Read Online The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted by J.A. Schreckenbach - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J.A. Schreckenbach
Tags: paranormal romance
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girl's direction.
The woman's crying escalated. She begged, “Please…please don’t hurt me!”
He snarled through his teeth, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you!”
Suddenly from across the room, drifting up the stairwell, Aimee heard more voices. They heard them, too. Their heads whipped towards the sound. For the first time Aimee could clearly see their faces. Heavy, black stubble shaded his face. His eyes, what Aimee could see, were dark, cold as ice. Although the room was cool, sweat ran down his cheeks into his beard. His forehead displayed a fresh jagged scar etched across it and a small, dark green teardrop was tattooed under the corner of his eye. The young woman looked like an animal about to be slain. Her eyes were filled with fear. Her knuckles had turned white from the relentless grasp she had on her chair. She pulled her stare back to the gun, away from the sound of the unsuspecting voices. Her bottom lip trembled. Aimee sensed desperate thoughts flowing through the woman's mind. For a fraction of a second the woman hesitated, and then she acted.
“NO, DOOON’T!” Aimee screeched as she leaped to her feet, then propelled her body through the air towards the assailant. The startled man spun around. Without a word he fired the gun. The bullet whizzed past Aimee and embedded into the bookcase beside her. The woman, fueled by her own adrenaline, fused her small frame to his, and clamped her legs around his waist as she clawed at his eyes like a wild panther. With one forceful twist of his torso, he threw her off into the concrete wall. The man reared back his arm with the gun still locked in his grip, and with the swiftness of a tennis player spiking a ball, he backhanded the woman. Aimee heard the sickening thud at the same time the woman screamed out. Her eyes glazed instantly, then her body slid down the wall leaving a crimson colored streak stain on the bricks behind her.
The man turned back to Aimee. Their eyes met for an eternity, then he bolted for the emergency exit and vanished.
The woman lay lifeless, her body contorted. Blood oozed onto the tile from a long gash on the side of her head. Aimee heard a tiny whimper escape from her lips and noticed her hand twitch. She fell to her knees and pressed her fingers to the woman's neck. In the background Aimee heard screams, then footsteps on the tiled steps racing up the stairs, and the wail of sirens getting louder. She stood up to run, but as suddenly as she had arrived she disappeared into the blackness of the tunnel, barely escaping being caught. ...
...“Miss Schmidt! Miss Schmidt!” Aimee could hear anxiety in Mrs. Krause’s southern tone, which was usually thick and drawn out. “Miss Schmidt, oh my dear child, there you are! Are you okay?” Her voice was getting closer. Aimee looked up. She was standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Mrs. North was right behind Mrs. Krause, both of their faces appeared ashen. Mrs. Krause gently touched Aimee's arm and nervously started leading the way back into the nurse’s office. Mrs. North grabbed Aimee's other arm. Her fingers started searching Aimee's wrist for a pulse.
“Aimee, are you okay?” Mrs. North asked as they entered her office. She motioned for Aimee to sit on the exam table. Mrs. North's eyes shot to the toppled chair lying on Aimee's pack, then back to Aimee.
Aimee nodded and mumbled something about the chair that sounded incoherent, at least to herself. Her thoughts were clearly not quite settled.
“Do you know where you are?” asked Mrs. North as she tightened the blood pressure cuff around Aimee's right arm. The squeezing pressure caused Aimee to gasp.
“Ouch…uh, yeah, I’m in the nurse’s office, I think.” She checked the room to make sure her answer was correct.
“Hmm, 142 over 54,” stated Mrs. North. A strained silence followed. “Where did you disappear to?”
“I was feeling sick. I went to the restroom.”
“Anything stressful going on, Aimee?
The woman's crying escalated. She begged, “Please…please don’t hurt me!”
He snarled through his teeth, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you!”
Suddenly from across the room, drifting up the stairwell, Aimee heard more voices. They heard them, too. Their heads whipped towards the sound. For the first time Aimee could clearly see their faces. Heavy, black stubble shaded his face. His eyes, what Aimee could see, were dark, cold as ice. Although the room was cool, sweat ran down his cheeks into his beard. His forehead displayed a fresh jagged scar etched across it and a small, dark green teardrop was tattooed under the corner of his eye. The young woman looked like an animal about to be slain. Her eyes were filled with fear. Her knuckles had turned white from the relentless grasp she had on her chair. She pulled her stare back to the gun, away from the sound of the unsuspecting voices. Her bottom lip trembled. Aimee sensed desperate thoughts flowing through the woman's mind. For a fraction of a second the woman hesitated, and then she acted.
“NO, DOOON’T!” Aimee screeched as she leaped to her feet, then propelled her body through the air towards the assailant. The startled man spun around. Without a word he fired the gun. The bullet whizzed past Aimee and embedded into the bookcase beside her. The woman, fueled by her own adrenaline, fused her small frame to his, and clamped her legs around his waist as she clawed at his eyes like a wild panther. With one forceful twist of his torso, he threw her off into the concrete wall. The man reared back his arm with the gun still locked in his grip, and with the swiftness of a tennis player spiking a ball, he backhanded the woman. Aimee heard the sickening thud at the same time the woman screamed out. Her eyes glazed instantly, then her body slid down the wall leaving a crimson colored streak stain on the bricks behind her.
The man turned back to Aimee. Their eyes met for an eternity, then he bolted for the emergency exit and vanished.
The woman lay lifeless, her body contorted. Blood oozed onto the tile from a long gash on the side of her head. Aimee heard a tiny whimper escape from her lips and noticed her hand twitch. She fell to her knees and pressed her fingers to the woman's neck. In the background Aimee heard screams, then footsteps on the tiled steps racing up the stairs, and the wail of sirens getting louder. She stood up to run, but as suddenly as she had arrived she disappeared into the blackness of the tunnel, barely escaping being caught. ...
...“Miss Schmidt! Miss Schmidt!” Aimee could hear anxiety in Mrs. Krause’s southern tone, which was usually thick and drawn out. “Miss Schmidt, oh my dear child, there you are! Are you okay?” Her voice was getting closer. Aimee looked up. She was standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Mrs. North was right behind Mrs. Krause, both of their faces appeared ashen. Mrs. Krause gently touched Aimee's arm and nervously started leading the way back into the nurse’s office. Mrs. North grabbed Aimee's other arm. Her fingers started searching Aimee's wrist for a pulse.
“Aimee, are you okay?” Mrs. North asked as they entered her office. She motioned for Aimee to sit on the exam table. Mrs. North's eyes shot to the toppled chair lying on Aimee's pack, then back to Aimee.
Aimee nodded and mumbled something about the chair that sounded incoherent, at least to herself. Her thoughts were clearly not quite settled.
“Do you know where you are?” asked Mrs. North as she tightened the blood pressure cuff around Aimee's right arm. The squeezing pressure caused Aimee to gasp.
“Ouch…uh, yeah, I’m in the nurse’s office, I think.” She checked the room to make sure her answer was correct.
“Hmm, 142 over 54,” stated Mrs. North. A strained silence followed. “Where did you disappear to?”
“I was feeling sick. I went to the restroom.”
“Anything stressful going on, Aimee?
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