The Halloween Collection by Indie Eclective Read Free Book Online Page B

acidic fluid stung her throat as she
ripped the surgical covering from her face. Gagging, she coughed
again in an effort to clear her lungs.
    Suddenly a new terror touched her senses.
Sara’s head shot up at the strange shuffling sound.
    “Oh, God, no,” she grieved, as she felt the
blood drain from her face. She looked on in horror as the other
four lifeless forms turned and confronted her. All wore the hideous
facial scarring of long past burns. None spoke as they moved
robotically in her direction. Panic-stricken, Sara flung all her
weight against the operating room exit door. It didn’t budge. She
tried again and failed, only this time a sharp pain stabbed her
chest. Gasping for air, she swung around.
    “Help me! Goddammit, someone please help
me!” she screamed, smothering in the foul stench. Sinking to her
knees, Sara began to weep. “Oh no, please, no, not me. I want to be
a surgeon.”
    Looking up in desperation, her eyes glimpsed
the intercom speaker. In one futile attempt, Sara lunged for it,
flipping the button to the ON position.
    “Help! Help! Stat to OR 13. Please, anybody,
stat to OR 13, STAT!” Sensing an inanimate touch on her shoulder,
Sara bolted around.
    She cried out as the gnarled fingers dug
into her flesh. Sinking to her wobbling knees, she began to sob
uncontrollably.
    As the grotesquely silent forms pulled her
toward the operating table, her resistance drained. She caught
glimpses of the deformed pumpkin, its toothless grin, and then the
flames. The foul smell of singed hair intensified her panic. She
screamed repeatedly while her flailing body was forcefully
restrained under the steamy OR lights. The smell of burning human
flesh climaxed rapidly into excruciating pain. She had time for one
last bloodcurdling scream of undefined terror before the acute
onslaught of convulsive agony blasted Sara McCaffe into abysmal
darkness.
     
    * * *
     
    “Okay, that’s the last treatment. Quick, get
me a tongue blade. She’s having a seizure.”
    “Yes ma’am, Dr. Charmaine.” The thin nurse
rushed to the crash cart.
    “Oh, and Bess,” the concerned doctor added.
“Tell them I’ll be down to the clinic in a minute. We’re almost
through here.”
    The experienced psychiatrist displayed
confidence in supporting the woman’s airway. Her familiarity with
post-electroshock seizures told her she’d be out of it in thirty
seconds.
    “Sara. Sara.” Dr. Charmaine spoke calmly
into the patient’s face as she peeled away the electrodes from her
temples. The woman gagged once and then coughed several times
before resuming her regular breathing pattern.
    “Dr. Charmaine?” Bess asked, returning to
the table.
    “Yes, nurse?”
    “What was all that gibberish she was
muttering between treatments? Something about Halloween.”
    The psychiatrist shrugged. “At times, Sara
locks herself in her own world where no one else is allowed to
enter. I really can’t explain—except that when she’s trapped in
this private place she goes, it must be incredibly painful for
her.” Then turning, she adjusted Sara’s head position. “Sara, look
at me. Open your eyes.”
    “Dr. Charmaine. Dr. Charmaine. Is that you?”
the woman moaned.
    “Yes, Sara. I’m here.”
    “Dr. Charmaine…Is it over?”
    “Is what over?”
    “Halloween?”
    “Today is not Halloween, Sara. Now relax and
take some deep breaths.” She watched closely as her patient drew in
several good breaths. “There you go. Excellent.”
    “Dr. Charmaine?” Her voice sounded
strained.
    “I’m listening, Sara.”
    She paused, taking in one more breath. “I
had the most horrible dream. There was a fire. But…I can’t remember
any more of it. Just that it was on Halloween.”
    “Events like Halloween can trigger bad
dreams, Sara.” After checking her pulse, Dr. Charmaine pulled the
green sheets back over her. “Warm enough?”
    “I’m fine.” Sara closed her eyes. “You know
what, though, Dr. Charmaine?”
    “No, what?”
    “I