The Rapture

THREE

PEARL

I wasn't sure if I was asleep or awake.

Metallic clanking and thumps were indistinguishable from my dreams and bitter reality. My brain couldn't understand or concentrate on any stimuli—even my own thoughts were far too much, turning everything audible and physical into a lump of clay. Molded, pressed together.

I was lying on something cold. Maybe metal? As I focused on the chill to ground me, the odd noises went away. All that was left was a low, steady hum.

I fought through the mess in my head, trying to figure out what transpired before the now. A sharp pain blossomed from the top of my neck into my skull. My hand flitted to my head, rubbing the offending sharpness.

There was shuffling. Then it stopped.

I'm not alone.

I opened my eyes. My lashes muted the bright light filling the space, but they still burned like hellfire. I closed them again, letting them rest as I took in clean, deep gulps of air. I felt like someone had tossed me into a washing machine with a couple of bricks.

"Pearl."

I frowned. My name. Said with that voice...

It was velvet, deep, and close by. I put my hand to my forehead. My pulse hammered in my veins, pounding in my aching head.

"Can you hear me?"

There it was again, that voice. Laced with a deep baritone. I didn't realize I was biting my lip until I tasted pennies. I cleared my raw, scratchy throat and spoke. "Fuck."

What I meant to say was I'm here, but I guessed that worked, too. I wanted to open my eyes, but they burned in my sockets along with my skull. "Whad'ya want?"

No response. My words were sort of slurred. Was it hard to understand me?

There was pressure on my left wrist; it felt like fingers. They were warm and calloused, like that of a worker.

"Give me a minute to open my eyes." I licked my dry lips, but it did little to help. My tongue felt like sandpaper. "My head hurts somethin' fierce. Ouuuuuuch."

More shuffling.

Then I heard only what could be described as the most terrifying sound ever.

It was abrasive, close, and booming, like the rumble of an oncoming stampede, but with tones. Almost like words, but somehow... not. A rush of fear sent me curling into a ball as I tried to shield myself from it. My eyes flew open.

I was on a metal table in a brilliant white room with nothing on the walls. The floor was much the same; white, clean. I tried to make sense of my surroundings, but my eyes were still blurry, like I was seeing underwater. Disorienting.

When the sound grew louder, I decided to heck with this, and scrambled off the table. I ducked underneath it, bringing my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself. What the hell was that?

I was not alone; there were people, because there were pairs of shoes. One pair, two pairs, three pairs... I swallowed as I counted.

The noise couldn't have been them, could it? There had to be something else in the room, something that ate flesh or needed to be splashed with holy water, because that noise was horrifically frightening. I searched around for some kind of exit, but I couldn't see one. Today was not the day I got eaten.