The Hollow Silence

The Hollow Silence - Chapter 3

This chapter is dedicated to jemsparkle.

Chapter 3

Mark drove home later that evening. The lights on the street passed him by, it played with the shadows on his face. His face was solemn; he had lost one of his best friends. He was tired, exhausted, and emotionally drained. He thought of his friend being shredded apart. He shuddered. The crime scene still loomed in his mind.

He was tired despite he hadn't done much all day. He had sent his sample to his buddy at NYU and waited to get results. He didn't get any. He closed early because he and Monica had nothing to do. When they parted ways once again Mark heard the flutter.

He drove in silence, and he looked in his rearview mirror. It started lightning crackled in the sky and he saw a shadow fly around in car, "WHAT THE HELL?" he screamed and slammed on the brakes. His car started sliding and spinning upon the road, and he twirled. He gripped the steering wheel and pulled off the brakes. He slammed on the gas, and twisted the steering wheel, and he brought his car under control. He slowed to a stop and pulled over. He laid his head down on the wheel and sighed.

"Ugh..." He moaned.

BAM! A big black shadow flew from behind his seat and hit the front window. He jumped screaming and leaned back. He immediately grabbed the handle of the door and opened it. However, when the lights came on he found a dead crow dead on his dashboard. He laughed, "Wow Mark... You're getting bent out of shape man. Just relax." He grabbed the crow up and looked at it. Its dark body, its red eyes... It instilled fear into him. He shivered and threw the crow into the street.

The crow almost hit the ground but it's wings flew out and it started to fly. Mark was dumbfounded, he had held that in his hand, it wasn't moving, or breathing. He watched it fly off. After he fell from his site he felt a terror deep within his heart. The flutter of the crow's wings... That was what he was hearing. Why were their crows in the dead of winter anyway?

He shook his head and got back into his car. He turned on his ipod, and played some Iron Maiden. He took a deep breath and started the car and drove off. He rode trying to get it off his mind. The dreams... The crow... His father... Lucas... What does all this mean, he thought, it doesn't make any sense!

He drove up on his condo complex and looked up. He saw the light on in his room and smiled, Sylvia was there. He sighed a sigh of happiness. He parked his car and locked it. He then entered his building. The door stood in front of him and he unlocked it.

Once inside he threw off his coat onto the counter, and he kicked off his shoes. He called out, "Hey Sylvia! You here?" he yelled out hoping she was. But there wasn't an answer. Mark looked around suspiciously for foul play, Sylvia never, NEVER, left the lights on if she wasn't here. He pulled his gun out of its pants and stepped forward. He first searched the living room and kitchen. He grabbed a knife and slipped it into the back of his pants. He proceeded to his room. The door was already cracked open.

He pushed it open and stepped inside, his eyes immediately setting on a figure crouching on his bed looking out the window, its back facing him. The figure gave off a feeling of fear, it gripped Mark. He however composed himself and commanded, "Identify yourself or you will get shot."

The figure was wearing a hoody and its face turned slightly. When that happen, the gun flew from Mark's hand to the other side of the room. Mark was instantly filled with dread and agony. He stared helplessly at the figure as it stood up and turned. Immediately he noticed that the hoody covered his face, only the figure's mouth was seen.

The figure stood about six feet and a half, bulky and gave off an aura of power and evil. It walked its way towards him, now in front of Mark. A smell of death entered Mark's nostrils. The figure smiled, its teeth crooked and yellow. A smile that filled him with hopelessness. Mark's breathing intensified and got spotty. His mind couldn't focus.

"We finally meet again." The voice said. Voices. It was multiple. Just like the dream. Just like the tenet said. Multiple voices, shrieks, screams, yells. It filled him with dread and pain filled his ears. He was going to die. He could sense it. The darkness radiated off this figure, this... thing. It was an aura of death.

"You were younger when we met." Its voice piercing Mark's heart with pain and agony, "But I am sure that the dreams have come back. You used to have so many as a child." Every word sent shockwaves of pain through Mark. He cringed at every word.

The thing smiled again and Mark looked up at the thing's eyes. There were three, and they were red. He was instantly trapped and entranced by the eyes, they brought so many dark emotions into his heart, he collapsed onto the ground.

The thing laughed, "You put up so much less of a fight than your father." The thing then leaned down on him, its mouth growing in size, its teeth doubling in length. The smell of death loomed heavier; with every inch that the thing inched towards him he knew he wasn't going to live.

Mark felt something poke at his back, The knife! Immediately, with the thing only a few inches away from his face, he shoved his hand behind his back and pulled the knife out swinging away at it's throat. It tried to recoil, but it still connected with it. It reeled back screeching loudly piercing Mark's ears. A black liquid poured down it's throat. Mark didn't wait, he jumped at the creature, and stabbed it, the blade slid into it. The creature once again reeled back in pain and tripped over the bed.

He jumped to the side, grabbing the gun which had fallen over there, and grabbed it raised it and fired three rounds into it's back. It lie still, without moving, and Mark collapsed against the wall. His heart pounded relentlessly, the black liquid spilled onto his clothes. It was visible even though he was wearing black.

He laid his head back against the wall and lowered his breathing, "What the hell was that?" He asked to himself out loud.

"That hurt." The voice said. The creature stood up its liquid still pouring out. Mark gasped. What the hell is this thing, he thought. "You are going to die." The voice said angrily. Mark raised the gun and fired two more times into it's chest, but it didn't go down. It kept walking towards him. With each step it made, his consciousness was slipping. His vision blurred.

The gun flew from his hands and it was almost upon him. Before the darkness set in, he saw another figure, this one in white, step forward. The figure charged towards the creature and Mark blacked out.

A few hours later he drifted awake and found himself in his bed. He was still tired and exhausted. He looked over and found Sylvia in a chair next to the bed. When she saw him awake she ran over to him, "Mark are you okay?"

"What happened?" Mark asked sluggishly, his eyes feeling heavier.

"I found you collapsed on the floor. I pulled you to your bed. Your heavy you know that Mark" she said trying to hide her concern, "You really need to look out for yourself you..." and Mark lost consciousness again.