nothing more than a blur, while others looked like amateur video—a grainy quality—random, dark, unstable. The lens would zoom in on something, then abruptly jerk elsewhere. She could barely keep up with it all.
But they weren’t all that way. In fact, some were just the opposite, so vivid, so real, that Kyle could almost reach out and grab them. Unfortunately, those were the ones she could have done without.
Panic breaking out everywhere. Feet pounding frantically across a convulsing floor. People scattering in all directions. It was unparalleled hysteria, and it was everywhere, like a herd of animals running for their lives. Only these didn’t look like animals; these were human.
From whom or what were they all running?
If the pictures weren’t enough to unnerve her, the blaring racket surely would. Just as indiscriminate as the images, it would start loud and clear, then cut out intermittently, like a stereo with a faulty wire.
ON-OFF-ON-OFF.
Kyle thought she’d heard screams but couldn’t be sure. The noise kept rising to ear-splitting levels, then falling, making it hard to distinguish. Bits and pieces of sound—they were everywhere—exploding in her ears. Intense and rhythmic, the vibrations resonated throughout her body. She could feel them in her bones, her throat, and inside her head too, like the pounding of a drum, incessant and brutal.
With each passing moment, the experience grew even more intense. Soon, the vibrations gave way to a forceful rattle, becoming so powerful it almost knocked Kyle right off her feet.
Then it was all gone. Vanished. Swallowed by silence.
But the unexpected calm offered little comfort for Kyle. After all the noise, the confusion, she felt smothered by the stillness.
“ You okay, doc?” It was her patient, twenty-three-year-old Amanda Shively. She’d noticed Kyle’s face had turned a ghostly shade of white.
“ Yeah, fine. Just dizzy for a moment is all,” Kyle replied, blinking hard a few times, and forcing a less-than-convincing smile.
Then it started again.
Thundering, quaking sensations charged through her body with the speed and intensity of a fast-moving locomotive. The images returned as well, now flickering at an even more hurried rate than before and brighter too—it reminded Kyle of a film projector spinning out of control.
Flip, flip, flip —they just kept coming.
Kyle flinched. The visuals were more violent now.
A woman lay on the ground, curled into a ball, a halo of blood surrounding her head. Even more blood trailed past her, smeared across the floor—a child’s finger-painting—in shades of crimson.
And silence again.
“ Doc?”
Kyle looked at her patient, puzzled, as if seeing her for the very first time. To Amanda, the doctor appeared disoriented. Kyle’s voice was soft and breathy. “Can you excuse me for just a moment, Amanda?”
“ Sure thing. You gonna be okay?”
Kyle ignored the question, stumbling toward the door, then out into the hallway and toward her office.
Once inside, she dropped into a chair, letting her face fall into her hands. A few stray images still flickered in her head, but much slower now, almost as if nearing the end of the film reel. She sat completely still for a moment, face still buried in hands, trembling, allowing whatever was in control of her mind to run its course.
A few seconds later, it was all gone.
Cautiously, she looked up to make sure everything had really stopped this time. All she could hear was a distant and faint ringing. Kyle scanned the top of her desk, spotted a half-filled water bottle, grabbed at it. She began pouring it greedily down her throat as if she hadn’t had any in days, squeezing the sides so hard that it began to collapse inward. After finishing, she placed it down, spread her fingers apart, and stared at them; she could see her pulse pounding through the tips.
Her mind had ground to a halt, but her body was still reeling.
Kyle knew what was happening. She’d
But they weren’t all that way. In fact, some were just the opposite, so vivid, so real, that Kyle could almost reach out and grab them. Unfortunately, those were the ones she could have done without.
Panic breaking out everywhere. Feet pounding frantically across a convulsing floor. People scattering in all directions. It was unparalleled hysteria, and it was everywhere, like a herd of animals running for their lives. Only these didn’t look like animals; these were human.
From whom or what were they all running?
If the pictures weren’t enough to unnerve her, the blaring racket surely would. Just as indiscriminate as the images, it would start loud and clear, then cut out intermittently, like a stereo with a faulty wire.
ON-OFF-ON-OFF.
Kyle thought she’d heard screams but couldn’t be sure. The noise kept rising to ear-splitting levels, then falling, making it hard to distinguish. Bits and pieces of sound—they were everywhere—exploding in her ears. Intense and rhythmic, the vibrations resonated throughout her body. She could feel them in her bones, her throat, and inside her head too, like the pounding of a drum, incessant and brutal.
With each passing moment, the experience grew even more intense. Soon, the vibrations gave way to a forceful rattle, becoming so powerful it almost knocked Kyle right off her feet.
Then it was all gone. Vanished. Swallowed by silence.
But the unexpected calm offered little comfort for Kyle. After all the noise, the confusion, she felt smothered by the stillness.
“ You okay, doc?” It was her patient, twenty-three-year-old Amanda Shively. She’d noticed Kyle’s face had turned a ghostly shade of white.
“ Yeah, fine. Just dizzy for a moment is all,” Kyle replied, blinking hard a few times, and forcing a less-than-convincing smile.
Then it started again.
Thundering, quaking sensations charged through her body with the speed and intensity of a fast-moving locomotive. The images returned as well, now flickering at an even more hurried rate than before and brighter too—it reminded Kyle of a film projector spinning out of control.
Flip, flip, flip —they just kept coming.
Kyle flinched. The visuals were more violent now.
A woman lay on the ground, curled into a ball, a halo of blood surrounding her head. Even more blood trailed past her, smeared across the floor—a child’s finger-painting—in shades of crimson.
And silence again.
“ Doc?”
Kyle looked at her patient, puzzled, as if seeing her for the very first time. To Amanda, the doctor appeared disoriented. Kyle’s voice was soft and breathy. “Can you excuse me for just a moment, Amanda?”
“ Sure thing. You gonna be okay?”
Kyle ignored the question, stumbling toward the door, then out into the hallway and toward her office.
Once inside, she dropped into a chair, letting her face fall into her hands. A few stray images still flickered in her head, but much slower now, almost as if nearing the end of the film reel. She sat completely still for a moment, face still buried in hands, trembling, allowing whatever was in control of her mind to run its course.
A few seconds later, it was all gone.
Cautiously, she looked up to make sure everything had really stopped this time. All she could hear was a distant and faint ringing. Kyle scanned the top of her desk, spotted a half-filled water bottle, grabbed at it. She began pouring it greedily down her throat as if she hadn’t had any in days, squeezing the sides so hard that it began to collapse inward. After finishing, she placed it down, spread her fingers apart, and stared at them; she could see her pulse pounding through the tips.
Her mind had ground to a halt, but her body was still reeling.
Kyle knew what was happening. She’d
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