The scream had been her own, only now Penny’s throat felt dry and scratchy, as if her vocal cords had grown taunt with decades of uselessness. Even her lungs felt has though they were being constricted, and Penny recognized the panic attack beginning to manifest itself. But was it a panic attack when there was something truly worth panicking about, sitting before one in all its horror?
Her heartbeat its rhythm in her eardrums and reality began to appear in slow motion. Each second was an eternity. Penny had heard this happened when one was in true crisis. How odd, her analytic mind thought rationally while her body acted on pure survival instinct. That same part of her mind also wondered if reality had slowed down to allow more time for a survival plan.
What was once Joan, a slightly spoiled and irritating fiancé of her younger brother, was now something out of Penny’s worst nightmares, a sightless fiend whose skin no longer fit upon the bone structure of the body. The smile it wore was garish. The rational part of Penny’s mind was also not above speculating that perhaps this creature before her was indeed the real Joan. Had she not been fighting true terror, she might have at least smiled at this idea.
Penny found herself, step-by-step, slow foot motion to next slow foot motion, backing away, retreating upon the footsteps she had taken to get to this moment. The form before her did not move, just stared, sightlessly at her.
When Penny reached the doorway, the strength of the structure helped support her. She found herself speaking with rusty vocal cords, “Joan. Joan what happened? Joan are you alright?”
Seemingly with no movements of the lips, what had been Joan replied with a voice filled with bile and other dark things, “Joan’s not here right now.”
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