The following is an excerpt from The Chronicles of Johnny Pheryl. The road ahead is still unknown, but I continue to write what comes to the stages of my mind. So follows:
A brilliant flash of lightening and clash of thunder rocked the port. Startled, Johnny sat up in a cold sweat. A keen sense of awareness rose within him. Raindrops began to fall on the roof, and soon the heavens opened into a torrential downpour. The room filled with light, as another bolt shot across the sky, and then faded to a dull gray again. He scanned the cold, dark room, his vision lucid and sharp. Each movement with his eyes came with precision and purpose. His senses flooded with brilliancy.
He heard padded footsteps. His vision scanned to the right where he saw a rat scurry across the floor. The rodent stopped, sensing he was being watched. He looked at Johnny’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before the rat continued, with even more urgency, across the room.
In nearly a millisecond of time, Johnny hoisted his utility knife into his hand, blade first, and hurled it at the rat. Blood spattered on the wall as the knife made contact with the rat’s head, crushing its skull and pinning it against the wall.
Satisfied by his first kill, he arose. His hunting instincts swelled within him and ice cold blood raced through his veins. He felt invigorated. He put his clothes on – black canvas pants and a black crew tee followed by his utility belt and shoes – walked over and removed the knife from the wall. He wiped the blood from its tip and returned it to the sheath on his belt.
He exited the quarters into the hallway. Her breath, deep and swelling, filled the silence. She slept in the next room.
With cat like reflexes, he slipped through the door and into the center corridor. Darkness blanketed the halls and quarters, but he could see everything as clear as day. He shifted without sound from room to room searching, seeking. His hunger for blood guided him. He hunted for hours, yet found nothing. Each room held captive only empty space and lonely walls. He desired to feel the bones of an unsuspecting prey, crack and shatter in his grip.
Having searched the entire port, finding nothing but emptiness, he returned to his quarters unfulfilled. He glanced at the rat that still lay, crumpled in the corner. His first kill of the night did not provide enough to quench his thirst. The desire for blood continued to rage within him without reprieve. He opened the window and let the rain enter. It splashed on his head and dripped off his brow, cooling the heat within. Steam rose with a playful wisp off his head. He gripped the windowpane with a tight clench. He clutched it with a fierce hatred, like a hellish demon waiting to shred the gates of heaven. The metal whined as it bent under the pressure of his grip.
“Johnny?” He startled but did not move.
“Are you alright?” The voice whispered with concern.
He lunged at her like a howling wolf, and pinned her against the wall in the outer corridor. She screeched and looked on him in terror. He clutched her throat with his right hand, lifting her up off the floor, and steadied himself with his left hand firmly planted on the cold steel wall. He pressed along the lining of her delicate jaw with his fingertips, the palm of his hand lodged against the soft cartilage and muscles of her throat. He applied pressure, slow and firm. He felt the bones and cartilage bend and give under pressure. His loan desire – to feel them crunch and see the eyes of his prey flush with blood as he squeezed the life out of her.
“Jo-hnn-y …” She gasped for air, pleading for release. “Plll … eeeas …se.”
Her eyes filled with horror and her pupils dilated. He beheld the darkness of her soul in the depths of her eyes. He saw the pure hell she currently experienced. Her pain rushed through is veins like the roaring of a river. He raised his head and inhaled with a deep drawn out breath and then released it with a demonic groan in affirmation of his triumphant kill.
He looked on her again; however this time, he did not see fear, rather he saw a woman in need of his mercy.
She whispered something inaudible and then proceeded to nod off into unconsciousness. He looked down at his grip around her throat and eased it off. She slid between his fingers to the floor in a crumpled, lifeless form.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he lifted and carried her into her quarters. He laid her in the bed, drew a blanket over her, kissed her forehead and lighted away into the night.
The rain continued its torrential pace as Johnny ran out onto the landing platform. His body, drained of the adrenaline that rushed through him, slumped to the ground in a puddle. He drifted away into a coma, while the rain soothed his savage beast.