Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Peter Rivers

I found myself in a hotel room with my mouth gagged and my arms and legs bound by rope. I tried to squirm off the bed but the urge to vomit and an extreme pain in my left ear stopped me. Thoughts flashed through my mind like wildfire, but none of them asked the simplest question of all: where the hell was I? I instead seemed to be preoccupied with the question of... well, where was Grey?

I pondered for a moment, and wondered if perhaps he was gone. Maybe he was gone, and I was finally free. I could not feel him anywhere inside of me, after all. Then again, perhaps he was just latent, maybe even more than usual, somehow.

Then I remembered Peter. I squirmed around more, panicking as I trembled against the edge of the bed. I tried to push myself off so I could possibly stand on two feet, but I couldn't manage it. The rope was tied too short.

The door opened, and Peter stepped into the room. He closed the door, and sat on the other bed. He set the plastic bag he carried inside down, and stared at me while I stared at him.

"Your head. Nod for yes, shake for no," he commanded.

I nodded to let him know I understood.

"Has that thing been inside of you for more than a month?"

I nodded. 

"Has it taken control of you more than just once?"

I nodded.

He paused to think.

"Has it ever hurt anyone else? Or possibly even killed someone else?"

 I shook my head.

"Hmm."

He sat down in the only chair. He stared at me. Studied me.

"I don't know if I believe you, Owen."

I squinted at him. I didn't understand until he reached over to the table, and picked up a handgun. He got up and walked over to me. He sighed. He pointed the gun at my head.

"I don't think I believe you. From your blog you've been keeping, it's apparent that you've been shown symptoms of a possession for more than a single month. I can't... I can't ignore that. Most victims... they don't last that long. If you are Owen, ...and not this "Grey" person using the body as a puppet.... well."

He pointed the gun away from me.

"I don't know. I'm between a rock and a hard place here."

He sits on the bed beside me. I silently realize I didn't react at all to the gun. If he was actually going to shoot me... I would've just taken it. I was horrified, and okay with that, all at the same time.

"I really don't know. Fuck. See, this is what I hate about these kinds of situations...."

He lay down beside me, reclining out of my peripherals. I stared at the motel wall.

"Y'know, I could. I really could."

He got up and reached around my head. He pulled the gag out of my mouth.

"We could try something, but I'm not sure if it will work. If it doesn't work... you will probably die. Or even worse, Grey will manifest permanently inside of you, and I may have to put you down. But if it does work... Grey will be gone, erased from you. Would you like to try this?"

I couldn't even process all of that at once. Grey, gone? That couldn't be possible-

"I-I... wait... what?"

"Would you like to get rid of him?"

"Y-yes."

He cut the rope with a knife and released me from the rope. I slowly moved out of the shredded rope and stretched. I tried to get up off of the bed but my legs felt like jelly. I fell to the floor.

Peter held his hand out to me after putting his knife way. I took it and he lifted me up.

"This is going to be difficult, to say the least."

"I don't care. Just get it out of me. Please."

We left the motel. It was around 4 in the morning. He's driving us somewhere. We stopped at a McDonalds. I'm using his laptop to post this.

I'll update as soon as this is all over. 

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