The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic

The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Preview of 'The Ghost Murders'

The now familiar beep of the monitors was relaxing to the man handcuffed to the bed. Jacob John Wesley, the ‘Ghost’ had been groggily coming in and out of consciousness for a few hours, feeling agonizing pain throughout his body until the next injection of pain killers.
He had been confused the first few times he had opened his eyes, not knowing where he was or how he got there. The chase and the resultant wreck finally started working its way though the haze that was his memory at the moment. The realization that he was in a hospital and that he had been apprehended had finally sunk in with the glimpse of the deputy guarding him outside his room.
Coming to grips with his current situation, an insight had occurred to him through the pain and the haze. Yes, he was caught, but he was still famous, people would want to know his thoughts, books would be written, movies made. The ‘Ghost’ was still here, and he was the ‘Ghost’.
A smile spread on his lips through the pain, true happiness seeming to be achieved in his life.
A nurse enters the room carrying a tray. Through half opened eyes he sees a shapely blond woman in a short white nurse’s uniform and tortoise shell glasses. She is turned away, filling a syringe from a bottle. He notices her tight ass in the white dress and wishes he could say something snide as she turns around and gives him a big smile.
“Time for your pain shot, Mr. Wesley” she said in a southern draw, her nametag revealing her name to be ‘Jasmine’. “This will fix you right up.”
‘Jasmine? It’s her!’ He thought to himself, ‘his mentor’. Thumping the needle to clear the air, she inserts it in the IV and slowly pushes the contents into the line, taking the empty hypodermic and laying it again on the tray across the room.
Coming back to the side of the bed, she smiles down on him now, informing him that “It shouldn’t be long now before the desired effects take hold.”
Still smiling, she leans down close to his face, suddenly talking close to his ear in the now familiar raspy whisper, “You should have listened to me, Mr. Wesley; you should have listened to me.”
Standing up again and still smiling, she turns to leave the room. “You all have a nice day now.”
Wesley is now confused, ‘what did she mean by that’ he wonders. The initial confusion is quickly replaced by a searing pain radiating from his arm, then traveling throughout his body. A scream formed in his throat as he tried to open his mouth to release it, but neither the scream nor the pain would exit his body.
It felt like his veins were burning with acid as his eyes now opened wide. There was a darkness creeping into his vision that seemed alive as it quickly moved around the room. While he helplessly watched its progress, the darkness moved closer and started to envelop him, like tentacles attaching to his soul. Before the last breath escapes his lungs, he is staring into the face of his fate; two red eye-like slits stare at him from inches away as screams of a thousand souls enter his head.
“Welcome,” the apparition says, the tentacles pulling the soul from his body as his screams join the others in eternal pain.

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