In My Dreams by Cameo Renae Page A

soft lips against mine. He was intoxicating and addicting, but before we got carried away, Michael sat back and stared at me. He lifted his eyebrows, breathed in deeply and smiled.
    “It’s time,” he said slowly getting up to his feet and holding his hand out to me. I placed my hand in his and he pulled me to my feet. He grabbed me and pulled me into him, hugging me like he never wanted to let me go. I felt his lips press on my forehead.
    The beautiful blue sky above was steadily changing to a dark gray. I suddenly felt a chill shoot straight down to my bones. The wind began to pick up and within seconds, it was whipping wildly around us. My pulse raced, and I knew our time was drawing to an end. A throbbing pain shot through my head. I wrapped my arms tighter around Michael, and pressed myself against him.
    “Liz,” he said softly.
    I didn’t answer. I was too stuck in my mind, trying to block out whatever was coming.
    “Elizabeth!” he cried out, carefully shaking my shoulders. I looked into his wide, desperate eyes. “Are you with me, Liz?”
    I nodded. I was trembling, not only from the cold, but from the terror that awaited me.
    The sky was steadily becoming a darker gray. The winds whipped around us devastating the once beautiful scenery, tearing it into a black nothingness.
    “You won’t be alone, Liz. Remember, I will be with you,” he promised. His words were slow and sure. “And, remember what I told you. What you need to do. You need to stay focused. Alright?” he yelled over the roaring winds.
    I nodded again and felt him press his lips against mine.
    The wind suddenly became like a cyclone, tearing my grasp from him.
    “No!” I cried. “Michael!” I tried to hold on but I was slipping away.
    “I love you Liz!” he yelled. “Remember! Please remember!”
    My dream was quickly fading.
    “I love you, Michael!” I screamed.
    Fear tore through every part of me, as I was thrust backward into a dark abyss, which swallowed me whole. I suddenly became lost in its darkness.

Chapter 7
     

    I unwillingly woke to my reality. My eyes ached as I tried to open them, and it hurt to focus. I knew I’d just entered my worst, most frightening nightmare. But I was awake. The stench of rotting flesh, feces and trash reeked heavily in my nostrils, intensifying the nauseous feeling I was already having.
    My head throbbed, and everything ached and trembled from the intense cold. I felt dry blood on my face as I squinted to see my surroundings.
    I was lying on an old dirty cot. I couldn’t move. My hands and ankles were bound, and my mouth was taped shut. I looked up over my head. My hands were secured to an old metal-framed bedpost with duct tape… exactly as Michael had said.
    My eyes were swollen and still blurry. I tried hard to focus, and then I saw it… a small rusty piece of metal sticking out, in the back, right, corner of the post. It was again… just as he’d said. I felt the pounding of my heart against my chest.
    I quickly scanned the room, but it was empty. I seemed to be alone. The place looked like a small dilapidated shack, thrown together with scraps of plywood; a third the size of my cottage. Thick globs of sealant were in every crack and crevice; a horrible attempt to keep out the cold.
    Two propane lanterns illuminated the room, and an old TV rested in one of the corners plugged into a generator. In front of the TV sat an old, torn and tattered easy-chair. A moose head was mounted unevenly on the wall; its sad eyes were staring, empathizing with the next victim. Me.
    The kitchen was a small meg-shift counter-top with a sink and a hotplate. A conglomeration of moldy food on paper plates overflowed from a huge black trash bag. Countless empty bags of Doritos, beer cans, and dirty clothes were strewn everywhere.
    I was stuck in the middle of a horror flick where I was the star… the victim. But there were no cameras, no stunt people, no body doubles, no stand-ins, and no director to yell