Write One Page Per Day – 1/365 – January 1, 2018

Tonight was different from other nights. David’s headache was worse. Far worse than it had ever been. The medication he took an hour ago hadn’t even started to yield results. It had started like any other minor headache, but now had him on his hands and knees on the floor as each beat of his heart sent blinding pain through his temples and up into the top of his head.

“Are you okay?” Mary Anne asked, “You’re not looking well.”

“Something’s wrong, Mary Anne. Something is terribly wrong.” David replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly a flash of light filled David’s vision, followed by images in rapid succession. At first everything moved too fast, and his head felt as though it may explode. He pleaded for it to stop, but the succession slowed and he saw that the images showed him terrible things. Murders, suicides, bombs, fires, disease, and hate. He couldn’t keep them out, and he felt the nausea wash over him as his mind processed them. He felt the burning desire to do something, but he didn’t know what or how.

When they stopped, he was no longer on the floor. He want even in his house any longer. He found himself standing deep in the woods. Woods he couldn’t place or recognize. He pulled his phone from his pocket to find that he had no service. Frustrated and lost he returned the phone to his pocket, before calling out into the darkness.

“Hello? Is anyone out here? Can anyone hear me?” he yelled, spinning in circles trying to make sure that if there was anyone out there they could hear him.

A low growl began emanating from the thicket. David turned to face it, but backed slowly away from the source. He found that there were purple eyes staying at him, illuminated without a light source, piercing through him into his very soul.

“Easy now.” he said placing his hands it in front of him as he scanned near his feet for anything with which he could defend himself.

“Why have you come here?” the creature asked as it continued to growl.

“My name is David Perkins. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know where here is.” David’s voice trembled as he replied.

“Liar!” the creature spat, “I’ve tasted your scent before, who are you? Why have you come again?”

“I am David Perkins.” he said, “I am an accountant from Portsmouth, New Hampshire.”

“I know you!” the creature stopped growling, “Why do you try to deceive me, my old friend? You are the fourth rider. Your name has always been Death. We can begin now.”

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