|sam evans ( werewolf ) . (tamest) wrote in light_of_may,|
@ 2015-02-16 17:04:00
|Entry tags:||2009-10-15, jo, sam|
deep into the darkness where i hide the monsters are buried down deep inside.
Who: Sam and Jo.
Where: The Summers House.
When: Early morning.
The DVD player had long since switched itself off and the TV showed nothing but a quiet field of desaturated static, casting a pale light across the room in the early morning before the sun had even risen all the way above the horizon. On the coffee table in front of the couch were various snacks, a couple of glasses and a few soda cans, remnants of a night spent indulging in entertainment and various foods that had little in the way of nutritional value. The remote had fallen on the floor at some point. The cases for the movies they had watched were stacked haphazardly down in front of the entertainment unit, the last one they’d been watching before sleep had taken them both still popped open and left sitting at a strange angle atop all the others.
When consciousness started to return it was with a quiet wash of confusion that it did so, the feeling that something about where he was wasn’t right, and it was that creeping doubt that had him opening his eyes and blinking to try and clear the sleep from them, moving to lift one arm to try and dispel the grogginess before he realised he wasn’t alone. At some point during the night his companion had slouched against him completely and they had fallen asleep that way. With a single glance Sam knew it was Jo, her short hair was a little ruffled but unmistakable and her scent was so unique and so familiar that he would know it anywhere.
For several seconds he remained exactly where he was, trying to figure out what was wrong because something was. His other arm was free, he realised, and it was that he lifted to swipe at his face but he stopped halfway. There were scars on his arm. What he could see of the other one had the same sorts of scars. Abruptly and without warning Sam’s mind’s eye was filled with sharp teeth and snapping jaws, the echoes of snarls and howls rolled hauntingly in his ears. Mountains, trees, blood and balled fists, raucous laughter and cruel jeering. Sam’s breath caught harshly in his throat and fear struck him with the force of a freight train.
This was wrong. All wrong. They might find him like this. If they found him they would be mad. They would punish him.
When Sam moved it was suddenly but carefully, trying not to jostle Jo unduly but desperate to get distance between them because he had no right to be so close to her, he had no right to share space with her at all and if he didn’t get away the consequences would be terrible. In his haste he all but fell from the couch, knocking the edge of the coffee table in the process but not so hard that it toppled either of the glasses resting upon its surface. When he got his feet under him they were bare and the kitchen floor was cold against his skin as he made his way hurriedly towards the door leading out to the yard.
Out. Get out. Outside was the best place for him. It was still dark, dawn hadn’t yet broken properly but he could see well enough without the light of the sun, his vision narrowing in dizzying waves as the panic rolled over him. Sam couldn’t remember how to breathe. His lungs felt so small, his throat closing up, and without even feeling it Sam dropped to one knee in the damp grass with his head bowed and his hands down against the ground as he fought for air that he just couldn’t get.