The Nightmare Game Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: S. Suzanne Martin
someone
at the door. Please be somebody, please! I
prayed. I tried to call for help, but the strong rope of wood, tightening about
and squeezing my windpipe, silenced me as it attempted to crush my throat. I
could feel my eyes bulge from the strangulation as I closed them and willed for
help as hard as I could. Help me, please help me ,
I thought with all my might. Rescue me! I’m in here!
I’m in here! Help! Save me!
“Hello, is anybody here?” Thank God. He’s real! I thought as I heard a man’s
voice yell from the front room. The wood enclosing my neck tightened further as
if in an attempt to finish me off before anyone could make the quick trip from
the front office down the hall.
“Hello?” the voice got louder. He was coming down
the short hallway. I could hear his footsteps. The pressure on my neck
lessened. I could feel my bonds fall away in seconds. The room returned to
normal. The death flower scent was gone.
“Hi!” A young man peeked timidly in the doorway.
I looked at him, relieved beyond measure. I rubbed
my throat, then my arms and legs. I looked around the room where everything
seemed to be the same as it was when I first walked in. Had I hallucinated the
whole experience?
“May I help you, young man?” Rochere asked coldly,
visibly annoyed at being disturbed.
“Yes, does a Gilda work here?”
“No one by that name works here. Whatever would
make you think so?”
“It’s just that I ran into her last week. She told
me she was working here.”
“Last week? Oh, yes, I did have one of those
‘temps’ here helping me part-time then. I never bother to learn their names.”
“I’m a friend of hers from high school, you see.
I’m in town for a just few days. I heard she worked here and just thought I’d
look her up. I ...”
“This is a place of business, young man, not a
high school reunion.”
“I know that,” he said, still smiling, apparently
unscathed. “It’s just that I’m only in for the weekend and I thought she might
want to get together later.”
“Well, you’re too late. I suppose that Gilda will
have to live at least a little bit longer without the pleasure of your company.
I’m afraid you’ve missed her.”
“Bummer,” said the young man, his high spirits
flagging somewhat. “Think she’ll ever come to work for you again?”
“I seriously doubt it. In all these years, I
rarely see the same temporary worker a second time,” said Rochere, harshly.
“Now, you will excuse me because, as you can see, I have a client with me.” I
was surprised she had actually remembered me.
“Okay,” he said, still standing in the doorway.
“So I guess you’ll be going now then,” Rochere
replied irritably.
I was not about to let him go out without me, but
before I could say anything he looked at me and said, “Hey, ma’am, you look a
little green around the gills. Are you okay?”
“Not really!” relieved I didn’t have to bring it
up myself. I needed to say something that would make him stay. “I think I may
have eaten something that didn’t agree with me at the airport before I left
home.”
“Pity,” said Rochere, as if she didn’t think it
was a pity at all.
“I’m not sure I can make it alone to the apartment
I’m renting,” I said to him in a weak voice that was more imploring than I had
intended. “Would it be too much bother for you if I asked you to help me?” I
knew it sounded desperate asking a complete stranger to walk me to my rental
apartment. While I was recovering very rapidly from the worst of the attack, I
still felt delicate and somewhat sick, as if I were getting ready to come down
with a bad flu. I didn’t trust myself to be able to walk the few blocks alone.
I still could not absorb what had just happened.
“Sure, glad to,” he said.
I looked down at my arms and legs to see how bad
the bruising was, but there was no sign of my having been trussed so tightly. I must have been
hallucinating , I thought to myself, as my
at the door. Please be somebody, please! I
prayed. I tried to call for help, but the strong rope of wood, tightening about
and squeezing my windpipe, silenced me as it attempted to crush my throat. I
could feel my eyes bulge from the strangulation as I closed them and willed for
help as hard as I could. Help me, please help me ,
I thought with all my might. Rescue me! I’m in here!
I’m in here! Help! Save me!
“Hello, is anybody here?” Thank God. He’s real! I thought as I heard a man’s
voice yell from the front room. The wood enclosing my neck tightened further as
if in an attempt to finish me off before anyone could make the quick trip from
the front office down the hall.
“Hello?” the voice got louder. He was coming down
the short hallway. I could hear his footsteps. The pressure on my neck
lessened. I could feel my bonds fall away in seconds. The room returned to
normal. The death flower scent was gone.
“Hi!” A young man peeked timidly in the doorway.
I looked at him, relieved beyond measure. I rubbed
my throat, then my arms and legs. I looked around the room where everything
seemed to be the same as it was when I first walked in. Had I hallucinated the
whole experience?
“May I help you, young man?” Rochere asked coldly,
visibly annoyed at being disturbed.
“Yes, does a Gilda work here?”
“No one by that name works here. Whatever would
make you think so?”
“It’s just that I ran into her last week. She told
me she was working here.”
“Last week? Oh, yes, I did have one of those
‘temps’ here helping me part-time then. I never bother to learn their names.”
“I’m a friend of hers from high school, you see.
I’m in town for a just few days. I heard she worked here and just thought I’d
look her up. I ...”
“This is a place of business, young man, not a
high school reunion.”
“I know that,” he said, still smiling, apparently
unscathed. “It’s just that I’m only in for the weekend and I thought she might
want to get together later.”
“Well, you’re too late. I suppose that Gilda will
have to live at least a little bit longer without the pleasure of your company.
I’m afraid you’ve missed her.”
“Bummer,” said the young man, his high spirits
flagging somewhat. “Think she’ll ever come to work for you again?”
“I seriously doubt it. In all these years, I
rarely see the same temporary worker a second time,” said Rochere, harshly.
“Now, you will excuse me because, as you can see, I have a client with me.” I
was surprised she had actually remembered me.
“Okay,” he said, still standing in the doorway.
“So I guess you’ll be going now then,” Rochere
replied irritably.
I was not about to let him go out without me, but
before I could say anything he looked at me and said, “Hey, ma’am, you look a
little green around the gills. Are you okay?”
“Not really!” relieved I didn’t have to bring it
up myself. I needed to say something that would make him stay. “I think I may
have eaten something that didn’t agree with me at the airport before I left
home.”
“Pity,” said Rochere, as if she didn’t think it
was a pity at all.
“I’m not sure I can make it alone to the apartment
I’m renting,” I said to him in a weak voice that was more imploring than I had
intended. “Would it be too much bother for you if I asked you to help me?” I
knew it sounded desperate asking a complete stranger to walk me to my rental
apartment. While I was recovering very rapidly from the worst of the attack, I
still felt delicate and somewhat sick, as if I were getting ready to come down
with a bad flu. I didn’t trust myself to be able to walk the few blocks alone.
I still could not absorb what had just happened.
“Sure, glad to,” he said.
I looked down at my arms and legs to see how bad
the bruising was, but there was no sign of my having been trussed so tightly. I must have been
hallucinating , I thought to myself, as my