Head Trip

Reads: 164  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
Headtrip

Submitted: February 24, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 24, 2011

A A A

A A A


Head Trip One day a girl named Katie woke up from what felt like a thousand days of sleep. Katie didn’t know where she was or how she got there. She felt the cold grass beneath her body. “Where am I?” she thought bewilderedly. She stood up slowly; as she did a malodorous stench filled her nostrils. She looked around, feeling foundered, holding her nose she saw what seem to be thousands of stalks of corn. She saw a barn in the distance. She had walked most of the way to the barn when she heard a man yell “HELP!” She started walked a little more hastily when she heard a loud bang like a gunshot. When she heard the gunshot she sprinted to the barn. When Katie finally got there, she hesitated “what if he’s… no I can’t think like that” she thought. “He’s alright”. She opened the door believing he was okay. The smell hit her nose and her hands flew to her nose. What she saw was much more than anything could have prepared her for. She yelped and tried to run but ran into the door.

He was dead, His forehead recessed and bloody.

She ran outside and felt her knees buckle. Katie collapsed; the shock of it all was almost too much to bear. “Why did this happen “she thought. “Where am I anyway” the pungent odor of the body was too much. She couldn’t think straight. She stood up dizzily. Barely balanced on her two feet, she turned and looked at the barn.

“Is the shooter still in there?” she pondered. If so she couldn’t go back in. But an explainable something made her long to go back in. Suddenly, clarity came to her. She remembered the body, clearly decayed, flies swarming around it. “He wasn’t killed recently” she thought. Had she imagined the gunshot and the cry for help? It was all so Overwhelming.

She walked around the barn and decided it would be best to look and see what she could find, Maybe a phone or something. Hopefully she didn’t run into another body. She walked in tentatively. She found old, weathered, wooden, moldy spiral staircase with rusted metal rails. She climbed up slowly, the stairs creaked every step she took. She rose ever so slowly to the top. As she did the rail on her right became unhinged and fell about fifty feet and landed with a loud CLUNK to the floor. She looked down at the rail. “OH GOD” she exclaimed. She continued to walk through the barn. The upper floor looked more like a house than anything. Something stood out in the distance. A door with a carving of a winged lion. She got closer to it, she heard panting. She imparted the door with her hand, when she opened it she saw something she couldn’t believe. A boy about fourteen or fifth teen crouching in the corner of the small closet. He looked frail and sick, his hair black and a scar on his face that looked like a lightning bolt. “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice raspy, she didn’t know how to respond, she stared at him openmouthed. She searched her mind for the right words. “What…why not?” “The killer is still…still… in the barn!” “We have to get out then!” said Katie

They ran anyway. They jumped down the stairs, ran through a hall, and out the door. “Follow me!” said the boy “I know a place.” They ran through the cornstalks. The boy had long legs and Katie could barely keep up. Her benefactor was ahead and it was getting harder and harder for Katie to keep up. After awhile Katie couldn’t see him. She grew anxious. “What if I can’t find him!” she thought. Finally, she came to a clearing with some trees. She saw the boy waiting for her. Panting hard, she said “I… thought I…lost… you”. “Follow” he said simply. Leading me back to the house…

? The boy led her back up the neglected Spiral stair case. She stared at his back, unhappy to be back in that house. She winced; the man’s body was still clear in her mind no matter how hard she tried to pry it out of her mind. She tried concentrating on something else. She look at the boys feet and, as they reached the top of the steps, noticed he was limping. “Did the murderer do that to you?” she asked “Something like that” he said mysteriously “What happened then?” “Accident” he said, turning round so I could see his bright green eyes dancing in the light. He was smirking “What?” She asked “Grab her boys” He shouted Suddenly six men came out of the two other doors on that floor, brandishing knives and pistols. She looked at the boy. He was facing toward her a cold look on his face. She knew he was mysterious but not… She gasped. He killed the man! She glanced at his hand, his long fingers stained red with blood. She backed up and the men raised their pistols. Something cold touched the back of her neck. Then she felt the hot, alcohol scented breath wash over. “Don’t move” a hardy voice said in her ear. The six men advanced on her. She was terrified of what they might do. What did they want with her?

She woke with a start. Her room was lit only by moonlight. It took her a moment to realize it had been a dream. And what a dream it was! She turned in her bed to have peek at her clock. 4:52. She reviewed her dream in her head. Before she knew it she was tired again and sunk into dreamless sleep…


© Copyright 2017 Trey Artist. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Thrillers Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Trey Artist

Head Trip

Short Story / Thrillers

Popular Tags