This post is the third of four instalments for the story 'One Guy's Dystopia In A Seemingly Peaceful World'. See the first instalment to this story here, and see the second instalment to this story here.

 

 

 

............ And as if in pity backed away. The buildings that had once looked down on him ready to tear him limb from limb, crawled and writhed back to their posts. Their eyes still fixated on Deans shaking body. Blood, thick and warm trickled down Dean’s neck, but he didn’t care, his eyes were fixated on his surroundings.

 

A dark sickness rose in the pit of his stomach causing him to launch forwards into a world of darkness as his stomach threw out everything it once owned. His throat stinging, he wiped his mouth, his eyes watering as he took in his new surroundings. He was in a room with glowing red lights creating a dark cascade on the far side.
“What the-“ his words were cut off by a door crashing open behind him, he turned expecting to see someone there, waiting for him. But no one was there, a dark corridor was all that lay before him. The cold air was crawling its way out of the corridor sucking the warmth out of the room he was in, his throat dry Dean looked around. He was certain the darkness was getting closer, but maybe it was just his mind playing tricks. After all, buildings coming to life and attacking him, his phone biting his ear, none of that could have really happened? Things like that just don’t exist. Do they? Dean could feel the panic in the back of his mind trickling through his body, his palms sweating, his knees shaking. He couldn’t control it now, his heart was racing and his mind was spinning. What he had once thought impossible was possible.                  
“Pull yourself together Dean,” he muttered shaking his head. The corridor was beckoning him, as if some force was pulling him like a magnet towards it. He took one step forward…

 

“Wake up! Sir, Wake up!” A voice shouted, a hand tugged on Dean’s shoulder pulling him back into his reality. He was in Birmingham, as he turned his head he felt the dry blood pull at the hairs on his neck. Wincing he looked around himself, the city was burning. A man sat on his heels his dark eyes penetrating Deans.
“Gave us a scare then, friend,” his voice had a tint of an accent Dean couldn’t quite place. But while he was eager to know who this new person was, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the figure that hovered above them in the sky. The city was burning. Getting to his feet, slowly and with the help of the man, Dean put a hand to his head. He was still bleeding.

 

“My phone –“
“It’s gone, it scurried off when they all went back to normal,” the man gestured to the buildings, his face blank as he returned Deans stare.
“But my mom-“
“Won’t have any idea,” was his short reply as he began to walk away.
“But-“
“Are you coming?”
“Who are you?” Dean asked. The man paused in his step...........

 

 

 

Writers' Relay 1 | Post 3

Writer: Shannon Birch

Profile:  Shannon Birch, is a sixth form student at Colmers Sixth Form, and 17 years of age. Studying History, English, Biology and Psychology and planning to go into Sport Science at University to become a PE Teacher. Shannon has also cycled the length of Britain (1067 miles) for Gold Duke of Edinburgh.
Shannon is an aspiring writer, and has had 2 short stories published in magazines. She is currently working on her first novel which has taken her four years to create, write, edit... and write a bit more. Finally, she is a current member of Fourth Wall: Northfield and a fantastic actress!

 

Are you a budding 'artpreneur'? Entrepreneur in the making, with arts- based skills? Click here for more details.

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