of hot water. The sound of it rushing over his head and ears, mixed with that of the garbled early morning radio, was enough for him to tune out the ringing for a little bit. Allowed him to clear his head.

Dotted all over the muscles that rippled across his chest and stomach, were thick purple lines and spots – scars that ran down his left arm and up his left thigh, across his side, chest and stomach, all coming together with one large swathe of scar tissue under his heart.

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