Friday, April 6, 2012
(My theme is an on-going story, each chapter title being a word starting with the day's letter of the alphabet. The word will either be used in the tale itself, or I'll use some form of its definition. Happy reading and thanks for stopping by! ~Jen)
Before Imogene could question Val about what she meant by "wrong time", an odd noise caught their attention. It sounded like someone hissing, a wheezing, Voldemort of a sound that made Imogene's skin crawl and Val's shoulders stiffen.
"Situation has changed." Val whispered into what looked like a hat pin. "I'm bringing her now."
"What? Bringing me? Where?" Imogene backed away from Val, shaking her head.
"I'm not asking your permission. I'm telling you, either you leave now, with me, or you face the Reanimated on your own."
"The what?" The way Val said Reanimated made Imogene's skin crawl even more than the hissing which, by the way, was getting louder. "I can't."
Val's glance said she didn't care. "Anything you can't possibly live without?"
Val pulled on a pair of leather gloves. Imogene later recalled that they were the color of a camel and looked very expensive. At the moment, however, she was looking frantically around her second story bedroom for a way of escape.
Something in Val's hand was glowing and all at once the air became thick and clammy. Imogene screamed as Val became insubstantial, transparent; she screamed louder when she did the same. Just as Val disappeared in a silent supernova, just as the hissing produced a cloud of noxious gas, just as Imogene herself lit up with the intensity of an about to blow street light, she grabbed the one thing she knew she could never live without.
A picture. A sepia photograph of her father sitting painfully erect with an enormous dog at his feet. In spidery handwriting across the bottom was one word "Frizzgig". Imogene had just enough time to gasp as a crowd of the black clad figures oozed into her room and she saw her reflection in the mirror vanish in violent shade of red.
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