3. Blueberries are evil

All the worst horror movies I’d ever seen flashed through my mind in one continuous panorama of terror, dismemberment, and gore.

CHOICES is the first book in the Chronicles of a Hero fantasy series. This is the story of Wendell P. Dipmier, who I’ve been writing about since 1990. I hope you’ll join me on this new adventure….as I tell the honest, complete story of this amazing 17 year old, exclusively on Life of Fiction.

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Chapter 3

Ever been so terrified of being 40,000 feet in the air that you screamed out in fear from the back of an airplane?

I have. Not recommended.

This was worse.

Imagine, if you will, a rock concert, or maybe a dance where a DJ controlled the music. You’re standing too close to those enormous speakers, because you want to feel the sound. You want to experience the music exploding from those giant black boxes. The thumping beats, intense vibrations all pummel your body, while the music stabs at your eardrums. Teleportation is almost identical, without the sound. 

The moment my body passed through the opening, I pulled my arms and legs into my chest and did my best impression of an egg. There was a pulling sensation, yanking me from the brightness of the opening, and then it was gone. Before I could blink, the porch of the Matthew’s home was gone. The surrounding darkness swirled with strands of pale blue light, imitating wisps of smoke. I flinched as I passed through a wisp, and a sudden shock ripped through my body. 

Up my spine and arching over my skull, the sensation seized every fiber of muscles and squeezed. My teeth snapped together hard, my jaw clenching so tight, I wondered if my molars would crack. It felt like peeing on a high-voltage electric fence. 

Not that I’d ever done that. 

Often.

A stabbing chill followed. Painful lines of cold raced through veins, small shards of glass pushing beneath my skin. The pressure moved from my heart, outward towards my hands and feet, then to fingers and toes. It felt like blood was being forced from my body through my limbs, but without an opening to escape. I wanted to scream with the pain, but nothing came out. I couldn’t inhale. The pressure compacted into my fingers and toes, pushing harder and harder. Like icy needles, the sensations stabbed violently at my toes and fingertips repeatedly, wanting to get out. Again I tried to cry out in pain, but a force held my chest in place.

A moment in-between taking and giving a breath.

Vibrations pummeled my bones, the whole of my body compressing, and I drifted away from consciousness. I blinked the wetness from my eyes. Delicate sparkles of purple and pure white mingled with the strands of blue around me.

Then, like being pulled off the roof of a building, I was falling.