I find myself to be trapped. I feel tight space around my arms, my neck, around my whole body. There is no light where I am. I smell wine and food, but I cannot see it. I hear the clinking of glasses and the friendly chatter of people, but I lack sight of those as well.
I open my eyes, and blink rapidly in an attempt to try and improve my vision. Then I realize, I cannot feel my eye lids. I make the motion for my hands to move to my face, but I cannot move my arms or any parts of my body.
I feel momentum of my body moving and hear my footsteps as I move down a large corridor. The noises get fainter and fainter, then I hear a door open and shut. I feel weak, as if I cannot do anything.
I try to move once more, and yet I cannot. Then I hear a clicking and the sound of something spinning. Something is pressed up against my ear. Then I hear a voice.
"Can you tell Mr. Flowers that the device is ready and I shall depart soon?"The voice asked.
The voice is coming out of my head, I can hear it as if I am the source of the voice, but I am not talking.
"Do you have Father?" Another voice, this time on the right side of my body. It sounds distant and slightly metallic.
"Yes, he is in holding right now." The voice coming from my body says.
I must be in a jail. The man's voice I hear is talking to someone else through some communication device and he has put his father in a cell, this does not make sense. I try to come up with several other reasons as to what could be happening. But the jail theory makes the most sense.
"Hurry up, you're running late." The other voice commands.
There is a clicking sound and whatever object was near my ear is now gone.
There is a swift movement and I feel lurched to the side. I somehow am receiving a sense of urgency from whatever is holding me.
Then it dawns on me. I am inside someone's body. I must be dead. Or I could be this host's other personality. What am I? How did I get here?
My host begins to move his arm rapidly and I hear the scribbling of a stick. It sounds like he is writing something.
The sense of urgency begins to fade away and now a sense of power has been given. It is steady and growing.
My host clears his throat and begins to speak some sort of strange language. The pronunciations are bizarre, but oddly familiar. I am not quite sure where I have heard them before.
Suddenly there is the sound of a crash. There is screaming and then silence. My host quickly finishes what he says and the sense of urgency has returned but now with a sense of panic as well. There is more scribbling with the stick and then I am standing still.
My host begins his strange speech once more and I wonder as to why he is beginning this all over again. Then the sense of power returns once more. It is stronger this time, I feel as if I am going to rise. Cold air rushes over my body, I can move my arms and feel my face. I cannot see, I cannot speak, and I cannot hear. I lift my hands up to feel my face and I feel no features.
I wave around my surroundings in an attempt to touch something, but it is as if there is nothing but empty space.
Then I can smell. The strong scent of burning ashes rises to my nose and I can taste what I smell. I have a nose and a mouth. I hear a faint humming in my ears. I have ears.
Then I feel my eyes and I am blinded by bright light as I open my them, ending my imprisonment and releasing me into the world once more.
Written by Zach Zeman
aka The Hooded Werewolf