by J. M. Barlog
“Die, bitch!”
Jenny kicked, but Bridget's weight and driving arms proved too much on top of her. She sucked hard for a breath of air, feeling her lungs burn as if they were being pulled up through her throat when no air could be brought in.
Then Jenny felt no more.
Dwight flew into the bedroom, saw the blood-stained creature kneeling over Jenny and dove. In one fluid motion, he grabbed Bridget's hair, yanked her off the listless body, and as she came around to face him, his fist toppled her to the floor.
Bridget groaned, tumbled feet over head and landed with a thud.
Dwight held his stance, but only for a second to make certain Bridget would not rise against him. Then he stripped the pillow from Jenny's head and felt for signs of life.
“No!” he screamed.
There was no movement, no breathing, no life coming from Jenny's body.
“Jenny!” Dwight barked, shaking her wildly.
Still Jenny's body moved with a horrible looseness.
Dwight checked, found no pulse.
Jenny was dead.
In anger, he slammed a fist into her chest and did the only thing he could remember from his CPR training. With head tilted back, he worked a finger in her mouth to remove her tongue from within her throat and began puffing air into her lungs.
“Breath, Jenny,” he commanded desperately.
Nothing.
“Breath damnit!”
He refused give up. From behind, he heard a moan. He glanced over to see Bridget still lying on the floor, her left leg twitching wildly.
Dwight pounded sharply again on Jenny's breastbone, and still getting no pulse, resumed his CPR.
“Come on, Jenny, come on back to us and breath,” he whispered between breaths. He could only hope he was doing it right; he only knew he had to keep trying. He couldn't give up now.
Sweat rolled off his chin as he alternated between pumping her chest and blowing rapidly into her mouth. A minute seemed like an hour and Dwight's arms were losing sensation.
Downstairs, the door banged open, feet rushed in.
“Up here, hurry!” he screamed.
A uniform flooded the room with light, leveling his gun on Dwight's back.
“Freeze!”
“I can't. I've got to save her.”
The uniform lowered his weapon.
“Help me, goddamnit,” Dwight urged as a second uniform added his light to the scene.
The first officer dropped to his knees and began breathing frantically into Jenny's throat. The second uniform raked his light over Bridget's body, then instructed Dwight to move away from Jenny. He, in turn, replaced Dwight and fingered Jenny's chest until he found the exact spot for the compressions.
“Blow, blow, bl...”
He struck Jenny's chest with such force that the body flinched. He checked the carotid for a pulse.
Nothing. But then…
“I got it! I got it!” he chimed while his partner still blew into Jenny's mouth.
“It's getting stronger. I'm getting a pulse at the carotid.”
The first uniform backed away. Jenny began breathing on her own.
As the officers moved away, Dwight moved in to cradle Jenny's head in his arms, smoothing his hand along her hair.
“You the husband?”
“No.”
“Then who are you?”
“It's a long story.”
Feeling Dwight’s hands on her face, Jenny opened her eyes.
“Jenny?”
“Warren.”
“No, it's Dwight...Mackenzie.”
“Oh God,” Jenny cried out, pulling away in terror.
“It's okay, Jenny. The police are here.”
A uniform pulled a groggy Bridget into a sitting position.
“She was suffocating Jenny when I broke in. She's...”
“She's the one who tried to kill me...” Jenny said.
“Jenny, you're safe now,” Dwight said, and on impulse, bent down to kiss Jenny's lips.
A wild rush of emotion swarmed over Jenny when she felt Dwight's lips kiss hers. Something inside came alive, blossoming into a brilliant star burst of desire.
Jenny reached up, bringing Dwight's lips back to hers.
“I'm back. I can feel it. I feel it inside!”
In those moments of death, Jenny's spirit had been given the opportunity to cross over from the dark side and return—she knew it the moment Dwight's lips touched hers. She felt what had been missing since her accident, she felt her spirit dwelling inside her body.
Jenny Garrett was whole again.
The End.
More...
Here's another scary read from J. M. Barlog
Windows to the Soul
College is a time of unbridled discovery...but some things were never meant to be disturbed.
Althea Goodfellow's clothes hand neatly in her closet; her desk sits ready for the academic year. Yet no one has seen the Ranhurst College track star. Police Chief Conrad Merrifield believes Ali just took to the wind. College can be a pressure cooker and some kids can't take the heat. But Trish Van Worten, Ali's roommate, isn't buying it.
Trish's need for answers draws her into the darkest side of campus life. The more she presses, the more her safe little world unravels. Someone's using terror to keep her from the truth. But the real nightmare is only beginning. An ancient evil is awakening, and it has found Trish.
A labyrinth of dread and deception stands between Trish and the real truth. This maze, however, also forms a conduit between the world of the living and a demonic world Trish never could have imagined existed.
Journey into the dark bowels of campus life. See what goes on behind those closed doors and shuttered curtains. If you dare...
ISBN: 0-9654716-6-7