↳ teaser

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[ THE DARE GAMES : TEASER : sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when i was young. how come i'm never able to identify where it's coming from? i'd make a candle out of it, if i ever found it. try to sell it, never sell out if it.❞ ]


          PARKER SIGHS, HER FINGERS trudging deeper into the comfort of Nico's mustard colored sweatshirt. Her feet rush to keep up with the older, drunk woman in front of her and the rain continues to pour down on her, making her surroundings blur. She can barely tell the difference between the concrete sidewalk and gravel road. "Rose, come on. We should get you to bed," She calls out, a mixture of concern and frustration lacing through her voice. She tries reaching out for the woman, her fingers almost able to clutch onto her bare shoulder. But the touch ignites a fire in the woman, forcing her to burst into a sprint. The way her legs move makes it look like she's floating above the sidewalk. Parker can barely keep up. "Rose, please! It's not safe."

          Parker could've sworn no one was on the road.

          Her neighborhood is quiet during the day, even towards night it's silent. Cars never speed down the street, always cautious of the little ones playing or the elders walking. Parker used to walk this road every morning and afternoon to school and back with no problem. She could hours without seeing one car on the road. Arcadia isn't busy. Never busy. It's a small community with few people—so, why now?

          Parker picks up her speed, her breath fanning around her and splashing back in her face. Her cheeks flush, her lips chap, and her arms and legs covered in goosebumps. Halfway to the cross walk, and her body defensively stops itself when the shine of headlights come flying around the corner.

          But the older woman keeps running.

          A bone chilling scream and screeching squeal of tires echo throughout the banal neighborhood. A sickening thud and crunch of bone meeting metal. Slashing of flesh. Glass shattering, and parts scattering. An overpowering smell of toxic petrol fumes mixed with the harsh scent of metallic blood dripping from wounds surrounds Parker's senses.

          And when her eyes snap open, the sky is suddenly a shade darker as clouds cover up the last bit of sun. Rain is still pouring down on her as she watches a beat up red car drive off; a sadistic glimmer of a smirk thrown at her by the distorted driver as the license plate teeters up and down on the mount of the car.

          Parker stands there, body shaking, eyelids brimming with threatening to fall tears. Her brain can't process anything. It's blank, bleak, and unknowing.

          Shakily her body turns toward the crosswalk, eyes immediately meeting the sight of broken bones, and puddles of crimson red blood mixed with motor oil. Finally, her brain catches up with her sight, and she realizes why the woman screamed in the first place.

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