Nightmares and Reality
-Blood and Mud-
The couple stumbled through the corn field. They giggled and laughed, as they struggled to keep the cold fizzy liquid in their brown bottles of beer. The male, was named John and the female, was named Carrie. She fell and giggled uncontrollably as she tried to wipe the mud from her clothes. John laughed and helped Carrie get to her feet, only to fall onto his back, and to unwillingly pull Carrie down on top of him. The two laughed heartily. They stopped laughing and kissed passionately. Carrie stood up and removed her pink t-shirt, revealing a black bra. She walked slowly into the corn, disappearing from view, constantly giggling to coax John into following her. John scrambled to his feet and removed his shirt, a smile splitting his face. He followed the footsteps intently.
"Carrie?" Called John, "Where are you?" He looked around. He'd been wandering for a couple of minutes, and couldn't find his girlfriend. He heard a footstep behind him. He smirked and turned, only to walk headlong into a high-velocity baseball bat. His world spun as he was knocked unconscious and his vision faded to black.
John awoke, tied to a chair. He spat out a large globule of blood. He looked around, and discovered that he was in a garden shed. He saw a small flickering bulb, hanging from the ceiling. The light only illuminated a small portion of the shed, and most of it was pitch black. He saw Carrie, tied to a chair directly opposite him. Her jeans had been torn, and her bra had been torn from her chest. She had a large section of duct tape over her mouth. She looked, wide-eyed at John, whimpering audibly. Her body was cover in cuts and bruises and slick patches of mud. John, however: was not gagged,
"Who are you!?" He called out, trying to elicit a response from the assailant. The only response was a large pair of hands, reaching out from behind Carrie. The hands grabbed her shoulders and held her. She squirmed and wiggled as much as she could, but it was futile. John yelled with rage,
"You bastard! Let go of her!" He screamed. The hands released Carrie's shoulders and retreated back into the darkness. They sat in silence. The only noise was Carrie's muffled whimpering. The hands returned, only now one of them was carrying a large knife. The blade was pressed against Carrie's neck,
"NO!" Screamed John. The blade ran along Carrie's throat, and blood sprayed onto the floor and John's shoes, "FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! FUCK YOU!" The killer did not respond. John swore and threatened. His vision was blurring. He felt something on his shoulder. Another pair of heavy hands. They gripped his shoulders tight. He grunted and screamed. The hands held him in a vice-like grip. The hold got tighter and tighter, and he could feel his shoulder-blades cracking under the pressure. He bared his teeth and tried to pull himself from the chair, but the ropes around his stomach and arms were too tight. One of the hands released his shoulder and returned with a knife. His scream was turned into a feeble gag as the blade was pulled along his throat, and he died in the same manner as his girlfriend.