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Szerző: Krupanicsné Nagy Katalin @ 2020. január 1. - 21:21 :: 1516 megtekintés :: Angol

Rescue Mission

By: Titanilla Papp & Petra Rubint

   “ ... It has been two months since the disappearance of two sixteen-year-old girls who went missing in the Churchisle Forest, also known in public as the ‘Forbidden Forest’. […] Authorities are giving up hope on cracking the ‘Michael Myers’ case. Is there a possibility that actual ghosts lurk in said woods or someone is playing a very good Halloween trick on the citizens of Little Falls? …”

-  Source: Sun Times

 

  Jorel threw the newspaper on the old, wooden table. He stood up, grabbed his pistol and it’s case out of the drawer, clipped it onto his belt and off he went, trying to put an end to the massacre that is the ‘Michael Myers case’.
  The pine trees stood in silence, looming over the guy, painting their dark silhouettes on him and the crimson sky. Soft flakes of snow fell from above, landing on his head and sticking onto his hair. The white blanket made soft crunching sounds underneath his boots, leaving deep footprints behind.
His thoughts were running wild. Where could this killer be, why are they doing this, what motivates them, where is their hiding spot, where do they finish off their victims... Just where?
These chains of questions were interrupted by a little, velcro kids’ shoe, cemented into the half melted and refrozen snow. Jorel’s foot was caught in it, sending him falling, face down into the half-firm, white ground. There was a sound behind him. Snow softly crunching under someone else’s foot. He snapped his head back up, searching for the source of the noise. But there was nothing. Not a single soul around, except him.  He quickly stood up, stumbling forward a bit. He looked around again. There were footprints that weren’t his. Those were two sizes bigger. He started following the path set by the anonymous footprints. Clothing items were thrown around, almost all of them covered with snow and dirt. Some splattered with a worrisome, brownish liquid with a hint of deep red. They were everywhere. On trees, speared through by branches and twigs, caught up in the mass of needle-like leaves.
Jorel’s stomach twisted of the sight. He knew something wasn’t right. His instincts screamed “TURN BACK! RUN!”, his legs started feeling heavy, desperately trying to pull him back. He thought about going home and leaving it all, but he remembered the news article. He can’t stop now, he’s so close. To the solution or his death? Fate will decide.
Then.. There was something. A small, child hand, sticking out of the snow. The little fingers painfully bent in unhealthy directions, just as it was trying to hold onto something. It was pale, frostbitten, maybe blue even. And the worst part, it wasn’t alone. A sea of dismembered body parts were scattered around in the white blanket, small, bloody bits sticking out, just like rocks. A limb there, a torso in the base of a pine tree. A head with emptily gaping eye sockets next to Jorel’s boots. 
Jorel went completely pale, as a sheet of paper, covering his mouth with his hands. No. This is not okay. This is really not okay. He turned around and started running. This was the end of his calmness.
Something pulled him back. Jorel plummeted into the snow.
- Well, well, well... Look who it is. – Nick snickered, bending above his prey.
- You mothe- - Jorel snapped, but Nick silenced him.
- Shut your filthy mouth. We have an audience. – Said the taller male. Jorel blinked at him for a couple seconds, then laughed nervously.
- You’re insane.
- You are naïve. And teachers don’t like cussing. – Nick smiled. There was something twisted and dark in that grin. Something that Jorel had never seen before.
The blond-ish man grabbed Jorel’s hair and yanked him up. He hissed in pain, his legs still shaking, just like a new-born baby sheep. Nick started pulling him towards a small, wooden cabin. The house was small, warm, friendly light seeped out, onto the porch. Jorel tried to escape. Punching, biting, scratching, but nothing worked. Campbell didn’t stop or even flinch. Soon, his victim stopped. He gave up. Jorel looked around, accepting his defeat. Then, he saw it. Two girls, lying in the snow, partially covered, hugging eachother. Both frozen in place, shot through the heart, their faces showing fear and sorrow.
Nick pushed Jorel in front of them.
- Look at them. How cute and loving. Those who you came looking for, became your doom.
Jorel slowly looked at Nick, pathetically dragging himself back from him. After gaining enough distance, he stood up and started running. Nick just watched. Smiling.
The guy kept running. He wanted to get out of this nightmare as soon as possible. If he doesn’t get out, God knows what will hap- BANG!
Jorel fell on the ground, unconscious.
 ________________________

Jorel jerked awake, a fearful scream leaving his mouth. He looked around, then sighed.
- Just a bad dream..
- It must have been a really bad nightmare.- Nicolas said in a monotone voice, sitting on a chair beside Jorel’s bed.

 

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