Twisted by Michaelbrent Collings

Author:Michaelbrent Collings [Collings, Michaelbrent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Thriller, Suspense
Goodreads: 24234926
Publisher: Michaelbrent Collings
Published: 2014-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

TOUCHES THROUGH TIME

Some things move slowly.

Some things move slowly because they must gain power, gain strength before they move.

Some things move slowly because they savor the game. The pain and the fear felt are as much to be enjoyed as the final moments where understanding enters and life departs.

And some things move slowly because it is simply the way it must be.

Whichever is true here, in this time and at this place, the waiting is over. The time for slow movement has passed.

Things will move fast now. Fast and fast and so fast that the blur will be all that can be seen and all that is real. Simple confusion, simpler pain.

The baby cries, for it senses what is so close.

The woman leaves, sent away by those same cries.

The boy sits on the floor. The beautiful boy, so young, so familiar.

And the man sits alone. Sits vulnerable.

Soon even he senses that there is something amiss. Things have drawn closer and closer, have taken more and more of him. He is becoming sensitive, though he may fight what is happening; though he may deny the truth of who he is, and what he will be.

But the time has come. The time is here.

The man makes a few jokes, but finally stands.

As he does, a hand reaches out.

It is said that time and space matter little to some things. Neither is a true statement. Time matters greatly. It passes slowly, each minute an eternity. A forever without the ability to follow desire, to slake thirsts that first ache, then anguish, then agonize.

And space matters, too. For space is the means of finding. Space can be folded, can be manipulated.

The time is now. The man feels how close It is, because It is below him. Space has folded, and what would have taken up the volume of a body in a time before can now curl into places much smaller.

This is part of why some things move slowly: time and space must come together, must intertwine in a way that allows both to curl in on one another. Then and now, below and above. The small and the large, the things that last and those that are ephemeral as a candle in a hurricane.

The man stands. But in the instant that he does, a hand reaches out. It reaches from a place below, beside. It seems to come from the couch upon which the man was seated, but also from somewhere else. A place beyond the ability of any to see. Perhaps the baby could see it, were it placed in the right position. No one else.

Certainly not the man.

So the man stands, and the hand brushes against him. Grazes his hip with a glancing touch that is nearly a caress.

It is not much. Almost nothing.

But in the barest of contacts, the merest of moments, time and space curl. Then and now, here and there. All come together, all begin to merge and will soon become fully one.

Before the man has fully stood,

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